#ada... probably regrets having a kid honestly

[lcveblind]

HEADCANON. I think it’s safe to say that Ava has some mixed feelings over her kid. 

While the kid himself didn’t do anything wrong, the whole situation that led up to his birth (her ex ditching her despite sickly-sweet promises of staying together forever) and the current stress of working several jobs to keep them afloat is... taxing, to say the least. I don’t doubt Ava had some selfish thoughts regarding abandoning the kid herself, either. Especially considering her own mother did the same with her and her father.

Speaking of her kid, I? Don’t think she lets him live with her. If anything, she probably hires someone else to take care of him—-both due to her job as an escort and as someone who just. Doesn’t know how to be a mother.

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: A significant death shakes up the Shelby household just as you find your way back inside. That events and those after make you start to wonder if now is the time to finally listen to Madam Despoina.

Warning: character death, language, yelling

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 13: Ghost

I like the sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies. Kiss me in the corridor, but quick to tell me goodbye. You say that you're no good for me, ‘cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve. And I swear I hate you when you leave. I like it anyway. — Ghost, Halsey

Coming back to the Shelby household wasn’t exactly what you expected. Best case scenario, you expected to be greeted warmly by Polly or Ada; worst case, you expected to have the door immediately slammed in your face by Tommy himself. 

Instead, when you knocked on the door, little Katie greeted you. 

John’s oldest daughter’s eyes widened and a smile spread across her face when she recognized you, “You’re back!”

She grabbed your hand and pulled you inside as you used your foot to close the door behind you to keep out the cold. When you got into the kitchen, Finn jumped from his chair and threw something into the fireplace. 

“Finn,” you scolded. “That a cigarette?” 

“Don’t tell Aunt Polly,” he begged, cowering down more in his chair. 

Jack ran into the room, a smile on his face as he got ready to watch the show of his youngest uncle getting into trouble. 

You hung your jacket on the hook and sat next to Finn, noticing him flinch slightly as you scooted closer. The instinct made you swallow knowing he probably expected you to hit him — one of the discipline actions of the times that still made you cringe despite your attempt to shield your facial expressions. 

“I won’t. But you really shouldn’t smoke, especially while you’re still growing. It stunts your growth, ya’know. You want to be this height your whole life?” You tousled his hair playfully to emphasize your point. 

Actually, you weren’t a hundred percent sure if that was true — you remember hearing it when you were younger (that and coffee) but you never actually ever did research on it yourself. 

“It’s also bad for your lungs,” you added, closing the unattended box of sticks that were sitting in the middle of the table. “It’s bad enough the air quality here is practically smoke itself, the second hand smoke will probably kill us all—“

“Is that what’s happenin’ to mummy?” Katie asked, her hand resting on your knee as she began petting the material of your skirt. 

Brow creased, you looked to Finn and Jack, then around the house and noticed no one was around. 

“Where is your mum?” 

“She’s sick again,” said Jack, or J.J. as you’d immediately called him when you learned that his real name was John, and that he’d been named after his father (Junior). Another moment of instant regret, seeing as you had no idea if initial names or initial nicknames were a common thing yet. But the seven year old latched onto it immediately and you’d apologized to Martha profusely. After the initial shock of her son insisting everyone call him this, who she’d named after John proudly, she finally admitted to finding the nickname quite cute. 

That’d been the first substantial interaction you’d had with Martha after just starting in the house. Even before the boys returned, you’d offered to help watch the kids whenever Polly or Ada were babysitting. You’d built a bit of a rapport with the little ones over the months, which had honestly surprised you seeing as you had zero experience with children, being an only child and not having been around family outside of your parents your whole life. It’d taken a little longer to get friendlier with Martha, but eventually you’d found a mutual ease around each other when you were both in the house. But unlike Ada, you didn’t find yourself spending any time outside the house, or alone even, together. And that was okay. 

But when she first started getting sick, you’d tried to put in a little more effort to at least let her know you were there for her, or Polly, or the kids, if they needed you. Last you’d heard, Martha had started feeling better around Christmas. 

“It’s not smoke, dummy,” J.J. said harshly to his younger sister when she asked again if it was was because of the cigarettes. 

“Hey,” you said instinctively, “no need for name calling.”

“Auntie Polly said she’s cold—“

“She’s got a cold—”

“Where is she now?” You interrupted before they escalated, bringing all three of their attentions back to you. 

“Auntie Polly took her to the ha’pital,” Katie answered. “Teddy and Annie are with Auntie Ada, said they needed naps.” 

And with that, you launched into babysitter mode for the three downstairs. You kept out of the way of the kitchen, especially when the shop opened. When Ada returned with the youngest two, you all took a trip to the shop for food, per Polly’s instructions. By the time you returned, Polly was back and starting dinner. 

That’s when she broke the news silently to you and Ada. 

Martha had passed away. 

Polly was angry with the hospitals, ranting about how she didn’t trust them and how she never should have taken her there in the first place. 

“I’ve sent word to John, but he’s still in Digbeth. I’m afraid I’m going to have to break the news to the children.”

You offered to stay the night to help with the kids and housework. That first night had been filled with tears. You even caught Polly’s eyes damp a handful of times during the quieter moments. 

Over the next few days, whenever you didn’t have a shift at the Garrison, you ended up at the Shelby house, even sleeping in one of the unoccupied bedrooms most nights. Polly was spending most of the following days preparing for the funeral, while you and Ada tried to make this new world make sense to the children. 

You and Ada both had your own experiences of losing your mothers to draw on in an attempt to console the little ones. But it was still difficult, especially for the youngest two, who were still not completely understanding that their mother wouldn’t be coming back. Finn’s patience and kindness to his little nieces and nephews had been the most endearing part for you. He’d been too young to remember his own mother, but was able to explain this new reality in child terms that surprised you.  

Since arriving in this time and place, it was hard not to judge the living conditions and lack of opportunities that surrounded you, especially when comparing them to your own upbringing. You’d always considered yourself middle to lower class, but you still had so much more privilege than whole chunks of the world. 

Here, even with some of those privileges, you were beginning to understand just how much faster it seemed these children of the time had to grow and mature than you ever had to. Hardships like losing parents at a young age were just the beginning — poverty, malnourishment, lack of education opportunities — these were things that you couldn’t imagine having grown up through. It make you think about Ada and Tommy, your previous image of them running around as children suddenly shifting to something more heart clenching. 

Your respect for Polly and her role as matriarch was already high, but over the next few days it only grew as she handled the household, children, business, and funeral arrangements nearly on her own. There hadn’t been a peep from John or any of the brothers until the night before the funeral. 

Not yet asleep, you could hear the banging of doors opening and chairs moving in the kitchen. Instinctively, you rose from the cot and grabbed the fireplace stick. On your way down, you stuck your head in the kids’ room, seeing them fast asleep before shutting the door and heading for the noisy intruders. 

“Come on, Tom,” you heard Arthur’s voice coming from the kitchen. “She’s got a sister—“ 

“S’not tonight.” Tommy replying made you pause, your heart jumping at hearing his voice for the first time in weeks. “We’ve got— got the funeral tomorrow, then back to ‘beth.” 

His voice sounded lighter than normal, if not slightly slurred. 

“Ah fuck it — we’ve been over there for weeks now. The whores here know exactly what I like, them in Dig—“ 

You cleared your throat, startling both men, though only one reached for his gun to point in your direction. Despite your curiosity to hear more about their escapades, Arthur’s voice had grown louder and you were fearful he’d wake John’s kids, who’d been nightmarish already to settle down. 

Tommy’s throat bobbled as he lowered his gun, setting it down on the table. You noticed the dishevelment of his hair and collar of his shirt under his jacket. That, along with the way Arthur was swaying and both with nearly empty bottles in their hands confirmed what you suspected — the boys were wasted. 

“The fuck’re you doin’ here?” Arthur asked, his voice not holding as much disdain as you expected, despite the words coming out. 

“I’ve been helping Polly and Ada with the kids,” you answered softly, crossing your arms. “They’re asleep upstairs, if you wouldn’t mind keeping your voice down.”

Arthur’s brow creased, his voice still at the same decimeter despite your request. “You ain’t got kids—”

“John’s kids,” Tommy reminded his brother. He gestured toward the door, “Go on now. Don’t you have someone to meet?” 

Arthur perked up, “Right! Suppose you won’t join me now, eh? You’ll know where I’ll be!” He gave a final shout before leaving the room and closing the door loudly behind him, causing you to cringe and listen for the stirrings of awakened little ones. 

After a moment of silence, you turned back toward the kitchen where Tommy was beginning to remove his jacket. 

A deep red stain on the shoulder of his shirt sleeve caused you to gasp, walking toward him without realizing what you were doing, setting the fireplace poker on the table.

“What happened?” You asked, touching his arm gently as you rotated it to see a slash in the fabric. 

Tommy shrugged, unsteady on his feet as he instead reached for the fuller bottle of rum on the counter. “Just a scrap ‘fore we went to the pub, ‘s nothin’—“

“I can help—“

“Just go back to the room—“

“Sit down,” you instructed more sternly. He glared at you, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Take off your shirt, that’s going to infect if we don’t clean it.”

“I can do it m’self,” he mumbled and turned to leave, but began to stumble as he became imbalanced.  

You caught and stabilized him before guiding him back to the chair. “You’re drunk as fuck, Tommy. Just sit down and let me help you.”

He huffed, but began to slide down in the chair until it creaked with the extra weight. Satisfied, you finally turned to get a fresh bowl of water and clean towels, then the bandages you’d seen Polly use a few times before. He was unbuttoning his shirt when you pulled up a second chair closer to him, ringing the cloth in the water. 

“What were you gonna do with that?” You caught his gesture to the fireplace poker on the table, his voice laced with condescension. “Should learn how to handle a real weapon.”

By the time you sat down, Tommy had his bad arm out of his shirt. 

“I know how to handle a gun,” you answered plainly, your voice serious as he watched you examine his wound. 

Well, you knew how to handle a gun in the 2000s, that is. With your father being a military man, he wanted to make sure you and your mother went through the proper gun safety and etiquette classes since there’d likely be some weapons in the house. You hadn’t been to a shooting range since your father was alive, but you imagined if you had to handle a gun today you’d at least not make a total idiot of yourself. Now, whether you could actually shoot a live person was another question. 

Concentrating back on Tommy’s arm, the blood had begun to crust around the cut, but began to bleed slightly as you started to put pressure on it. He hissed slightly at the contact. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled slightly as you continued to work. “Why’d you let this go so long? You know better—“

He scoffed, “Do I?” 

“I would have assumed so,” you answered honestly. Someone with the military backing he had, he must have known the dangers of infections and exposed wounds. Though as you worked you began to realize it wasn’t as bad as it’d originally appeared. 

He took another swig of the bottle before handing it to you. 

“No thanks,” you answered, not in the mood to drink tonight. 

“For the cut,” he said as he shook his head, a breath of amusement exhaling from his nose at your reaction. 

Sterilizing, you realized, giving yourself a duh as you took the bottle and carefully poured some on his skin. He hissed again as blood started to flow once more before you applied proper pressure. You sat there silently for a moment, just holding the rag to his arm, when you noticed him looking down at the cut sleeve, running his thumb across the red stain. 

“So much blood for such a small cut,” he said softly, mostly to himself. 

Your brow creased as you lifted the rag to look at his arm. The cut itself wasn’t that deep, but it was pretty substantial, at least in your opinion. Maybe comparatively it wasn’t as bad as some of the other injuries he’d had in his lifetime. The thought made your heart clench as your eyes began to notice other scars along his arm and uncovered chest. 

You kept going back to a particularly gnarly scar just above his chest as you lifted his arm to wrap the bandage. 

“Did you get this fighting?” you finally asked, turning your attention back to the cut, your curiosity getting the better of you. 

He grabbed the bottle and took another drink. “‘Cause that’s all we do, eh? Drink, fight, and fuck—“

“I didn’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice strong in defense. 

You wouldn’t mention how his brother was just talking about whores. Or how they were both currently drunk. Or how the last time you’d seen him in this kitchen he’d been bloody and bruised from an altercation. 

Probably wouldn’t be helpful at this point. 

Instead, you tried to appeal to the logical side of him. “Just with the Digbeth expansion, I’d imagine that can be pretty dangerous.”

You finished the tie of the bandage as you looked back up at him. He was already watching you, his eyes red and glassy, causing the already bright blues to appear more translucent against the candlelight. You noticed how much darker the skin under his eyes were, and couldn’t help but wonder when the last time he slept was. 

“You’ve got some on your hands,” he pointed, gently wrapping his hand around your own. He lifted it, revealing the deep red smear on the pad of your hand. He used his good hand to squeeze out the rag and began to clean your palm. 

“It’s just blood,” you shrugged, trying not to let on that your heart was racing at the intimacy. “Blood doesn’t scare me, Tommy.”

He looked between your eyes. For a moment you felt like he’d suddenly become sober as he lifted his good hand and gently ran his thumb against your cheek. “It should.”

You swallowed. “Tommy, I—“

“You don’t belong here.” 

At his words, you felt your back straighten in defense, not realizing how close you’d been moving in toward him. Your heart began to race even faster as you tried to decipher what exactly he meant. 

Part of you knew he must have been talking more in general terms. That you deserved something more than Birmingham in a gambling den with gangsters. 

But there was something in the rawness of his words. Something that made you feel like he knew what such a phrase could actually mean to you — that you didn’t belong here, in this time or this place. 

“I don’t,” you answered honestly, not helping the sincerity of the words falling from your lips. “But here I am. And here is where I want to be.”

Tommy’s expression remained unreadable as his eyes flicked between both of yours, looking for the lie. His adam’s apple bobbed, then he whispered, “With me?”

The sound of soft whimpering caused you both to jump, turning back toward the kitchen doorway. Katie stopped at the archway, dragging a blanket as she used the end of it to wipe her face. 

You rose from your seat to collect the little one — this wasn’t the first time she’d woken up crying since her mother’s passing. 

Katie nuzzled her face into your shoulder as you turned back toward the kitchen. Tommy was already standing, putting his arm back in his shirt and grabbing his coat and gun, still slightly uneasy in his footing as he headed for the door. 

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Tommy—” you called as the door shut behind him. 

—-

The next morning was hectic as everyone prepared for the funeral. You didn’t see the brothers again until that afternoon, John’s eyes red despite the stone expression he kept on his face as everyone offered their condolences. 

You felt Tommy’s eyes on you as you both navigated through the house, stealing a few glances at him yourself when he wasn’t looking. Neither of you spoke to the other though, and you were beginning to wonder if he even remembered your conversation the previous night. But each time you found yourself thinking in that direction, you shook your head to remind yourself of the bigger picture of the day.

Polly explained that they would start at Charlie’s Yard and walk the body through the town Martha had grown up in before reaching the graveyard. There, the priest would perform the ceremony. Apparently most of Martha’s family was already gone, so the guests would be mostly John’s family and her friends. After the burial, the Shelbys would return to Charlie’s Yard to burn the caravan filled with Martha’s mementos and pictures. Apparently this was more of a Shelby family tradition, something you were greatly interested in learning more about, at a different time of course. 

The preparations reminded you of your recent conversation with Polly over spirits. It got you thinking about the tea Madam Despoina had given you again. 

Excusing yourself to get ready for the events of the day, you left the Shelby house to change in your lodgings, doing your best to find something black. The only thing you didn’t have was a hat, but Ada had promised to bring you an extra. Your eyes kept shifting over to your dresser drawer. 

It’d been almost a month since you’d received the gift. You’d spent months desperate for an answer as to how or why you were here. And it seemed that just as you were given some sort of clue, some key to unlock something — you were rejecting it. You’d gotten caught up in the found family of the Shelbys and the unshakable pull you felt from Tommy. This new life you’d created for yourself had become a distraction and disassociation of the still very real mystery of your circumstance. 

Your eyes moved again to the dresser as you looked over yourself in the mirror. Could the answer be in that cup of tea? 

A knock at the door caused you to jump, your heart racing at being caught with your own thoughts. Half expecting Ada with the hat she’d promised, you were surprised when it was Tommy instead who stood on the other side of your door. 

He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood there uncomfortably. He cleared his throat, “Ada wasn’t sure if you’d know where Charlie’s Yard was, so I offered to come collect you.” 

“Oh,” you replied, wondering if it was true. “I just need to get my coat then—“

“Tommy? What are you doin’ here?” You heard another man’s voice down the hall as you turned back around to poke your head through the still open door of your apartment. 

Benji approached the doorway in a button-up and small bouquet of flowers in his hands. 

Tommy’s brow creased as he appraised the man, then looked between the flowers and you before his face hardened and back straightened. 

“What are you doing here, Benji?” 

He smirked, “We were going to get dinner, remember?” 

You hadn’t. The man hadn’t even been a speck on your mind the past week. 

“I’m sorry, Benji,” you began, your voice sincere, “um— Martha passed away this week. We’re on our way to the funeral, I can’t see you tonight.” 

“Oh,” he turned to Tommy. “Right I heard about that. I’m sorry for your loss, mate.” 

Tommy shook his head. “Save your condolences for my brother, Hancock. We’re going to be late, if you’ll excuse us.” 

Without waiting for you, Tommy began to walk down the hallway toward the exit. You rushed to grab your coat and lock your door behind you before apologizing again to Benji and hustling after Tommy. 

“Suppose that answers my question,” was the first thing out of Tommy’s mouth when you finally caught up with him, still looking straight ahead as you both walked down the lane. 

“What?”

“Last night—“

“You remember last night?” you asked surprised. He had been really drunk 

He scoffed, still not slowing in his walk nor giving you a glance. “I remember a lot of things. Including you telling me you weren’t interested in Hancock.”

“I wasn’t,” you answered, trying to catch your breath. 

He scoffed again and your eyes narrowed. 

“But then nearly a month went by after you ghosted me so I thought what the hell, give the guy a chance.” 

“Ghost?—“

“You told me to stay away—“

“And staying away means being courted by a Peaky Blinder, ya?”

“Courted?” Your brow creased at the use of phrase. “It was going to be one date — just a dinner, we weren’t getting married.”

He rounded on you, pulling you abruptly into an alcove off the sidewalk until your back was against the brick. His eyes bore down at you as the fire returned to his eyes. “Do you know what happens to people who cross me?” He started, his voice lower than it had been moments before. “They lose their ears, their tongues, their eyes. You have no fuckin’ idea who you’re talking to.” 

“I do,” you said, your voice just as strong despite the threatening tone of Tommy hovering above you. His eyes simmered for a moment. “You think you’re a monster. Maybe you are— maybe you have to be, maybe you don’t. I don’t care. I said I was going to help you. So shove off with the chauvinistic ‘I’m pushing you away to keep you safe’ bullshit — I don’t want it.”

You surprised yourself at your own words, though you tried to keep your face from showing it. Deep down, you’d always believed what you said, but you hadn’t known exactly to what extent. Did you not care if Tommy Shelby was a monster? No. And you couldn’t shake why.

“You’ll regret it,” he said, his eyes icy once again with the same hint of desperation you saw the night before. 

“Not as much as you’ll regret going from ‘I need you’ to ‘stay away from me’—“

He shook his head, finally taking a step back from you. “I was being selfish—“

“Well then be selfish!” You took a step back toward him. “Because dammit, Tommy, I need you too!”

He pulled your body into his so quickly you nearly pushed him away. But your body immediately reacted to the feel of his lips against yours as you pulled yourself in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

You broke away first, the whistling of pedestrians on the sidewalk making you remember you weren’t as concealed in this alcove as you thought. Though Tommy didn’t seem to care, his eyes still focused on you as you caught your breath. 

“Don’t think just kissing me absolves you from giving a proper explanation for your actions,” you tried to say as serious as you could muster between breaths. 

You were still mad at him. He’d put you through a roller coaster of unnecessary emotions the last few weeks. For him to get jealous at the prospects of you moving on? There was something more, you could feel it. And there was no way you were letting him get away with not explaining himself fully before you felt you could open back up to him again. 

The corner of his mouth rose in amusement, “Come to the races with me when I return.”

“What?” your brow creased, though the corner of your mouth tugged upward at the prospects of what sounded like a date (you really were delusional when it came to this man). 

“I want to take you to the races. Join me?”

You shook your head, “Is this the Tommy Shelby version of an olive branch?”

He smirked, “Maybe. We can talk more then.”

“Deal,” you answered, pulling his smirk into a genuine smile as you both turned back to continue down the sidewalk. 

—-

The funeral was beautiful. Honestly, you hadn’t any idea what to expect when Polly talked about the arrangements. But the words, the songs, and the beauty of the traditions had you in tears. John held his children during the entire procession, and gave a lovely send off before lighting the fire. 

Despite the grief you were feeling for the family, your brain hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the tea in your bedroom. Tommy had informed you that they’d be wrapping up Digbeth soon, returning properly in a few weeks.

That night was the first night you’d been back in your own apartment. The first thing you did was open your dresser drawer and remove the box. 

You left it on your counter top as you started the fireplace, then the kettle. As you reached for the tea cup, you wondered if it was smart to be alone while you did this. You were, after all, still about sixty percent sure that the old tea was just going to give you either a stomach ache or seizure. But, you guessed that was better than the ninety-nine percent that you’d been at upon first receiving. 

You gently removed the leaves and vial of water, following the instructions from Madam Despoina as you made your cup. 

Holding the warm tea in your hands, you made the last minute decision to sit on the floor — reasoning that if you collapsed or something, at least you wouldn’t have as far to go. 

You settled on the rug, inhaled deeply, closed your eyes, then brought the edge of the cup to your mouth. 

You could feel the hot water run through your throat, then down to your chest before the warmth began to spread through your arms and hands, down to your stomach, then legs, then toes. 

With your eyes still closed, you sat for a moment, waiting for something to happen. 

When nothing did, you took another sip. Again, nothing happened. 

Sighing, you sent a small thank you to whomever was listening that you at least didn’t go into any kind of shock, then opened your eyes. 

“Hello, darling.” 

>> next chapter &lt;;< chapter masterlist

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[imagineanime2022]

Dazai With A 15yr Old!Reader Like Him

Dazai Osamu X Fem!Reader

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello! I was wandering if you could write either headcannons or drabble which ever you see fits better of Dazai with a 15 gn reader who reminds him of himself when he was 15.

🩹 He remembered the first time that he saw you, he froze for a second before his teasing behaviour came back. What surprised him was you teasing back, you were quick witted fast and no one escaped your perception. 🩹 Kunikida tried sneaking up on you and you flipped him over your shoulder, which he laughed at before inviting you back to the ADA. 🩹 You were in a much better place than he was when he was 15 having been taken in by the ADA instead of the port mafia. 🩹 You didn’t actively look for ways to die but you were still in harm's way more than anyone would like given your age, you were one of the youngest members. 🩹 The first time he met you he called you cute, he’s never regretted a decision more. 🩹 If there was a fight he could be sure that he’d find you in the centre protecting people, you valued other people’s lives over yours, so Dazai would often look out for you considering he cares very little for his life as well. 🩹 When you both ended up on a mission together, it was carnage, the mission would be completed but the property damage and loss of life that followed you both was a topic of discussion the moment you left the office. 🩹 Dazai trusts your judgement, he knows that you're smart and if you do something he knows that there’s a reason, he is unlikely to question you unless he thinks that it’ll put you in a better position. 🩹 He loves that you give Chuya PTSD flashbacks to when they were partners, the first time that he saw you he honestly reverted back to the days when he used to deal with Dazai and hated that you often answered the same way that he used to. 🩹 Dazai doesn’t like when you're sent out without him because he knows that you are likely to sacrifice yourself for someone else. 🩹 Dazai will try and steer you in a different direction than the one that he had taken, you were his chance to do as Oda had asked of him. 🩹 In the times that he can see you falling to the darker side of your mind he’ll step in, take the kill from you or brighten your day with some kind of joke just to make you feel better. “Let’s get out of here kid.” “I’m not done yet.” “Yes you are.” 🩹 He’d often ruffle your hair all the time. 🩹 Slips trackers into your pockets all the time and then spends the rest of his day watching what you are doing and stepping in where he needs to. 🩹 He’s always honest with you, he knows that you're smart enough to see through any lie that he told you and he knew that it wouldn’t be easy to earn that trust back after. 🩹 Never sugar coats anything. People listening to your conversations often flinch when either of you talk. 🩹 He’s probably the only one that can figure out how you're feeling and act accordingly. 🩹 The only time that people see him serious is if you're ever kidnapped, especially if it’s the mafia, he knows how combative he can be when he’s kidnapped and the only reason he’s still alive is because they know him. They don’t know you, they’ll kill you so he’ll always cut the time limit Ranpo gives in half and work by that. 🩹 “You hurt?” “No.” 🩹 You're literally bleeding out while telling him that you aren’t hurt, he’s always the one that convinces you to go see the doc. 🩹 He’s not above flinging you over his shoulder and carrying you there himself. 🩹 He’s the only person brave enough to train with you “Fight like you want to kill me, you’ll be trying to kill them.” 🩹 Dazai cares for you more than he cared for anyone else since the mafia and he honestly he’d only consider you a success if you had all of his skill with will to live.

Request Here!!

[aroacesigma]

do you have any sigzai hcs (or just hcs about sigma or dazai separately)

you're going to regret asking this . headcanons under the cut cause im gonna feel annoying otherwise . most of them are what i headcanon as happening like post canon in a nice world where everyone is alive and happy lol

sigzais <3

ok so to me they are THE transmasc qpps ever . i might be projecting a little but both dazai and sigma are both so transmasc to me. on one hand you have sigma who wears 10 billion shirt layers and a long ass coat and goes on and on about being an ordinary man, and then on the other hand you have dazai who also wears clothes like that and bandages over his chest

hc sigma as oriented aroace with ???? orientation . hes just very confused . theyre so confused . and dazai as bi aroacespec and not particularly averse to any stuff just doesnt feel the attraction most of the time

poor sigma has spent all this time around fyolai like 'god why the fuck are people like this' and then he meets dazai and is like ohhhhhhh. oh .

when sigma joins the ada (and they will u mark my words) him and dazai end up sharing an apartment

at first dazais excited because maybe he wont be living off horrible cooking

unfortunately sigma also cannot cook for shit . he fucking sucks . legitimately the only thing he can cook is cookies in a packet mix .

sigma is unfortunately going through the same phase that kids of controlling parents go through when they finally get freedom, which is making a bunch of stupid decisions . dazai , being the wonderful boyfriend he is, is encouraging all the dumb decisions because he thinks its funny

most of their dates is just going to cafes because sigma has the worlds most horrendous sweet tooth and sigma has no moral objections to guilt tripping him into it

despite being pretty bad at it themself, sigma has a tendency to hit dazai with a pillow until he takes care of himself

vice versa dazai will be a distracting little bitch and wont stop if he thinks sigma is overworking himself

sigma

he/they sigma is so real to me btw just need everyone to know this . they like messing around with neos as well sometimes i think

even though he's pretty much always tired , isnt really a huge fan of coffee , definitely prefers really fancy tea and energy drinks

decided to run with the whole purple thing cause of his hair , abolutely loves the colour. anything he owns is purple if they can get it .

smiles all happy while listening to music in a way that makes you think its something nice . its not . his only musical requirements are loud and screaming to drown out the Anxiety™

not my headcanon but i saw someone say once that they headcanon that occasionally people get an uncanny valley kinda vibe from looking at him cause of his weird origins and honestly i think thats pretty interesting

very happy to join the ada . not quite as impressed by the paycheck .

like , really not impressed by the paycheck . theyre struggling with the dwindling clothes budget . i can totally see him trying to decide whether he wants dinner or new earrings . and probably picking the earrings .

they get along with everyone at the agency really well . a few people dont really trust him straight up but atsushi and dazai vouching for him shuts that down relatively quickly

he gets along the best with atsushi

they have a friendly rivalry with kunikida . agency productivity going straight up just because those two keep trying to outdo each other

dazai

100% has multiple troll accounts online . he enjoys being a menace . not in the mean way , in the absolutely fucking infuriating kind of way

remained in denial (or more oblivious really) about being trans until he was 16 because he asked chuuya if everyone felt like that one time and chuuya was like well yeah (also trans and stupid)

on a related note (this one is kind of about dazai and chuuya but it still counts) mori was kind of like ohhh teenage boys are so much easier to deal with right ? kouyou decided it was best not to inform him that hrt gives you mood swings .

adhd. adhd. adhd.

hes a candy crush mum . its a problem .

eats everyone at the ada's food . but he doesnt eat the whole thing he'll just take a bite . its high up on kunikidas 'things that make me want to string dazai up by his legs and attach him to a ceiling fan' list

has been known to send 12 yr olds graphic violent death threats after losing to them in video games

he has the music taste of a 14 yr old cishet girl . i will let you decide what that entails .

my deepest apologies for making you read all this but i love them both dearly and i have lots of Thoughts

[countessofravenclaw]

Random lore dump!!!

Okay, I am not sure how many time I have mentioned that my standing headcanon is that Delfi and Pedro are the first of the Roller Crew couples to have kids. Their daughter, Victoria is born in the year 2027.

So, I believe that Nico came back about a year after S3 because New York and him and Ada didn't work out and Roller Band is formed back up once more and with the help of Matteo they get their own label and full-on career and have a successful five years.

They probably became popular in Latin America mostly while Matteo ended up being a much bigger name in Europe than in the American continents. Also none of them get like this superstar success. They probably have the same amount of success as Meghan Trainor or Rachel Platten.

I think the Roller Band (if they are still called that, because who can succeed with that name) retire from the active tour life once Victoria is born because obviously, Pedro wants to be there for his daughter and wife and Simon probably starts looking to settle down as well with Ambar and start a family as well down the line (Simbar are the last to have children because Ambar needs therapy first). Nico is the bachelor of the group for a long time. They still create music and do local gigs in BA, but no more big international tours.

Delfi and Pedro go on to have four kids in total, Lucas born three years later, William after another three years, and Olivia two years after that. I just get the vibe from them that they have this amount of kids. Honestly, I kind of regret that I made they get engaged last in my timeline (Even when they do beat Lutteo to the wedding), but we can just say that it took Pedro that long because he kept freaking out and changing the plan how he was going to do it, otherwise he would have proposed before Gastón... who did prolong asking Nina about two years because he wanted to let her finish her degree first.

Simon and Ambar's first daughter Ivory is born in 2032 and her sister Esme comes about two years later.

Roller Band probably formally retires when the guys are in their late 40s or early 50s and kids start to be teenagers. Simon still occasionally releases solo music plus gets really involved with the management of young artists and advocates their rights so no one will go through the same as he did with Bruno and Vidia. Pedro starts getting more into score composing, working with Delfi as she produces and directs features to big and small screens. I have no idea what Nico would do...

Then all grow old with their loved ones and friends.

[puredramione]

My 2020 Reading List - Dramione

This year, I’ve read way more dramione than I’ve ever read, and I’ve been reading it for 7 years now. I even read things, tropes, I had never bothered with before. 2020 may not have been a kind year, but in the dramione community it has been a wonderful year of reading for me. Please be aware I may spoil some plot lines to dramione fanfictions you haven’t read yet. I have tried not to as best as I can. But anyway below is 20 fics I’ve read this year that have been there for me when I needed them. No particular order. Just a lot of love for these fics.

Wait and Hope - by @mightbewriting - memory loss is one of my favourite tropes but this story. I have never cried over a couch before. But this story. From the moment she first awakes in St Mungo’s to that beautiful ending, I was hooked. I loved how the story left me with not really a care about whether or not Hermione got her memories back. Those bloody text messages 💔 a journey I’ll never forget.

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega - MrsRen - my first time reading anything omegaverse. It still isn’t my favourite trope. I much prefer Veela for some reason 🤷🏻‍♀️ but overall it was a good story, just not my thing.

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach - I actually gave up on this story the first time I read it. Unsure as to why because the story as a whole is just amazing. Baking and dramione? Yes please! Also dealing with their psychological trauma after the war? Heck yes! The relationship in this story develops at a lovely pace. There were moments I was on edge, others I was smiling ear to ear whilst reading this. Definitely one of my favourites now.

In Search Of Sunrise - @indreamsink - actually just reread this and I still get that warm feeling in my chest. So turns out my break up hasn’t made me lose the ability to enjoy dramione falling for each other. Anyway, the story was so heartwarming, like if I were to describe it as anything I would describe it as a hug. The best non-date fic there is.

Sex and Occlumency - Graendoll - this was the start of my slippery slope into reading smut stories. Like I had read smut before, obviously but I didn’t pay it much attention, normally just swiped past 😂 but this one was a completely different story.

Manacled - @senlinyu - this is truly the most beautifully haunting story I’ve ever read. I remember when I first started reading it, I thought to myself, how the hell could I ever ship dramione in this world? Then those flashbacks. Fuck those flashback chapters were a punch in the gut. The way everything links and connects. I love it’s realistic ending. I often think of this story in the shower cause I had to force myself to go shower whilst I read this cause I honestly couldn’t put it down. And SPOILER, but I laughed so hard at a certain characters death even though I probably shouldn’t have but she was such a bitch. I get flashbacks myself of this story. I’ll be in the shower and I’ll remember a certain sentence, a certain scene in my head as if I truly walked with Hermione on this heart wrenching journey. But fuck manacled Harry, I hate that boy.

He Becomes by @abromaposts - I needed this story. This was the first thing I read after Manacled. Draco Malfoy looking after rabbits with the sole reason being to get close to Hermione, yes please. Rabbits are my favourite animals. It’s just so much fluff. And after Manacled I was grateful.

The Right Thing To Do - @lovesbitca8 - this was the bookshop, slow burn, fluffiness I needed in the summer. The start of a truly wonderful universe. Idiots in love, I’ve never went through so much second hand embarrassment. Every interaction between Hermione and Lucius was fantastic. Especially the final one! Every character was written to a way that I loved them so much. Plus this story makes you think (like the rest of the series) it doesn’t spoon fed you information.

All The Wrong Things - @lovesbitca8 - I never thought I’d be into first person POV. The last thing I read like that was The Hunger Games back in school, many years ago. But I truly felt as if Draco were telling me the story. I love how it filled in things we never seen in the first story. I love Draco’s characterisation. Unlike TRTTD, this feels more lighthearted. Could just be the horny Draco though and his dramatics?

The Auction - @lovesbitca8 - this story. where do I start? When I started reading this story I was in a completely different life. This story has seen me through a terrible time in my life. Honestly the last few chapters before the final chapter were a blur and I had to go and reread them cause my head was all over the place but the story. This story, on it’s own, I would say is better than any fiction I’ve ever read 🤷🏻‍♀️ it grips you, pulls you in. Every question you ask, you get answered with a ribbon and bow. I cannot express my love, for this story and for the hard work that has went into it. The characters in this world so vastly different yet similar to the ones we already learned to love. I could write a love letter to this story.

Hindsight by @floorcoaster - if you haven’t been following this year long, monthly updated story, then you’ve really missed out. Each chapter is a month of the year. The story starts with Hermione planning to trim down her calendar for the year ahead. Although it’s fiction it gave me a sense of hope for my future. I had started this year on a different note than Hermione, and I’m now ending it on a different note as well. I think this story does a good job of capturing the passage of time and just how quickly things can change. I also really love these adorable idiots in this story.

Bring Him To His Knees by @willhavetheirtrinkets (WIP) - the best co-worker, friends to lovers, fake relationship story I’ve read. No question. I sent @magicaltraveler3 a tearful voice memo after that last chapter that was posted (chapter 20). It isn’t the first time I’ve cried at a fanfic, but it is the first time that I predicted something bad would happen, but I didn’t expect the bad thing to be what it was. I can’t wait to see where this story goes. At this point I have completely forgot about the murder plot. I know it exists, and we’ll get back to the murder but I’d honestly read the characters in this story eating breakfast.

The Flat In Bath by @adaprix (WIP) - this was the first story I got into that ada has wrote. Instantly I was fascinated with the use of “flat” over “apartment”. Being Scottish I knew this was someone British. Anyway, a very interesting story and I can’t wait to see how the rest of it plays out.

Good by @lovesbitca8 - I am dying for the update of this story. As so many are, it is 🔥🔥🔥 all I can say. I can’t wait for the update!

The Erised Effect by @adaprix - When ada first told me she was thinking about writing a story about Pansy and Hermione working in a sex shop together. Telling me about having the idea of them meeting in the pub and how she “needed to get some filthy smut out of your system”. I didn’t think it would be my thing. Boy, did she prove me wrong!

The Cell by WrathOfMacy - I don’t know how I came to read this one. But damn, this was a good one (who am I kidding they’re all good ones). I’m still reading through it though. It’s a warfic in which Dramione end up locked in a cell together. The relationship builds nicely. I cannot wait to read more of it.

The Melody Of Touch by @magicaltraveler3 - I never knew I needed a dramione story like this story. I love that there is so much musical imagery incorporated into it. I haven’t read anything like it before. The story, the smut, the taxi and the freaking art work. It is everything!

Every Day, a Little Death by @lovesbitca8 - I’ll be honest with this one. I read the first chapter and the last chapter 🙈 BUT only cause everyone scared me so much. I plan to revisit. SPOILER. I may not care too much that Hermione cheated. Just me? Like yeah I hate cheating and she shouldn’t have done it, but like she admitted to it, and was very regretful for it. Anyway, the chapters I read were very interesting I look forward to revisiting it sometime.

Away by @indreamsink - written for the romcom fest and I got to say I think this one may be my favourite from the fest. Not only do you get dramione but you get the amazing side pairing of Harry/Pansy, which this year has really became my favourite side pairing. It’s like reading two love stories at once, I was interested in the dramione plot line obviously, but I was equally interested in the hansy/potts&pans plot line.

The Path Unexpected by @magicaltraveler3 - this story is a cute little domestic dramione fanfic. And I lived for it. It shows dramione going through the process of having a child and honestly, they’re so damn cute in this fic. The fanart is next level also!

[thefanficmonster]

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

[adarlingsnightmare]

Osamu Dazai Yandere Alphabet

this was requested by a lot of people and i wrote it awhile ago but am only posting it now bc i spent way too much time fussing over whether it was any good lol.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

One word: smothering. Dazai's idea of affection involves robbing you of your privacy and getting in your personal space as much as possible. He doesn't even care if you're not comfortable with it, so for anyone who doesn't like being touched, he's an absolute nightmare to be with. He especially likes to wrap his arms around your shoulders from behind and stand like that for as long as possible.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As messy as necessary! He's more likely to get messy with you than with rivals, though. He is a sadist, but now that he has his precious darling this is all directed towards you, meaning his rivals get fairly swift deaths if Dazai does decide they need to die.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

As previously mentioned, Dazai is a sadist, and therefore loves to cause his darling pain whether that be physical or emotional. Despite this, he can act sweet and loving too, especially if you're not resistant. He does occasionally mock you, but it's not his main tactic of hurting you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

Yes, definitely. His darling's wants and needs are completely meaningless to him. To his darling, he may even seem oblivious, but the truth is he just doesn't care. You said you don't want him to spike your drink? Oh, well that's just too bad.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Surprisingly, Dazai will actually be himself around his darling, rather than putting on a persona. He believes that since he loves you, you should know his true self. You're the only person in the world who will ever get to see the real Dazai, though that isn't necessarily a good thing. Don't get excited though, this doesn't mean he is vulnerable, in fact he is probably worse now he doesn't have to restrain himself.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Mostly amused. A part of Dazai enjoys someone who fights back and won't give in easily, in fact you could even argue he is somewhat masochistic since he gets rather excited by your anger towards him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Certainly. Dazai is fascinated by human behaviour and watching you react to various torture and situations is his form of entertainment. He may eventually get irritated if you are constantly trying to escape, but he somewhat admires your resilience.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Honestly, the whole experience is a nightmare because there is no chance of a good ending. Dazai can't be reasoned with, there are no compromises and it is guaranteed to end in tragedy. No matter how strong or smart you are, you can't escape. The best ending is for Dazai to kill you, because at least then your suffering will be over.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Dazai never expected to live this long, so he's never bothered thinking about the future before, even when it comes to his darling. However, if it came down to it, he'd probably want something similar to the 'typical' married life: a house, loving partner and maybe some kids. He wants to feel more human and he figures acting like everyone else is a good start. Although, despite these fantasies, Dazai will never actually be able to live this life due to who he is.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Oh, Dazai is the definition of jealous. He can't even handle the prospect of you thinking about someone else, let alone anything like actually talking to them. He has to be the centre of your world or he will literally go insane. He's not a hothead like Chuuya, so aside from a very tight grip on you and a dark glare, his jealousy won't be noticeable immediately. However, that's not to say he won't do anything about the situation — scheming on how he can ruin this persons life and if they really don't get the message, he supposes he'll just have to show them what happens to vermin who steal his darling's attention.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He still retains some of his cheery and mischievous persona, but make no mistake, once he's got you trapped, he'll reveal a much darker side. He likes to act oblivious to your suffering just to wind you up— oh, you're crying about how you want to be let out? so... anyways, what should we have for dinner? — and takes pleasure in both your despair and your anger towards him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Depending on which version of Dazai we're talking about here (Mafia or ADA), his way of courting will be different. If you meet while he's in the Port Mafia, he will be more creepy than romantic. Relying more on intimidation than charm, he'll spend his time sadistically toying with you and jumping out of nowhere to wrap his arms around you in a suffocating hold. ADA!Dazai is pretty much the complete opposite— overwhelming you with endless gifts (mainly pricey chocolate and flowers), reciting cheesy love poetry, flirting constantly and of course always asking you whether you'd commit a double suicide with him.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Definitely. While Dazai appears as a cheerful, suicidal maniac with a penchant for troublemaking, he is actually quite different. Around you he does retain some of his facade, but the cracks will show and it'll be undoubtedly unsettling. He deceives you with his sweeter, more carefree side, before he reveals the merciless, cynical person he truly is.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishing his darling is Dazai's favourite thing... much to the disdain of his darling. He'll punish you for just about anything and half the time he won't even explain what you've done wrong, simply wanting an excuse to have his fun. His punishment can take many forms, usually sexual, and always teaches you a lesson. The punishments you receive depend on whether we're talking about mafia!Dazai or ADA!Dazai, the former typically based around humiliation and the latter around degradation and pain. (I have quite a few ideas but I didn't want to write too much on this here).

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Rights? Freedom? What are those? You don't know because you haven't experienced the feeling of independence and being able to make your own decisions since Dazai took an interest in you. He's an unbearably jealous person so he can't allow you to even look at other people, let alone talk to them. Despite how much you prove your loyalty to Dazai, he will still refuse to loosen his suffocating hold over you and your freedom.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

If Dazai thinks it's worth it, he can wait for just about anything, so he is usually relatively patient with his darling. I say 'usually', because while he doesn't mind waiting, he prefers his darling to respond to his questions and advances instantly and you risk getting punished if you don't. Unfortunately for you, you'll never know how patient he's feeling so it's always best to just be alert and reply immediately when he asks you something.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Definitely not. Dazai's life felt pointless until he met his beloved darling, so you leaving/dying would absolutely destroy him and increase his suicidal tendencies tenfold. Without his raison d'être what point is there in continuing to live?

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Guilt? Why on earth would Dazai feel guilty? He needs his darling to be around him pretty much 24/7 and kidnapping is the safest option for everyone, why should he feel guilty? I mean, who knows what kind of havoc Dazai would wreak if he couldn't have you by his side...

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Dazai's own ability describes exactly just how disconnected from other people he feels, so it's no surprise that he doesn't really understand love. It's the curiosity of what it's like to be human — to be like everyone else — that will compel him to pursue his darling to the point it develops into an obsession. You'll also have to be different enough to keep his attention, perhaps being eccentric in your own way or being extremely hard to read. He can't feel genuine love, at least not like others do, but he can feel intense obsession and that may be even more dangerous.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Unsurprisingly, Dazai enjoys his darling's tears and despair, being the sadist he is. However, he only likes it when he's the cause of your pain or distress, if you were crying because of someone else it would infuriate him to no end.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He appears like the typical delusional and deranged yandere, but he's actually very calculating and certainly lucid. He's fully aware of everything he's doing and how wrong it is, but does he care? Not in the slightest.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Honestly, it's hard to think of ways you could escape Dazai as he is extremely smart and unlike some other yanderes, no matter how compliant you are he will never let down his guard in the slightest. The only possibility is to kill him: whether that's by poisoning his food, smothering him in his sleep or biting down so hard on his neck he bleeds out. Either way, resorting to murder is the most plausible way of escaping.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Of course! What's the point of being with your beloved if you can't inflict a little pain onto them? Pain will be a daily occurrence for you as nothing is more melodic to Dazai than your cries of pain.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

While Dazai doesn't worship you per say, he does see you as ethereal— an angel that he feels compelled to ruin. Since doesn't see himself as human, you are very different to him in his mind. He wants someone else to feel as inhuman as he does, which is why he takes great pleasure in destroying your humanity. He isn't worried about winning you over either; he may appear like he is trying to do so, but he knows that if you don't return his advances he can just make you love him.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

As mentioned previously, Dazai can be very patient when he wants to be and has no problem playing the long game if he feels it is necessary. He won't kidnap you immediately: preferring to slowly worm his way into your life so that by the time you realise his true, much darker intentions, it's already too late to escape.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Well, he wants to mould his darling into the perfect submissive little kitten, so yes it is likely he would break them down until all he had to do was rebuild them in the image he wanted. Even if you genuinely love him back and want to be with him, Dazai will still tear down your mental stability to the point of complete reliance on him. He's never experienced any real love from another person before or been in an actual relationship, so it's safe to say his views on love are a little skewed. However, after he had completely broken you, Dazai would feel the closest he can to regret. He doesn't actually want you to be a lifeless doll, but unfortunately he only realises this after you're already too far gone.

[crashdevlin]

Satisfied- Ch. 15

Author’s Note: Happily Ever Eventually Masterlist, Satisfied Masterlist 

Summary: Dr. McCaullife tells Y/n to get closure, which leads to confrontations across the board.

Pairing: none 

Word Count: 3106

Chapter Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of mental breakdown, mentions of self-harm, mentions of noncon touching, bit of PTSD (it's a syndrome not a disorder😂🤣...in joke from another series), 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

My house is fairly small. I don’t need a lot of room. I spent more on the security system than anything, really. It’s a good one...a bajillion cameras running to a computer in my office closet, a doorbell cam going to my phone, a sensor on every door and window. I would love to say that I didn’t have Tom in mind when I bought it, but I was thinking of him more than I was thinking of paps and creepy fans. 

He had to stay in Texas due to the probation agreement, so he bought a house, too. A converted barn on the outskirts of Henly...an hour away from my home. Too close. Too close for any sort of comfort...but the ADA assured me that he was going to adhere to the protection order. So, I spent a lot of money on a security system.

When my doorbell went off and I looked at my phone to see Danneel standing on my porch, my stomach twisted. I just got rid of Jay, sent him home from New Orleans to be with his wife and then she shows up on my porch? How’d she even know where I live? *Guess this is my opportunity to get done with her, too.*

I opened the door and bit my lip as I looked at her. She had her hair down and scrunched up in sexy waves. She really is incredibly beautiful. I will never think anything else. “Hey, sweetie,” she greeted, smiling softly. “Can I come in?” I nodded and stepped back, closing the door as she set her purse on my loveseat and turned to me. “This is a cute place. You chose well.”

“Figure I don’t need a lot of space. Just enough for me and the kids on the occasion I get to see them.” I took a deep breath and crossed my arms over my chest. “What can I do for you, Danneel?”

“Jay told me about your fight at the con and-”

“That wasn’t a fight,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “That wasn’t even a disagreement.”

“Sweetie,” she started, but I sighed and caught her eyes.

“No. Please, listen.” I took another breath and looked away from her. “I’m not mad. I haven’t wanted to fight. That’s why I didn’t reach out to you after I saw the video. That’s why I shut down...and shutting down wasn’t the best way to deal with it, but still, I never wanted to fight.”

“But isn’t Jay worth fighting for, Y/n?”

That sentence sent rage zipping through my chest, but I took another breath. Calm myself, move forward. “No one is worth that much fighting. Especially if they’re not willing to fight for me. He wanted you back, Dee. I was always the consolation prize.”

“He loves you.”

“I wish that were enough...but it wasn’t enough to keep him from cheating on me.” Her face fell and I could see she wanted to argue the word ‘cheating’ so I kept talking. “You both knew I didn’t want you touching each other while I was gone...and tell me that you honestly didn’t see that I had a lot of regrets after we fucked. Tell me you didn’t know that it was probably never going to happen again...and that’s why you took the opportunity while I was gone.”

She looked down, avoiding my gaze. “Jensen and I-”

“Danneel, it’s okay.” I smiled and swallowed down my residual sadness. “Seriously. You don’t have to feel guilty here, hon. You and Jensen never stopped loving each other. That’s a fact. I just got in the way of what never should have ended in the first place. I’m moving on. I’ll find someone eventually, but for now...you and Jensen should be together. You always should have been.”

“Y/n, you deserve-”

“I deserve to move on,” I snapped, before licking my lips and stepping closer. “You and Jensen need to be together...and I need to be alone for a while. So...don’t feel bad. Don’t apologize. Don’t try to get me to fight...because I’m done fighting.”

She started crying as I hugged her, but I just felt relief. It was done. Finally, there was closure. She’d leave my house and go back to Jensen and everything would be done. A short time later she did just that...and I sat on my couch and wiped my eyes and...did some affirmations and moved forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Closure on two fronts. That’s good,” Dr. McCauliffe said at my appointment the Monday after.

“Yeah. Now I just need closure with Nate and Tom and maybe I’ll be well-adjusted some day,” I said sarcastically.

“You should,” she encouraged, leaning forward.

“Wait...what?”

“You should have a sit-down with Tom and with Nate. You have grievances. You should air them.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “A sit-down with Tom is almost impossible. There are protections in place to keep that from happening and besides, you...you don’t want me interacting with Tom.”

“Not through text messages from unknown numbers when you’re feeling numb and broken. That was unhealthy. With you like this? Making breakthroughs and getting closure? That can only help.” She tapped her pen against her clipboard and smiled. “I’m sure there’s a way for you to meet with Tom, with protections, and clear the air a bit.”

“Clear the air. What would I even say to him? What would I even...How could I even talk to him without letting my brain go back to…” I rolled my shoulders back and ran my hand across my mouth.

“You talked to Jensen without an issue. You stood your ground twice, under stressful circumstances, and you came out the other side. I feel like you could handle this with grace. And I will be right here to help with any fallout that might occur. Okay?"

It took a lot of cajoling from Dr. McCauliffe, and some from Misha and Kim, but eventually I decided that it might not be the worst idea for my mental health if I got some closure with Nate. If that worked, I might go for closure with Tom...with a bodyguard and some lawyers and a knife in my pocket, just in case. 

I flew to Florida and took an Uber to Nate’s house. I had the driver wait, offered a $100 tip, and went up to the door. Jenny answered. I fought down a wave of anger at the sight of her. She used to be a friend. She was Nate’s friend first, a girl he told me was ‘one of the guys’ and not to worry about. I made friends to prove I wasn’t worried. I should have always been worried about Nate.

“It’s not your weekend,” she snapped.

“I’m not here for Nova. I’m here to talk to Nate.”

She scoffed and turned around to look at her husband, who was walking up from the living room. “It’s okay, Jen. I got this,” Nate said, stepping outside and shutting the door. “Sorry, she’s been kinda worried that you might decide you wanna come steal me back ever since she found out you and Jensen broke up.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a homewrecker. That’s her job.”

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Don’t talk about my wife like-”

"Your wife cheated on her husband with my husband, ruined two families, and displaced three children all while smiling across the table at me during game nights and pretending she had never sucked your cock. She is as much a liar and a slut as you."

Nate's eyes went huge as I spoke. I really wasn't expecting to explode like that, but years of bubbling anger, I guess. 

"What the hell, Y/n? You flew in from Texas to call me and Jenny names?"

"No, I flew in from Texas for closure. My shrink thinks it's a good idea to get the shit I've been holding back off my chest so I came to talk to you. Honestly? Probably never woulda said a word against Jenny if she hadn't answered the door, but she did." I shrugged. "Too late now."

"What could you possibly have left to get off your chest?"

"Do you even realize how poorly you treated me? No, I'm sure you can't be that delusional. Do you even care?" I took a deep breath and looked up into his eyes. Blue just like Tom. *Gotta get a brown-eyed boy next time. Haven't been fucked over by a brown-eyed guy yet. No. No guys. No dating. Just me.* "I loved you with everything in me, Nate. You were everything to me, and you used that, used me to make yourself feel better, to make your friends laugh at the stupid fat girl who didn't realize you were fucking around. I know Jenny wasn't the first. And I bet she wasn't the last, either. Bet you got a few skeletons hiding from her too. Because you don't change. You're the same exact piece of shit you were when we were in high school...and Jenny knows that or she wouldn't be so scared that you would run away with your ex-wife. Not that I'd ever take you."

He scoffed in anger and I laughed. "I've had literal models in my bed, Nate. How delusionally narcissistic do you have to be to think that I would take a pencil-dicked, scruffy-faced, beatnik-looking motherfucker like you back?" Well, that was almost Tara-levels of confidence. When did that happen? "Look, I know you never loved me. I'm not delusional anymore, but I keep hoping that you'll love Nova...she's part of you, that should play right into your narcissism, but the way you use her like a tool, like a weapon against me...I don't think you love her any more than you loved me. And if you damage her, I will bury you."

He scoffed again. "You couldn't even win custody cause you're so unstable. What do you think you could do?"

"I didn't say I'd bury you in court." My voice was calm, with an edge of threatening. "You damage my daughter and I will do whatever I feel appropriate to pay you back." I was walking away when a final burn hit my mind. “It must be heartbreaking to you that the only thing you have the least in common with Jensen is that neither of you could keep it in your fucking pants.”

Dr. McCauliffe was right. Getting everything off my chest was freeing. I hadn’t even gotten on the plane back to Texas before I was on the phone with my lawyer. “What do you mean, you want a meeting with him? The man tried to rape you! There’s a restraining order on him and a-”

“I have to talk to him. That’s all. Lawyers present, a bodyguard or a cop in the room. I have things I need to say...Things I need to tell him so that I can get on with my life. Please, make it happen.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it’s my bad idea, so...make it happen.”

And he did. He got me in a meeting with Tom at my lawyer’s office, a security guard and both lawyers present. 

I wore jeans, a baggy long-sleeved blouse, and I had my hair back and out of my face. I wasn’t there to look pretty. I was there for that closure.

My heart started pounding when I walked into that room and saw him. Obviously I wasn’t even close to over what he did...which is why I needed to talk to him about it. I sat across from him at a table in a conference room and my mind couldn’t help but replay being pressed into a long wooden table in the courthouse conference room, with a silk tie shoved in my mouth and my ass stinging. I took a deep breath and sighed it out as I sat down.

“I’d like to point out that I told my client that this was a bad idea,” Tom’s lawyer said.

“I told my client the same. She insisted,” my lawyer responded.

Tom smiled and my breath hitched. I was suddenly struck with the thought that I wasn’t ready for this. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe I should just walk out...but I’d already come so far. I averted my eyes from his, looked at the table instead. “My psychiatrist thought this would be a good thing for me. That I deserved closure.”

“Closure? You mean to say you’re completely done with me and want nothing to do with me in the future?” Tom’s voice made me shiver. “I have heard that one before...and you always text back eventually...Dear.”

“Closure means asking you ‘why’ and telling you all the ways you’ve hurt me, getting everything off of my chest so that I don’t have any regrets of things I should have said...and don’t call me that.”

“Why? Why what?” Tom asked and I looked up. Did he really not know?

“Why...our relationship, Tom. Our whole relationship and the way you treated me afterward. Why? Why did you treat me like that? Why did you try to own me? Why did you manipulate and hurt me? Why did you tell the world that Maverick was your son when you knew that you couldn’t be his father? Why did you make it seem like I was a cheating whore when you knew I wouldn’t cheat after what Nate did to me? Why did you try to rape me? Why?”

Tom sighed and looked to his lawyer, then back to me. “I’ve never met a woman like you, Y/n. You create these feelings in me that...I tamp them down with other women. You make me want to possess you. I knew the moment I saw you that I had to have you...completely. You’re the only woman I’ve ever possessed that way...and you did like it for a while, I know you did. I remember the way your body reacted-”

“That was in bed! You tried to take over my whole life and when I left you, you tried to ruin my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to ruin your life, I was trying to get you to interact with me. I was certain that you’d remember how you loved me if I got you away from Jensen. And look what happened. He left you, you started talking to me again.”

“He didn’t leave me. He cheated and I didn’t let him talk to me after,” I argued. I licked my lips and looked away, shaking my head. “I started talking to you because I was in a horrible place and I didn’t think I had anyone in my corner. I hated who I was and I thought it was a good idea to talk to someone who saw who I could be. It was a bad decision, just like the decision to date you in the first place.”

“But you were willing to talk to me when you were without Jensen’s influence. That’s all I was trying to do with the lawsuit. Of course I knew Maxwell isn’t my son but-”

“His name’s Maverick,” I snapped. “You never called Nova by her middle name, why do you insist on calling Mav by his?”

He shrugged. “I know that Jensen named that child. He’s an attractive young boy, deserves an appropriate name.”

“What about the rape?” I asked. “If all you wanted was to get me away from Jensen, why would you-”

“I saw you enter that room, there were several twitter accounts posting pics from inside the courthouse and...you were alone. For the first time in months, you were alone, so I went in to talk to you without Jensen or Jared running interference. I just wanted to talk, but...you got so defensive as soon as I walked in...and you called me a psycho.” He looked down and took a deep breath. “I just wanted you to remember that you loved me. That I could give you the things that you needed. Jensen never dominated you, never made you submit. I just wanted you to remember how you liked that...how you liked me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted you back."

I shook my head. "That wasn't the way to go about it, Tom. None of this was the way to go about it. I understand going a bit crazy over someone, but you...you went too far. Way too far. I wanted to love you, but you wanted to own me, and that's not the same." I stood and gave him a tight smile. "I'm glad you agreed to meet with me so that we could talk. Because I'm gonna say, with absolutely no doubt or question, I am done, Tom, and it's not because I'm with Jensen because I'm not. It's because you don't love me and you need to move on...because I don't love you. Okay?"

I started to walk out but I stopped at the door when something in the security guard's hand caught my attention. "You should get help, too, Tom. Therapy has done wonders for me. Have a good life."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You should have recorded it!" Misha exclaimed when I told him about the meeting. "You should have recorded the whole thing! Then you could have released it to the media! Everyone would have seen him for the monster he is!"

"And then I would get in trouble for recording him without his consent and it would have blown back on me." I shook my head and chuckled, taking a drink of my Old Fashioned. "That security guard is gonna buy a brand new car when he sells the video he took, though."

Blue eyes popped wide on my laptop screen as he grinned in surprise. The blue eyes I can trust. "The security guard was videoing?"

"Yeah. I noticed on my way out, so I added a little flare at the end. I high-roaded and told him to get help. Therapy has done wonders for me."

"So video is gonna hit of him admitting to all the horrible things he did?"

"Yup. I don't know...kinda feels like it's finally over, ya know? I finally feel like I can move on."

"I'm glad. I'm happy that you can finally move forward and be happy too."

I hummed and nodded. “Happy sounds like a good goal. For now, we’ll call it ‘content’ or...Satisfied.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for Another Second Chance, coming soon!

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[rubysunnday]

O’ Christmas Tree

Summary: You and Finn can’t wait until the Christmas tree is up to do ‘other things’.

You honestly didn’t know what Tommy and the others were thinking, leaving you and Finn in charge of the children and the Christmas tree.

“I mean, it’s almost as if they want something to go wrong, Finn!” You exclaimed as you watched their cars disappear down Tommy’s ridiculously long drive.

“You can say that again,” Finn grumbled as he stumbled down the stairs carrying a box of decorations. “It’s not even been ten minutes and I’ve already lost Katie and Charlie to the kitchen.”

“Tommy and John are going to kill us if we make their children ill,” you warned, taking a box out of Finn’s arms, giving him a kiss on the cheek as you passed.

“I was planning for us to go ice skating and drink coca,” he said, sighing as the lights came out in a giant tangle. “And then other things were meant to happen.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Other things?”

“Yeah, other things.” Finn looked up at you. “Ya know, bedroom – “

“We found a gingerbread house!” Katie yelled, interrupting Finn before he could finish his sentence. You giggled as Finn groaned, turning around to hit his head on the wall as you walked up to Katie.  

“Was it an assembled gingerbread house?” You asked, crouching down so that you were eye level with Katie.

“Was being the keyword,” Finn added, smirking as he looked down at them.

Katie giggled, holding out a plate to you and Finn which had what was once a wall on it. “It fell apart after Charlie ate a window.”

You took the plate and stared after Katie as she skipped back down to the kitchen. “They’ve eaten an entire gingerbread house, Finn.”

“Yeah, I can see that, love,” Finn replied, wrapping his arms around your waist. “We should probably put this tree up and then send them to bed.”

“So, we can do ‘other things’?” You queried, turning around to face him.

“Maybe,” Finn replied, smiling as you kissed him.

Your romance had been a whirlwind of emotions. You’d met after he’d tripped you up in the Garrison one night, catching you before you knocked into Arthur and fell flat on your face. He’d been smitten with since that day, the two of you rarely leaving the others side. Your parents had kicked you out when they’d discovered you were in love with a Peaky Blinder, throwing you into the street despite the awful weather that night.  

You’d ran to their house on Watery Lane, practically falling into Arthur when he opened the door. He’d caught you, taken you inside and warmed you up, saying nothing. He’d hugged you until Finn had burst through the door, taking his brother’s seat as you sobbed into his arms.

You hadn’t spoken to your parents since, but you didn’t regret choosing Finn over them. You’d gained a whole new family in the process.

“Do you think if we stand on the top of the stairs and throw the decorations at the tree it’ll work?”

You snapped out of your mind and turned to stare at your boyfriend. “If you want smashed baubles and lights everywhere, then go for it.”

“Haha,” Finn muttered, glaring at you as you knelt down next to him and helped him untangle the lights.

The two of you sat there for a while, untangling the lights and wrapping them around the giant tree in Tommy’s sitting room. Finn hoisted you onto his shoulders so that you could reach the top of the tree, wrapping the lights around the top point.

“I thought this was meant to be a joint effort?” You moaned as you hung baubles off the branches, no children in sight.

“They’re all in the sitting room listening to Karl read them a story,” Finn replied, his voice muffled by the tree. “And finishing the gingerbread house. We should probably put them to bed.”

You dropped the box you were holding. “I’ll go close the curtains and turn their beds down if you get them upstairs,” you called as you quickly ran up the stairs.

“Hang on!”

“Too late!”  

Finn swore quietly as you disappeared upstairs, begrudgingly putting the box he was holding down and walking into the sitting room.

“Right, bedtime,” he called, chuckling at the groans which arose from the kids assembled on the chairs.

“But Uncle Finn,” Charlie moaned, sulking in his chair.

“The sooner you go to sleep the sooner Santa comes,” Finn reminded them, and he was suddenly in the middle of a stampede as they all rushed upstairs, tripping over each other as they charged to bed.

“Uncle Finn,” Karl said quietly, following behind Finn as they walked upstairs. “Is Santa real?”

Finn paused, looking down at his nephew. He wasn’t good at this kind of thing. He’d been very quick to realise Santa wasn’t real and had never truly believed in him. But Karl strongly believed that he was, and he didn’t want to ruin the illusion for his nephew.

“Of course, he is, just ask Auntie y/n.”

Karl hummed in response, scampering off to find you as Finn relaxed slightly, glad he’d managed to wriggle out of that one.

You turned around as Karl came in, looking slightly perturbed.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as he climbed into bed, snuggling down with the teddy bear you’d given him last year.

“Is Santa real?” He asked quietly as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Of course, he is! What makes you say that he isn’t?” You asked, tucking him in.

“Just something Uncle John said.”

You froze. “Huh. And what was that, exactly?”

“That Santa was a stupid story to make a usually dull month more exciting.”

You were definitely going to kill John later.

“Well, Uncle John doesn’t know what he’s on about, ok?” Karl nodded sleepily. “Go to sleep and in the morning, Santa would’ve dropped off all your presents!”

Karl smiled as you bid him good night, kissing his forehead. You softly shut the door behind you, walking straight into Finn as you did so.

“Hey, you,” Finn whispered, kissing your neck, his hands wandering around.

“Finn, my love,” you replied, pushing him off gently. “We still have a tree to do.” Finn groaned loudly and you elbowed him, telling him to shush. “I’m also going to kill your brother when he’s back.”

“Which one?” Finn asked, not at all surprised, as you walked down the stairs, your arm in his.

“John. He nearly spoiled Christmas for Karl.” You rolled your eyes. “Him and his big mouth.”

Finn chuckled, spinning around so that he could kiss you on the lips. “The sooner we do this tree…”

“The sooner we can do ‘other things’, I am aware,” you chuckled, shoving him off and towards the tree. “That is if your family doesn’t magically appear first.”

Finn sighed. “Which is highly likely since the last time we were nearly caught.”

You giggled as you set about hanging baubles from the tree branches. The top of the tree only just missed the ceiling, leaving just enough room for a star at the top. Although how you were going to get it up there was a different story entirely.

“Which star this year?” Finn asked, holding up two different stars.

“Gold,” you replied quickly, snatching it out of his hand. You looked up at the tree. “We’re never getting that up there.”

“Hang on.”

Finn suddenly ran off and you watched in confusion as he ran out the front door, narrowly missing one of Tommy’s maids as she cleaned the porch. A few minutes later he came back, carrying two wooden ladders.

“This is a terrible idea,” you called as he proceeded to climb up the first one, placing the second one on top of it and against the wall.

“Climb on my back,” Finn called, turning around to look at you.

“Nope.”

“Oh, come on, how else are we meant to get the star on the tree?”

“We wait for Arthur to come home?”

“But then we would’ve failed in our mission.”

“The mission being?”

Finn raised his arms and the ladder wobbled precariously. “CHRISTMAS!”

You huffed and began to climb the ladder. “If I die, I’m suing this entire family.”

Finn laughed as he helped you climb onto his back, holding your legs tightly as you leant forward and, somehow, managed to put the star on top of the tree, wedging it against the ceiling.

“Tada!” You sung softly as he helped you down, the ladder holding steady as you climbed down.

Finn jumped off the final rung and ran towards you, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you around.

“Bedroom?” He whispered in your ear and you felt a tingle go down your spine.

“Of course,” you replied, smiling into his kiss as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you upstairs, never breaking the kiss.

You got to the top of the stairs and Finn could wait no more as he sat you on a table, passionately kissing your entire body. You giggled as his hand began to wander again, disappearing up your skirt.

“We’re back!”

John’s loud voice filled the hallway and the two of you groaned. You buried your head into Finn’s shoulder as his hand fell back down to his side.

“Every bloody time,” you muttered, taking Finn’s hand as he helped you off the table, straightening your skirt.

“Hi!” You called cheerfully, walking down the stairs, trying to ignore your pounding heart.

“Everything ok?” Tommy asked as you reached the bottom step.

“Well, apart from John nearly ruining Santa for Karl, everything was fine,” you replied, glaring at the man.

“I did what?”

“Karl overheard you saying Santa wasn’t real, you prick.” You swatted his arm and John quickly moved behind Tommy.

“He doesn’t –“Ada began.

“No, I reassured him and told him that Uncle John is just an idiot,” you replied, giving John a false smile. John glared back at you, ducking as Polly smacked him around the head. The conversation carried on as Finn’s hand found yours squeezing it tightly.

“Other things?” He asked quietly, his hand wandering yet again. You giggled, grabbing his hand and moving it further up.

“Gladly,” you replied, smirking as your hand began to wander too. Finn stiffened, coughing slightly and you tried not to laugh as his face slowly turned red.

“Y/N come have some drinks by the fire,” Arthur called, grabbing your hand and dragging you away from Finn.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Finn growled, and you giggled, winking over your shoulder at him as you were whisked away.

“Maybe another night, Finn,” Ada whispered, giving him a knowing look as she followed the rest of the family into the sitting room.

Finn just glared, storming outside to get some much-needed cold air.

[dapper-ships-herself]

@dokiqx @raudrfox2

The answer changes a bit depending on the s/i, so I'm gonna start with more general and like personal and then go into my s/is.

Dazai and I both, let's say wrestle with certain feelings about life and the world around us. When it feels like you're adrift and very little matters, it helps a great deal to have someone to ground you, and that's Dazai and I for each other. When the world is cruel, we can reach out our hands and feel the warmth, and through that feel safe and real. Neither of us are used to letting ourselves be fully vulnerable to the people around us, we're always masking something, maybe not for entirely the same reasons, but we are. Our relationship is when we both let those walls fall bit by bit, letting go of fear and trepidation. He never even thought he could feel real love before, both of us had thought we weren't worthy of it.

And Dazai is a genius, he's amazing and confident in his abilities, he can see straight through pretty much anyone, so I think why would he even want me, I'm so boring and predictable, I'm not a fan of taking risks and putting myself out there. But Dazai sees all my good qualities, he appreciates my strong empathy and my compassion, he sees how even though I struggle with my own worth I put so much worth into the lives around me, and I have a fun way of thinking about a lot of things, I'm creative bright even when I think I'm not. I become like a fresh, sunny spring day for his soul. And Dazai, his hands are so stained and his mind so jaded, even as he works to redeem himself and be on the side that saves people, he thinks there's too much darkness to ever truly be washed away. But I know that even though he's done a lot of bad, what matters most is what he's doing now; he's trying so hard to be good, to move away from the darkness that only acted as a negative feedback loop for him, that was never good for a boy with a mind like his. He is actively trying to be a good man, and I remind him of that. Neither of us are ever going to be perfect, but that's fine when we're together through our flaws. And through it all, we help each other see the beautiful things to live for.

Okay, now let's go into some specifics for the s/is.

ADA! Gillian has been through some pretty deep trauma with the loss of her little sister when they were kids, and at the time she thought she'd never ever recover from that and stay in the emotionless darkness forever, but with the help of Fukuzawa and Ranpo and the other agency members, she was able to heal. Despite the guilt and trauma that still sticks to her, how easy it would be to write the world off as simply cruel and uncaring, that's not her style. She loves the world, she loves the people in it, she knows that there's darkness but that only means that the rest of them should try their hardest to spread as much love and compassion as they can to balance that out. To Dazai, her unwavering light is strange but so calming. She's so strong in her determination to protect her family and everyone and everything that needs saving, it really touches something in him. She teaches him that it's okay, that they deserve to laugh and love and live, and she helps show him how to actively view the world for it's good parts. Even if someday it's hard, some days she's sad and can't forget the past, some days she tries very hard to push away the anger that festers in her at the unfairness that abounds, she still tries and now they can stand by each other's sides and try together. And he also knows what it's like to suffer and lose the one person who's most important, and he helps her confront the guilt that still clings to her, in fact that's something mutual. And she also, even though she accepts and appreciates her ability for how it lets her help people, it's also an ability that takes away a person's free will and can cause a lot of destruction, and she is afraid of the inherent evilness of it, and though Dazai respects how she's made the concious choice to only use it to help people, he sees her fear and helps her accept it.

Mafia! Gillian and Dazai probably have the most complicated relationship of all. Neither really wanted friends or saw the use of them, but they became each other's first real friend after he joins the mafia. They connect and resonate in a much stronger and more natural way than either were really prepared for; and then they were part of the quartet with Ango and Oda too, and she loved them all. She could be quoted as saying the three of them were probably the only things keeping her sane in the Port Mafia. And then she went away on a mission for a few weeks, no contact with her friends, and suddenly that little slice of joy she had was shattered, Oda was killed, Ango had been a double agent the whole time, and Dazai had abandoned her without so much as a good bye, much less and explanation. It sent her to a dark place for a while. She wanted to hate Dazai, and she certainly felt bitter, but she couldn't bring herself to hate him; how could she, really. She disliked being in the Port Mafia, but not only does she feel she'd have no where else to go, that if she left she'd be leaving her father, Ougai, aka the only person who's ever seen to genuinely want her around and stay that way, but her ability is literally to control darkness and too much light literally causes her pain and discomfort, it's clear to her that she was born to forever stay in the world of darkness and never be able to stand in the light. When she and Dazai eventually meet again four years after he left the mafia, there's a lot of complicated feelings too work through. She's bitter and angry and can't understand why he'd leave her like that if their friendship really meant anything; Dazai thought it was the right move at the time, he justified it to himself by reasoning that he knew she felt chained to the mafia and he had to leave quickly and cleanly in order to successfully rid himself of his dark past, he couldn't risk waiting for her to come back from her mission and having to convince her. But, really, he was afraid. After all, he's convinced that everything he desires will slip through his fingers the moment he obtains it. If he tried to hold on to the happiness she brought him and selfishly took her with him, he'd only bring her ruin some other way, and he wasn't deserving of her. He genuinely does regret it though, and it's not easy for him to admit that he was wrong but he knows that this is one instance where he was so terribly wrong. They have to work through these feelings in order to get anywhere, and she also has to realize that she does have the capability to step into the light, which she does partially with Dazai's help. There's a lot of fighting through the bullshit to finally be together.

Jekyll! Gillian takes the stuff mentioned earlier about always masking some part of ourselves to the extreme. Her ability, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, literally manifests her jaded view of the world into a physical creature of chaos, aka Hyde. And she rejects Hyde hardcore, that's why she's so unstable, destructive, and difficult to control, as well as hates her in return. She puts on the sugariest of sweet faces to try and mask this darkness, but Dazai is able to see it. He recognizes her mask easily, because he's basically doing the exact same thing. Eventually, after a lot of plot haha, they're able to help each other let go of their facades a bit and better accept themselves for who they are. They find this kinship in each other that honestly makes it easier for them to let go of their guards at least a little bit. They both hold a lot of jaded darkness with themselves, and they've both done some pretty terrible things and dirtied their hands, him in the mafia and her in the Order of the Clocktower, and they were both able to break away from that to try and become better people, and that's really nice for them to be able to relate to each other.

Circus! Gillian is, true to the name of her troupe the Circus of the Disillusioned, disillusioned about much of the world. It's dirty and cruel and not on your side. But, the circus always promoted family, the whole reason Voltaire formed the troupe was to attempt to not lay there and accept their wretched fate, that they as humans should try and create at least small pockets of a world more right and colorful. And this ideal stays with her. So yeah, they're both not huge fans of the world, but she has a more innate desire to change that, and she believes it's the duty of humans to fight through and not back away from the world through means like suicide (does that make sense? Trying to word it properly). So she actually is pretty, hm, disgusted is too strong of a word to use, she clashes a lot with Dazai's suicidal jokes. And she's too tsundere and jaded herself to outright be all flowery ~I will help you~, but that sort of discussion is a theme between them early on. Their abilities are foils for each other as well, Dazai is an ability nullifier, she's an ability amplifier, and that sort of reflects their views too.

Guild! Gillian at first seems to have the most innocent view of the world, after all she's rich and spoiled by her father, Francis. And she acts rather carefree too, like someone who's always been secure and never known difficulty. But she has known pain, and there's more than a naive rich girl beneath the surface. She's cunning and knows how to read people, she's been trained in the art of business since she was a child and had it drilled into her that you must never roll over for the world. She's also been taught that she's the daughter of the great Fitzgerald, which means she's meant for greatness too, and she hides it from her father but that's left her with a desperation to prove herself and live up to a great big shadow. But she's genuinely kind too, she loves the world for it's flaws and wants to support the people in it. So yeah, they're ways of thinking clash a bit, but at the same time they work perfectly in other aspects. At first, it's more like he's interested in her for the sort of contradictions she poses, but he starts to genuinely respect her and admire how she chooses to see kindness and work for it, how she takes things in to her own hands to make the world she sees in her mind real. And she respects him for his intellect and eventually for his resolve once she learns of his past. And respect is pretty much the bud that will bloom into love.

There's a lot of fighting to find the light in the dark and acceptance of ourselves.

I hope this was all coherent and not to rambly ha.

[dontwanttobeasexyvampire]

I wrote the first chapter of a Preacher fanfic starring an OC and I hope you like it!

Warnings: Mature content, sex, language

It was a sweltering Sunday in Annville, Texas, and the sticky morning heat inside the chapel was suffocating. I sat in the third row next to my Momma, fanning myself with a program and doing my damnedest to stay awake during the service. Unlike her, I wasn't exactly a believer, and as the droplets formed around my brow and rolled down the sides of my face, Momma's voice resounded in my head.

"You're sweating like a sinner in church," she'd scold me in the old days, frequently, at the slightest hint of my distress. Today, I was certainly perspiring through my scratchy Sunday best dress, but at least a quick peek around the room revealed I wasn't the only sweating scamp in the room.

I was trying to keep an open mind—believe me, I was—but the All Saints Congregational church seemed to me to be a meeting  place for the town's biggest outcasts and degenerates. Maybe a quarter of the seats were filled, and try as I might to concentrate, my thoughts drifted, and I couldn’t stop my mind from inventing stories of the folks sitting in the pews around me.

There was the churchgoer who had clearly had the shit beaten out of him, his busted arm held up in a cast and sling. I imagined him losing a bar fight, badly, his pride all but trampled. I'd had to force myself not to stare at another who seemed to have an enormous anus in place of a mouth. No matter where my thoughts went, they couldn't come up with a suitable explanation for this poor kid with the ass face. And then there was the man unselfconsciously stretched out across an entire back pew, dozing. At least he had the right idea, getting in his penance without having to engage whatsoever.

I tried to pass the time by studying the architecture, but I could only stare at the big plain cross at the head of the church for so long, and the harsh sunlight washed out the stained glass windows so I couldn’t even make out the patterns. I had to remove my glasses again and again to wipe the lenses of condensation from the growing humidity in the room, and eventually I simply gave up. The coughing bellow of the pipe organ only served to lull me closer to sleep.

As I sat through a bizarre and toneless punk interpretation of “Amazing Grace," I wondered exactly what I'd gotten myself into coming here. It took only minutes of Sunday service for me to regret ever agreeing to let Momma introduce me to the new preacher, who—she’d reminded me again and again—was single.

After all, I'd only been unattached for two weeks and was in no rush to jump back into the fray. That relationship ended when my boyfriend of 9 years broke things off without warning. I never saw it coming, but all I could think about as the bullshit spewed from his mouth were the things I thought I should be feeling. I wasn't heartbroken or upset. I didn't even feel numb. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of freedom.

It was a signal for change, and after more than a decade in Los Angeles, I had to give in to the fact that Texas was calling out to me. It was time to come home. So I made my arrangements, packed up my things and was out of there in the course of a week.

But even this reinvigorating fresh start couldn't mask that particular stink of Annville. I knew better than to dig too deeply so close to my roots. All that was down there was shit and offal. Instead, the cozy digs I found about 20 miles outside the town limits suited me fine. Even the brown-yellow haze that seemed to perpetually coat the place lifted once you'd gotten far away enough from it. I was glad to miss the introduction of the new town mascot, Pedro the Prairie Dog, on the night I’d arrived. Regardless of what Momma told me, I was sure it was a shitshow.

Preacher Custer wasn't quite what I'd been expecting, either. He was handsome enough, striking quite the figure and emulating a saintly cowboy in his black suit, steel tips and clerical collar, but his little speech threw me for a loop and didn’t exactly inspire my confidence. I glanced at Momma as the preacher spoke and saw that the stuff about starting fights and hurting the community didn’t register at all. But when he got to speaking the word of god, she held her hand to her heart like he’d uttered a revelation. I wasn’t impressed.

When the service ended early, without a sermon, the relieved murmur from the small crowd was impossible to miss. As most of the audience filed out to barbecue and drink Sunday morning beers, Momma leaned over and insisted it was time for me and Jesse Custer to meet. I knew it was a bad idea, but eager to get the whole thing over with, I agreed to step up to the pulpit with her to say hello. We rose from the uncomfortable wooden benches.

That's when we were approached by the organist, who was quite happy to see Momma. She seemed straight-laced and dedicated, but to me it also appeared that she might be hanging on to her composure by a thread. I thought they were going to hug, but a sense of prim propriety forbade it.

"Emily, this is my daughter, Ada," Momma introduced me, and we exchanged pleasantries before Emily saw the program in my hand.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said to me as she put one hand to her face. “Things were kind of last-minute, so the service didn’t exactly follow along. You must have been very confused."

"Oh, I figured things out," I said. "No big thing." While I'd read every word on the flier to kill time, multiple times, I hadn't been paying enough attention to notice the discrepancies.

"Ada here is back in Texas after a long time away,” Momma chimed in. “And I knew she had to meet Preacher Custer." It was then that the very little color in Emily's face drained completely. Momma didn't notice—or didn't care. "I think they'd make a lovely couple, don't you?"

She did her best to maintain a smile, but I think her eye was starting to twitch.

"Y'know, I gotta run," Emily blurted, suddenly seeking like she had a dozen places to be. "Errands, kids. You know. You two take care." And like that, she was gone.

Despite the weirdness, it a welcome diversion. Momma had to grab my arm and drag me along to get me to finally step up to the preacher. We stood there before him for a moment before I loudly cleared my throat and he finally glanced up from his podium to see us.

"Mae, welcome back," he said to her, his eyes fixated back on the podium, which I realized had nothing on it.

"Preacher Custer, I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Ada," she replied as she gave me a tiny shove, pushing me nearer to him. Again, there was a pause as he finally raised his eyes long enough to truly see us both.

"Welcome," he said, extending his hand. I firmly gave it a shake, and even through his twinkling, pleasant smile and the way he looked me directly in the eye, I knew he was seeing right through me. "Pleasure to meet you, Ada."

"Pleasure's all mine," I responded.

Momma continued the small talk from there, but it didn't seem Jesse was absorbing much from the conversation. To be fair, neither was I, so I eventually excused myself, seeking some quiet.

I ran my fingers over the corners of the pews on my right as I walked to the back of the church, contemplating this massive waste of time. But then, just before the very last row, I halted. The sleeping man lay there along the bench, arms folded on his chest. His big hazel eyes stared right up at me.

"Hello there,” he said. His voice was deep but musical, and his words ended in a toothy grin. His unmistakably Irish accent caught me off guard. It certainly wasn't the type of thing you ever heard in Annville.

"Hi," I said back. I was a bit wary, but at least I wasn't bored. He sat up then, pulling down at the corners of his denim vest, and then his playful expression sharpened a bit as he gazed up at me, to the front of the chapel and back again, like he was solving some kind of mental equation.

"I can put in a good word for you with the Padre, y'know," he said, pointing his thumb in the general direction of the preacher. I thought he was joking at first, but his sincerity was apparent. "He's my best mate. Listens to me."

Sizing him up, I never would have pegged him as a friend of Custer's. But he was either the world's greatest liar or he was telling the truth, and despite everything, I believed him. Something about him pulled the honesty out of me, too.

"I do appreciate the offer," I said, shaking my head slightly, "but I'm not really interested."

He paused.

"Not your type, eh?" He raised an arched eyebrow emphatically as he studied me.

"Not exactly," I admitted. "Not that I'm looking. I just got broken up with, so for now I'm gonna be taking things slow."

"Well, you look great," he said, looking down and wiping his palms on his jeans.

"I... What?" I stammered, and when a smile cracked again across his lips, I began thinking he liked getting a rise out of me.

"For someone who just had a split, you look great," he expanded. "There's a look about you. A glow. He was probably a bit of a bastard, am I right? You're better off, is what I'm sayin'."

I don't know if it was the heat, but I could feel a warm blush in my cheeks.

"Thanks," is all I managed to say before I heard Momma call behind me to say it was time to go.

The man stood now for the first time, towering above me by more than a head, as he extended a tattoo-marked hand.

"The name's Cassidy," he said.

"Ada." I shook it back, and as he smiled softly at me, I somehow got the feeling this wouldn’t be the last I'd see of him.

—

Momma blabbed about Jesse Custer for the full 10 or so minutes it took me to drive her home, and honestly I was relieved she never once asked me what I thought about him. I imagined I'd feel a bit more focused once things got quiet, but even once I'd dropped her off, I found myself having difficulty concentrating my mind.

The whole drive home was a blur, and when I got back to my apartment, I couldn't muster the willpower to even look at my Sunday to-do list. Moving boxes remained full and laundry sat in hampers. All I could summon the strength to do was watch old movies on TV and order Chinese takeout.

When bedtime came, sleep wouldn't. I'd utilized all my usual insomnia tricks—blackout curtains, melatonin, lavender oil, a white noise machine and a little light meditation—but I still found myself lying awake, bouncing from thought to thought about my life and the decisions that led me here, yet unable to fully dig down and comprehend any of it.

Hours must have passed, and just when I finally thought my mind was finally settling down, the doorbell rang, harsh and piercing, just like the one I'd had back in Los Angeles. It jolted me out of bed. Now my mind was fuzzier than ever, and just making it to the front door left me feeling confused, like my apartment was a winding maze. I finally reached the entrance after what seemed like forever, and then unlocked the main door and opened it wide to see who had rung at such an hour.

I stared through the screen door. Standing in the dark, illuminated by wall lamps, was Cassidy, and somehow just seeing him brought things back into focus. Noticing the look of concern on his face, I quickly undid the next lock and opened the door for him.

"Cassidy... What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." His voice was resolute, and my first instinct was to comfort him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping closer to put my hand on his arm.

And then he looked straight into me with his sad, probing eyes, cupped his strong hands on both sides of my face, and kissed me hard on the mouth. For a second I did nothing, giving into him entirely, before I tugged on his vest to lead him inside, shutting the doors behind him.

Before I knew it, we were up against the wall, his arms at my waist as he tenderly kissed down my neck, nipping at my ear and sending ripples of pleasure down every inch of me. I felt his hard cock press against my belly through the denim of his jeans and I knew there wasn’t anything I wanted more than him, right here and now.

He was kissing my neck again as I fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans, finally undoing them to find that his big cock was barely being held back by his boxer briefs. I pulled them down, and as his full length unfurled, I became ravenous for it.

Soon he was lifting me by the thighs, pinning me against the wall, and when he slid inside of me I was wetter than I’d ever been. God he was big, filling me up with powerful strokes that made me quiver and call out. He hungrily kissed my lips and then my neck and then my lips again, pulling me toward him with every thrust of his hips to go deeper and deeper, bringing me closer to ecstasy each time. I leaned into him, arms clutched around his neck, and pulsed with his every move. And then fuck, I felt it coming, slowly building inside of me in waves. I told him not to stop, that I was going to cum, and he obliged.

I moaned his name as I climaxed, and he held me as close as ever, never stopping, as sunlight began to trickle through the breaks in the blinds. Then the rays reached us, and our skin caught with bright, dancing flames. His gaze was so piercing now, even as the blaze left us blistered and risen away to ash.

He gave me one final rough kiss and I bolted awoke in my bed, soaked in sweat, mind racing, and horny as all get out. I'd never had a dream so vivid and emotional and erotic. I pulled the curtain aside to peek out, and was slightly relieved to find it was still the dead of night. I took a quick shower to clean up and try to get my thoughts straight, and I suppose I did, because as I lay in bed for the next three hours trying to get back to sleep, the only thought I could conjure for more than half a second was of Cassidy and when I could see him again.

[whentommymetalfie]

Hiya, just to say I think your stories are amazing and I hope you keep going. You make the wait for s5 bearable. If your still taking headcanons I was wondering if you’d like to write about Michaels reaction to tommy and Alfie. Maybe he doesn’t no anything about Alfie so asks a few people but never gets a real answer. Next minute Alfie’s in the kitchen in his pants making tea.

thank you, I do what I can:) It says a lot about our current situation that it’s been AGES since I received this request and we STILL don’t have an air date or trailer for season 5. SuFFEring. But at least I’m still here making questionable content. Here’s a very long thing! 

–

Michael is experiencing a myriad of emotions about the prospect of visiting his mum, and his cousins. Excitement, intrigue, fear, happiness, fear, hesitation, FEAR. Alright: A lot of fear.

-He quickly comes to the following conclusions about the family members:

- Arthur: He seems… nice. A bit unhinged perhaps. But nice. Alright, he’s a bit aggressive, but that just seems to be the norm around this household, so Michael will take what he can get.

-John. Also… nice? (question mark. Jury is still out) Makes a lot of jokes. Sometimes they’re even funny.

-Esme. She scares him a tiny bit. She always has this look on her face, as if she knows all his secrets, and is very angry about all of them.

-Finn. Sweet kid. Not quite as insane as everyone else.

-Ada. Is… a communist? Potentially plotting his demise too.

-Tommy is honestly terrifying. If Esme looks as if she knows all his secrets, Tommy looks as if he knows all his secrets and is planning to use all of them against him. And Michael doesn’t even have any bad secrets.

-Then there’s this other bloke that’s always there. For some reason. Alfie, his name is. And he’s scary in an entirely different way than Tommy. Michael can’t really fight, but he figures he’d have a chance against Tommy. Alfie on the other hand seems to be built in such a way that if Michael punched him, he would probably break his hand. Not that he’s planning on fighting either of them, but honestly, with the way things seem to work in this family that might be just a thing that suddenly happens.

-It’s a bit… strange that Alfie is there all the time. A family friend, Polly explains to him. Okay… Seems weird. But okay.

-He suspects Ada might have something to do with this.

-He eventually musters up the courage to ask her about it. “Are you and Alfie… together?”

-Ada chokes on her tea and soon it’s spraying from both her mouth and nose. She tries to calm down, she really does, but she’s broken into a fit of laughter that is impossible to stop. And Michael is left with no answers.

-He’s none the wiser until one morning, when he comes down into the kitchen to find Alfie making tea in a quite alarming state of undress, and freezes with his hand on the door handle. Then he discovers that Tommy is in there with him. Alfie is entirely unconcerned, and neither of them have discovered him yet.

-And then, Tommy leans in and kisses Alfie. Michael drops his teacup and it shatters into roughly a thousand pieces at his feet.

-A pretty chaotic hour follows. People are yelling, things are thrown, and Michael Regrets Everything.

-Polly declares that Tommy and Alfie should’ve been more discreet.

-Increasingly angry, Tommy responds that their house is the only fucking place in the world where they don’t have to be ‘discreet’

-Alfie tries to calm him down.

-Michael wishes he had the ability to turn into a chair at will.

-The whole debacle leads to Tommy leaving the house in a rage, Alfie hurriedly pulls on a few layers of clothing and follows. And Michael is left with his mother in the kitchen. A long conversation follows. It’s definitely not the way Polly had envisioned the first visit by her son going, but to be honest, she isn’t entirely surprised either.

-Things have a tendency to go completely to hell in this family, whatever the situation is. It’s a ‘whatever can go wrong, will go wrong’- situation. Now, she just tries to make sure that Michael knows how important it is that he doesn’t tell anyone, regardless of what he may be thinking of Tommy and Alfie’s relationship.

-Halfway through this explanation, Arthur swoops in to state that “Basically, you tell anyone about this, we’ll chop you into tiny pieces. Start sending those to the people you’ve told in separate boxes and then-“ Polly cuts him off, stating that Michael surely gets the point. No need to get graphic.

-Michael gets the point. And much to Polly’s delight, this little debacle doesn’t have him running scared.

-Though for the duration of his visit, things are a bit… tense between him and Tommy, to say the least. Tommy takes every opportunity to cast suspicious glares at him.

-Alfie is honestly quite pleased that Michael knows now, since he and Tommy can be openly affectionate again without worrying. And he’s also made it very clear for Michael what will happen if he starts running his mouth.

-Despite all of this, Michael comes to the conclusion that this can’t be a bad thing.

-Because when Tommy looks at Alfie, all that ice just melts from his eyes. And Alfie seems less like a ticking time bomb. And how can that be wrong?

-Over all, Michael is very overwhelmed, but honestly quite happy to have found such a… well, confusing, generally exhausting but also very… loving? (in their own unique way) family.

[suicidefrantic]

Continue from X with @zodiacsohmagod

The mafia had a death wish. Mori had become desperate by letting out Q. Why had they dare let him out? He remembered just the havoc that locking Q had caused, the child had been damn near impossible to get into the cell--- it had to result with him doing what he could. Though Q was slippery, and he quite loved destruction and chaos. That would probably never change. Did Dazai regret imprisoning the child? Who knew any more. Q's ability was one that was pretty nasty, he didn't wish to try to hold back in using it--- but than again anyone's ability could be bad if used out of control or for the wrong purposes. It was like a gun or a knife. They could be used to protect or kill... and he had used them for both. He sighed to himself.

Three days and each day led to a new package being delivered to the agency. The other's didn't know the true meaning of the packages, but he ... oh he knew better than any of the others. He seemed as if he was doing nothing but lying on the couch and being lazy-- per usual--- but in reality he was trying to get into Q's mind and think of a course of action the child might be taking. The motivation was clear as day... play with his mind and make him suffer by using the one thing he had come to care about, those in the ADA. Q had already targeted Atusushi after all, nothing was going to stop him from doing so with the rest of the members of the ADA... not unless he put a stop to him. The notes had a deeper meaning to them .

Day one  to twist those pretty heads. Day two he was watching. The last day, he was the lone person to see the contents of the the package, he wouldn't let anyone else see it. Knowing Q there was something there that wasn't exactly friendly. "If it is a game ya want, than I suppose we might as well play--- Q" he spoke as he read the note that was went alone with the animal heart. He didn't even make a face, he had seen a lot worse when he had been an executive in the mafia--- hell he had done a lot worse. He was good at torture after all, which meant sending body parts--- human body parts-- weren't something he had been against. He did anything to get information .... to get profit for the mafia.

That darkness was still inside of him, sleeping. He could hear the sound of screams from outside the window of the agency. "It seems he has struck" he spoke and put the box to the side , leaving the room. Just as Atusushi came running into the room in a panic, honestly the kid still was so wet behind the ears at times. There were two options , actually really only one when it came to Yumeno. When he could simply trap him once more, that would do nothing--- because what would stop Mori from releasing him again. Not to mention the chaos that could happen should he repeat his last mistake. He had been ordered as an executive to seal up Q... it had not been his wish.

Sure he had mixed feelings when it came to the kid, though he could see the potential that Yumeno could offer if he was taught to harness his ability instead of letting it go wild. Not that he let it go wild because he had no control, no he let it go wild by pure and utter choice. If Yumeno so wished to play this game with him, he would play and he would win. He didn't let anyone follow him as he picked up the piece of candy that Q had left upon the guy's car. He snuck off as the guy was just a single one--- nothing that couldn't easily be taken care of. It wasn't like the other detectives couldn't handle something if they truly needed to. No this was personal.

His brown eyes scanned the area looking for the child, whom he knew was good at hiding unless he wanted to be found. "Yu-me-no- ya making a mistake by challenging me~ Picking off those in the ADA one by one.... it leaves ya open. Though they aren't the ones ya have to worry about. Though I know ya are doing this just as a cry for attention~" He sounded oh so playful as he called out to the hiding child. "A child who has a temper tantrum will get his just desserts in the end~" He gave no sign of what he was doing, oh no his eyes were oh so serious. He had his own plan, step one was luring the child out. "Don't ya wanna stop hiding and come out and play with ni-san~" 

[song-of-amethyst]

8, 9, 13, 15, 19, 20, 22, 25, 29, 30, 37, 45 (SORRY for the spam, i want to ask all!!! >

Padora Hearts Question Meme

8: Favorite Nightray

Okay listen I love Vanessa and the Baskerville siblings but I am too weak for Elliot so it will be him. I’m sorry I had to make this cruel choice ;_;

9: Favorite Vessalius*sharp inhale*So for real, this is too hard. Like, the thing is. There’s favorite *hand gesture towards Jack*, and there’s favorite *gesture for Oscar* but then… Ugh.Ada Vessalius. Sorry I can’t choose a fave but if I have to choose anyway it’s gotta be the little sister I always wished to have ;_;

13: How did I join the fandom?I was filled with emotions so I just screamed into the void. And then people heard and here I am.

15: Why did I join the fandom?Because I had more feels than I knew how to deal with, so I looked for a void to scream in xD. And I don’t regret it because I love you all :3

19: Do I love or hate Lacie?Love, but with frustration at wasted potential and lack of scenes from her pov. She deserved better :(

20: Opinion on the BaskervillesA great deal of frustration with them, I’ll be honest. People who constantly suffer and cause suffering, neither in a meaningful way, is a concept I personally struggle to enjoy. They were fine antagonists I guess, but I didn’t get to fully register their evolution like most characters at the end because the plot was too heavy for that. The concept of the clan itself is kind of cool and at the same time… Not really? I like how they are accepting of each other, acting like a found family full of people who had it really rough before and it’s lovely. I like less how isolated they are (and purposefully so) from the other people, which feels like exclusion (like how Noise told Ada she couldn’t be with Vincent because he was a Baskerville and stuff). Things changed quite a bit post-series I bet, but we didn’t see most of it unfortunately !

22: Do I want to cosplay as anyone?Honestly I’m too self-conscious for cosplay haha but I’d love to try someday! Maybe as Alyss, or Break, or anyone of the past team.

25: Was I ever pissed at Jun?Haha I rant a lot but actually, no. Even when I joke about her having a bathtub filled wih fan tears I always mean it in a positive way.I am offering my wallet to her after all xD

29: Least favorite character:Arthur Barma. Something about his personality just unnerves me, no offense meant. Admittedly one feels the most negatively about issues they relate to strongly and personally, so he probably reminds me of some past flaws that affected me more or less badly. From major characters, I am very conflicted on Alice’s character, so it might be again the projection of a very personal issue. It’s not dislike though, I don’t really hate characters in the traditional sense. I mean I have, for example, negative feelings towards the unambiguous evil of Isla Yura and what he represents, but I don’t really care about him as a character (neither in a good or a bad sense), I mean that in the sense that he, his writing and his flaws, are irrelevant to me. I can’t relate to being a creepy stalker who manipulates kids and murders people for fun, after all, so I have a very different kind of feelings associated with him that are purely inside the story and that don’t reach meta land. Does this make any sense at all I wonder…

30: If I could make two characters interact more, who would they be?Booooy so many of these! Vincent and Break for starters. They cover alone an incredible spectrum of angst to humor. Oz and Ada, because I live for their sibling relationship and Ada’s attachment to Oz and everything she did to find him, everything she feared from meeting him… Honestly I can’t begin to describe how much more of their pure sweetness I need ;__;. Gilbert and Oscar because please don’t get me started on all the angst and regret and love involved ;__;. More Gilbert and Ada too. I… Can’t even. I just love them, I love how lovely their interactions are, and I love Gil with Oscar and Ada because he reverts to his cute child self and it is the most beautiful way to show how nothing really changes deep relationships. Break and Oscar, too, because it is a crack ship I need more of. Levi and Jack, for the same reason. Also Oswald and Lacie, I’m really thirsty for their sibling relationship at its truest without the Twist and Guilt Issues. (I’ve read a lovely fanfic by @i-prefer-the-term-antihero​ with them as children and my heart hurts in a good way every time I remember it and one particularly strong line in it *heart emoticon*)  

If I could only choose two though then I am but a weak human who only wishes that the two main antagonists would try for once to solve their issues in a way that doesn’t involve mutual murder attempts.

37: Least favorite backstoryHonestly this is hard to answer, I don’t think there is a bad backstory, but there are surely backstories that weren’t exploited to their full potential, some more frustratingly than others. In fact what a least favorite backstory would be like to me is something that can be qualified of either saying too much or not enough, right in that zone where you have enough clues to be curious but not enough to be satisfied. So the ones that fall in this category are Alice and Sharon most of all because as main characters, I wanted more, I needed more. I mean, at least for Alice, she shared a body with her sister and if we take both of their backstories as an entity it is definitely good enough. But Sharon? I wanted to see more of Shelly, of her childhood friendship with Reim and Break, of a ton of things that were only implied :(.

45: NOTPIsla Yura x Jack.

I know there are shippers out there. Just, nope, please, stop this madness, let this curse die xD. (jk you guys can ship whatever you want I have problematic ships myself but just… nope xD)

[peakyblinders-au]

Eleonora Changretta

Tumblr Url & Your Real Name: babyblinder.tumblr.com - Tash

Character Full Name: Eleonora Audrey-Cecile Changretta

Nicknames/Alias: Ele, Eli, Rory

Backstory for nicknames/alias/names: All her family and friends call her Ele\Eli quite a girly name, but her dad calls her Rory, a more boyish name, because he always wanted a boy

Gender: Female; she\ her

Gender Role: Ele was raised both as a lady and a killer. She knows her guns, her traps, her escapes, how to negotiate, how to win in almost any situation. Her dad taught her how to shoot and where to stab to make sure she knew how to defend herself if she ever needed to, mostly because of the family name. Also, as I said Luca really wanted a boy, so he pretty much treated self-defense training as a hobby. Her mum taught her to play piano, sew clothes and bake.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Age: 22, looks 18

Birthday: 11th June (idk the year I can’t count L)

Birthplace: London, England

Ethnicity: Mixed – Sicilian by father and Creole by mother

Family Members: Luca Changretta (father), Vincente and Audrey Changretta (grandparents), Angel Changretta (uncle)

Children: None

Face shape: Visible cheekbones

Eye colour: green eyes on the outside, brown on the inside

Hair colour: dark brown, almost black

Hairstyle: She’s mixed, so curly, shoulder length hair.

Skin tone: Light brown

Height: 5’5

Weight: 133 lbs (60kg)

Breast size: 36DD

Scars/Birthmarks/Prominent Features: a scar on her right elbow that she got when she fell from her horse.    

Preferred hand: Rightie to do anything (eat, grab things, open doors, write), but she learnt to shoot and sign her name with both hands

Health: no issues

Phobias:  falling in love, heights

Addictions: Wine, rosé or red. That’s her shit.  She loves a good party\event\wedding and maybe addicted is not the word, but she will never turn down an occasion to drink.

Attitude: A rebel in everything she does. She’s the flirtiest, she loves making all the men wish, but everything is always in the basis of a joke or strictly physical\sexual attraction. When it comes to feelings, she’s the ice queen and claims to have none, Michael is the only one that stirs up something inside of her. She makes everyone believe she doesn’t care about anything and always just does what she wants??? She gives 0 fucks. Her attitude only and exclusively changes towards kids, she loves them and cares for them sooo deeply.

Expressions: She’s Italian come on, she talks with her hands and face. She throws her hands in the air when something goes wrong, she extends her arm and points at people with her palm and pretty much any typical Italian gesture, SHE DOES IT. She shrugs to everything, as to say ‘what you gonna do about it?’.

Residence: She lives in London with her mum, though she often goes to America to see her father and his side of the family. She went to surprise her dad in Birmingham when she found out he came to the UK and didn’t tell her, just to realise he was here for business. When in Small Heath, she stays at her grandmother and grandfather’s place.

Political Affiliation: She has little to no interest in politics

Friends: She’s so damn friendly, she will be friends with the old lady down the road and the 7 year olds playing in the fields. She can befriend anyone in the AU. I feel like Polly would love her rebel, adventurous nature and she’s probably the one that gets Ada in trouble by dragging her out all the time. She knows Lizzie liked her uncle Angel and was prohibited to see him because of gang rivalry, so she confesses her feelings for Michael and they bond on the fact they had\have the same issue, as the Changrettas will probably never allow Ele to be with Michael.

Enemies: OK idk if she should be enemies with the Shelbys after they beef her family and kill her father, or if she actually wanted them to kill him??? So I’ll leave that up to you; though I’d love her to have a hate\love relationship with them and especially Michael, where she likes him for all the wrong reasons.

Boss: Though he never involved her in any gang activities, her father is her boss; anything she does, wants to do or dreams of has to be run and approved by him. Or at least that’s what she makes him think. If she was ever to do any ‘jobs’ she would definitely be loyal and work for her family.

Pets: None in London, she has a black horse called Cenere in Birmingham that lives at her grandparents’.

Finances: Upper class gang-rich but has to hide it, or at least not flaunt it

Marital Status: Single

Sex Life: I’m very comfortable with her being subject to smut, and so is she (we ask, cos consent is everything). She has only ever slept with her ex, but she’s trynna get MICHAEL

Lovers: She’s had a boyfriend in London, an Italian boy her dad set her up with, but he was never really her thing. She’s a flirt alert: does it with anyone and everyone for the (her own) fun and amusement, but would never just sleep around. Michael caught her eye and she’s trying to show him that when she flirts with him it’s something real.

Turn-ons: A dom man. DIRTY TALK and MOANING and just being LOUD AF. Loves it when other people hear it and even acknowledge it (she used to be loud just to piss her dad off, but she found out she actually loves it).

Winking: they’re such small signs that say so much. Being physical, e.g. tickles, poking, slaps, hugs, grabbing, squeezes, anything involving him touching her and vice versa in public (and not). Big rough hands, broad shoulders and chest, muscly arms.

Turn-offs: Any sort of mushy smushy cutie pie things like bringing flowers (buy her diamonds instead) and slow, sweet love making

Dom or Sub: Sub but knows what she wants, and can potentially become dom. She grew up being spoiled af, everything always provided, always a receiver, so she expects the guy to give it to her. But when she feels like it, she can easily become dom, just to remind him who’s the boss.

Fantasies: Anything her with Michael would be great. Maybe she fucks Tommy to make Michael jealous\piss him off??? She never has sex at random but she likes Mikey so much that she even goes to those lengths to make him realise he likes her.

Occupation: A trained gang leader that doesn’t lead a gang. If she doesn’t get a fixed place in the family business, she’d like to be a painter.

Income: All from her father and family. She often has to hide her wealth: Luca doesn’t want anyone to know (tbh almost all the Italians in London know who she is, cos duh they’re Italian) that she’s his daughter as it might bring dangers and honestly, discrimination.

Work Experience: Luca refuses to let her take part in the family business, however she secretly followed him countless times when he went to ‘get jobs done’ and learnt a lot by watching him. She volunteers to teach kids how to write and reads stories at an orphanage in London. When in Birmingham she teaches the kids at Tommy’s Institute painting techniques and literature (this could be after all the beef with her fam and the pbs is done).

Religion: She believes in a God. She doesn’t even come close to religious, but her family taught her that there is a God of creation out there and someone to look to, if she ever needs it, though they rely more on Saints.

Criminal Record: Her dad said no

Morals: She breaks the rules and does whatever her dad tells her not to, what can ya do? She would only do illegal things for family, loyalty and vengeance. I kinda want her to learn to forgive, unlike her family???

Main Goal: She went to Birmingham to surprise her dad, but after learning his business with the Peakys she begs him to let her get involved, to which he finally agrees. He puts her charm to use by making her a ‘bait’ to get information and distract the boys. After she meets Michael she questions her role and involvement in the job

Ambitions: She wants her paintings to be displayed in an art gallery one day, as painting is the one thing that no one taught her or gave to her, it is something she found and cultivated herself.

Regrets: Na, she ain’t got time.

Secrets: Ofc all the times she rebelled against her dad’s disapproval of something and did it anyway, and the times she secretly followed him while he was doing business.

Ah yes, she shot one man in her life… who is it??? idk is it Luca??? no?? yes??

Best memories: Travelling to the US to see her dad and her cousins. 

Worst memories: Being discriminated against for being mixed\of colour. Feeling lonely at times, because most of the Italian kids knew who her father was and didn’t want to be her friend.

Hobbies: drinking, breaking rules, painting, teaching kids

Skills: Painting, shooting with either hand, sewing clothes, making men want her

Likes: attention, being in company, children, partying, pissing her dad off

Dislikes: being alone, showing emotions, being vulnerable and not in control of a situation

Superstitions: She doesn’t believe in the ones that say ‘bad luck if’ but she believes all of the ones that promise good luck

Guilty Pleasures: Baking, I know I said no mushy cutie pie stuff but she loves to bake

Strengths: 1) She can make anyone comfortable around her in no time 2) extremely manipulative and convincing 3) has a fearless sense of adventure 4) could charm a snake 5) has a small emotional depth, so feelings for people are never a problem, until ofc Mikey 6) hiding sensations, others can’t tell how she feels about things

Weaknesses: 1) Michael 2) isn’t always her true self, she puts on this over confident outlook she then has to keep it up 3) easily gets bored and can be very inconsistent 4) entitled when it comes to men 5) children make her melt

Languages: Fluent in Italian and English (I can totally send you Italian words and phrases)

Accent: London accent, but quite posh

Voice: Suave, like she’s constantly flirting while talking. It has a lot of tonalities (singy-songy) like Italians talk.

Reputation: Will get you in trouble, but extremely fun to be around. A rebel. Loyal.

Backstory:

Eleonora’s mum (Jeanette) and dad (Luca) met in NY and fell in love, but interracial relationships were extremely stigmatised, so when Jeanette fell pregnant, he moved her to London, where she gave birth and relocated permanently. Ele’s mother ‘works’ (not that she needs to, Luca maintains her well) for Alfie, where she passes as a single black mother to cover up her real identity as Luca’s love. Ele’s father and his family absolutely adore her, but refuse to bring her to the US permanently because of the higher dangers with Al Capone, and the discrimination she and her mum might face because of their mixed-race relationship with Luca (he might just start a killing spree otherwise).

Ele grew up being trained to kill by her dad and occasionally her grandfather; she begs to be involved in the gang, although her family refuse to let her do any work related to that.

She brings the party wherever she goes and is extremely fun to be around, but doesn’t open up to anyone but her mum about her feelings, emotions or even issues, though most of the time she just deals with it all herself. She has a very stable and happy life, so good that she hates how boring and easy it is to get things, so she rebels, completely ignores any instructions from her father and does whatever she pleases anyway. As a child, Eleonora and her mother would go to Birmingham and sneak to see her grandparents, and though people saw her here and there on the streets a few times, no one knew she was related to them. Before going to surprise her dad, she hadn’t been to Birmingham for about 7 years.