#so the responsibility i guess falls on ada

[sapphire-weapon]

LOOK AT THIS FAKE-ASS BITCH'S DARK-ASS EYEBROWS I CAN'T STAND HIM

also lookin a lot like Billy Idol in this shot, but that's irrelevant

[rosemaze-reveries]

During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you.

this is def an experimental format!! i got this idea while reading the character letters. in the POV of an unknown interviewer (not reader). reader uses they/them.

🔗⚰️📰🔮❤️‍🩹💉🌪️✂️🍀🩰🔫🪡🤹🧲🦋🐍

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🔗 Ada - "Yes, that's my lover. I would say our relationship falls within the typical scope of that sort of thing. Of course, I believe we share something special, but everyone does when they're in love, don't they?" She covers all her bases in one decisive breath, leaving little room for me to comment.

⚰️ Aesop sits perfectly upright, fingers threaded at his knees. His eyes drift to the side and he seems to begin speaking mid-thought. "I had... cautioned myself not to upset their perception of me," he explains. "But they pried, and stayed, regardless of what they found... For that, I'm grateful."

📰 Alice has kept a sharp eye on me the entire time, but it's at this question that she drops the formalities. "I wasn't aware you would be prying into my personal affairs. Where did you learn that name?" Her frankness pins me in place. For some reason, I end up apologizing.

🔮 Eli can't help a sheepish smile from blooming across his face. "Well, truthfully... I don't use this term lightly, but they might be the love of my life." He has been consistently grounded with his responses, so I'm surprised to catch him flustered, however subtle it is. Personally, I'm touched.

❤️‍🩹 Emil considers for a moment. He doesn't meet me in the eye, instead pinning his gaze on nowhere in particular. A faint smile ghosts his lips. After a while, he answers, simply, "Safe."

💉 Emily's hands are folded neatly on her lap. At the mention of that name, her shoulders tense, but she otherwise maintains her composure. "Someone I trust." Her answer is vague and cautious, but acceptable. I'll try to uncover a deeper meaning behind that 'trust'.

🌪️ Ithaqua - "Mine." He is curt and to the point. Yours? I echo, hoping he'll elaborate. His head tilts to the side, and while I can't see the face behind his mask, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes me. I decide not to press further.

✂️ Jack stretches out his hand of blades, flexing each finger in front of him. I can't deny the cold sweat that drips down my spine just by being in his presence. "May I respond with a question of my own?" he says to me. "Suppose a butterfly loses its way, and winds up caught in a spider's web. Wouldn't you agree that the more it writhes and struggles, the more exhilarated the spider becomes?" I don't have the courage to hear out the rest of this analogy.

🍀 Lucky - "I've always been known as a pretty lucky guy, but the luckiest day of my life was when I met them! I remember it was the—" He drags me down a long-winded story about their life together. I get the idea. Eventually I'm forced to cut him off.

🩰 Margaretha twirls a curl of hair, a meek blush dusting her cheeks. "Have you ever been in love before? You're never prepared for the magic of it all. I feel a new rush with them everyday. I know, realistically, all good things come to an end, so I tried to remind myself to expect the worst, but they've proven over and over that... I'll never feel safer than in their arms." After rambling for some time, a look of surprise flashes across her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go off like that. Oh, but I've just never met someone who feels so much like true love before."

🔫 Martha doesn't miss a beat. "Sorry, I don't know anyone by that name." I look down to double-check the name written in her file. Her watchful gaze follows my line of sight. Are you sure? I try. "Must've been some confusion somewhere," she insists. The next day, I realize all my files on her and (Y/N) have gone missing.

🪡 Matthias - "Wh-What?" he starts, but keeps going before I can repeat the question. "Oh, uh, an ally, I guess." Well, I gathered that much. When I press for more details, his head sinks low, fingers grasping at the armrest. "I don't know what they saw in me. Was it out of pity?"

🤹 Mike's eyes light up and he blinds me with a contagious smile. "(Y/N)'s a sneaky one, and I mean it—they've got me under the trickiest spell of all. Guess what happens every time I think about them?" Egged on by his grin, I take the bait. You get lovesick? I guess. Suddenly, he tosses a handful of butterfly glitter in my face. "I get butterflies!" Very funny, I sigh, exasperated with these carnies. Why did he have that on hand in the first place?

🧲 Norton leans back in his chair, scowling. "What's that got to do with anything?" He snaps a couple times in my face, urging me to "stay on topic." It's hard to say if this question struck a nerve, as he's been uncooperative for most of this interview, but my suspicions point me to prod further. After all, it'd have been much easier if he just said he didn't know them.

🦋 Vera's face contorts into a leery, hostile glower. "Why do you ask that?" Before I can say anything to mitigate the rising tension, she catches herself, and her expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry. That's... someone quite dear to me, so your question took me by surprise."

🐍 Yidhra's follower goes pale, clearly unnerved. "She won't answer that," she tells me through shallow breaths. "Th-This isn't my place to say, but I'd advise you not to involve yourself with that person." As if on cue, I get a sensation I can only describe as a hand slowly wrapping around my neck. It disappears when I move to scratch it. Must've been my imagination.

Part 2

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

We will protect you. Part IV

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: ADA and you discuss, what you manage to uncover, with the rest of the Gang. But, you never expected to see three particular names in the list.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

Part III

Part V

_______

You were sitting one of the couches in the living room, between Yosano and Kouyou. You and ADA returned home fifteen minutes ago and were telling others, what happened today.

ADA members were the ones, who did most of the talking. They explained in details, what they do to Stalker. And it was impressive in their own way. Yes, today, they mostly used physical power, but, some people only learn, that dog us angry, only when said dog bite them. And, while it was strange to have Dazai of all people using raw power, you feel so grateful towards him for protecting you today. You were grateful towards all Armed Detective Agency members, Katai and Natsume for today's protection.

Ranpo finally stopped talking and took a list of Stalker's accomplices from the table.

"With Stalker's phone we had some evidence, that will help us punish them severely. But, we need to punish a few more people. Stalker's accomplices..."

Everyone's gazes became darker. Ranpo start reading out loud. Poe took Stalker's phone and Katai turn on his laptop.

"First names, Emily Glover and Eugene Porcher..." You sighed, hearing these names.

"My university professors. They are responsible for job assignment during Charity Fair."

Poe start scrolling through Stalker's phone, trying to find Stalker's chat with anyone from this two.

"No... No... Found it! It seems, that Stalker posed as poor shy crushing student, who just want to see you from afar. And the café were the best option for them, because of all this windows," Poe's hands were shaking because of anger. "Your two professors didn't even question them, after you started to tell everyone about the Stalker."

You rub your forehead and lean your back on Yosano. She immediately put her hand on your head and start playing with your hair.

"Okay... Next?"

Ranpo cleared his throat.

"Johnathan Burke, manager of the café..."

This time, Katai clarify his reasons.

"Stalker pay them for keeping you on Closing Shift."

Ranpo named the third accomplice.

"Samson Beck, police officer, it seems, he and Stalker knew each other. Ollie Foster and Lennie Finch, two students. They..."

You finished.

"Don't like me. Especially after I moved in with you."

Ranpo nodded.

"Yes, unfortunately. And, there are three more names. I have never heard them before. Justin Blackwood, Angela Blackwood and Tory Swanson."

You perked up, hearing these names. You jumped from the couch and snatched the list from the Ranpo.

"And here I hoped that it was a hallucination and I didn't see these three names."

Everyone stared at you. You quickly explained.

"Justin and Angela are my uncle and aunt. [C/N]'s parents."

Kunikida adjusted his glasses.

"I assume, they also liked to call in the middle of the night?"

You mumble something and shrug. You took a pen from the table and start spinning it, trying to calm down.

"Maybe? At least, they never called me in the middle of the night. As for Tory, she is my cousin, I guess. We are not blood related, she is Justin's niece."

Atsushi looked puzzled.

"Okay... What do they get from helping Stalker?"

Poe, who was checking chats, spoke.

"Well, they mentioned something about... inheritance and old hotel. And, being ready to help Stalker get you."

You snatched the phone from Poe and stare at the screen.

It was true. You recognize your aunt's number.

SNAP

Blue ink from broken pen coated your hand. The plastic remains of the pen fall down on the floor. You were breathing hard. You gave the phone back to Poe.

"Because of inheritance... They are ready to destroy my life... Sold me to a creep. And here I thought, they wanted..."

You breathe in and out.

You glance at your dirty hand.

"I need to clean myself up."

You turned away and left the living room.

_______

You frantically soaped your palms. Hot water were burning your hands, but you didn't care. A million thoughts fly in your mind and none of them were pleasant.

You were crying.

One week ago you got a message from Aunt Angela. She said, that she and Justin wanted to visit you the following week. You were happy to see someone from your family again.

But, with that family you don't need enemies.

You heard, how someone open the door. You catch Kouyou's reflection in a mirror.

Then you were embraced by her. Kouyou whispered.

"You can cry as much, as you want, Dear Flower. I will be there."

You sobbed, hiding your face in her chest.

"They were thinking about inheritance... They didn't care about me!"

Kouyou lightly pet your head.

"Don't worry, everything is going to be alright. We won't let them hurt you. I won't let them hurt you."

Kouyou cupped your face. You looked directly in her cherry-red-eyes. She kissed away two stray teardrops from your cheeks.

"I promise."

You hugged her again.

"It's just... I thought, that they are my family. That, they, at least, shouldn't be against me."

Kouyou kissed your temple.

"Not all families are supportive. But we will support you. Always."

You sighed.

"True... Can we stay like this for a moment? Then we will return to a living room?"

Kouyou nodded, placing her hand on your head.

____

When Kouyou and you return to the living room, others looked troubled. You were standing with your back turned to her while Kouyou hugged you from behind. You explained everyone about your aunt's messages. And about wanting to meet you.

Right in the middle of explanation, you got another message from her. You read it out loud.

"Hey, [Y/N]! Let's meet tomorrow and have dinner together! Your uncle and I will wait for you at the "Sakura" restaurant."

You raise an eyebrow. "Sakura" was a wanna be Japanese restaurant. Cheap, with bad food. Because of that, during Charity Fair, they almost had no clients.

Good place for a kidnapping. You rub your forehead. You are getting a headache.

Mori stand up. He came closer to you, stand near Kouyou and put his hands on your shoulders.

"Don't worry, My Darling Guiding Light, tommorow, you will be under protection of Port Mafia. And we will show them, what will happened to people, who cross you."

You looked at Mori with gratitude.

"Thank you, Ougai. So..." you looked at others, fixing your gaze on Port Mafia members. "Who want to meet my family tommorow?"

________

That night you spent in your room.

But you weren't alone.

Once again, you were in a middle of cuddle sandwich.

You were laying face to face with Kouyou. You ran your fingers through her hair, that she let down. Koyouu's fingers were massaging your temples. From time to time, she ran her fingertips up and down your face.

Mori was spooning you. He put his chin on the top of your head. Your legs were intertwined. His hands were wrapped around your midsection. From time to time, he gave you an affectionate squeeze.

And, once again, you felt safe.

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Long time no see. This took way longer than I had hoped. I guess life is really kicking my ass right now, so apologies. I really appreciate all the support from everyone who reads/comments/likes my story. It really helps with motivation when I feel like my writing is awful. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I'm hoping that now that we're moving on to the actual game story line that it will be easier to get chapters out now that I don't have to rely fully on my imagination. It's lacking right now lol. Enjoy!

Chapter 19:

-2004-

“You'd think you and I would have learned our lesson by now.” 

“Just help me get down, you lunatic.” You grumbled once you could look at her properly, as you were finally done spinning in uncontrollable circles.

Ada couldn't keep her composure any longer and let out an amused laugh at your predicament. She tried a few times to stop and regain her breathing, successfully doing so before she looked back up at you, only to begin laughing harder once more when she caught your unamused glare. 

She couldn't take you seriously when you were hanging upside down by your left leg from a beam, struggling to get yourself free from the tangle of wire as you growled at yourself over your failure. Your growling was turned to aim at her when she had made no move to help you down and her laughter showed no sign of slowing down.

“Ada, my love. Please stop laughing and get me down from here.” You said as sweetly as possible through your irritation. You were becoming more and more lightheaded the longer you were stuck up there and your leg was going numb from holding all your weight.

Ada had to brace her hands against her knees to stop herself from falling over due to her laughter throwing her off balance. She stood to full height as her laughter slowed down to a stop, looking at you with fondness and love in her expression.

“Of course, my love.” She moves to help carefully untangle you. “You know, maybe it's time you give up on the grappling hook. It's only ever caused you pain and embarrassment.”

“True, but it also brings you amusement.” You pointed out. Ada nodded in agreement.

“Definitely. But I don't want to see you get hurt, dear. Plus, it's been six years. It's just not meant to be if you haven't got the hang of it by now.” Ada said as she finally untangled you. She quickly caught you as you fell, placing you gently on the ground and holding you steady as you tried to get over the dizziness that nearly made you tumble to the floor of the abandoned warehouse building you both chose to practice in.

You huffed in disappointment. “But I don't want to give it up. It's cool.”

Ada smirked. “Only when you can actually use it correctly.” You playfully shoved her away from you in response to her teasing.

“Well, apparently not everyone can be as cool as you.”

Ada shook her head in amusement as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you in close. “Oh hush. You are cool. Just in your own, unique, way that others may not fully understand.” She cooed.

You raised a brow, unimpressed with her teasing attempt to “comfort” your bruised ego. But, you couldn't resist her soft smile and beautiful brown eyes for long. 

Your face broke into a smile and you gave up on being fake angry with her. “Fine. I give up. Clearly the only people that can use grappling hooks are you and Batman.”

“Does Batman use grappling hooks?” Ada questioned, having no knowledge on comic book superheroes.

You shrugged. “How else does he get on top of those tall ass buildings to stare out into Gotham City and brood?”

“The elevator?” Ada sassed.

The mental image you conjured up of Bruce Wayne dressed up as Batman trying to ride an elevator to the top without being seen by civilians makes you let out a cackle. Ada looked as proud as she always did to get that reaction out of you from her stupid jokes.

“So, I was thinking.” Ada started, still holding you in her embrace. “Maybe we can take a break from work for a while. Have a little vacation for a few weeks and just enjoy each other's company.”

You looked back up at her with surprise. “Ada Wong, the most workaholic person I have ever known, wants to take a break from work?” 

Ada raised a brow and squeezed your waist tighter with a smirk. “Is that not what I just said? Do we need to get your hearing checked?” She said as she lightly flicked your ear.

You swatted her hand away with a fake glare. “Well excuse me for being skeptical. Any breaks that we've had over the last six years were the result of me whining and begging you to submit due to sheer annoyance.”

“I was never annoyed with you. I just like to play hard to get.” 

You looked at her in mock confusion. “Hmm, you weren't that hard for me to get.”

“But if anyone asks, I was. I have a reputation to uphold here.” Ada teased. She playfully booped your nose just to see it scrunch up in reaction. Her smile widened as your brows furrowed in slight irritation from the gesture. “So… is that vacation a no?”

You quickly shake your head. “No! Not a no. I wouldn't mind taking a breather. Any place you have in mind?”

Ada shrugged with a smug smirk. “I have an idea or two. But it's a surprise.” 

You had a love/hate relationship with surprises. Under normal circumstances, you hated not knowing what “surprise” someone thought up involving you. But with Ada, you tend to love whatever surprise she had for you. She never did anything that would make you uncomfortable and always took note of whatever interested you and kept them in mind for said surprises in the future. 

“Hmm, alright. Knowing you, I wouldn't hate it.” You accepted.

Ada goes to respond when a voice from behind you interrupted, making her freeze for a moment as she looked over your shoulder.

“So this is what you have been up to these last six years, Ada. Playing house.”

You quickly turned to face the intruder as Ada moved to subtly stand slightly between you and the unknown man. He looked vaguely familiar. But you couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Though judging by the way Ada was immediately on guard, you could easily assume the stranger was bad news.

“I quite honestly never pegged you as the type to settle down. You always seemed to prefer to be constantly on the move.” The man said.

You observed him as he walked closer to the two of you. His demeanor screamed professional and dangerous. The type of guy with a no nonsense and straight to business attitude. He seemed completely unbothered by your presence, or by the gun in your hand that you took out and had pointed at him as you moved to stand by Ada. So she wouldn't be in the crossfire.

The man had blonde, slicked back hair and pale skin. His age seemed to be around his thirties or forties from what you could tell. He wore dark, professional clothing and donned a pair of sunglasses that covered the color of his eyes. 

The sunglasses kind of reminded you of when Ada had worn hers back in Raccoon City, as they were completely pointless in the dimmed lighting of the warehouse you and Ada had deemed appropriate for training.

“Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises.” Ada purred dryly. Her guard was up. Her mask on. Unbothered. Toeing the line between professional and flirty. She nudged you slightly, her way of telling you to put your gun down. You listened, trusting her to know how best to handle the situation.

“I'm fully aware. Don't think I have forgotten that you had backed out of our deal, Ada. You're lucky I have more important things to concern myself with other than wanting you and your little girlfriend dead.” The man said. 

Oh. 

You should have known.

This was Albert Wesker. That's why he looked familiar. You had seen a picture of him six years ago when you were snooping through files just before Raccoon city fell. You also, very clearly, remembered that this man had wanted you dead and for Ada to do the job. You wondered if that was still the case, but decided to keep your mouth shut for the time being.

“Why are you here?” Ada questioned, wanting nothing more than to get you away from the man. But, she had to engage in conversation with him. She already knew that fighting your way out of this would be pointless and needlessly dangerous for the both of you. 

She could handle this without endangering you.

“Business. I have a job for you. One that requires your particular skill set. Despite your previous failure,” Even with his sunglasses on, you could tell from his tone alone that he was giving you the side eye. “I am willing to give you another chance. And you will be paid, of course.”

Ada raised a brow as she swayed closer to shield you once more. 

“That doesn't sound like you. Giving people second chances.” She skeptically stated. Though, it sounded almost like playful teasing with her mask on. You saw right through it.

“You're not the only one who is full of surprises.” Wesker deadpanned. He seemed bored of the entire conversation.

She smirked. “And if I refuse?” Ada seemed to already know the answer to this question, but asked it anyway.

“Simple. I will kill your little girlfriend here.” He pointed toward you, before turning back to Ada. “And then I will kill you. But you already knew this. Don't waste my time with idiotic questions. Now, what will it be?”

You didn't really like being so casually threatened. But you stayed silent.

Ada glanced back at you, who was quiet throughout the conversation, debating. While you felt you both could take him in a fight, you still had to consider the alternative. 

Umbrella wasn't at all as powerful or influential as it was six years ago. Both you and Ada had a part in that downfall. You had a feeling Wesker knew this. Was he even a part of Umbrella still? Neither of you knew for sure.

But you had to assume that he still has some influence in whatever he was a part of. Meaning he had numbers. Meaning he had back up. Of course he has back up, he's not an idiot. You likely wouldn't make it out alive if Ada refused and tried to fight him off. 

All the more reason to accept his threat/offer.

You gave her a single nod, knowing she had a similar thought process as you. She knew the best way out of this situation. She knew him better. Yet she still paused for your input, making a warm feeling pool in your chest at the fact she cared about how you felt in the situation. You forced yourself to brush it off.

Now is not the time to get distracted by the love of your girlfriend.

Ada turned to face Wesker. “We're a package deal. I won't go anywhere without her.” She said, referring to you.

Wesker looked unimpressed, but accepted nonetheless. “Very well. The payment I have in mind is more than enough for two. But if she interferes with the missions in any way, you both will regret it.”

You didn't appreciate being bad-mouthed like you weren't even there in the room to listen. You spoke up for the first time since Wesker had made his presence known.

“Don't worry, I won't sabotage the mission.” You affirmed. You had a lot more unpleasant words you wanted to say in mind, but chose to not risk the situation turning into more of a problem.

Ada nodded in agreement. “I trust her more than anyone to help me get things done.” Her sincerity shone brightly through the mask she donned for Wesker. You weren't sure he even noticed, or cared to.

“Wonderful.” Wesker deadpanned. “Shall we discuss the details.”

—

You and Ada had to endure hours of debrief from Wesker. To sum it up, the mission was to take place in a village in Spain called Los Iluminados, where you were both to obtain an object called the Amber by someone named Luis. 

You've also both figured out that Wesker is part of the Organization Ada works for. And, by extension, you. The fact that for the last six years, Wesker knowingly and purposely spent the entire time staying out of your radar left you uneasy. If he wanted you dead before, why didn't he just kill you himself? He had the power.

Not knowing exactly what he was planning left you both feeling extremely uneasy. You only had educated guesses based on his past actions to go off of.

“Hey, you know everything is going to be fine, my love.” Ada voiced after you both searched the hotel room for hidden wire taps or anything that Wesker could use to spy on you with. It was clear. You could speak freely.

Her mask was off. The true Ada you know and love returned. Sincere and loving as always, worried about you and how you felt. She could sense your unease from a mile away and wanted nothing more than to comfort you.

You took off your jacket and tossed it on a lounge chair, before facing her fully. “I don't like it, Ada. I really don't.”

She nodded in agreement. “Believe me, I'm not a fan either.” 

“The fact that this entire time we have been together, Wesker knew and did nothing? It worries me.” You said.

“Well, we both suspected he was fully aware of everything. Why is it so surprising?”

“Suspecting and knowing for sure are two, very different, things. I had a small peace of mind when I was oblivious. Now I want to know what the hell he is planning.”

“The only person who knows Wesker is Wesker. Not even his closest 'friends’ know him well.” Ada said. She walked over to the loveseat placed in the very large hotel space. She sat down and encouraged you to sit right next to her.

“Still, six years and not a peep. No threats. Then suddenly he needs you.” You ranted as you sat beside her, on her right side.

“It could be a test. To see if I can be trustworthy.” Ada stated a possibility.

You paused, thinking for a moment. “He sees you as a means to an end. This mission is dangerous. It's very similar to Raccoon City. If you fail, if you die, he'll just send another.” 

Ada smirked, knowing you were right. It does seem like Wesker. “Sounds spot on, my love. He was saving all of his threats until we were needed for a suicide mission. He is sending all of his untrustworthy people first. If we die, which he could think is likely, then his problem will be solved.” She said to you as she placed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

You lay your head upon her shoulder with a sigh. “What if we don't die and we succeed in getting the Amber? Will he actually pay us or will he kill us?”

Ada paused. “I'm not entirely sure. Though, I am willing to bet that he won't just let us go without issue.”

“So, we won't hand it over?”

“We'll decide that when the time is right.” She shrugged.

“I don't know how I feel about going to this village. From what Wesker said, it's a little too similar to Raccoon City for my tastes.”

“I agree. But we won't be there for very long. Plus, we'll be right by each other's side throughout the whole thing. You have my back, I got yours, right?”

You nodded sincerely. “Of course. I've got you.”

Ada smiled, “And I've got you.” She pulled you even closer to her, if that was even possible. While you always felt safe in Ada's arms, she always felt the same way in your own. It was a mutual comfort.

You turned into a more comfortable position to return the hug properly as you both sat there in a comfortable silence.

“Guess that vacation will have to wait, huh?” You muttered quietly into her shoulder. She hummed with laughter as she held you tightly.

“Seems like it. Don't worry, I'll make it to you eventually.”

[strwbrryeyes]

re: headcanon suggestions !

what do tha boys do when they're tired but can't sleep? do they stare at the ceiling or spiral into thought or get up and do something else until an ungodly hour?

hope sleep finds you soon nini </3

- ada ♡

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys when they can't sleep

⟡ cw: none

⟡ a/n: LOL i just realized i accidentally deleted the post asking for suggestions </3 im so tired idk what im doing anymore but yay omg i'll do this.

these are all i could come up with lol

would stare at the ceiling thinking it's the best option but actually slowly loses their mind.

these boys would be responsible and think that if they were to do anything else then yeah, they'd fully be awake. especially if they were to go on their phone because you know blue light and all. they wouldn't even get out of bed to stretch or anything because they're worried that they'd get a second wind and immediately not feel sleepy anymore. unfortunately for them, they still aren't falling asleep and are starting to go insane because they're so bored but so tired but are still holding on until they fall asleep. next thing they know, the birds are chirping and the sun is rising. they end up screaming into their pillow before getting ready for the long day ahead of them.

- ushijima, daichi, suga, iwaizumi, aran, kita, sakusa, kyotani

would start thinking about things that happened years ago

these boys would want to be part of the ceiling group but they end up cringing at everything because their brains decided to remind them of something they did years ago. all they can do is continuously face palm every time a new embarrassing memory pops into their mind. like why did he cry and throw a tantrum first year of high school when their crush politely rejected them? 'oh remember when you tripped in front of the whole school during a fire drill because you wanted to go see your friend?'. thinking about something that wasn't even his fault too like when a kid threw up on him in kindergarten. anything under the sun to make this man feel embarrassed enough that he practically forces himself to sleep as best as he can.

- osamu, asahi, kindaichi, yamaguchi, kinoshita, akaashi, kageyama, goshiki

would play games on their phones

these boys wouldn't even try to sleep lol. they're immediately go on their phones and play dumb mobile games just to pass the time. it pays off in the end though because guess who has the highest score in the country for subway surfers? that's right this guy right here. they'd also probably download all the papas pizzeria games (yes they would pay for them) but end up getting frustrated because why the fuck did wally give them a 98% on the order station???

- kenma, suna, kunimi, matsukawa, nishinoya, shirabu, semi

have a dance party/pretend concert

these boys like to take their sleeplessness in stride and just throw on some banging music and dance around like nobody's business. they'll even turn on their led lights to simulate a dance club or something! they're having the time of their lives while they sing into a water bottle pretending it's a microphone and pretending that they're on a world tour performing for their adoring fans. they eventually tire themselves out and pass out on the floor.

- bokuto, makki, tsukishima (weird ik but let me have this</3), yamaoto, atsumu, tanaka, tendou

would call a friend

if they can't sleep, neither can their friends. they cannot stand the thought of being so bored in the middle of the night and they've already exhausted all other options so they decide to call up their best friend over and over again until they pick up. doesn't matter if the friend ends up being mad at them they just want company dude. after a few minutes though they'll start to fall asleep and snore loudly into the phone causing the other person to get annoyed and scream into the phone to wake them up and hang up because why call them if you're just gonna fall asleep.

- oikawa, lev, kuroo, hinata, fukunaga, komori, terushima,

[dont-f-with-moogles]

The Envelope

Characters: Dazai x Reader Word count: 937 words Osamu Dazai is one of the regulars at the café where you work. Whilst conversations with him are never dull, your tireless to-and-fro often takes you away from the subject of his ever-growing tab. Instead, you are forced to sidestep his constant invitations into a ‘lover’s suicide’ and remind him that such a pursuit can be accomplished alone by any individual in possession of a good life insurance policy. If anything, the living spouse would then at least profit financially. And yet, Dazai neither seems satisfied with your responses nor deterred in his efforts to change your mind.

One day, at the end of a long shift, you were approaching the double doors, keys in hand, when Dazai slouched past the glass. Startled, you opened one door to admit him. It had been some time since he had visited the café and the lateness of the hour only added to your sense of trepidation.

“Just thought I’d stop by… I’m sure you missed me!” he called out jovially. As he perched upon one of stools which lined the counter, you set your ring of keys down noisily.

“Oh, I made do with the customers who actually pay their bills,” you snapped back at him. Your hands flexed at your sides; suddenly you wished you still had something to occupy them with. “Still, it has been a while. I saw on the news that there were arrest warrants out for the ADA…”

“It was horrible,” Dazai agreed mournfully. “Prison was the worst! My cell was tiny, the company was just dreadful and don’t even get me started on the food!”

There was always something so captivating about his performance, even if that’s all it ever was; an act. And yet, the dull, monochrome day-to-day was flooded with colour in his presence. For one so preoccupied with death, he possessed the singular ability to rouse the world around him into life. Hearing his voice after all those weeks was enough to lift your lips into a shy smile. Despite yourself, your earlier resolve was already crumbling. With an effort, you tore your eyes away from his own.

“Look Dazai, it’s closing time and I need to get home. How about I make you a coffee to go? Consider this one - and only this one - on the house. I guess it's the least I can do after everything you’ve been through.” Fumbling, you laid down a fresh filter and sprinkled in several, hasty spoonfuls of ground coffee.

“Actually…” Dazai drummed his fingertips upon the counter. “…I’m here to ask you out.”

The handle of the kettle almost slipped from your grasp.

“I know, I know!” he waved away your protests before you had even uttered them, “…but hear me out, just once more will you? I’ve been preparing for this moment you know!” To add further mystery to his words, he slid an unmarked envelope across the bar. “I even asked around for advice on what to say to you!” Dazai leaned back so luxuriously on his stool that you were certain he would fall. Quickly, he righted himself. “That being said, my cell mate was nothing short of psychotic. He insisted that I get you fired from your job and isolate you from your loved ones so then you’d have no choice but to crawl to me!”

“Wow. What a romantic.” Somehow, you managed to flatten the tremor in your voice. It was fortunate that, by now, the rich coffee decoction had dripped down into the lower basin, for you were able to occupy yourself with an open cupboard. You made a performance of retrieving a fresh takeaway cup before he could notice the warmth in your cheeks.

"So…” Turned away from him, you smiled down into the empty cup. “...you were thinking about me whilst you were in there…?”

”…of course. And, whilst I didn’t take that man’s advice… I did come prepared.“

Finally connecting his statement to the white envelope, you placed the items down and returned his attention.

"Six months’ tab paid up.” Dazai winked roguishly. “Plus tips.”

“Who did you rob?” You turned the paper over in your hands, conscious of the deepening flush upon your face.

He laughed. “Would that matter to you?”

In answer, you placed the envelope over on the other side of the counter.

“I guess in the end, it wasn’t so hard to figure out what to say.” Dazai rose, hands stowed in the pockets of his trench coat. “I just had to prove to you that I’m a man of my word…” He nodded and, taking up the coffee you had made for him, turned to leave.

As Dazai approached the doors, he spoke again. His voice was losing its theatrical quality with every word. It was as though he was breaking character; opening up to reveal some hidden quality. There was something new there; something nervous, tentative, sincere. “…I’m also doing a little better now, I think. Maybe, someday, I’ll die with a beautiful woman… but first, first we’ll live.” He gave a small sigh. And, with that, he raised the cup in a brief gesture of farewell.

“Wait-”

Dazai glanced back over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted in interest.

“Maybe… this time, I’ll let you take me somewhere…” You were untying the white bow of your apron with clumsy fingers. “There’s just one condition…”

He opened his mouth to reply but you interrupted with a raised hand.

”…I’m not heading anywhere near the riverside with you, got it?”

He laughed. Then, pushing his palm against the glass, he held the door open to the fading evening light.

Part 2 (NSFW)

[ithaquasbbg]

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡ 

Todays prompt was for survivor Ithaqua.. so I give survivor Ithaqua ☺️

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡ 

Soft spot - Survivor! Ithaqua x reader

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Pairing: Survivor! Ithaqua x reader

Tw: nope

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

….

You sit anxiously on your bed, staring at the door. Typically, your boyfriend Ithaqua would be back from his matches by now, but for some reason it’s been almost half an hour since his last match, and still no sign of Ithaqua. Just as you’re about to get up and search the manor for him, there’s a knock on the door. Immediately, you jump out of bed and open the door, only to be met with Emily, who is helping Ithaqua to support himself.

You look him over, seeing several bandaged cuts all over the parts of his skin that are visible, and there are surely more. Along with that, he’s holding a paper towel to his nose, likely due to a nosebleed. “What happened to him?” You inquire, staring at your boyfriend who is quite beaten up, more than you’ve ever seen him before.

“He pushed himself a little too far during todays match, (Name)” she laughs, looking over at Ithaqua who’s blushing. “I already did what I could to help some of his injuries, but he said he wanted to be with you instead, so he’s here now.” You nod and help Ithaqua inside, laying him onto the bed before turning back to Emily. “How could I repay you for this?” You ask, being cut off by her laughing once more. “No need, (Name), you and Ithaqua have done more than enough in matches already.”

Despite wanting to argue, you decide to drop the topic, watching as she leaves the room before turning to Ithaqua. “What were you thinking?!” You rush over to sit beside him in bed, looking at his still flushed face with a disapproving stare. Ithaqua simply sighs at his hands. “I know, this looks pretty bad.. but the Hunter was trying to chair the little girl, I can’t let that happen.”

You’re unable to scold him after that, especially knowing how much of a soft spot Ithaqua has for children. Instead, you give him a gentle kiss on the cheek, ruffling his hair. “I wish I could scold you, Ithaqua, you know that?” He laughs and kisses you back, even though he’s surely in pain at the moment. “Now, how about we get you washed off, you look like you’ve been rolling through the mud.” Slowly, you help him up and into the bathroom, starting a warm bath for Ithaqua.

“Now, can you tell me what happened to get you that beaten up? Usually you would have been eliminated by this point, right?” Ithaqua hums and leans into your touch while you ask him this, relaxing in the warm water as you wash him off. “I had Ada and Demi in the match with me, they kept healing as much as they could when I got hit.” Upon hearing he was in a match with Demi, you raise an eyebrow.

“So, I’m guessing you’re probably a little tipsy right now as well?” You’re smiling while asking this, knowing it was possible since Ithaqua was quite a light weight. Ithaqua blushes and nods slowly, avoiding eye contact with you to the best of his abilities. “Yes, I think that’s probably part of why I’m not in pain right now.”

Once he’s done bathing, you help him change into some nightwear, sitting him down on the bed while you brew a cup of tea, coming back with it a few moments later. “Careful, Ithaqua, it’s a little hot.” He nods and shifts into your frame as soon as you sit next to him on the bed. “Thank you, (name), what would I do without you?” You laugh and give him one more kiss on the cheek, watching him quickly finish his tea.

“Even all bruised up, you’re still cute” you mumble, slowly laying down next to him in bed, pulling him close to you so you can help him with his sore back. Ithaqua simply groans in response to your statement, so exhausted he looks as if he’s about to pass out. “Oh, Itha, dear.. I love you so much” you give him one last kiss, watching him mutter a quick “I love you too.” Before he falls asleep, with you following soon after, the two of you wrapped in each others arms.

[deadendtracks]

Response to @divinekangaroo's reply to me in this thread:

Reading your comments up above, it also struck me I'm falling into the Myth of Tommy Shelby as that educated self-critical man, too, which he sort of presents - when in fact he's frequently very uncritical / unplanned and just *does the thing* then suffers the consequences after. (Also the kind of: Tommy saying "i'm an extreme example of what a working class man can achieve" - the delusion in this statement. "I have no limitations." again, the delusion. Does he even believe these words he's saying?)

Yeah, that's just it: he's not educated (traditionally) -- he's an autodidact. He's very intelligent but he is *not* an intellectual -- he doesn't have the time or patience for it. For most of the show he doesn't *care* about philosophy of any kind, let alone political philosophy.

In s5 he's reading Freud and Shakespeare and Greek literature for pragmatic reasons. The Freud because of his own struggles with mental illness (it's implied whatever psychiatrist he'd gone to recommended Freud). The Shakespeare (Richard III I think, on his nightstand) and Greek literature (mentioned in the exchange with Churchill) probably have to do with his paranoia about losing his 'crown' and trying to work on his rhetoric/speech writing skills for Parliament, respectively. Which I don't really see as the same thing as trying to 'pass' as upper class; he's trying to develop his skills to get what he wants in Parliament and be effective. I don't see him going around dropping quotes at people socially in order to look educated, for example.

What I'm trying to say is he's not reading these things to be enlightened or to assimilate to the upper classes and pass as educated; he's reading them for very specific reasons. They're *tools.* Mosley points out that he doesn't have a traditional education, that he's not familiar with Nietszche. Tommy's reaction isn't one of being caught out as uneducated and therefore not 'passing' -- it's wariness about Mosley's reasons for bringing it up (and Mosley's specifically bringing up Freud). It's less Mosley rubbing his nose in his lack of education (though it is that) and more fucking with him psychologically, but that's probably a whole other essay. I've gotten off topic!

But what I mean to emphasize is that yeah, Tommy's *not* educated and he doesn't *try to pass himself off as educated* either. And I don't think you could call him 'self-critical' in the way an upper class educated man would be either.

He's fairly self-aware a lot of the time, but he's definitely not above self deception and rationalizing things. And I'm not sure self-aware is quite the same thing as self-critical. He knows what they do (the crime) is not good. He has no self deception when it comes to how they hurt people -- he says so to Michael, for example. I think he sees this as a means to an end and as you said, one of limited choices, and he *does* want to get out of it. And there's the fact that for a long time he's not fully feeling the impact of any of it, either (which I think is different from deliberately looking away from the impact. I think due to his PTSD he literally cannot feel it in a frozen/numb way, it literally does not impact him even if he looks right at it). It's interesting to contrast him with Arthur, who says he's a good man whose hands 'belong to the devil' -- it's a very different way of looking at himself; I don't think Tommy would be self-deceptive enough to call himself a good man.

But when you're talking about him being aware that going to a prostitute is specifically *sexual* violence (the way we'd understand it, i guess) and that he looks the other way because that would interfere with what he wants, I just don't think that's at all what's going on there.

He doesn't have a thought out coherent political philosophy up through s5, not in the way that might be expected of an 'educated man' (or even a working class Communist like his sister) -- Ada comments on this (if he believed anything he said he'd be dangerous) and this is evident with both Jessie Eden and his 'champagne bubbles' ramble and in that line from s4 about being an extreme example of what a working man can achieve. He sees what Mosely is and the immediate danger of fascism *and the specific threat to he and his family* but he's not a dedicated Socialist despite running as one. His only real political philosophy by s5 is that he's dragged himself up by the bootstraps.

His reasons for getting into politics in the first place aren't about political belief (and would be another essay); but he *does* start to develop beliefs and act on them almost despite himself once he's in office.

What I'm trying to get at in this digression is that despite his (proto?) Communist past, after the war he's about ensuring he and his family and his gang get enough capital to go legit; his circle of caring so to speak is literally that limited and everyone outside it -- including the 'working man' -- is excluded; and he sees even himself and his brothers as tools in reaching that goal for the family in a more military kind of way, where he will put them (and himself) at risk for the 'greater good.'

His limited 'circle' is evident in s4 when he's using factory wages and the possibility of a strike for his own ends in the vendetta. And this is tied in with what you have talked about re: the subaltern, of course, because everyone outside his family and gang have excluded him, including those supposed fellow working men.

What he says to May about laying off people versus the violence of the gun -- i think he's struggling with this point. He *does* see what the upper classes do to workers as violence, but is it any better than the violence he does with the gang? Is it worse? He feels the gang violence is more honest about what it is. They're worse than us. But he doesn't have what I'd call a coherent political stance with all of this, as self-critical as it might be, because he's seeing that ok, if being a gangster is violent and being a capitalist is violent and the alternative is being exploited as a worker, where does that leave you? Might as well keep being a gangster.

So he's gotten that far, but I don't think he'd be able to frame sex work as specifically *sexual* violence. Women just literally got the right to vote, you know?

It would be completely anachronistic to look at it that way, as far as I can tell? I haven't done a ton of research here; but going within the 'world' of the show, *nobody* looks at prostitution as sexual violence *unless the John is actually physically violent* -- someone like Tommy, who's most likely pretty straightforward, nonviolent, and pays decently (given the way Lizzie likes him, I think it's fair to say that's probably the case) wouldn't be seen as sexually violent for using a prostitute and neither would he think of himself that way. It's just not remotely on anyone's radar.

Anyway this is an example of me not being remotely concise.

What I'm trying to say is Tommy most likely looks at it as something most women would rather not do, and when he has the chance he helps Lizzie get out of it the same way he thinks of his own criminal enterprises as something he'd rather not do (and there's stigma to being a gangster -- not the same! Kind! at all! the power dynamic is completely different obviously, but it's also something he wouldn't have gotten into if *he* felt he had any other choice, either). He sees *himself* in Lizzie -- sees someone doing something to get ahead they'd rather not be doing, with ambitions to be something else. I really don't think he has any conception of *himself* as *sexually* violent towards Lizzie, even in a way that he has to squash down. It's definitely not something he's deliberately looking away from to get what he wants, you know?

It's possible I'm being really pedantic here in focusing on the 'sexual' part of the 'violence' but I think it's an important line. I do think it's closer to what you said about the way he treats himself. I'm just not convinced he'd be able to remotely articulate that any of this is specifically *sexual* violence. I don't think he can articulate for himself that what he did with Diana (what Diana did to him) was a kind of sexual violence. He'd be aware he didn't want to do it and did it anyway, and that it's impacting him in ways he thought it wouldn't and doesn't fully understand.

I think the way he equates sex work/his own trading of sex with *working* is important. If he was seeing this as *sexual* violence that he looks away from or won't engage with -- idk, to me it's much more unconscious than that? I really don't think he sees it as different from the exploitation of factory work. It's not just a rationalization he gives Finn in s4 -- it's what he says about himself, to Polly, about sleeping with Tatiana -- that he was *working.* And he gets upset at all of them for thinking he did it because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

It's fully possible we're talking in parallel about this? Maybe because by then the whole world is violence to him. It's probably not even a conscious repression, it's just happens, he squashes stuff down rather than examine it closely. He isn't actually that self-critical or meta-thinking a guy at all despite occasionally sounding like it?

Yeah this is closer to how I think it is for him. He's self aware of doing things that are 'wrong' to get ahead. He's aware that people get hurt. I have a whole theory about him getting into owning factories only to find out if you want to actually make a profit you *have to* exploit your workers and the impact of that on him -- I don't actually think he'd thought about it very deeply before that, when he was on the other side of it. His disgust about the whole thing to May feels kind of newly discovered, the way his "they're worse than us, they will never let us into their palaces" rant felt newly discovered, rather than something he believed all along? If that makes any sense.

The way he *doesn't have the words* about the war, I don't think he has the words for what we'd call sexual violence that isn't outright rape, and I don't think he'd have any conception that prostitution is sexual violence unless someone is literally violent. Otherwise it's just sex for money, and a job people would probably rather not do, but there's a lot of jobs people would rather not do where they're exploited by people with more money and don't have a lot of choices.

By s6 he's trying to actually change things politically to the point where people might not be forced into these kinds of choices -- the housing projects, for example. My guess is if we saw him post-s6 he'd be much farther along on his political 'development' so to speak.

Christ, sorry this was so meandering. I have no idea if I've made a coherent point or not. There's a whole thread about the impact of PTSD on all of this I haven't really even touched on but glancingly.

[milkywaybottles]

The Way Things Were | Tommy Shelby x Reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chapter 2: A Warm Welcome

You tsked, carefully wrapping up Arthur's finger to a splint. Polly's gaze was set upon you with the utmost concentration from the corner of the room, face twisted in dismay. Ada was rushing around, grabbing cloths while John stood, rather amused in the doorway. Blood dripped off Arthur's brow and crusted on the corner of his split lip. "Hold bloody still" You ordered, pulling his finger too hard, prompting him to whine. Becoming satisfied with the job you had done on his finger, you took a damp cloth to his face.

"John, help (Y/N) get the blood out of his eyes" Ada demanded, not wanting to get involved with you. It had become clear that the police weren't going to leave you alone after all.

"Since when do you give orders?" He retorted from the doorway, smirking and rather pleased with himself.

"I'm a trained nurse" Ada shot back. You couldn't help but laugh, and it seemed that the rest of the boys were the same way. Arthur was struggling to keep his face stern from the pain.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts me face' Arthur instructed.

"I bloody am" Ada said firmly.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling" John teased. Ada looked as though she wanted to explode her brother with her mind, her face becoming red with frustration.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking" She remarked, pouring the kettle which had just finished boiling onto a towel. You weren't sure how that was going to help in the situation and frankly, neither did Arthur.

"Well I'm not bloody choking, am I?"

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck". Sibling love reminded you of how you and your sister used to act under the same roof. That's when you spotted Tommy marching through the door with a bottle of alcohol in his hands and a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Let me see him" He declared, putting the bottle down on the table beside Arthur. Leaning down and scooting next to me, Tommy gently took the washcloth from my hands and rinsed it in the tub. Arthur had taken a sip of the alcohol, groaning as he did so. "Gimmie that" Tommy mumbled about the bottle, dousing the cloth with the liquid. Without hesitation, he brought the cloth to Arthur's face and the man hissed in pain as though his skin was being burnt off. Arthur put his arm out on Tommy's.

"He said Mr Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said. Something about a robbery". Tommy recoiled from Arthur like he had touched a hot stove, playing with his cigarette. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers" John snapped, being pushed against the door when Ada entered the room.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. Wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said-" His words were interrupted by a sharp groan as you put the cloth to his brow. Polly shushed him. "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote". You watched attentively at Tommy's face as it shifted, his chest slowly rising and falling but remaining silent. "Well... why not? Hmm? We have no truck with Fenians or Communists"

No response again.

"What's wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with him lately?". Unlike Arthur, you felt as though you could accurately guess that perhaps Tommy's head wasn't in the right place since he came back. Aunt Polly shook her head in disapproval,

"If I knew, I'd buy the cure from Comptom's Chemists"

-

You were busiest at midday when deciding that you were going to step out of the shop and go down to the market. With half an hour of allocated break, you'd be back in no time. A nice fur coat was wrapped around your shoulders, something you had been able to gift yourself since your last payment. For it being midday, the streets were filled with fog but still kept bustling by the devoted working class. Occasionally, a smile would be sent your way as most people knew who you were and who you were associated with.

"Good afternoon, Miss (L/N)" Curly beamed, directing your attention over to him. You stopped walking in the direction of the market and pivoted your goal to the caretaker. The area of the scrap yard was muddier than usual, grit appearing on the soles of your burgundy high heels.

"Afternoon, Curly. How are you?". The nicely dressed fellow was leant up against a post. You had your arms crossed, holding each other. It caught you by surprise to run into the man so far from Charlie Strong's yard and you determined he must have been on an errand for one of the boys.

"Very good, Miss (L/N), very good. Tom has been taking care of me". You had noticed Curly always had a bit of a stutter, often causing him to repeat his words once or twice. Especially when he talked about something he was passionate about, such as horses. "I'm sure he has. I'm about to head to the market, do you need anything?" You smiled. It was nice to hear how proudly some of the associates with the Shelby family talked about Tommy in particular.

"No, thank you, Miss." With his answer, you took your leave back onto the main road. There was an irking feeling that had risen inside you since you left the shop. Like a cloud of paranoia had settled over you, you checked over your shoulder every few streets. You had dismissed the feeling at first but when speaking with Curly, you couldn't help but feel as though you were being watched from the shadows.

Nevertheless, you shook your head and rounded a corner. The smell of steaming bread hit your face like a brick, lowly chatter escaping the stalls. The market was packed with people, children screaming, tired mothers with baskets at their hips and suave-looking men, bargaining for the best price. You remembered you had forgotten to bring your basket and decided you were just going to have to carry the supplies yourself. John wanted bread, milk and eggs for the kids, Arthur wished for a new pipe and you just wanted to get out of the house before you shot someone.

The first stall was easy enough as the bread, milk and eggs had been clumped together. After inspecting the goods, you offered the hardened lady the money and tucked the items in a paper bag you had acquired from her. Lucky for you, there was a small tobacco stall right next to her, run by an older man with salt and pepper hair. He didn't speak a word to you, watching your petite frame bend over the items like a hawk. His head flicked to one side and you felt a dark presence beside you. The man from the counter disappeared into the smoke. Nerves spiking, you didn't dare lift your head as you perused through the different pipes on display.

"Wonderfully crafted pipes. Do you smoke?" A heavy Belfast accent asked.

You shook your head dismissively, your lip curling into a snarl on one side of your face. "It's not for me"

"Arthur Shelby, then, perhaps?". Your head snapped up from the items and instinctively dropped the pipe you were holding in your rosy hands. A hasty scan in all directions had shown that the whole market had been cleared out. "How is he, by the way? Doing well after our chat?". You wrapped your coat even tighter around your waist, keeping the groceries under your arm.

"As strong as ever, I'm afraid". Studying the man's squashed frame, you came to the conclusion that he was the chief of police Tommy had been concerned about. He had an ugly, wrinkled face with a sluggish black moustache, his head adorned with a bowler hat.

"Well then, please remind him I won't just be going after him and his brothers if he has any correlation to the robbery. I'm sure even a pretty face like you can deliver such a simple message"

"Yes, I'm confident I could. But, even if they were involved in a robbery, I wouldn't know. I'm merely a secretary of sorts" You lied surely, not batting an eyelid. Ever since you were a child, Tommy had remarked how fluent of a liar you were and how well you could pull it off. You weren't sure if the inspector believed you but it was enough to get him off your case.

He snorted, head throwing back with laughter, "A secretary! Racketeers such as your bosses having a secretary. Now that's comical". You brought your watch to your face, staring at the man with cold and blank eyes, clearly bored with the encounter.

"Hmm, well if I work for such ruthless racketeers, I really must be getting back, I'm officially off my lunch break. Wouldn't want to show up face down in the Canal. If you will excuse me, sir". Almost pushing him out of the way, you paced past him, heels clacking on the stone pavement. Relief washed over you as you entered Peaky Blinder territory once again. Spineless bastard wouldn't have dared do it in an area where the Shelby associates could see.

As soon as you stepped into the gambling shop, you practically threw the bag down onto the table. The first man you laid eyes on was going to be an unlucky one, as his balls would be the ones you would be tempted to cut off. Unlucky John, you thought, as your friend appeared in front of you. "John, tell your kids that I love them, but Auntie (Y/N) needs a raise if she's going to be harassed by police officers when she goes out to get groceries". Lighting a cigarette for yourself had become second nature recently, maybe Ada was right about your addiction. Arthur had opened the door from his office to peek his head out the door and see what was going on.

"(Y/N), where's my pipe?". You cocked your head to the side, about to stab a man.

"What are you talking about?" John posed, eyes widened slightly in shock. You pinched the bridge of your nose, swooping in to take John by the hand and pull him into Arthur's office.

Arthur's brows furrowed in confusion, "Oi I was busy in here"

The words 'You'll want to hear what I have to say' shut him up very quickly.

"Your little chief inspector friend paid me a visit. Set me up. They have this place staked out, followed me from here to the market, and when he finally decided to make a move on me, he emptied the market so there were no witnesses. Told me real straight, asked about you, how you were doing and told me to tell you 'please remind him I won't just be going after him and his brothers if he has any correlation to the robbery' and then I left. So, forgive me about the pipe, I got a bit startled"

"Bastard" Arthur growled, "I don't want you leavin' without being escorted for the time being.

"John" He barked, turning to his brother with anger, "I want Tommy here immediately"

-

The next day, the boys were out at the fair, doing business with the Lees, you were told. You were also told to keep the fort down with Polly. So you stayed in the shop the whole day, smoking and drinking. You always got along well with her. She was like your own Aunt when you were younger since your parents didn't have any siblings. Ada had disappeared off God knows where so you were in a somewhat grumpy state.

"I'm thinking of taking a day or two off to see my mum" You mumbled from the silence, taking a sip of whiskey. She glanced up from her drink, examining you with her sombre, oak-coloured eyes.

"You know they won't let you go alone to see Mary?"

"I don't really care. They can come if they want. Mum would be happy to see them. She always thought they were sweet boys" You chuckled, knowing they hadn't seen your mother in years. Part of you wondered if one of the brothers would come. Even Elsie would be glad to see them. Your eye drifted to the corner of the hallway, Scudboat rushing down the hall with urgency.

"The police are doing a raid!" He announced, huffing and puffing as he leaned against the doorframe. You and Polly shared a look and stood up suddenly from the table. You dashed over to the window, slipping your fingers between the lace curtains. It was easy to spot the influx of police spilling over from the next street. The boys were not going to be happy when they came back, that was for sure.

"Polly, Ada's out there" You stated bitterly.

"Don't worry about her. She'll be alright. We have to worry about here"

-

Everyone sat around the table, beers in hands, waiting for a proper explanation. Your hypothesis was correct that the boys wouldn't be happy when they came home, Arthur almost flipping a table in anger. Their movements were stiff and cold. "The coppers told everyone Arthur'd agreed to it when he was arrested. They said the Peaky Blinders had cleared out to the fair to let them do it" Polly explained, lighting herself a match. John was serving everyone beer from a bucket that sat in the middle of the table.

"Like hell" you muttered, "We've seen how he plays dirty to get what he wants"

"I never said nothing to that copper about smashing up bloody houses" Arthur retorted at Polly's remark.

"All right, which pubs did they do?" Tommy inquired.

"The Guns, the Chain, the Marquis. The ones that pay you to protect them" Polly informed, "Only one they didn't touch was the Garrison. Make sure people think we were in on it". You knew how that would look to clients of ours. It was intentional, of course.

"He's smart, this copper. So go on, drink your beers and get out. You'd better show people you are still the cocks of the walk" Polly ordered. The men cleared out of the main room, grabbing their jackets off chairs and dissipating out the door. You took the glasses from off the tables and to the nearby sink.

"Hand out some cash to the landlords of the pubs. Pay some veterans to fix the places up" Tommy instructed, the men giving their boss a subtle nod. "So what about you then, Tommy?" Arthur questioned, slipping his jacket onto his shoulders. He positioned his hand behind your back, "Come on (Y/N/N)"

"I have to go to Charlie's to stable the horse. She looked footsore in the box". You and Arthur turned around, Polly closing the doors behind you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john x reader (part 3 of ?)

gif by @michaelgreys but i cropped it cause god daMn 👀

read part one and two! | my masterlist

a/n: this one goes out to all my john bitches!! i know it's hard out here, we get no new content but this part is steamy as hell. its not over yet, though! i'm a sucker for happy endings, ok? i hope you all like it, i'm still working on requests as i go :) much love to @stxdyblr-2k for ghostwriting on this series, she has the most amazing ideas in the world 🖤

love, abi xxx

tagging: @datewithgianni

prompt: john's been ignoring you and you want to know why.

warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw!! smut, cocky john, just straight up porn at the end but can you blame me

John hadn't spoken a word in your direction for a week. Despite constantly seeing you glued to Ada's hip, he’d barely acknowledged you since the wedding. He didn’t even bother looking up. Instead his jaw tensed, taking longer inhales of smoke, constantly examining the pocket watch dangling from his right hip. You were the last person John wanted to see right now. He couldn’t get you out of his head, the flush of your cheeks as you had moaned for him imprinted in his memory. You were fucking picturesque writhing around in his lap, a mess for him, and only him. He’d never felt like this; never wanted someone so badly it hurt. Usually, he drowned what little emotions he had in the nearest bottle of whiskey. You, however, were igniting something inside him he’d never felt. Lust, yes, but it was more. A yearning, a need, to see you smile at his crap jokes for the rest of his fucking life. God, you were getting to him.

His coldness and distance towards you hadn't gone unnoticed. To John’s embarrassment, his brothers regularly referred to it as "a little tiff", usually when you were within earshot, as they loved embarrassing his brother. They were blissfully unaware of the full story, assuming his cockiness had put you off him. He sometimes wondered the same; even though you remained polite by greeting him despite the minimal nod he responded with, you seemed ashamed. John only hoped it wasn't because you were ashamed of him. The truth was, he couldn't get the intensity between the two of you off his mind. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he remembered how pretty you looked begging for him, then the embarrassment of having to reject you out of family loyalty. You admitting you wanted to have sex with him, him getting fucked off at you because you were off your face, complicating everything. Yet, every night, he held your words close to him, trying to decipher them.

He knew his brothers wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand how tragic it was; they'd think it was funny that Ada's best friend wanted to fuck him. Either way, John would always rather put himself in the firing line of his brother's jokes than risk your reputation being blemished. He just couldn't look at you without a wave of guilt and sexual attraction flowing through his veins, causing his jaw to clench and his shoulders to stiffen, his suit jacket expertly covering strain on the crotch of his trousers.

A full week had passed since the wedding, of a man Tommy had recruited in an assassination effort. It was embarrassing how his family used money to attempt to push the trauma they created under the carpet. He knew he didn't have room to talk, but fuckin’ hell, a wedding? Maybe Tommy should've just not hired him to blow the brains out of his own father. Well, it was one way to get rid of the police commissioner who got too nosey, John guessed.

He had hoped that you were a passing phase of infatuation. He’d had many before; he’d been notorious around Birmingham for his conquests. Sure, it was possible he had just gotten overly excited and intoxicated around a beautiful girl. Yet, in the quiet moments of his life, in between his kids and business, his mind was only on you. You, straddling him in that booth, the way you grinned at him as he approached you at the wedding party. Sometimes when he was driving home, his mind would drift off thinking of the feeling of your figure pressed against him, the feel of your lips, your laugh, the sound of your heaving breaths against his ear. You haunted him the most at night, visions of you with his name on your lips in his silk sheets. You were his forbidden fruit, dangling barely out of reach.

***

John was at his desk, paperwork long abandoned in favour of whiskey and a cigar, lost in his own thoughts. The loud tapping of rain and the wind of the storm outside shook the windows, yet John felt somewhat at peace; a temporary peace, but he could unwind. Just his desk, the moonlight, the gas lamp illuminating his empty glass and the heavy English rain for company. He found far more joy in the simplicity of life than his brothers, who reeked of new money. He liked his things the way they were, it all worked, but he had to admit he was a sucker for a good suit. The kids were long in bed, the nanny to comfort their nightmares. It made him feel like a shit father, and he didn't want to be like his useless dad. He had started resenting the life Thomas was forcing him to live; the booze, the partying, the Tokyo, the fighting. It was wearing on him. He needed a break from everyone in this town, he reckoned.

However, a certain unexpected guest was always welcome to him. You had just drifted across his mind when a firm knock at the door caught his attention. He straightened his tie, leaving his legs outstretched and crossed on the dark oak desk, calling for the visitor to enter.

There you were. Dripping from head to toe, but still as beautiful as ever to him, despite your damp hair and slightly smudged makeup. You had caught him off guard, and in his surprise, he couldn't suppress the cheeky grin which spread across his face.

"Got caught in the storm, eh? I'll put the fire on and pour you a drink yeah? Warm you up." He slurred slightly, springing into action, lighting the fire and going to fill two glasses with whiskey, which you politely refused.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Mr. Shelby."

He decides he won't either. He tried to ignore your piercing gaze, motioning you to sit across his desk from him, reaching to put the whiskey in his drawer. "That's not like you. Where you headed, love? That lecture with Ada?"

"I came to see you."

He noted your firm tone, the flirty smile, the coy eye contact.

"What's the occasion?"

"You've been avoiding me." You told him bluntly, his cheeks reddening, eye contact breaking momentarily.

"Yeah, I know." He took a draw from his cigar, rolling the smoke from between his lips on the exhale. "M’sorry."

You watched him for a moment and he met your eyes, suddenly softened from his usual icey blue inquisitive stare. To shame, he looked so vulnerable right now. You could feel yourself falling for him again. This is what you hung around for, the fleeting glimpses of the authentic John Shelby. The lad you'd first giggled about in the girl's bathroom at lunch, barely knowing what sex was. Barely understanding power and politics. Unaware of who you'd both end up as.

"You're fucking soaked to the bone. Come on, I'll put your clothes to dry by the fire. And don't give me that look, I'll give you my coat to save your modesty, lass." He teased. You ignored the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his woolen jacket, some outrageously expensive tailored affair from some London boutique, his large rough hands brushing your fingers. "I'll turn around."

You grasped the coat, heading to the fireplace and warming up for a moment, checking that you were far from his line of sight. This was a dangerous game for you both. You wished he'd grab you, take you on his desk and finish what he started, but the way he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited indicated that he was restraining himself.

You'd rid yourself of your thin jacket, bought from the market stall last week, effortlessly trendy but an imitation of the pricey stuff Ada and the blinder wives and girlfriends you knew. You were jealous of their fur coats, they were always warm and glamorous looking even on the coldest winter night in Birmingham.

You glanced across the room to John. He was staring intently at the wall lost in thought, teeth gritted.

"John? Could you unzip me?" You asked, purposefully making your voice sound as neutral as possible, looking at him over your shoulder.

He paused, bringing his fingers to rub circles against his jaw. You caught a glimpse of white teeth and dimples as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye and you can't help but match his coy grin. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly closed the small distance towards you, his hand finding first your shoulder then the zip at the nape of your neck, your breath hitching as he pulled the zip to your waist. You could feel his eyes tracing the curvature of your spine and hips. You both hesitated for a moment, before John’s warm fingertips grazed your waist, lips pressing into your hair affectionately. His mouth found his way to your ear, cheekbone, jaw and then neck, encouraged by the way your left hand cradled his head as you pressed your body back into his and how your eyes drifted shut at his touch.

"Sweetheart, why did you come here?" He muttered into your ear, his words and casual affection causing your core to swell in response.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you. I've barely slept in a week, feel terrible. Then you've been ignoring me-"

"It isn't personal, Y/N. You know this isn’t how I want it to be." His hands found their way to your waist, gripping lightly at your hip bones, sending a shiver down your back.

"Well this is how it is, John. It's never going to be any different. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What are you fucking on about, love?"

"I reckon that just once can't hurt, nobody would know but us. Then we can both move on with our lives..."

John hesitated, "What about Ada?" His head rested on your shoulder, the scent of your sweet perfume causing him to want you even more. Jesus, he was too far gone.

"We were so close the first night I got here and we didn't. No one caught on then, why would it be different now?"

He wanted to trust you so badly, it ached inside of him. He wanted to feel you around him, make you cum for him again and again, for you to be breathless and shaking under him. He wanted to give you everything he could, even if just once. But he couldn't.

"She's my sister. Family is everything; if I don't have them, I’ve got nothin’." He stated firmly, yet his palms lingered on your hips, the liquor destroying his perception of the distinction between friendly touching and actions that made you swallow deeply and pray for relief.

"You have me for tonight." You pulled away from him, ignoring the groan that escaped from his lips at the loss of contact. You locked your eyes with his blue ones and pushed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, allowing the damp material to pool around your feet, standing in front of the man you'd wanted for years. It was now or never.

He stayed silent, watching you, eyes not leaving yours, challenging you for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over your figure.

"Is it such a crime to want to fuck you?" You asked, the silk of your skimpy underwear forcing John to wipe the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he drank you in, mumbling profanities under his breath. Yet, despite the glances and his sudden frustration, you could tell you had him. His eyes were feral and hungry, daring you to keep pushing him. His shoulders were squared, he was ready for action. The crackling firelight illuminated you beautifully; you were irresistible to him.

"It's not a crime. Where'd you get this backbone from?" He asked, reaching for you but you stepped away, teasing him.

"University up north does sommet to a woman."

"You can fuck off or fuck me with that attitude."

"The latter if you behave yourself, Mr Shelby."

He smirked at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender, before wrapping his coat around your shoulders, pulling you towards him by the back of the collar. "You've got a mouth on you, love. You gonna put it to good use?"

"I was told months ago that you'd sort me out, John-" Your speech was interrupted by a small squealing giggle as he tugged at your hair lightly for mocking his voice, his eyes bright and crinkled at the edges due to his grin. "I'm disappointed with these delays, especially from the Shelby Company."

"Well, as the boss, I'll sort it for you, personally and immediately. Let me make it up to you, lass," John crooned, his lips meeting yours once again, fingers pushing your thighs apart, still clad in your black stockings and garter belt. "This is where we got up to last time, yes?"

"Yes Mr. Shelby, I believe so."

He pressed his lips and teeth against where your jaw met your neck, tracing his index and middle fingers over the silk of your underwear which covered your slit. You couldn’t help but lean into him, a slight hiss escaping your teeth.

"You like that, huh? You're fuckin’ soaked for me already, love," John muttered against your neck, lifting your left leg to hook around his waist, easily lifting you onto his desk, scattering loose papers and heavy accounting books onto the floor in his urgency to feel your bare skin on his. "They teach you how to push a bloke over the edge at that fancy university?"

"No, I figured that out on my own actually."

"Always knew you were bright," He smirked, quickly ridding you of your flimsy panties, the pads of his fingertips hot against your thighs. "Always going for the ones smarter than me, Tommy reckons it's not difficult."

"Your brother's chatting shit, he's not the one ‘bout to fuck me on his desk, yeah?" You shot back, opening your thighs to encourage him, your cunt exposed, cutting off John’s laugh. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. "You're my favourite brother, always have been. If you tell Finn, I'll kill you," You teased.

"Come off it," John grunted in reply, unable to restrain pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your head tilting back, fingers desperately clutching at his hair. “Need t’get a proper taste of you, yeah? Look so fuckin’ sweet for me.” His mouth reached your core, slowly dipping his tongue into you, causing your mouth to fall open in ecstasy. God, his lips were even softer than they looked. His movements switched from light and teasing to purposeful and focused, his fingers curled and pumping inside you, tongue and thumb attacking your clit. He'd gotten on his knees, your legs wrapped around his neck as he groaned into your cunt, causing you to buck your hips wildly at the sensation, moans falling out of your mouth.

“Fuckin’ christ, John,” You swore, feeling yourself pulsate and twitch around his nimble fingers, crying out into the empty office building. You were getting so close, your hips jerking independently, chest heaving as you gasped for air. You were quickly getting overstimulated, you were so close. Before you could finish, John raised his head back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, his hands moving from your cunt to your tits, finger tips tracing the outline of your nipples through your silk bra.

"If we get to do this once, I want to feel you finish on my cock, doll," John grunted in a hushed tone, pointedly moving his lips to your collarbone when you opened your mouth to argue back to him.

"Then I get to ride you." Your statement took him by surprise; most women he'd slept with seemed fairly passive in bed. Sure they enjoyed themselves, but they never took control. He could feel himself swell in response to your words. He'd never been put in this position; he was a stranger to it, but the idea was thrilling and wickedly seductive. Especially from someone who was the epitome of "girl-next-door" as they were growing up.

"Polly reckoned you'd be trouble since Ada told us you'd returned. Don't mind getting into trouble with you, though," He teased, his plump mouth dipping to your cleavage, unclasping your bra, tongue circling your hardening nipples.

"John, fuckin’ christ, need you to finish me off, yeah?" You begged, voice shaking, much to his amusement, his fingers re-entering you roughly. John pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, soothing your body from the sharp sensation, the slight pain exacerbating the pleasure arising from his mouth and fingers.

"I've barely started with you, and already you're begging for me to fuck you." He muttered into your skin, as he watched you writhe and lift your hips, reacting beautifully to the feelings he was reawakening within you.

"John, m’not fucking about, yeah? I need you," You whined, hand resting on his inner thigh, fingers grazing the fastenings across his groin, gazing up at him from your seat on his desk. John hated waiting for relief, he had very little patience, and almost immediately he gave in and collapsed into his large armchair, pulling you on top of him, letting you pin his wrists to the chair and grind against him as your mouth found his, then his neck, removing his waistcoat, shirt and tie, revealing his muscular chest. The bruising kisses you pressed to his skin left him breathless and needing more, helping you unbuckle his belt and push his suit trousers down his legs. You couldn’t help but take him into your hand, moving it up and down his sensitive shaft.

“Christ, you’re too fuckin’ good at this,” John groaned as you spit on your palm to better move your hand up and down his cock, teasing the sensitive tip with your fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you, keeping eye contact as you toyed with him, blue eyes heavy with pleasure and lust for more.

You angled your hips above him and he adjusted himself, using his hand to better push himself inside you. You yelped lightly as you adjusted to his girth, his mouth distracting you by pressing kisses on your shoulder and tangling his hands through your hair, trying to control his breaths as you adjusted to him, soft moans falling from your mouth, your tight cunt gripping his cock.

“S’fuckin’ perfect, like your pussy was made for me,” he groaned, breath growing heavier with the sensation of you grinding against him. Pushing his hips up into you, he couldn’t help but grab at your hip bones, grip burning into your skin, bouncing you on his cock, mouth slightly slack, groaning as he grasped at your flesh. You’d imagined hundreds of times how fucking irresistible John would look underneath you, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

The thrill of having John Shelby with his trousers down in his office, quickly dissolving into a moaning and grunting mess with every rotation or twist of your hips, in the midst of a stormy night while the thunder echoed around the empty streets below was almost too much to take. You should be home right now, curled up in that empty unheated flat, behaving yourself. Even on a date or fucking someone else. But instead you'd gone to him and now you were riding him. You wanted the moment to last forever, right now everything felt so right, you knew when it was over the guilt would hit. But you couldn't avoid it, you could feel your legs start to shake.

“Look so god damn pretty ridin’ me, love. Makin’ me wanna cum inside you.” John growled, panting, struggling to keep pace as you moaned on top of him. Your fingers found his jawline and guided him to look up at you, craving to see how his face looked when he finally came undone. He reached between your legs, torturing your clit with his fingers while he slammed into you a few extra times, using up the rest of his energy. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge, crying out John’s name as you felt yourself release. Watching you whine his name was the last straw for him, spilling into you as your dripping cunt squeezed him, reveling in the image of you a mess for him.

***

You finally came back to your senses, catching your breath, John clutching you to his chest protectively for a minute or two, enjoying the tranquility and post-sex clarity. He checked his clock, sighing and lifting you from his lap to his desk, running a towel under the sink in the corner of his room and passing it to you to clean up between your legs with.

"Charming," You smirked, tired but satisfied. "No wonder the ladies always come back for more."

"Not you though, aye? One night only exclusive, this." He matched your playful tone, but his eyes were dull with exhaustion and he looked almost upset. He was probably just knackered after working all day and then going overtime just to please you.

"Make yourself useful and grab my clothes for me John-lad." You teased, thankfully changing the subject. He rolled his eyes in the waning firelight, locating the clothes the two of you had left scattered around the room. You quickly dressed, not caring how he watched you silently, as though trying to memorize the image of you. Your clothes were far drier than earlier, the last remaining remnants of damp clutching to the fibers and freezing you all over again. Yet before you could even comment, John's wool coat was wrapped back around your shoulders.

"Because you're cold, not because you look fuckable in it." He said pointedly, smirking slightly, the edges seeming artificial.

"Remind me not to fall madly in love with you. Won't be able to help myself if you keep talking like that, Mr. Shelby." You retorted sarcastically with a grin, earning a gentle dig to the ribs.

"It's Mr. Shelby if you're trying to fuck me. John is between friends and family, right?"

"Someone better inform Mr. Solomons of that distinction, then," You paused, "Mr. Shelby."

"Don't be a fucking cocktease." He scolded with a small grin, grabbing his car keys and hat from the door. "You want a lift then? Don't dick about being polite, Y/N, it's fucking midnight, just accept it."

"Since you asked so nicely."

"You know you've got worse since you've been at uni? Too fast for us lot now." He teased, half serious, as he led you to his car. He couldn't believe the beautiful woman in his passenger seat was the girl with pigtails who'd chase Ada around the canal with their girl gang for hours, the pretty teen who read for hours in his sister's bedroom, comparing notes together. No one was surprised you got a scholarship to university, despite your gender and class. You'd been incredibly lucky. Yet, you'd seen the world and had come back to Birmingham and picked him.

Shame you could only pick him once.

[sapphire-weapon]

Ada/Leon still clearly are into each other though, and I disagree with the idea that the Remakes made it so they aren’t/or they hadn't developed in or past 4.

In the 2RE round-table development video they spoke about how Aeon needed more interaction first before falling in love like they did in the OG.

4R isn't the latest we've seen of Leon and Ada chronologically. After 4R, we see them again in Damnation, where Ada insinuates they had some kind of romantic night together we never got to see, and then in 6 we see Leon tell Chris firmly that he'll defend and keep Ada alive, even under the possibility that she may have killed innocent people (even if this ended up just being Carla).

The remakes still lead into the later games, after all. Leon's feelings in 4R don't change how he feels in 6 - it just means he developed differently than we assumed. Last we've seen of them chronologically their relationship has only gotten closer, with both of them caring about each other more and more.

I guess you didn't catch Leon's constant head tilt after Ada comes into scene and also his immediate action when he saw Ada's captured. The man didn't spare a single second and even told Ashley that he knows it's a fucking trap but he's going in.

Remember, people often say things not exactly how they feel. I picked up all the small body language and actions that Leon and Ada do for each other that I firmly believe these 2 have a real thing for each other and the bond is not going to be broken no matter what.

The most telling sign to me is when Leon and Ada are on the speedboat, Leon tried to get an answer from Ada about what happened at Raccoon City and Ada never gave him a straight answer. This is not how a man who's moved on would act. If Leon moved on, he would not have even asked that question.

I don’t understand how people believe that just because there was no declaration of love given in OG2, or constant flirting like in OG4 that means they don’t like each-other anymore? If anything they just made their relationship more realistic which was their intention.

How are you really trying to justify the things that happen in games that were released in 2019 and 2023 with things that came out a decade prior? That doesn't make any sense, anon.

Damnation and RE6 came out in 2012 -- years and YEARS before the development of the games that we're talking about. The decision to pull back from the ship seems to have been made as a result of the backlash to RE6, so you can't point to RE6 and go, "this is proof that they're still dedicated to the ship." Like.

Come on, man. The response to my point of "They rewrote RE2 and RE4 to erase the romantic connection between Leon and Ada" is not "but look at the romantic connection they wrote in before that." Yeah, no kidding. You can't erase something that was never there in the first place.

I also don't understand how any of the things you're pointing at in RE4make are indicative of a romantic interest.

Tilting your head at someone is not a romantic gesture.

Refusing to leave someone to be tied up for slaughter is not a romantic gesture.

Asking someone if they have literally changed who they are as a person because you don't like/respect/want to be around the person they are/were is ABSOLUTELY NOT a romantic gesture -- and, in fact, is the complete and total opposite of what romance should be.

Like, let me just state, for the record: if a man asks you to change who you are for him, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM AND OUT OF THAT RELATIONSHIP. That's not a relationship that you want to be in. Period.

And, also for the record: Leon wasn't going to ask the question on the boat, because he didn't see the point in asking the question, and he even says up front that he doesn't trust her to be honest with him. He only asked it because Ada pulled it out of him, and he expected nothing less than the answer he got. I don't know how you read that as romantic and not as, idk, someone who's still trying to process the anger they feel over the trauma that they've endured. Feeling as though you still don't have closure with someone due to a traumatic event involving them is not romantic.

And it's not just the fact that they removed the declaration of love that's my point. In a vacuum and by itself, no, you're right, that doesn't mean anything. But to remove that declaration of love and then replace it with "As much as I wanted to trust you... I didn't [ever trust you at all]."? The intentions of the writers are made crystal clear when you consider those two things in tandem -- especially when you also factor in Leon acting like a total cunt to Ada throughout the entirety of RE4make for absolutely no reason other than petty childishness.

In Remake canon, it seems pretty clear to me that the relationship has been rewritten to be one-sided unrequited Ada having fallen for Leon, which sucks, because he treats her like shit and she shouldn't have to take that -- let alone be okay with taking it -- from anyone, least of all him.

[hanazou]

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

[nukacoola]

Companions react to Nick Valentine in a gen 3 body

Ada: 

Ada would not really understand why Nick Valentine would want to get a more human body. She supposed his circumstances were different than hers but she had never wished to be human and her robot-ness never affected her quality of life. She couldn’t deny that the look suited him though. 

Cait:

“Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, Nicky!” Cait likes Nick but is a bit creeped out by synths so she’d find this version of him a lot more pleasurable to look at and be around. She’d probably make some jokes about him being ‘a real boy’ now but not much would change as she didn’t spend an excessive amount of time with Nick before either.

Codsworth:

“Why Mr.Valentine I must say you look stupendous! A very fine look for a very fine gentleman.” Codsworth is quite content with his robot body but he thinks Nick is much better suited to this new one. He’s one of the few who remember the old Nick Valentine and the resemblance of him and this new synth body is actually pretty close. He sees it as the perfect fit for Nick the synth as it’s similar to his old body while being different enough to give him a unique sense of self. He was a bit worried about Nick’s and Sole’s adventures now though as he knows Valentine often finds trouble where he’s not looking and human bodies are a lot more delicate than a generation two synth one is. He’d be sure to give the detective a good talking to about safe and responsible adventuring before the two headed off anywhere.

Curie:

“Oh mon Dieu monsieur Valentine, you look amazing! Zis body suits you!” Curie would be very happy that the procedure she had discovered with Sole was able to help so many more people. Not only does she find the mechanics behind it fascinating, she loved to be able to hug her dear friend without worrying about his hand getting caught in her hair. She really liked seeing how glad Nick seemed to be with the transition too. He seemed very happy to have a new sense of self which in turn made Curie happy. 

Danse:

Before Blind Betrayal:

Danse is not ok with this. At least before he was able to tell right away that Nick Valentine was a threat but now he just looked human as anyone else. It was very disturbing to him that a synth could so easily hide in plain sight and look like a real human. Of course he already knew about this problem before but Valentine’s transformation reminded him how easy it was for synths to fit into normal life in the worst way possible. He would be staying further away from the detective now more than ever. Valentine already creeped him out anyways. 

After Blind Betrayal:

Danse is not ok with this. Even after the truth about himself was revealed he still hated the Institute and was freaked out by synths if not outright hateful towards them. Nick’s transformation reminded him how he was just as real as Danse. They were the same. Inhuman, freaks of nature who were built and programmed to do evil. If he had it his way, he’d never look at or talk to Nick again. He felt bad as he knew there was no good reason to fear or hate him but he couldn’t help it. Danse was programmed twice. Once by the Institute and once by the Brotherhood. That second programming would never allow him to feel comfortable around the robot who is now just as “human” as him. Maybe as he works with Sole more to accept himself and his humanity things will change but for now he’d stay away from Valentine.  

Deacon:

“Looking good Nicky! Not that you weren’t the most handsome guy I knew beforehand too!” Deacon wouldn’t be too surprised at Nick’s transformation as he would’ve known about it long before it happened. Working as the main info gatherer for the Railroad meant that he knew all the happenings of the Memory Den. It was really rough whenever a synth’s mind was destroyed by a memory wipe but ever since Sole had realized you can transfer a robot’s consciousness to an empty synth there was always a nice little silver lining of helping someone else gain humanity from someone’s loss. First Curie, then Edna and now Nick. It was a chance at a real life for those who couldn’t fully experience it before. The body definitely suited him. Real hardboiled looking guy with mousy brown hair and a five o’clock shadow. Deacon might make some jokes related to the changed man and might fall in love with him a little bit more but overall things would stay the same between the two. 

Dogmeat:

Dogmeat wouldn’t really be able to tell that the new man was the old man so it would be a rush of emotions at losing one friend and gaining a new one. He would like getting belly rubs from a softer hand though!

Gage:

Gage didn’t really give a shit either way. He thought it was weird that a machine wanted to be human but he never spent time with Valentine so he didn’t need to think about it too much. 

Hancock:

“Nick! You look amazing! Hard to believe you were just an ugly bucket of bolts before.” Hancock would love the new look and be very happy that Nick is happy but he would be a bit disappointed that he’d have to get new joke material. He’s always seen Nick as a sort of father figure and this new human form will only enhance those feelings.

Longfellow:

Longfellow has no thoughts on the matter. He tries to just keep to himself and stay out of all that synth business.

MacCready:

“Damn Valentine! Guess this means you won’t be needing that WD-40 I got for you, huh?” MacCready, like Cait, is a bit weirded out by all the synth stuff but he likes and trusts Nick so he’s happy for the upgrade. It will definitely make him feel more comfortable being around him. He’d probably hang out with him and Sole/him and Hancock more often now.

Piper:

“Holy crap Nick is that you?! You look great!” Piper would be amazed at the extreme change. She’d also be very worried though that Nick would might face more discrimination in Diamond City now given the citizens are more scared of gen 3 replacement than anything else. She’d probably try to post more articles focusing on the Institute being the enemy rather than the synths and she’d stop fear mongering so much about replacement given the worries about her friend’s new look.

Preston: “Good for you, Nick. The new look suits you!” Preston, of course, would be very accepting of the new Nick and would be glad that Nick is happy with his new self. He would also probably recommend a lot more potential clients to him now that he wouldn’t scare off the average wastelander. People who had problems the Minutemen couldn’t fix would be sent to the new and improved Valentine.

Strong:

Metal man now meat man??? Strong is confused!!! Metal can not be meat!!

X6:

X6 would be very concerned about the loss of an escaped synth and he would question Valentine on how he got access to the body and how he transferred his consciousness into it. He would report the whole situation to the SRB unless a Sole with a very good relationship with him convinced him not to. He might also be able to be convinced that this body upgrade is better due to the future of the Institute sometimes traveling alone with Nick. A better body can provide better protection right? Either way he’d be a bit anxious about the situation as all of his train is telling him to bring the gen 3 back to the SRB.

Sorry some of these are kinda short I didn’t know what to write!

[im-lad-ris]

I Won’t Say I’m in Love : Thranduil X Female! Reader

Prompts: “Hi can I request a Thranduil x elf! reader imagine where he likes her but is too prideful to admit it so the reader & Legolas put on a show to make him jealous?” & “Can you write a Thranduil x fem elf! reader imagine, based on the song I won’t say (i’m in love) from the movie Hercules please??”

Submitted by: @elia-the-bibliophile

Words: 2.5K

A/N: Sorry I’ve been so behind on my writings, so much has been going on and its really been stifling my writing process. But I hope you guys enjoy this, I lost the original draft and completely rewrote it from scratch. Also, this has now become one of my longest ficlets! Also its not edited yet but I will go through soon and fix any errors!  Also will add to masterlist soon!

----------------

The first time the elf king laid his eyes on you, you had been a force to be reckoned with. Your hands were gripping dual swords, and you had made your way across the battlefield with grace, slicing down any orc that had found itself unlucky enough to be in your path.

He had taken a sharp breath and tried to remember that he was standing in a battlefield, but watching you move he felt a tug at his heartstrings. He could not even bare to tear his eyes away from you as he swung his own blade at an orc that had gotten to close for comfort. The foul things head had come off and landed at his feet, and yet he watched as you jumped up and planted your feet into another elf’s back, sending him flying out of the way of an arrow that surely would have ended his life. You had used the momentum to flip around and land back on your feet just in time to deflect another arrow with one blade, while using the other one to slash at the orc nearest you.

Thranduil’s face remained impassive, after all he was a king and he had some image to uphold, but he was finally able to draw his eyes away from you. He knew he had seen your face in his kingdom before, but now you were on his radar. He moved through the battle with new vigor, intent on being able to look upon your face once every filthy orc on the field had had its life snuffed out.

----

“Legolas, you really should not make bets that you know you cannot win” you stated, as another guard tossed a bag of coin into your waiting hand. You smiled as you waggled the coin bag in front of your friend’s face, and all he could manage in response was an incoherent mumble.

You had just drunk Legolas under the table, which was usually how these sorts of bets with him panned out. You couldn’t help but to laugh at him before you lifted him up, supporting him with your shoulder and following the familiar route to his room. As you passed into the royal suite of rooms, you noticed Legolas had fallen asleep while slung across your shoulder. You sighed before you opened the door to his room and threw him, rather ungracefully, onto his bed.  You shook your head, a smile still gracing your lips, before dusting your hands off on your tunic and heading out the door.

As you closed the door and turned around you were met with the rather imposing figure of the king.

“There must be good reason for you to be sneaking out of my sons room at this time of night” Thranduil said, his gaze sharp as he looked down at you, but you could see the twinkle in his eyes. You were unsure what such a twinkle meant in comparison to the glare he sent down at you. You had always been unsure about the way he saw you.

“Aran nín (my king)” You started, as you dipped your head into a bow, “He decided that he could beat me in a drinking contest. I’m simply doing the right thing by escorting him to his bed when he could not even manage to hold his own weight up.” You replied as you tried to hide your smile from remembering your friend’s antics.

His face remained impassive, although you were sure you saw his lip twitch.

“Well to make up for my sons... disagreeable behavior, it would be my pleasure to escort you back to your room, híril nîn (my lady)” he said as he fell into place next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back as you both trekked to your room. You tried your best to stay calm, but you felt as if your heart was in your throat and you were sure Thranduil could hear it. His hand never moved from your back, and when you reached your door, he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your palm before bidding you goodnight. You almost squealed with delight but instead you smiled and kept composure, waiting to lose it as you jumped into bed for the night.

You absolutely adored Thranduil. He was by far the handsomest elf you had ever laid your eyes upon, something you had thought even when you were a small elleth who ran around the kingdom. His eyes were an ocean, and you desired nothing more to swim in them everyday for the rest of your life. The way his hand had been on your back, the way his lips had lingered on your palm, all gave you hope that maybe he felt the same, but reality came crashing down every time you met his gaze. He did not smile, and his face was always hardened with a glare. Somedays you wondered if he felt anything at all, while on others you wished that we would gaze upon you as if you were is beloved, his treasure.

 ----

If there's a prize for rotten judgement,

I guess I've already won that

No woman is worth the aggravation,

That's ancient history, been there, done that!

As Thranduil left from your rooms, he had clenched his hand to his side. He should have said something, but what good would that have done. His pride always got the better of him and caused him to hold his tongue. He was the king! How could he bring himself to admit that he was feeling something for you?

The past had not been kind to him in regards to love. He spoke nothing of Elerrian anymore, and although he cared much for her, she had passed long ago, leaving him alone in a cold world. Looking at you, he felt the tug on his emotions he once had with her. To him, it was almost as if a string of fate had been wrapped around both your pinkies, and it was all he could do to ignore the pulling sensation he felt.

He dare not fall into the pits of love once more, as much as he wished he could. He recalls the day he saw you on the battlefield and had to keep himself in check. He cannot... no, he would not allow himself to admit that he felt something for you. He had learned throughout his long life that love was nothing but heartache and pain, and he refused to lose another who was dear to him.

 ----

She's the Earth and heaven to you,

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you

Boy, ya can't conceal it

We know how ya feel and

Who you're thinking of!

He watched as you sat and laughed with his son, his nails digging into the arm of his seat at the head of the table.

After Thranduil’s first encounter with you, he could not help but make it so you were always near him. He found out your name from Legolas, who apparently was your friend and confidant, which is the most likely reason he knew he had seen you before. After this, he assigned you as one of the main commanders of Mirkwood’s forces due to your battle prowess, however, this had allowed you to not only join his council, but also the privilege of being the only elleth on it.

However, this had also led to Legolas being able to spend more time with you. Thranduil refused to admit that he was jealous. He was the ruler of the kingdom, one such as he did not feel such things. But the more he saw you laugh with his son, the more he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from lashing out in an unsavory manner in front of you.

However, he could not stop his glare towards his son as he watched you fling your head back in laughter, your arm on Legolas’s shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. Legolas turned to look him in the eyes, clearly uncertain as to the nature of the glare he was receiving, although his face did light up as he seemed to put the pieces together.

Thranduil gritted his teeth together, his fingernails leaving crescent indents on his palms as he balled his fists, he was feeling as though he would be ground into dust as he watched Legolas lean over and whisper in your ear as you blushed and nodded. He felt as if he was a mortar, with the pestle grinding his very being into dust. Yet, he was still stone, still unwavering and would not yet yield. He refused to speak with you on the matter of his affections, it was unbecoming of a ruler. He would not stand here and declare his feelings for you, and he most likely never would.

He pushed his emotions down and loosened his fists as his knuckles had turn white, he willed his face to once again be completely impassive, even as he felt as if wanted to crush something with his hands as you and Legolas left together.

 ----

Legolas leaned towards you, his hand on your shoulder and a knowing smile on his lips. He turned and met his fathers fiery gaze once more before he spoke.

“Hey, Y/N, remember that crush you have on my ada (father)?” he asked you. Your eyes went wide, and you sputtered before trying to cover the growing blush on your face with your hands.

“Leg! Do you really need to bring that up here?” you whispered back at him through your hands.

“Of course! Any chance to embarrass you Mellon nîn (my friend)!” he laughed for a second, before his face turned deathly serious. “But back to the point, I think I have a plan of sorts, and I very much believe you’d wish you hear it”

 ----

No chance, no way

I won't say it, no, no

You swoon, you sigh

Why deny it, uh-oh

It's too cliche

I won't say I'm in love

The next evening, the pieces of Legolas’s plan had slid together almost seamlessly.

He sat with you at the front of the corridor, so that any who passed could plainly see what was happening between the two of you. This worked in his favor, especially since his ada usually passed the hall around this time in order to reach the royal suites. Plus, any servants who passed were certain to inform him about the goings on they had witnessed, which would most likely prompt him to rush to you both.

Legolas’s arm was slung over your shoulder and your legs were pulled into his lap, He gently rubbed small circles into your thigh with his fingernails.

Soon, he heard the familiar footsteps of his ada, and began to set the plan into motion.

His hand left your knee and he placed his finger under your chin, using it to keep your face level with his. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dark gray of his ada’s robe as he began to turn into the corridor. Legolas winked at you and pulled you closer, his lips dancing over the shell of your ear. He couldn’t help but whisper softly to you, “I wish I could see the look on his face right now Y/N”, causing you to involuntarily shudder.

After turning the corner, Thranduil was practically seeing red, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His son, his only child, amorously flirting in his hallways, his kingdom. However., when he saw it was you in Legolas’s arms, he forgot how to breathe, and he couldn’t seem to think clearly. His brain had turned to acid in his skull. His face hardened as he stormed over to you both, grabbing you by the wrist harshly and yanking you away from Legolas and down the hall. After a few twists and turns, he had reached the end of a deserted hallway and pushed you up against the wall.

Before you could even gasp at the contact your body had made with the wall behind you, Thranduil’s lips were on yours. You stood still, his hand still grasping your wrist tight. He pulled away from you, and the look on his face seemed dejected, it was unbecoming of his beautiful features to be contorted into such a look of melancholia.

He released the pressure on your wrist and dropped it before turning away and trying to make off down the corridor.

You couldn’t stop yourself by grabbing him by the back of his robe and pushing him against the wall, just as he had done to you. “Where do you think you’re going...” you surged forward, as your lips brushed over his, “Thranduil..”

His eyes widened before you crashed your lips into his, full of fiery passion and spirit, the kind he had seen from you so often. His lips were warm, and he tasted of mint, this moment reminding you of days spent in the forest, nights spent under the stars. He sucked at your bottom lip as your hand wove its way into his hair. You couldn’t help yourself as you grazed your teeth over his lower lip, your hands roaming up to run through his hair and caress his face and neck, everything soft as silk. He let out a low groan before he grabbed you once again and switched positions, your back once again on the wall. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.

“Fuck...” he muttered under his breath, before burying his head in your shoulder.

“Thranduil... Gi melin (I love you)” you whispered from swollen lips “Meleth nîn…(my love)” one of your hands rubbed circles into his low back, the other tucked strands of hair behind his ear.

“Do not forget Y/N,” he started, the shakiness in his voice surprising you “I would pluck every star from the sky and lay them at your feet. I offer you my sword, I offer you my life.” He raised his head from your shoulder before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You are my ithildim (star-light)” he whispered as his thumb ran across your cheek. He offered you a small smile, the first genuine one you had ever seen from him, before he pulled his hand away and walked off down the corridor.

Your fingers ran over your lips, which still tingled, and when you licked at them you could still taste the mint on them. Your skin felt seared where his hands had run across it. As you watched him leave, you could not help but to let out a small laugh. His pride had forbidden him from directly saying he loved you the way you did him, but his actions, his words, they all proved to you the truth. Although he could not say his feelings, he had shown you them plainly enough.

You smacked your hands against your cheeks and shook your head before you made after him, you refused to let your little rendezvous be over so soon, especially after you and Legolas had went through all that effort to make it happen.

 ----------------

Tag List: @writing-fortolkein @saltysalt01​ @your-pixels-are-showing​ @emastrangee 

 Remember to send an ask or message me if you want to be added to the lag list

[writingwithacupoftea]

Comfort Blanket

Summary: It is up to Tommy and Y/N Shelby to keep the family together after their Mother’s death. They discover along the way that sometimes a comfort blanket is an object and other times it’s a feeling...

Word Count: 1891

Prompt: “There’s no place for us to sleep at night.” (part of @smallheathgangsters​ 1k followers party 💜)

A/N: This ended up being way more festive than I anticipated but, hey ho, it’s less than 3 month til Christmas now! I’ve also definitely taken some liberties with the whole pre-series story and ages and stuff but oh well. I’ve wanted to write a piece based on the blanket in this gif for a while now, so this prompt just worked perfectly for it! 

Congratulations again, Leah, on the 1k milestone - it’s so well deserved, and here's to 1k more 🥳 I hope you and everyone else enjoys my little contribution to the celebration ❤️

(gif by @nofckingfighting​)

The Shelby clan had never known darker times than the months following their mother's death.

Their father was more absent than ever before. Arthur Shelby Junior was still hopelessly trailing around after him. John had fled to Martha's house, seeking comfort in her arms. Ada was distraught, and everyone had given up trying to guess what her next move would be, for entering her teenage years had made her even more unpredictable than ever anyway. Between looking after Finn and working as much as her brother would allow, Polly was permanently exhausted.

Tommy felt like he was drowning alongside his mother, burdened with the responsibility of trying to look after his family as best he could whilst grieving.

That left Y/N. Born just a year after Tommy, she was the one he turned to when he needed a break. Whether it was to cry and mourn the loss of his beloved mother, or taking charge when all Tommy wanted to do was sleep after a long day's work, Y/N was always there. She picked up the pieces for all of her siblings, and was the oil that kept the cogs of the machine turning.

One night, Tommy and Y/N found themselves alone in the parlour, relishing in the moments of quiet that had fallen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. It was at these times that the pair confided in each other, whether it was their own news or that of their siblings.

Tonight, so far, they had sat in silence. But Y/N knew that Tommy would tell her something soon, and also knew that Tommy would be able to sense that she had something to tell him. It was all a matter of who would speak first.

"I don't know what to do, Y/N/N." Tommy had taken the leap this time.

"Don't know what to do about what?" Her brother's confession had surprised Y/N: Tommy always had a plan for everything.

"I'm doing everything I can to provide for us all and it's still not enough, even though I've taken every fucking job I can find. The lock on the door is still broken from when Dad came home drunk the other night, and the window next to Finn's nursery hasn't been mended yet from when John accidentally smashed it with his ball. Polly's had to take all of the spare blankets for him so that he doesn't get sick. We can't afford to buy any more. There's no place for us to sleep at night. Not somewhere that's safe and warm, anyway."

Y/N sighed. "First of all, Tom, and this is important, so you'd better fucking pay attention to me." Y/N was pleased to see that he let out a slight laugh at that. "You're doing an amazing job at all of this. We're all so grateful for everything you're doing, even if I'm the only one that will actually say it out loud. We couldn't ask any more of you, Tommy.

"Secondly, I may be able to help you – now, don't get mad!" Y/N added this last part hurriedly, having seen Tommy's eyebrows quickly shoot up. Taking a deep breath, Y/N broke the news. "Harry has given me a job...as a barmaid in the Garrison."

"What?!" Tommy jumped out of his seat, looking down at Y/N in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? If you think I'm going to let you work there with all those drunk idiots every night, then you'd better think again."

"If you think you can tell me what I can and can't do, then you'd fucking better think again, Thomas," Y/N retorted, as her brother began to pace up and down the room. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm an adult now and can make my own decisions. Anyway, I've worked everything out and I have a plan to put to you."

Tommy sat down again, not taking his eyes off his younger sister.  

"You're working yourself into the ground, Tommy, and quite frankly we can't afford for you to be ill, so you need to get some more rest." The man in question opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off immediately by Y/N. "I want you to give up a couple of your jobs – some of them only pay a pittance, whilst my wage alone would cover that and a little more. I want you to put more time and energy into building up our Dad's business. I've got this feeling that it could become so much more, and you're the one that will make it happen, Tommy, I just know it!"

The second eldest Shelby brother sighed, his head falling heavily into his hands. He had to admit, Y/N's plan sounded incredibly tempting. But still, doubts invaded his thoughts, namely his concerns over his sister working in the Garrison of all places and the question of what if it all failed? What if they ended up in a worse position than they were in now?  

With two words from Y/N, however, he was convinced: "Trust me."

"Fine. We'll give it a go on one condition – if any of those fuckers at the pub ever, and I mean ever, give you any bother whatsoever, you tell me straight away. Alright?"

Y/N smiled softly at her brother, pleased with the outcome of their conversation. "Alright," she whispered in agreement, reaching over to grab his hand.

"Thank you, Y/N." Tommy's voice broke through the silence, his sincerity as clear as day.

"We're going to be alright, Tom. One day, we won't have to worry about everyone being safe and warm in their beds. It might take some time, but we'll get there eventually."

Tommy nodded, almost imperceptibly, before slowly getting up to make his way to his own bed, only stopping to place a gentle kiss to his sister's forehead.

All they could do now was pray that Y/N would be right once again.

***

About a year later, their prayers were beginning to be answered.

Business at the betting shop was flourishing, and the Shelby's were gaining more respect by the day. It was all illegal, of course, but all that mattered to Tommy and Y/N was that enough money was rolling in to look after the family.

As Christmas drew nearer, their house was beginning to feel more like a home again for the first time since their mother passed. Fires roared in the hearth at night, they had finally been able to make the repairs that the house so desperately needed, and the family seemed to be happy.  

The future looked brighter for the Shelby clan, and it was a sight that Y/N was overjoyed to have before her. Her plan had worked, the dark circles beneath Tommy's eyes were melting away and her Christmas present for him was finally ready.

Despite Tommy's arguments that she didn't need to stay on at the Garrison anymore, Y/N had decided to keep her job there. Surprisingly, she'd discovered that she was rather good at bar work and had been immensely satisfied when her brothers had entered the pub on one of their 'check-ups' on her to witness her chucking a couple of drunks out onto the street by the scruffs of their neck. Y/N liked earning her own money, rather than relying on Tommy, and it meant that no questions were asked about how she was spending it.

Most of her wages had gone towards Tommy's present, and Y/N could only hope that he liked it. The closer and closer that it got to the big day, the more Y/N began to doubt it. But she'd put too much work into it to turn back now.

She had decided against leaving it under the tree, not wanting anyone to be ridiculed for it, and instead kept it a secret in her room. So, on the night of the 25th, Y/N padded down the stairs to meet Tommy alone in the parlour.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now." Tommy was smiling up at her from his seat on the sofa.

"You know I'm always too excited at Christmas to get much sleep." Her brother rolled his eyes fondly at Y/N's reminder. "Anyway, I have one more present to give out."

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion. "But we all opened your presents earlier, Y/N/N?"

"Yes, yes, I know – you don't need to make this any more embarrassing for me than it already is!."

The man in question chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

Y/N sat down next to her brother, and handed him the carefully wrapped package. "Happy Christmas, Tommy," she said, gently. As he began to open it, Y/N's nervous rambling automatically began. "Now, if you don't like it, just tell me. I won't be offended! I can find something else to do with it. It's not really your colours, now I think about it, and - "

"Y/N do you want me to open this or not?" Tommy snapped, but his eyes were full of fondness for his younger sister.

"Yes," Y/N replied, meekly.

Tommy pulled away the last of the wrapping to find a thick patchwork blanket, which was clearly handmade. Speechless at the thought and care put into the gift, he asked the only question that was running through his head:  "Why?"

"I wanted to give you something special to say thank you for everything you've done for us since Mum died. Also, I'm not stupid, you know." At Tommy's confused expression, Y/N elaborated. "Nearly every morning before we got the house fixed up, I used to wake up with double the amount of blankets on top of me compared to how many I went to bed with. Your blankets, Tommy, when we barely had enough to share between us all in the first place. So I wanted to make you one myself that is yours and yours alone.

"You said to me once that we had nowhere to sleep at night that was safe and warm, but you created that place for us, for me. I know we've got plenty of blankets in the house now, but I just wanted to try and give you that same feeling of comfort that you gave to me." She stopped talking at that, suddenly aware of how long she had been going on for.

Tommy held the warm fabric in his hands, his thumb tracing the messy stitching which held each patch together, trying to blink away the tears glazing his eyes. "I love it, sweetheart. Thank you."

A relieved smile lit Y/N's face, but it was quickly replaced by a loud yawn. She gently rested her head on Tommy's shoulder as she curled her legs up on the sofa, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Happy Christmas, Tom," Y/N mumbled sleepily.

"Happy Christmas, Y/N/N," Tommy replied with a smile.

Moments later, Y/N's breathing had evened out and she had fallen into a deep slumber. Tommy's eyes flitted between her sleeping form and the beautiful blanket on his knee.

Maybe he could share his blanket with his sister just one more time...

[imaginesupply]

Homecoming - Chapter Seven

(Gif's not mine.)

I am so sorry for only posting this chapter when Christmas is already over. I lost my initial draft and it was difficult to find time for writing since this season means lots of family time for me.

Anyway, I hope you'll still enjoy this last chapter. Previous chapters can be found on my Masterlist, just follow the link.

Chapter Seven 

Chapter warnings: Smut (mild), alcohol consumption (very mild). I think that’s it.

Ada grinned to herself as she slid under the white cotton bedcovers. It wasn't every day that she woke up before the Captain and she intended to make the most of it.

Kneeling on the mattress between his outstretched legs, she bent forward and licked the underside of his proud morning erection, from the base to the soft, pink glans where she made sure to trace the small slit. Sy's hips bucked up and his cock twitched in response, a soft moan escaping his parted lips, but he didn’t wake up just yet. Ada pouted for a moment - she wasn't feeling too patient this morning, not after the dream she had had.

This time, she grabbed his erection firmly at its base and proceeded to take him as deeply in her mouth and throat as her gag reflex would allow, hollowing her cheeks and humming softly.

His reaction was instant. His body went rigid and Sy sat up at once, a glazed look on his soft blue eyes. "Fuck, Ada!" He cursed loudly, carding a hand through his hair as he lifted the covers to look underneath.

His wife merely hummed around his cock, looking up at him with innocent eyes. Sy moved a hand to her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb and feeling the outline of his cock inside her mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. "Come up here, I want to kiss you," he rasped, surprising himself with his own words when her mouth felt so heavenly around him.

Ada pulled her head back with a slight pop and scooted forward, straddling his strong thighs. They shared a kiss before her lips moved to hover by the shell of his ear. "Happy three-year anniversary of our first meeting," she whispered smugly. No, she had not forgotten.

Sy laughed, draping one large hand over the back of her neck and pulling her closer to him, her wet folds sliding over his cock in the process and making them both freeze for a second, caught up in the sensation. "Guess I hit the Jackpot three years ago."

Ada chuckled and began to roll her hips against his. The friction felt too good on her clit to stop. "Pity you didn't hit the Jackpot in Vegas," she teased lightly, her hand moving to his shoulder for balance as she raised herself on her knees before slowly impaling herself on his cock. Ada gasped quietly as Sy buried a moan against her neck, his beard grazing her skin.

"If memory serves, I did hit the Jackpot in Vegas when I married you," he murmured.

Ada laughed lightly, her walls rhythmically clenching around his cock. "Stop being so sweet and fuck me already."

For all his natural authority, the Captain did know how to follow an order, especially when it came from his wife. With her holding on to his shoulders for leverage as she rode him, Sy found his head nuzzling her cleavage, his beard leaving the skin of her breasts raw and sensitive. Neither seemed to mind.

All too soon, Sy lost his patience and wrapped an arm around his wife's middle. He began a punishing pace, making her cry out in the mixture of pain and sweet rapture.

The doorbell rang just as they were catching their breaths, still dizzy with bliss. Sy groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. "Is this becoming a trend now?!"

Ada laughed at his reaction, disentangling herself from him. "So, it seems," she chuckled. "Go see who it is."

Sy huffed next to her. "Why should I be the one going?" After all, he had been the one who had let Tom in when he had come over for dinner.

Cocking a brow at him, Ada's voice turned mischievous. "I don't mind getting the door. But I'll go naked with your cum running down my inner thighs."

He glared at her dumbfounded, but nothing indicated that she was joking. With a sigh, Sy got off the bed and put on a pair boxer briefs, pointing an accusatory finger at her as he walked out of their bedroom. "That shit's not funny."

°°°

Ada picked up the small envelope that came attached to the wicket basket that had been delivered by a deli, a smile spreading on her face as she read the message.

"It's from Tom," she announced. "He wishes us a merry and delicious Christmas."

“Why is it that anytime the bell rings at the worst moment, Tom’s always implicated.” Still, Sy looked impressed as he started taking out the various foods from the basket. There was all you needed for a copious brunch and even a cold bottle of champagne and orange juice to make mimosas.

Ada got up from bed to grab the plastic goblets where they kept their toothbrushes in from the bathroom. Drinking mimosas in those would be a first but she really didn't want to walk downstairs. When she got back in the bedroom, Sy was already munching on a warm cinnamon roll. "What did we get Tom for Christmas?" He asked with his mouth full.

Ada rolled her eyes, climbing back on the bed. "We," she said, stressing out the word as she looked pointedly at her husband, "gave him a perfectly preserved 1925 Underwood typewriter and had it delivered to his parents' house in Wiltshire two weeks ago already."

Sy swallowed the rest of the pastry. "We are very good and generous friends, indeed," he jested, trying to imitate Tom's British accent.

They ate and drank lazily in bed. With a full belly, Ada had half a thought to take a nap – she had exerted herself this morning after all - but it was noon already and she still had lots to do.

"What time does your mom want us over?"

"Seven o'clock is the official time but she's probably expecting us much earlier to help with the cooking and the baking."

Ada bit her lip. Sy wasn't going to like this. "I won't be able to make it before seven. I've got errands to run."

Sy sighed in response. "If you want to avoid them because of the sex tape thing-" He was interrupted when she hit him with the pillow.

"It's not about that but thank you very much for reminding me of it right when I had finally managed to stop thinking about it." She laughed, gulping down the rest of her mimosa to help with the remaining mortification.  

Leaning forward to kiss her, Sy stopped just before their lips could touch. "I expect you at seven o'clock at the latest, Mrs. Syverson." He warned before finally landing a peck on her lips. "And if that errand of yours is to find me a gift, I wouldn't mind a new desk chair to play the console."

Ada barked a laugh. "Did you really think I would leave it until Christmas Eve to get your gift? Let me tell you, Sy, I got you the ultimate present."

He cocked an eyebrow. Was that a challenge? After all, he had stayed up very late three nights in a row to organize her gift. After all the care packages she had put so much thought in while he was away, Sy really intended to surprise her. "Whatever it is, I'm sure yours won't beat mine, darlin'."

She looked pensive for a second and then stretched out her hand, smirking. "Wanna bet on it?"

Sy chuckled, throwing back his head against the pillow before finally nodding. "As you wish, darlin'. May the most thoughtful gift win."

°°°

The airport had always felt like a real maze to her and the unusual hordes of people really weren't helping. Apparently, a snowstorm had taken over the entire East coast and tons of flights had been either cancelled or delayed.

Ada groaned as she tried to find a path between the crowds. This would have been so much easier if Sy had been there with her - people had a tendency to naturally move out of his way. Eventually, Ada gave up and took off her high heels, deciding to walk barefoot instead. She was already dressed for the Christmas Eve dinner since she knew she'd be cutting it short and it was unlikely she'd have time to get changed later.

When her phone rang, she fished it out of her pocket and took the call without looking at the screen, cursing under her breath. If she didn’t get to the counter in time before it closed, her gift would fall through. "Yes?"

There were some rushed whispers from the other end of the line, but she couldn't make out a single word with the loud ambient noise. "I can't hear you."

"Please tell me you're not leaving! On Christmas of all days!"

Ada stopped in her tracks, a frown taking over her face. What the fuck was going on? "Madie, calm down. I'm not going anywhere."

"Then why are you at the airport?!" Madie retorted, her voice a stressed whisper.

"How do you even know I'm -" Right. She had forgotten she'd given her sister-in-law the ability to track her phone a few years ago when she was still new to the city and afraid of getting lost somewhere. "Never mind." Ada interrupted, shaking her head. "Look, I will be there tonight. I am simply running a little late. Is Sy okay?"

"I - He - Urgh!" Madie groaned in frustration through the phone. "He's in the kitchen with mom, they're making cookies. Sy was worried about you because he thought you would have been here by now. Something about it not taking ages to buy a desk chair."

"Did you tell him where I was?" Ada asked, cutting off her sister-in-law. She had finally arrived at the right counter.

"No! God, no! I didn't want to worry him."

"Good. Don't tell him. I'll be there in two hours, give or take."

"Two hours?! Ada no-"

She had already hung up and slid her phone back in her pocket. Plastering the biggest smile on her face, Ada walked up to the lady at the counter. "Hello. I'm Ada Syverson. Please forgive me for being late."

°°°

The quick stop at the store had been hell. Why there were still so many doing their Christmas shopping on the 24th at six in the afternoon, was beyond her. Admittedly, she was there as well but it was simply because Sy would have found it if she had purchased it sooner. Frantically, Ada rubbed her hands over her dress and coat, trying to remove as she waited for someone to open the door.

Helen’s house appeared to have been fully decorated for the season. Luke and Elaine excitedly grabbed Ada hands and dragged her inside before she could even remove her thin coat, proud to show her the table they had helped decorate. It was a nice, festive table indeed, and Ada decided not to point out that cutlery was put in the wrong order. Apparently, her parents were the only ones absolutely pedantic about that.

Sy came running to her with a plate of cookies in his hand. "I made them!" He announced, showing off the Christmas treats as if they were precious jewels.

Before Ada could grab one, Madie appeared behind him, playfully slapping the back of his head. "He might have made the cookies, but I decorated them. I want credit for my work."

Ada rolled her eyes at their siblings’ antics and picked up a cookie, humming appreciatively just to elicit a proud grin from her husband. The fact that they tasted this good didn’t leave a doubt that Helen has kept a close eye on him.

"You made it on time after all, darlin'," Sy pointed out.

Ada ran her tongue over her lips, catching the crumbles. "There was not much traffic," she replied, electing not to mention her excessive speeding.

Dinner was a cheerful affair. Phil mostly kept them entertained with stories of dumb, sometimes rude, customers from the hardware store. When dessert eventually rolled around, Helen thanked everyone for being there, tearing up. It was the first time in years that the family was fully reunited for Christmas and she wished her late husband could have been there with them.

When it got to midnight, Ada learned that the Syversons had a special Santa Claus conception that they taught the kids: Santa did exist, but he only brought gifts to less fortunate children whose families were unable to provide presents for Christmas. If a child was lucky enough that their family could afford gifts, they each had to donate a present to a charity. Joshua had accompanied Elaine and Luke to do so this morning.

They had long finished exchanging gifts and the kids were already playing with their new toys, yet Ada was still going over the binder on her lap, tears in her eyes. Sy had planned this meticulously. He had even made sure she got two weeks off in February and that they would have the same car waiting for them in Vegas so they could do their West coast road trip in the Camaro they had driven to Vegas the first time. 1811km from Las Vegas to Seattle – she couldn’t wait!

She was so enthralled by her gift, she hardly even noticed Sy squeezing her shoulders or Josh calling her name. "I'm sorry, what?" Ada blurted out, jumping up when Sy decided to tickle her to finally get her attention.

"I was asking whether you'd forgotten to get Jack something?" Her brother-in-law teased gently, making her realize that everyone had already exchanged gifts and she hadn't even noticed.

Ada laughed. "I didn't forget. It... It's just not something I could give him here," she replied, attempting to stay vague but it sent the wrong message and she saw Madie chuckle, looking away with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, it's something naughty, then?" Josh asked playfully and Ada swore she could almost physically feel the daggers Helen was staring at her. First, the sex tape and now this, she was slowly getting afraid of what his family would think of her at this rate.

Sy cut off the teasing with a sharp and stern 'hey' in Josh's direction who immediately raised his hands in defeat, much to his Luke's amusement.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Sy leant down over Ada’s shoulders and whispered in her ear, smirking. "Is it? Something naughty, I mean."

Ada turned back at once, still sitting on the floor between his legs. Sy had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. "Not everything has to be naughty, you know," she chided light-heartedly, but Sy only laughed, until she pinched his thigh.

"Ada, will you come help me with the dishes?" Helen called from the other side of the room, startling her.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Ada silently pleaded Sy for help. The kitchen wasn't a big enough room for both Helen and her to come out alive. Yet, instead of getting her out of this, like any good husband would – might she add – Sy merely gave her an equally encouraging and bemused look.

Sighing, Ada got up on her feet and followed her mother-in-law into the kitchen. She grabbed a rag and awkwardly stood by the sink, waiting for Helen to hand her the clean dishes. They worked in silence, Ada carefully drying off the glasses, lest she have the bad luck of breaking something.

"I wanted to apologize," Helen said out of the blue.

Ada was caught by surprise. "What?" She blurted out before composing herself and shaking her head. "Excuse me, what?"

Helen sighed, drying her hands before turning to her. "I am sorry, Ada. For the way I've treated you."

"Oh." She gasped. Miracles did happen on Christmas then. Ada wasn't sure what to say. "It's okay."

The older woman frowned at her reaction. "Don't you want to know the reason?" Ada shrugged slightly. She was happy enough with the apology as it was. "I disliked you from the first moment because you were the reason my Jack missed Christmas with the family three years ago. It was the first time he was home for the holidays since he had been deployed."

Ada nodded slowly. Well, she could understand that. "Then my late husband slowly managed to convince me to give you a chance. He said that Jack wouldn't just marry any random girl," Helen paused, smiling briefly. "Well, on your first birthday here in Austin, I came by your house to drop off a gift and ask if maybe you wanted to go out for dinner. Once I got there, I saw you were already having dinner with someone else. A man. It looked like you were fun, and I naturally, perhaps foolishly, assumed the worst."

Ada opened her mouth, wanting to say that it was just Tom, but Helen silenced her with a wave of her hand. The woman had authority, it ran in the family apparently "A few weeks later, I saw you at the movies with the same man. That only confirmed my suspicions. I never told anyone, least of all Jack, because I didn't want to see him hurt, especially while he was still in Iraq but I was never able to move away from that."

"The man you saw me with is Tom. He's a good friend-,” Ada quickly explained as soon as her mother-in-law had finished talking.

Helen smiled, nodding softly. "Jack told me about Tom today. Said you three had dinner together, that Tom a kind man, and that the two of you were just friends."

"Well, it's true," she chipped in quickly.

"I believe you." Helen reassured Ada with a squeeze to her shoulder before heading back to the living room where the family was gathered.

Ada remained in the kitchen for a few seconds more, surprised by the turn of events but just as thankful.

°°°

"Nervous?" Sy inquired in the car, quickly glancing at her before moving his eyes back to the road.

Her brows furrowed. "What? Why would I be nervous?"

"You're biting your nails and checking your phone every few seconds." Sy told her, just as smug smile started taking over his face. "If it's about the gift, don't worry, darlin’. I know you couldn't possibly come up with a better gift than the one gave you."

Ada scoffed indignantly. "Let's see if your smugness remains once you see her."

"Her?" Sy asked just as she groaned at herself. Why had she let that slip? He laughed heartedly. "Darlin', Rihanna could be waiting for us at home for a private concert and it still wouldn't top my gift."

It was Ada's turn to laugh. "Perhaps not, but I'd definitely top her!"

°°°

“So, where is it?” Sy inquired as soon as they had made it through the threshold, looking around the ground floor to see if there was something new or unusual.

Even Ada was surprised nothing looked amiss. Her friend, Lily, also a volunteer from the animal shelter and who did not celebrate Christmas, had stayed over most of the evening and miraculously managed to keep the house intact. “Your present is in the study upstairs.” She told Sy, watching bemused as he quickly discarded his shoes to head upstairs.

“If you did get me a desk chair after all, I’ll kill you for all this suspense,” he threatened her playfully, landing a small kiss on her cheek before rushing up the stairs.

With a knowing smile, Ada leaned against the wall, waiting for Sy to open the door. Five seconds later, her husband’s excited voice reached her ears.

“Aika!”

The German Shepherd barked cheerfully in response. Despite the carpet flooring, she could hear the pitty-patter of the dog’s paws on the floor. Yes, they had both aced the challenge, Ada mused as she hung up her coat and took off her shoes. She grinned, shaking her head softly with amusement when she listened to Sy giving Aika the grand tour of the house upstairs.

"This is the bathroom. As you can smell, it ain't stinky like in Baqubah."

"Bedroom here. If you're real nice to mama, she might let you sleep here."

"The walk-in closet. Please don't come here a lot because you’ll get fur everywhere."

She looked up once she sensed them coming closer in the hallway upstairs. As soon as they appeared on the stairs, Ada started laughing at the sight. Sy was caring the German Shepherd in his arm like he would a toddler and Aika really seemed to be enjoying it.

"Be careful with the stairs, it's slippery 'cause of the varnish," Sy told the dog very seriously, sporting an authoritative frown before he caught sight of wife and smiled broadly, almost skipping over the last few steps.

"This is your mama," Sy introduced her, bringing the dog close enough to her face so that Aika could lick her cheek. Ada grimaced, making Sy scoff. "She's a bit uppity, but she's the best," he playfully whispered into the dog’s ear, as if sharing a great secret.

“Aika and I got acquainted in the car when I drove us home from the airport,” she told him, petting the dog’s snuff.

Sy finally set Aika down and she promptly ran off, exploring the ground floor and more specifically, the couch.

"I never thought you'd let me get a dog," Sy admitted, the grin still not leaving his face even as he leant down to kiss his wife. "Didn't even think you liked them."

Ada pulled back, looking offended. "I literally volunteer at the animal shelter weekly!"

"I know, darlin'. Just thought you would rather get a cat or a parrot, or something more Ada-ish."

She chuckled. Truth was she was still keen on getting a cat but now she'd have to find one that would get on with Aika.

Something weird in her peripheral vision caught her attention now that the lights were on, making her turn her head. "Is her fur... stained green?" It was the first time she’d had a good look at the dog under a bright light.

Sy laughed, clasping her shoulders. "Yes. Green dog means good dog. It’s a long story."

°°°

This is it. I hope you enjoyed the series. Thank you for reading!

I wish you a very happy New Year!

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​ @rn7rocks​