#F-Pace Images and wallpapers

[sugatrapp]

「 W a f f l e s 」

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Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You wanted to take a picture with Carmy, but he didn’t take it seriously. You threatened to post the failed pictures on Instagram, but then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual Themes ~ Spanking ~ Food Play ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader ~ just an overall playful and goofy mood with a little spice

A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I figured why should I be the only one to enjoy today? Well, you’ll probably enjoy it more than me since I have classes 🙃 but still hope you like the story!

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

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Being around Carmen felt as natural as breathing. From the moment you met, you knew right away there was no one else you’d rather give your heart to. He made you laugh even when he wasn’t trying, he remembered the most minuscule details about you and what you liked, and he was always there when you needed him. You could never bother me. ‘M only a call or text away, he’d remind you for the fortieth time after you admitted to not wanting to add to his stress from work. No one could ever dream of asking for a better boyfriend.

Except whenever you tried to take pictures with him.

It had been ten minutes since you asked him to take a picture with you for your socials. Saving memories was your second favorite part of making them, so it was inevitable that you’d ask him. But he was in an especially playful mood that day. The smile he flashed at the camera was overly wide and a bit creepy if you looked long enough. With a pout, you shoved him away while he laughed.

“You’re such a jag off.”

He held a hand over his mouth to calm himself down to no avail. “Hey, I smiled didn’t I?”

“Like a serial killer.”

He shrugged and kissed your forehead as an apology. As you scrolled through the handful of failed images, a lightbulb flicked on over your head.

“I don’t even care, I’m still gonna post them.”

“No you’re not.”

When he saw the blank expression on your face, he reached for the phone only for you to hold it out of his grasp. You both made eye contact. A glint he knew all too well flashed behind your eyes. A glint that meant you were going to be a bratty pain in the ass. He reacted a second too slow as your form dodged his arms and took off running up the stairs. He rushed after you, but you had already shut and locked yourself in the bedroom. He banged on the door.

“Babe open the door! You better not post those.”

“Or what Carmen?” You asked, putting emphasis on his name.

“I’ll sue.”

You chuckled. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in court then.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his curls while pacing. What to do, what to do? After a moment, an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. He made sure to get nice and close to the area of the door where he knew you were standing.

“I’ll spank you.”

There was dead silence for a while before you spoke in a breathless whisper.

“Promise?”

He hummed in agreement. “Just give me your phone and you can have what’s behind door number one.”

“What’s the catch?”

You knew him too well.

“You take however many I feel you deserve—“ you made a sound of protest, “but I’ll sweeten the deal with some waffles.”

You thought over his proposal, but the throbbing between your legs had already decided. The lock clicked and the door swung open. You huffed as you handed over your phone. He deleted all but one of the photos, using it to set your wallpaper to his creepy smile before pocketing the phone. You’d see his surprise later.

You were bouncing your leg the entire time he was preparing the waffles. Carmy was awfully heavy handed when it came to punishments. Just a few weeks ago when he caught your hand between your legs without permission, you thought he was in a good mood helping you find your release. But then he kept going and going until you were too sore and sensitive to handle him even breathing on your skin.

A shiver ran up your spine as the steaming stack of waffles was placed on the island in front of you. While you were zoned out, he had dressed them up with whipped cream and berries, topping it off with buttermilk syrup. You were definitely not going to be able to sit down properly for a while.

“You wanna eat ‘em now or take ‘em with you?”

“With me,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t go easy on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You frowned as he chuckled, giving you one last nicety of a kiss at your temple before he got down to business.

“Bedroom in three. Don’t be late.”

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He was sitting at the edge of the bed when you entered. Beside him was a can of whipped cream. He patted his leg with a smirk on his face.

You took a deep breath before walking over, carefully lying across his lap with your waffles. You had sliced them into smaller pieces downstairs to make it easier. He wasted no time, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them off. You flinched as he gave you a light playful swat, laughing.

“I haven’t done anything yet, baby, relax.”

Easy for him to say. You knew he was lulling you into a false sense of security as he caressed your bare bottom, but you couldn’t help but melt, taking a bite of the waffles. It was heavenly, all fluffy and sweet, bright flavors exploding in your—

Smack!

You yelped as his hand came down hard on your right cheek.

“Count,” he demanded.

“O-One chef.”

“Good.”

Another on the right. Two chef. Three chef. Four. It wasn’t until eight when he switched to the left. It was because the right cheek was slightly smaller than the other. You were insecure about it at first, but he made sure to give it equal attention in any other case. But in this case, it didn’t help.

Tears streamed down your face at eleven, shoving more waffle in your mouth to mask your noises. His hand left your hot skin for a moment and you braced for another hit only to be met with a cold spray of whipped cream. He smeared the cream over your sore bottom, bending over to lick it off.

You mewled, forcing yourself to remain still as he tongued you down, open mouth kisses getting awful close to your desperate core. Of course he pretended not to notice, avoiding it like the plague yet gripping your inner thigh mere inches away.

“Carmy,” you moaned.

His hum vibrated over your skin.

“Please…”

Smack! You had fallen for it again.

“Was trying t’ give you a break but if you insist.”

You gritted your teeth, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. Another five hits later and the whipped cream was back. You sighed and pushed back into his roaming hand.

“Taste so good baby,” he moaned.

You stabbed another piece of waffle with your fork, twisting a bit to offer it to him. He closed his mouth around it, expression blissful as he took in the flavors. He plucked a strawberry from the plate, dipping it into the whipped cream still on your ass. You squirmed in place, beyond turned on and uncomfortable at being in the same position for so long.

Smack!

“You gonna be good or am I gonna have to add another one?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be good for you.” Then you sweetened the deal with wide, albeit watery, puppy eyes.

He took another fruit from the plate and popped it in his mouth. “Still got two more.”

You whined, on the verge of kicking your legs in protest until another smack halted you in your tracks.

“Three more.”

You bit your tongue and nodded. Eventually twenty-two rolled around and you sighed in relief. Your waffles were all gone, a few pieces of fruit left behind. You hissed as he ran his hands over your sore cheeks, no doubt bruised.

“Did so well for me baby. I think you deserve a little treat.”

Your eyes lit up. “You mean the waffles weren’t it?”

“I mean, if you don’t want it—“

“No!” You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking the side of his face. “I want it.”

He stood up, hands falling to the button of his jeans. You watched with hungry eyes as his pants and boxers fell to his ankles, revealing his engorged cock. The tip was an angry red, a bead of precum just begging to be licked off. As if it wasn’t enough, he sprayed a strip of whipped cream down the length.

“Think you can handle it?” He teased, slowly stroking himself and smearing the cream.

“Oh I know I can Berzatto.”

“Then c’mere and show me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

[forcinduct]

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[thesunshinebunny]

Hello! May I please request N/SFW headcanons of Lilia, Rook, Riddle, and Epel dating an F!MC who likes being face fucked and cummed on? I know it sounds very dirty, and you don't have to do it, but thank you very much!!!❤❤❤❤❤❤

Ohhh shiiiit, daaaaamn that's graphic. I have never clung to a computer so much when reading an order like this, as I read it I got closer and closer to the monitor and a mischievous smile was forming on my face.

Uffffffff, of course I can. Buckle up, because it's time for +18

Lilia

Mama bear Lilia here is more than in.

Bring him the papers, conditions and clauses; don't forget the rules and limits, Lilia wants to know everything. EVERYTHING.

I firmly believe that fucking with Lilia would be a unique experience. The gentleman here has lived hundreds of years and must surely have a few tricks up his sleeve.

Every night, or day, or afternoon, or when he is up to have you in his arms, it's a blow up to your head.

And now with what you just said …… UUUUH BABY, you just turned at a point of no return.

With Lilia, everything is a yes, you have to experience everything at least once in your life. A blowjob may have happened before, but not with the intensity in which you said it.

Lilia couldn't help but hide his enthusiasm all day, he even got to worry and raise suspicions among his dorm students. Our little one here was feeling like a child at Christmas, eager to unwrap his present.

When the moment of truth arrived… Lilia was a bloody monster.

From the start, he knew exactly how to handle you, how to guide your pretty head from the bottom up, preventing you from breathing normally multiple times.

And let's not even talk about the amount of saliva you left as a sign of your beautiful work towards his cock. Yes, Lilia was a fucking sadist.

“Com’on sweetheart, I know you can do better than that. Show me how much you like to be facefuck, m’yeah? "

Anyway, as much as he loves to see your face covered in his cum, Lilia is a 1000/10 in aftercare. You would not spend two minutes with your face covered that Lilia is already wiping a wet cloth over your skin.

May o may not start a makeout session with your mouth full of cum.

Rook

Uh, ma'am, I hope you're prepared to be photographed because I think… Rook just found a very beautiful image.

We know that Rook is a gentleman, so he wouldn't go straight to shove his cock into your mouth without asking your permission first.

Of the four, I think he would be the kindest at all times.

Asking if he is "doing it right?" "Is the speed correct?" "You like it?" and those things.

I also think that, if you have a praise kink, being with this mf would rise it to 1000000%

I'm not joking, all the time telling everything that he sees that it's beautiful in it's essence and form ... imagine listening to it every second of that moment.

“You’re doing it so well, beautiful, taking me so so good. You like this, don't cha? Yeah you do, my sweet little girl "

Is it hot in here or is just me?

Occasionally, Rook would get out of hand a bit, but in the end, it's what you wants right? Let him be a brute by fucking your mouth until you can't breathe.

I recommend that you hide the camera from him, because I am very sure that he would take thousands of photos every time his cum paints your face beautifully. Not because he's going to paste it behind the wallpaper in his room, no no, simply to admire them and put them in an exclusive folder for that type of photos.

Riddle

I don't think I'm the only one who would think that Riddle would be stopped at such a statement.

Let's see, I bet all my valuables that the poor man has never dated a girl in his life (thanks to his mother) and to have such a revelation of his first romance ... ufff, holly mother, the little one has a lot ahead of him.

Riddle might be a bit confrontational at first, let's also assume it would be his first time doing the do, so I don't see him getting into those kinks so early.

Already with months evolving in this "quiet relationship", one long night you brought up the subject again and Riddle gave a somewhat hesitant yes, but as all mothers say: "if you don't try it, you won't know if you like it"

Ohhhhhh, shit, Riddle had never moaned like tonight. Poor Trey heard all the wobble, please stop his suffering

At first, Riddle didn't really know what to do, where to put his hands, when to increase speed, etc.

You had to guide him, bringing his hands to your head, indicating that he could hold you at any time and when he felt that he needed more, that he could apply more pressure and move your head as he preferred.

What started with a slow pace ended with your head bobbing up and down awkwardly, but intensely, on his cock.

"Wait, Darling, I'm-I'm gonna cum"

Did Riddle turn your head away? No. Did you walk away alone? Also no.

Riddle came half in your mouth and half in your face, and let me tell you, your expression… UUUUUUFFFF, it was worth every fucking minute of that roller coaster.

See your face covered with some jets falling towards your chin and mixing with your saliva, while you breathed aggressively through your mouth, letting to the naked eye see his cum slide down your tongue ...

Yes, new kink unlocked.

In the same way, that beautiful intercourse is not a daily bread. Riddle would use this kink as a method of discipline, improving his movements each time, to the point of making you cry.

Riddle definitely loves your fucked face.

Epel

Pikachu shook face.

Much like Riddle's reaction but not to the degree of cardiac arrest.

Yes, Epel was shook, but we all know that Epel has a bit of audacity, so let him process your statement for a few minutes.

When the waters are calm, the coast is clean to try those tastes of yours.

Epel may be a bit nervous at first, but I think that with communication and a few "classes" you can reach a result that benefits both of you.

He would use your mouth as an anti-stress method. You know, when exams time comes around and you're littered with books and little time… well, instead of a slime ball to de-stress, Epel has you.

A good session of de-stressing sex can't start without first fucking your mouth like there's no tomorrow.

Your throat spasming every time the tip of his cock touched the end, your dedication trying to take it to the end before releasing and taking little breaths, then trying again and again.

The way your hands were placed on Epel's hip looking for support, or sometimes placed at your side, preventing you from touching him.

Your eyes filling with tears at the intensity in which your head was used as a toy, your lips swollen and a small trace of saliva falling down your chin to the ground.

If that's not an image that can fix a bad day, I don't know what it is.

“You like when I manhandle you like this, don't you? 'course you like it, you like when I fuck your litle mouth like the whore you are "

It may be a bit rough, but you both get pleasure from it, so a win-win.

[framecaught]

[S] Cascade After the Death of Flash

Most of us familiar with Homestuck are familiar with [S] Cascade. This seminal flash animation concludes Homestuck’s fifth act and is still considered by many fans the most important, climactic animation in the comic (even ahead of its successors [S] GAME OVER and [S] Collide).

Many of us may also be familiar with the extraordinary circumstances of the animation’s release. A user called Vivi on the now-defunct MSPA Forums made a commemorative comic documenting the occasion, which, to my view, really captures the essence of the release-mythos. In short: On October 25th, 2011, Homestuck updated after a year-long hiatus with a thirteen-minute flash called [S] Cascade. As fans raced to watch it, the influx of pageviews crashed Newgrounds, the site where the flash was hosted. Hussie temporarily uploaded the flash to megaupload.com. Megaupload.com crashed. The Homestuck website crashed; the Homestuck forum crashed; livestream.com crashed as fans who had “gotten in” tried to stream the video; and, finally, the Homestuck fandom crashed Twitter. [1]

Today, it is hard to imagine Homestuck fans crashing Twitter. Back in 2011, Twitter was a lot smaller, and Homestuck was a lot bigger. But it wasn’t just the long year of building anticipation and the mad scramble to watch the flash which cemented [S] Cascade as one of Homestuck’s most iconic pages. The Flash itself is aesthetically ambitious beyond any previous flash in the comic [2]. Not only does it combine detailed illustrations contributed by fan collaborators with an absolutely fire soundtrack; it manipulates the traditional Homestuck “panel” in a completely unique way. 

Among the various stunning moments in the flash, I find Bec Noir’s dramatic release of the red miles one of the most memorable. The YouTuber Precision F-Strike captures my same reaction when I watched [S] Cascade for the first time in this video around 1:20, exclaiming: “My screen is getting bigger! My screen is getting bigger!!” What made this “expanding panel” trick so dazzling upon my first watch? The release of the red miles marks the first instance in which [S] Cascade modifies the traditional size of the Homestuck panel. By no means does it mark the first time the comic as a whole has deviated from its own standard panel size; elongated panels, multiple panels, and links-to-panels have all been regular features of the comic up to this point. However, [S] Cascade is the first page to modify the panel size during a Flash sequence, changing in motion. This novelty, combined with the surprise of the effect, sets the reader up to expect a flash of epic proportions—and [S] Cascade delivers.

After expanding for the red miles, the panel never quite shrinks down to its original size. For the rest of the animation, the plot unfolds within an extended panel-space ripe for dramatic exploitation. At 2:53 the panel shrinks back down to show Bec Noir’s journey to post-reckoning earth, then grows again to get back into the action. At 4:22 it shrinks and breaks into multiple panels to illustrate Bec Noir wreaking destruction in the troll’s session. The proliferation of these moving rectangles mimics a film reel, reminding us that we have technically already seen these events, but underscoring their importance as a conglomeration of memories for the trolls. 

Transitioning to the human sessions’ Derse at 4:38, the panel blows up again to its traditional size and adopts an exterior “wallpaper.” This “wallpaper”, as I’ll call it, shifts with the content of the Flash for the next few minutes. It shows the exterior of Derse as Rose and Dave fly through, then it takes on the red and yellow colors of the quest beds; the black and white colors of The Tumor; the red and blue colors of the “mass of two universes” device; and finally the fleur-de-lis pattern of the Felt mansion. During the sequence between Sn0wman and Slick, at 6:08 Slick’s bullet actually pushes out the corner of the traditional frame, extending it back into the full extended-panel space. Then again, during the climactic moment at 10:02, panels grow and shrink and replace others, flashing in time with the soundtrack, drawing the plotlines together and anticipating the finger-frame with which Jade creates the Fenestrated Plane. The animation finishes with John and Jade busting through the Fenestrated Plane, which cycles through the comic’s own panels, culminating the meta-referential panel distortion with this final act of “escaping” from and through the Homestuck panels themselves.

As a result of the extended panel-space established at the release of the red miles, we get to experience the majority of [S] Cascade’s action (and gorgeous artwork) on an enlarged canvas. Just as we go to the cinema to see movies on the “big screen,” Homestuck deploys its own big screen at the start of the flash. Then, all the growing and shrinking between segments contributes to the narrative flow of the flash. The “shrunk” portions leave room for the panel to blow up again once the next climax comes. I think the “wallpaper” effect employed mid-flash is especially effective, as it allows Hussie to continue utilizing the extended panel-space while keeping the frame small in advance of the Sn0wman’s death, at which point it expands again. It’s also important to note how Hussie manipulates our other preconceived expectations, aside from panel size, to enhance the animation’s drama. The website itself gets a special [S] Cascade color scheme and header. In the unfamiliar layout of this Cascade-ified website, readers prepare themselves for the best and the worst—then their expectations are thrown off balance again, for good measure, with the expansion of the panel and the big-screen execution of the flash. With all of this in mind, it’s easy to see how [S] Cascade generated such a massive response.

As you may be aware, as of January 2021 Adobe has discontinued its support for Flash Player, with all major web browsers following suit. This means it’s near impossible to run flash content on any normal computer, and it won’t be long before flash only exists in archival projects. Luckily, the new denizens of the Homestuck website have worked to keep all of the story intact despite the changing media landscape, with some interactive flash pages broken down into videos or screencaps and animations converted to embedded YouTube videos [3]. If you are interested in experiencing Homestuck’s flash content as originally released, a fantastic project called the Unofficial Homestuck Collection has worked to archive the entire comic in a custom browser which natively runs Flash (all you need is 4GB of space on your computer and some time for the assets to download). This archive has been invaluable for my art historical investigation into the comic [4].

As it stands, though—unless forced by a concerned friend to download The Unofficial Homestuck Collection browser—new readers to Homestuck can’t experience the Flash games and animations in their original format. The same goes for folks rereading the comic. In the case of [S] Cascade, significant losses must be mourned. The effect set off by the red miles (the surprise and novelty of your “screen getting bigger”) is hampered by the embedded YouTube format. When you open the [S] Cascade page, now, it presents you with a mid-flash thumbnail, a YouTube play button, and YouTube framing elements such as a watermark and title (pictured above). You can’t avoid already seeing the extended panel-space of the flash page with this new format. Even though the panels within the embed begin in their “shrunk” state and grow to fill out the video frame, the expansion can never be a surprise to the same degree it was in the original Flash format. Flash animations were unornamented by watermarks, titles, and scrubber bars. They were so indistinguishable from regular static panels and gifs in terms of size, image quality, and framing that this gag (pictured below) actually worked. The indistinguishable quality of flash animations from regular gif panels created the necessary environment for [S] Cascade to surprise us by suddenly growing and filling the screen. That drama is inevitably lost in the flash’s new format.

On the other hand, the YouTube format presents some obvious benefits for readers. For one thing, you can now scrub back and forth in the animation, pause it, and even see its timestamps. This is beneficial to any reader who wants to revisit key moments and enormously helpful for someone like me analyzing the animation in detail. I would argue that the inability to pause the animation in its original format contributed to its monumental quality—readers couldn’t pause to breathe, and the comic took merciless control over the pacing—but of course the inability to pause something is also terribly inconvenient. Furthermore, the video format solves an issue that plagued Homestuck readers (including myself) throughout the comic’s lifetime: it’s inaccessibility on mobile devices. Adobe Flash famously failed to transition into the world of mobile touch-screens after Steve Jobs decided not to support it on the iPhone, writing a letter denouncing the software for its errors [5]. With Flash no longer functioning, the reformatted pages in Homestuck are all compatible with mobile devices, meaning readers can now enjoy the comic while lying sideways in bed like we always dreamed. Among other considerations, Adobe Flash was a complete pain to work with [6] for many large-scale projects, and its technical limitations cannot be ignored. On the whole, the death of Flash speaks to a greater evolution in our 21st century media sphere—the growing importance of mobile browsing, the shift from web-hosted games to apps and game launchers, and the increasing “convergence” of platforms into all-purpose devices. While much of Homestuck’s impact and charm resulted from its innovative use of Flash, like the example I’ve given in [S] Cascade, the unique bubble of history in which Flash existed should be fondly remembered and effectively preserved as we continue to navigate the comic’s legacy. 

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Happy 4/13! If you liked this post, you can follow the blog on tumblr for updates or, if you don’t frequent tumblr, sign up for the mailing list to receive an email whenever I publish a new mini-essay!

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[1] I unfortunately can’t say I was around for the original [S] Cascade release (I started reading the comic about two years too late). However, even during the Gigapause, what I’ve called its “release mythos” was still widely retold. The events themselves are documented here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Cascade_(Homestuck). Thank you to @imploder for having saved Vivi’s comic on tumblr!

[2] Hussie wrote about the making of [S] Cascade on his tumblr, now archived here: https://wheals.github.io/tumblr/tumblr.html#about-eoa5-part-1. This gives some insight into the massive undertaking. Previously, the longest animation in Homestuck was [S] Descend, an animation which Hussie calls “Cascade Lite” in his author commentary in Homestuck Book 3. [S] Descend was the first animation to significantly incorporate multiple plotlines moving along at once. Hussie describes this narrative style as an “action-collage” (also in the Book 3 commentary). [S] Descend was also (to my recollection) the first time Hussie significantly incorporated assets from contributing artists into an animation, which he explained was partially to keep the production moving faster. Ironically, during the production of [S] Cascade, organizing contributors turned out to be much more of a hassle—but ultimately Hussie deems the myriad of captivating art styles “a big plus” in his post.

[3] Although some are completely broken, now :(. RIP silly flute refrain.

[4] I seriously cannot overstate how grateful I am for this project. 

[5] This article does a great job of explaining the history of Adobe Flash and its eventual demise.

[6] Hussie goes over some of the issues he had with the software in the post referenced at [2]

[missmeikakuna]

Lilies For You- F/F Angst story

I wrote this for a writing contest on Amino and thought I should put it here. Rated: T Fandom: Original story Relationship type: F/F Description: Ruth has had feelings for her childhood friend Elaine for decades. After a falling out between them years ago, she has come to ask for forgiveness and confess to her with a bouquet of her favourite flowers.

Ruth took a few deep breaths as she walked up the stairs on the hill, a bouquet of lilies in her sweaty palm. She looked up at the stone steps in front of her and considered turning around. It wasn’t like she had to make her feelings clear. Shaking her head, she reminded herself that this was important. The day had arrived.

She slowly moved her wispy body up the steps, frequently looking down to ensure she didn’t fall and break her back. The wrinkles on her forehead became more visible as she frowned. 

The day Ruth first met Elaine was perfectly ordinary. The air was at room temperature, with a light breeze and a few clouds in the sky. It was as if this meeting would not change their lives forever.

Next to Ruth’s neat blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, Elaine’s wild black pigtails stood out. A wide gap could be seen between Elaine’s teeth. Whereas Ruth had small, beady eyes, Elaine’s were wide with the spirit of adventure.

Elaine held out her muddy hand as she introduced herself. Ruth scrunched her nose at her but said her name as well.

‘Do you want to play with me in the sandpit?’ Elaine’s voice was squeaky.

‘Only if you wash your hands,’ Ruth said. Her voice was stronger and more authoritative but also had the high pitch of youth. Elaine laughed. Ruth built a sandcastle while Elaine splashed sand around like it was water at the beach. 

After a bit of silence, Elaine spoke. ‘My mum said the Russians are going to bomb the world soon.’

‘What’s ‘bomb’?’

Elaine shrugged and continued spraying the sand about.

It only took a minute for Ruth to need a break. She panted while resting her hands on her thighs, bent over until she resembled a hunchback. She closed her eyes and listened to the little symphony of bird calls. It would have been calming had it not been for the laughter of the kookaburra, which sounded as if it was mocking her tiredness. 

She waited for her breaths to return to a normal pace before continuing her journey.

Ruth leaned back in her chair with her feet on her desk. She brushed a stray hair back into her untidy ponytail and waited. And waited. And waited some more. 

She eventually gave up on waiting, twisting her body away from the door. She refused to sit up straight even after the teacher told her to, earning her a painful ruler on the wrist.

Her sulking ended when she heard the door open. There she was. Elaine’s pigtails, a lot neater than they were when she was in primary school, bounced as she ran up to Ruth.

‘We’re in the same class again!’ Elaine squealed. She spoke with a slight lisp as she tried to move her mouth around the gold braces surrounding her teeth.

The two jumped up and down until their teacher told them to go to their desks.

Off in the distance, Ruth could hear the trickle of a brook. It whispered to her that she was relatively close to her destination. Her legs ached but she carried on.

She kept scratching her arm, wishing she had brought insect repellent with her. She was going to look like a pockmarked mess in front of Elaine if she wasn’t careful.

Ruth mustered the restraint to no longer scratch her itches. She looked down at her flowers and gasped, swatting away the numerous bugs that had inhabited her bouquet.

She closed her puffy eyes for a moment. The previous night, she had slept for less than two hours.  

The pair of friends sat against an outside wall of the school. Smoke rose and joined the chimney as Elaine took puffs of her cigarette. Her hair was all over the place and one of her eyes had a big purple bruise.

‘Dad’s such an asshole,’ she muttered.

When a teacher spotted Elaine and Ruth and chased them, they giggled and ran around the grounds until she gave up. They sat down by the tree at the edge of the school grounds and Elaine put out her cigarette in the dirt.

‘I wish we could live together,’ Ruth said as she slid her hand onto Elaine’s. ‘Then you wouldn’t have to deal with him.’ 

Without even realising what was going on, Elaine pulled her hand away. ‘That would be nice.’

Ruth stared at her now cold hand. She eventually shifted her view towards Elaine, whose uniform was too small. This outfit, intended to be modest, showed curves it wasn’t supposed to show. Ruth wanted to touch those curves so badly she could die.

The thoughts that were by that point constant in her mind made her feel sick. She was unsure if the feeling in her stomach was butterflies or disgust at herself. Either way, she knew it was best to keep these thoughts to herself.

At night, she would often cry into her pillow after fantasising about her dearest friend. What would Elaine think if she knew her feelings? What would she do?

The sky became the colour of smoke and the wind sent a chill through Ruth’s body, blowing her long silver hair about. She had to take another break.

She sat on one of the steps and glanced down at the bouquet in her hands. The petals were already starting to droop. She knew this was going to be a terrible gesture. What would Elaine think?

As she stretched out her legs, she realised her knees were also aching. Her shoulders were tense and her heart felt as if it was stuck in a vice that tightened a tiny bit every second.

The bird calls were getting louder and with less synchronisation, creating a cacophony of squawks. Ruth could barely hear her thoughts, which were also out of sync with each other. She managed to calm down while focusing on the gentle stream in the distance.

She heaved her body up and resumed her journey.

The pot of lilies, Elaine’s favourite flower, looked beautiful in the window. Ruth gazed at them lovingly as she sat on the couch and kept that expression as her eyes moved towards Elaine. The woman with long and straight black locks was hanging their washing to dry. Ruth’s brown hair, darkened by years in the sun, was in a messy updo.

The walls of the apartment were covered in orange and yellow graphic floral wallpaper. They managed to get an old but inexpensive television, which stood in the corner of the apartment.

They had finally unpacked everything. At long last, they were in their new home together.

Elaine hung her last piece of clothing and turned to Ruth. ‘By the way, there’s someone I want you to meet. His name’s Blaine and I like him a lot.’

A shiver ran down Ruth’s spine as her heart dropped into the icy cold waters of her gut. ‘I… I see. That’s great.’

Ruth barely spoke when Blaine came over, looking down at her glass as she swirled the cheap wine around. Following the man’s departure, Elaine plopped down on the couch next to Ruth.

‘Are you doing okay? You seemed out of it.’

Ruth’s wine swirling sped up. ‘It’s fine. He seems lovely.’

‘I know, right?’ Elaine asked with large sparkling eyes that reminded the other woman of their childhood.

Ruth bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something stupid.

Over the next few months, Ruth and Elaine would have a gay old time chatting away until Blaine came over and Ruth shrivelled on the couch. Elaine didn’t push it, thinking she was just not used to the new company. That is, until Ruth, drunk on wine, actually said something.

‘Blaine, do you worry about going over to our apartment at this hour?’

The man rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. ‘Why would that be a problem?’

‘People talk. A man going to a woman’s home at night? Sounds suspicious.’

Elaine blushed. ‘Ruth!’

Ruth held out her glass and pointed at Blaine with the same hand. ‘I’d hate for Elly’s reputation to go downhill just for someone like you.’

‘Someone like me?’ Blaine asked with another nervous chuckle.

Elaine grabbed Ruth’s hand and pulled her to the kitchen. ‘What are you doing?’ she hissed.

‘Protecting you.’

‘From who? Blaine? Is that why you turn into a completely different person when he’s around? What’s wrong with Blaine?’

‘You don’t get it.’

Elaine put her hands on her hips. ‘Try me.’

The words rose up Ruth’s throat but something blocked them from coming out. Her hands shook as she grabbed Elaine’s sleeve.

‘I… I…’ When she couldn’t push the words out, she wrapped her hands around Elaine’s wrists and squeezed them. Elaine gasped in pain and tore her arms away. Ruth crossed her arms and aloofly looked away. ‘You know how men are. I’m surprised you can trust them after…’ her words trailed off.

Elaine’s eyes narrowed. ‘After what?’ Ruth gulped, still facing away from the other woman. ‘After what, Ruth?’

‘I just don’t get why you don’t have your guard up. I’m trying to keep you from getting your heart broken!’

‘You’re not my Dad! Stop trying to run my life for me!’

Ruth stepped back. She remembered the trail of bruises down Elaine’s body as a teenager. At first, she pictured Elaine’s father standing over the girl with a raised fist. He grabbed her by the collar and went to punch her when the father’s body transformed into Ruth’s. Upon seeing that image, Ruth covered her mouth, her face lily-white.

By the time Ruth awakened from her daymare, Elaine had already run out of the kitchen. Ruth followed her and saw her crying into Blaine’s chest. Ruth saw the soft judgement in Blaine’s eyes as he looked at her, the eyes of a parent who wasn’t angry but was disappointed. At that very moment, she knew she had lost.

She stormed into her room and started packing her things. Hearing the rapid opening and closing of drawers, Elaine rushed into the room.

‘Wait, I’m sorry! Please don’t leave!’

‘Get Blaine to live with you until the lease is up,’ Ruth suggested with bite in her voice, shoving clothing into a suitcase. ‘Since apparently our… your landlord is okay with him visiting the apartment at night so often.’ 

‘You don’t have to leave over a little fight like this,’ Elaine said, putting a tender hand on Ruth’s shoulder. ‘Surely we’ll get over it by tomorrow. Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?’

‘It’s not about the fight.’ Ruth rolled her shoulder away from Elaine’s hand.

‘Then what is it? What could possibly be so awful that it undoes years of our friendship?’

Ruth didn’t say. She simply continued packing her belongings. She looked back several times before leaving the apartment that night.

Finally, Ruth made it to the top of the hill. A tiny bit of sunlight pierced through the clouds to illuminate the rows of gravestones. She searched up and down the cemetery until she found the right one, the one with Elaine’s name on it. She carefully kneeled by the stone and laid her bouquet in front of it. There were already several flowers by the tombstone.

‘Hello.’ Her whisper created a roaring echo in the empty graveyard, this place devoid of life. ‘I heard you were buried here and I had to find you. Happy birthday, Elly.’

Her fingertips brushed against the photo of Elaine on the gravestone, her wrinkled visage nearly unrecognisable to her. The date of death was 2019. She had been buried alone. 

A lump formed in Ruth’s throat. Her cheeks began to smell like the sea as salty tears rolled down them. ‘I… I’m so sorry. You had nothing to apologise for. It was all my fault.’ She wiped her eyes with her arm but the tears kept coming. ‘You probably thought I hated you. I never did. In fact, I…’ The lump in her throat blocked her words until she swallowed it. ‘I loved you. No, love you. I came here to tell you that. You deserve to know.’

Ruth smiled softly. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet. Her name’s Bernice and I like her a lot.’ She listened to the brook as she waited.

After a few minutes, a stout old woman with short, curly grey hair reached the top with panting breaths. 

‘Who is this person you wanted to see?’ she asked as she held out her hand and helped Ruth up. 

Ruth rubbed her hand against the top of the tombstone. ‘An old friend.’ Bernice wrapped her arms around her and held her close as Ruth sobbed into her chest. 

A few more minutes passed. The two kissed as they always did but Ruth still felt bubbles of joy float up from her stomach. She took Bernice’s hand and together they made the cautious journey down the steps.

[tessimagines]

Wash Me Clean // Thomas Shelby - Part Three

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N) finally meets the other members of the Shelby Family and has her very first talk with Arthur. 

Series Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, fighting and PTSD.

Wordcount: 3.5k

A/N: HOLY CRAP! I am so, so, so, so sorry for the extremely long wait. It’s really not good enough. I’m currently in my last years of high school, which means, unfortunately, that study will have to come before my writing (no matter how much I wish I could write instead!). Anyways, I hope you like this one!

You had never planned on keeping him waiting.

The heels of your boots click on the concrete steps as you clumsily put one in front of the other, blowing the wisps of (h/c) hair that fall around your flushed face. Of all the mornings, you thought to yourself, of course it had to be this one. It always seemed to be the natural order of things. The only morning you accidentally sleep in is the morning you have Thomas Shelby waiting out in the street for you. 

You feel the hem of your long, emerald skirt catch under the sole of your left boot, flinging your body forward and into the wall in front of you. You catch yourself upright, your hands pressed up against the pale cream of the concrete wall. You sigh, talking a long, deep breath in. Get your head straight, (Y/N), you tell yourself, your eyes closed. Don’t make a fool of yourself. Not after coming all this way.

You take one last grounding breath, feeling it settle deep inside your chest and easing the tightness that grip each one of your muscles. And then you turn to face the door, taking the last three steps towards it before pushing it open, your eyes immediately settling on the figure of Thomas Shelby leaning against the stone wall of your apartment building.

He is a picturesque image of calmness, stark against the chaotic brightness of the Small Heath street you both stand on. He slips a tightly rolled cigarette into his mouth, taking a long drag and letting the smoke settle into his lungs. When he breathes it out, his eyes, the colour of a Blue Jay’s feathers, survey the people around him until they finally find their way to you. 

“I’m so sorry about my tardiness,” you mutter, breathless. Despite the calmness of his expression, you can see the tiredness riddled into his features. He seems impartial to your apology, hardly a morsel of annoyance visible on his face.

“Not to worry,” He says, lifting the cigarette to his lips again. When he speaks again, smoke flurries out of his mouth with every word. “How was your morning?”

“Rushed,” you laugh, settling into a fast-paced walk beside him. You feel your fingers go white as they grip the small, fabric tapestry bag in your hands. he leads you down the crowded and dirty street, past the soot-blackened face of the Blacksmith just down the road from your new house. You watch as he dips his bald head at the man beside you, a gesture of respect. But you see the hint of fear that flashes across his eyes, before he quickly shifts them to the ground below him. 

Every man that you both walk past imitates that same nod in Tommy’s direction, each one with a mixture of reverence and anxiety suddenly absorbed into their features. Thomas nods back to them, and it’s only then that they seem to relax, some of the trepidation seeping out of them as their shoulders loosen.

You watch as a plump and red-skinned woman pulls her child out of his path, scolding him with her grip firm on his forearm. An apology seeps from her lips, muttered over and over again until Thomas puts a hand up and shakes his head. She shuffles backwards, only then loosening the claw that is wrapped around her son’s arm. 

You notice their eyes following you two. After they assess that Thomas Shelby has nothing to say to them, they let their eyes trail you in curiosity. You notice a young woman, perhaps only two years younger than you, eye you with a glint of jealousy in the dark brown of her eyes. You have never been looked at that way before, and it leaves a feeling of uneasiness deep inside you. 

“Everybody knows you,” you mutter, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ear. No matter how tight you do it, they always manage to escape from your updo. 

“Eh?”

“Everyone we walk past nods at you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were a celebrity.” You said, watching as yet another man dips his head at Thomas’ passing. Thomas’ eyes flicker over to you, letting a little humph slip from his lips.

“You don’t miss a thing, do you?” You lift your (e/c) eyes to meet his, finding a hint of amusement in their deep blue. You swear there is the slight slant of a smile on the corner of his lips, but he drops it, bringing the cigarette to sit there once again. You smell the intoxicating smell of the tobacco as he blows it out, using his cigarette to point at one of the many townhouses along the street. “It’s just this one here.” 

Thomas takes a small, metal key out of his pocket, the surface of it dull with the years of its use. He inserts it into the door, waits for a click and then pushes it open, holding it just long enough for the two of you to walk in. You allow Tommy to take the burgundy overcoat off of your shoulders and hand it up beside his own on the coat rack beside the door. 

The room you had entered was small but still held the feeling that came with the living quarters of any close-knit family. It seems like a good place for young kids to grow up, and at face value, it was just that. Just another family home, all the furniture and wallpaper beset with years of use and love. But you knew that there was something deeper at play here, it wasn’t just the warm home of a close family.

The footsteps of a clumsy child running downstairs sounded around the room, and within an instant, a young boy no older than eleven was leaping into Tommy’s arms.

“Tommy,” he said, his eyes moving from you to the man who held him. “Who’s this?”

“This is Miss (Y/L/N),” Thomas answered, ruffling the hair on the younger boy’s head. He then turns to you, a warmth in his features at the little boy in his arms. “(Y/N), this is Finn Shelby.”

You smile at the young boy, outstretching a hand towards him. The younger boy gladly took it, the largest of smiles on his face. “Hello, Finn. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Finn doesn’t seem able to stop smiling at you. Thomas places him down on the timber floor of the entrance, a laugh on his lips.

“All right, Finn.” He begins, his voice taking a more serious tone. “Now, Miss (Y/L/N) is here to talk with Arthur, okay? So when they are up there, I don’t want you going up and interrupting them. Do you understand me?”

Finn hesitates for a second, a fallen expression on his face. He nods his head despite his disappointment, still looking at Tommy’s face crouched down low in front of him. “Yes, Tommy. I understand.”

“Good Lad.” Thomas stands up and pats his young brother on the back, watching as he scuttles off to play. He then turns back to you, a small smile still playing on his lips.

“He’s cute,” you laugh as he walks back over to you. Tommy just continues to smile, raising his hands at your words.

“He’s my eleven-year-old brother.” There was some resemblance between the two, you had to admit. Despite the large age gap, they clearly look like brothers.

“Speaking of brothers,” you said, your mind flickering to your job again. “Is Arthur here?”

“He should be upstairs,” Thomas replies, pointing up the stairs to your right. “Oh and before you go up, (Y/N). Arthur isn’t the most trusting person. Don’t be surprised if it takes him a few weeks to warm up to you. If he gets upset or angry, you’re best to just let him go.”

“Of course.” You nod and Tommy watches as you make your way up the stairs, looking back down at him as you reached a pine coloured door.  He gives you a reassuring nod before opening his mouth, his blue eyes filled with anticipation.

“Good luck,” he encourages. And with a timid smile in his direction, you open the door and step inside, your eyes immediately falling on a brown-haired and skinny man pacing the room alongside a bookcase.

“John, you home?” Thomas lifts the cap off his head as he peers into the living room of his brother’s house, finding only his four nieces and nephews playing on the floor. 

“Uncle Tommy!” Katie, the oldest shouts, getting up and leaving her doll aside to quickly wrap her arms around him. Tommy places an arm around her before she lets go. “Da’s upstairs with Ma. She’s sick.”

The other children had begun to gather around him, all pushing their way in front of the others to try and give him a hug. Tommy heard the familiar heavy pounds of his brother’s feet on the stairs, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as he came down. 

“Tommy,” John says, “sorry I was just with Martha. You wanna head off now?” 

“Yeah. There’s business at the Garrison. Jack Ferry’s son wants a job.” Tommy throws John his coat as the kids rush back to their toys. He puts his own on before opening the door of his brother’s house, allowing both of them to step out into the frigid February air of Birmingham. 

“Is Arthur coming?” 

Tommy shakes his head as he adjusts his coat collar. “He’s with Miss (Y/L/N).” 

“Ah, yeah. Almost forgot about her. But you haven’t though, have you, Tommy? Arthur and I bet this is all just a way to get into her--”

“You wanna test me, John? Now just shut up for once in your fucking life and walk.”

“Hello, Arthur, I’m-” You begin, but he huffily cuts you off, not once stopping his pacing.

“Yeah, I know who you are.” His voice is gruff and rough, and you detect what seems like a hint of discontent. His eyes won’t meet yours for more than half a second before he turns around and paces the other way.

You look around uncomfortably at the room and decide on sitting down in one of the oak armchairs in the centre of the room. It’s lined with a thin grey fabric-covered cushion that does nothing for its rigid discomfort. You place your fabric bag down on the floor beside you and motion to the similar chair across from you. “Arthur, would you like to sit down?”

“Look,” Arthur said, whipping around to face you with a finger pointing in your direction. “I know Tommy trusts you but that doesn’t mean I do. I dunno you and Tommy can’t just make me talk to a person I dunno.”

“Do you trust Tommy?” The question takes him by surprise. He pauses, faltering, then straightens up as he begins to answer.

“Yes.”

You smile at him, readjusting your emerald green skirt. “Do you think that behind all of this, Tommy just wants what is best for you?”

Arthur pauses again for a moment, taking your words in. He still seems hesitant and begins to fidget with his cap in his hands, but after a second, he begins to nod his head. “Yeah, yeah I suppose he does.”

It takes him another moment to cross the room and take a seat in the armchair across from you. It’s the first time you are able to get a proper look at his face. His skin is rough, slight stubble sprouting from his jaw and his brown hair is combed towards the back of his head. His face looks as rough and gruff as his voice sounds, a thin brown moustache sitting on the top of his upper lip.

“My name is (Y/N),” you say, despite Arthur already knowing it himself. He doesn’t stop you this time and allows you to go on. “I was a Field Nurse in the war.”

“So I’ve heard,” Arthur responds. He looks incredibly uncomfortable in his seat and shifts around, changing his position. “Where were you at?”

“I worked everywhere. The Marne, the Somme, Verdun, Cambrai. I was even at Meuse-Argonne the day the war ended.” Arthur didn’t speak but his tense expression loosened a little. “Where were you?”

“Gallipoli and then they sent me right off to the Somme.” Arthur was hardly daring to make eye contact and would shift them to the side whenever you tried to meet his eye.

There was silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say to each other. It brought a harsh air to the room and sent Arthur fidgeting in the chair. You weren’t a psychologist, or even a fully trained medical Doctor. What could you say without Arthur closing up and storming off?

“I tended to a few Gallipoli soldiers.” Arthur was looking across at the small, wooden table between the two of you, his eyes focusing on the decanter filled with a deep, amber whisky. He reaches across and grabs it, pulling off the oval lid. He pours two crystal tumblers quarter-way with the alcohol, passing one to you before sitting back down in his seat.

“They said that everything was hopeless in Gallipoli,” you continue after thanking him for the drink. Arthur was downing his in large mouthfuls, hardly flinching at the taste of the undiluted alcohol in his mouth.

“The whole war was bullshit,” Arthur says before noting the word he had let slip from his lips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sworn in a woman’s company.”

You let a small laugh pass between you, waving him off. “Don’t worry. I was a nurse, remember? I grew quite used to it during the war.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you, Arthur using it to pour himself another drink. His shoulders are stiff and his emotions tightly-wound. He is doing his best to keep you away from the safely-guarded privacy of his memories.

“Did you lose anyone in the war?” You ask, tilting your head as you look up at him. He is now walking around behind his armchair, whisky tumbler in hand. 

“No family,” he said. “But friends. A lot of friends.”

You nod, knowing what that was like all too well. You went into the war with an extra brother and three cousins, and now, none of them were here, lost to the war who didn’t discriminate on who would be missed or not. “Were they tunnelers too?”

“Yeah.” His answers are short and blunt. You need them to be longer, so you could search for the deeper questions to ask. Something that will mix something up inside of him, allowing him to feel as though he can trust you that little bit more.

“Were you there when they… you know?”

“Yeah, a few of ‘em.” You watch him take another large sip of his drink, taking relief in the burning it causes on its way down. “One of ‘em, he got the shakes down in the tunnel and that’s never good. You can’t breathe properly down there and it got to ‘im. He got it real bad and we couldn’t get ‘im out. So I just…”

And then it was if he tore himself from his words, a deep red colour beginning to bloom around his white shirt collar. His drink was no longer in his hand, but slammed down on the desk across from him with considerable force. When he turned to you, you saw burning hot animosity in his eyes.

“Why am I tellin’ you this?” His voice was loud and had a booming effect in the small room. “I don’t know you! Why are you askin’ these questions and trying to get inside my head?!”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Stop talkin’!” Arthur’s booming voice erupts a dull pain in your ears. “I don’t want you gettin’ in my head anymore!”

He stumbles around the room, bringing his hands to comb through his wax-combed hair. He mumbles to himself, each indistinguishable word a lattice of fury and pain. He clambers out of the crowded room, leaving behind a dense feeling low in your stomach.

You walk over the window and peer out, watching as Arthur Shelby slams the door of his family’s house shut. He continues storming down the street of Small Heath, the cap on his head doing nothing to block the view of the burning furiousness on his face. People jump out of his way, the man hardly giving a look at the people terrified of offending him.

You take another deep breath and pick up your soft cream cardigan sitting on the arm of the armchair. There was no point in staying here a minute longer. So with a huff, you make your way towards the door and open it up, taking the stairs two at a time on your way down.

You didn’t notice the young woman in the drawing room as you walked past her, a small book sitting in her lap and her red cardigan sharp against the deep green of her armchair. She lifts her head from her afternoon reading, an eyebrow-raising as she takes your appearance in and a smirk making its way across her lips. 

“Oh, don’t worry about him.” The words take you by surprise, your head sharply turning towards her voice. The young woman sitting in the armchair was looking up at you, a smile sitting on her thin, pink lips.

“Who are you?” She was clearly a few years younger than yourself, around the age of twenty-three or twenty-four. Her hair was a dark chocolate colour and her eyes were a bright Shelby blue, so similar to the pair Thomas carried with him.

“Ada Shelby,” she says, closing the book in her hands and placing it on the oak table beside her. “Tommy’s sister. You must be Miss (Y/L/N).”

She extends a hand and you take it, a blush rising up to your cheeks. “Please just call me, (Y/N).”

“Will Arthur be alright?” you ask, your eyes flickering out the window. He had disappeared by now, off to wherever the men of Birmingham storm off in an angry rage.

“Oh, he’ll be fine. He will just be off to the Garrison to complain to Tommy or something. Don’t worry about him.” Ada stood up out of her chair and gave you a warm smile. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Before you knew what she was doing, she had grabbed your hand and led you over to a little table in the middle of the kitchen. It was only once she had placed the tea-pot in front of you that she sat down, the bitter aroma of black tea in the air.

“So,” Ada says, raising her rose-painted teacup to her lips. “You’re the only one that Tommy thinks can help us, eh?”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Each tick radiating from the clock next to you echoes around the dark, cool room. You imagine that you felt each of them bouncing off your exposed skin, one leg out of the covers and another inside. You feel each tick push you more and more over the edge, closing your eyes as if it would stop the sound coming from the chiming clock hanging up beside your wardrobe. 

It wasn’t the clock. You knew it. It wasn’t homesickness, no place had felt like home since the war had ended anyway. This time it wasn’t even the memories of dying boys in your arms, or the sound of their fatigued and anguished screams rippling through the thin walls of a canvas tent. It was the fucking Shelby family. 

They were stuck on a loop in your head like one of your father’s broken classical records. The thought of Arthur made you want to scream with frustration. The thought of Tommy brought the image of his blue eyes to your head and the nods of people passing him in the street. It was something in those nods, the anxiety of a sudden turn on them that you couldn’t stop thinking about. And then there was Ada, with her tea and her talk. 

She had spoken of the ways the war had changed her brothers. A gruff man’s fits of violence, some so sudden that it was hard for him to remember how he got on top of the person he was punching. The father who had come back to find kids he didn’t know, each ‘Da’ from their lips like a whispered, long-lost memory. And finally, the one who barely slept, and when he did, each second of it was infected by dreams of an enclosing prison of unstable dirt walls around him.

You caught yourself looking over at the god-damned clock again. Each tick marks another second that you lay awake, sleepless. And you knew, that it probably marks another one for Thomas Shelby too.

You get up and smash the clock.

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[wallpaperpainting]

Understanding The Background Of Panoramic Canvas Art | Panoramic Canvas Art

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[wydobrien]

attitude check

AUTHOR: @wydobrien​

WORD COUNT: a whopping 6,278

WARNINGS: descriptive violence, blood, roughness, choking, rough spanking, daddy kink, oral (m & f) and generally just hot mitch rapp overall. nsfw smut.

⋆ listen to me ⋆

i’m still rusty on writing smut and writing in general, since i’ve been on a writing hiatus for quite a while. but after watching both trailers for american assassin and reading some awesomeness from @writing-obrien​ and @sincerelystiles​ it has brought me out of my hiatus-hole !! i hope you all enjoy this as much as i did writing it. ;-) big thanks for @thelittlestkitsune​ for being the usual angel she is and helping me power through writing this. i also felt like i rushed the ending but :)))))). if you want a part two or anything, please please let me know !!

also, obv (y/n) = your name and (y/l/n) = your last name.

  It’s not like you had given up, everything you had worked for has been temporarily stolen from you. All because you had done the one thing that is most discouraged in your line of work. You had made things personal for you.

  All of the hard work, the sweat, the energy. Constant time in the training room, constant gun training, constant sleepless nights. You are always so doused in anger, so energized with the desire of vengeance, it has made you into this cold, killer machine no one had the power to turn on and off. Your instructor, especially, has been at her wits end trying to make sure you keep your ass out of trouble, being busy with her own conflicts. Recently you had broken one of her recruit’s wrists during a wrestling match in the training room, and your instructor had snapped. And that is what led you to your environment right now, being driven towards some random home in the middle of absolute nowhere.

  The deep green and brown colors surrounding you did little to ease you, and with your instructor being the one driving, it annoyingly erased the chance of turning around. You’re a soldier, an agent, an assassin; top of your classes, ruthless with a gun and merciless with its trigger. Not a child having to be driven to her babysitter because your agency can’t handle the insatiable fire roaring inside you.

  “You did this to yourself, (y/n).” Your instructor’s voice is stern, just how it always is, and you turn your head to look towards her, her own attention focused on the dirt-clad road ahead. “The only reason you’re not kicked out is because of me convincing them to do this.” You squint your eyes with a small scowl across your face, crossing one leg over the other as your eyes bore into your own window to your right. You feel like you’re being treated like a child. But, you still said nothing. All that was brewing in your mind was how long you had to stay wherever your instructor is taking you.

  The rest of the drive, fortunately, is short and quiet.

  Once she turns the last corner, the home is revealed. It appears to be like any other house, despite being surrounding by thick trees and dirt. You feel like you’ve been here before, but, you can’t seem to place when. Maybe it was just your head playing deja-vu on you.

  Your instructor exits the car first, with you following suit patiently, lugging your bag from where your feet had been onto your back. You shut the door with your calf before meeting your instructor at the steps of the home, the heavy smell of earth entering your nose quickly. “Who lives here?” You mumble, and your instructor turns towards you as soon as the sound of a doorknob wiggling to unlock itself. Immediately, your attention is pointed towards the door, watching the face that reveals itself when the door finally opens. It’s an older man, possibly in his mid-to-late 40s, but has a strong build and a seriously firm resting bitch face, looking towards your instructor. He looks like someone of big authority, however, so you made sure being polite was at high remembrance each time you saw this man.

  “This is the one, Irene?” He asks, and you tilt your head at his rude tone of surprise. Your instructor, Irene, visibly nods and he looks at you up and down, as if analyzing you in disbelief. “I’m Hurley. From what I heard, and what I’ve read from your records, you need an attitude check.” Attitude check. Seriously. You bottle up any irritation from the belittling phrase and simply lift your chin.

  “Yes, sir.” You speak monotonically, and Hurley scoffs. You grip onto your bag’s shoulder straps tighter and he moves to the side for you to step in, which you do. Once again, this looks just like any other, normal home. Framed pictures of family, the home is neat and organized, and there is even a clean smell of a candle somewhere in it.

  Irene and Hurley meet you on each of your sides before they step in front of you, wrapped up in their own small, private conversation clearly involving you at the hushed tone of voice they were using. “I know exactly what I need to do with you, (y/n).” Hurley speaks, and you gulp, but quickly brush off the sheepish gesture by rolling your shoulders and peering up at your, apparently, new instructor. “There’s rooms upstairs. Pick one, get dressed and get ready in ten. You’ll have time to unpack later.” You lick over your lips and brush past Hurley, walking towards the set of stairs. And, this time, you can hear their conversation from a few feet.

  “You know I’m not going to have proper time for this, Irene. They’re already sending that other one you were talking to me about, with a case just like this one, and I have the rest of the Orion group I’m training. I’m not a babysitter.” Hurley’s voice sounds evidently impatient, and as much as you want to listen more, you keep walking up the steps at a normal pace. Unfortunately, you are unable to listen to what your previous instructor has to say, something you wish had heard before your future.

  “But you’re what she needs, Stan. Trust me, when those two meet, they’ll be something you’ve never seen before. Put them with guns and they’ll definitely be something this agency hasn’t ever experienced before. Trust me when I say this, Stan, Rapp and (y/l/n) will be unstoppable.”

——

  With white, hot anger coursing through your body, you, once again, take another leap at your competitor, your mind flashing with images of much more violent, but similar, events that have happened to you.

  “(y/l/n), what did I just say?” The frustrated voice speaks through your ear-piece as you slip into the room with ease. The sleek, form-fitting gown that is draped over your body brings moderate attention towards you, with your target being only three feet away. Scum is what your target is, being no different than all the rest of the bastards you’re trained on killing. “Get your ass back out to your team outside. You’ll cause too much commotion. Listen to me, dammit. (y/ln)-” You brush some fallen strands of hair behind your ear, slyly turning off your cleverly hidden ear-piece in the process as you make your way to your target with a sickly sweet smile.

  Grabbing onto your competitor’s arm, your legs have his way of escape blocked as you yank it behind his back, slithering one of your legs from your lock-hold to his back, where you knock his knees in, with you pushing down on his back till the side of his face hits the sweaty mat.

  Once the door is locked, your target immediately goes for the thin shoulder straps of your dress. All that is buzzing through your mind is that one day, that one day, where your normal life was snatched away from you. Hand snaking to your back to reach for the tucked-in holster behind your bra strap, you manage to get good grip on the handle of the knife before swinging it out and immediately going for the throat. And with the close proximity, you were able to brush the blade clean across the midsection of his throat, unable to drive it right through like you had wanted. The target curses, holding the sliced skin with one hand while the other reaches behind him, ready to pull out his gun. You kick him square in the chest with your heel instead, slamming him up the wall and handling your knife once more, lifting it ever-so accordingly to your differentiating heights as your target’s blood splatters down your cheeks, neck and chest.

  “Release!” The sudden order goes over your head as you hold your competitor down with your foot, watching as his tightly shut eyes and tense body try to move against your hold. “Release (y/l/n)!” Once more, you numbly tilt your head to the side, bringing two hands to your competitor’s arm, the one pinned behind his back, getting a good opposing hold and gently lifting it from his back, grip tightening.

  The knife wedged in his throat, you reach for the gun he had recently tried to grab for, pulling it easily and cocking the pistol to ready the bullets in the small barrel. You point the barrel right between his eyes and pull the trigger, standing firm against the blast as his blood spews behind his head onto the silky white wallpaper. You pull the knife out of his throat with your free hand and dig the tip of it into the bullet-hole of his head, pulling the bullet out and smiling to see it drenched in hot, deep scarlet. Setting the gun in the same hand you have your knife in, you grab the bullet with numb fingers and stick it right between your target’s lips and into his mouth, before letting him fall to the floor. Loading the gun once more with the knife’s handle in-between your free fingers, you scowl down at the target and finally find it in yourself to turn your ear-piece back on with your free hand.

  “The job’s already done. Backup in ten, I can already hear more of them coming up the stairs.”

  You feel hands grab at you away from your competitor, hearing him gasp out in breath of relief as you blink rapidly. Hurley is the one holding you, but you quickly escape from his grasp and breathe heavily, looking at him with squinted eyes. “I told you to release. You’ve been here for a month and still can’t follow a simple order.” You huff, turning around to face him and being slightly surprised to see a new scruffy face standing next to him, the honey-golden eyes staring intently into your own. “Fucking unbelievable, (y/l/n). You need a leash? Or do I need to watch you train like the child you are?” Your mouth opens in frustration, ready to lash out at your instructor but finding last-minute control as you fall from your high.

  “No, sir.” Hurley rolls his eyes and gestures his head towards what you guessed to be the newest recruit. You can see the defined muscles easily of the new recruit in his jacket and shirt, his dark brown, almost black, messy hair complimenting his sharp features. You lick over your lips and wait for the introduction of this new person, suddenly really finding interest in hearing his name. Or- last name- considering first name’s are discouraged.

  Hurley folds his arms neatly across his chest. “Good. Because this is your new partner. Introduce yourselves, get acquainted, get friendly, because I’m tired of you almost breaking bones in my training room.” And he turns away, ready to leave us alone. Partner? Oh hell fucking no.

  “Sir, I don’t need a partner. I don’t need to be training with some newbie who probably references off of action movies for his own training.” Hurley snaps his head back with cold eyes, appearing stressed as all hell. “This is not necessary.”

  “Well, good thing I didn’t ask you.” And that is all it takes for you to shut your mouth after that, not looking forward to another month being added to your sentence for your back-talk. You sigh frustratedly and snap your head to your new ‘partner’, his looks now completely thrown out your head. He looks annoyed with you already, probably from the small diss you’ve already laid on him without even saying hello to him, but he drags his tongue along the skin inside his mouth below his bottom lips, the protruding bulge of it causing your eyes to follow its short path from right to left.

  Stretching your back some to pop some of the creaks you had, you peer up at him with a single eyebrow rose high-enough to show your sour attitude towards him. “Rapp.” Is all he says for his own introduction. He doesn’t hold out a hand or anything, which you didn’t expect him to, and you place your hands on your hips, lifting your chin almost arrogantly.

  “(y/l/n).” You retort back. “I suggest you get your gear. . . or else you’d like to train with your head pinned against the floor as well.” And with that settled, you turn around and sway your hips in a confident, but heated, stride. What you didn’t see is that his eyes raked your figure as you did so, but, that would be the least of the subtle things that would happen between you two. “Ridiculous.” You whisper inaudibly underneath your breath.

  Partner, you spat in your head, partner my ass.

——

  There is nothing but heavy, gruff breaths between the two of you, the drive back to the place you have become more accustomed to less than pleasant. “You just never listen to anyone but yourself, don’t you?” His harsh words are meant to be harsh, but you find no offense in them because they are right. Still, you’re pissed off, and Mitch knows better than to edge you in when you’re pissed off. “You had to jump on him. You had to ruin the game-plan because you can’t control yourself.”

  You turn your body towards him in your seat, crossing your arms. “That’s because I’m not a pussy, Rapp. Something you and I don’t have in common. You know I’m famous for going my own way. They fucking deserve to rot and I don’t wait for the right time to kill them when any given amount of free time is the right time.” Mitch tsks, one of the hands he had gripped on the steering wheel smacking against it.

 “Being ignorant is not ‘not being a pussy’, (y/n). You’re so desperate to get killed, why don’t you just go running straight into their fire like your some Goddamn Wonder Woman? Out of everything you have taught me, I’m just glad being a foolhardy idiot wasn’t on the list because that is just something you’ve learnt all on your own.” This time, something pangs into my chest at his rant, and I grip onto my seat, glaring directly onto the profile of his face, a sharp look of anger hitting my features. “We don’t have a lot of things in common, (y/n), but not being a pussy is not one of them. Just fucking- fucking- fuck!” The car suddenly goes to a stop, both of our bodies being yanked forwards. Mitch hits the wheel once more angrily, the veins popping out from the tops of his large hands and along his forearm easily.

  “What the fuck Mitch?” You sneer, and he turns his head towards you quickly, unbuckling himself.

  “It’s the damn car, bitch. Not my fault.” You chuckle with no humor in your voice, readjusting yourself in your seat. He yanks his door open and stands for a second, looking at the steam flowing out from the hood of the truck you two had borrowed from your agency for your guy’s mission - the same one you had apparently ‘almost ruined’.

  Running a hand through your hair, your glare still remains firm on Mitch. “It is your fault when your dumbass was so focused on arguing with me rather than your own driving-” Slam. He shuts his door on you before you can even finish, leaving you to slump back in your own seat and growl beneath your breath. “Such a cunt.” It seems like he can hear you through the thin glass as well because next thing you know he’s throwing a middle finger towards your way, and you roll your eyes. Fortunately, with the sky quickly darkening and the urgent task at hand he was busying himself with, Mitch couldn’t see the fact that you’re flipping him off back with both hands. And for a while, when your middle fingers curl back into your fists, you’re left to sit there while your grumpy partner tries to fix your only way of transportation back to the house.

  However, the short time period of silence left you to sit in your head for a while, which is something you usually either avoid doing or never had the time to. Your thoughts often open too many wounds for you to handle, but, your phone is dead and the one person you actually enjoyed talking to, believe it or not, is being an asshole by himself outside and doesn’t want to hear another word you say. Normally what clogs up your head is what if the attack hadn’t happened. You’d still be together with your boyfriend, you’d be more focused on your writing instead of guns, you’d be. . . whole. Not what you are now. Incomplete, still picking up the pieces of yourself, forever cracked. You’re sure your mentality will never be the same. Beforehand, you found yourself to be discomforted by the idea of guns. Now, you feel most safe and content with one loaded in your hand. If the incident hadn’t happened, you would’ve been a good person. Sweet, kind, like you used to be. You used to be sympathetic, a gentle breeze that people always welcomed.

  But that’s not what you are anymore.

  You gulp and wipe at your face, before shaking your head and gripping the door handle to open it, the sounds and smells of the night filling your senses. You slam your door shut and maneuver to where Mitch is, ignoring the short cold glare he spikes towards you. “Having fun?” He doesn’t answer. “What, cat got your tongue? Normally Mitchie is one for comebacks. Something only I have been able to bring fully out of you.” Though that last part is slightly bleak in truth, it seemed completely true and honest to you. Originally, you had thought Mitch to be a kiss-ass. An arrogant kiss-ass that the agency still favors over you because he knows how to listen and you don’t. Most people call that jealousy, you call it bullshit. “You’re so handy with guns, but you can’t handle a few nuts and bolts.” At this point, he’s still not amusing you with a retort back, so you turn your back to leave him, finding more enjoyment playing with the dirt if playing with his anger wasn’t getting you anywhere.

  “Oh my God, can you just shut the fuck up.” Instantly, your head snaps his direction, stopping mid-step to face the red-faced man yourself. Your eyebrows crinkle together, with your lips slightly tilted downwards and eyes squinted to exhibit your anger at his spat towards you. He stands in front of you, staring directly at you with his darkened eyes, fists tightly balled on each of his sides, skin glistening with sweat from all the steam from the hood hitting him and the humidity of the night from the woods surrounding you two. You act fast in your irritation, placing both hands flat on his hard chest and pushing threateningly.

  “Make me.” Your words are sharp and clear, but you are still unable to catch the smirk on his face. You move to push him again at his delayed response, but, he catches both of the small of your wrists, yanking you towards him till your chest hits his own. His nose bumps yours in the sudden movement, and he speaks before you can retaliate.

  His breath his hot against your face, the air between you and him thickening rather quicker than you would’ve ever expected. “Oh, trust me, babygirl.” He leans towards your ear, a shiver being coaxed out of your body from his breaths tickling the quickly sensitizing skin. “I will.” This is not a side you have seen Mitch show at all, and it leaves you, for once in your life, in shock. This new attitude he’s showing you and is about to show you knocks you clean off the pedestal you had spent months building. And judging from the smirk still on his lips, he likes it.

  His movements are fast, still gripping onto your wrists and using his torso to help push you backwards. For a split second, he releases one of them and diverts his line of sight off of you, but only to slam your waist against the side of the hood of the car. You had expected a sneer, a glare, a cold insult. Not this. Not any of this. You still aren’t sure how to react, you had never felt intimidated before. And as soon as that thought hits you, you feel another scowl hitting your lips. You’re a counter-terrorist operative, you aren’t some damn damsel who obeys when someone like Mitch, someone who you have never been scared of, suddenly decides to go into this random ass alpha-mode. You suddenly jolt forward, attempting to push out of his grip, but you are yet again surprised with the amount of strength his pushes back with, keeping you firm in place. Slowly, his head turns back towards you. “I’m so fucking sick and tired of your Goddamn attitude.”

  Before you know it, you’re spun around, front facing the side of the hood of the truck. But Mitch doesn’t stop there, he uses his free hand to harshly push your front flat onto the metal, the side of your face hitting the hood. A tiny moan slips from your lips, the roughness making things in you squirm that you never knew had been there. He notices the sound as soon as it leaves your lips. “You’ve never listened to anyone in your fucking life, but that’s not how things are going to work tonight. You listen to me, understand?” You can’t find it in yourself to answer right away, too caught up in the heat of the moment. You hear a low growl rumble behind you, and you feel him push against you even harder. “Say you do.”

  “I understand.”

  “Show some fucking respect.” You had never called anyone m’am or sir unless it was someone you considered of high authority. For Mitch, it had always been dumbass, cunt, Mitchie, because he never questioned what you called him, just for the fact that you pretty much treat everyone you didn’t like, which was a lot, like shit. Mitch must’ve just felt lucky you even acknowledged him enough to call him out. But, not tonight; tonight is full of surprises. The heat starting to pool between your legs being one of them.

  “I understand, sir.” He hums what you assume to be a dark laugh, and you seem to find relief in him being pleased with you. But, instead, he drags his free hand up your back and into your hair, wounding it around his fist.

  Pulling your head back, he leans his face forward, this time planting small kisses and bites below your ear. “That’s not good enough.” He pushes his hips forward into your ass, giving you the opportunity to feel the slowly growing erection pressed against you.

  “I understand. . .” He pauses his actions, seemingly anticipating for the next word that is about to leave your mouth. “Daddy.” Shivers, once more, attack your spine, now truly comprehending the situation you’re about to go head-on into. Part of you suspected he’d be into that kind of thing, but you, of course, would’ve never believed you would be able to experience the answer of your inquiries first-hand. He slips his hand out from your hair, and you sigh in slight sadness, enjoying the slight burn in your scalp it brought. Despite of how much dominance he’s already exhibited to you, there’s still that fire inside you. The one telling you to take charge back. Hell, if you two are going to get into this, you feel as if you might as well make it worth it. You didn’t want Mitch to think you’re easily submissive. You move against him once more, and this time you succeed to slither out of his hold. You grab his face to yank his lips down to yours, crashing into it with teeth and tongue. He growls into your mouth, firmly grasping the back of your thighs and lifting you off your feet, wrapping your thighs around his hips.

  You huff a breath of frustration through your nose, before all the air is knocked out from your lungs as he roughly brings your back down onto the side of the hood of the truck. “Disobey me like that again and expect much more. Now, scoot up some and open your legs more for me. Don’t grab onto anything; the only thing you’ll be grabbing onto is my hair when I get hands on you properly.” A shaky moan leaves your lips. Despite all the things in your head to do otherwise, you finally oblige to his orders entirely, which makes him hum another chuckle. “That’s what I thought.” You sit up on the car-hood, the slightly curved surface causing you to fear that you might slip. But Mitch’s firm hands tell you otherwise as he skillfully unbuttons your jeans and yanks them off in record time. With his eyes on your black thong you had chosen to wear, dropping your jeans on the dirt road next to his feet.

  And, just as he had told you, your hands found a home buried in his hair as soon as he crouched down, his hot breath fanning across your covered core. Leaning in even more, he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, tongue massaging into the wet spot that had formed on your thong at the top. Your back lifts instinctively up on the hood, the spike of pleasure it brings you from just that singular movement blowing your mind in all directions. He hums in appreciation, sending vibrations to your core. “Lay back, babygirl.” He tells you, and you stay still, feeling frozen. He then moves you for you, placing the palm of his hand flat on your stomach and pressing down. Your thighs tense against the sides of his head, his wild and long hairs tickling the insides of your thighs. The new position causes your hands to pull from his hair, leaving them to brace themselves atop the hood of the car. He looks up to you, making sure you’re watching him, before leaning up slightly so his teeth can snag the top of the material of your thong. A single eyebrow is risen on his face as he pulls the thong downward, one hand still on your stomach while the other is gripping one of your hips.

  Once he successfully brings your thong down to your ankles, he lets that, too, fall to the ground, baring you entirely. He is too engulfed with his own desires that he leaves your top and bra on, and dives right in, pressing multiple open kisses against your clit. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to do this these past few weeks.” He mumbles, and you barely comprehend what he’s saying. “To bury my head in-between your legs, to be the one that makes you squirm and shake. Because I am the only one that can ever make you feel this way.” He kisses against you the way he would kiss your mouth, occasionally dipping his tongue and his lips brushing against your bundle of nerves. You inhale a sharp breath through your nose as he brings one of his hands down to you, the tips of his fingers gently tracing the edges of your entrance.

  “Oh, Daddy. . .” You breathe, fingers curling into the metal of the car.

  “That’s it, babygirl.” Mitch sighs against your clit, slipping a finger inside you and starting to pump. His pumps are in-sync with your sighs and moans, never once stopping, and he works his mouth against you, transferring from one technique to the next. From sucking against you to drawing shapes and impossible to decipher phrases onto your clit, letter by letter. His pumps start to become more rapid, which makes you feel utterly boneless, the hand that is not working inside you still holding you down. He adds another finger into the mix, twisting and turning his wrist to try out new angles, all while keeping his erratic pace. Your moans become more volumized and heavier as you reach your edge, leaning closer and closer over it as his movements only quicken. He curls his fingers as he buries them to the hilt inside you, his mouth moving back to pressing small kisses against your heat. “Come.” He demands, pushing a third finger in you, stretching you deliciously, and bringing them out only to slam them back in.

  It’s like your body is under his command because as soon as he curls his fingers once more, your orgasm rolls over you in waves. He doesn’t stop his fingers, but instead moves his face up to yours, slamming his lips atop of yours as his tongue explores every corner of your mouth, his teeth nibbling down on your bottom lip every now and then. You moan breathlessly into his mouth, which makes him only chuckle hoarsely in response, scissoring his fingers to reach newer places inside you. Your body is still shaking from the orgasm as he only built you up for a second one, milking every bit of you out onto his fingers. “I-I can’t, Daddy.” You whimper, breaking your kiss with him.

  “Yes you can.” He speaks firmly, his fingers reaching an unbelievable pace as he continuously slams his fingers inside you, all the while until his thumb reaches up to your clit, rubbing in a circular motion vigorously. “Come on babygirl, let go.” It takes a few seconds longer, but, you find yourself reaching another high and crashing down from it, coming all over his fingers once more. Slowly, he slips his fingers from you and wraps his lips around two of them, sucking graciously. He lifts the third finger up to your lips, the smirk returning to his features. “Taste yourself for me.” Mitch says, and you obey, allowing him to push his finger past your lips. He only growls in response to the feeling, pulling his finger from your mouth and pulling you to your feet.

  His hands are feisty and needy, clawing at any clothing you still had on. He lifts your shirt over your head and unclips your bra, while also stripping himself of his shirt, jeans and shoes. Fortunately, the ground is dry, so both Mitch’s and your clothes won’t be ruined.

  “Get on your knees.” He orders, already pushing down on your shoulders as he stares darkly down onto you, a slight tilt in his head - a motion only you had become famous for. You can only oblige, blinking numerously as your shaking hands move to the elastic of his boxers. Now, this is your chance. Your own smirk finds your face as you look up to meet his eyes as one of your hands move over to palm over his completely hardened erection, wrapping your fingers around the covered cock you had, secretly, wondered about. But, from the bulge straining against his boxers, you can tell he was bigger than you had thought. He sneers at you and tangles his hands in your hair, creating two fists. “You better get that mouth to work babygirl, before I do it for you. You aren’t allowed to tease me.” You don’t listen to his warning and continue your actions, planting gentle kisses against his hard-on.

  Mitch doesn’t tolerate it for another second, gripping onto your hair even tighter and bringing his hips closer to you, giving you a clear message that he meant business. You obey, tugging down his boxers enough to where his erection springs free. Mitch moans at the feeling of being unconfined, and your eyes widen at the size of him. You remember his words, but you toss them away for a handful of seconds, slowly sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock, right till the tip, where you kiss it once. You feel him shiver as you take just the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip and sucking in your cheeks, all while holding eye-contact with him. His own are shut for a split second, until he snaps them open, and you can see the darkened color of them.

  “What did I tell you?” He seethes, pushing your head further down on his length till his tip is brushing against the back of your throat. He even cants his hips forward, and his mouth hangs open as a empty moan flows right out through it. “Your mouth is only for my cock, got it?” You don’t say anything in response, but rather suck him hard as you bring your lips slowly up his cock. He licks his lips, already pushing you back down, right until it’s his hips doing most of the work. You still remember to use your tongue and even lightly brush your teeth against his cock each time he slips it out from your mouth, starting a punishing rhythm with his hips until it becomes increasingly erratic. “Oh, babygirl,” He moans, “that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock feels so good.” You simply continue on with your own actions, wanting to bring him to his own orgasm just as well as he brought you to yours.

  When he does, he pushes you down on his cock further than before, your nose buried in the hairs of his happy-trail, with his warm seed hitting the back of your throat. “C’mon babygirl, take it all like a good girl.” Mitch speaks, and you do as said, your own wishes of dominance diminishing by the second. For the first time since the incident, someone has put you in your place. You had no desires to disobey.

  You pull from his cock, a string of saliva following afterwards. He heaves for a split second, trying to recollect himself, and does it efficiently, already yanking you back up to your feet and turning you around. “There’s no time for me to be teasing you, no time at all. All I want to do is just fuck you.” He sighs, pushing your front flat back onto the side of the hood on the truck, kicking your legs apart till he thought it was good enough space for him. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, so good, you won’t be walking straight for weeks.” He promises, and you believe him. One thing he hasn’t made you do yet is beg, but, he knows that even with the state you are at right now, begging is what you will never do. With a gun to your head, or on the highest peak of pleasure, you don’t beg. “Now, scream my name.”

  He rams inside you, not allowing you to adjust. He starts a quick, punishing pace, hands gripping on your hips roughly. You’re assured there will be bruises in replacement of his fingertips, but, you’re loving every second of this. “Next time you decide to not listen to me,” He starts, leaning in to suck hickeys onto your neck, one after the other, “you remember me fucking you like this.” Mitch sinks his teeth into the hot skin of the crook of your neck, and you let out the loudest moan you have this entire time. His pace never quivers, and it remains hard and fast, his hips snapping against your ass mercilessly. His name leaves your lips like a prayer. A sudden slap causes you to jolt forward, followed by two more, blood rushing to your ass cheeks as his hands continue to take turns slapping your ass till the skin is as red as a cherry, maybe even till purple spots started to show. “Come babygirl. Come for me.” He huffs, a hand reaching around to cup your neck, squeezing firmly but not inflicting too much pain. His hips start to lose formation, now ramming into you sloppily, his tongue still working over your neck. And with a final thrust and slap against your ass, you come undone, and he does too soon after, pulling out and tugging rapidly over his cock till white spurts of his release paints your lower back.

  You’re both out of breath and out of energy, and he presses a hand on the car next to you, pulling himself together. “Holy fucking shit.” He says, beneath his breath, and you nod slightly, body trembling from the intensities it just endured. Mitch laughs tiredly, picking up his clothes and redressing himself, and soon helping you as well. His hands massage over the covered sore flesh of your ass, humming against your neck as he brings his lips back up to yours once more, this time more gently than before.

 “You still gonna fix the car?”

  “You know, after everything we just did, you still always go back to the same you.” Mitch retorts, removing himself from you and moving back to the hood of the truck, popping it open and sighing at the little progress he has made.

  “Ridiculous.” You mumble beneath your breath, a smile making its way onto your lips as you re-enter the car, waiting for Mitch to fix the truck and for the new changes about to come your way into your life. Maybe it was time to be a little nicer, a little more obedient. You shake your head as you peer back up at Mitch, still smiling. Never.

[savetopnow]

2018-03-29 20 CAR now

CAR

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[multimi-blog1]

Xiaomi Redmi 3S Prime Review

There has been stiff competition from the sub-Rs. 10,000 segment, and most of smartphones launched lately within this price band have great specifications. This year particularly has been a good website for Indian consumers trying to find budget phones, as companies are racing to make available more on the cheap.

Xiaomi, which includes had a great run inside the Indian smartphone market using the well-received Redmi Note 3 (Review) and Mi Max (Review), is maintaining the pace with a brand new smartphone priced below Rs. 10,000. The Xiaomi Redmi 3S and Xiaomi Redmi 3S Prime will be the company's latest tries to strengthen its position inside the segment, plus they both also tout the 'Made in India' label. Since its debut in India couple of years ago, Xiaomi has were able to earn a history of offering great smartphone hardware at cheap pricing, and the new models making the effort to stay true to that formula.

Both the Redmi 3S variants sport all-metal bodies and pack large batteries. We got our on the job the Redmi 3S Prime, which provides more RAM, more space for storage, plus a fingerprint scanner for any small price increase. Does the brand new Redmi 3S Prime offer great value, or can it just possibly be a smaller version in the Redmi Note 3? We try to learn in our review.

Look and feel

When we first saw the Xiaomi Redmi 3S Prime, it looks like a mini Redmi Note 3 from practically every angle. Xiaomi phones have learned to look quite similar in design. For the company, this might be a method to establish a linear look throughout its product portfolio but sadly and this Samsung did two years ago which consists of Galaxy smartphones, and now we weren't fans of the move for very long.

In this situation, the front with the Redmi 3S Prime is practically identical to that in the Xiaomi Redmi Note 3, apart from the placement on the sensors across the display. We get capacitive Home, Back, and Recents buttons right below the display, and also the sensors and front camera looking at either side on the earpiece just above it. To some extent, this phone also looks inspired with the Mi Max which features an immense 6.44-inch display. However at 8.5mm thick, the Redmi 3S Prime is not as sleek since the more premium Mi Max (Review) and that is just 7.5mm thick.

The rear panel packs the key camera featuring its LED flash, both placed within the upper right corner. The back even offers the fingerprint scanner placed inside the middle. There are thin lines running over the top and bottom with the back with the Redmi 3S Prime, which we've got also seen before about the Redmi Note 3 and Mi Max.

The speaker grille is a the bottom on the back. The physical buttons for volume and power are around the right, even though the hybrid SIM slot is for the left. The phone accepts one Micro-SIM and another Nano-SIM or microSD card for storage. Unfortunately, which means users should choose between an additional SIM plus a microSD card.

There is definitely an infrared emitter and also a 3.5mm audio jack about the top. The bottom features a standard Micro-USB port as well as a microphone. The Redmi 3S Prime sports an all-metal body meaning that the device itself feels premium regardless on the price tag it carries. At 144 grams, the Redmi 3S is slightly heavy to get a budget device, even so the curved sides help it become easy to grip. The extra weight can safely go down to the large battery in the smartphone.

One in the major differences between your Redmi 3S along with the Redmi 3S Prime will be the former doesn't such as a fingerprint scanner. The round sensor at the trunk is very easy to reach and utilize. During our review period, we'd no trouble unlocking it at any time while using the fingerprint scanner. The 5-inch screen makes this phone an easy task to use with one hand, and that is what we did most on the time. We discovered that typing was particularly comfortable.

The Xiaomi Redmi 3S Prime ships with power adapter, a SIM eject tool, along with an instruction leaflet. Just like the Redmi Note 3, the Redmi 3S gives bundled earphones a miss, that will be disappointing for a lot of buyers.

Specifications and software

Under the hood, the Redmi 3S and Redmi 3S Prime both pack the octa-core Qualcomm Snapdragon 430 (MMB29) processor, with four cores clocked at 1.1GHz and four cores at 1.4GHz, with an integrated Adreno 505 GPU. Apart through the fingerprint sensor, really the only differences involving the Xiaomi Redmi 3S and Redmi 3S Prime would be the amounts of RAM and storage. The Redmi 3S features 2GB of RAM with 16GB of inbuilt storage, as the Redmi 3S Prime has 3GB of RAM and 32GB of storage.

At time of their launch, Xiaomi claimed how the Redmi 3S and Redmi 3S Prime would be the first smartphones while using all-new new Snapdragon 430 SoC shipping in India. Both models support expandable storage having a microSD card (around 128GB).

The 5-inch IPS display carries a resolution of 720x1280 pixels. Our Redmi 3S Prime review unit's screen was vibrant with sunlight visibility not suffering whatsoever. Xiaomi's Sunlight Display hardware feature, that your Redmi Note 3 sports but is absent within this smartphone, might have further improved legibility under sunshine. The brightness levels within the Redmi 3S Prime were good and colours never looked oversaturated. The viewing angles about the Redmi 3S Prime were also decent as well as the display for parts was fairly sharp and reproduced accurate colours.

For connectivity, the Redmi 3S Prime (and Redmi 3S) support 4G with VoLTE, Wi-Fi 802.11 b/g/n, Bluetooth, GPS/A-GPS, Glonass, and Micro-USB. The Redmi 3S Prime is compatible with all LTE bands in India like the FDD LTE Band 3 and Band 5, and also TDD LTE Band 40. Xiaomi notes that after using two SIM cards within the Redmi 3S Prime simultaneously, the principal SIM will support 4G (calls and data) as you move the second SIM will support 3G only.

Another notable feature on the Redmi 3S Prime is its large 4100mAh battery. There's a 13-megapixel rear camera with features like PDAF (phase detection autofocus), f/2.0 aperture, HDR mode, 1080p video recording, plus an LED flash. You also have a 5-megapixel front-facing camera which assists to 1080p video recording.

The device runs MIUI 7.5 which can be based on Android 6.0.1 Marshmallow. The skin is really a slightly latest version of what came with all the Redmi Note 3. Unfortunately, you'll not see many Marshmallow features including Now on Tap. The company is anticipated to roll these characteristics out within the next MIUI release.

The dropdown shade is divided into app notifications and quick settings toggles, and thankfully it isn't really cluttered. The option to retort directly from an email notification is slightly confusing. In most Android Marshmallow phones, pulling on the notification expands it, but MIUI, users require to use two fingers, comparable to how you zoom in with an image. In our case, the vast majority of our efforts to expand the notification applying this gesture failed, and that we had to make use of both our hands to utilize it reliably. This was annoying at some level.

On long-pressing your home button, the device launches the Google Now cards automatically. Long pressing the Recents button at your home-screen offers options to add widgets, move icons, affect the wallpaper, and select from animation effects. The Child Mode previously seen about the Mi 5, Mi Max and Redmi Note 3 (Review) is additionally available.

As usual with Xiaomi phones, there isn't a app drawer and many types of icons are placed about the homescreens. Some in the pre-loaded apps include SwiftKey, Amazon, Amazon Kindle, WPS Office, Flipkart, and Facebook. There's also Theme Centre rendering it easy for users to turnover through new themes, wallpaper, and ringtones; Security, which clears RAM and allows you to manage installed apps; Mi Remote which will take advantage on the IR emitter to regulate appliances; and Mi Store, that you can buy more Xiaomi products.

Users get 5GB of free storage whenever they register for any Mi account. We were particularly surprised to discover some with the software enhancements through the premium Mi Max - such as one-handed mode and Quick Ball shortcut menu - included from the Xiaomi Redmi 3S Prime likewise. Both these functions were introduced for the Mi Max to simplify usage as it was included with a 6.44-inch display.

[realme5review-posts-blog]

Realme 5 review: Great design and versatile cameras

Realme 5 Review: The big picture The Realme 5 enters a fairly crowded segment. Between Xiaomi’s myriad options and the likes of Asus’ Zenfone series, Realme has made a mark for itself by stepping up the hardware game. Add to it a reasonably well polished software build and cameras that are a cut above the rest, and it’s no surprise the phones are extremely popular.

In fact, according to IDC, Realme garnered a respectable 7.7% of the market in India during the second quarter of 2019. This is no mean feat, given Xiaomi’s stronghold on the market and ample competition from the likes of Samsung, Oppo, and Vivo.

Design 164.4 x 75.6 x 9.3mm 198g Fingerprint reader Polycarbonate construction Design has always been a strong suite for Realme. The Realme 5 furthers that tradition with a beautiful diamond cut finish. While the finish isn’t quite as aggressive as on some previous devices, I feel the restraint works in its favour. Our unit is finished in a glittering blue that has an almost jewel-like appearance. Up top, you can find the quad camera module as well as the fingerprint reader The phone errs on the heavier side, but that can be attributed to the large battery. I suspect most people will be okay with the trade off. Build quality is generally solid and the buttons have a good feel to them. If I had to nitpick, the volume rockers are placed just a bit too close to each other, which made me fumble around when adjusting the volume when the phone was in my pocket.

Display 6.5 inches 1,600 x 720 HD+ 269ppi 20:9 aspect ratio Gorilla Glass 3 IPS LCD panel The Realme 5 trades screen size for resolution. Clocking in at 6.5-inches, the display is one of the largest in the sub-$150 segment, though the HD+ resolution doesn’t do it any favours. Text rendering, in particular, quickly reveals blurry edges and a distinct lack of sharpness. The default color profile has an obvious blue tinge to it and is far from neutral.

Performance Snapdragon 665 Adreno 610 3GB/4GB RAM 32GB, 64GB, or 128GB ROM The Snapdragon 665 on the Realme 5 is an interesting beast. Built on an 11nm process (compared to the 14nm process of the Snapdragon 660 of the Redmi Note 7S) you can expect to see some gains in battery life. On the other hand, the peak clock speed has been dropped a bit, which means that performance, at least in CPU benchmarks, isn’t quite as good as the 660. The improved GPU should, however, give a boost in gaming applications. All this to say that the Snapdragon 665 isn’t quite a performance leap forward and you should keep your expectations tempered.

Battery 5,000mAh No fast charging Micro-USB A key requirement for entry-level phones in India is tremendous battery life. It is no surprise that we are seeing a host of smartphones packing enormous 5,000mAh batteries. The Realme 5 is one such phone and, predictably, battery life is pretty darn great. Of course, there is a caveat here. The phone does not support fast-charging and topping off that huge battery takes an equally huge amount of time. You will have to put aside a little over 150 minutes for the phone to charge fully from scratch.

Software Love it or hate it, Color OS is what you get on Realme’s hardware. I find it odd that the company keeps flipping between different visual styles for notification shade toggles and iconography. The phone makes extensive use of white in its interface, a definite eyesore.

My biggest gripe with budget devices in general is the boatloads of pre-installed apps. The Realme 5 is no exception, and while most can be uninstalled, the ‘Hot Apps’ folder and its constantly refreshed list of apps cannot. Beyond that, however, this is a fairly typical budget smartphone from a Chinese manufacturer. It comes with the standard range of customisation options, including gestures, a floating convenience key, and the magazine-style lock screen that constantly refreshes the wallpaper.

Camera Rear: Standard: 12MP, f/1.8 Ultrawide: 8MP, f/2.2 Depth sensor: 2MP, f/2.4 Macro: 2MP, f/2.4 Front: Standard: 13MP, f/2.0 4K at 30FPS Realme has been delivering the goods as far as camera quality is concerned and the Realme 5 keeps pace for the most part. Images look pretty good, but have a bit too much sharpening. This isn’t particularly noticeable on the phone’s display, but enlarged on a monitor and you can easily spot the processing.

Audio The Realme 5’s single speaker turned out to be sufficiently loud for blasting some music or for taking a call. Quality isn’t particularly great. There is no bass here, but the audio doesn’t crackle unless you crank the volume up to the maximum level. I would say the Realme 5’s speaker performance is in line with most of its competitors.

Realme 5 review: The verdict The Realme 5 is a good package that redefines what you can get in an entry-level smartphone. Between the top-tier build quality, the versatile camera, and a solid hardware package, it’s hard not to get excited about this smartphone.

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10+ Free ‘Random Background Turbines’ for Graphic and Internet Designers

5/5 (5)

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Trianglify Generator

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Go to the Demo   View on GitHub

Trianglify Background Generator

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Geopattern

To start with was the phrase. And now you can also create one thing stunning utilizing your phrase as a instrument – due to Geopattern. This easy script generates seamless geometric patterns from a string utilizing 16 shapes and limitless colours. The ensuing patterns which may be saved in PNG format.

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Delaunay Triangle Sample Maker

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Colourful CSS Gradient Background Generator

Our subsequent generator is indispensable for net and app designers, particularly for these, who work with iOS, because it permits you to create stunning gradient backgrounds on fly.

The sweetest factor about this instrument is that it robotically generates the CSS code for the gradients it creates. The downside is that you just acquire solely the code on the output, so if you’ll use it elsewhere than the online you’ll need a separate script or software to salvage the raster photographs. We suggest utilizing Phantom.JS for this objective: it requires a sure stage of coding talent, however is versatile sufficient to deal with this process.

Go to the Demo   View on GitHub

Distinctive Gradient Generator

This instrument is ready to create summary blurred backgrounds from any picture. It takes a tiny space of the uploaded photographs (e.g. 7×3 pixels) and blurs it past recognition, equally to the ‘Gaussian blur’ impact in Adobe Photoshop. Backgrounds created with the Distinctive Gradient Generator have a grungier look in comparison with actually random ones.

This generator comes with a library of 33 ready-to-use photographs, however you possibly can add your individual supply information. The outcomes can be found both as raster photographs, or as CSS code.

Go to the Demo   View on GitHub

Materials Design Background Generator

Materials design development launched by Google is on the peak of recognition. With the assistance of this one-click script, you possibly can generate a whole bunch of distinctive material-styled wallpapers. A few of them are pretty weird, whereas some are actually wonderful. It’s going to take a while to encounter a usable one, however that is the worth of randomness.

Sadly, this venture shouldn’t be represented on GitHub, however you possibly can obtain the script from its homepage, tune it up a bit, and create your individual homebrewed materials backgrounds.

Go to the Demo   View the Script

Okay’s Watercolor Background Picture Generator

This script provides you a hand an including a hand-crafted pseudo-watercolor contact to your designs. The backgrounds created with the assistance of this generator are fashioned by circles of various sizes, so they don’t seem to be actually ‘watercolor’ within the standard that means of the phrase.

To generate a background you’ll want to specify the variety of circles and their dimension, generate new chromatic colour info (i.e. the palette), and click on on the canvas. The identical approach you possibly can add new layers as a way to modify the look of your picture.

Go to the Demo   View on GitHub

Random Sample Generator by Codegena

This one is so simple as such factor solely might be. You simply kind the scale you want in pixels into the right bars and hit the “New” button. The result’s proven because the background to that web site, so you possibly can see what it’s going to seem like straight away. The image is mixed of a variety of geometric figures of various colour and dimension. A lot of the variants are usually not actually stunning, however after a dozen clicks, yow will discover some that can suit your wants.

Go to the Demo

Random Pixel Background

IMGonlone provides guests a variety of instruments to work with the JPEG photographs, equivalent to resizing, conversion or compression instruments. One among them is random pixel background generator. The utilization of it’s actually slim, a uncommon web site proprietor want to put a various image within the background (it’s a actual burst of colours and may look slightly… nicely, an excessive amount of). Nonetheless, in case you had been in search of such a brilliant resolution, this generator might be an actual treasure crate. You select the scale of the image and squares, file format and high quality after which hit “OK” button. You can be redirected to the web page the place you get a possibility to preview the picture and obtain it.

Go to the Demo

Zen BG

TRY

BACKGROUND GENERATOR

TRY

BGPatterns

TRY

Behind the Scenes

There are a lot of extra related instruments, however they’re both not random, tougher to make use of, or are usually not very appropriate for net and graphic designers. Anyway, they’re worthy of a particular point out, and we hope one can find them helpful.

Random.org – This web site is a one-stop-shop for all issues random. In contrast to mills based mostly on algorithms, it takes its randomness from atmospheric noise (no matter it’s). Its prospects are usually not restricted by producing numbers and sequences – it will probably decide random colours on your inspiration as nicely. A lot of the providers on random.org are free.

Materials Design Emblem Generator – This ultra-useful on-line instrument is meant to compose material-looking CSS icons and logos based mostly on the Font Superior icon font. All you need to do is to select one of many icons, modify its dimension and colour, apply shadows, around the corners, and duplicate the ensuing CSS code, which may be embedded into your net pages.

Colour Palette Turbines – The gathering of colour palette pickers featured on this submit will certainly ginger up your inventive considering.

BGPatterns – Top-of-the-line methods to create seamless patterns is by utilizing this easy free instrument. Simply add your graphic components, place them on the canvas, scale and rotate, after which obtain your sample.

Emblem Turbines – If you’ll want to create a emblem actually rapidly this gallery of emblem creating instruments will allow you to with this process.

Low-Poly Turbines – We have now talked about a few of the triangulators right here, however there are extra of them over the online. See the entire checklist of such instruments within the respective submit on our weblog.

Wrapping Up

These had been the very best of the very best amongst random mills for designers. In case you ever want a colourful background, featured picture on your weblog, or a classy button, bear in mind that you may create it by your self very quickly.

What about you? Do you employ any automation, or do you favor to work out your designs from scratch? Inform us within the feedback under.

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source https://webart-studio.com/10-free-random-background-turbines-for-graphic-and-internet-designers/

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F Pace Jaguar 2019 Exterior, Concept, Wallpaper, Specs & Spy photos

F Pace Jaguar 2019 Exterior, Concept, Wallpaper, Specs & Spy photos

The F Pace Jaguar 2019 continues to offer top safety scores, remarkable space inside, and all-round versatility; it’s still one of the best small SUVs, and a good value for money.

F Pace Jaguar 2019 Specs

The F Pace Jaguar 2019 isn’t close to luxurious, but it’s hard to beat for interior space to hold both people and their gear. The F Pace Jaguar 2019 offers a pleasantly high driving position,…