#the red tape and white lie blues

[leonsdolly]

Wicked Game

Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon leaves you for her, and you're not sure what to do now.

CW: nsfw 18+, infidelity, angst, suicidal thoughts, comparing yourself to her, masturbation, mentions of p in v

WC: 1.5k

“What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you…” You murmur along to the melancholy words that are floating around your room like butterflies. Actually, more like flies nearing the end of their life span - movement transitioning from an erratic flight to a lazy, almost purposeless dwindle until they’re on their backs with their legs sticking up in the air. That’s exactly how you are now that Leon’s done with you. A dead fly - no one could save me but you. Chris Isaak gets it. He gets it so well that he’s been looping for God knows how long.

Was it only last week that Leon left you for the ghost from his past? The one in red, haunting him in ways that you were oblivious to. Always bleeding red, like Bloody Mary or something. Maybe it was better if you’d feigned ignorance to the evidence. Maybe you’d still be able to call him yours if you played your role of a cross-eyed Mary jumping right into his arms with no protests, always playing it clean.

It was all because of a letter that was carefully tucked away in his desk drawer, folded and sealed with a kiss. No, literally a kiss. The bitch left her lipstick imprint in lieu of her signature. YSL, shade R1. You’d always been a Dior girl anyway. 

You swore up and down that you weren’t purposely snooping through his belongings, that you were just looking for Scotch tape. The offensive document shook in your hand as you fearfully inquired about its contents. He was stuttering and ashamed and apologetic and all the things a good man is when he’s sinned. He let you cry and scream and sink to your knees with your head in your hands like you were never going to come back up, like you could die in this position and be encased in marble. A new weeping angel.

You know in your heart that you could never equate to her in his eyes. The knowledge that he’s probably been comparing you to her throughout your relationship makes you so damn ill. Maybe you should slit your own throat in front of him and let the crimson flow over your body so you can match with her. Bleeding red all over the place, letting him see nothing but that cursed color, the way he did all those years ago in the city where it all started. The way he’d still continued to do so after meeting you and promising all sorts of things you weren’t accustomed to hearing. You suppose you can’t fault him completely, it wasn’t like he intended on hurting you; he’d tried to overcome his adversities and forge a new home for himself, one that was pink and frilly and covered him in glossy kisses after a long day at work. But ultimately, it wasn’t enough. His allegiance lay with first red, then white, then blue. 

You just miss him so damn much. You’re desperate enough for him that if he were to walk through the door right now, you’d take him back in a heartbeat. Sure, maybe you’d have difficulty meeting his eyes for a while, deep pools, murky with guilt and who knows what else. Your vision would be limited to the freckles on his neck, the ones resembling a vampire bite, but that’s alright with you. You’re familiar with the area, having kissed it so many times. You shouldn't be thinking about those little spots or anything else about him for that matter. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it. With her. Pressed up against her with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. Oh God, now you're the one seeing red. Is there really such a thing as a red string tying two people together, keeping them bound for eternity? Hopefully not, because you're nauseous at the concept that it's always been her. She was right there beside his former bright eyed and bushy-tailed self, the version that had a vague understanding of how the world worked, before he was your solemn Leon. They trudged through the abyss together, leaning on one another for strength in the midst of a plague. You wish God would just deliver armies of locusts to devour you and him and her and the rest of the world. The end is here anyway now that he isn’t. 

Your last memory of him is that pitiful look in his eyes as he gazes at you one more time. You said I was your baby. He said a lot of things, promised you the world, and look how things turned out. It’s sickening really, how cruel fate can be. Was this fate? You’re going to tie their disgusting red string around your neck and squeeze until your head pops off like a rocket. A blazing glory, capable of stealing his attention.

The thoughts of needing to be better so that he’d be with you again swirls around in your brain, filling up your entire being until you can’t bear it any longer. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to put a ring on your finger and give you his babies and hold you close on your deathbed. Your hand twitches, muscle memory activated from all the times you slipped your hand into his, anchoring you to him. I’m so sorry… Ada and I… We’ve been through a lot together. You can’t take this anymore. But I love you more than anything in the whole world… How am I supposed to live without you? He never did give you a proper response to that, silence encompassing the air between you.

You shuffle to the bottom drawer of your dresser and fish out a wrinkled shirt that had been shoved towards the very back, away from prying eyes - navy blue with the letters “RPD” emblazoned in white across the front. You slip it on and inhale the fabric draped over your frame, protecting you, hugging you as you crawl back into your bed. His arms really were the loveliest place to be. Firm and gentle, wrapped around your torso like your very own bullet vest. Shielding you from horrors you would never have to experience, he’d make sure of that. Or at least he had, anyway. His lingering scent fills your senses like whispers in an abandoned chapel. Something familiar, a sense of comfort in your hollowed out state. It takes over your grief for a second, and when you shut your eyes tight, everything is alright again.

You yearn to hold onto this feeling, but it dissipates once your eyes open, and you're isolated yet again. Your bottom lip trembles as you squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, gripping onto the hem of his shirt. His arms are around you again, and the smell of him is welcomed. It elicits a natural response from your body, begging for his touch, forming a silent prayer to any divinity who will listen. Your thighs involuntarily part as you reminisce on the feeling of his face in between them, tongue lapping at everything you have to offer. Whimpers fall from your lips as your other hand travels down to slowly stroke your clit the way he used to do it. There’s my baby. You’re his baby, still so good for him. You rub your clit faster and faster as the hand that was clutching onto his shirt for dear life comes up to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples. 

You realize that tears have been running down your flushed cheeks as you grind down onto your fingers faster in an effort to chase your high. Just like that… Sweet baby, my sweet baby. 

He's probably fucking her at this exact moment. Cock buried miles deep inside her perfect cunt, perky tits bouncing at every thrust while she moans for him. You’re going to blow your brains out. What kind of sounds does she make when she’s getting the railing of a lifetime? Something more refined than your own little whines. Is she kissing those precious freckles on his neck, giving them all the attention they could ever ask for as he lets out his own delicious noises? You weep as you continue to rub your clit while slick leaks from your neglected pussy, begging for only him to fill it up.

You’re sobbing as you feel the release building up in your core, and you're bawling as you feel your pussy clamp around the ghost of his cock. You let out a cry of both pleasure and agony as you frantically cum all over your fingers. My perfect baby.

Shallow pants escape you as you simply lay motionless, eyes trained fixedly on the ceiling of your melancholy prison. You shakily bring your other hand up to wipe away the tears that have forged new paths for themselves on your cheeks and down to your pillowcase. I love you. You’ll always be my girl.

This world is only gonna break your heart. How are you supposed to live without him? Nobody loves no one. Chris Isaak needs to shut up.

[keerysfreckles]

secret - peter parker (tasm)

pairing: tasm!peter x f!reader

summary: peter goes to y/n, his best friends twin sister, to help patch up his wounds.

warnings: use of y/n and she!her pronouns, maybe two swear words, small makeout seshhh

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

y/n wasn't doing anything unusual on her saturday night. she always watched a movie before falling asleep so tonight was no different while high school musical was displayed on the tv in her bedroom.

however the only difference tonight was a knocking sound came from her bedroom window. y/n, now confused, walked towards the sound and opened the curtain. she was most certainly taken aback by the brunette boy crouching on her fire escape.

"peter? what the hell are you doing here?" y/n asks while opening her window. the question having two meanings; why peter was in her room, or why peter was on her fire escape. she's quiet with helping peter threw the small window, not wanting her brother to hear from the room next to hers.

"i'm supposed to hang out with josh, but-" before peter finishes his sentence he lifts his shirt, revealing three giant gashes across his torso. y/n gasps before covering her mouth.

"peter what happened?"

"i uh- tripped?" he simply shrugs it off before sitting at the foot of the bed. he places his backpack down and is quick to zip it up, encasing the red and blue fabric inside.

"just stay here," y/n starts to walk to her bedroom door, "and please dont make any noise."

peter only laughs, at y/n's words and the disney musical playing on her tv. his head turns as y/n walks back inside with a white box. peter guesses it's a first aid kit.

y/n walks around the boy, and sits on his right side. "lay down," y/n instructs. peter obeys, as he lays back on the comforter. his eyes watch the slow moving ceiling fan to distract him from the cold wipes y/n uses to wipe the excess blood off of his skin.

"sorry," y/n whispers, and peter lets out a small response, before grimacing again.

"how did this even happen?" y/n asks, while starting to patch up the open wounds with gauze and medical tape.

peter doesn't respond at first, as he's not entirely sure if he should lie or tell the girl the truth. her own brother doesn't even know about peter's secret.

"pete?" y/n voice is softer than before, and she looked him in the eyes now. she had just finished patching up the third and final wound.

peter sits up slightly and leans on his elbows. "can i tell you something?"

y/n simply nods and watches peter take a deep breath.

"do you ever notice how i disappear a lot whenever i hang out with you and josh?"

y/n nods again.

"it's not because i have catchup homework or i remembered aunt may needed something," peter looked up at y/n, before taking in another breath. "i'm spiderman."

"what?" peter could barely hear y/n's voice, but he could certainly hear the confusion.

peter gets off the bed and hands the girl his backpack. she only looks at him once before unzipping it. a small gasp leaves her lips when she pulls out a red and blue spandex suit.

"so you're really spiderman," y/n looks over the suit.

she looks up at peter who only responds with a dopey half-smile, which only makes her laugh. "how did this even happen?" she asks, and refers to the suit in her hands.

"i was sorta bitten by a radioactive spider at the place gwen used to work at," peter explains.

"wait so what exactly did that do?" y/n's genuine curiosity shocks peter. he was mostly worried she'd never want to talk to him again, or freak out and tell her brother.

peter rolls the sleeves up of his longsleeve shirt and shows the girl the black bands on his wrists. he chuckles as her eyebrows furrow. peter simply shoots a web towards the backpack on the bed, and is quick to hold it in his hand.

he chuckles again at y/n's reaction. "holy shit!" y/n's jaw is to the floor as she's amazed by the boy in front of her. "what else can you do?"

once again, peter lets out a laugh, before he drops the backpack on the ground. y/n watches peter stand on her bed and jump. his hand touches the ceiling which leaves the boy hanging there. y/n laughs before covering her mouth and watches peter bring his other limbs up as he starts to crawl on her ceiling.

"that's so cool!" y/n exclaims while peter lands on his feet with a thud.

y/n stands with the first aid kit to put it back in the bathroom, however she feels a small tug at the back of her shirt.

"i can also do this," peter states, before y/n twirls back towards peter until she's right in front of him. she looks down at the white stringy web now wrapped around her waist.

before she can get a single word out, peter's lips meet hers. his hands hold her waist until one moves to cup her cheek. after y/n's first reaction of shock fades away, her hands rest on peter's shoulders, before her hands interlock behind his neck.

the kiss is quick to heaten up. peter moves y/n to her bed and leans her down, with him hovering over her. y/n's hands are now on peter's jaw as she caresses over his skin, and peter feels nothing but butterflies in his stomach.

much to the two teenagers dismay, they pull away from each slightly and both catch their breath.

both y/n and peter's heads turn at the sound of a rattling doorknob. peter's quick to lock it as he shoots a web across the room.

"y/n?" josh calls from the other side of the door. "i heard a loud thud from my room. you okay?"

y/n's eyes scan her floor and she internally groans at herself for dropping the first aid kit from earlier.

she's quick to come up with a lie, "yeah i uh- just dropped my history books."

y/n's shoulders relax as josh responds, "oh okay, just checking."

as soon as josh's door closing could be heard from y/n's room, peter questions, "where were we?"

[chaotic-minds-think-alike]

Guess what time it is…….

CENTIPEDE TIME !!! she’s finally real,,,,,,,, based off Scolopendra hardwickei or the Indian tiger centipede

Before I go about the process I just want to say you guys have been soooo incredible and I love reading your reblogs and I love the idea knowing I’ve inspired a lot of people,,, the project, although it was a lot of work and I’m feeling not so great as of posting this, still motivates me to want to make another.

(Art process below)

This was entirely freehanded! I have a lot of experience working in 3D art settings that this part came easy to me but I started with a flat base shaped in the pose I’d like the creature in. I used one whole piece cut from a shipping box and filled in the gaps with tape; you don’t need a single piece for the base but for structural integrity it helps a lot. As you can see here I also cut the legs separate and glued them on using hot glue. The vertical cross sections are to give an early support for the structure of the creature, think about the frames of aircraft or boats. During this part I used a pen to mark the width and height of the previous section to get a gradual flow of shapes.

This next part I wish I got more documentation on but after the vertical cross sections I used soda boxes for the thinner and flexible cardboard to add contour lines along the length of the creature, gluing them on the cross sections. I did about 2 strips of this on either side to fill in the space and then I continued to use soda boxes to fold and shape the top of the creature, gluing onto the strips rather than the cross sections (this part was a mistake but I quickly adapted, no issues happened but it did make it slightly less secure). I also gave the legs vertical cross sections as well to shape them for the masking tape.

The worst part, taping everything. I used tape to further shape it how I wanted but that meant going over parts several times. I used 2 different widths of tape for this for efficiency but it doesn’t matter. The legs were very loosely taped and if squeezed then they’d lose their shape; I didn’t bother filling them in because I don’t have materials for that and I let the paper mache help support them instead. Tape was also used to fill any holes and gaps left by the cardboard skeleton.

The next phase is paper mache of which I haven’t done since 5th grade… I was not confident in this step. I used mod podge and a brush to smooth down the paper. Because I lacked materials I used fast food napkins instead of newspaper which worked totally fine, it just tended to tear a bit easier. Some areas required me to get hands on and I don’t really like the texture during this stage so that was fun (lie). I didn’t do too many layers, one for the body and 3 for the back and legs but some projects might demand more. I used half of a 16oz bottle of mod podge btw so please get more than you think you need.

Finally, texture hell!!! I did a base coat of white spray paint and painted everything else with acrylic. Start with your lighter colors first before doing darker ones! I originally mixed some yellow and orange for the body and realized it was too bright and so covered it with orange instead. It also wasn’t until later I realized I could’ve been smarter with my paint so I skipped over the segments that were going to be fully black, saving the orange for the rest of the body. I wanted my centipede to stand out and not look 2D color-wise so I also used the red for the head and tail to give gradients and edges to the orange segments and legs, later going back with burgundy to further darken them but not too much. For the black segments I also used a very watered down layer of sky blue to give a fake shine and show the intended structure of the segments. Do not be afraid to use your hands! I used mine to smudge my detail paints like the black fade on the legs and the back shading. To top it all off I sprayed a clear coat and punched two holes in the underside to hang it up, using thumbtacks angled upwards.

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 8

¡Sorpresa, cabronas! Blue Beauty Anin is back in the palace, and she is already causing issues for her color-coded brothers!

And for her Pink Person Pin!

So as much as I appreciate Anin being so focused on her studies, because she wanted to graduate early, I'm glad Pin called her out for not communicating and thinking this surprise would make her forget that she was basically ignored FOR MONTHS!

But thankfully Anin knows how to make it up to her (in bed) (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!)

And now they can be color-coded girls in love and live happily ever after! Yes? YES!

Well, that's until Anin's color-coded brothers tell her she needs to start thinking about getting married . . . to a man.

But because this a GL, like queer magic, all the girls start showing up to Anin's yard for her milkshake like her sister-in-law with her sister, who just happens to be the girl who tried to assault Anin in her bed.

But nobody cares because Anin's color-coded brother and aunt (WHO IS WEARING PURPLE!) are planning a formal welcome back party for Anin which will literally bring all the girls to her yard for her milkshake (and other treats).

Anin is less than thrilled believing this is a ploy to get her to meet marriage prospects, but her brother promises that isn't what is happening.

All color-coded royals do is lie.

But our boy Pranot is going to make this party spectacular even if he has to hot glue and duct tape everything together by himself, and this is not me stereotyping the gays, but . . . . . . he has to be gay because only a gay man or a pageant mom could turn it out like this with such short notice.

So Pranot creates a party fit for color-coded royals overnight.

And the aunt, who is in her color (finally!) has the food covered.

But she can't stay, because she has a guest, in her house, waiting for her. *whispers* lesbian shenanigans are afoot

And to nobody's surprise, marriage prospects are at this party and lined up IN RED to greet our Blue Beauty. I know Pranot sent them a detailed document outlining the dress code, so if they were paying any attention, they would've known to wear BLUE to impress the princess and not RED to impress her siblings. Who do they want to marry?! Apparently not our lesbian!

Then Aon shows up looking like her and her sister thought this was a costume party and they are an orange and a cherry, which means the only time we have seen Aon is pink is when she was trying to slide into Anin's bed, and now she is on my list!

Sidenote: Is the brother's fiancée May from My Marvellous Dream is You and The Sign?! How did I miss that?! Obviously the outfit is doing it's job because it made me notice her in a room full of other beautiful women, so I'll quit hating on these fruity outfits now.

Actually, I won't because it's clear to me the two oranges from the orange tree belong together, so if Kuea really doesn't care about marrying a lesbian since he wants to Pin so badly, why not just marry another lesbian named Aon? Makes color-coded sense to me!

But then there is the issue of my babygirl Ueangfah who also showed up to Anin's yard party for her milkshake.

But I think I have someone for her too! It's not a color-coded match, but it could be a lavender marriage!

The queers have been doing it for centuries. Just getting married and throwing amazing garden parties. Fun times!

But Anin, in her pretty blue dress had too much fun being possessive of Pin because she was getting a little unwanted attention from a man when ALL OF THESE WOMEN WERE BASICALLY HAND-FEEDING ANIN FOOD AND THEIR BODIES ALL NIGHT! (I'm a little peeved at Anin, pero whatevs). So Pin, in her lovely purple and pink dress, has to drag her girlfriend home which is luckily across the lawn.

And because Anin is westernized now, she is white girl wasted, meaning she wants to make out with her girl anywhere and everywhere because eff decorum!

So Pin has to tie her up with a blue piece of fabric. (Where did this come from?!)

But it isn't for safety reasons. No! It's for ~kinky~ reasons.

And in the midst of some delightful girl-on-girl action, we get the rudest flashback to Anin's older brother checking on Anin since he was worried about her drinking, yet stumbling upon her exchanging colors and tongues with Pin, you know, like the French do.

So the episode ends with him finally realizing the big secret that everyone has been keeping from him including the servants -

He was the only straight person at that party tonight.

[normansnt]

The tailor (sanji x male tailor! Reader)

Warnings: the reader cuts himself with scissors. I don't know if thats a warning but yeah.

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

The strawhats docked at another island for the logpose to reset. As usual everyone went their way. And Sanji obviously went with Robin and Nami clothe shopping to carry their bags.

They were walking around town when they spotted a shop standing alone. It wasn't too big nor small. The first thing that someone felt when they saw it was calmness. It was a cozy little store. First Nami wanted to ignore it due to its simple looks. But Robin felt like the little shop had great things to offer.

"I find it rather adorable, I wouldn't mind going in" said Robin in a calm voice.

"Well all right we have time after all" gave in Nami looking at the log pose. Sanji didn't say anything but he had a little cheer in his mind that the girls decided to go in.

It was a small shop with unique and beautiful clothes put on display. The closer they got the clearer they could see how amazing the clothes put on display in the shop window were.

When they stepped into the shop the little bell over the door gave a light "ting" sound letting whoever was in there know that they had entered. The smell of lavender greeted them. The shop was only slightly bigger on the inside then it looked from outside, but it was not too small as though not having enough space.

Two clothing racks stood in the middle and if you walked to the other side of the store three mirrors greeted you with a small stage in front and a table besides them. The walls, which had clothes hanging on racks neatly organized, had a comforting light blue color. There was also a staircase leading to a door, a closed door so they had no idea what was behind it.

"Aughh damn it" came from behind the closed door.

"I will be down in a minute" yelled a mans voice.

Nami and Robin started looking around while waiting for whoever it was behind that door to come down, Sanji kept analyzing the place. All though he had to lie if he said that the clothed there didn't catch even his attention.

They seem to have been made with utmost care due to every stitch being very clean and the pieces of fabric complimented each other well very well.

The door opened suddenly and a man not much younger then Sanji stepped out. He had a big smile on his face and glasses on his nose which were held together by duct tape.

The man had h/c h/l hair and e/c eyes. These looked lovely with his s/c skin. He was a handsome man by the looks of it and based on his outfit he knew his way around clothing as well. He was wearing a white button up shirt with brown suit pants which had red squares detailed on it, around his neck was a tape measure and on his middle finger a thimble showing that he in fact made these clothes with his own hands. To top it off on his feet were black loafers, he looked very sheik.

"Oh hello" greeted Robin politely "are you alright we heard cursing before?" Asked the raven haired women kindly.

"Oh, I apologize for that, I was just cutting some fabric and the bell startled me so I cut into my finger a bit" smiled the man sheepishly while holding up his index finger which was bandaged all the way.

"Must have been a deep cut" muttered Sanji.

"Anyway I apologize again, what can I help you with ladies and gentleman?" Said the man while flashing a big smile. 'Adorable' thought Sanji, his smile had a child like innocence to it and the glint in his e/c eyes made it all the more sweeter- what? Since when did Sanji think like this about a man? He admits when a man is handsome, of course, but he never went into detail describing his attraction towards one- attraction? What is going on today?

"And for you sir?" Asked the man who he still didn't know the name of because he wasn't paying attention to the conversation he was having with the girls, who, disappeared,now realized Sanji. The man must have noticed his confusion so he said hastily

"The ladies went to try one some pieces" said the clothing shop owner while pointing at a door beside the three mirrors on the opposite side to the little table.

"And my previous question was if you are looking for any clothing?" Said the man smiling kindly. Sanji didn't want to be rude he wanted to get the handsome mans name at least.

"Please excuse me but I seem to have zoned out previously, do you mind telling me your name?" Asked Sanji red in the face.

"Oh no problem, of course, my name is Y/N L/N it is a pleasure to meet you" smiled Y/N while putting his hand out for Sanji to shake. He did just that while introducing himself as well.

"So are you looking for any clothing? I can tell by what you are wearing that you know a thing or too about fashion" he flashed his handsome smile again.

It was true Sanji did put a bit more care into what he was wearing than oder man but compared to Y/N he probably couldn't tell the difference between velvet and chiffon.

"Oh no, thank you, Im just here to carry the ladies shopping bags and assist them any way they need" smiled back Sanji. All though he liked the clothes in this shop, he didn't want to waste money, not to mention it was hard to find something that fit him because of his build, he was skinny but very muscular at the same time.

"Are you sure? I can tailor something for you as well" said the man hopefully.

Sanji saw the glint in his eyes, it looked similar to when he was about to cook a new meal or try a new recipe. Passion, passion for ones work. Sanji liked that about Y/N he seemed very eager to work, just like him. Also the thought of having his own tailored suit sounded lovely for Sanji. Finally something that fits perfectly.

"I actually think that's a really good idea Sanji you have been wearing the same suit for forever" Said Nami suddenly standing beside Sanji. She walked out of the fitting room with the clothes she wants to buy in her hand just a minute ago. Sanji didn't notice her walking out. But how could that happen? Sanji not noticing Nami? Its true he was focusing on Y/N but not this hard! Right?

"Yes, getting a new suit might actually be useful but I don't want to waste money that could be spent on food Nami-san" said Sanji.

"Its not a waste of money its clothes, we have enough money for food, its just one suit it cant even be that much money" said Nami looking at Y/N hopefully.

"Oh no its 50 berry" Said Y/N hoping they are ok with that price. Nami's eyes turned into berry icons showing how happy she is that she will be saving this much money.

Y/Ns clothes had amazing quality and were cheap as well. This showed how kind the male was he never thought much of money. He just sold his clothes to make people happy and of course he needed to eat something.

"Very well," gave in Sanji "I would love to have you tailor me suit" finished Sanji smiling at Y/N.

"All right we will leave you to it then" said Robin also coming out of the fitting rooms. And with that the girls paid for the clothes they wanted and left. Weirdly enough, Sanji didn't mind this, of course it would be amazing to spend more time with the lovely ladies of the strawhat crew but staying alone with Y/N was an idea he didn't oppose of.

While Y/N was taking his measurements Sanji could feel his hands touching his body slightly. Y/Ns feather light touch left goosebumps on Sanjis skin for some reason even though it was only through fabric.

Naw, Sanji was no fool. He has noticed in the past that Ladies are not the only ones who capture his attention, he wanted to sleep with man as well in fact.

However what Y/N was doing to him was completely new. The man made Sanji flustered and now he understood those butterflies in the stomach everyone was talking about. They had just met but Sanji was smitten. Even more so when they started talking, while Y/N was making his suit.

"Yeah, I love cooking Im not really good at it though" said Y/N a little red in the face. "The last time I tried to make breakfast I left the omelette on the stove because I got distracted and well lats just say I had to get a new kitchen." Smiled the e/c eyed male sheepishly. Sanji loved when he smiled like that it was rather adorable.

"I can teach you if you like" said Sanji perhaps a little fast. Y/N stopped his movements and looked at Sanji with a slightly red face and a small smile

"You would do that? Thats so kind but you guys will only be on this island for so long Im afraid we don't have time, I mean pirates have to move right?"

The interesting thing about this sentence is that Sanji never mentioned that they were pirates. That means Y/N must have known the entire time. And yet... and yet he was this nice to them showing nothing but kindness. Thats it, he had to have you, at least on the crew.

"Well... we don't have a tailor on our ship yet..." started Sanji hopefully. At this point he didn't care if you couldn't fight he would protect you, he didn't care he has to clear things with Luffy he will threaten to not give him food for a week.

"Oh, Im sorry, I would not be a good pirate, I hate fighting..."

"You don't have to I'll protect you" Y/N smirked a little bit. "I didn't say I couldn't protect myself I just said I hate fighting, lets just say me and fighting have a...problematic past." Y/N was searching for the right words. "You see if I were to be a pirate they would find me and well I do not fancy that" smiled Y/N embarrassed hoping Sanji wouldn't question him further.

"They? Who is they is someone after you?" Sanji was shocked. You, an innocent angel, had a past with fighting? Not to mention someone was after you?

Y/N was contemplating what to do. On one hand he trusted Sanji even though they had just met he took a liking to the blond. But he is risking a great deal if he finds out about his past.

Oh what the hell he has been in hiding till now even if Sanji decides to hold this against him he can just flee.

"Sanji have you heard about Ciper pol?" What? Yes he had he fought them not long ago...where is this going?

"More specifically Cp9?" Oh no, what is Y/N about to say?

"I was part of them" there it is, exactly what Sanji feared. "Im not anymore, I fled, they raised me to be a monster who knows nothing outside of fighting, but thats not me, I hate fighting, I decided to flee not long after an old lady showed me how to sow" a sad smile spread on Y/Ns face. "She thought me in thanks for not killing her family, I was supposed to kill them. Thats why after I stayed with them for a long time and she thought me how to make clothes I ran away and lived in hiding since then"

There it was, out in the open. Now Sanji can run away, make a disgusted face, curse him. These are the reactions he got before this.

But instead Sanji took out a cigarette and lit it up. He took a drag and then said

"My crew just fought Cp9 not long ago" Y/Ns eyes widened 'and they are still alive??' "In fact we declared a war against the government, then won the fight against them." Sanji looked at Y/N who's expression showed absolute shock.

"Listen it doesn't matter how your story begins you had no say in that, your decision afterwards matter. And you fled, you ran away from that horrible life and that was your decision and that shows the person you really are--" before Sanji could finish his sentence Y/N was clinging to him, hugging him with almost unbearable strength, almost. "Thank you..." whispered the slightly shorter male.

He meant thank you for them defeating his past comrades, Sanji knew that. He hugged back. It was a very comfortable hug, Y/N smelled like clean clothes and lavender, just like his shop.

After hugging for a good two minutes Y/N pulled away.

"I'm sorry its just... they deserved it" chuckled Y/N slightly "they needed an ass whopping to get them in the right mind just a little" continued Y/N while taking the cigarette from Sanjis hands and taking a drag. "Fuck I needed that".

Sanji got tomato read. The way Y/N inhaled the deadly chemical and then tilted his had back to blow it out. His adams apple visible and his neck exposed.

"Anyway where is this pirate crew who declared a war on the government? The handsome cook said they needed a tailor I would like to check it out" smiled Y/N kindly again. Sanji got even redder. This is going to be interesting

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

WHAAAAA- two posts on one day😗

I told you my next fic is gonna be a Sanji fic😍

I tried to not like this man due to his pervert behavior but I just have to end up falling for him🙃

ANYWAYS I love how this fic turned out I tried to make it longer now, and I successfully did so, Im happy🥳

I hope you guys like it Im sorry for any grammatical mistakes I made if I did please correct me🙏

Well, I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentlemen and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🧡🦖

[upsidedownwithsteve]

The Eddie blurb day is such a cute idea! Thoughts on "sunshine"?

“You’re gonna toast yourself.”

Eddie had made a face, nose wrinkled, eyes shut against the sun, tongue poking out at you in defiance.

“M’fine. I have like, factor twenty on. S’nice, I like the sun.”

You snorted, pushing a finger tip into the soft of his bare tummy, raising your brows at how warm his skin was already. “Yeah, but the sun doesn’t like you, handsome.”

Eddie had frowned, dramatic and offended. “Rude.”

So you left him poolside in Steve’s backyard with the rest of the boys for a couple of hours, warning him he’d burn if he didn’t move into the shade.

Three hours later, he waddled out to your car to meet you, his skin various shades of ivory and red, his nose a startling pink, his cheeks matching and you were sure he had approximately a hundred new freckles across his face.

He looked sullen, his glare breaking only to wince when he bent to fold himself into your passenger seat, teeth bared.

“Hey, sunshine!” You were awful about it, too cheery and a little too loud. “Feelin’ the heat?”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbled and you knew he didn’t mean it.

“Baby,” you cooed, trying not to laugh.

It was a call and response, Eddie’s expression crumpling as he finally gave in and whined. “Baby,” he answered.

You cracked, smothering a grin with your hand as Eddie threw his head back, theatrical even in pain.

“I told you not to lie out all day. It’s scorching, Eddie.” You brushed a gentle finger over the bridge of his nose, eyes wide ring as the slight pressure turned this skin white before returning to the violent shade of pink. “Look at you.”

“I know,” he groaned, “I’m stupid. Shit, shoulda listened to you.”

You smirked before starting the engine, peeling out of Steve’s drive. “Can you say that again, once I get a tape recorder?”

“You’re being so mean,” Eddie intoned, pushing at his own knees, watching the skin bounce from white to red, hissing as he did so. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

“That’s why we’re going to the store,” you told him, batting away his hands before he did any more damage to himself. “We’re getting aloe and yoghurt and some pain meds, ‘kay?”

Eddie blinked at you, bleary from sun exposure and too much heat. His smile was softer now, his pout gone. “Can we get some popsicles?”

An hour later, as you were smearing all types of cooling gels and creams onto your boyfriends bare back and chest, Eddie mumbled your name, a blue raspberry popsicle between his lips.

“Do I still loo’ like a ‘adass?”

You grinned, swiping a blob of aftersun on his poor nose. He blinked up at you, wondering if he was about to be offended.

“The baddest of asses, baby,” you promised.

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: All it took was one phone call and one visit from Ada to destroy the paradise Arthur had spent one full year building. No matter what he does, his past crimes always seem to catch up with him. Now that you are in danger, he decides to come back to Birmingham and handle the Changretta problem without you.

Words: 5,3K

TW: Angst, canonical description of violence, smut, foreplay, masturbation, self-harm, from the end of this chapter the story will take a darker turn. You've been warned.

Notes:

✞ Based off EP1 S4 of Peaky Blinders but contains many changes and variations for the sake of this series' plot.

✞ Each act features two chapters with smut in it, and they all serve the story's purpose. No more.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT CHAPTER

When Ada’s piercing eyes finally caught sight of the house’s roof through the trees’ thick foliage, she sighed relieved. While the landscape was breathtaking, the walk from her car to the front door had been tedious despite the short distance. In fact, the only way to access the house was to walk a sloped dirt road leading the visitors up to the hill’s summit — which was an almost impossible task to do when wearing classy high heels as was Ada’s case. Arthur did not lie when he said they were living far from the city. The young Shelby sister quickly wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and knocked at the door. She was welcomed by the sight of Arthur, whose magnificent steel blue eyes lit up when he saw his sister, delighted to see her. But far from a courtesy visit, the words that left her mouth broke their siblings' reunion. Like red-hot blades, they slashed Arthur’s hopes of straying away from his gangster life.

All the quietness and peace he had built throughout the year, rendering his anger outbursts less frequent, shattered like a glass smashed on concrete under the power of one sole visit from Ada and her bitter statement: the family was in danger.

No.

You were in danger.

And it was all his fault.

Something had changed in Arthur when he came back from his little talk with Ada. He had barely stepped into the house when you noticed how all the muscles of his body were tensed and how his facial features had turned into a colder expression.

“Arthur.” It has been the third time you called him, but each previous attempt had been left without any reply or reaction. Slumped on the sofa, the oldest Shelby brother was staring at an invisible spot on the wall facing him, his eyes blank and his fingers nervously taping on the left armrest. At first, you thought he just needed a bit of time with himself to swallow the visible bad news he had received from his sister, but two days had passed and now his behavior was starting to worry you.

“Arthur Shelby Jr.” You called with stricter tone this time.

All of sudden, your voice cleared the black fog of his mind and brought him back to reality. Arthur blinked several times as if he could shoo his messy thoughts away by batting his eyelashes, and finally raised his piercing blue eyes toward your graceful frame, that was standing in front of him with its arms crossed. At the serious expression on your doll face, he nervously moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, his gaze not shifting from you one sole second. God, how gorgeous you were in your silk nightgown, as white as your hair and adorned with complex laces. That was the first thought that had crossed his mind when his gaze fell on you. In truth, he would have probably pinned you to the wall and made your legs shake until you could not walk straight anymore if he hadn’t been plagued by the dreadful news Ada brought upon your harmonious life “Eh, I know…” He started, slightly raising his almost empty whiskey glass towards you, “I shouldn’t be drinking.” He admitted, before lowering his eyes to look at his own reflection in the alcohol. With one small movement from the wrist, he made the amber liquid softly spin in the glass. Arthur was still traumatized by Linda’s constant snarky remarks and humiliations each time he was indulging in whisky, that was why he had felt the need to justify himself now that you saw him drink alone.

“You don’t need my permission to drink, Cheri.” You replied with a soft voice, as soft as a feather’s caress on his poor aching soul. You were definitely not like his former wife: he could do whatever he wanted as long as it wasn’t taking drugs or cheating. That had always been the tacit deal between both of you when things got serious — and to be honest, you had feared the first temptation far greater than the second until you realized that Arthur’s new favorite drug was you.

Your crystal irises had been observing the slightest trait of his face with slightly furrowed brows for one solid minute when you finally let out a little sigh and slid one long ivory strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m just worried. You haven’t eaten anything nor slept for two days straight.” Worst, he had been hugging you tight, burying his face in your breasts and trembling like a leaf because of panic attacks for the last two nights.

“Worried? Eh, no need to be worried, love. Cm’here.” He replied with a little smile, moving one of his long leg to invite you to have a sit on him.

Arthur did try his best not to make you feel anxious but the truth was he was literally unable to hide something from his beloved wife even if he had wished to shield you from it. He had been mulling the news over for days and nights, and it was starting to eat him alive.

You walked to him without further ado, your hips graciously swinging to the rhythm of your steps, and finally sat on his lap. Once you straddled him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently rested your forehead against his as you usually did. Arthur let out a sigh of relief as your bodies found each other again, his hands grabbing your hips in an almost bruising grip. He was often a bit blunt, but how much you loved his possessive and suffocating way of touching was indescribable, “Ye didn’t know how much I needed it, eh.” Arthur’s husky voice mumbled, referring to his obsessive and desperate need to constantly have physical contact with you, “How much I needed your touch.” His steel-blue irises dived into yours, losing themselves in the vastness of the frozen ocean that constituted your eyes. He could have stayed like this for eternity, hypnotized by your beauty and lulled by the oh-so-tender way you had slipped your fingers in his hair to gently scratch the shaven back of his head.

“There. I finally see a smile!” You faintly teased him, “Not that I dislike that adorable grumpy face of yours.”

Nothing much had changed since your wedding day, except for your family name and the regular discussions about trying for a baby, all nestled in each other’s arms in your bed with Kaiser sleeping near, in front of the fireplace. In truth, it has been a miracle you were not already pregnant considering Arthur’s stamina and unquenchable desire. The thing was you never left the honeymoon stage despite living together. Against all odds, Arthur Shelby was a sweet and caring husband. He never missed an opportunity to bring you gifts, whether expensive clothes, jewels, or just little flowers he picked on his way back home because it was pretty and made you think about you. Moreover, he had this ability to always manage to find awe in your daily routine, the last example of it being him spending hours observing you and discreetly drawing your frame in his sketchbook because he had spotted you swimming naked in the nearby lake, and was star-stricken by such a divine vision. He had felt like an incredibly lucky Greek artist catching sight of the most stunning nymph the Gods had ever created. Little you knew, his sketchbook was filled with portraits and doodles of you he was too ashamed of to show you. Not that he wanted to keep them for himself, but Arthur always ended up frustrated not being able to properly translate your mesmerizing and ethereal beauty on paper.

Besides your idyllic and peaceful domestic life far from gangster’s troubles, Arthur had also opened a small garage and fixed cars for a living, even if his past activities with the Peaky Blinders gave him enough money to live comfortably without working. But Arthur was surprisingly handy when his patience did not fail him, and he genuinely loved to fix cars — what had been his surprise when you reacted with joy and kissed him tenderly the day he suggested the idea, for Linda never allowed him to do so.

Regarding your own occupation, you had simply followed your mother’s path and worked as both a herbalist and healer — the second occupation being known among people only through word of mouth. That was what your life looked like prior to Ada’s unexpected visit two days ago. Yet, when she left, Arthur’s eyes had turned into a darker shade, the same one he had when he was in Birmingham dirtying his hands on Tommy’s orders.

“Arthur, love. You really need to tell me what’s the matter with your sister…” You gently asked, your fingers still massaging his scalp and your juicy lips sprinkling honey pecks on the corner of his mouth from which the whisky bitterness could be tasted. But despite all your tenderness, your husband remained closed to the idea of sharing his concerns with you.

“It’s… A bit difficult to explain,” He mumbled, shutting his eyes tight, “I don’t want ye to panic or something. I can handle it and…”

“Please.” You cut him off, tightening your arms around him to pull him in a deeper hug. All his body finally relaxed a little bit when your fragile and frozen being collapsed with his, your breasts flattened against his chest and your hips firmly embracing his, “When we’ve met you told me that, from now, it was us against the rest of the world. Even if it was raining and the wind was blowing. You don’t have to face it all alone Arthur, no matter how awful or frightening it is. Let me fight it with you.” You pleaded, your lips grazing his with utter desire and genuine love.

“But I don’t want ye to be in danger.” Arthur finally admitted, reopening his gorgeous eyes to look at you. How much he hated not to share information with you, but Tommy told him it would be better if you ignored everything. Yet, the sensation of your mouth brushing his without kissing it soon stirred a bit of frustration in him. It had been enough to make him flip. With a grunt, he caught your lower lip between his teeth and gently sunk them into your soft flesh, to which you replied with a small surprised moan. Now that he got all your attention, he proceeded to kiss you almost furiously, his worries, dawning anger and blazing desire mixing together. His movements became blunter all of sudden, “I’ll fookin’ kill myself if something bad would happen to ye, eh,” He growled a bit louder against your mouth, his husky voice highlighted by an aggressive tone you hadn’t heard in one full year, “But I’ll destroy ‘em first, eh. These fookin’ wops won’t lay their fingers on ye. They won’t.” He repeated, his venomous anger wakening up slowly and coursing through his rusted veins. A little surprised whimper escaped from your mouth as Arthur’s tongue forced its way between your lips a bit too eagerly.

“Arthur —“

“Fookin’ bastards, how dare they eh?!” The gravel in his voice boomed louder, underlined with a palpable rage now. As he pestered, his mind spinning in a whirlpool of negativity, Arthur grabbed your wrist and led your hand between his legs, pressing it on his half-hardened shaft, for all his brutal emotions more than often led to sex when you were around. It was his, as well as your, way to release tension, “How dare they threaten me eh?” The tall gangster started to breathe loudly through his nose as his rage was increasing. All he needed was the smallest sparkle for him to explode. While he kept your wrist in one hand, his other one ran up your thighs in a rough caress to lift your nightgown eagerly, “Shift these panties, woman.” He said a bit more aggressively than intended, maddened by the overwhelming urge to feel your wet slit all around him. Growling, Arthur’s mouth worked its way down your neck to leave small red marks on your divine ivory skin.

“Arthur, no.” You breathed as you bite down a moan, doing your best to sound strict. As good as it felt, you did not want to give in now: getting distracted by rough sex was out of question, what you wanted was the truth first.

Arthur, no. As soon as your words left your tantalizing lips, they echoed in his head and were enough to snatch him from his violent thoughts. The tall gangster blinked and raised his slightly confused gaze to you, shocked by your vivid refusal. After all, you would usually let him ruin you whenever he needed it so why would you refuse? “You’re hurting me.” You reiterated with a sweeter tone now that you got his attention.

“Oh shit!” He released your wrist in response, guilt beating him down when he realized your skin was redden because of his grip, “I’m sorry…Oh, Angel, I’m bloody sorry…”

Still, you kept your hand there to his greatest surprise. The only difference was that your free fingers went for his cheek to bless him with soothing caresses to reassure him. As always, the cold sensation of your flesh against his managed to tame the wildfire that was burning in his soul, “Calm down...” Your voice was merely a whisper now, similar to the enchanting murmur of a siren singing in the far away distance, “Is this what you want?” You backed up a little bit on his lap to create a little gap between your hips so that you could get a better grip on his bulge. The palm of your hand started to languidly rub it.

“Heaven?” He gasped, the anger in his cold blue eyes suddenly turning into an astonished and beseeching look. But for Arthur Shelby no meant no, hence the fact he did not dare to touch you back, “Oh bloody hell, please…” He gritted through his teeth. As strong as he was, he felt his body weakened and his throat tightened with an unsufferable arousal.

“Now you tell me,” Leaving your sentence hanging, you grabbed him a bit stronger and he whimpered at your unexpected roughness. A long exhale escaped from his nostrils as he focused on both the electrifying sensation that shook his core and the enchanting sight of your lips he dreamt to fuck. Yet, Arthur gathered all his strength and willpower to remain calm, afraid you wouldn’t let him sink into your welcoming warmth if he misbehaved, “What happened with Ada?” You inquired, tilting your head on the side, “What did John tell you when he called you?”

“Eh… Nothing— Ah..” Arthur’s lips parted under the coiling pleasure when you tightened your grip on his shaft, “I— Can’t tell ye, love.”

“No, no. You’re going to tell me. Do you know why? Because you’re a good boy for your wife.” You cooed. Your almost chilling aquamarine irises were anchored in his, burning with an unflickering gleam of power and confidence. Sometimes Arthur wondered how such a delicate and fragile-looking angel like you could hide the seductive and fearful which you truly were. A witch to the others, a goddess to him — And how he liked both of those facets of you, feeding his dominant behavior but also fulfilling his more submissive tendencies when he needed to but was too ashamed to admit it. To be true, you both knew how to balance the power you hold over the other one, and tonight, you were clearly the one in charge, “Are you a good boy, Arthur Shelby?” You teased, one brow raised.

He clenched his fists around the sofa’s blanket in a desperate attempt to find a way to control himself for he almost cum at your praise, “I am…” Arthur slowly rolled his hips, “I’m a good boy for me wife…“ He replied, sucking in a sharp breath, with his quivering hoarse voice, “Please…” He growled in discomfort because his trousers had become far too tight. Nevertheless, you remained unmoved by his supplications and stopped moving your hand, waiting for an answer, “Alright! Alright… Im gonna tell ye!”

“I hope so.” You replied, kneading his bulge again.

“Ada and John told me we’ve all received a Black Hand.” He started, looking at you with impatience. Satisfied, you unbuckled his belt and let your hand work its way into his underwear to grab his hardened cock by its thick base and free it from his trouser. Arthur let out a loud groan, a drop of sweat beading on his forehead. Not only at the sensations but at the sight of your small fingers around his erection.

“What’s a Black Hand?” You kept asking all the while enjoying the sight of your husband’s enamored, begging, and fascinated gaze. He was looking at you, obliterating everything else, for only the words that came from your holy lips mattered.

“Oh fook, Angel… Touch me harder.” He begged in a trembling, almost broken voice. If there was one thing Arthur could not stand that was being teased. Thus it did not take much for you to have him wrapped around your finger. He suddenly bit his lower lip, eyes glistening with ruling passion, for the way the moonlight reflected through the window behind you created a heavenly halo around your head, “Touch me!” Another husky whine. The gangster rolled his hips eagerly, nails digging into the sofa’s fabric.

“Focus, Mon amour. The Black Hand. What is it?” You repeated, pressing a little kiss on his starving and slightly parted mouth while your hand started to jerk him off in slow up-and-down movements. At first, Arthur thought it would soothe the painful hardness of his cock but your far too languid movements only worsened it.

“Ah! The Black Hand yes. It’s a death threat from the Sicilian mafia. They send one to everyone they wanna — oh fook! — wanna kill…” He said through gritted teeth at the feeling of your thumb rubbing the glistening tip of his cock in circular motions, smearing precum on his skin. Arthur rolled his eyes, holding back a desperate cry as your hand pumped him in a way that brought him closer to heaven — or closer to hell, it was getting hard to tell.

“Why would they send you one?” You frowned, stroking a little bit faster.

“Oh bloody motherfucking hell!” He yelled, the gravel in his voice making the house shake as he threw his head back. Yet, he did not shut his eyes tight for looking at you while you masturbated him only strengthened his pleasure. He felt as if he was burning from within, “Cause I killed Changretta’s dad! I’ve put a fookin’ bullet through his skull. And now Tommy wants us to have an emergency reunion!” He spat very quickly, unable to stand it anymore. With a bit of luck, you’d allow him to spill himself now that he told you everything. Arthur let out an ashamed and submissive whimper, turned into a begging mess, “Let me cum! I’ll fookin’ beg on my knees if that’s what ye want! On my bloody knees, I will! but please… Please, Angel… I can’t take it anymore, oh God.”

“Tommy wants you back. Of course.” You winced, as if the bitterness of your own venom had exploded on your tastebuds, still caressing your man absentmindedly.

“Heaven…” He lamented, hiding his face in the crook of his arm, abandoning himself to the pleasure. Arthur moved his hips, trying to thrust his length in your fist in the hope of releasing himself but it wasn’t enough. The way you stroke him kept him at the edge of climax without allowing him to reach it and it was driving him crazy. Your focus shifted back to your husband, whose legs had started to shake like leaves in the wind.

You snapped back to the present moment,“ Oh Arthur,” You purred when you realized that your poor man had reached his limits but still tried to behave himself by not throwing you on the sofa and making you pay for teasing him. Bringing your face closer to his, you laid a myriad of kisses from his scarred throat up to the corner of his mouth, his mustache pleasantly scratching the skin of your face as you did, “Cum for me like the good boy you are.” You whispered in his ear, your siren-like voice intoxicating even more and causing him to whine no matter how hard he tried to bite it down… Goosebumps adorned your body at the arousing sight of Arthur, usually tough and rough, almost crying from pleasure and frustration. A little feverish sight escaped from your mouth, your walls clenching onto nothing. It was enough: he had been good and deserved some kind of relief. Hence, you finally stroked him how he wanted to be stroked, “I’m proud of you Arthur. So proud… Cum for me, my strong and lovely husband.” Your praises definitely got everything of him. Arthur’s fingers clenched so hard on the blanket that he almost tore it. He arched his back and the gravel in his voice chanted your name on repeat like he never did for any women, whores, or good girls, like a preacher imploring the mercy of his divinity. One minute later his cock throbbed in your palm before he finally released the tension in hot spurts of milky ropes in both your hand and your thighs. With a little satisfied smirk, you brought your fingers to your mouth and licked his release while looking at your shaking man.

“Christ…” He let out a long sigh, his body collapsing back on the sofa. The arm with which he hid his face fell limp after he tucked himself back in his trousers. Left as a panting mess, Arthur was trying to catch his breath while his half-closed eyes were still staring at you with a blissed-out gleam in their magnificent blue irises. But that extraordinary post-sex peace had to come to an end: the worst part of the discussion was awaiting. Arthur moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue, stars still dangling in his vision, and, without the slightest warning, pulled you in a strong hug. His arms wrapped around you, pressing your ribs so hard you almost suffocated: He was afraid. Fucking afraid to lose you, “You need to stay here. Safe and sound.”

“Sorry?” You suddenly exclaimed, lowering your gaze toward him to ensure you understood correctly what he just said, “That’s absolutely out of question, Arthur. I’m coming with you back to Birmingham. We’ll go through this shit together and we’ll be back in our forest as soon as possible.” You said, your fingers gently fondling his neck.

“No, love.” His hoarse voice, rendered raspier by the orgasm he had, retorted with a bit more authoritative tone as he regained his composure.“Ye ain’t coming with me. It’s too dangerous. Trust me, I’d love too but I would not forgive myself if Changretta would hurt you.”

“Are you kidding me? I can’t let you go alone and risk your life,” Panic had already started to kick in at that idea, twisting your guts and accelerating your heartbeat. Who will take care of him if you weren’t by his side? As the one who had pulled the trigger, you were more than aware that Arthur was probably the first name underlined in red on that Changretta’s list, “You know I can be useful. Arthur please.”

“I’ll be back very quick, love.” Arthur tried to reassure you, but parting from him was far too painful for you to agree with him, "I'll be back soon and we'll have a little one together right? The perfect couple…" The corner of his mouth stretched in a tender and soothing smile right before he crashed his lips against yours. You kissed him back but it did not made you feel better. Quite the contrary. Shaken by his decision, you sighed and moved away from him. Despite his attempt to hold you back, you still managed to break his embrace and walked towards the window, wrapping your arms around your own tiny frame to hug you.

Arthur bit his knuckles, frustrated by the whole situation, and utterly in pain for you had just rejected him. After a short while, he got up from the sofa and joined you near the window, his legs still weak, “Listen. You gotta trust me. I don’t want to be away from you either — God knows I’m already scared of withering without your heavenly presence and your arms around me neck. But I can’t risk losing ye. I would fookin’ die, I swear would. I want you to stay safe here, guarded by Kaiser and by the forest, rather than with me at the mercy of these Italians. If you come with me they’ll assault you… Because of me. Because yer me wife.” Arthur explained in a slow and distinct voice, his feathery fingers rearranging one of your white strands of hair. Tears blurred your vision at his words — since your wedding there hadn’t been one day you’d been away from each other more than a few hours, hence the overwhelming misery you felt that such a plan. , “Look at me,” He asked, gently grabbing your arm to make you spin. His hands, big and calloused, cupped your face, “Heaven,” he dived into your fleeing eyes, from which crystal tears were rolling down your pearly white cheeks, “Everything’s gonna be fine, ey.”

You slowly nodded, defeated. “Tout ira bien.” You repeated in French, looking at him with the most heartbreaking pout he had ever seen. In truth, you were trying to convince yourself more than actually believing it. Your little fists clenched discreetly —and they clenched so hard that your knuckles turned white.

No, it was not going to be fine.

Definitely not.

Snuggling in one of Arthur’s shirts, you buried your nose in the collar to smell the musky and reassuring perfume of your husband. A frustrated growl escaped from your juicy lips. You were sitting on the wooden floor in front of the fire, hugging your knees against your chest as you watched the flames die in the hearth. Only two weeks had passed since Arthur’s departure for Birmingham and you were already at the edge of the abyss, ready to fall into a pit of madness. Locked up here between the walls of your own house, you feel estranged from your home, trapped in a doorless maze. Just like a wonderful Siberian tigress in a zoo, you were spending your day pacing back and forth in the living room under Kaiser’s saddened and worried eyes, before collapsing on the floor or the nearby sofa. Devoured by anxiety and another frightful gut feeling no one was there to listen to, you usually ended up rolling in a ball with the guard dog’s big wet snout poking you in a desperate attempt to cheer you up. How could you carry on with your life when your soulmate was far away from you, hunted down by a whole mafia whose every member wanted to see him dead? No matter the protective spells you had cast upon Arthur, you could not help but give in to panic. After all, he was the only one you had. And you were quite unfortunate considering how every people you had truly loved always tended to end up dead and cold, six feet under.

Giving one last kiss on Kaiser’s head, you got up from the floor and went to the small silvery cigarette case that was on the coffee table. You slipped a cigarette between your plump lips and lit it up, immediately taking a long puff in the hope of calming your nerves. As the nicotine burnt your throat and lungs, you felt your nervousness alleviating a tiny bit. I should not be here, you thought, I should be by his side. These were the words that were playing on repeat in your head. In your rambling, your mind focused on Thomas Shelby, whose past mischiefs made you believe he was the only one responsible for your role —or rather for your non-role— in this new war against the Italians. Even if Arthur did not tell you anything about it, you knew he had managed to fill your man’s mind with the idea that you’d be safer here only because he did not want you back in Birmingham. That son of a bitch — he was well aware that he had to get rid of you if he wanted Arthur to behave like his dog. You let out a furious cloud of smoke from your nostrils.

As it as been the case before Thomas had sent you all in jail, your sharp witch instincts were ringing emergency alarms in your very soul. Your chest tightened at the sudden boiling rage that coursed through your veins. How ridiculous that was? You were stuck here, completely useless, as Arthur, John, Polly, and Ada were all facing unnamable dangers. Pressing your lips tight around the cigarette, you pinched your nose to calm your nerves. That was at the moment you had almost managed to calm down a little bit that one of the living room windows crashed in hundreds of little sharp shards of glass. The cacophony of it made Kaiser jump before he immediately reacted by rushing near the gaping window and aggressively barking at the outside darkness: the beast hundred pounds Cane Corso was ready to tear throats to protect you. With a pounding heart and eyes wide open, you looked at in the distance: All you could see was a car’s headlights located at the bottom of the hill, but they quickly disappeared when the driver left the place with haste.

“Putain!” You whispered, cigarette still hanging in your mouth and one hand pressed against your chaotic heart. What the hell had happened? Still shaking from the shock, you looked at all around you and noticed the huge brick that had been thrown at the window. However, what stirred your panic was not the tool of the mischief itself but rather the letter that was tied to it with barbed wires. You did not wait any longer and grabbed it, untying the letter without minding the small cuts the wire left on your skin. As you opened it, your crimson blood drenched the fabric of the paper in dozen of stains.

To Arthur Shelby’s whore,

If you think you are safe hidden here in the wild you are utterly wrong. We haven’t forgotten about you, and despite the fact you are outside of our economic interests, you evil witch have to pay for Father Hughes and Simon Conrad’s death.

We have understood from your past crimes that you are a great advocate of retributive justice so here comes the other side of the coin. Hereby, we wish to inform you that we will come for you one day. You can hide. You can run. But you won’t escape us.

In the meantime, check twice under your bed, in your closet and behind you, because we are the shadow that follows you. Also be sure that if the Mafia does not succeed in killing Arthur Shelby, we will.

Every witch can burn,

Your heart missed a beat so big you felt dizzy. The letter slipped from your wounded fingers and fell on the floor. You took the cigarette out of your mouth and, instinctively stubbed it out on the back of your wrist without the slightest wince for it was the only thing you had found to calm yourself down. The crackling sound of burning flesh echoed in the room as the red-hot ashes marked your delicate and immaculate porcelain skin with a black and red circle. The pain, vivid and stingy, did not seem to bother you though, judging by the way your face remained absolutely neutral: the truth was the burning of your wrath outmatched the one on your flesh. No matter Thomas’ orders and Arthur’s worries, you had made up your mind: you were going back to Birmingham, and you were going to make the whole city shatter and shake at your fingertips if that was what you needed to do to retrieve your peaceful life.

If all of Birmingham was afraid of Arthur Shelby more than anything, it was only because they had never seen the fury of his wife.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @brummiereader

[crybabytoy59]

Plea deal back fired…..

I had posted my ad This was to be my last time one last push then I would simply admit defeat and give up on my submissive dream to be a “Toy little”…

Please I am so tired of false Dom’s on here at every turn trying to strip me emotionally in the wrong way…. 

I am happy to pay, do works (Carpentry and general household repairs as had my own business now retired) or serve in alt way that would benefit both parties…

Am easy going fun to be around and up for just about Anything especially when Deep in sub-space….. Please 🙏 Please 🙏 🙏 PLEASE ! 🙏 🙏🙏🌹

Was all I posted ….but yet again nothing came of it but fake Dom’s trying to scam me for cash… I was truly broken up..

That was it No more…!!

But one sunny. May afternoon on my way home I stoped for petrol on return I noticed a message … 

Flipping it open it simply read …

“Are you genuine little one ?..do Not lie to us as that will bring serious consequences!”

Not again I thought he we go ! But something made me read it a second time .. 

It read “Do not lie to Us ?” This was something new as I had only even had fake Dom’s message me by them selfs… 

So I decided to write a short reply..

“Yes I am… but had lots of fake Dom’s trying to scam me so am giving up sorry … Hope you find what you are looking for in life”..

The reply took an hour later…

“Not so fast little one as we feel as You do !So sick of fake submissive littles only wishing for a quick thrill..we are looking for a genuine little Toy to play with…so Deep breath and reply “Sorry Mommy & Daddy I don’t mean to be a baby Brat!”

WTF ? 

Chuckling I sent it back with a red rose 🌹…

“ Much better little one Now let’s begin tell us about yourself & we will do the same sweetheart”...

That was the start .. 

As I poured my heart out they did too … turned out we had lots in common and they lived quite close …

So I took the plunge a short holiday with them at there home… 

For a long weekend of pushing my “Limits” to bring out “Crybaby”… 

I was told it would take around three weeks to recover enough to get back to day to day life !

This part scared me but also excited me deeply….

So first week in July I got on the train… 

an hour later I met them both at the other end..

They were fantastic people and put me so at ease Jim was around 6’2” well built and had cropped brown hair blue eyes and large hands as he shook mine… 

Sarah was around 5’6” with a curved athletic body she had jet black straight hair down her back with Green eyes … that I thought to be contact lenses.. But they weren’t...

They were both in casual clothing as was I that sunny day everything would change in my life....Everything !...

Under my casual clothing I had on my “Crybaby” pink baby grow they liked from my tumblr page with a black huge disposable, over them was my custom thick rubber shorts that had belts at the waist and thigh’s…over them was my white frilly bottom tights with my baby grow buttoned up over the tights..

Sarah took my hand first then Jim took the other as they walked me to the car a black Ramge Rover … 

Sarah opened the front passenger door telling me to sit in. .”In we go little one best behaviour ,”

As I sat in Jim was already in the car holding my seat belt .

“Sit back little one.. cross your legs and give Mommy your handies behind the seat!”

I did as i was told…

Sarah pushed mittens on my hands swiftly buckling them up then clipped them together, as Jim bent forward putting tape around under my knees ! …

He had a black surgical mask..

“Open Wide !”…I felt Sarah behind me push something into my mouth ..

It was a large dummy ! Jim then put the mask on me..Chuckling 

“All ready off we go be clever little one and suck your dummy till we get you home won’t be long Princess.”

I could see him looking at Sarah in the mirror smirking ...

As she spoke to me..

“Now little one your dummy has some nice gel inside suck hard and tell Mommy if it’s coming out ?.. a nod is fine as No talking little one !”

As I sucked the rubber a gel did ooze from it tasting sweet and slightly acrid ...

“Clever baby suck it all out till we get you back, it will just relax you so Mommy and I can prepare you without any silly nonsense from you Princess”

As we drove it was around 45 mins but ten mins in I started to feel warm and on edge hearing every sound like it was very loud ?...

After 30mins I could hear them both talking and giggling but it wouldn’t register what they were saying to each other ..

As we pulled up to a beautiful house the twin garage door opened as Jim drove the car inside it shut fast...

They both got out heading into the house then came back to the car after what seemed like hours too me..

Jim opened my door as Sarah uncliped the mittens...

They helped me from the car as I slumped not able to stand fully...

I looked at them both in a slight panick given my new heightened weak state !

But Sarah just giggled ..”Hey it’s ok little one it’s just Your a baby and can’t walk is all, we will help baby..down you go !...

now crawl after Daddy Princess ! Off you go !”...

Daddy was at the garage door into the house, there was a corridor with a grey tartan carpet down it’s length, the walls were white with large square decor panels..suddenly he stopped halfway down the corridor “Here we go Princess let’s get you in ! As Mommy and I can’t wait to get you ready for this evenings fun in the Playroom !”

He pressed a panel and a secret door opened to a room beyond...

As I crawled inside Mommy patted my rear “Up on the changing table little one!”

There was only one bit of furniture in this room a hip high white changing table with a baby print mat on it so I clambered up laying on my back..

Daddy was taking my jeans off as the white ruffles popped out from my jeans he smiled to Sarah ! 

She was removing my jacket to reveal my baby grow...!

“ My my look at this Daddy baby girl is so adorable (she tickled me ) Aren’t you Princess ! “

Daddy was bringing over a fresh diaper and huge industrial wet wipes..

As Mommy asked me a question ..

“Baby look at Mommy are you wet ? (I nodded) Clever Girl..are you Dirty ? (I shook my head) Ok sit up so Mommy can check your Wet baby girl”..

She helped me up then snapped open my baby grow then pulling the waist belt on my rubber shorts open !

 But Sarah  didn’t pull the front of my diaper open it was the rear she pulled ?

 This puzzled me as I had not been Dirty? …

“Daddy could you come over here please…” 

Daddy strode over to me....

“What’s up sweetheart?”

Mommy was still holding my diaper open…

“Feel baby …she told us she was wet !”

Daddy put his hand into the rear of my black diaper..

“Baby Mommy asked if you were Wet did she not ! So we are both Very angry with you my girl ! Lay down and don’t you Dare move we are going to have you think about being Naughty Princess !!” ..

Mommy did my rubber pants belt back up tightly !

Daddy then pulled a large belt over my tummy wrenching it tightly ! 

Just as Mommy pulled the table from under my legs and they dropped to me gasping..

But I had no time to think on this as Daddy pulled the head end and it went down just at my shoulder blades ! 

He then pulled two straps from under the table pulling my mittens down at 45deg under me ! 

Mommy cuffed my ankles pulling them both down to the loops that held my mittens !! 

“Right baby girl headie All the way back and look at us !”

Mommy barked as she pulled my dummy out !..

Then Daddy also shouted at me..

“Open Wide bad baby girl !”

He had a huge white ball  gag !…this he pushed into my mouth to a pop as he did up the strap tightly Mommy had a pink rubber mask it said “Bad baby girl” on the forehead ! Only nose holes and small oval eye lenses ..

Mommy pulled the soft rubber mask on to my neck and chin, as Daddy put a hand under my head she pulled hard stretching it up over my face then started zipping it down the rear as Daddy pulled the two half’s mercilessly together ! It was very tight .. 

but they were not done as Daddy pulled on a lower jaw  mask with full head harnessing tightly over me making me bite hard on the ball gag ! … 

I was now panicking trying too plead with them to stop..

Mommy put a bungee cord to my mitten passing it over to the over mitten via my chin at my throat ! A second was strung over my forehead at my eyes !

I could just see them both from the wee eyelet lenses ! ...

“Now baby We are going to get the playroom ready try to get some rest as when we come back to get you your going to Need All your strength in the Playroom for telling lies to Mommy Princess !

We are going to Punish you severely as baby Will learn to be Completely Obedient !”

Daddy patted my Nappy don’t fret we are going to make you piss and shit yourself little one make no mistake ! What we have in store will have baby girl flowing like the Crybaby brat you are into that Diaper !”…

They both went too leave me struggling in the bondage as I dare not move now for fear I would choke myself ! !…

I started crying… 

Mommy stopped and knelt down at my rubber clad face then kissed my cheek….

“Clever Crybaby  but soon your going to  bawl for Mommy and Daddy as we Play with our favourite Toys little one!”

They both left the room....

 I spent a few moments testing the bonds but gave up as my air was so limited..

I started to hurt due to the bow over the table and the bungee pulling at my head and neck relentlessly ! …

After my effort to test the bonds I could hear the blood pulsating through my ears as my state now heightened by the drugs I had been fed from the dummy I was having to concentrate to stop Panic setting in !

They seemed to be ages …

Then I heard them coming laughing as they did…

Mommy appeared first dressed in black riding jodhpurs and riding boots, she had on a white silk shirt with a black lace bra…

Daddy joined her dressed in leather pants with what looked like a crotch pouch, this had zips up both sides, it was also studded and fastened with a buckle at the top… he had on a rubber white shirt..

Mommy again knelt down to talk to me..

“Did Bad baby girl have a nice wee rest ? …Well nap time is over am afraid it the Play room for you Now little one…lets get this behaviour of yours corrected princess…”

Daddy was realising the bungee cord it felt so good…

As Mommy let the bindings loose with Daddy ! 

I squealed as they hauled me up off the table back onto the floor…

Daddy spanked my rear hard !

“Follow us Bad Baby girl !”…

I crawled after them both as they chuckled at my effort to keep up..

Then we reached a black door to there basement, Daddy opened the door to a smal landing then spoke..

“ Now Baby turn and crawl backwards till you reach the steps then crawl down them backwards ..once at the bottom Turn till one of us tells you to Stop ! Off you go Bad baby girl !”

Again I was spanked hard this time by Mommy!

“Hurry up little one we don’t have All Fucking day Princess !”

I scurried to Obey her backing down the stairs as fast as I dare !

At the bottom I turned panting due to the again lack of air from the hood and ball gag...

Then my new Mommy spoke to me ..

”Turn Baby ....Stop and craw to Daddys voice...”

Daddy spoke to me as I could now only see shadows due to the dim lighting...

“Over here with you Bad girl !”...

He patted my head thats fine right there just sit up so we can get you dressed properly for what’s ahead today Princess. !”

Mommy took my babygrow off as Daddy pulled down my tights and frilly pants.

“Take Mommy’s hands and lift your right leg !”

I did as told and he pulled off my attire having me lift the other leg ..

Next they put me into something plastic it felt like a short dress ?

Next came leather booties that buckled backwards as Daddy hauled them highly My feel were pulled flat with my shins as he forced steel rods around pockets in them !

I could now not move my feet !!

And my arches were now fully exposed as the booties had no soles !...

“Now bad girl crawl over to us  ! Hurry up faster Princess !”

Suddenly I slammed into something at my arms ?

But had no time to react as they both wrenched me up onto my feet ..Mommy barked at me “lift your right leg !” My foot was put on a rubber block this hurt due to wearing the foot restraints as my toes were forced painfully into the rubber boots!..

Daddy barked at me to lift my other foot as he put that one to a second rubber block they were quite far Apart !

Next my mittens were pulled out to the sides and fixed as something was put to my head harnessing !...

I could hear chains clinking the whole time !...

Mommy then spoke to me...

“Now Baby girl lets show you what Disobedience brings to Bad little Girls that tell Lies to Mommy and Daddy !”

Sarah pulled the two ropes from the rubber blocks to Babyslave  falling into the chain. Framework ! Suspended ready for Playtime ! ....

As Mommy kissed Daddy in front of Baby girl she picked up a wide leather strap a 20” long loop of pig skin around 4mm thick she absolutely loved this flogger !

Turning to face a Very scared little she stepped to one side of the suspension framing, lifted her arm up high quickly and expertly drawing it rapidly through the air too connect with baby girls torso ! 

The squeal was instant as the chains holding their new Babyslave chimed in response !

The sound of the crack from the belt-strap made louder by the cute plastic dress baby girl was wearing ...

A simple single layer of clear plastic that only just came to baby girls hips it had large puffy shoulders but no arms the only part of the dress not plastic was the frilly pink starched collar with the white embossed collar it like the pink hood simply read 

“Bad baby girl”..

Sissy baby was panting out the pain as Mommy raised her arm a second time ! 

This second blow seemed to curl around baby girls rib cage to another Thwack !

Baby jerked in the chains again ! Squealing loudly..

“Bad baby girl !” Mommy shouted  as she raised her arm again..

Sarah loved being Dominant watching a grown man breaking down in tears made her so wet ! ..

She had become an expert with the pig hide flogger and could now make its tip kiss where she wished as babyslave was now finding out ! 

As Red marks now appeared around sissy’s torso ! ....

I hung in the chains swinging from the last blow Sarah had just delivered the pain was incredible as it rushed through my body desperate for an exit...it found one in the form of my ball gagged mouth !..

A muffled scream as my New Daddy walked forward chuckling ...he spoke..

“Now Baby girl lets get you set up for your first “Evacuation”...Aaaawwww look Mommy real tears from Crybaby !”

Daddy uncuffed one of my legs putting it too one of the rubber blocks !

“Up on your toes Baby girl !”

This was quite difficult due to only having one foot to balance on...

Suddenly there was a loud swish followed by a louder Thwack !

As Mommy again flogged my chest !

“Get Up when Daddy tells you first time bad girl ! Now !”

Panting the pain out Idid as told !!

“Much better trust us Crybaby you are going to learn Obedience as Mommy and Daddy as going to teach it to you little one !”

Daddy unfastened my tummy belt and thigh belts on my heavy rubber pants then pulled them down to my knees followed by pulling the tabs off my wet diaper...

He chuckled at my shrivelled up clittie due to being scared at that moment..

Daddy put some kind of gel on my tummy ? Then lifted a triangular plastic pad with lines like a car window heater but thicker ?...

This he pushed on to my lower tummy pulling a strap around my waist.

Next he lifted a curved bar with copper wire wound along its length this had bolts pointing down wards, as Mommy handed him a second curve with copper windings around it also. !

Daddy passed both half’s together behind my clittie at the base !

Then screwed a nut to both half’s as they tightened I whimpered!

Mommy rubbed my now raising welts as she mocked me ...

“Clever baby girl keep still as we are far from done yet little one this is going to be so Much fun ..But not for you am afraid Crybaby !”

Daddy chuckled again as he connected the tummy panel too the top of the clittie clamp .

“Clever baby almost there !”

He lifted a clittie sheath putting some sort of glue at its base as Mommy started teasing my nipples as I whimpered due to the belting I had just revived...

Mommy rubbed something around and into my nostrils ?

OMG it was her sex juice ! ...

The smell was very powerful as she played with me...

They both laughed...

As Daddy pulled on the sheath over my engorged clittie !

Lifting the tube from it he fed it under my dress to Mommy’s hand at my nipple

she pulled it up plugging it to the ball gag !

As my eyes widened !

“Yes little one your going to drink your own pee like a clever potty mouth !”

Daddy pulled my butt cheeks wide apart as Mommy lubed my rear holding up a butt plug for me to see !

This was made of stainless steel and around 4” long a hollow cone of steel rods each rod winding in a spiaral to a small steel top hat, the base was round with a spiral Center this had a hole around 10mm.

Mommy slowly worked it into me ...

“Clever Girl just relax for us....that’s it ..now push as if you need to go potty Crybaby ! There We Go ! All done and ready !”

Daddy lifted my wet disposable putting it in front of himself he unfastened the buckle then zipped the pouch open took out his cock ! 

I looked on in disbelief as my new Daddy 

Pissed into the waiting disposable ! 

Then once done he handed it to Mommy who squatted over it releasing her self also, It was now sodden !

As they tapped it back onto me they wound black gaffe tape tightly around it !

Mommy then pulled up my rubber pants over the wires and clear tube to my gag ..

Daddy then pulled my leg out but this time much wider then last time as I squealed aloud around my ball gag !

“Now Baby girl seeing as your so Bad we are not going to do a warm up phase am afraid”

As Mommy spoke she pushed a small button I had not seen on the ball gag !

it deflated to a Dummy shape !

“That will allow you to suckle for us baby”

Daddy pushed a button and all Hell let loose ! ...

I struggled in the frame from the first shock of electro from the clittie /bladder pad !

As I hung panting Mommy picked the belt back up..

“Now Crybaby sweetheart where Mommy and baby girl O’yes your cute leggies now potty mouth !..tell lies to us would you Bad Baby Girl!”

Thwack !

What had I gotten into with this pair...this was not what I had expected …only babyish talk some light spankings ect ...fed baby food ect....

Not. My own Piss straight From the tap !  

As they beat me mentally and physically !

Thwack ! Thwack !...

Sarah was so flushed as she flogged there new Toy ! 

Seeing sissy jumping in the chain bondage, the playroom ringed a beautiful tune as sissy struggled with each blow !

No way of escape but to simply accept what they would dish out !

A few shocks more and hubby would hit the magic spot ...

Sissy would have No choice as it would happen whether or not sissy wanted it too !

Sarah nodded to her hubby that it was time...

Daddy hit the button to a loud scream from Babyslave ! 

As yellow fluid made its way up the tube a distinct sound could be heard as Crybaby filled the disposable !

“Clever baby girl have you just shit yourself ?”

Mommy mocked as she patted sissy’s rear...Again Daddy ?”

He chuckled at my desperate pleading and head shaking !.

“Eh no Madam we decide ! Potty mouth ..ready Deep Breath !”

The second seemed so much worse as pee now filled my mouth I had to swallow panting wee trails of my own urine running down my chin!

This Mommy had noticed ..

“Aaawwww Daddy think someone needs a bib !”

Daddy handed her a solid plastic bib with a collection tray built into it, on this was a picture of Winnie the Pooh bear in bondage gear ! 

They both laughed as Mommy put it around my neck...

“We don’t want too miss any of your feeding potty mouth !”

Suddlely everything collapsed and I do mean Everything !!!

I grunted hard filling my disposable with the entire contents of my gut !

As I had to gulp down my pee’pees !

Crying like a small child now I didn’t care who saw or heard me I was lost in submission !....

I just wanted to serve them both no matter what with All my heart...

Worse was they knew it ..

“Clever baby are you going to Tell Mommy or Daddy lies ever again ?...

(I shook my headie!) Good baby then shall we get you down and cleaned up little one ?”

Daddy stepped forward...to kiss his wife then looked right at me...

“Shortly darling, but it’s only fair Daddy gets to punish Crybaby after all why should you have All the fun !”

Mommy chuckled as Daddy put on a pair of leather gloves  !

He pulled Babyslave backwards in the chain frame !

Then started Spanking the rear of baby’s rubber pants Hard Very Hard !

As mess spread everywhere ...

But it was short lived as Daddy spanked baby hard on the thighs !

Smack ! Smack ! Smack !....

“Hold her hips Please Mommy !”

Mommy pushed full force backwards so baby couldn’t move an incjh !!

Daddy Smacked even harder ! ..

Thighs , calf’s then feeties ! ..

Lifting a flogger he began whipping Babyslave over the arches of her sissy feeties ! 

This made baby hysterical !

This seemed to please Daddy no end as he punched baby’s tummy ...

“Swallow it !”..

Baby was peeing again !....

An hour later sobbing her sissy girl heart out they pulled Crybaby off the frame ! Having her crawl to the bathroom !...

[trtyutr]

Attention of the Court V

Ryan lies on his couch, clad on in his boxers. His hands lie on his five week baby bump. One lies on top of the baby filled mound while the other paces the side of the bump that looks more as if it six months along if it were normal. It was the last week he was staying in his apartment before he moves to a small condominium. Then the packages arrive.

It takes him a bit to get up to the door. He opens the door a crack before taking a peak outside to see if there's anyone who would see his nearly naked form. When he saw that the coast was clear, he looked down to see two boxes, one small and red, the other large and blue. He moves as quickly as he can with his over one hundred kids weighing him down. He manages to push them inside just in time for him to hear some another door down the hallway open up. He's safe. He grabs blue box. Its cardboard is that same dark shade of blue as the envelopes. He rips off that the blue tape to find a piece of paper on top of a bunch of neatly folded up clothes. The paper says that he was given ownership of a managed account with $112,500 in its portfolio. "It's increasing by 50% each time. I think I can get used to it. "The clothes are also pretty nice." He said as he picked through them. There was a variety in the selection, t-shirts, fishnet tank tops, to white button down dress shirts. These actually came at a great time, because he down to three boxers, two sweat pants, and a hoodie that barely covers half his belly. He tries on a t-shirt. It's a bit tight, but it fits. It even covers his baby bump. It doesn't leave a lot to the imagination, though. He turns to the red box. It flips open easily to reveal an amulet on a silver chain along with a note. "You only have to wear it for five minutes for our deals. I don't think it's my style, but I want the money." He sets an alarm for ten minutes, just to be safe. He puts it on. The metal is cool, and for some reason wearing it makes him feel off, like his thoughts can't form. It wears off after five minutes, and when the alarm goes off, he puts the amulet off and forgets it. Three days later, he's at the gay bar. He's sitting at a table alone. He's wearing a tank top, a jock, and jeans. He sips his water, when he hears "Can I buy you a drink?" He turns around to see a shorter man with bit chin scruff and a brown leather jacket. "I'm fine with water, but I would like your company." Ryan says patting the seat beside him. "I'm sorry if this is forward, but are you" "Pregnant? Yes. I'm about five weeks along." The strangers face knits together as a few gears start to turn, but soon he smiles again as the glamour pushes away all those bothersome questions. "I was going to ask single, but pregnant is good is good to know too. It's hot." He scoots his chair closer. The man puts his hand on Ryan's leg. "You're hot." Ryan's at the stranger's place. He's peeled off the tank top and lying on the bed. He's being showed a series of strap one. "Which one does Daddy like?" Ryan points to a ivory white eight incher. "This one, and don't worry, I'm loose enough." He says taking off his jeans. "No wonder a slut like you is pregnant. That's even hotter." A condom, some generous lube, and a transman rutting into him, Ryan's cumming into his jock hand's free. "Dear Peers, my game is covered, and our fertile Ryan is growing like a garden, but only with his womb, so I'm going to send him a fruit basket with everything that a growing father needs. Every vote of yours will add your voted fruit to the basket. I have some wonderful Milky Coconuts, great for building pectorals. I have Juicy Peaches, great for the glutes. Heavy Avocados that hang low and heavy on the tree, perfect for making man virile. Long Bananas, which will help his manhood. Maybe Fatty Olives to add some fat on his form. Or maybe Protein Packed Berries to help build his muscle. " (Instead of winner takes all, each vote in this poll will make Ryan grow in whatever you vote for.)

[valleydean]

Final Chapter: Chapter 13 [Read Here]

HEAVYWEIGHT a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) read from beginning | playlist | ko-fi

SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1927. The Golden Age of Boxing. Two years ago, light heavyweight champion Dean Winchester and heavyweight champion Castiel Novak had a secret affair. After a scandal tarnished Cas’ name and stripped him of his title, the two parted ways. Now, with a heavyweight tournament on the horizon, Dean aims to up his weight class so he can compete for the title. He finds unexpected competition when Cas comes out of retirement and returns to New York to fix his reputation. Upon their reunion, the two contenders learn that, outside of the ring, some bruises never really heal.

PREVIEW:

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when the gentle sound of someone knocking at the front door pulled him languidly back into consciousness. He picked his head up, the now cold washcloth he’d boiled and folded over his forehead sliding off his face in the process. He felt stiffer and more disoriented now than he had when he’d fallen asleep, and a layer of sweat sat atop his skin despite his goosebumps.

The knock came again. Dean moistened his dry lips with his tongue and sat up—and winced when the twisting motion caused a spike of pain in his ribs. He ran his hand down his face, trying to catch his bearings a little, but all it did was exacerbate his wounds.

He hoped someone else would get the door, but the house was quiet, and he remembered that Sam and Jo were both out. It was up to him to tell whoever was knocking to fuck off. He really hoped it wasn’t a reporter looking for a quote.

Yawning and scratching a particularly itchy scab on his chin, he walked to the door, ready to face the music. He ripped the door open to a blast of February’s chill, a colorfully rude demand for the intruder to go away on the tip of his tongue.

He froze when his gaze latched on to Cas instead.

Dean hadn’t remembered having dreams from last night until that very second; but he’d dreamed of Cas in bed with him, running his fingers along every wound until Dean was healed.

Back in reality, Cas looked almost surprised himself, like he hadn’t really expected Dean to answer the door. His face was littered with cuts and contusions, the starkest of which were the angry red strip on the bridge of his nose and the pulsating maroon line on his busted lip. Butterfly stitches were taped to his eyebrow and the bolt of his jaw. A bruise, dark in its center and tapering off to sickly green and yellow, ringed his right eye. A blood vessel had burst in his left eye, staining the white with crimson and muddying the blue of his iris.

Dean’s heart stuttered, knowing he was the one responsible for all of that, knowing Cas was the reason for his pain in return. It was a slap in the face, seeing the evidence of everything they’d ever done to each other in physical form.

Cas’ eyes were big and wet as they took Dean in, but then he blinked, seeming to recover. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean sucked in a breath, filling his hollow chest. It took a while for him to breathe out, for his mind to catch up with what was happening. Cas was there. Dean’s fight or flight instincts kicked in, and he internally debated pushing Cas away or actually hashing this out. After last night, it kind of seemed stupid to maintain the lie that they could ever put each other in the past. It was better to put this to bed once and for all, to face whatever was between them—if anything, even mangled and broken viscera. If it wasn’t too late to save it.

Bracing himself, he opened the door wider and stepped aside. If nothing else, it would get them both out of the cold.

/////

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Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics or if you’d like to be taken off the list.

[monarchetype]

The Magnus Archives Index Card fan art - The Entities

Check out my first index card drawing for TMA here, from back when I had no clue what was going on.

Descriptions and explanations under the cut.

I actually started this one a few weeks ago when I first listened to Episode 111 (aka the worldbuilding infodump) but I only got around to finishing it today. From left to right, top to bottom:

Row 1 Column 1: Two silver lines reminscent of magnetic tape form a helix of eyes against a black background, which also has smaller, floating eyes. Representing The Eye, of course.

Row 1 Column 2: A purple coffin covered in silver chains, against a blue background. Representing the Buried, with the blue representing the "drowning" and "deep ocean" aspects of it.

Row 1 Column 3: A combat knife cutting a red tear across a gauche pattern of colors that is remiscent of both camouflage and abstract country maps. Representing the Slaughter, both at the personal and larger scales.

Row 1 Column 4: A candle emitting gray smoke against a similarly gray background, with a small pile of black ash at its base. Representing the Desolation.

Row 1 Column 5: A black, unmarked gravestone on bare earth, with skeletal hands reaching towards it from a white void. Representing the End.

Row 2 Column 1: A single claw reaching out from a curtain of leaves, blood dripping from the tip. Representing the Hunt.

Row 2 Column 2: A black spider silhouette on a silver web, against a red background. Representing the Web. Not gonna lie, I thought I was so cool making the background the color of blood, and then I realized it just looked like Spider-Man. Oops.

Row 2 Column 3: A gold comedy mask against a multi-colored striped background reminiscent of a circus's color palette. The mask has two red marks on either side, reminscent of the face paint of the famous clown Grimaldi. Representing the Stranger.

Row 2 Column 4: A spiraling pattern of rectangles color yellow, green, and pink, in a pattern that isn't quite a pattern. The center has a circle that might be a doorknob. Representing the Distortion.

Row 2 Column 5: The dark silhouette of a person's head and shoulders against a grey background, with a black silhouette of a dead tree branch hanging over them. Representing the Lonely.

Row 3 Column 1: The upper half of an open mouth, vaguely human but with sallow orange-y skin, and molars at even distances around the rim. Representing the Flesh.

Row 3 Column 2: A sickly yellow-green and blue hive with silver protusions from the lowermost combs, against a purple background. Representing the Corruption.

Row 3 Column 3: A drawing reminscent of the black hole photo, of a black circle with warm colored clouds surrounding it, but with additional black lines akin to rivers of darkness pouring into the center from space. Representing the Dark.

Row 3 Column 4: A lightning bolt against a gradient that goes from black to blue to white. Representing the Vast.

Row 3 Column 5: A circle vaguely resembling planet Earth, with blue oceans and a grey-green continent, overlaid by an interlocking nuclear hazard symbol and three plastic waterbottles. The planet is haloed in fire. Representing the Extinction.

Some of these I'm more proud of than others; the Dark, the Desolation, and the Lonely in particular I think turned out really well. I'm also really proud of the concept for the Eye and the Distortion, although the execution could've been a bit better. (I was actually trying to go for a regular pattern when coloring in the Distortion and just goofed, but then I realized that actually made more sense. Happy accident!) The Extinction in particular looks sloppy, but hey, I'll do better next time.

[j-eryewrites]

A Study in Pink (III)

Previous | Next

SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 4.k

Trigger Warning: Crime Scene, Sherlock being Sherlock, Bjørn doesn’t like Sherlock (AKA the cat from LUCA), Sherlock is a jerk, John gets mad.

_______________________________________________________________

Sherlock’s knee bobbed up and down with anticipation. The cab John and him were in was taking its sweet time. They also had made the unfortunate mistake to travel during rush hour. John glared out the window. He refused to look in Sherlock’s direction. Which was met with a sneer from Sherlock. Finally, the red and blue flashing lights of the police were in sight. Sherlock’s posture straightened at the sight. He hastily unbuckled his seat belt and jumped out of the cab before it reached a full stop. 

John groaned and paid the cab driver. His wallet was getting lighter and lighter every time he travelled with Sherlock. Afterwards, John scurried out of the car. 

Sherlock confidently walked towards the crime scene. There were bright yellow police do-not-cross tapes everywhere. The spinning lights on the police cars made Sherlock’s eyes wince. White. Blue. White. Blue. Sherlock shook his head. His eyes took their time to adjust to the bright lights. 

John now walked by Sherlock’s side. His shorter legs struggled to keep up with Sherlock’s long strides. “You’re in a mood, John.” Sherlock slowed his pace so John could walk by him side-by-side. “I know we both loath Anderson, but this is an overstatement.”

“No, I’m not in a mood, Sherlock,” John grumbled. 

Sherlock cocked his brow. “Lie.”

John sighed. “Fine, I want to hear why I’m mad, Sherlock. You. You were horrible to Y/N when all she was just trying to do was be nice.”

“Should I be nice?” Sherlock asked. 

“Yes, Sherlock!” John shouted. “It’s nice to be…nice.” 

“Are you nice all the time?” Sherlock’s brow raised up. John wasn’t sure if his friend was being sarcastic or not. 

“I try to be,” John replied hesitantly. 

“Then why should? I have you to be nice.” Sherlock stated. 

John stopped walking. He clenched his fists and took in a deep breath. His eyes closed. Sherlock lifted the yellow police tape and approached the scene while John was collecting every bit of restraint he possessed. When John opened his eyes again, an obnoxiously recognizable person held out a hand, and they stopped Sherlock from entering the building. 

“Ah yes, Donovan,” Sherlock said. He flashed a painful smile like a child who did not want to participate in family photos. 

A smug-looking woman, with spiralled black hair and an air of pompousness, confronted Sherlock. “Hello, freak,” she sneered. Her dark eyes looked Sherlock up and down. Her distaste grew the longer she stared at him. 

John appeared behind Sherlock. “John,” Donovan said with less contempt. 

“I’m here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade,” Sherlock said. 

“Why?” Donovan wondered. Sherlock glared at the woman. She knew what he was here for. 

“I was invited.” Sherlock enunciated. 

“Why?” Donovan repeated. She sounded like a toddler whose sole purpose was to ask the question why. John got the sense that this conversation could go on forever at this rate. 

“I think he wants me to take a look,” Sherlock groused. 

Donovan’s eyes twitched. “Well, you know what I think, don’t you?”

“Always Sally,” Sherlock breathed. “I even know you didn’t make it home last night.”

Donovan’s composure collapsed. “I don’t…,” She said. Her mouth hung open for a moment. Then her eyes rolled and she lifted a radio to her mouth. “Freak’s here. Bringing him in.”

Despite having heard the nickname throughout his entire life, Sherlock still couldn’t control the pain that appeared and quickly disappeared from his face. John wished he could help, but it would just only make things worse. It usually went that way with bullies like Donovan. 

The two of them brushed past Donovan into the building. A man dressed in plastic coveralls started to walk towards them. Again they were stopped. He put a hand on Sherlock’s chest to stop him from entering. “It’s a crime scene and I don’t want it contaminated. You hear that freak?” 

“Quite clear, Anderson. How long has your wife been away?” asked Sherlock.

Anderson scoffed, running his hand over his frumpy, unkempt beard. “ Don’t pretend you found that out. Somebody must have told you.” His eyes gave away his unease. 

“No one did,” Sherlock smirked, pausing slightly to provide the punchline. “You’re deodorant told me that.” Anderson looked curiously at Sherlock. “It’s the same one Sergeant Donovan is wearing”. Anderson’s face flushed a bright red as nearby officers began to give him and Donovan looks. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. My colleague and I have a crime scene to get to.” Anderson angrily huffed and moved out of the way, letting the two of them enter the building. 

John snickered as Sherlock walked away from Anderson. John didn’t have to worry about Sherlock. He could take care of himself just fine. The two of them walked up the long winding stairs. The building was eerily gray. The walls, the railing, and the stairs underneath them all seemed to be in mourning. Step by step they climbed. When they reached the top, they found Lestrade. He was sticking one of his arms into the sleeve of the plastic coveralls. Something he had difficulty with since the plastic material kept sticking to his clothes. 

“Damn coveralls,” Lestrade cursed, finally shoving his arm through the sleeve. 

Sherlock the man, picked up coveralls and gloves for John and handed them over. John took them from Sherlock’s hand and began to put them on. Sherlock opted out of the coveralls. Instead choosing latex gloves. 

Lestrade grasped Sherlock’s arm. “I can give you two minutes.” He said. 

Sherlock’s nose twitched. “May need longer.”

“Right, well, her name’s Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. “ Lestrade explained. “Hasn’t been here long. Some kids found her.”

Sherlock nodded. With a creak, Lestrade had opened up the wilting door for John and Sherlock. Sherlock stepped into the room and looked around. 

The room was practically empty all save for an ancient-looking rocking horse in the corner. There were portable lights set up around the room brought in by the police to illuminate the scene better.  The walls were decorated with faded green wallpaper that looked like it had been there since the 1950s. The ceiling and floors displayed signs of water damage and possibly mould. In the middle of the room stood John crouched over the dead body of a woman dressed in pink. The body was lying face down and her hands were placed by her head. Just above her head was the word RACHE scratched into the floorboards. Sherlock approached John and the body.  He crouched down. 

“Shut up,” Sherlock commanded. 

Lestrade looked around the room. “I didn’t say anything.”

Sherlock peered at Lestrade over his shoulder. “You were thinking. It’s annoying.”

John sent Lestrade an apologetic look, before bringing his gaze back to Sherlock. 

Sherlock heard a pair of footsteps behind him. He looked up and found Anderson. He was leaning smugly against the door frame.

 “She’s German. Rache: it’s the German word for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something…” Anderson said. 

Sherlock shot up, walked over to Anderson, and slammed the door shut. Then he twirled around. His phone is now in his hand. 

“So she’s German?” Lestrade pondered. 

“Of course, she’s not. She’s from out of town, though.” Sherlock explained without removing his eyes from his phone. 

John stepped closer and crouched over the body opposite Sherlock. 

“ What do you think, John?” Sherlock asked. 

“Of the message?” John asked. 

“You’re a medical man,” Sherlock clarified. 

John leaned closer to the body to get a better look. “Asphyxiation, probably. Choked on her own vomit. I can’t smell any alcohol on her. Possibly drugs.” John paused. “Promise me you won’t analyze Y/N.”

“That information we already know,” said Lestrade. “Sherlock?”

“The victim is in her late 30s and has a bit of an obsession with the colour pink.  She intended to stay in London for one night, possibly meeting a lover, by the size of her suitcase. She travelled here earlier today.” concluded Sherlock. “Why should I make such a promise?”

“Just promise me, Sherlock,” exasperated John. 

Sherlock peeled his gaze off the body. John’s eyes bore into his. The man’s kind eyes now held determination. Sherlock looked back down and nodded his head in agreement. John sighed in relief. 

“Suitcase?” inquired Lestrade. 

“Her wedding ring must be ten years old. The rest of her jewellery was well taken care of. Cleaned regularly, but not her wedding ring. Unhappy marriage. The inside of the ring is significantly shinier than the outside – that means it’s regularly removed. It’s not for work; look at her nails. She doesn’t work with her hands, so what, or rather who does she remove her rings for? Clearly not one lover; she’d never sustained the facade of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them. Quite simple really.” 

“And what about today?” wondered John. 

“The woman’s coat: it’s slightly damp on the outside. She’s been in heavy rain in the last few hours before her death. There was only rain at the LH Airport. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She’s turned it up against the wind. She’s got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but it’s dry and unused: not just wind, strong wind – too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance, but she can’t have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn’t dried.” 

Sherlock broke the silence. “Where is it? The suitcase?”

“There wasn’t a suitcase, Sherlock,” replied Lestrade. 

Sherlock began pacing around the room, helping jog his mind. “They take the poison themselves….It’s murder, not suicide, murder. Serial killings- serial killer!” By then he was jumping for joy. “Her case! Where is it? ” John and Lestrade looked puzzled as Sherlock continued talking to himself. 

“Sherlock, there was no case!” Lestrade yelled. 

“But they take the poison themselves; they chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs. Even your lot couldn’t miss them.” 

“Right, yeah thanks…” Lestrade mumbled. 

“It’s murder, all of them. I don’t know how, but they’re not suicides. They’re killings–serial killings.” Sherlock turned to John in delight. “We’ve got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There’s always something to look forward to.”

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade questioned. His face was filled with worry. 

“Her case,” Sherlock began to mutter again. “Come on, where is her case?” Sherlock’s eyes widened. “Someone else was here, and they took her case. So the killer must have driven her here; forgot the case in the car.” 

“Couldn’t she have just left it at a hotel?” wondered John.

“No, she wouldn’t have left...Oh, Oh!” Sherlock exclaimed. John and Lestrade shared worried looks. When Sherlock was excited it meant one of two things. Someone had died or he won a bet against his brother. “Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake.” Sherlock turned to Lestrade. “Lestrade, find out who Jennifer Wilson’s family and friends were. Find Rachel!” 

“Right, yeah - but what mistake Sherlock?” 

Sherlock’s pacing halted. He turned towards Lestrade, placing his hands tightly on Greg’s shoulders, giving him a shake or two. “PINK!” With that, he was out the door. John followed closely behind. He had learned very early on that once Sherlock had an idea, he would disappear within seconds. John found Sherlock outside the building conversing with Donovan. About what, he had no idea. 

“Right. John, hurry up.” enunciated Sherlock.

Briskly walking beside Sherlock, John pondered, “Does anyone ever tell you that you walk too fast?” 

“No John, yours and everyone else’s legs are just too short. This is a normal pace for me.” 

“No Sherlock,” mimicking Sherlock’s tone, “you’re walking faster than normal.” Sherlock lifts the collar of his coat.

“There is tea waiting for us back at the apartment.” 

“Are you saying that you’re…thirsty?” John inquired. 

“No, but I need someone fresh. New ideas. Just so happens that we have a new neighbour.” He turned to John, giving him a smile that made John’s stomach turn. 

“No Sherlock,” stated John.  He placed his hands on his hips. “You’re probably the last person she wants to see today after you were rude to her.” 

Sherlock halted his steps. “John. I’m trying to be nice. So, we are going to have tea with the new neighbour.”

_______

“On another note,” The newscaster spoke. “We are expec…” Y/N had switched the channel. She disliked the news. She knew it was important to be informed, but she was already in a sour mood. She didn’t need the news to add to it. 

Y/N brushed her hand lazily over Bjørn’s soft fur. His tiny body exuded the leftover warmth from his bath earlier. Bjørn’s purrs rang low as it pulsed up to Y/N’s ears. A soft blanket was draped over Y/N’s shoulders. One of the only things that she would allow herself to splurge on. Bjørn’s ears perked up and his tail swished as he looked at the door of Y/N’s flat.

“What’s up, Bjørn?” Y/N asked. She saw her cat’s golden eyes narrow. Suddenly there was the creaking of a door, footsteps, and muffled voices. Those voices got closer and closer. Y/N’s door swung open. Sherlock barged into the flat. 

“ Sherlock, you can’t just walk into her flat!” John yelled. Y/N saw his figure appear in the doorway. 

“I didn’t just barge in on John. The door was unlocked,” commented Sherlock as he took off his black trench coat and hung it up on the coat rack. Already making himself comfortable. 

Y/N scoffed at Sherlock. He turned to look at her his eyes narrowing on her. A set of yellow eyes below the woman caught Sherlock’s attention. The cat’s ears were turned back and the hair along its spine crept higher and higher into the air. Sherlock stared at the cat. Bjørn stared back at him. 

“What’s that?” Sherlock asked. 

“Bjørn!” John gasped when he saw the cat. Bjørn’s eyes found John and the cat meowed. His head met John’s palm as he greeted the cat. 

Sherlock looked between John, Bjørn, Y/N, and then back to Bjørn. His gaze softened as he concluded the cat meant no harm. He took one step and that was all Bjørn needed to hiss at Sherlock. John jumped back. He looked at Sherlock then at Bjørn. 

“Bjørn,” Y/N said. “What are you doing?”

She tried to pull the cat back, but Bjørn jumped out of her hands. He crept towards Sherlock, hissing whenever the man made any sort of movement. When Sherlock had been corralled into the corner farthest away from Y/N, the cat hopped onto a nearby bookshelf. Bjørn scaled the wooden tower until he rested at the top. He sat tall and glared down at Sherlock. His tail swished in a calculated manner. 

“He’s never done that before,” Y/N noted. 

She watched Bjørn for a moment before shrugging. “I guess he doesn’t like you, Sherlock. Wouldn’t blame him.” 

Sherlock’s eyes widened and his mouth went slack. He glanced back up at the cat before taking a step forward. Bjørn’s golden eyes narrowed, but he made no attempt to stop Sherlock. 

Sherlock took another step forward and entered the kitchen. He whipped around once more to look at Bjørn. If a cat could sneer, Sherlock was positive Y/N’s cat would be the one to do it.  

John and Y/N watched Sherlock dance around the kitchen, his eye on Bjørn and Bjørn’s eye on Sherlock. 

Sherlock shook off Bjørn’s stare and began to open all the cabinet doors. He’d open a cabinet and shake his head. 

“No…no, No!” Sherlock muttered to himself. 

John’s eyes widened. He thought Sherlock was going insane. 

Finally, Sherlock’s eyes widened and he pulled out a box of tea. He did not bother to shut the cabinet doors. 

Y/N scoffed and closed all the doors for him as Sherlock took a seat at the island in her kitchen. John stood there shocked, his face red as a cherry. 

“What do you want, Sherlock? Actually, why are you here?” Probed Y/N.

“Tea,” said Sherlock.

Y/N just stood there across from Sherlock. Her arms crossed over her torso. Behind Sherlock, stood Bjørn. The cat's eyes were now tiny slits. A low growl but quiet growl escaped Bjørn’s mouth. Sherlock's spine shivered. 

 “Don’t just stand there. Sit,” Sherlock commanded. “I don’t think your cat likes me.” 

“Well, that would be because I don’t like you,” Y/N retorted. 

She turned to John and asked, “Would you like anything to drink?”

“I’m alright, thanks,” John said. 

“Tea” repeated Sherlock. His jaw clenched in frustration when he heard Bjørn growl again.  Y/N ignored Sherlock. 

The air grew a bit stuffy, and John cleared his throat. Bjørn’s tail flicked side to side. His growl grew louder once Sherlock turned back around to face the terrifying demon. 

“Bjørn!” Y/N called. The cat’s ear twitched in the direction of its owner. The cat caught sight of Y/N and his large golden eyes could be seen once more. They sparkled in adoration for the woman. Sherlock’s brow pinched in confusion. 

“How’s the weather?” asked John. He hoped to loosen the tension. 

“Huh?” replied Y/N. She walked over to the shelf and picked up Bjørn, cradling him in her arms. The cat purred happily. Sherlock’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. 

“I said “I would like tea”.” Grumbled Sherlock.

Scoffing, Y/N replied. “Really? I don’t recall you saying please. In fact, I also don’t recall ever inviting you into my apartment.” 

Bjørn meowed in agreement. His golden eyes once again narrowed in on Sherlock. 

“Neither did I,” retorted Sherlock as he clenched his fist. 

“Right, but I had a motive. There were gunshots.”

“So do I.”

“You…have a motive to break into my home?” reiterated Y/N. Bjørn’s tail stopped twirling as if he was telling Sherlock to choose his next words carefully. 

Sherlock looked at Bjørn and then back to Y/N. “I need ideas,” He hesitated. 

“I’m not giving you any. Now please leave, before I call the cops,” Y/N stated. 

John’s eyes widened. “Y/N there’s no…”

“Please do, they love me there,” Sherlock interjected.  

 Y/N couldn’t tell if Sherlock was being serious or not. Sherlock stared at her. His eyes urged her to call the cops. Do it, they told her. She rolled her eyes. 

Then Sherlock pulled out his phone, brought up the pictures of the scene, and then handed his phone over to Y/N. Well, Sherlock handed it to John and John gave it to her. Bjørn wouldn’t let Sherlock near Y/N at the moment. 

“Look. Tell me what you think.” Commanded Sherlock. Y/N stood there quite puzzled. The picture showed the crime scene. There wasn’t much to look at. What the hell does he want me to say? “It’s an abandoned place. Wasn’t taken care of. Don’t think it is a good place to live.”

“No, wrong picture. I’m not buying a new flat,” Sherlock said. 

“Sort of hoped you would.” Muttered Y/N so that Sherlock couldn’t hear. She swiped to the next photo. 

“What do you see?!” Demanded Sherlock. His patience was running thin with Y/N and her tiny demon. 

Bjørn loudly hissed at Sherlock. 

“Sherlock!” gasped John.

“Right, if I do this for you will you leave me alone?” Y/N asked eagerly. Sherlock just stared at her. “Will it?”

“Yes”. Begrudgingly Y/N looked down at the new photo and cursed. Bjørn jumped from her arms as she gasped. The cat quickly returned to his post on the bookshelf, staring down at Sherlock. 

John rushed over to her side. “Are you alright?”

“No, a warning would have been nice,” mumbled Y/N whilst glaring at Sherlock. 

“There’s a dead body,” said Sherlock, giving Y/N a slight smile. Y/N couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny or not. “Well?”

“Well?” asked Y/N.

“What do you think?”

“Erm… that’s it's a dead body.” She shrugged her shoulders. She looks towards John for help. But John looked just as confused as her.

“Even John can tell that's a dead body.” Commented Sherlock, leaving John a bit hurt. 

“Well, there’s pink. Lots of it.” Looking up at Sherlock for approval. He nodded in return, urging her to continue. She glanced back at the phone. Her stomach turned. “She’s married. There’s a ring on her ring finger.” Sherlock sighed in disappointment. “What the hell do you want me to say Sherlock?!” exasperated Y/N. 

“Look at her.” interrogated Sherlock.

“Are you wondering if I knew her?” questioned Y/N. “No, Sherlock. I do not know who this is. Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean I’m the killer.”

“You didn’t even look at her! I’m not implying you are. This woman was then found dead. She was travelling. Had a suitcase with her. I would assume she was at the airport.” By now Y/N turned Sherlock out. She pulled the photo up and zoomed in on her face. “She would have been there around the time you landed.”

 “Jesus Christ, No! Sherlock, I don’t find this woman familiar. “

“What?”

“You may not know, but airports are full of people. I was more focused on finding John and getting home than a woman in all pink!”

Bjørn’s ears perked up at his owner’s outburst. He meowed quietly, bringing her out of her frustration with Sherlock. 

“Y/N,” asked John, “are you alright?”

“I’m tired and it’s late. I think you two should be leaving”. She didn’t dare look at them. Sensing that Sherlock wouldn’t get the hint, John got up and practically dragged Sherlock to the door, pushing him out into the hall. 

“Sorry, again.” John apologized. 

“It’s not your fault, John.”

“Goodnight,” muttered John.

“Goodnight”. Then they were gone. Their footsteps were heard walking up the creaking stairs of 221. Y/N sighed. Her head plopped into her hands, and she began to cry. She didn’t know why, but she just knew she needed to cry. Bjørn jumped down from the bookshelf and ran up to his owner. He began to meow, begging her to pick him up. 

She sniffled and picked up Bjørn. She snuggled her face into his warm fur. The cat meowed and Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were puffy and red, and a frown adorned her face. A sight of the displeased Bjørn. He meowed softly to Y/N. The frown faded into a smile. She lovingly tapped Bjørn on the head. 

Somehow, Y/N’s body mindlessly carried her and Bjørn to the bedroom where she collapsed onto the mattress. She twisted around in her sheet, struggling to get comfortable. Bjørn lay on her chest. His purrs pulled her mind out of its hectic state. Eventually, a restless sleep overtook her. 

______

Once the door had closed behind them, John turned towards Sherlock. “Why did you do that? Why did you always have to do that?” He snapped.

“Do what?” quizzed Sherlock. Bringing his head down to level with John’s. 

“You made her uncomfortable. You always push everyone away. She’s nice. She doesn’t deserve that.” Reprimanded John.

“I got what I needed.” 

“I don’t care, Sherlock. I care how you…”

“Just give it up John.”

“No Sherlock, I won’t. Mrs. Hudson has shown us more than enough hospitality while we have been living here. Then you treat her niece with such recklessness. I’m astounded by you. Really Sherlock, get your act together.”

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort but John’s glare shut him down. John made his way to bed, leaving Sherlock standing at the entranceway of their shared flat. 

_____

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[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Highschool Au in "Legend of the Girl in white"

A Long Time Ago in Sakutopia High School, Home of the Lovely cherry blossoms and the mascot is the Celestial Dragon, Alot Of Students Gossips and heard About this new Students Coming in..and they say that this Girl is Always Wearing White All the time..They Don't know why..But rumors began to Spread as well For many reason, Some Say That She was Once had a Boyfriend For a Long time..but turns out He Cheated on her with another girl and run away with her...Some of them think and said That She's representing Herself as a Virgin and waiting for someone on the right moment..but Most of it thought that Saphira's Boyfriend Got Killed in a Car Accident and she made a vow to wear a white Dress..until she find someone worthy...Then in Home room Class, Alot of Students is getting excited to meet this Mystery White-dressed student. Then Their Sensei Began to Quiet Down the Students and said,

Sensei: "Class, I am aware That there is a new Students in our Campus...and as you aware That She wears a white Dress..But according from the previous school she has once been..that She will allowed to walk these halls and goes to the library and the gardens as well...so..Lets Give a Big warm welcome to Our New Student...Ms. Saphira Lorraina Fox"

When the Door is Opened...She came into Class..wearing a lovely White Dress....her Hair is White as Snow, her eyes Is Sapphire blue as the sea..and her skin is pale as a Moonlight...every students saw her with an awe...Alot of Guys was Starstruck by Saphira's beauty..They were head over heels on her..but she Stood Quiet and she Bows respectfully...and The Sensei give her a nod..as she turns and head to the Hallways..Alot of Girls who wanted to Be friends with her..but Some were jealous and envy of Saphira's beauty..alot of Students really love saphira..but Some are wanted to be friends with her...and others..are jealous and envy Of her...And then One Student Name (Your muse name here) Who Fell in Love with Saphira... And So He Decided to send a Love Letter to her in the mysterious ways...So he decided to Disguised his Name into his own Disguised Name "The Angel"...When he Wrote the Love letter to her..and when its done...he put a Nice Scent of cookies on the letter...and taped a White feather on the letter, and then Placed it on the Locker...Then He left for another class, At Lunch time Saphira returns to the Locker and saw the lovely letter that has the Smell of really good baked cookies, She Opens the letter...She made a genuine smiles as the letter says,

"To My Dearest Saphira, When I first Lay eyes on you it felt like you were an angel Sent from heavens. I longing to see you, But in time I have to remain a mystery until Its a right time....Or until the Homecoming dance..But I'll be sending my Letters to you my darling,  When I see you i'll be thinking of you as my Lovely angel...Sign, Your Angel"

She felt curious to see who is an "angel" That Sent a letter...Meanwhile (Your muse name here) decided to plan on what to do to see her without even knowing that he's a Nerd and Thought of Something in process...until...he got home after school..He'd watch the Movie called "Nutty Professor" (1963, and RIP Jerry Lewis)...When he discovered that he can Make an elixir that would make him Change into a Handsome Guy...then it hits him...so he began to create a Serum and use Many rats to test it..until He Finally Made it , the Elixir is (your favorite color) and its glowing...he knew that He'll use it when the time is come...until the Next Day the Announcer began to Announce about a Lovely a Cherry Blossom Dance is Coming in with in 3 weeks, So Every guys is asking the girls for a Dance..and alot of them trying to ask saphira for a dance..but she rejects them...She told them that She needs to know...who is this "Angel" that kept sending her letters...they wanted to Get to her..and trying to lie to her...but saphira gives them a cold glare and walks away...But then..She saw the letter and it says to Meet him at the Red rose cafe...So..he went home and drink the elixir..and then..he transform into a Whole new different person...meanwhile saphira was at the red rose Cafe...until..she sees the most handsome guy comes inside and she said" Are you an "angel" that send me those letters?" And then he answers...

[yesterdays-xkcd]

The robot is pregnant. It isn't mine.

Parody Week: A Softer World [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[The comic uses lowercase letters throughout for all the text, which is written in white rectangular areas superimposed on top of the images. Above the first frame there is a title:] x k c d

[To the left is a red robot with a triangular lower body with panels with buttons and indicators, and the red head on top of two gray sticks has two video cameras for eyes. It is shown standing in a lab with a green brick wall behind it. It stands beneath a poster with text and a piece of paper taped to the wall with unreadable text, but only the first line of text can be seen on these, as the first of the two white text areas in the panel covers the rest. To the right there is a blue table with a computer screen (most of it visible, but it is cut of at the right panel), with blue background and three overlapping windows - unreadable text in the first window, some graphics in the second window, and only white in the last window. Two black items (one looks like a pen) lie on the table to the left, and beneath the table is a shelve where the keyboard lies. A wire goes from the robot to the computer. The other white text box is beneath the computer table, partly obscuring the lower part of the robot as well.] Poster: SAFETY when we open the lab each morning, we tell the robot to kill it's our little joke

[Zooming in on the center of the first frame between robot and table reveals that the paper on the wall was a drawing of the red robot with three wheels. The panel cut down the middle of the robot's eyes to the left, below the text on the paper drawing at the top, through the middle of the screen to the right and at the keyboard at the bottom. Again, there are two white text panels, one over the drawing and beneath it, which goes partly over the screen:] but secretly we're just afraid

[Zooming further in to the edge of the robot's eye, the wheel on the poster, the edge of the screen, and the edge of the table. Only one white panel in the middle over the green wall.] to tell it to love

[Below the first frame is a signature:] r munroe

[loustyleshtommo]

Which songs Taylor has written do you think could be about Louis?

My god, SOOOOOO MANY. There are songs that reference Louis like a bait (tolerate it: took this dagger in me and remove it. Like Louis’s tattoo. hoax: my twisted knife like Louis wrote about in 1D’s Love You Goodbye) Songs like kindred spirits of Louis’s Habit: Come so far from Princess Park (Champagne Problem: This dorm was once a madhouse, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me: You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. also the black dog: old habits died screaming in connection to Louis’s copy of a copy of a copy: I can hear you howling til your lungs hurt. Then there are songs about LouisandHarry as a package deal.

Lover: Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (written to Louis from Harry’s POV), it’s nice to have a friend (oh look at the gays-in-blue wedding in you need to calm down mv. I wonder if this song was written for that particular ceremony. Leeds tent, mario cart/fifa video games, pass me a note on couple tattoos, like)

Fearless (Taylor’s Version From the Vault): That’s When (I know the OG was written way before Taylor and Louis ever met, but she said she revised the lyrics and significantly tweaked the meaning of this song, because her own perspective on needing space and time has changed. Do you protect each other’s solitude? And it’s like the perfect answer to Louis’s Always You.)

RED (From the Vault): track 28 run (ft. Ed Sheeran) #twinning: 1D’s FOUR Ready to Run

reputation: dancing with our hands tied #twinning: 1D’s Midnight Memories Little White Lie

folklore: peace, hoax

evermore: willow (a message to her Coming Out team “wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark”/“every bait and switch was a work of arts”) Coney Island aka duet from the other side of Out of the Woods where they didn’t make it. So I guess it’s not really about LouisandHarry but more like a comparison between Larry and swiftgron. Because Louis & Harry always, always put each other on the centerfold of their songs.

1989: Out of the Woods (written from Louis’s POV, special shoutout to my favorite line the rest of the world was black and white but we were in screaming colors), I Know Places (written from Taylor’s POV first then applied Harry’s POV (the rewinding tape sound is very much an I think I’ve seen this film before and I didn’t like the ending re:swiftgron sunken ship “something happened when everybody finds out”) then she tried to change the ending from Peter losing Wendy aka Taylor losing Diana by switching POV at the very end, just like Harry/1D did in Something Great, to Louis’s POV aka the new Peter) but it wouldn’t been fun if i could’ve been the 1.

TTPD: Track 28 Peter, But Daddy I Love Him

Midnight: Question…? (Started with “I remember” from Out of the Woods manipulated into male pitch. Sounded like Taylor was dealing with being almost out of the closet, so close but so far with the whole thing came crashing down. And wondering how did Louis & Harry deal with almost getting to come out, only to be shoved so much deeper into the closet. How did they make it through TOGETHER pass all that bullshit AGAIN?)

This one is purely my highest hope that it was written for LouisandHarry (given how Taylor usually released a song about two to three years after she first drafted it) and also applied to TaylorandKarlie now

1989: You Are In Love

[galwithalibrarycard]

Stranger Things Femslash Week Moodboard:

Barb Holland x Chrissy Cunningham, 80s Gay Culture

                                                           ___

Barb knows she needs to leave Hawkins the minute she graduates high school. The second she turns 18, if possible. She survived the monsters and the mundane horrors of this town, and now she wants out. She never wants to wear pink or ruffles again.

Chrissy is 17 when she drops out of school. She can’t handle living a lie for a moment longer, and her demons are only ever going to leave her alone if she makes herself disappear. So Chrissy hitches a ride with her next door neighbor and childhood friend, Barb, who’s leaving for New York, and she doesn’t look back.

In the city there are mixtapes and gay bars and comics from the feminist bookstore. There are more queer people than either girl has ever seen in her life, and they’re all more haunted by the specter of death than two girls from Hawkins have ever been. There is activism and protest and darkness; there is sunlight and sex and love. Barb helps Chrissy chop off her hair for the first time in her life, and both when it’s gone and when it grows back, it truly feels like her own in a way it never has before.

Barb and Chrissy carry each other through the dark times, understand each other on a level they share with no one else. They witness the end of the 80s, in the city they’ve adopted as home. There are years on years stretching ahead of them. And together, they live. They live. They live.

                                                           ___

Written/created for @strangerthingsfemslashweek Day 3. Also on AO3 here.

Image Description: A moodboard for the romantic ship between Barb Holland and Chrissy Cunningham, in an AU where they get to experience 80s gay culture together. Top row: A black “SILENCE = DEATH” button with a pink triangle on it, pinned to blue denim; a group of people at a Pride event and/or protest, one of whom holds a cardboard sign with the rainbow letters “Life is short. Be as QUEER as you want”; a neon sign shaped like a rainbow, on a black background. Middle row: A variant cover art for the comic Dykes to Watch Out For, with three butch-of-center lesbians drawn in black lineart on an orange background, with the title in white letters across the middle; a picture of two redheaded young women, one resting her chin on the other’s shoulder, both wearing bright red shirts; two see-through cassette tapes with grey tape inside and a tan tape label on one reading “LOVE SONGS”. Bottom row: A dark city block with purple neon lights, including one sign saying “Cadillac Lounge” in cursive letters; a cross-section of bright red fruit with seeds in the middle, looking rather yonic; a bright red neon sign on a brick backdrop, reading “We’re Not In Kansas Anymore”.