#would he use his hair to roast it though? 🤔

[spectator-zee]

"Use a fork instead, a stick is unsanitary"

Cielo the Starboy and Princess Asha belong to @signed-sapphire

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

6:55 am pdt 4 January 2023 Wednesday

minutes ago it felt that incubus stabbed probably intestines and I felt tension or pressure that hurt 😖😖😖😖😵😵😵😵 at least 4+ spots. Incubus is probably trying to give me leaky gut. Are different rice 🍚 and still giving diarrhea. 😵😵😵😵🥺

I believe he had a secret relationship with Sierra LaMar, and kidnapped her. and he’s trying to kill me bcz I’m similar to her: she was 5’2”; I was 5’1.5” before 2017. We both are half Asian and half white. We both have dark hair and brown eyes 👀? We both grew up with a sister. Dads are white. Moms are Asian. I talked to someone online who offered to buy plane ✈️ tickets 🎫 to meet him because he liked me so much is what he said.

Sierra LaMar was active on the internet/Twitter. I found something online, I hope 🤞 I was not being gas ⛽️ lit 🔥. There was a rumor she had a secret? Boyfriend. I think they got the wrong guy. 7:06 am pdt Sierra and I are both born on Saturdays too I think 💭? We are also complementary astrological zodiac signs 🪧 ♎️ Libra. She’s born year of the rat 🐀 and I’m year of the ox 🐂. Sie air ah. Sea 🌊 air 🌬 7:10 am pdt she was a cheerleader 📣? And then she stopped 🛑 ✋??? When she went missing she was wearing a sweatshirt (sharks hockey 🏒). I had hypotheses but I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if I researched enough to see if it could be true. If Sierra had a secret boyfriend, did her grades drop too much bcz of him and had to drop out of cheerleading? We see stuff about was it ecstasy? Alcohol 🍷 drinking? Where did she get those and how? Was she getting allowance enough to buy? Even though she’s no longer in cheer , was it bcz of bad grades ? Would her parents still give her allowance if she had bad grades?? Did the secret boyfriend give it to her? Was he a drug dealer? An addict? If he was the one, how did he afford the drugs? It’s a rock and roll 🎸 kinda lifestyle to do drugs, no? 7:18 am pdt

is it possible the secret boyfriend got her pregnant 🤰 and she was hiding it? Did she put her trust in the wrong people? Were they rich drug dealers who had friends in Saratoga California? Did the cops hastily assume it was a hoax and that she was dead ☠️ without finding her body? Is it not a huge disservice to those that are missing to be assumed dead ☠️?

looking back at crimes such as Jaycee? Dugard? And Elizabeth smart, we know that there was a lot that wasn’t done before. I read they interviewed past s*x offenders, but was that a waste of time? Aren’t they more likely to be watched? Therefore less likely to do something again? I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ I would think so. Why is it that people who live in a rich 🤑 area with probably high income would be overlooked? When they probably have the most free time and resources to be organized high crime? 7:28 am pdt I guess we should look at uvaldi ? Shooting as a clue. Maybe some cops 👮‍♀️ are scared shitless 💩. 7:29 am pdt or maybe they’re involved with prostitution and they assumed prostitution is ok. 👌 PAIN 👂 ear 7:30 🕢 am pdt

7:31 am pdt if incubus is their god, then I guess so! 7:31 am pdt

7:31 am pdt I once saw online antolin’s birth year is goat 🐐. Trying to remember if I saw 👀 his month and day. 5 years difference between Sierra and Antolin. Same difference btwn me and the guy I first assumed was the one I was talking to when I found a social media profile years later with the same email address that was used to talk to me. 7:34 am pdt a lot of sirens 🚨 passed and incubus is still roasting me in the rib cage area/making me 😷 cough. I read recently Antolin was a father and lived with the mother of his children? 👶 at the time. 7:37 am pdt do you think 🤔 he could have done it? 7:37 am pdt

10:42 am pdt I fell asleep 😴 and woke up to my right hand 🤚 being roasted alive!!!! 🧐😞😖🥵😤😫😭🥺😱😰 why are they doing this to me?!?!?!?!?! They are always actors trying to pretend they are decent when they are not! DONT be fooled by they’re innocent 😇 looks and talk every thing he said about being hot 🥵 was directed towards me and immediately before all the news came out about cheating on behati prinsloo he was trying to convince me that I am the mother who’s children and his real wife!!!!! So within the last 24 hours when I found a reel on Instagram it read the note 📝 and the way it sounded suddenly felt it was directed at me when they read the I should not have spoken to anyone else but my wife...!!!! I guess sumner and Maryka are his wives already and I’m not even though he tried to put in my head that we have 3 kids already together. 10:52 am pdt. I never said to his Sagittarius ♐️ friend that I liked him. He moved too quickly into kissing 😽 me for that to happen and once it happened I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ I seem have difficulty falling in love. I fell in love with guys I never kissed 💋!!!! But once the relationship moves too quickly into the physical I tend NOT to fall in love. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if it’s a curse, or coincidence (HOT left side lung 🫁 cough 😷), I seem to fall into a weird mental and weird emotional situation/phase that it makes it even more difficult for me to be myself when I already have a curse on me/my feelings/ automatic negative thoughts 💭. He’s REALLY trying to kill me. He made my body look 👀 absurd and unrealistically HOT 🥵 scar tissue that I wish you saw 👀 (not saw 🪚!!!!) 🎶🎼🎵 red hot chili 🌶 peppers 🌶 11:02 am pdt 😭😱😭😱😭😱😭😱😭

when I was seeing Sagittarius ♐️ Friend of incubus I remember him asking, probably before he forced me to have sex with him, he asked if I liked him, in the middle/in between making out with him, I remembered looking 👀 away and feeling shame and guilt that I was not able to feel more than physical attraction him at that point. I remember not replying!!!! And the silence should have been the answer within itself. And I think I remember we might have continued making out again. I recently thought 💭 I remembered being the car 🚗 with him sometime maybe 🤔 was it days after, laying in the back seat 💺, probably before he forced me to have sex with him (please refer to prior posts for more details) in his bedroom 🛌 , he was on top of me and he pulls his dick 🍆 out of I think 🤔 was it sweat 💦 pants 👖? And I asked him something like this : are you ready for little feet 🦶 of scotties (he goes by middle name Scott, like it’s his first name) to be running 🏃‍♂️ around? Translation: are you ready for Scott junior or babies 👶 - for me to be pregnant 🤰? He had a weird eyes 👀 staring off as if he was a deer 🦌 in headlights kind of look 👀 in his eyes. No answer verbally so I pulled his pants 👖 up probably gently too over his dick 🍆. And I think 🤔 it happened before? He forced me to have sex with him ? (I f I say no the first time - don’t FORCE me to change my answer 😡🤬) it’s as if he decided to have amnesia. 11:17 am pdt

I never said to any man I had sex with that I was pregnant 🤰. I heard some cultures you know what happens if you are caught in bed 🛌 together doing it the parents will force the man 👨 at gun point to marry the daughter. I’m glad I’m not married NOW. 😡🤬 that actually happened to my mom’s ex-boyfriend. And before she found out, the promise ring 💍 he gave her fell off her hand 🤚 and into a river. 11:21 am pdt it was a sign 🪧 from god that he cannot keep his promises. That man 👨 was rich and he was 25 years old when she was 16 years old. My mom said she wanted/needed finish her education FIRST Before getting married (marriage = pregnancies 🤰 ). I see a lot of weird accounts on Instagram come up 🆙 saying Adam Noah Levine is their baby daddy 😱🤯😱😭😖🥵😤 it’s so weird to me that it’s very likely TRUE that he is a father to multiple women’s babies 👶 and he probably doesn’t really care about any of them. I was going to type something then I suddenly forgot. Herschel walker? Was it ? His son, Christian walker? On Twitter I found him complaining that his father is the father to other children after him and that he’s not a good father and he pretends to be. Makes me think Adam Noah Levine thinks he’s special and exempt from being monogamous. My mom grew up 🆙 around the Catholic Church ⛪️ she said they gave free cookies 🍪. She said even if you are divorced god still only recognizes your first marryiage only. When 2 become 1 🎶🎼🎵 spice girls. 11:31 am pdt imagine how difficult it is to raise a child 👶 as a single parent needing someone to help watch the kid 🧒 who you can trust who you hope cares as much as you do as the mother, but you don’t Bcz he ran off to father another baby 👶 with a different woman 👩🏻? Can a man 👨 ever love ❤️ a child the same as a mother when she grows the baby 🍼 in her own belly? 🛎 if you watched Ellen with behati prinsloo as guest to save the rhinos 🦏 you might have seen and heard 👂 her say she can’t do 5, even if Adam wants it she has to carry it herself. It’s a big deal if a man wants to be “Don Juan”. But you know what? Don’t try to change them. Let them be. 11:38 am pdt it seems like a nice, fairy 🧚🏽‍♀️ tail/tale idea 💡 that there could be a lasting romantic friendship love 💕, but is it only a figment of our imagination 💭 that men are willing to participate in the SHORT RUN 🏃🏻‍♀️? Not the long, genuine, monogamous devoted marriage ideal? 🃏 joker clown 🤡 to contribute as an “actor” in a temporary fantasy? 11:42 am pdt 😔😞😤🥵😤🥵😤🥵😖😭😖😭😖😭🥺😰

this is a frightening world we live in, where the “friendly” faces we see are all acts. Especially on a big stage. 11:44 am pdt

men are frightening. And this is their world. They own us and abuse us and make it harder for us intentionally, in all sorts of ways from conception and birth to pregnancy and old age. I accidentally put an emoji after age 😏 that one. I don’t have this on my face now and I don’t think I will ever naturally smirk like that about old age especially with what I have been going through. 11:47 am pdt 😤🥵😤🥵😤🥵😤

11:48 am pdt hungry 😞 . if it’s a joke to sumner and Maryka and Alyson that I’m burning 🥵 to death ☠️ which I’m starting to think 🤔 and feel now after a lot of reviewing, I feel very disturbed and disappointed at the world 🌎 we live in and who we call gods. I do feel guilt and shame every day of my life and it helped kept me celibate on some days which add up to a lot of days since I have been celibate for more than 10 years by choice I had believed. I really had to swear off dating permanently to enable this to be a reality. When someone is addicted because of demonic forces, like alcoholism I think some people really have to stay away from it physically? My mom dated someone who had a history of being an alcoholic and when the 3 of us moved in together she made me carry a wine 🍷 bottle to a neighbor and gave it to her for free. 11:55 am pdt sometimes people are more sympathetic to other people’s curses. Probably generational curses, too. 🧙‍♀️ 🧙 Merlin 🧙‍♂️ incubus offspring. Working for kings. Maybe kings of alcoholic beverages? Fueled capitalism. Their god = devil 👿? 11:58 am pdt

5:30 🕠 pm pdt 5:31 pm pdt 5:33 pm pdt I think I hear 👂 rain 🌧 tummy ache 😖 stomach pain incubus hurt 😞 me . I really believe he’s raping my cousin. 🤢 gross 🤮. Dispicable. He gave me signs 🪧 to mislead me. He made me hot and he made all year hot 🥵 here. And last year, too. These last 5 years he has been robbing me of strength. In 2019 I found online 60 year old woman 👵 body builder with awards/or trophy 🏆 for strength competitions. At beginning of year I was scared 😱 I think I remember and then they made me fall backwards on my back ribs against the coffee ☕️ table = it was strong 💪. Now it’s weak. They were conning me, tricked me into thinking they were strengthening it now with the thoughts 💭 they gave me rather than tell me word for word with their own voices what they were doing. That’s their psychology. They will use all sorts of ways to lie to you. Incubus once teeeted everything he says is “bullshit” probably x3 it’s gone now. Twitter.

5:44 pm pdt they heat me up 🆙 to rob me of strength and killl me. I think I heard 👂 them make me believe I heard on the radio 📻 I will die in the morning the lyrics are there will be joy in the morning. He made my middle finger 🖕 move, then he hurt my left hand knuckles. 5:47 pm pdt.

5:56 pm pdt I read a few times online, hopefully he wasn’t gas ⛽️ lighting me back then,( but everything he seems to do seems to be to gas ⛽️ light, but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ mayb what I read is true) that mr. incubus was fine when his parents divorced. Pain jaw bone 🦴. I probably read it around 2014, and then I read stuff that he was thinking that he wasn’t going to get married . And then I heard? Him say once that he thought it was going to make him look 👀 like a creep if he didn’t get married? Or something like that? It was weird the tone the delivery 🚚 as if it was meant for me to hear 👂 for some weird reason. 6:03 breathing out extremely HOT 🥵 air 6:04 pm pdt.

knuckles = nuke????? 6:04 pm pdt

6:23 pm pdt there was something I did on accident but the incubus was trying to make me believe it was not. Probably bcz he made me do it. He can make your body do and say things like a puppet. And he can trick you into believing it was all you. He choreographed everything. He will give you feelings that feel genuine/real and give confusion with quick changing thoughts and feelings and with hold memory, so you are left feeling with what he wants you to remember. I remember pausing a lot and quick changing thoughts and emotions and immediate forgetfulness but somehow I did not completely forget but somehow made to forget in the moment. I don’t recall moving fast. I remember pausing in between thoughts 💭. I remember moving to stretch my legs 🦵 when I pedaled the tricycle. How did I fit on that thing? I don’t remember how tall it was, but these were big enough for a bunch of young men also to ride. I remember pausing in between pedals each moment. I nitially I did not recall moving quickly on that thing. I am sorry 😞 if I did. I was very gungho in thinking 🤔 that I didn’t move /pedal faster . I think 🤔 it was also probable that the boy who was probably 8 years old? On a tricycle ahead of might have also simultaneously started slowing down now that I think 🤔 about how it was probable that I caught up 🆙 to him! And somehow with out trying much , I thought I remembered but now my mind wants to believe I sped on a tricycle. Was it possible? Now I don’t know for sure. Incubus has been cutting my legs 🦵 a lot and may have shortened legs 🦵 😖😭😤🥵😤🥵

Pain! 😖right inner ankle bone 🦴. In 2009?? David clay diamond 💍 diamonds 💎 dash I hurt myself. I think it is karma for the tricycle incident. Also when I was about 12 years old I flew over my bicycle 🚴🏼 while trying learn to ride with out training wheels and almost landed 🛬 on my head but instead landed 🛬 on my shoulders. Also around that time we are hit by a woman?? driving a car 🚙 it was my mom’s first car 🚗 and it was white. My sister hears a voice that told her to switch to the middle seat 💺 in the back of the car before the accident happened, within minutes at a stop light 💡 . I believe it saved her life and she did not tell me until around 5-6 years ago. 2016/2017 ish? It was before we moved to alum rock 🪨, before 2019. 6:49 pm pdt when I hurt myself in 2009? I used my left heel to stop 🛑 the razor scooter 🛴 directly onto the ground which was paved black, I was going fast 💨 Down a relatively steep hill in a park in San Francisco. It did weird things to my heel that seemed to slosh and move like jelly years later, and it hurt a lot for a while immediately afterwards . I t felt like my hip and butt were not in proper alignment anymore. I did not go see a doctor 👩‍⚕️ for it. I was shy again? And it was troublesome already? With previous experiences of going for my chronic eczema and infections on the same university’s medical insurance. This was before I got a job. Because my motive for applying was to hopefully 🙏 win the ring diamond 💎 💍 so I can pay 💰 off bills 💸 from school 🏫. It was stupid though because I was completely unprepared and unmatched to the competition. There were questions you had to find/solve using physics I think I recalled one ☝️. It was irrational of me to sign up 🆙 but I did. Nausea. And vertigo. 7:01 pm pdt.

7:03 pm pdt I remember he cried when the tricycle I was pedaling made contact with him. It might have touched his left ? Hip. The fooot I used to stop 🛑 the razor scooter 🛴 was my left foot 🦶. I stood for a minute probably, thinking 💭 what should I do . I consider staying and in my mind the thought 💭 enters (vertigo stop 🛑 making this harder for me to type) coughing and peeing. Pain head. Difficultly breathing started still hot 🥵 left side ribs hot 🥵 air. 7:09 pm pdt that I should only stay if everyone else stays. I think I did not want to face it alone. There was a part of me that wanted to leave , I don’t remember if it was an immediateinitial feeling but I didn’t move for about a minute pondering 🤔 what am I going to do? I did not plan on doing anything like this at all. Then a guy who was on a tricycle, who I don’t think 🤔 did anything wrong at that place, screamed at me “RUN!” I still don’t know why he felt compelled to yell it at me at all . I don’t remember even talking to him much before that. It was all VERY STRANGE. But I comply and I ran. This was around early 2006, before April. There was something I was going to type but incubus is withholding my memory again. I remembered gung-ho thinking 🤔 I did not pedal that fast 💨 on a tricycle. And then my memory thereafter was me being very fast 💨 and I think that was not physically possible for it to have happened that way. He made me feel like I’m lying 🤥 and bad. Oh, a lot of times within last 5 years things would fall and hit me and it would hurt a lot! Like a pick comb falling on my leg 🦵 I realized this week that maybe 🤔 it should have not hurt that much the way it did and I realized they were choreographing inflicting more pain with the object falling and touching/hitting me. I cannot say for sure but if I did not go fast enough to really feel like a big impact on the boy’s hip that maybe the pain was not 100% because of me and the tricycle. I t might be wishful thinking 💭 that I didn’t hurt him but idk. I believe that the demon lord sometimes talks to some men directly if they have a covenant. I f they don’t have a covenant then he would use people’s brains 🧠 and body against their will like a puppet but use a lot of psychological tactics. I felt guilty and shame for hurting him, and even more for running 🏃🏻‍♀️ away. It wasn’t long before that I had tested for a learning disability. The test giver said my left brain 🧠 worked slower than my right brain 🧠 so the communication between the two halves are slow is what I recalled him saying. The disability test was through exams on abilities. Math 🧮, probably memory recall? Other stuff I have difficulty remembering. 7:31 pm pdt. 7:32 pm pdt felt my eye 👁 sight get fuzzy for few seconds. I don’t believe I m apart of a covenant. I think demon lord probably told me in 2018? While he inflicted a lot of unbearable PAIN on me, my bones and flesh. I felt like I was dying with every hit/cut. 7:34 pm pdt and I felt like I wanted to die. 7:35 pm pdt. If I was a billionaire I would repay that boy 👦🏾 For whatever damages I may have caused. When Adnan pushed me when I was about 9 years old after my birthday I think? And I landed on my wrist and it broke I don’t believe my mom asked what happened but she might have overheard something and met me more than halfway down the stairs and asked me if it hurt and it did. I don’t believe adnans family knew. Refugees from Europe forget which part Soviet Union or something. The devil made me say something I didn’t mean to say and I was surprised that I said it. He’s making me feel like a liar about that every time I recall it. He is trying to alter my memory and he’s almost successful, he made me doubt myself a lot. I asked my mom a minute ago if she knew and she didn’t. They never paid for breaking my wrist. The doctor put a cast on it. 7:53 pm pdt I think it was about a year ago when we went to a laundry 🧺 mat there was a thing on tv 📺 that there are people who survived being run 🏃🏻‍♀️ over by cars 🚗. Sometimes god prepares us for events he planned to happen. Demon lord. 755p

[hb-writes]

Burns and Blemishes

Summary: 1923 in the Little Lady Blinder universe, shortly after The Council. While spending a relaxing weekend with her brother and sister-in-law in the country, Clara burns herself a bit by forgetting to cover the blemish on her neck.

Featuring: Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Linda Shelby, Esme Shelby, and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: canon-typical content, John/ Arthur being sexist idiots.

Request: A story about Arthur finding that Clara have an hickey? 🤔 (from Anon). 

I started the google doc for this on January 7th, 2021 and finished it on October 11th, 2021. So, that’s fun. 

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there.

--

Arthur rehearsed a few variations of his opening statement in his head, stumbling over the words even as he muttered them in the privacy of his own mind, his steps over the downy grass as hesitant and imprecise as the conversations in his head. He moved slowly across the yard with meandering steps, almost as though he was still undecided on whether he'd actually arrive at the spot where his youngest sister was settled on the grass, lounging in a rare bit of lingering sun out near where they kept the chickens.

Arthur hadn't even seen the thing he'd been sent out to discuss, and he couldn't see it from where he was now either, not with Clara's thick waves left loose, the bulk of her mane settled over her shoulder, a single strand absently twirled between the fingers of one hand while she held a book open with the other.

The sight of her there, unaware, absorbed in the words on the page before her…That was the little sister Arthur most often pictured in his mind. The reality of who she'd become somehow never quite matched up with the version of her he carried inside, the version of Clara Shelby that was still just a little girl.

Their Clara.

And their Clara would never…

Linda had been insistent though, had insisted that Arthur's little sister was sporting a blemish on her neck, a fucking 'love bite' had been what his wife had actually called it, the mark reportedly bared while the ladies were working in the kitchen, exposed while Clara's hair set tied back with a ribbon as she chopped the vegetables to accompany Linda's roast.

Hours had passed since then, the house already filled with the bouquet of a nearly ready dinner when Arthur pushed open the front door. Linda had met him there, almost seeming as if she'd been waiting just a few steps away, eager for him to come home though she'd turned her cheek to his kiss and swiftly delivered the news about his sister instead, insisting that he do his duty as the eldest brother and discuss it, insisting he set the girl straight about boys and proper behavior and all of the things Linda was quite certain Clara wasn't receiving elsewhere.

'She needs your help, Arthur.'  

That’s what Linda had said, already knowing the way those words would affect him, knowing how he longed to be a help rather than a hindrance, knowing his gentle misguided heart swelled at the mere prospect.

The woman had entered the family on the pretense that Arthur Shelby was redeemable, and while much of the family was beyond salvaging, Linda thought the youngest ones held an opportunity for redemption as well, the babies naturally possessing a little more room for accepting a bit of good influence, a little more capable of integrating something different from what the rest of them had been exposed to for decades now.

That was why Linda was more open to the little ones, more willing to have the twins stop by for lunch, more willing to take on John and Esme's lot for an evening, or even Ada's Karl though he was a city boy with ideas and words too big and slick for a four-year-old.

Linda liked to think the kids were teachable, malleable, like her Arthur. A challenge, for certain, but not an impossible task. They could be rescued, towed from the jaws of a sinister life, guided toward what was good, taught the proper way of things.

Linda believed it of Clara because she knew the girl used weekends at their farmhouse as an escape, always seeking a bit of reprieve and solace when she stayed with them, and Linda took that as evidence that Clara's day to day, filled with the business and school and Tommy's influence, wasn't quite right. It was all either far too much or simply not enough for the girl. And whichever was the truth, Linda saw Clara's discontent as an opportunity, a way forward.

Arthur was often easy enough to convince regarding the interference with Clara, the man often showing a certain sensitivity and openness to suggestions from his wife about the youngest's needs that had Linda thinking he might be a good father someday, the doting he spared to the twins and his siblings' children some of Arthur's best showing.

Arthur hadn't needed much prompting to interfere on this particular subject either, already out the door before he'd fully processed his wife's allegation.

Their Clara was too young to be adorned in marks up and down her neck, too young to be allowing some boy to brand her in that way for everyone to see, too young to be letting people get a certain kind of idea about the type of girl she was.

And it did say something about her because as far as Arthur was aware she wasn't seeing anyone. He had heard the insistent denial of even a slight interest come straight from her mouth just a month or so before, and that made things all the worse if she was letting just anyone…

Arthur released a sigh and Clara mumbled a distracted hello at the sound, her eyes pulling away from the book cradled in her hand for just a moment to watch her brother's distracted journey towards her.

Arthur grunted, a hand moving to rub at the back of his neck, the skin there suddenly feeling hot as he realized he'd have to make an opening.

"I…uh…can you maybe…" Arthur's foot shuffled on the lush grass, the pressure of it exposing a bit of dirt he was sure Linda would get after him for later. "…Can you put that down for a…"

Clara sat up and marked her spot as she closed the book, studying her brother more closely, shielding her eyes with a hand and squinting up to him as she adjusted to the sun shining just behind him.

"Everything alright Arthur?"

So clear it was to Clara that her brother wasn't alright with all of the stammering and the pallid tone gracing his cheeks, the way he kept pushing his long hair from his face, approaching her as though she was a wild animal he needed to be cautious of, but she asked the question anyhow, hoping the inquiry would spur him into saying whatever it was he came out for rather than making them both suffer through a quarter of an hour of him building up to it.

Clara truthfully just wanted to speed things along, to be left alone so she could get back to her book. Though she usually enjoyed the quiet company of Arthur and Linda, usually found their calm home to be a treat, Clara found that something was lacking this time, or maybe stifling was what she found it, because she'd wished for something else from the very moment Arthur picked her up from Arrow House and she'd set herself to sitting alone with her book as often as she could rather than accompanying her brother about or keeping Linda company.

Clara couldn't quite set her mind on what precisely she was longing after, just knew it was something different, something as simple as a bit of distraction, maybe, but whatever it was, Clara had quickly decided that perhaps chasing after a weekend of quiet and calm hadn't been the best strategy.

Maybe she would have been better off with John and Esme and the kids for the weekend.

Or staying on with Charlie and the staff at Arrow House.

Part of Clara knew she was really yearning a bit for her sister, Ada. She had even phoned her with the intention of spilling her secrets and sharing her woes, but they'd ended up chatting about nothing instead, some part of Clara freezing up as the phone line crackled between them, reminding her of the distance, even if she was only a train ride away in London. 

She'd let Ada prattle on about Karl's goings-on instead, humming at all the proper places, playing the part of an active listener, a good sister.

Arthur rubbed at his chin rather than answering Clara's question, his fingers giving a measure of extra attention to the stubble he'd allowed to grow out over a few days. "Maybe you should come inside and we'll—"

Clara pushed herself to her feet without accepting her brother's outstretched hand.

"Arthur, what are you on about? Just tell me."

Arthur hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as his tongue and lips tested out the shapes needed to form the words that never came and Clara's heartbeat sped up, a lump forming in her throat as her mind drifted to her brothers and her sister, to her aunt and cousin, to the numerous nieces and nephews, a handful of scenarios coming to the front of her mind on account of Arthur's stammering.

"Arthur!"

Arthur's eyes snapped to Clara's, finding them wide and unblinking, and his fingers grazed his own neck above the collar almost as if he was dealing with a stubborn itch.

"The uh…"

Arthur took a step forward, gesturing toward the same spot on his sister's neck.

Clara froze, the rigidity only noticeable for a moment before she shifted her stance and folded her arms over her chest.

"The what, Arthur?"

The impatience in Clara's voice, that sharp, condescending quality that always reminded Arthur a bit of Polly and a bit of Tommy and had no business coming from his sweet little sister's mouth shook something loose, knocking Arthur's thoughts into place and fortifying the courage he'd been lacking since stepping out of the house.

"The blemish on your bloody neck," Arthur answered, the words steady and clear, and coming out in a great rush. He heaved a great sigh at finally spitting them out, readying himself for rebuttal only to be met with Clara's furrowed brow.

"There's something on my neck?" Clara reached up to touch the skin of her throat, her red-polished fingers barely grazing over the surface of her skin, nowhere near to the supposed blemish. "What is it? Some dirt or—"

Arthur huffed, stepping forward as he flicked Clara's hair over her shoulder, his finger extended to the spot where his eyes tried not to look. "That!"

"What?" Clara answered, a bit of concern lacing her voice as her fingertips shifted just a bit to the right side of her neck in their search.

Clara knew full well what her brother was on about, had spent a fair share of her time studying it in the mirror, the little mark about the size of a small coin, positioned on the soft skin just below her ear. It was mostly faded now, nearly come around to the sickly shade of yellow that meant it was on its way out, but Clara should have known better than to be so careless in showing it.

On his own, Arthur would never catch something so small and slight, especially not with Clara's long hair draped over her shoulder, but Clara figured Linda had probably known before even seeing it. The woman had an unnatural sense for that type of thing, had probably smelled the sin on her when she walked through the door, not that Clara considered a bit of consensual kissing anything close to a sin.

"You know what I'm talking about," Arthur answered, stepping closer still, the space between them finally swallowed up. "And you better tell me who did it so I can make sure it doesn't happen again."

Clara bit her cheek, the moment of hesitation just enough that Arthur was now giving her a hard stare and at the same moment that Arthur shifted, about to reach out for her, Clara allowed her fingertips to graze the spot Arthur had been trying to get his sister to acknowledge.

"Oh! This?" Clara asked, her lips forming a small circle of enlightenment, a sparkle shining in her rolling eyes before she laughed. "Arthur, that's nothing to worry about."

"It's not nothing. My little sister's letting some man…some boy…tarnish her and—"

"Oh, come off it, Arthur," Clara scoffed, rearranging the shield of hair over her shoulder. "You've got it wrong. It's just a burn…from trying to use that silly contraption Ada bought. The curling iron? I should never have tried to do it on my own."

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he studied his sister's face searching for some sign of a lie though he had not a clue as to what to look for.

"So, you haven't—"

Clara thrust her hand forward, showing off a nearly identical mark on her finger. "Look here, Arthur. I have another just there. You think it's more likely for someone to be kissing me on the finger or that I've been clumsy and burned myself twice?"

Arthur chuckled and met Clara's eye, taking a breath that heaved his entire body before he settled a hand on Clara's shoulder, shifting it after a moment to cup her cheek. "Just a little burn, then? Our clumsy Clara at it again?"

"Yes, Arthur," Clara answered, rolling her eyes at the nickname before she turned her attention to the burn on her finger, an actual burn she’d obtained from using her sister's curling iron, a repercussion Ada thought of as well deserved seeing as Clara hadn't asked to use the thing in the first place.

"Just a bloody burn," she continued, "and it hurts like hell, but it's nothing for you to throw a strop over."

“Well, alright then.” Arthur nodded and then he pulled Clara’s head forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You should be more careful, sister.” 

Clara nodded. “I know, I know. Makes for difficult work with page-turning." She glanced down towards the book she'd left sitting on the blanket. "I certainly won’t be trying the silly thing on my own again anytime soon.” 

“Well, good,” Arthur answered, glancing back toward the house, catching a quick glimpse of Linda watching them through a window. “Alright, then. I suppose your sister-in-law’s about ready with dinner.”

“Sure.” Clara nodded, forcing a smile. “I’ll come set the table as soon as I’m through with this chapter.”

She watched her brother with an easy smile as he ambled back towards the house waiting until Arthur closed the door behind him before leaning back against the side of the barn and releasing a heavy sigh, her fingertips moving up to skim over the blemish that had caused all of this trouble. Clara's eyes fell closed as she rested her hand against her neck. She's almost forgotten about it while reading her book, the first time in close to a week that her mind had allowed her to escape from the muddling moment and the thoughts of the boy who had given it to her.

She stood there against the barn as her breathing and thoughts slowly returned to normal. Clara picked up the discarded book and willed herself back into the story though she only ended up reading the same passage over and over, tied up as her mind was with the most recent plot twist of her own saga, occupied by her own scenes and characters and struggles. She huffed and gathered up her things, deciding on heading inside though she still held the book open in her hand as she came into the house and leaned on the counter beside the sink.

Clara had been just about to turn a page when she heard the quiet clearing of a throat, the sound in the serene kitchen distinct enough that Clara glanced up to see Arthur and Linda stood side by side at the threshold.

"I believe your brother has something he'd like to say," Linda offered, her arms settled across the middle as she took a step back, letting Arthur stand half a step ahead.

Clara leaned her hip against the counter as she glanced at her brother, both eyebrows raised.

"More than one something," Arthur grumbled, stepping further from his wife's side.

Clara's arms settled over her chest as her brother stepped forward, a foot slowly shuffling back as he approached.

"What is it, Arthur?"

“You know what it is. That—" Arthur reached out and flicked her hair over her shoulder again, taking the book with his other hand and tossing it down on the counter with a thud.

"Hey, that's my—!"

"That—" Arthur continued as he pointed a finger at her neck. "—s'not a burn."

Clara's other foot shuffled back. "Arthur, I already told you—"

“You think you can pull one over on me? Think your brother's too old or too stupid to know the difference between burn and a...a...” Arthur sputtered on, still struggling to describe exactly what was there on his sister’s neck, a flush evident in his cheeks and the tips of his ears even at the attempt.

“Arthur, I—"

“No. No more." Arthur grabbed Clara's shoulder and guided her stumbling feet toward the dining room. "I've already had enough talk outta you.”

The extent to which Arthur was about ready to burst was clear in the tight grip he set on Clara's shoulder. He had held himself in the throes of inaction for close to ten minutes, ten long minutes of marinating while he waited for his younger sister to make her way inside, a near-record on his part, something made possible only through the calming encouragement of his wife and the presence of a God Clara wasn’t quite certain she had any faith in.

Especially not right now.

Arthur pulled out a chair at the table, issuing an order to take a seat when Clara continued to stand beside him looking down at the chair as if she'd rather lose a limb than settle herself in it and he then applied a bit of pressure to lower her into the seat. "Sit. We'll eat while we wait for the boys."

Clara pushed back against his guiding hand, a complaint poised on her lips when Linda beat her to it, the woman's request for clarification coming in a sharp tone and a few rushed words, her pitch trilling up a few notes on the sounding of Arthur's name.

"The boys, Arthur?"

Clara swallowed a chuckle at the sight of Linda's widened eyes, her perfectly straight spine with her head tilted to the side as she waited for an answer for her husband.

"Yeah, Linda." Arthur nodded, removing his hand from Clara's shoulder and settling it on the back of the seat his sister had yet to occupy. "Called them right away for a family meeting. Seemed the best idea."

Linda's small body heaved with a tight breath as she silently retreated into the kitchen, leaving Clara alone to calculate the reach of her misstep, to determine which boys Arthur was referring to.

Clara was quite certain Tommy had plans to be away from business through Sunday afternoon at the earliest. And she knew Finn was staying on the lane this weekend. John was meant to be taking his lot to camp with the Lee family for a few days. And Michael, though not technically a brother, was often looped in on these types of things, so Clara tried to account for his whereabouts as well, tried to remember what he'd said about his weekend plans while she'd been distracted thinking about other things on Thursday afternoon. She hoped she was right in thinking he'd gone away with his mother for a few days.

As much as Clara wasn’t happy at the prospect of her brothers converging on Maypole, it was Linda who seemed put out by the impending arrival, exasperated by her husband’s rash action in calling the ring of Shelby heathens to their home, and a bit mad with herself for not intercepting her husband's plans, for not knowing his next moves before he took them.

The woman often meddled, always encouraging Arthur to take one avenue or another in any given situation, instructing him on how best to handle his family, on how best to handle himself, on how best to take a bit of initiative, but Linda didn’t like to be surprised, and more than that, she didn’t like what the presence of other Shelbys often brought out in her husband.

Clara was quite certain that Linda preferred the exposure to her in-laws to be in small, controlled doses. She found no fault with an occasional weekend passed with Clara occupying their guest room, or with a quiet dinner with the twins, a planned Sunday lunch with others, with the menu and start and end times determined before the invitation was accepted, but this was something different. Something impromptu, something hosted in her home but well out of her purview.

And the Shelbys wouldn’t be controlled for this. 

If only she’d only let the blemish be, let the girl have her secrets and her love bites, the three of them would be sitting down to a quiet dinner with civilized conversation. They'd eat their vegetables and roast and then the three of them would finish with tea and the pie she'd baked fresh that afternoon…

Knowing Linda was just as unhappy as she was about the boys impending arrival, Clara hoped that after her sister-in-law retreated to the kitchen she would return with more than just their dinner. Clara hoped that after three minutes of quiet contemplation or prayer or whatever it was that Linda did in the moments of solace she stole for herself when shocked or overwhelmed or frustrated, she’d come up with something to get them out of this. 

Arthur followed his wife to the threshold, speaking through the open doorway into the kitchen. “It uh…it’ll only be John who's coming just now. Tom’s away. And Finn’s out, but I left word with Scud at the shop so Isiah's out looking for him, and Michael’s—”

Clara rounded on her brother, her cheeks instantly growing warm as she took a few steps toward him. She’d never hear the end of it now that he left word at the shop. The entire company would know whether they’d been directly informed or not. “You what?”

Arthur glanced at her. “I thought I told you to sit.”

“Arthur, why would you go and tell—”

“No, that’ll be enough out of you.” He crossed the room and pulled Clara's chair out a bit further. “Sit.”

Despite his penchant for quick anger, Arthur wasn’t usually the one Clara concerned herself with about such things, not the one she worried about blowing things out of proportion, not the one so stubborn he couldn’t be moved, but she had lied to him, had tried to pull one over on him, and Clara knew her brother to be particularly sensitive to that. He always allowed it of Tommy, but he was sick of being told, rather than doing the telling when it came to the younger ones, sick of the casual handling he often endured when his wife was telling it was meant to be the other way around. He was meant to be in charge.

Seeing her brother wouldn’t be moved, and seeing that her sister-in-law had given up on that endeavor as well, returning from the kitchen with plates of roast she set at each of their places without sparing a single word, Clara did as Arthur asked, lowering herself into the chair where she’d suffer through a supper she was no longer hungry for.

Clara closed her eyes, bowing her head as Arthur began muttering out some prayer Clara wasn’t listening to, too busy with a prayer of her own, or a wish, or whatever it was she was doing speaking in her mind, her eyes remaining closed even after Linda and Arthur uttered their quiet ‘amen’s and picked up their forks and knives.

Clara's amen came in the form of a quiet explicative slipping from her lips not five seconds later, the sound of it masked by the distant honking coming through the open window, the noise growing steadily louder, the honks held out longer in duration as the seconds ticked by.

Clara had no need to drag herself from the chair, no need to look out the window and see who was barreling down Arthur’s private drive, not that she could have with the weight of dread that had seeped into her limbs. She imagined the car swerving back and forth over the road, scattering dust and pebbles in its wake, fueled along by petrol and John’s stubborn volatility, with her brother more focused on getting to her, his mind more occupied with the inevitable act of wringing Clara’s neck than navigating the road laid out ahead of him.

Linda silently cleared the plates she’d only just set out, only just filled with the roast they’d no longer be enjoying, and Clara tried to sort in her mind a course of action. She decided on being tight-lipped with the boys, decided it would be better to not say a word once they started in on her even if the silence would land her situation firmly in Tommy’s hands, sat in the chair in his office with his stifling stares and his condescending tone. Clara figured she’d end up in front of Tommy by the end of the weekend anyhow, regardless of how much she shared with John and Arthur now. 

“Where is she?” 

Clara sighed and put her head down on the table as John stomped into the room. She let out a groan as she felt John's radiating presence just beside her, slowly sitting up straight in her chair before he could force her back himself. 

"John," she greeted, avoiding his eyes.

“Who did it?”

“John, it’s not—”

“Let me see it.”

Clara scoffed, shaking her head. “Surely you can’t be—”

John reached down and towed Clara up from the chair, tilting her head to the side and causing her hair to fall back over her shoulder. Clara clasped a hand over her neck and shoved him away with the other, resorting to a punch in the arm when he didn’t budge, a treatment which John returned in kind, his open palm landing a restrained smack to the side of her head, shocking her well enough that he was able to pull her hand away from her neck, exposing the mark on her neck as he held her close with the hand wrapped around her arm. 

“Fucking hell, Clara," John half-shouted as he dropped his hold. "You've got to be—"

Clara went for him again, shoving him back though he’d already put a step between them. “Don’t fucking manhandle me.” 

John took a step back and scoffed, gesturing toward her neck. “Seems you like letting people manhandle you."

Clara started for him again, but Arthur caught her arm, tugging her back a step.

“Enough fu—"Arthur cringed before continuing, fighting with himself not to allow another expletive to slip through his lips. “...Enough cursing, both of you. The problem at hand is our Clara’s been seeing someone without our—"

“Looks like she’s been doing more than—”

To hell with tight lips, Clara thought, the need for some type of proper response growing with every syllable coming out of John’s mouth, growing with every shift of his face, every bit of sarcasm-infused communication. “Oh, go ahead and fuck right off, John.” 

Arthur applied a sharp slap to the other side of her head and Clara pulled herself free, trying to put a bit of distance between her and both brothers.  

“Christ! Will you two stop smacking me?”

“Watch your mouth, then," Arthur shouted as he pointed a finger at her. "I won’t have those words in me house.” 

Clara was surprised to hear him saying it seeing as Linda had made her way out of the room shortly after John entered it and Clara scoffed, rubbing at the tender spot on her head, muttering under her breath. 

“You won’t have it or Linda won’t?”

John snorted and Clara sent him a glare, which only pleased him more as he smiled back at her.

“The problem at hand is…” Arthur started.

“There is no problem,” Clara said. “If anything, it’s you two with the—”

John sat back against the table. “Really? No problem, huh?” he chuckled, rubbing at his chin as he considered it. "So, tell me, did you kick the lad’s ass or should I be expecting an invitation to lunch?”

Clara tilted her head at the question, inclined it to the right by just a small fraction, just enough that John knew his question set her off balance. 

He chuckled again before turning to Arthur and tapping him on the arm. “You remember, right Arthur? Not two months ago now, she—" John folded his arms back across his chest and nodded towards his sister. "—Our Clara said if it was  unwanted  attention she’d kick his ass and if it was  wanted  attention, she’d bring the lad around to meet us.”

“Mmm, sure, I remember,” Arthur said, mimicking John by taking up purchase settled against the table, his arms folded across his chest in the same manner, his gaze nearly hammering Clara to the floor.

John turned to Clara, a wicked grin on his face. “And I assume since we’ve not been invited to lunch, you’ve kicked his ass. Should have some bruises on your hands to match that mark on your neck, eh?”

Clara flexed her fists, her perfectly unmarred knuckles tucked between her arms and her sides as she willed the heat in her cheeks to subside.

“Do I have it right?” John asked.

Clara’s piercing glare seemed to bounce right off John, deflected by the smiling white of his teeth and the shiny glint in his eyes. 

“Answer his question.” 

“I’m done with your bloody questions,” Clara answered, moving toward the door only to have it shoved open before she could quite reach it, forcing her back against the wall as Esme came through.

“Oi! John, what’s the hold-up?” she asked.

“The hold-up is my slag of a little sister.”

Esme turned back to Clara and quickly closed the distance, handing over the child in her arms, Clara struggling a bit with the unexpected weight of the sleeping toddler as Esme flicked the hair from Clara's shoulder, the hint of a smile there in her features as she met Clara’s eye.

Esme steeled her face before turning back to the boys with her hands on her hips. “This is the bloody trouble keeping us from the patch?” She turned back to Clara without waiting on the boys' response. “And I assume you’re not keen to tell them who’s done it?” 

Esme didn’t blame the girl, to be honest, but she didn't rightly care for the delay either, her swollen, pregnant self just longing to be settled out at camp with the kids left to their own devices, with her family doting on the little one, able to set her feet up for a while.  

“If you’re worried she’ll find herself like me, let her have some more time left alone with the kids." Esme turned back to Clara. "You can start with that one. Hasn't slept for three days except when leaned up against a tit. Screaming when not. The joys of motherhood."

Clara glanced at her brothers, a bit of shock on each of their faces, both of them easily assuaged by the panicked look in Clara's eye and her sudden stuttering. “I’m not—It…It was nothing…just a kiss.” 

"That's where most babies come from, eh John?" Esme laughed and turned back to Clara, nodding to her. “And you lied to them about it, so must be…"

Esme's head tilted to the side for a moment, her eyebrows arched at just the right angle, ready to deliver the rest of her accusation before everything about her suddenly softened, reacting to some expression Clara wasn’t even aware of displaying. Esme sighed then, pressing her lips into a straight line, her hand briefly patting at Clara’s arm.

Polly and Tommy often discounted Esme, but Clara couldn’t escape the feeling of being so carefully scrutinized in that moment, so thoroughly seen, so fully understood that she was sure their minds had connected for a brief passage of time because Esme seemed to know everything, all without Clara having to say a single word.

Clara hiked the sleeping child up in her arms as the heat in her cheeks grew, her words barely above a whisper as the child in her arms stirred. “Only because the boys are mad, completely off—”

John cleared his throat, interrupting the rushed whispers his sister was passing to his wife.

“So, when's he coming around to meet the family then?” John asked, his disturbance earning a slap from his wife.

"Oi! Esme—"

Clara huffed as she faced her brothers, her voice growing louder despite the sleeping child. “He’s not! And no one’s going to beat him up either because it’s not going to happen again. It’ll never fucking happen again, alright? So, you can all just let it be. Your sister’s honor is well intact and—” 

“What do you mean it’s not—” John started, reaching out towards the child stirring in Clara's arms.

“I mean exactly as I’ve said. It won’t happen again,” Clara muttered as the little one reached up to wrap their arms around Clara's neck and Clara turned away from John.

“Why not?” John asked.

Clara stilled, meeting Esme's eyes for a moment, wishing to be seen again, wishing her sister-in-law would understand and intervene. “Hmm?”

“Why won’t it happen again?” Arthur said.

Clara took another deep breath. “Does it truly matter?”

“If he’s hurt you, I'll—”

“No one’s hurt me, Arthur,” the words came out with a sigh, a bit flat even, before she shifted her hold on the child growing heavy in her arms. “It was a mutual decision is all, so you don’t have to worry about it happening again, alright?” 

Arthur narrowed his eyes, but they were all watching her, observing Clara's quick swing from indignant to somber, the waves of it shifting something in her brothers as well.

“You’re sure it’s mutual?” John took another step forward, his voice lowered. “It doesn’t seem—”

“Your sister seems to have cleared it up,” Esme interrupted, reaching forward to take her child back in her arms. “And I’ve left Linda alone with the other kids, so we should get—”

“Get going, yeah,” John answered with a vague nod toward his wife while his eyes remained on his sister, a bit of quiet settling over the room while Esme's retreating footsteps echoed back to them.

John took a step towards the door before leaning back in Clara’s direction and gently calling her name. Clara heaved a breath while John waited for her to pull her eyes to his. 

He took another step back as she met his gaze, pulling her into his chest with the arm he hooked around her neck. “I’ll still teach him a lesson if you want,” he said into her hair. “We’ll take Finn and Is—”

“Thank you, John,” she answered, shifting a bit to hug him back, resting her head against his chest for a moment. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“And in the meantime, you keep away from boys or I’ll teach you a—”

“Alright, John," Arthur interrupted, clapping John on the shoulder and pulling him back. "Our Clara’s a bright girl. She understands.”

"Yeah well, she's not too bright, otherwise she woulda kept that mess covered up, eh Clara?" John smirked as he nudged her shoulder.

Clara nudged him back. "I believe your wife is waiting on you."

"Yeah, yeah." John rolled his eyes. "Best not to keep her waiting, I suppose."

Arthur followed John out, leaving Clara in the empty dining room rubbing her now tired eyes, grateful she'd spilled no more than a bit of the truth to her brothers, the boy's name and the true depth of her hurt held in, hidden just like her tears she'd only shed in private.

It didn't matter though. That's what Clara had decided. That none of it mattered. She had already planned to let it be of no consequence, had determined to let all of it fade away, decided that one day it would all be like the blemish, painful one day, forgotten the next. Her brothers learning of it had been an unfortunate turn of events, but it changed nothing.

Clara sat back down in the chair she'd been so resistant to just minutes before, a hunger settling in her stronger than it had been in days and she glanced up at Arthur's approaching footsteps, ready to apologize to him for something, though she wasn't quite sure what.

"Let's eat," Arthur said, his hands full not with the plates of forgotten roast but a pie dish and Clara's discarded book.

"But Linda's supper—"

"You let me worry about your sister-in-law," Arthur said as he set the dish between them, two forks stabbed into the flaky crust. "You just find your spot and we'll finish that chapter of yours."

--

Little Lady Blinder (Peaky Blinders) Masterlist