#Also an important word in the surgeon field

[to-dance-beneath-the-diamond-sky]

!!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Angel of Birmingham ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader

Summary: Before he meets Tommy Shelby, Alfie gets the pleasant surprise of encountering the lovely Angel of Britain, and from then on, he swears to always protect her from all the dangers of the world.

If she were to ask herself who was the first to call her that - That undeserving nickname - She’d have to guess it might have been Arthur. He always had a way with words without realizing, and it all happened when they were children... More or less, considering she is closer to John’s age than his, and she would patch him up after fights and whatever marks of ‘good behaviour’ he got from playing around.

Seeing how great she was at taking care of him and his brothers, Aunt Polly suggested she tries to become a nurse or something. She saw potential in the little girl. Intelligent, charming, beautiful and pretty damn innocent. She shouldn’t stay too close to their dark side, it may taint her, and neither of the Shelbies wanted to see her upset. She was too much of a ray of sunshine and they desperately clinged to her and her kindness.

In the bleak midwinter.

But the girl was also highly ambitious and she didn’t want to settle with being a simple nurse - No, she wanted more. More and more and more. She was smart, she was greedy and she was a conqueror.

Veni. Vidi. Vici.

Until they received a beating sister with death and they suddenly opened their eyes towards the Godly truth in front of them.

She was going to become the only surgeon in Birmingham and she will succeed without a doubt, despite her young age.

The Shelbies already had connections with some important people so it was easier to deal with uncooperative people who dismissed her for being a woman and didn’t even look at her amazing knowledge and skills.

For a while, she had to be away and work in the London’s hospital as she studied medicine, despite her very young age. She hated being alone from her family and her second family, as she always called the Shelbies, but despite her timid personality, she still made some pretty good friends, albeit with the nurses, as most of the girls didn’t have the right connections and the money to bribe their way so high-up the medical field.

For now, that is. Y/N wanted to change the world. She aimed high and jumped higher. With the right money and influence, things will change. She was sure about that.

It was all going splendid for her, until the First World War began and her three Shelby brothers were enrolled - She was desperate to keep them home, but she knew she couldn’t.

So the next best thing was to go with them.

She was a doctor and they needed war doctors to take care of the wounded, so of course, she was accepted without a second thought.

She had to go to Verdun and to Somme, and she had to see so many people being brutally taken away from life - Bombs, gunshots, wails of anguish and despair, fear, cries, agony and shivers.

If Y/N could describe war with a single word, it would be simply ‘Hell’. 

There was no better word to describe it, without a doubt, and an angel in hell always gets her wings burnt horrifically painfully.

She prayed day and night for her three brothers to be alive and well by the end of all this, at least physically, since mentally, she knows neither of them will be the same, that’s for sure.

And this hell went on for four agonizing years that went by, day after day, at an alarmingly lethargic pace, as if time and space were enclosed into a continuous loop of no return, a dark void from which they will never return.

But they did.

And when they did, they were welcomed with hugs and kisses and lots of love from their families...

Yet they reciprocated with a dead look in their eyes.

They died in War, and this was just a second attempt at living, like a dead man roaming the world again.

The worst that happened was Tommy getting shot during his tunneling, but Y/N made sure he would be treated properly, and yet, there was one thing she couldn’t do, no matter how perfect her healing skills were, and that is to erase their mental and emotional pain and all the nightmares and PTSD they had to suffer from.

She tried to stay strong for them, to smile and be radiant as before, to try to take away some of their unseen pain, to talk to them, to sooth them... God knows they needed it. 

She would crawl in Tommy’s bed at forsaken hours and hold him tightly whenever he’d wake up screaming in fear, afraid that the shovels will breach through the walls and he’d get shot again, and she’d talk to him, reassure him and tell him he’s not there anymore and nothing will get to him again, she will protect him from any danger, and her wings were there to shield him.

She would leap out and hug Arthur from behind, dragging him away from murdering or fatally beating more men who looked at him the wrong way, so he wouldn’t lose control of his mind and body again, and she will shoo everyone away while she holds him and lets him cry out his fear and stress and pain.

And John... Poor John... Ever after being home, he was still in a state of shock, and he was so confused, and would look down at his hands, trying to wash them so much that he got burns and irritation, only to get rid of the ocean of blood that he created by killing hundreds of men, and witnessing a thousand more.

And yet...

There was nobody there for her.

Nobody to hold her down whenever she wanted to lash out into hysterics and tear everyone apart limb from limb. There was nobody there to reassure her that she didn’t fail anyone for not managing to save the man split in ten pieces after falling prey to a bomb. That there was nothing wrong with taking lives as long as you protect your own. There was nobody to reassure her during a nightmare or embrace her protectively whenever she’d flinch, jump or panic from the louder noises or frequent gunshots all over Birmingham.

She needed a change. She was going further down and down, spiraling into the horrible abyss that the bottomless pits of anguish and torment she was succumbing to, and she knew that, no matter how much she’d smile and say ‘I’m alright’, she’d only drown deeper into her darkest despair.

And that’s how she chose to cope with all her pain. Work herself into exhaustion, study, practice, work, learn - Do anything but sleep or stay idle - As long as her mind was preoccupied with different things, there was no way she’d recognize her downwards descend into hell.

Thus, with continuous work, gunshot threatenings and more influence and bribes, she managed to become the Head of the Birmingham hospital, as the only capable surgeon in the city.

But now that she achieved this, she needed something new. She couldn’t fall into platitude, or she’d go insane. She constantly needed stimulation, because if she relaxes, even by a little, she will remember she is a human being with human emotions and that’s when shit will hit the fan hard, and she was afraid that was the point of no return.

So she extended her influence in London, went to conferences, met new people and ironically, the big hospital was close to The Angel and Camden Town and she became sort of an administrator - section chief around, so she could organize every patient and treatment the way she wanted. Everyone reported to her.

She was Britain’s Angel.

Things were going very well for her, she got a lot of money, people loved her, she was neutral with all the gangsters, mafia, police and every normal peasant or royalty - Healing did not discriminate against any social criteria made by the higher ups - And she had a very lovely, small house and a beautiful flower garden, a lovely maid who helped her keep things tidy, a decent car ( although she preferred walking ) and a few dogs to keep her company.

Another day, another struggle to keep on going. Y/N got up, drank her morning tea in peace while listening to the gramophone. She combed her long hair, letting it cascade down her back, completely disregarding the fashion of the Roaring ‘20s, and went to look at her wardrobe. She chose a black turtleneck thin blouse with high-waisted black pants, a pair of leather boots, some accessories and an elegant trench coat which she wore over her shoulders. It was Spring, so it wasn’t truly cold enough to dress warmly, but not hot enough to wear a sundress either.

The most peculiar thing happened while walking to the hospital - She heard a groan of pain from a dark alley and going to investigate, she saw a fair haired man whose white shirt was stained with red.

“Is it yours?” the woman asked him as she carefully stepped in front of him, completely disregarding the two dead bodies from the ground.

“Some o’ it. Most o’ it is theirs, poor fellas.” he tilted his head to the side left and right, almost comically.

“Fairs. Let’s get you to the hospital, I’ll treat your wound. Free of charge, of course. Let the state pay for something for once.” she chuckled lightly, extending her hand for him to take - To accept her proposal.

“Who are you, Miss? I don’t recall ever seein’ you ‘round. A new nurse from the hospital?” he asked as he almost skeptically stepped by her side, following her.

“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I forgot my manners. I am Y/N... I’m sort of the head of the hospital nearby. And, uh... I’m a surgeon.” she grinned at him serenely, almost as if to defy and shock him by his previous assumptions.

“A woman doctor, aye? Now that... That’s top. How’d ya do that? I thought they didn’t accept women at University ‘n such.” despite his words, he seemed genuinely interested and wasn’t mocking her.

“Well... Yes, not wrong. And I want to change that. Hmm, how do I explain this without scaring you away... I’m a pretty smart cookie I guess!” her laugh was crystalline and lovely, and if weren’t for the pain from the bullet he took, he would have laughed as well rather mirthfully.

“That you are, lass, I’m sure.” he grunted as he nodded, a bit robotically.

“Ah, we’ve arrived. Before we go in, are you from a mafia gang or something? Some social... Political... Something? It’s not that I care, but I have to put people in different wings for their own good, you know?” she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her fingers a bit.

“I’m not sure I understand, lass.” he raised his eyebrow, analyzing the soft-spoken woman, trying to understand her intentions, whether they were good or bad.

“Well... My hospital accept everyone, you know? But at the same time I don’t think most people want to be rooming with coppers. Or... I know there are some gang wars around... Italians and Jews I think, or something like that. To put some Sabinis and some from Solomons’ gang in the same room, I not only fear for their lives, but also for the good of the rest of the patients and my hospital, you get me? That’s why I at least have to ask. Who knows, maybe I have some of your peers around for you and you can chat and feel better together.” she shrugged at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable being stared like that by him.

“Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Let’s go to the Jews, right? Y’got some o’ those, don’t ya?” he asked, following her as he watched her smile and greet sweetly every person she was walking past.

“Oh yes, of course. Yesterday came a boy called Oliver... Oh, I mean Ollie. He gets upset when I call him by his full name. And there’s this one called David. They said they work for Alfie Solomons, so I put their occupations as bakers. Would you like me to do the same for you as well?” she asked as she hurried inside the room and asked where he would like to stay, and thus preparing the bed.

“Ye even got flowers ‘round ‘ere. This looks more like a home than a hospital if y’ask me.” he chuckled softly as he let himself fall down on the bed, taking off his shoes.

“Oh, yes! Studies show that if patients feel welcomed and are well taken care of, they have higher chances of recovering at a much faster pace. I wanted to test this theory, so I made a contract with the flower shop down town to always bring me flowers. Isn’t that lovely?” she smiled sweetly at him, which rendered the man speechless and in awe.

“Boss, what happened?!” suddenly, Ollie’s worried voice resounded through the room as he leapt from his bed, by the mysterious man’s side.

“Just some dead fish, don’t you worry, lad.” he downplayed his injury as the woman watched the wholesome exchange between those two.

“Oliver - Uh... Ollie, I mean, forgive me. I have to extract the bullet from Mr. Solomons’ body. I will have to ask you to please not worry, I promise to save him, okay?” why was this woman so sweet with everyone? Was that how a doctor should be? Or was she just some exemplary woman?

“...Alright, miss...” the boy muttered, dejected as he watched the woman leave the room, no doubt to get the right equipment for the extraction.

“Honestly, lad, you worry like some maiden. Let the girl do ‘er job.” the Jewish boss chuckled reassuringly at the tall brunet boy.

“She’s no girl, Mr. Solomons. She’s Britain’s Angel. Haven’t you heard o’ her?” Ollie went to sit on the boss’s bed, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“That’s ‘er? Really?” Alfie’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quite understood now why she earned the reputation.

“Aye! She grew up with the Peaky Blinders and their influence and bribes got her into University, but she’s like super smart! I ‘eard they call her Angel or somethin’, especially after her services in the War. Can you believe that?! A woman voluntarily enrolling into war?! That’s insane, who’d want a free ticket to hell?!” Ollie’s voice became a bit higher as he gossiped with his boss.

“Someone who wants to protect her family.” a feminine chuckle broke the conversation as the two Jews snapped their heads towards the entrance, seeing her casually leaning back on the wall, looking at them with an amused expression, mock-reprimanding. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to gossip?”

“Sorry, lass. This one has quite the chatter mouth to him! ‘e just can’t seem to ever shut it!” his over the top gesticulation, among with Ollie’s shocked expression made the girl hide her mouth to laugh as she shook her head and pushed the tray with the needed instruments to Alfie’s bed.

“True. If he didn’t call you Boss, I wouldn’t have known who you were, Mr. Solomons. Now, I would have to ask you to let me unbutton your shirt so I can begin the procedure. It won’t last long, and with the local anaesthesia, you won’t even feel a thing... For the most part, at least.” she chuckled awkwardly as she sat down on his bed, smiling calmly at him.

“Nah, lass, no fancy ana-thingy, I want none o' that. Ain’t gonna get some drugs to put me down. I’ve been through this before in war, right, and ya didn’t have anaesthesia in war either, so that’s that.” as he said those things, he immediately noticed the smile disappearing from her face as a dark look flashed before her eyes that used to sparkle with fake happiness.

“It’s local anaesthesia, it won’t make you sleep. Besides, I used cocaine in war. It still works. Don’t be like that, Alfie. Please.” she seemed to almost desperately want to use that numbing solution for some reason.

“Why do you insist on going against your patient’s wishes, miss doctor?” he challenged her, narrowing her eyes, as if he was trying to peer into her mind.

“I can’t stand people’s raw cries. You heard Ollie. I’ve been to war, but a part of me never returned home. If I can do something to absolve the pain from someone, I’m gonna do it, whether they like it or not.” her dark voice seemed to make a complete 180 from the sweet one from earlier.

“Do you do the same with coppers too, lass?” his light question, as he unbuttoned his shirt, came as a begrudged agreement to her proposition.

“Nah. I just hit them over the head with a bottle of alcohol. Works every time.” her devious, vague smirk made him wonder whether what she was saying was true or not.

“Now that -- I really wanna see that, right. Would’ya call me next time you gotta do that?” Alfie chuckled as he attentively watched her gently wipe the blood from his skin.

“It’s usually a spontaneous decision, really. I get impulsive too, sometimes, you know? I’m not perfect. But, should the time come, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an audience that would be pleasantly surprised by my act of aggression.” she smiled softly as she carefully administrated the novocain around the area where he got the bullet.

“So where’d ya serve?” he asked, as the girl encouraged him to talk and get his mind away from the procedure.

“Somme and Verdun. I asked to be deployed as close as possible to the Shelbies... I’m sure you got that by what Ollie just told you. Y’know, the tunnels Tommy dug and all that? Wasn’t fun. And you, Alfie? ... Ah, actually, forgive me, I shouldn’t address you so casually without asking for your permission, I got ahead of myself. You can call me by my first name too. I prefer it that way, kinda. It’s more casual and light-hearted.” she chuckled awkwardly - Alfie realized she wasn’t the best at social interactions. He wondered if this was just how she was, or it was a post-war effect.

“No, s’all right, ya can call me Alfie, no problem. I was a Captain in war, right, I was a Captain and I led tons of lads to their death, yeah, but we killed more than we got killed, so that’s that, I guess. Meddled with gas’n’bombs’n shit like that.” Despite trying to keep things light hearted, he noticed the upset look on her face.

“As long as you’re alive, anything is justified.” She muttered, more to herself than to him as she started poking the area under anaesthesia to see if it got numbed down properly.

“Oi, lass, how about I tell you a story, aye? ‘S pretty funny, I reckon.” He suggested, seeing as she smiled softly and nodded at him, putting on her gloves, ready to extract the bullet old-school.

“Sure, Alfie, I’d love that.” She gave him a quick look as he fingers dug inside his wound, making him flinch.

“So, this happened during war, right. My regiment had some nasty Italians around, and they pissed me off so fucking much, yeah. Well, I tell ya, I once carried my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian.” He used one of his hands to gesticulate wildly, as if to keep her engaged in the story whilst he grunted from the discomfort and pain he felt as she rummaged inside his wound.

“Ohh, the Italians. This is going to be a very good story, I’m sure. What did you do?” her smile widened slightly as she felt the bullet shards and started extracting them one by one, putting them on a napkin until they all formed a complete bullet.

“Listen, Y/N. Listen, right. I pulled his face up against the train and shoved a 6 inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it on with a duct board, aye.” As he told his story, Y/N had to turn around and slouch a bit, unable to contain her laughter.

“Oh my God, Alfie, that was horrible!” but despite the words used, she just laughter harder.

“It was fucking biblical, lass, I tell ya!” his voice went a bit higher, as he started chuckling as well.

“Okay, okay, say that again, but this time slower. I-I want to imagine – To, to get a better image of this in my head. “ no matter how much she tried to hide her laugh, she couldn’t, which only fueled his wish to amuse her.

“So, this fucking margherita bastard came to me and started throwing around those cross fingered hands back and forth like he wanted th’ gouge my eyes out o’ somethin’. Just! Like! this!” Alfie started aggressively mimicking the Italian hand gestures as the girl had to put down the needle and thread from shaking so much.

“G-Go on!” she encouraged him quickly.

“Yeah, so, listen, I grabbed him by the fucking head, yeah, and I saw this bigass nail, like this big, and shoved it up his nose, y’know, like the fuckin’ Egyptians hooked the brain out through the nose, right, with the mummies and shit.” He had no idea why, but he really enjoyed making her laugh like this.

“I think I’m getting a nose bleed just by imagining this!” she covered her face entirely as she swung left and right from laughing so hard.

“He’s leaning back on the train now, yeah, and he’s hazy like he’s fuckin’ high on pepperoni or some shit, and I see this board just layin’ there on th’ ground, innocently, begging to be used somehow. So I pick it up nicely, yeah, I pick it up and SLAM it into his face. Once. Twice. Thrice. More. Dunno how many times, until I can’t see the nail anymore… But I guess, by then, he didn’t really have much of a face anymore, kinda just became a jam pancake or somethin’.” The girl needed a few minutes of laughter to calm down and wipe her eyes from laughing so hard.

“Oh, Alfie, I haven’t laughed so hard in my entire life. That was wonderful. I-I have no words. I can’t… I can’t… Okay, I’m good now, I’m good. But don’t say more stories, I won’t be able to sew up your wound if I laugh like that again.” She grinned at him, grabbing the needle and thread.

“Fine, lass, fine, I won’t say more stories today. How about you say one, then?” the Jew leader smirked at her with amusement.

“O-Oh, uhm… I-I’m not exactly the funniest person in the world, you know. Actually, I’m not even sure I know what to say. I’m a horrible conversation maker.” She chuckled nervously, as she continued to make knots and stitch the wound.

“Doesn’t matter, anything works, really! I just wanna hear an angel speak.” Mr. Solomons was truly an amiable one.

“Well, alright then, let me think. So, I think you’ve heard already of the Peaky Blinders and how there are quite a few Shelby siblings, yes? Well, they used to have a baby cousin, before he was taken away by some nasty coppers and put in foster care. I was also pretty young back then, but I remember Arthur used to throw baby Michael out of the window repeatedly for either John or me to catch. Mind you, it wasn’t the ground floor.” She chuckled lightly, remembering the stupid kid things they used to do before the war, when life was so simple.

“Really, now?! Poor lad, must’ve grown up with some serious height fear!” Alfie barked a laugh.

“That’s one thing. John put him in a shoe box and kicked him down Watery Lane. Sometimes when cars were passing by too. It was insane, really, growing up with them. But it was fun. If you ignore the copious amount of times we got in trouble and almost died.”  She mused, finishing the procedure and applying some marigold ointment before bandaging the wound properly.

“Thanks, lass, that was quite the experience. Well, I’ll be off then, I won’t bother you anymore, yeah.” He said, trying to get up, only to quickly get pushed down on the bed.

“No! You need to rest and get better, as well as that, you can’t do effort or brusk movements or you risk breaking the stitches.” She explained as he saw worry in her eyes.

“Let’s compromise, alright lass? I’m these guys’ leader, yeah, I’m the leader, so I can’t stay here, I ‘ave to go home’n all that. But I promise you I’ll take it easy and only do office work, yeah, that good? And to thank ya, I’ll even call you by the bakery, how’s that? Nice and warm fresh cookies? How’s that sound?” he asked, as he saw the girl clasp her hands together to her chest.

“Well… Alright then, I can’t really refuse you. But please do be careful. At least let me walk you home or something, I don’t think anyone will attack you if I’m around.”  She muttered, still worried.

“Oi, lass, I am the gentleman here, right, I am, so I should offer to walk you home, not the other way around, aye. Let me walk ya home and tomorrow I’ll come by with cookies.” as he got up, he was ready to button up his messy shirt, but the girl stopped him.

“Alright, Alfie, you win. Let me find you a new shirt, I’m sure we have some around. Before I leave, I have to check up on one of Sabini’s men. It will be pretty short, but I still have to make sure he’s alive and kicking.” The girl offered him a smile as she rushed out to find him a new blouse.

Much to his surprise, she returned rather quickly, even dressed in her normal attire, as when she first came by, and they were ready to leave that wing. However, as soon as they exited the room, the girl was pinned to the wall by none other than Mr. Sabini himself. Alfie was ready to react and throw him off her, but a stopping signal from her did the trick, albeit, he was still confused.

“Mr. Sabini. How many times must I remind you not to greet me in this inappropriate way? I lost count after twenty.” she smiled sarcastically at him as she roughly pushed him off.

“I simply cannot help myself around una fiore cosi bello! You have to understand me, mio angelo, it is your fault for being so beautiful. And how many times have I told you to call me my by name, bella?” The sleazy Italian smirked perverted at her.

“It is inappropriate to display such behaviour with your patients, as well as that, I do not feel comfortable addressing you in any way but the formal one. I will also have to ask you, again, not to use compliments with me, I will not, under any circumstance, accept your courting proposal. Not to mention, you and your men have your own ward at a completely different floor, so I will have to politely ask you to please stop bothering my other patients who have the same rights of being treated as you do.” Her voice was so cold and venomous, as a sword’s edge cutting deep into flesh. Alfie was shocked to see the angelic woman capable of such a demeanour, considering how sweet and shy she was previously when she was laughing so much that she started tearing up.

“But Y/N, amore mio, mio Tesoro, I can give your lovely hospital monthly charity cheques, to fund it, bring you only the latest technology in pharmaceutical and medical stuff! I can buy you anything you want, only say so, and I will bring it to you! I will –“ he continued boasting about his money until he got quickly cut off by the girl.

“Enough. I don’t need your money, Mr. Sabini, I have my own. Not only that, I will also really want to ask you to stop bothering me already. I have to remind you, you have been harassing me for quite a long time now, and I have all the right in the world to choose the patients I’m admitting, considering this is now MY hospital, and if you don’t stop your desperate cry for attention, I will completely eliminate the Sabini ward and divulge all your secrets to the other mafia gangs. And don’t you dare pull out your stupid gun and threaten me, I’m not afraid of you or of death. I already died in war, now I’m just living a second chance. Good bye, Mr. Sabini.” And with that, Y/N turned on her heels, motioning for Alfie and Ollie to follow her as the click of her shoes echoing through the corridors emanated the angry aura around her.

“So you’ve got the same kind o’ personal vendetta against those stupid Italians too, aye?” Alfie chuckled, hoping to lighten up the mood for her.

“Yep. That story from before – I’d do it with Sabini without thinking twice. Or I’ll have you do it, I don’t think I even have the physical strength to pick up a duct board. I have noodle arms.” She let out an amused breath as the Jew looked at her with a smile.

“Ya bet I’ll help ya.” And thus, they arrived in front of her house, being greeted, as usual, by her barking dogs who jumped on her from happiness.

“So… Tomorrow, yes? When should I be expecting you?” she asked, trying to pacify her excited puppies.

“Maybe ‘round noon?” and thus, the agreement stood and the girl waved at him sweetly as she went inside the house, followed by her furry babies. “Y’know what, Ollie? This one is a woman that comes once every thousand years. I dunno how Thomas Shelby could let go of her, but he can’t be as smart as he thinks he is.” Alfie chuckled, nodding to his right hand man to begin walking.

The next day, as expected, Y/N woke up early to make sure nothing is out of place everywhere in the house. Maybe it was her weirdly acting up over-perfectionism, but she couldn’t stand still if something wasn’t where it should have been.

After all, she hasn’t had visitors in… Well, never. It was always her who would visit the Shelby family, but other than that, she would meet up with friends in pubs and clubs, not at home.

Before she knew it, noon arrived and the sound of barking announced Alfie’s arrival. As she opened the house’s door, she noticed he was on the ground, getting loved by all the dogs.

Shocker.

“They say dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one. You passed their test, well done.” She gave him an amused side-smile, leaning on the door frame.

“Anyone who has so many dogs is trustworthy in my books.” He cackled as he got up, walking towards the girl, holding the basket up so the four-legged beasts won’t steal it away.

“I taught them horribly bad. They eat at the table with me, I cook for them more than I cook for myself. And now, look at them, those rascals, they will do anything for food as if they’re famished! Spoiled brats, I’m telling you!” she smiled as she removed the flower vase from the table and poured some tea, aromatic and very nicely smelling.

He admired the tea pot and the matching cups – They were a soft, light blue with painted pink flowers. – Very cute, he thought, and very fitting to her own sweetness. He’s seen so many women affected by the bitterness and anger of having to be unheard, submissive and mistreated, in this ugly, monochrome, wet Britain, so meeting Y/N was like a breath of fresh air, completely different, not afraid of being as sweet and kind as she wants, without implicating herself in any trouble or business and just doing her own stuff.

“Tea, lass? I haven’t had tea in ages, yeah.” He chuckled as he carefully put the plate of still steaming cookies along with some challah bread.

“…Oh. I forgot most people prefer alcohol. Oh My God, I’m so sorry, I don’t have any kind of alcohol in the house-“ she freaked out a bit, only to be stopped by Alfie’s chuckle.

“I’m a tea guy too, lass, don’t worry so much over silly things like that, right? Tea’s fine too. What’s it got?” he asked, easing her worries quickly.

“Vanilla, cinnamon, cherries and a bit too much honey. I like sweet things.” She smiled at him as she raised the tea cup and clinked it to his. “Cheers.”

“Sweet things like you, little lady, love things just as sweet, yeah? Cheers! It’s quite nice, aye, not bad, not bad at all, I think I’ll want more.” He blinked in surprise as he saw the girl immediately get up and pour more tea into his cup.

“Woaw, Alfie, you’ve made these? I’ve never eaten chocolate chip cookies before! They’re amazing! And this bread… It’s so soft and it tastes like honey! If you ever wanted to stop your underground business, you could definitely make a fortune opening up your own bakery! Imagine this… Alfie Solomons, the sweetest man in all Britain, loved by every citizen, earns a Royal Warrant from the Queen for baking the best cookies in the world!” Y/N praised the man as she ate what seemed to be the 4th or 5th cookie by now.

“Bah! Who cares ‘bout that old hag with a crown on her head? If the right person likes it, it’s all that matter, right, nothing else matters to me, and you already like my baking, so that’s that, yeah, that’s just that!” Alfie laughed, making the girl in front of him make a cute kitty smile and look down, her cheeks becoming just a tiny bit rosy.

“Alfie, now you’re just being too nice with me. You don’t have to do that just because I treated you.” She chuckled softly, surprising the man.

“You think I’m being nice to you because o’ that? That’s silly of you, lass, yeah, very silly, that’s not the case in the least, that’s just who I am!” he protested vehemently, his golden chain bracelet clinking softly with each movement.

“So you just like me? Just like that?” her eyes widened in shock.

“Why’re you looking so surprised, lass?” his voice became gradually much calmer and sweeter, seeing the genuine emotions from her.

“Oh, I just… I haven’t heard that in quite a while, I guess that’s why. Apart from the doctor work I do, and all the people thanking me for saving them, I don’t have much social interaction, so someone saying they like me for  my personality, as Y/N, not Britain’s Angel who saved them, is… You know… Unexpected.” She admitted, smiling shyly at him.

“How would you like to hear another story?” it’s true that he wanted to see her so bashful in front of him, but he also loved hearing her laugh, so why not give it a try with one more of his famous stories.

“Oh, I’d love that! You have the best stories, Alfie!” she immediately cheered up, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands oh so cutely.

“Now, now, don’t flatter me, lass, it’ll go to my head, yeah, I’ll get used to you cute words.”  He leaned back on the chair, getting a better look at her.

“That just means I’ll have to say them more often.” Oh, how cheeky, Alfie thought as he grinned at her.

“Right, perfect plan! So, there you go! Tommy Shelby came by recently – Just a few days ago, right – And he, he started being a cheeky bastard with me, so I wanted to teach him a lesson. Got the gun out, cocked it in his face. I said – Look, let’s say I just shot you already, right, in the fucking face, and the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there.” Alfie made a finger gun with one of his hands, pointing it at the smiling girl, and then pointed behind her, where a pretty landscape painting was hanging.

“Oh, Tommy in London? I’m surprised he didn’t tell me anything about coming here, or at least visiting me. What a shame. I’m not surprised by his behaviour though, he’s become a bit of a jerk after the war.” She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at him to continue.

“Right, it’s a shame, it really is, because that cabinet is fucked. I gotta get rid of it. So, what I do is this, I said. It’s fucking simple, mate.” And thus, he intertwined his fingers together on the table, playfully putting on the intimidating look of his.

“You burn it to splinters?” she tilted her head serenely like a cute puppy.

“Nah, even better. I cut that cabinet in half, don’t I? I do, I’ll just cut the cabinet, I cut… I cut the cabinet literally in half, mate, I said, and threw him a rag to wipe that bleeding nose of his. He was looking at me like a fucking dead body, lass, beaten up and bruised, by Sabini’s men, but still got the cheek to play coy with me on my turf!” Alfie told her the truth, knowing she’d want to know about her old friend.

“Tommy got beaten up by Sabini? What in the world did he do…? That boy never knows when to stop, does he. Anyway, so you cut the cabinet in half. Now what do you do? Throw it in the ocean?” she asked, quickly forgetting about the Shelby boy.

“No! I take half of that cabinet and I put it into a barrel, and take the other half of the cabinet, and all its pieces, and I put that into another barrel.” His hands shifted between left and right to show off imaginary barrels.

“And you fill them up with gun powder and make them explode in your enemy’s factory?” she grinned excitedly at him.

“Gosh, lass, no! But now I hate that you have more imagination than me! But listen – This barrel – I send this barrel off to… Mandalay.” He flapped his left hand around dismissively, making the girl bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “And the other barrel off to somewhere like… I don’t know…” and he looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, unblinking and trying to come up with a funny city name, as she smiled with expectation for the punchline. “Timbuktu! You ever been?” the line was successfully delivered as the girl had to hang her head down and hide her face in her hands as she burst into laughter.

“Mandalay? Timbuktu? Where the hell are those?” she asked, unable to control herself.

“Fuck if I know, lass, but that’s the best of it! And y’know what? Know what, lass? I saw Tommy Shelby, right? Yeah, I saw him. All gloomy and dark and stuff. But I always thought he’d have a great, big, fucking gold ring in his nose!” Alfie joked around, and the girl was almost afraid she’d faint from laughing so hard.

“Oh, Alfie, you are the funniest man alive. So what did he say, how did he react to that?!” she urged him to continue.

“Nothin’! Nothin’ at all! He was silent as a fucking lake, lass! That Shelby boy has got no funny bone in his fucking body! Can’t even make a joke with him! Shoulda learnt from you, your company is a delight.” He saw Y/N quickly nod in agreement.

“Yeah, that’s right, Tommy has no sense of humour at all! He hasn’t smiled or laughed since the war. He’s changed completely. I know he’s been through a lot, you know? Everyone has. He still has that kind heart, and all he does, he does for his family… But it wouldn’t hurt him to be more genuine with them, or accept the fact that he’s not the only hurt one who can’t get over the war. I mean – I mean John, he’s my age! Got married, has like 4 kids already, married again and he’s still a brat as always! And you, Alfie! You said you were a captain, but you are the greatest person I ever met! He has no excuse for being a jerk. If he had a nose ring, like the bulls have, you could’ve just gotten a hook and tied him to a car and had him paraded around the streets of Camden Town!” she giggled in amusement, roasting her old friend shamelessly.

“Y’know lass, I think you’re as much of a fairy as I am, aye. You look all angelic and pure, but you have a wicked sense of humour!” the girl couldn’t help but let out a mock gasp of hurt and offense.

“Me? Wicked? Never! My, Alfie, you hurt me - How ever in this world could you possibly call me the Devil, when I’m known as Birmingham’s Angel? Recently, Britain’s Angel?” she laughed, almost as though she was making fun of her own nicknames.

“I think I’d much rather hear you being Alfie’s Angel.” Y/N’s smile froze, and her cheeks warmed up instantly, her gaze looking down at the tiny crumbles left behind from the tasty cookies. “Wha’chu say, lass?”

“I... Think I would like that very much, Alfie.” she could barely contain her timid smile.

“Wonderful news, lass!” Alfie merrily got to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, pretty Angel. Don’t forget to serve your little companions their dinner at the table, a’ight?” he bent down slightly to plant a small kiss on her cheek, a little ticklish from his bear, before nodding his head at her, a cheeky smile on his face, and he left, not without all the dogs desperately seeking affection from him.

“Alfie’s Angel, huh? Doesn’t sound half-bad.” Y/N giggles softly to herself, only to hear her maid coming out of nowhere and cheering for her for landing such a good man, though not without warning her not to get into trouble with the very many gangs and their wars. She was a sweet girl, Y/N thought - Perhaps Ollie would like to date a lovely lady like herself.

Many days and weeks, and even months passed, and Alfie visited Miss Y/N daily, never skipping a single day, or missing to bring her the prettiest flowers, and the freshest cookies and bread. He was going to spoil her rotten, that one, and he loved every bit of it, especially the shy look she always had on her face, and the hesitation of accepting so many gifts - He just loved pampering her, what could he do? It was in his nature after all.

And Y/N absolutely loved whenever he’d come over, and each day, with a new story to tell, and new jokes and rumours and gossips - He was an absolute delight, and her dogs loved him perhaps a little bit more than they loved her, at this point. It was no wonder, after all - Alfie started baking food for them! And Y/N thought she spoiled them! 

For once, Y/N stopped feeling the terrifyingly heavy pressure of anguish and torment weighting down on her very soul and being. She didn’t feel the need to work her mind into exhaustion, not tire out her body to the point of fainting asleep. She didn’t need to do any of those anymore, to feel alive and human. She only needed to look at those beautiful eyes of his, and those kissable lips, always forming a mirthful smile; to feel vitality returning into her body, and any sense of fear and anxiety escaping her very being. She remembered what it was like to have a sense of care and possessiveness over her own life, and finally, after so long, she wanted to be free - As free as it could get, unbound by any rule and regulation - To just have fun and thrive in the bliss of romance and happiness.

Once Alfie heard that, he kissed her sweet lips for the first time, admitting to wanting to retreat from the mafia life, and retreat to a calmer area where no one would be searching for him. Margate. A small cottage, cozy and warm, by the sea, where nobody would care to scold them for shooting those noisy seagulls, and Cyril and her dogs could run around aimlessly and run day in and day out, while they spend their time reading and baking and all the cutesy things that couples in love are supposed to do.

Before that, however, a few more things had to happen - Retirement wasn’t an easy process, after all, not in this business, and shrouding yourself into the veil of the unknown was even more difficult a task. People wanted their vengeance, after all, and they’d stop at nothing to achieve it. Nothing, including threatening the beautiful, benevolent Angel who was supposed to have neutral immunity from all kinds of parties. That is what she thought. That is what everyone thought. It was the catalyst of Alfie’s decision to speed up his retirement process and get this done and dealt with already. He never felt as angry as he was now.

It came during a time when Tommy rang Y/N asking for a favour, though rather uncomfortable. Alfie didn’t agree with this at all, he warned Y/N it would be dangerous - Deals with Italians were unpredictable, those bastards, and Sabini was a lecherous fuck who wanted to steal her away - But how could Y/N deny doing a favour to the man who helped her reach such heights though his influence? The man she went to war to protect? The man she took a bullet for? Her brother from another mother?

“Y/N, lass, you’re going to get fried to death if you approach that pasta fucker. I can’t just let you go.” Alfie grumbled worriedly. “And it ain’t just Sabini I’m worried about, love, it’s Changretta too. ‘course, all the fucking pizza fuckers came ‘round to screw things over, but Sabini keeps saying he ain’t working with that other fucker.” he paced nervously around the room, to and fro, fro and to. “Y/N, listen - Listen, a’ight? LIsten. It’s not Sabini I’m worried about, y’know? We’ve been at each other’s throats since school, it ain’t flash news, right -- I can deal with ‘im somehow -- But the other one? I know shit about ‘im. Came over from fucking America, and now he thinks he owns the whole fucking world, that one. And y’know what, hun? ‘e can fuckin’ have it, for all I care. Let Tommy Shelby fight with him. But you --- I’ll be fucking damned before I let him take you away from me.”

“Alfie, sweety, look at me.” Y/N got up from the bed, and approached the frantic man. She cupped his face and brought him into a tender kiss. “There’s no force on earth that can keep me apart from you. Besides! The hospital, remember? Even if Changretta comes over, I will just tell him of the deals, and the treatment and... He won’t hurt me.” without even realising, Alfie’s arms were wrapped around her smaller form, holding her close to his chest, pouting like a clingy child. “Alfie~! Come on, don’t tickle me with your beard! I promise I’ll give you attention all the after this is over, okay? But family is family, and I promised to help out. It won’t take long. And... It’s supposed to be some private party, right? A party with lots of people. He can’t just threaten me in front of everyone, right?”

“I don’t like risky things like this, Y/N. Can’t blame a man in love for worryin’.” He muttered against the skin of her neck. “But better tell Tommy I’m not gonna let him send you do his errands for him anymore, a’ight?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell him.” she couldn’t help her sweet, uncontrollable giggling, all because of him playfully running that trickly yet well kept beard of his over her soft skin.

Just as promised, Y/N dressed in a very pretty dress, making her look like an innocent, sweet flower blooming in Spring, overshadowing all around her with her beauty, thought there was no Tommy Shelby there waiting to escort her at the party. She didn’t think much about it though - She hadn’t a watch at her, so she couldn’t tell whether she was fashionably late or not, and he just went on ahead to do some of his work dealings with his gang friends. It was none of Y/N’s business, she was just supposed to be there as a peacemaker, a mediator, considering she was neutral with all, thanks to her position as the head of the hospital.

She grabbed herself a glass of champagne from a waiter and waited by the sidelines, watching the party unfold, with gorgeous dancers and the orchestra playing songs of all kinds. When a slowed song began, she awkwardly played the wallflower, not wanting to gain any attention to her, but of course, her not so favourite Italian came by, gallantly asking for a dance. Of course, she couldn’t refuse, more or less because she was a diplomat, and despite all the harassment from the past, all of them taking care in the hospital, at a party, it was all fine. Still, she hoped Alfie could have been there - It would have been more bearable.

“A gorgeous lady like yourself shouldn’t be all alone at a party.” Sabini said, making Y/N give a polite smile.

“Well, I was sure Tommy would be busy talking business with you, Mr. Sabini. I’m surprised you’re here, with me.” the man rose a quizzical eyebrow, hearing that.

“My dear, Thomas Shelby never once spoke to me today. In fact, I was not aware he was here at all.” Y/N’s body froze, and their dance stopped.

“What do you mean?” she asked in a whispery voice. “Tommy said he needed me here, as a mediator between the Peaky Blinders and the other gangs of London. If he’s not here -- Why would he ask me to be here?”

“Ah, bella, bella, bella, so your naivite and innocence only makes you more endearing.” he gave a smug smirk. “Luca Changretta asked your dear Tommy, to have a... Pleasant conversation. Negating deals. Business talks... Men talks. Signorina Y/N, he sent you over to receive a message, as he feared for his life, but counted on our long lasting friendship.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she felt terrified for her life.

“I... Don’t want to get involved in your business matters. I don’t do business. I just heal people, that’s all. I wanted to do Tommy a favour, as he is my brother, but I want to have a peaceful life, away from all the gang wars. Please, let me go home, Mr. Sabini. If you want me to send Tommy a message, I will, but I won’t get involved any further than this.” the Italian nodded his head, an almost nasty smirk on his face. 

“By all means, no one wants to hurt you, Signorina. It would be terribly rude of us to kill the messenger... Though Signor Changretta’s father was ruthlessly killed, in front of his wife, for no reason, by your brothers. But us, bella - We, Italians, care for our family above all, and Signor Changretta admires your devotion to your own. He is going to love meeting you.” Y/N slowly removed her hands from the man’s shoulders and offered a small smile, trying to keep her composure. But she was terrified to the core, almost as much as she had been during the war. Not only did Tommy betray her, but he threw her in a pit of vipers... Like a weaponless gladiator, forced to fight a hundred starving lions in the Colosseum. She was a healer, not a fighter! Damn it, Tommy!

“It was a lovely evening, Mr. Sabini. I will be taking my leave now.” with a certain elegant swiftness, Y/N was able to slip past Sabini and hide her presence in the sea of people, trying to make her way to the exit of the grand mansion, only to bump into another man, much taller than Sabini was, and he was towering over her, a passive smile on his face. It was much clear now, the whole place was filled only with Italians. She was trapped.

“Signora, what kind of man was vile enough to make a woman cry? Tell me, please, I will not have such disrespect in my family.” his accent was heavy, and his aura was dangerous, with a mysterious darkness. The stranger rose a hand to cup her cheek and rose her face to wipe the wet, gleaming under eye of the woman.

“Uh... Forgive me, Mr... I didn’t mean to bump into you and disturb you. I... I am not a very sociable person, I don’t do well with crowds. I... Was hoping to return home.” she offered an uncomfortable smile. This man was trouble.

“Don’t worry, bella, I will make sure to discipline my men better.” he nodded, chewing on what looked like a toothpick... Or a match? Was that a match? “You will have to forgive them. Anyway, may I escort you outside and call for a car for you?” something made her feel as though she hadn’t any choice in the matter.

“Y-Yes, please.” she nodded meekly, her voice barely audible from all the noise of the party.

With his arm around her waist, the stranger gentlemanly escorted the lady outside of the mansion, and outside, into the darkness barely illuminated by the lights from inside the house. Were it not for the loud music and all the chattering from the mansion, the graveyard silence would have been entirely ominous, save for the soft cricket and toad melody.

They were all alone.

“Do you wish to kill me, Mr. Changretta?” Y/N asked, frightened out of her mind.

“Kill you? Oh, Signora, no, no, why in the world would I wish to harm an beautiful lady like yourself?” he let out a sardonic chuckle. “Sabini tells me they call you the Angel of Britain. May I call you... Angelica?” Y/N didn’t answer. “Have I frightened you so, bella? Mi dispiace, it wasn’t my intention.” though, based on the sarcastic slur of his words, he was having his fun tormenting her.

“Mr. Sabini said you wished me to deliver Tommy a message. What is it?” the woman asked, holding her hands together tightly.

“Ah, yes, of course. Very brave of Mr. Shelby, sending his dear sister to do his dirty work. How shameful. You see, bella, we never put our ladies in danger. Sabini especially says he’s taken a liking to you for quite some good years. I can see perfectly well why. I’ve never seen a woman beautiful and intelligent such as yourself.” Luca’s hand found itself caressing her face, his long fingers reaching up to her hair, strong her long velvety hair. “I love how you defy this decade’s fashion, though you manage to look more elegant than most.” he kept complimenting her.

“Mr. Changretta, please... I am already dating a man, and we are soon going to move in together. I would appreciate it dearly if you would not continue your courting, though I am very flattered that one like yourself would find me attractive.” the man looked up at the sky, a dry smile on his face, watching how the lady tried to step backwards every time he inched forwards, only to end up with her back flush against a tree.

“Somehow, I don’t quite believe that. You are far too terrified from the simplest gesture. Admit it, Signora, you’ve never been with a man before, have you?” his smirk only widened watching her face burning with a sweet blush. “You needn’t say any word, your body betrays you.” he chuckled, getting uncomfortably close to her. “I hate making ladies cry. My mamma taught me better than this. She taught me to respect and cherish women, for they are a treasure - And I agree. I will not hard you, Signora Y/N. But perhaps you need to be reminded of the importance you play in this gang war... And maybe even remind your dear brother, as he seems to have forgotten about you and how much you worth. Would he react at all, if I were to laugh in his face and tell him I’ve claimed you? Will he even get angry, if I tell him I killed you? Thomas Shelby finds himself to be rather the undefeatable businessman and politician, but from our latest interaction, I say, he’s a man as much as any other, and he has easily exploitable weaknesses. It is really too bad you had to get caught in the middle of all this. I bear you no ill will, Angelica.” he leaned his face closer and closer to her own, to the point of feeling his warm breath on her skin - She tried to move away, though he fixed her head, cupping her cheeks forcefully. He truly just wanted to steal a little kiss, nothing more! He wanted to get a taste of her pink, plump lips that looked like the softest rose petals, bathing in shiny morning dew.

Instead, the loud, resounding sound of a gunshot made the man close his eyes in anger, whilst Y/N squeaked in fear, trying to fall to the ground and defend herself; an awful habit she couldn’t break even after the war was over. Luca used the woman as a shield, one hand buried in her hair, the other, holding a pistol to her temple.

From the paved street the soft sound of a cane was heard, as Alfie Solomons appeared, looking all dressed for a party. He looked alone. Was it him who shot, or was it another? Surely, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come by all alone, even if it was to rescue Y/N - And if he did, it only meant her worth was a hundred times more than he expected. Was he the man she mentioned just previously?

“Ah, Mr. Solomons, what an unexpected surprise. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Luca Changretta.” the Italian smirked, chewing on that match, approaching his face to touch his cheek to Y/N’s. 

“Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You are a bit of a failure, aren’t you? You come all the way over here, to this country, yeah, in order to kill Tommy Shelby - But, I mean, well - He’s not dead, is he?” Alfie smiled fakely at the Italian, forcing himself not to look at the whimpering look of his beloved.

“He would have been, were he not saved by Angelica over here. But he cowarded out, didn’t he? Can’t even have a conversation with someone who hides behind his sister’s skirts.” Changretta sneered mockingly.

“That’s it. I’ll tell you what, right? I didn’t want to come ‘ere, in your home, without a gift, yeah? It woulda been rude - And Jews are known for their hospitality, of course. Here - It’s free. A souvenir.” Alfie rose a single bottle of his rum, showing he was unarmed. “Now, why don’t you let go of that lady over there, and we say our goodbyes?”

Changretta smirked darkly at him. “Signora, why don’t you take the bottle and have a sip? Rum is sweet, for women. Men prefer dry, strong gin.” with trembling hands, Y/N extended her arms to get the bottle from Alfie. It was almost excruciatingly painful, being so close to his protective arms, yet so very far away... “Go on, Angelica, take a sip.” Alfie frowned, watching Y/N’s face contort slightly - She didn’t drink alcohol, she hated it. Even if rum was sweeter than most alcohols, it still wasn’t anywhere close to her sweet teas with too much honey in them.

“This clown wants me to run his shit rum into New York.” Changretta let out a dry laugh, insulting the Jew in Italian.

“Damn fucking straight, mate, otherwise you wouldn’t still be thieving my oxygen and patience, would you? Because I have 200 barrels a month, yeah, cleared by your people, distributed through your teamsters.” Alfie continued with the straight business deal.

“Didn’t you just hear me? People want gin these days.” Luca repeated.

“I heard you wanted to come over with a proposition for me. I hate waiting, yeah - So, that’s why I came over, to quicken things up a bit, before they get stale, right. I already know what you want. I just want to hear you say it out loud so I can check how ridiculous it is.” Alfie inched closer to the two, not once breaking his overly dramatic mannerism.

“Ah, bella, what will I do, I am losing my patience with him.” Luca shook his head in disdain, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Based on the twitch of his enemy’s eye, he had hurried over with a half-baked plan. No doubt, Thomas Shelby must have gone over to him to search for an ally in him. To come in the enemy’s den for a woman - Alfie Solomons was a suicidal maniac. “There is gonna be a little fight, a boxing match, between your boy and Tommy Shelby’s boy, and the whole Shelby family is gonna be there.” Alfie hummed, already knowing all this. “And you, Mr. Solomons, you too will be there.” Luca started stroking a lock of Y/N’s hair, intentionally taunting the Jew. “You know, they say you’re a smart guy. You already know what we want before we say it. That’s funny because I believe I know what you want even before you say it. Yeah. You want the girl back, that’s why you’re here. Maybe for the barrels too. But the girl... Yes, I get why you’d want her back. Can’t miss out on claiming a treasure like her.” he pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering and going down, towards her ear, whispering a small threat and softly slipping the sleeve of her dress a little down her shoulder with the barrel of his gun, revealing flawless skin, before leaning down her neck, and to her bare shoulder. Y/N tried to struggle away from him, whimpering from the uncomfortable fear she was feeling, and how violated she felt by the Italian, but the tight grip on her hair only brought out a whimper of pain and disgust from her.

If someone could look deep into Alfie’s eyes, they could see a wrathful fire raging inside his soul. He wanted to make pasta sauce from that fucker for daring touch his sweet lady and making tormenting her so. He had to play his cards well, feign ignorance and uncare, otherwise, he was afraid that wop will be taking Y/N as a bargaining chip and blackmail him, to the point that not even Tommy Shelby playing God would be able to save the sweet lady. “I want some cash too. Don’t worry, ‘cause I’ve broken it down here.” from the pocket of his coat, he took out a neatly folded paper. “A list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend, all right?” from his other pocket, he took out his glasses, putting them on as he read the terms and conditions to their deal. “Now, a normal dispatch, well, it’s, you know, 500 pounds cost, but you’re going to have to have to add another 100 to that because Tommy Shelby, like me, is from an oppressed people... And... I need you to put another tonne on top of that because his brother is a fucking animal and he will come after me.” Alfie kept reading, frowning every so often at the inconveniences he was listing. “And then you will need to put another 100 on top of that, because, well, you’re a fucking wop, mate, hmmm?” Changretta remained speechless, looking at the mess of a Jew who found himself hilarious, messing with him. “And then... We have to deal with the ugly business of which I’ve been incredibly clear of, before I’ll need another 500 pounds, because, like I stated, Tommy Shelby is a very, very good friend of mine.” though he wished to wring his neck for throwing Y/N in danger like that. “And... Another 500 pounds for threatening my wife. And 500 more pounds for making her cry.” Alfie folded back the paper, handing it to his enemy. “Total is down there, in black and white. All right? Crack on.”

“Mr. Solomons, I’m gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don’t need you to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you are gonna take my boys and you are gonna bring them to the ring as seconds.” Alfie frowned at the Italian.

“Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish, yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. You see, my good friend, Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.” he warned the unbothered Italian don.

“You see, these days, back in the old country, a lot of the, uh.... You know, the Jewish people, they, uh... They are having to pass themselves off as Italian.” Changretta chuckled menacingly. 

“All right, well, you’ll have to add another ton onto your bill - For being a cunt, mate.” Alfie refuted with a chilling calm. “All right?”

Luca looked away briefly. “You will bring my men to Birmingham?”

Alfie nodded his head, hoping his crazy humour was acting as reassurance for his lady. “You will circumcise them?” Luca was mute. “Yeah, you will have to circumcise them. Because the Peakys will check, yeah?”

“If they’re going to have their pretty doctor check, surely, she wouldn’t quite know the difference, would she?” the Italian jabbed at the Jew, who was imagining different ways of torturing this fucker.

“Don’t bother your little wop brain over what my wife does. She won’t be there.”  Luca smirked, knowing very well his uppercut landed perfectly.

“Okay. Any other requests?” he asked, laxing his grip on her hair. “Two hundred fucking barrels, we have a deal.” Alfie frowned, looking at him with disinterest. “What’s the matter? I said we have a deal.”

“Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you?” Alfie stared him down. Luca affirmed that statement. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he?” then, for the first time, Y/N heard the man speak in his own, native language. “You plan to kill us all.” though she didn’t quite understand what he said, the look in his eyes was enough to give her a good guess. Still, with the deal in place, Luca Changretta smirked in triumph, and with one last gesture of condescence, he forced Y/N into a deep kiss, before pushing her towards the Jew. “Sogni d’oro, mia bella Angelica.”

Alfie instinctively lunged forward, catching and gathering his lady into a tight embrace and watching carefully as Changretta stepped inside the mansion. He could feel Y/N’s soft trembles of her small body as she cried in soft whimpers - She was trying desperately to stay composed, but after everything she’d gone through, he couldn’t blame her. That margherita fucker must have creeped her to hell and back. “It’s okay, darling, cry as much as you need. I’m here, love, I’m here, okay? Alfie’s here, and I’m not gonna let go of you again.” she felt so warm, so safe in his large arms. “Let’s go home, yeah? No more of this gang shit. I’ve done over my plans, and we’re leaving faster. I’m not gonna let any of this fuckers even look at you ever again.” he massaged and stroked the back of her head, where that jerk hurt her, and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks and even her nose, before guiding her to the car, with Ollie driving them to the comfort of her own home, with her many dogs, and a shit ton of guards all around.

Y/N couldn’t say anything, and when they got home, Alfie had her maid draw her a warm bath so she could relax. He made sure to put a nice vinyl on the gramophone, and had Ollie return to their house to bring the emergency cookies for comfort, whilst he continued to internally curse Thomas.

He wasn’t sure how long she calmed down in the bath, with her maid comforting and chatting with her to get her mind off of the anguish she was put through, but when she returned, she was wearing one of her beautiful silk nightgown that barely went down to her knees, and she let herself plop on the bed, cuddling into his arms like a kitten seeking warmth. “How did you know?” her soft voice asked as he pulled them to lay down, stroking her hair and her face dearly, occasionally planting kisses and calling her sweet things. When Ollie finally came back with the cookies, her maid had brewed the sweetest tea in existence for them.

“Well, I always did pride myself with having good intuition, you know, but when Tommy came by my bakery, I realised - Shit, my sweet lady’s in trouble.” Alfie spoke, watching her cringe softly at the mention of the Shelby. “Asked him what the hell he was doin’ over at my place, instead of being there with you, and he said - Who would hurt you? Sabini wouldn’t, surely. There’s no person with more immunity than you, right?” he mimicked the man. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind, hun, hearing that. I was this close to beating him to death, yeah, nobody dares touch my sweet girl after all. He said some things about those fucking greasy wops, and it got me thinking - I already knew things were going to shit, and very fast, right, and I knew I had to make our exit as swift as possible - But when I heard you were all alone, with a bunch of sleazy fucks, my mind went crazy.” he gesticulated dramatically, before pinching her cheek playfully. “I promised Tommy Shelby a beating at some point, and I managed to land one good punch on him before coming to my darling’s rescue. Glad I got there just in time, but fuck, I’m so pissed - So fucking pissed you had to go through all that. I should’ve never let you go. Should’ve trusted my gut.” he grumbled, clearly angry at himself.

“Alfie.” she had an upset, pouting look on her face. “I’m sorry I let him kiss me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.” she hung her head in shame. “If you hadn’t come when you did... I fear what he’d have done.”

“Y/N, lass, what the hell are you apologising for?!” he exclaimed, his hands immediately going to raise her face gently to look at him. “As if a weaponless woman could fight a grown ass man with a gun. If anything, I should be the one to apologise for not being fucking able to protect you as a man should. I thought playing the wife card, and the extra billing, would get that cheapskate fucker let go of you already. Fucking cunt. He’ll pay, I’ll make sure of that.”

But Y/N frantically shook her head. “I don’t care about that, Alfie. I don’t want revenge, and I don’t care what happens to any gangs, okay? I’m sorry, Alfie, I’m sorry I- I’m selfish, okay? I don’t want to do this anymore. I just - I can’t. I really can’t, you know? Always in the middle of danger, always in the middle of war -- I just want to go live out a happy, peaceful life, with you, and our dogs, and a shit load of seagulls to shoot whenever they wake us up with that annoying screech of theirs. And then -- Then, I wanna go have a good travel, maybe. Let’s -- Let’s go to the mountains, I heard it’s fun hiking. The forests are very pretty too. We can hide away from everyone, we’ve got enough money, don’t we - And if you wanted to, I told you, you can open up your own real bakery, and live perfectly comfortable with those earnings. Anything - Anything, just to get the hell out of this God-forsaken, war-riddled, decrepit, barren city, and away from this awful, exploiting people who care for nothing but their damn fucking business.” the way her eyes were gleaming with both hope and desperation shattered Alfie’s heart. “Can we do that, Alfie? Please, can we do that? Just the two of us -- Maybe Ollie and Annie too, if they wanna - And our dogs too - Just us, a nice, big family.”

Alfie’s very soul felt honeyed from her words of love, and her wish of staying together with him - And it was tempting too, taking Ollie and her maid with them, he had to admit. They would finally be living the god damn peaceful fucking life that they deserved. He had been dreaming during the day, and during the night, of a life spent together with her, all away from this shit city, away from the shit gang wars and what nots. He was exhausted, he wanted to let his guard down for once, and he knew he could do that with Y/N. He wanted to provide her a beautiful, comfortable life, a peaceful once - She’s never been to the beach, and he really wanted to show Margate to her. Just them, and the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore, walking barefoot into the wet sand and playing in the water.

Perhaps it was a little close for comfort to both France and London too - Maybe some day, they could go further north, further away from the capital. Perhaps they can even change their names, take on new identities, retire completely. Sure, he’ll still be taking care of his Jewish community, but he would stop the mafia dealings - Let the younger generations get themselves in trouble a hundred thousand times per minute, he was completely done for.

“Yeah, my little cookie, we can do that, and we’ll fucking do it, and very soon, yeah? Very soon, I promise you that. I’ll keep you safe, and comfortable, and happy. First, in Margate, and if we get bored, wherever the hell we want, a’ight? With Ollie and Annie if they wanna join, and with our spoiled dogs, ‘course.” he leaned in, capturing her lips into a sweet kiss.

“Alfie?” she called his name, her cheeks flustering lightly, unable to meet his eyes, despite the beautiful smile on her face.

“Yeah, meyn ketsele?” Y/N always blushed so hard whenever he’d call her his little kitten.

“Is the... Erhm... Wifey spot still open? I’d like to apply.” Alfie couldn’t help but start laughing mirthfully at her bashfulness, only to pull her into a loving embrace, peppering her face with kisses all over.

“Ikh hob dikh shtark lib - I’d love nothing more than to be your husband.” Y/N felt faint from all the suffocating love and affection she was receiving all at once, but she couldn’t help but melt to the sound of Alfie speaking in his native language, saying that he loves her so much, that she was the love of his life and what more. It was almost funny, how quickly he became smitten beyond repair for her, but he simply couldn’t help it. Women like her only came about once every thousands of years, and he was just so happy, just by seeing that shy smile of hers, or waking up to her in his arms. How could he ever let her go? 

Y/N wasn’t Birmingham’s Angel anymore, and like hell was she Britain’s Angel. She wasn’t an angel, she was a little wicked fairy, the sweetest lady there was, and any other overdosing sugary sweet and entirely embarrassing term of love that Alfie could ultimately generate from the top of his head, just to see her adorable blush, but by hell, he was feeling trapped and addicted to her magic, and he was never going to let go of his darling honey bunch lady.

And Alfie was going to make her the happiest woman alive, and their wedding was gonna be fucking biblical.

[lazyyogi]

Hello dar Lazyyogi,

First of all, it is so good to read your words again after quite some time. And it always is. Thank you so much for continue to share, thank you so much for being here!

My question today is about medical school and going through a hard tough learning or academic journey. I started a bachelors in musical composition one year and a half ago and it honestly has been one of the most tough period in my life. I feel dumb. I struggle to understand concepts and I feel slow compared to collegues. I feel so fucking tired, that when I have the option to rest or study I need to rest - and that makes me question myself, if I am "meant" for this, or if I can truly do this as it's meant to be, or just how can I be the composer I want to be if I'm so tired I can't study properly in this period which is meant to be my composition uterus. I feel difficulty to understand my teachers, and I feel lonely when studying (music is a lonely study truly). I love music. I aspire to be a good composer in the classical field (and popular, which I already do). But I do not feel motivation and I just feel very, very tired. The first year was high in energy and I was struggling but fighting. This year I don't even have the energy to want to do it. But I want to continue because I know I can achieve what I envision - I know I can create beautiful music in complex forms. And I think I want to do it for a long time.

Did you encounter similar dificulties in medical school, please? And if so, how did you deal with it? Specially the tiredness.

Thank you.

Wow this sounds so challenging! Good on you for taking it on in the first place.

Firstly, all of this is challenging enough without adding stressful/depressing thoughts or questions regarding if you are "meant" for this, if you can do this, or if you can be successful.

When I decided to become a doctor after graduating college with a degree in English, I was taking on a path and coursework that I had deliberately avoided since high school. There were times I questioned if I could even do it or if I would ever become a doctor.

But none of that mattered or was important. All that mattered was on thing: Was I willing to find out?

So when all of these thoughts arise questioning if you're cut out for this, if you can manage to succeed, just direct all of it into one question: "Am I willing to find out?"

So long as you're willing to find out if you can do it, then nothing else matters. Just proceed, do your best, and find out.

If you succeed then great. And if not, then you have to evaluate why and adjust your approach.

I failed to find a place for myself in the film industry, which then led me to becoming a doctor and then a surgeon. There's nothing wrong with failure so long as we aren't afraid to honestly evaluate and adjust our approach forward.

Secondly, the tiredness. My advice here is prioritizing your physical well-being.

I like that you choose sleep when necessary, because that's important. Recognize when your studying is ineffective so that you stop wasting your time. If you need a break, take a break. If you need to stop for the day and go to bed early, do that!

Get enough rest but also make sure you set aside 1 hour a day for self-case. Exercise! Doing 15 minutes of cardio daily is huge and will make a big difference. Do some yoga a few days per week. Sitting and studying so much can take a real toll on your body! Seriously.

Make sure you are eating well. Take a multivitamin. Make sure you are getting enough vitamin D.

If you can work 15 - 30 minutes of meditation into your day, great. Even 5 - 15 minutes is still helpful.

Lastly, and this is a big one:

Don't confuse knowledge/skill acquisition with intelligence!

This is something I learned during my residency. I have always had learning disabilities but I never appreciated what that really meant until residency. I acquire knowledge quite slowly. I am a slow learner.

If I judge myself solely based on my learning abilities, I would feel quite stupid. But I'm actually quite clever and ingenious in the ways I apply my knowledge and skills. Understanding this distinction has provided me with more confidence in myself and more self-insight.

To summarize my advice here:

Don't make a challenging process even more difficult by adding your own negativity, doubt, and fear. Learn to meet your challenges in an objective, strategic, and tactful way. Find a self-care regimen that works for and supports you.

And it's never a bad idea to consider speaking with a therapist as well. Someone to help you work through this endeavor could be an amazing resource.

Hang in there, take care of yourself, and see where it takes you!

Much love.

LY

[tommy-288]

Content Warning: mature, graphic

I was doing a deep dive on The Chamberlain Bros™️ and I found something interesting, yet very sad. This is post is not to belittle Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain by any means, but I don’t think many people know about this and I think it’s important when people discuss his life after war (more specifically; how his marriage took went downhill and why he was gloomy) they consider what I’m about to tell y’all.

Most people know (if you’re a Lawrence fan and drool over his Wikipedia page like me) of the wound he received during the siege of Petersburg. In general; he was shot in his groin, the bullet nicked his bladder and urethra. It sounds devastating even by today’s standards, and without modern medicine it was a living hell. Once he was brought to the field hospital the surgeons were at a loss.

Torso wounds were terrible, mostly because the surgeons didn’t have the time to dig the bullet(s) out. They were working on amputations or anything that could be done quickly and required less tediousness. So when Lawrence was brought in, they pretty much considered it fatal. And when Thomas caught word he got a regimental doctor, Abner Shaw, to treat him. Shaw and one other surgeon (I forgot his name), worked on Lawrence all night. And as far as anesthesia goes, he would’ve felt the majority, if not all of the pain.

Now, here’s where it gets 18+. There’s some discourse on where exactly Lawrence was injured. From what I could tell most of the discourse comes from a letter written by Ellis Spear.

Now, it’s important to note that Ellis and Lawrence didn’t get along after the war. From what I can gather, most of the beef was over a memoir-type book they were writing about the 20th Maine. And if you look at previous Spear’s previous accounts on the incident, it doesn’t mention anything about his penis

But it’s still up in the air (there’s a joke there somewhere) whether or not he was shot through the hip or his penis. He also fathered a child after the war, which must’ve been pretty hard (shut up) since the injury, no matter where he was shot, would make it nearly impossible to get an erection. Not to mention the PTSD he suffered.

That was probably the biggest reason why Fanny and his marriage took a turn. His death was most likely a result of the old wound. He had to have surgery a number of times after the war and he got lots of infections. It’s really sad and not many people know of the severity of his injury.

As I said before, I am not in any way trying to dunk on Lawrence. I would marry him. I think he was a very good person and soldier. I just wanted to share this lil tid bit of info.

[answersfromzestual]

I want to talk about something today. Something very important for younger people and newer people coming out.

Research with legitimate sources, aka scholarly articles and medical journals/studies. Wiki is not a good source, people can change info at any point true or untrue.

We want to look for articles with medical and area professionals clearly placing their name in and on the article, or the most reliable sources are called scholarly articles and medical journals/studies, also some gender affirming clinics lay out a lot of information on their websites, most clinics dont mind answering your questions or concerns via email or phone (they may get back to you at a later date). When looking for information, you want peer reviewed medical information. Google has these features that can help narrow down your search for more accurate results. Using quotes around exact words or phrases is a trick to narrow down to more on topic search results.

Also, use Google Scholar (just type "Google scholar" into the search bar to find only actual medical articles and studies. Even lawsuits.

This is the google search bar for scholarly information below:

****READ THE ARTICLE FROM START TO FINISH OR AT LEAST THE PART(S) THAT PORTAIN TO YOUR RESEARCH!(some articles can include more than one study)****

Don't only use one source for your information, find as many as you can until you feel confident in the field of medicines and your concolusions about them. Information you use should be verified by several responsibly written articles, journals, and/or studies.

Call surgeons' offices, ask questions.

Research doctors in your area or a doctor you really like, again don't be afraid to call or email clinics!

When it comes to surgery and your body, if you have a bad feeling, any bad gut feelings before they put you under, about the surgeron or their methods, even team. You can back out until you are knocked out. You can say no as soon as you walk into the surgical suite. You worry about you.

Please, when going onto transgender groups (facebook and stuff), that not everyone is being genuine with you. People can be anything or anyone on the internet, behind that screen. I see trans people spreading anti-transtional propaganda (not on purpose), and they don't notice or know better. The negative people tend to pick out their victims early, cling onto someone newer in transitioning or even just joining the group. They probably try getting chummy really fast, getting into a lot of detail very early. They will start bringing up [negative] transitional things when they have nothing to do with the conversation you are having. It's a red flag when you can't talk about anything but "transitioning," and its a sign you need to block if all they say are negative, things. Life happens, but you don't need to drown yourself in negativity. Beware of people on the internet. Their intent is not always good, anyone can lie, anyone can find fake pictures for their profile, anyone can pretend to be someone they are not. Some of us should know that well as trans folk. Some people are even legitimate and are perhaps mad/ unhappy about their results and tend to use way overly dramatic words to describe their results, these people usually aren't telling you the whole truth. People also tend not to want to put any blame on themselves. If you aren't being honest yourself about your results and what and where things went wrong thats not okay. That,or telling someone not to do something that prevents transitioning or calming their dysphoria, that's considered transphobia.

It's important to also know that Facebook, Twitter, etc. are often looked at by employers, so many people will not use their own profiles to be a imaginary person.

Edit: Yes, transgender people can be transphobic as well. Look up Caitlin Jenner and what she's said and tried to do. Let me tell you now, she said transwomen should not be allowed to compete in sporting events, claiming "allowing transwomen to compete destroys women's sports" . So please, if you use that card, put it back in the deck. It's not true, and it's just a wrong blanket statement altogether. There are people who finish their transition and forget they had the rights they want taken away.

I want you to know and it's important to know many end results almost solely rely on the person and how they take care of themselves pre-op and post-op (yes taking care of your body before matters for optimum results). If you are heavier, your body has a harder time healing. This can cause complications and less favorable results because of those complications. I do have a post on being larger and surgical complications that are involved with that. (Here are some links about plus sized risks and general risks: plus size, general risks)

From Dad Shadow: Remember, don't tell anyone online personal information, even if you have been talking for years. Also, do not place yourself (ex. "Im gunna to go to the Starbucks on fifth around the corner from my house." this is especially bad if they may know your partial location) Someone can figure out your identity/location. Don't reveal anything you'd be asked to use as an account recovery question. When I was a younger adult, I saw someone post an image of a girl he met on 'Omegle', saying, "They accidentally got disconnected." Within two hours, everything about this girl was on this thread... from her name, where she was attending school, her personal address, her Facebook. All of it. It was more than one person looking and posting as well. People can be like this... I know you know, but the Dad in me wants to remind you. Browse safely!

I hope you read this and found it helpful everyone. I felt this is a need and it doesn't need post secondary education classes to teach you how to properly find sourced information for reports (same as your knowledge on the subject you are talking about).

P.s keeping your skin elasticity is very important, so mosturize your pecks, let it dry, then put on your binder.

Stay Golden Everyone ✌️ 💙 💜

[mashbrainrot]

Colonel Flagg in 'The Interview'

In 2006, Larry Gelbart wrote dialogue imagining Trapper, Henry Blake, and Colonel Flagg had featured in the M*A*S*H episode 'The Interview'. Here is Colonel Flagg's, with the original available to read here via Google Groups.

REPORTER: As you might imagine, an army field hospital sees an awful lot of traffic in any 24-hour period. A certain percentage of those comings and goings have nothing to do with the medical personnel stationed here with the 4077. We spoke with one such officer on the strict condition that he be allowed to be interviewed only if he could respond to our questions with his back to the camera. Why this was so would soon become apparent – even if his identity did not. May I at least call you by your rank, sir? FLAGG: I’d prefer you didn’t. REPORTER: It’s all right to say that you’re an officer, though? FLAGG: It’s all right to say anything you like. One of the things our country is fighting for over here is the right for anyone and everyone to say anything at all they like. Likewise, it’s my right not to say whatever it is I don’t want to say.

REPORTER: Fair enough. FLAGG: It’s also my duty to report anyone to the proper authorities for saying something that they thought it was all right to. REPORTER: I’m not sure I follow. FLAGG: I’m not sure you realize just how much you do. REPORTER: When you say “the proper authorities,” can you be a bit more specific? FLAGG: About what? REPORTER: About just who “the proper authorities” might be? FLAGG: If you’re not doing anything wrong, you’ll probably never have any occasion to find that out. REPORTER: And what would qualify as doing something wrong? FLAGG: Anything, anybody that questions what we’re doing over here – any questions about our leadership. REPORTER: In short, anything that questions anything at all. FLAGG: Anything having to do with the war. REPORTER: Technically, this isn’t a war. FLAGG: Then technically no one’s dying, right? REPORTER: And just how does all that concern you, if I may ask? FLAGG: It’s my job to see that everyone in this effort is all on the same team. That everyone on our side has the right amount of blue and white to go along with however red they might be. REPORTER: You’re from army intelligence? FLAGG: You setting up your own punchline? Save it. I’ve heard them all. REPORTER: Basically speaking, what it is is you’re spying on people. FLAGG: Spying’s a crass word. I think of what I’m doing as monitoring their patriotism. REPORTER: And this is all in the cause of freedom? FLAGG: The price of freedom includes giving up however much of it is required so that you can hold on to the rest. REPORTER: Do you ever listen to whatever it is you’re saying? FLAGG: I don’t have that kind of time, really. REPORTER: I think I’m beginning to understand why it is you won’t face the camera, sir. FLAGG: Who I am is not important. The more people know about me, the harder is for me to find out about them. REPORTER: Does that include getting all the dirt you can on the surgeons at this MASH unit? The medical officers? FLAGG: (Scoffs) Officers. There’re enough bleeding hearts around here to fill up a bucket a minute. REPORTER: You don’t think that they do their job well? FLAGG: Saving lives? The odd limb? I’ll give ’em that. REPORTER: I’m sure they’d appreciate it. FLAGG: You going to need much more time, fella? REPORTER: You have to get back to work? FLAGG: Vigilance is not piecework, friend. It’s not a hobby either. REPORTER: I’ll let you go then. And I do thank you for your time. FLAGG: You mind if I ask you a few questions? REPORTER: Turnabout’s fair play. Shoot. FLAGG: Not now. Before you go. I did a little research when I heard you were coming here and there’re a couple of organizations you belong to that I’d like to know a little more about. REPORTER: Anytime you say. I’m not leaving until tomorrow. FLAGG: Let’s hope you do.

[buggyboyizhere]

whats your headcanons for yanov and yuu ? iknow you posted paul and pat but im wondering if you did those two as well

THEM RAHHH1!1!1!1!1 vine boom and loud sobbing !1!1

They’re general gist is they are so so in love and tragic and silly and and :3

If you care for some rambling it’ll be down here, and if it temps you to click on it there’s a little treat

Just noticed I forgot to add flags on the ref but the country ones were mostly to check if I slapped all the facial features I wanted onto em’ ( Also because I will not hc all the EW guys as white/British it’s truly the bare minimum to add diversity )

Hope this doesn’t read awkwardly because erm I only THINK of them, autism be damned I cannot just create simple bios it’s gotta be a biography

General :]

Height:

Yanov - 6’9

Yuu - 5’7

Gender/Pronouns:

Yanov - (Trans) Man, He/Him

Yuu - Nonbinary, Them/He/She

Sexuality:

Yanov - Gay ( MLM )

Yuu - Pansexual

How they met :D

In med school, pre RA. Yuu struggled to contain any information so him and Yanov regularly got together to study, leading to very late night conversations about themselves. Even when Yuu decided to drop out they kept in contact, Yanov occasionally sneaking them in to watch his surgeries. They both eventually got bored of their respective lives and wanted to share it ( unfortunately ) as a trauma surgeon and nurse in a bare bones rebellion ( RA ).

Their roles in the RA :>

Yanov is a trauma surgeon, he’s usually on the field or dragged into doing some weird mechanical project Tord wants help with.

Yuu is a nurse but not? I don’t know what else to describe him as, but he’s on the field helping carry soldiers to safety, or at base doing patient care when Yanov needs some extra hands.

Headcannons :3

Yanov is selectively mute, communicating through sign language or very rarely gives a one or two word answer/order/etc. It’s rooted in anxiety and just not talking is better than saying something. Yuu usually helps with shouting orders or asking for things he needs, never to speak over him but to give him a voice.

When there’s zero work to do and no one’s dying they lay back and nap to old ( 60’s-80’s ) love songs

Yuu practically begs Yanov to connect the dots between their freckles because they think it’s a sweet little reminder of him, it’s usually on her hand or arm.

Yanov writes cheesy little poems in a notebook he carries around 24/7. Yuu takes a peek in it and reads it every chance he gets, literally giggles and kicks his feet. No, Yanov has no idea they read what he writes, but he couldn’t care less if he knew that’s what she was giddy over.

Yuu has no interest in doing surgeries, discovered very quickly he can and will need to walk away and puke. They’re perfectly fine just handing over tools or taking care of the patient after it’s over. Meanwhile Yanov is crazy over it ( Cristina Yang core ), he will gently bully another surgeon into giving him a cool surgery he wants.

They’re both a good bit older than the rest of the guys, closer to their 50’s by the time the RA is well established and settled (Pat/Paul/Tord are around mid 30’s). It’s a common joke between the guys to point it out, it’s not bothersome, and they sometimes play into it. ( Also the ages are just when I think of em’ in my favorite area of the story I got going ) ( Also old man yaoi </3 )

They got into their relationship the first month of being in the RA. The feelings were mutual years before this but Yanov thought he was too busy, he’s still overwhelmed with work, but he’ll squeeze in time to relax with Yuu. In their later years Yanov decided to train more surgeons so he could spend more days with Yuu.

Yuu is :3 and Yanov is ._.

Neither of them EVER expected that zombies would ever be an issue.

Patryck and Paul are considered close and good pals, and Tord is basically the scum of the earth.

Extra non important thoughts :P

Erm I’m still writing that Pat fic and I cannot wait to write out them in a separate fic about how gut wrenching it is for them to live ( esp Yanov, yippee confetti confetti !!! )

Nyways I love em’, they’re literally my ocs at this point I’ve got like a gazillion thoughts on them

Here’s the Timelapse as a treat :3 I put down many little doodles and notes </3

[coochiequeens]

Western doctors usually have no trouble telling women and non-females apart when they dismiss women’s pain or they diagnose a woman with trauma with a mental disorder.

A surgeon and professor is being mocked after criticizing a crossword puzzle which used “adult human female” as the definition for “woman,” calling it “un-inclusive.”

On January 18, Dr. Rhea Liang posted a screenshot to her Twitter calling attention to a crossword she had seen in a Gardening Australia magazine. Liang expressed she was “disappointed” to see “un-inclusive” language being used as a hint for one of the crossword lines. In her screenshot, Liang underlined a hint which read “adult human female.”

Liang claimed the definition was a “siren call for hatred,” and tagged Gardening Australia‘s parent media group, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.

Liang is a breast and gender surgeon at Robina Hospital in the Australian state of Queensland. She’s also a co-lead and clinical associate professor in the faculty of sciences and medicine at Bond University. 

On her Bond University profile, Liang is described as having a particular research focus on breast cancer management, as well as “diversity and inclusion in medicine.”

Despite having a both a background in advocating for women in the medical field and a specialization in women’s healthcare, Liang began to attract attention on social media for her post railing against a definition of “woman.”

Many users initially believed Liang was joking, or was a parody account intended to mock the absurdity of trans activists. Some expressed shock when they realized she was being serious.

“Unbelievable, this person claims to be a breast surgeon in her bio, but thinks adult human female is un-inclusive. Honestly you literally couldn’t make this up,” tweeted one user in response.

Some Twitter users were also quick to point out that as a doctor specializing in breast cancer, Liang should be aware of what a woman is. 

Sall Grover, the founder of women-only social media application Giggle, replied to Liang’s post and noted that an understanding of biological sex should be considered important in women’s healthcare.

Liang responded to Grover, writing: “A woman is most commonly an adult female human, (the word order is important) but there are a proportion who are also adults, born genetically male, who are women.” 

Liang continued to call the definition “adult human female” a “hate phrase” stating: “You only need to google the phrase ‘adult human female’ to get pages of anti-trans hate. It’s such a known hate phrase it’s caused a ban from standing for the UK Parliament.” 

In an effort to prove her point, the women’s health doctor then shared an article about Natalie Bird, a mother of two and domestic abuse survivor, who was banned from running for public office for wearing a shirt that said ‘Woman: Adult, Human, Female.’ Bird was also targeted by trans activists after asserting that women’s refuges should be segregated based on sex. 

“Adult human female” has been used as a slogan by women’s rights campaigners who aim to protect single sex spaces by reaffirming that males cannot be women. 

Despite being a long-standing definition, the words were popularized as a political slogan by Standing for Women, a rights campaign established by Kellie-Jay Keen. Keen sells t-shirts reading the definition, such as the one Natalie Bird was reprimanded for wearing, to fund her campaign. 

Many critics of gender ideology have also pointed out that trans activists have failed to provide a coherent alternative definition for the word woman. 

The question “what is a woman?” became a popularized slogan after conservative podcaster Matt Walsh made a documentary in 2022 highlighting the harms of gender ideology. A focal point of the feature were interviews with trans activists who seemed unable to provide a definition for “woman.” 

Confusingly, Liang added a tweet to her original post today asserting that “adult female humans” is a more “inclusive” way to define “woman.” Ironically, Liang is frequently consulted by Australian media on the experiences of “female” doctors.

The definition of the word woman has become so divisive that Dictionary.com labelled “woman” as their 2022 Word of the Year.

“Searches for the word woman on Dictionary.com spiked significantly multiple times in relation to separate high-profile events,” the Dictionary brand wrote on their site. 

According to Dictionary.com, searches for the word “woman” increased 1,400% after Ketanji Brown Jackson’s supreme court confirmation hearing where she failed to give a definition of the word, claiming she did not have the specialty to do so.

In October of 2022, Cambridge Dictionary came under fire after abruptly adding an alternative definition to the word “woman,” describing it as “an adult who lives and identifies as female though they may have been said to have a different sex at birth.” 

Their definition for female reads, “belonging or relating to the sex that can give birth to young or produce eggs,” which undermines their newly expanded definition of the word woman as males do not belong to the sex that can give birth. Many have stated that this second definition renders the word meaningless.

By Shay Woulahan Shay is a writer and social media content creator for Reduxx. She is a proud lesbian activist and feminist who lives in Northern Ireland with her partner and their four-legged, fluffy friends.

[kitkatt0430]

🎱 🪐 🔪 🌿

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

User Subscriptions: 177 Kudos: 39,919 Comment Threads: 2,449 Bookmarks: 8,391 Subscriptions: 1,343 Word Count: 2,191,216 Hits: 373,375

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

My dad has retired which means I can spend more time with him. Since I live and work near him & my mom, I can meet up with him for lunch sometimes on weekdays.

I've gotten back into reading new mangas lately now that there's a Barnes and Noble just down the street from me. Before that the closest book store was a resell shop that, though nice, doesn't have the greatest manga selection. With mangas and comic books I tend to prefer physical books over ebooks, so it's been really nice to be able to browse a large selection again without having to drive fifteen to twenty minutes.

I've been reorganizing my kitchen which probably sounds boring, but I've gotten some new dishware and glassware that's brighter and more colorful than my old stuff and so the open shelves actually look really fun now. Since I started indoor renovations last year, I've really been enjoying how having things brighter and more colorful help lift my mood, so I've been trying to extend that where I can.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Hmmm, well... I've researched various sentencing standards for various crimes and how those crimes are classed. But that's not really weird. Nor was looking up how living wills work and power of attorney and what-not. Though it was interesting to learn that in the US if you give someone the right to make medical decisions for you when you can't, they cannot also be your doctor. So if you need a surgery and a surgeon in that field holds the right to make your medical decisions then they cannot also be the one who performs the surgery

Makes sense, but was also an interesting/relevant find for fic writing in the Flash with regards to Caitlin.

But weird... weird... I'm pretty sure looking up poisons is par for the course for a fic writer too. Average apartment rent...

I think I tend to look up more mundane stuff and make up the weird, really...

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

So it might help to step back and see if there are any patterns in when you're feeling blocked and/or low in creative feelings. For me, in the Fall I start to feel kinda burned out. It's definitely a seasonal thing for me that brings it on and, unfortunately, sometimes trying to just push through makes it worse. The more stressful my year, the harder that Fall burnout hits me.

Knowing what the pattern is can help you break that pattern, or learn to recognize and react in more helpful ways to minimize how it makes you feel.

For me, I think looking into aides for dealing with seasonal affective disorder may help. Having alternative hobbies that I can turn to also helps to calm me down when I'm upset or even just annoyed about something. I can pick up a video game to take my frustration out in the game battles or grab a paint-by-numbers or scratch art page and concentrate on creating something pretty to look at. It helps hit that creative scratch I need without frustrating me over how my own imagination is kinda at a low point for making fanworks.

But also there's learning to accept that sometimes burnout just happens. It's not my fault and being upset with myself doesn't fix the issue. Being able to step back and say 'okay, I need to focus on something else for now and let my creativity recover' isn't easy, but it's an important part of letting my brain heal from whatever is causing the block.

[iamgroot-42]

#8 Dr. Strange

This week, I'm back with #8! Dr. Strange

So Dr. Steven Strange was a master surgeon in New York. He was a very important and impressive man in the medical field. However, little did he know he was lacking so much in his life. Within the first 30 minutes or so of the movie, he got into a car crash that he was mostly able to recover from, but led him to damage both of his hands beyond repair. He quickly fell into a horrible depression because his career came to a swift halt, and he had nothing else in his life.

Steven Strange went on looking for help. He heard of Kamar- Taj in the Himalayas. This is where he met the Ancient one. He was told to forget everything he thinks he knows. He had a very closed mind and did not believe a word she was saying. He had no reason to believe in magic or spells etc, he only ever relied on logic. She (Ancient one) was very hesitant about him because of that, but the cloak picked Strange. Which meant it saw far more potential than anyone else. She teaches him that there's so many wonders and complications in the universe and multiverse. There is way more than just the logic of the human body.

I love this movie because it's so mind winding and thrilling. It can get confusing at times if you don't follow closely because there's just so much information thrown at you at all times, but that's what keeps it so crazy. Also, I love the theories about the universe that it provides, too. I am a sucker for crazy theories, and this movie really fuels that for me. It talks about endless possibilities of the power of the mind, and as someone who adores psychology, this is an amazing movie for that.

The reason he became so powerful was because he was someone who could “look past the boundary of what is possible to do the impossible”. This quote is one that always gives me chills every time I hear it. I think it's so inspiring and makes me want to do big and powerful things with my future. I know none of this is real, although I wish it was, it still shows me that I can really do anything if I just leave my mind open to everything. It makes me so eager to start university and be able to specialize in my own thing.

His biggest and most useful power, in my opinion, is his power to manipulate and control time, allowing him to see into the future, travel through time or create time loops. Not only is it fascinating to see, it happens to have the biggest effect on further MCU movies. So I suggest to you all, to watch them all and figure out what that means ;)

Finally, this movie is just crazy to watch. All the little details that go into the visuals, the script and the plot, is amazing. The whole idea behind his character is brilliant. I love watching him become more mature and intelligent in his new abilities. Maybe he was the best surgeon ever, but this gave him the opportunity to gain what he was lacking, such as his emotional intelligence, control, an open mind, and more. All the characters are super interesting and so complex.

Although this movie is engaging and entertaining, I rank it at number 8 because it still has a few things missing. It does have its jokes thrown here and there, but just not as much as I would've liked. I like a movie a little less serious and lighter. Also, I do find that this movie is a little rushed and missing some things. But overall, such a fun watch, especially for those of you who love crazy theories and have a big imagination like me.

I can't wait for you guys to see how important he becomes! HINT

[scotianostra]

William MacGillivray, Scottish naturalist and ornithologist was born on January 25th 1796

Although a native of Aberdeen, MacGillivray spent his early childhood on Harris. He returned to the City to continue his education and graduated MA from King’s College in 1815. His early years were spent outdoors observing nature at first hand, a vital experience and one that confirmed in him his poor opinion of the ‘cabinet naturalist’ who never left his study. 

Aged 21, on the verge of his career as an outstanding naturalist and bird artist, when he left Aberdeen to spend a year at his childhood home at Northton in Harris. In that year he kept a detailed journal that provides a rare insight into the rural life of 19th century Scotland, especially of the Outer Isles. MacGillivray recorded details of everything that happened in his daily life, the weather, his feelings about the people that he met, the food that he ate, the clothes that he wore, even the games that his family played in the evening.

It was during his regular 360 mile commute on foot between Harris and Aberdeen that he developed a passion for natural history. In 1819 MacGillivray embarked on an even longer walk from Aberdeen to visit the museums in London. He covered 837 miles and chronicled his journey in a 60,000-word journal.

In 1821 MacGillivray moved to Edinburgh as assistant to Professor Robert Jameson, responsible for curating Jameson’s natural history collection. He was appointed conservator of the museum of the Royal College of Surgeons in 1831. During this period he lived on meagre wages supplemented by copious writing. Ten years later, in 1841, he returned to Aberdeen as Professor of Civil and Natural History at Marischal College. He remained in post until his death in 1852.

MacGillivray was a much-loved lecturer within the college and to his extra-mural classes, impressing upon his students the importance of going out in the field and handling specimens. Over his career, MacGillivray produced books and articles at an astonishing rate, and covering a diverse range of natural history topics, but his most important works were his History of British Birds which appeared in five volumes between 1837-1852, and the posthumous Natural History of Dee Side and Braemar .

William MacGillivray was also a close friend and collaborator of the North American naturalist and painter John James Audubon. He worked with Audubon between 1826-1838, helping him write the massive text to accompany the latter's Birds of America. They remained life-long friends and MacGillivray brought with him to Aberdeen many specimens given to him by Audubon.

You can find a large collection of his drawings here at the National History Museum's website, a total of 213 watercolours of mammals, birds and fish.

[foxymoxynoona]

I'm a healthcare worker. Often, we don't think about the fear and dread a patient experiences prior to a procedure of any kind, never mind one as extensive as what you're facing. Seeing you talk about it with such a positive attitude is so inspiring to me, and it renews my commitment to going in everyday and giving our patients my best. That has been especially difficult in the last few years with covid. I hope everything goes better than you expect and you're back to feeling your best very soon. As much as we all miss your incredible writing, your fans have also grown to care for the incredible person behind the words. You got this!

I thought about this ask so many times in the period leading right up to my surgery. I think you're very right. The waiting is MISERABLE and there's nothing you can really do except endure, but because it's not the flashy part, doctors/hospital staff etc didn't really have much focus on it. They were like "get a good night's sleep before the procedure." HOW? lol. The procedure and recovery are difficult but at least there's activity. Especially with this where I had to go into the surgery without knowing what would actually be done to me, that I would "wake up" and find out what happened, it was just mentally torture. In general I am a very positive thinking person, and I'm glad it still came through that way in my posts leading up, but this was a hard one to stay that way for. I have never in my life been scared like this.

Bless you and all the people like you who are working in the medical field though. I only have a glimpse of what an exhausting and difficult job it has been, especially through COVID, but damn if it's not one of the most important things you could do with your life. Almost every single person I interacted with during my stay, from the surgeon down to meal service and housekeeping, were absolutely incredible and helped me through when there were times I genuinely wasn't sure I could do it. Even the smallest thing made such a huge difference to me when I was in such a vulnerable, miserable place. You're touching lives with everything you do!

[killerandhealerqueen]

What made you pursue forensic science as a study? Was your love for detective shows a factor? Or did you want to know the gritty details of how forensics really worked?

Also, I was the 😅 anon before! Revealing myself lol.

Haha, hi! I would have made a tag for you when you were on anon, but I didn't know what 😅 would translate to in words, so I just left it as "anon edition". But if I make a tag, would you prefer "unknown edition" or is there another name you'd prefer?

Anyways, when I was younger, I actually wanted to be a nurse or a surgeon. But at the time I realized that 1) I'd have to deal with blood (I didn't like blood back then, blood doesn't really bother me now) and 2) I'd have someone's life in my hands and that scared the fucking hell out of me so I said nope.

But, I've also been very interested in science. English and science were the subjects I was always really strong in and I actually won an award in middle school for being super inquisitive about science, so that kind of...spurred me on to consider/pursue a career in science.

As I got older, yeah, watching a lot of crime shows did help, like CSI: Miami, Criminal Minds, the First 48, stuff like that and then I started watching Forensic Files and I'm like "That. I wanna do that". Also, anytime we took those like MBTI tests and they told you what sort of job you'd be good in, I always got either science teacher or criminal justice. So I kind of leaned into that as well.

In middle school, I was lucky enough to visit the Honolulu Police Department and talk with someone who worked as a crime scene photographer and sort of get the scoop on how crime scene investigation and stuff like that works so that also sort of helped me realize that hey, forensics is an option and it's kind of fucking cool and maybe I wanna pursue that.

In high school, I wrote a paper on what a CSI is actually like and how it's not everything the television shows make it out to be (the CSI effect and all) and surprisingly, doing all of that research just made me want to do forensics more.

And then in college, the college I went to actually had a degree in Forensic Biology, so I was fucking ecstatic about that. Same with my master's program. I'm very lucky that I was able to go to schools that focused/had degrees that I wanted to pursue in them and I'm also very lucky that my parents urged me to pursue this sort of degree.

Also, working at the morgue for two summers also really strengthened that I seriously want to work in the forensic/death scene investigation field and that we really help put a lot of families at ease.

Also, just learning how important death scene investigations are (sort of similar to crime scene investigations except one is done by the morgue and one is done by the police) and what goes into death scene investigations and what we do...it's all very fascinating and I'm grateful that I got to experience it.

Also experiencing an autopsy. That was a first for me, but I remember it very well and I also found that incredibly fascinating (the doctor was very patient and explained how and why he was doing what he was doing and if I wasn't getting my masters in forensic investigative science, I might have considered going to medical school to become a forensic pathologist).

So yeah, always sort of wanted to work in the criminal justice field, always sort of had the drive/urge to help people and I realized that not everyone has the stomach to be a forensic scientist but I do, so I should...maybe pursue it

get to know the blogger

[kamil-a]

The term “dentist” originates from the French word: dentiste, which came from the French and Latin words for tooth. According to ADEA, “Pierre Fauchard, a French surgeon credited as the Father of Modern Dentistry, published his influential book, The Surgeon Dentist, a Treatise on Teeth”(2022). The book made a system that would help others know how to care for and treat teeth. This is why A Lot of people consider Pierre Fauchard to be the father of dentistry.

While Pierre Fauchard is known as the father of dentistry he is not the first dentist. According to ADEA, “Hesy-Re was an Egyptian scribe who lived around 2600 B.C. and is recognized as the first dental practitioner.”(2022) Evidence of dentists was found in hieroglyphics and even (although not many) in human remains. According to the dental center, “dentistry in the United States used to be practiced by the same people that would give you a haircut....... They were known for their crude practices as well as handing out bizarre advice to their patients”(2022) Dentistry began to be more popular after Pierre Fauchard’s book.

Although Dentistry has existed for a while, throughout history the job of a dental hygienist was just another job for physicians, barber-surgeons, etc. it was only in 1960-1970 when more research was done. It was shown the importance of dentistry but also separated it from other medicines. According to Lisa Simon, “the notion of dentistry as a field separate from medicine is a historical phenomenon that has been reinforced through legislation, education, and service delivery” (2016). While dentistry is a branch of medicine but it is not considered medicine because dentists and doctors receive different training. As well as the language used to diagnose patients is also different.

this one can get posted actually because maybe you're trying to put this somewhere so you can have a quick reference for this information. ill tag it special even 👍

[beggars-opera]

#okay this post got me heated for a sec but I'm good now#i think otoh if your training program doesnt train you to write for nonexperts then its shit#and OTOH the language we use is there for a reason#no one expects surgeons to explain their surgery in laymans terms because why the fuck would they?#the language is important the whole point of the discipline is to put words to the visual which IS DIFFICULT#that is why it is a whole discipline#there has to be a way to split the difference i agree#but i think saying 'art historians are obscure in their language and it alienates others' is true but also ignores the necessity of AH#as a discipline with its own language and codes FOR A REASON#and yes we get stuck in our ivory towers and yes so much theory is impenetrable to even people with higher degrees#and that is a problem that needs to be adressed#(along with our field's deep ties to old-money old-thought and nepotism of the same which is its own post)#and more outreach and accesibility work needs to be done esp for cultural institutions#but also no one is asking medical professionals to change the terminology they use in their journals#to cater to people without a medical degree#it is precise language needed for a precise purpose within a field of work#and it has its value for just such a reason

I understand where you're coming from, but it's a bit apples and oranges, and a very, very common issue in museums.

As an educator, my role is finding that happy medium between what curators want people to know in the language they use to explain it, and what the general public can be reasonably expected to absorb and understand. People don't ask medical professionals to not use jargon in a journal, but they do when the doctor is explaining what he is going to do to you, a normal person, during your surgery, and if he refuses that, he's an asshole. The museum likewise is not an academic journal, it is a place open to the general public. Specialized language is important and useful among peers, but the general public is not just made up of peers.

This is one reason why I actually love audio and app tours in concept because you can create layers of interpretation that allow people of different levels and interests to explore something. A museum label should state one or two things that are important or interesting about a piece, like a technique that was done very well or a story behind the subject, in simple terms that most people can understand at an eight grade reading level max. That's standard accessibility. In a perfect world you would allow the visitor to then explore the details through tours, qr codes, etc. That is the space for a specialized educator to do an academic deep dive or a simplified version for kids. But if your budget doesn't allow that you cannot decide that your core audience is other academics and write a novel on there using that language.

The sad truth about striving for accessibility is that it is impossible to make everyone happy, and accepting that is difficult. When I write a panel and have to cut down my hyperspecialized rambling to a hundred words, yeah, it's painful. And I know that regardless of what I do, there are going to be people who know a lot about the subject who leave unhappy because they view that as "dumbing down" the subject. I also know that there will be other people for whom my words are still too confusing for them. And hopefully the majority of people who in the middle will leave both having understood what I've written, and wanting to learn more. That's the best I can hope for, honestly.

That was a bit of rant and I hope I didn't come across as harsh; I did not mean it that way.

The fine art world has such a huge problem with accessability. The vast majority of writing surrounding or about fine art is written in a way that requires you to have a degree in art to understand or parse it fully. Most didactic panels (the panel next to an artwork in a gallery that describes the piece) are written in this voice you pick up in university to make your work sound more grandiose or enigmatic. Most theory books you’ll run across are built off referential language (often with no definition) from other theory books. They’ll use words with clear common definitions but use it in a specific unique way that either only them or another author has used the word in. Its this incredibly restrictive way of writing that i think keeps people away from the art world. For the average person its probably pretty impenetrable to pick up a roland barthes book (it is too for us inside the art world too). It feels like a lot of writing around art is built in this way that its specifically constructed to be challenging to read or follow. Which for me as someone with processing issues its a nightmare to get through a book even though i love theory. Its a matter of re-reading almost every sentence 2-5 times before it sorta clicks or i have to just move on and hope for something that contextualizes it better further in.

The fine art world just isnt made with people with processing issues or learning disabilities in mind. I can only imagine what its like for people who speak english as a second or third language. And its a real shame because theres so much great things that are then barred to those people because its too obnoxious to even begin trying to parse. I really believe artists should take it upon themselves to write as if someone whos never once stepped foot in a gallery is going to read their didactic panel or book. Its a problem academia produces and i really don’t have much of a solution for that but its something i try to be conscious of.

[trinaphleb]

Drawing Blood: A Journey Through the Fascinating History of Phlebotomy

Drawing ⁢Blood: A Journey Through teh Fascinating History of Phlebotomy

Drawing Blood: A⁤ Journey Through the Fascinating History of Phlebotomy

Phlebotomy, the practice of drawing blood, is an essential aspect of ⁤modern medicine. This intricate process has a rich tapestry of history that dates back to ancient civilizations. In this ⁢article, we ‍will explore the fascinating journey of phlebotomy, its‍ historical significance, various techniques, and the numerous benefits it offers in the healthcare ⁤field.

Understanding Phlebotomy: An Overview

Phlebotomy comes from‍ the Greek words “phlebos,” meaning vein, and‌ “tome,” meaning to cut. The ‍practice involves‌ the​ collection of blood samples for diagnostic testing, ‍transfusion, research,⁢ and more. Proper drawing blood ⁤techniques are crucial for ensuring the comfort and ⁢safety ⁢of patients, as well as the integrity of the‌ blood samples.

A Historical Journey: From Ancient Practices to Modern Techniques

The history of phlebotomy ‌dates back ​thousands of years, with ‍its earliest known practices found in⁤ ancient Egypt, India, and Greece. ‌Let’s take⁣ a closer‌ look at some key milestones:

Period

Significance

Ancient Egypt (3000 ‍B.C.)

The practice of bloodletting was used for medical treatment ⁣and spiritual healing.

Hippocratic ​Era (5th Century B.C.)

Hippocrates introduced the theory of the four bodily humors, emphasizing blood’s role in health.

Middle‌ Ages (5th to 16th Century)

Bloodletting became a common practice,​ with barbers doubling as surgeons.

19th Century

Phlebotomy techniques advanced with the⁤ introduction of sterile practices and ⁤modern instruments.

Modern Era

Phlebotomy is now a specialized field with trained professionals, improving patient ⁢outcomes.

The Evolution ​of Phlebotomy Techniques

Over the centuries,phlebotomy ⁣techniques have evolved significantly. ‍Here ⁢are a few notable techniques:

Venipuncture: this method involves inserting a needle into a vein, usually in the arm, to ⁤collect blood.

capillary Puncture: also known as fingerstick, this⁢ method is used mainly ‍for children and involves pricking the skin to‌ obtain a small blood sample.

Arterial Puncture: This is⁢ performed ‍to collect ⁢blood ⁣from an artery, usually for⁣ arterial blood gases.

Benefits of Phlebotomy

Phlebotomy‍ is not ‌just a process for collecting blood; it provides numerous benefits, including:

1. Accurate Diagnosis

Blood tests are crucial for diagnosing various ‌health ​conditions, from infections to chronic diseases.

2. Monitoring Health

Regular blood tests help monitor the effectiveness⁤ of treatments and overall health.

3. Research​ and Growth

Blood samples are vital for medical ​research, ‍helping scientists understand diseases⁤ and develop new treatments.

Practical Tips for​ First-time phlebotomists

For those aspiring to become phlebotomists, ‌here are some practical tips:

Ensure⁤ a thorough understanding of human anatomy and blood circulation.

Practice good communication skills to ease patient anxiety.

Maintain a sterile ⁣surroundings to prevent infections.

Always follow safety protocols to protect yourself‌ and your patients.

Case Studies: The Importance of phlebotomy in Modern Medicine

Let’s take a glance at a few case ​studies⁣ highlighting the impact of phlebotomy:

1. Early Detection of diabetes

A patient⁣ experiencing unusual thirst and fatigue underwent blood testing that revealed elevated blood ⁤glucose levels, leading to an early ‌diagnosis of diabetes.

2. ⁣Monitoring Medication Side Effects

A cancer patient required regular blood draws to⁢ assess blood cell counts ⁤during chemotherapy, allowing for timely adjustments to their treatment​ plan.

Personal Experience: A Day in the Life of a Phlebotomist

As⁢ a phlebotomist, ​each day brings a mix of challenges and rewards. Here’s a glimpse into a typical day:

Start the day ⁤by preparing⁣ equipment‍ and ensuring quality control of the blood collection process.

Meet and‍ greet patients, explaining the procedures to alleviate their concerns.

Perform blood draws with precision and care, ⁤ensuring patient comfort at all times.

Process and label samples⁢ accurately for laboratory testing.

conclusion

Phlebotomy is a ⁤critical yet often overlooked component of healthcare that has‍ evolved significantly throughout ‍history. Understanding its journey,‌ benefits, and techniques not only highlights its importance but also promotes gratitude for⁤ the professionals who perform⁣ this essential task. whether you are‍ a patient⁢ or considering a career in phlebotomy, recognizing the significance of drawing blood can enhance⁣ your understanding of its role in ⁣modern medicine. Embrace the fascinating world of ‌phlebotomy!

https://phlebotomyschoolsonline.org/drawing-blood-a-journey-through-the-fascinating-history-of-phlebotomy/