#and i am so fucking scared for what will happen next

[michaela-o]

Hi hello everyone :D🧡

So a while back i made a post about Cybertronians witnessing humans being feral when in fight or flight response or how humans act when we are on adrenaline in general because i really like this idea. But hear me out- :D

Protective, scared and angry human = very scary human

We all have this natural need and drive inside us to protect. Wether it's the person we love, family or friends. I myself am very protective when it comes to anyone i love. I would throw myself in front of a bear if i had to. Or i would fight anything and anyone if i had to protect the people i love.

Now imagine if the human was the size as an average cybertronian: (slight warning for blood at the end)

The Lost Light got under attack by the infamous DJD and everything goes to shit so quickly no one has time to react as the deadly members tear through the ship and with Tarn having one goal in mind and that was to find Megatron. His optics burning with lust for killing him. Eventually he finds him and they both fight together. The human is watching this from the security office locked in with other members of the Lost Light. They all watch in horror and worry as they both fight. But Tarn doesn't play fair. As Megatron gets knocked by him the other bots notice as the human's breath quickens, their frame is shaking a bit and their teeth are tightly gritted together. Their protective drive has woken up.

Enough is enough..

You know what Megatron did..but no one has the right to take away someone else's life..especially someone like Tarn...Megatron was almost like the father the human claimed to never have..

As the human turns swiftly to unlock the door the other bots try to stop them but the human is determined and full of anger and adrenaline as they push past the bots who are taken aback. The bots are not fast enough as the human is already sprinting towards the scene where everything was happening. So many thoughts and emotions ran through them as they sprinted..anger, fear (you know because it's still fucking Tarn)

But no they aren't backing away now.

As they round a corner they barely make it in time because Tarn was already aiming his canon at Megatron.

The human suddenly jumps in front of Tarn and they srunch their nose and bare their teeth at him, their arms spread over Megatron. Tarn stares in disbelief and then he chuckles. You may be the size of a cybertronian but you're still a fragile dumb human.

"If you want him..you're gonna have to go through me first.."

As the human growled no one wanted and couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing back at the security room on the cameras. Thats it the human has gotten crazy. NO ONE would do a thing like this. It's like you were asking to be killed. It's the DJD.. Even Megatron's expression almost changed to bewildered and wide eyed.

Of course the human got a good beating from Tarn but there was just something in them. This weird wild look in their eyes as blood dripped down their forehead into their eye and down their chin. Scratched and battered with at least 4 broken ribs they still stood with determination. Tarn was enjoying this but it was getting frustrating and on his nerves. Tarn is deadly and strong but the human was agile and quick. As Tarn was about to finish Megatron once again (because he thought the human was finished) they once again threw themeselves in front of him with this crazy look in their eyes and the next words rang out in everybody's ears.

"Over, my, dead body..."

The human was shaking, growling and huffing slowly loosing their strenght but reinforcements were quickly arriving and the DJD was in disadvantage so they had to fall back but of course Tarn would be back and would take the human with him the next time.

And this is how i think bots view this :3

From the cybertronian perspective:

The bots, often more concerned with survival and the war’s toll on their world i think would most likely react with shock. Tarn is a fanatic Decepticon who enforces ideology without mercy, would represent the last person they’d expect a human to stand against. They might interpret the human's bravery as foolhardy or even reckless, given Tarn’s terrifying reputation, but they may also see it as a powerful symbol that courage and conviction can transcend size and power.

From Tarn's Perspective:

I think Tarn, who worships Megatron’s original vision and detests any deviation from it, would be utterly incensed. The idea of a human—whom he views as nothing more than an insect—intervening to protect Megatron would enrage him. He’d view it as an ultimate insult to Megatron's legacy and to the Decepticon cause, likely intensifying his resolve to destroy them both to "cleanse" this offense.

Aaaa i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i did writing :3🧡 here i also drew a picture of the human so you could imagine the whole scenario better :3

[matchaelette]

gif by @yoongi-bts

when jungkook is a vessel of love, and love is as beautiful as the poets said it was

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash, established relationship, the first time 'I love you' was spoken out aloud. the more earlier stages of their relationship. yearning, tenderness, fluff, it's all sickeningly full of love.

genre: fluff

warnings: none.

word count: 3.4k

notes: life updates. one: i'm back. obviously. two: jung hoseok is back and ksj 1 is coming (!!!) three: I am officially a uni student and majoring in civil engineering. classes start from the first week of december. four: I have decided to officially name this drabble series *drumrolls* the hopeless romantic series. so, without further ado, welcome back, our hopeless romantic couple!

you’re in love with jungkook.

no, you’re not allowed to say that.

fuck what you’re allowed and not allowed.

you’re desperately, helplessly, hopelessly in love with jeon jungkook. your gorgeous, gorgeous boy.

yours.

then why are you not allowed to be in love with him?

because you’ve been dating him for three months. three months.

only three months, since you decided to stop pining after him, decided it was enough, after god knows how long. three months since that decision led you to be extremely nonchalant around him, calm and collected to a point where it almost looked fake (you’re a terrible actor), and the next thing you knew, you were heavily making out with him in the chilly air of a fall night. calm and collected, indeed. three months since you learned that jungkook was pining for you in the same manner, if not more, and three freaking months since both of you decided to date, being head over heels for one other ever since.

it's too soon to say ‘I love you’. even if you know deep down that you were in love with him even before dating him– but there’s no way you’re treading that water. the realization of being in love with him right now is enough to freak you out. no, it’s definitely too soon to declare ‘I love you’.

because you don’t know whether jungkook feels the same way. although it’s not like you need or expect him to feel the same way you do. just because you’re in love with him doesn’t mean he has to be. you can happily wait until he’s ready and feels the same way.

you’re just scared that he doesn’t want to feel that way. that you’ll scare him away.

look at him. does he look like he feels the same as you?

jeon jungkook looks like a slow-motion daydream, standing in front of you. tight-fitting jeans, snug around the well-defined muscles of his thighs, and a black checkered shirt, sleeves rolled up, displaying the protruding veins of his arm. his curly hair covers the vein in his forehead, almost reaching down to his lips which were pouting in distress.

yeah, you don’t care how he feels. you’re in love with him.

but you are a graveyard of all the people you ever loved.

you can’t have jungkook join those ghosts of the past.

“three hours now. we’ve been trying to fix it for three hours.”, you shake your head, frustrated. you’ve been out all day today and the last thing you wanted to do when you got back home was your laundry. but the lack of fresh clothes compelled you to do it anyway. and everything would’ve been fine had you not entered your laundry room to discover the whole floor flooded with water. panicked and disoriented, your first instinct was to call jungkook, despite it being past midnight. when your boyfriend heard what had happened, he immediately demanded you step aside and that he was already on his way over to your house.

“this thing–”, the boy of your dream grumbles out loud in real life, breaking your thought train, “–hates me!”

oh, that.

now, it’s four in the morning and you’re both dripping wet, absolutely drained, standing in a puddle of water and soap. all you could do is to stare dejectedly at the washing machine. it was a losing battle.

“oh my god!”, jungkook cries out in indignation, “a minute ago it was sprinkling water in my face, now it’s sprinkling soapy water!”

“jungkook, move away”, you hurriedly pull your boyfriend away from your washing machine. he rebels under your grip, the patience he displayed half an hour ago was now transformed into rage.

how can someone be so cute when they’re mad?

“let me go, ash”, he points a threatening finger at the washing machine, “you wanted a fight, buddy? I’ll give you!”

“jungkook!”, you laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, “it already won! look at us!”

jungkook stares down at your attached bodies, soaked from top to bottom, while the washing machine looks like it is having a field trip.

“okay, I give up”, he sighs and rests his chin on the top of your head, “unless–”

“no unless.”

“hear me out first”, he smooches your hair, “you smell amazing by the way. anyways, unless– wait, what was I going to say? I was supposed to say something amazing.”

“I’m sure it was amazing, babe”, you chuckle with fondness, “but that thing is a lost cause. I’ll call maintenance in the morning. let’s take a shower and go to sleep, okay?”

“mhm. yeah”, he replies in affirmation but only tightens his arms around you.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late. I should’ve just– I don’t know. I mean, it was just a minor inconvenience. not a big deal. I don’t know why I freaked out–”

“princess, ssh”, jungkook coos, “you have a problem, you call me. doesn’t matter how small or big it is.”

“kook, I literally called you at one in the morning.”

“and I am very glad that I am the first person that crossed your mind. even though I couldn’t help you. I swear to god, this washing machine has a personal grudge against us.”

“thank you anyways”, you mumble against his chest.

“hey, this is what boyfriends are for.”

how is it possible not to love him?

you wake up to the humming of a honey-caramel voice in the distance.

you yawn and grab the crisply folded silk robe from the foot of your bed. the clothes haphazardly tossed on the ground last night were nowhere in sight, and neither was the person who did so. yet you could hear his hums, feel his warmth.

you smile.

the clock on the wall reflects a bright 11:10, and it’s safe to say that you’ve just woken up. after staying up with your rogue washing machine till four in the morning, you can’t really blame yourself. you feel very well-rested though, for the first time in a while.

jeon jungkook’s presence has that kind of power.

you make an effort to stay silent in your own house. your bare feet tiptoe against the icy floors, carrying you to the sweet melody you’re fairly certain is your boyfriend in the kitchen. and undoubtedly it is. jeon jungkook has his back turned towards you– white tee clinging to his physique, his hair damp and disheveled, singing softly to himself while doing the dishes.

you hold your breath and hug him from the back, resting your cheek against his spine.

jungkook, momentarily confused, laughs when he realizes it’s you.

“good morning princess.”

“good morning jungkook”, you inhale him in. he smells like peaches and baby soap. and fresh laundry. “you smell heavenly.”

“I just came out of the shower–”

 “–hey!”, you cut him short when he gently peels you off him, unexpectedly devoid of warmth, but jungkook hugs you back in an instant; your ear against his ribcage, his chin on the top of yours.

“mmm, that’s better”, you mumble, “did you do the laundry? you smell like detergent.”

 you can almost reach out and touch the outlines of his smile. “you couldn’t do it last night so I thought I’d take some work off your shoulders. I folded your clothes as well!”

“aww, you didn’t have to do– wait, the washing machine is fixed?”

“yeah, I called the repairmen in the morning and they said they were coming over. I was pretty surprised at how quickly they arrived.”

“what happened?”

“one of the pipes got leaked somehow. I think I also did some damage when I tried to fix it. but don’t worry, it’s as good as new.”

“not worrying”, you let go of jungkook and let muscle memory guide you to the coffee machine, “why did you wake up so early?”

 “it’s one p.m. in the afternoon. what’re you talking about?”, jungkook laughs.

“it’s one p.m.?!”, you choke on your coffee, “the clock– but it was eleven–”

“it’s out of battery. I got new ones though”, jungkook points at the bags sitting on your counter.

“you went grocery shopping? you spent an entire lifetime while I slept!”, jungkook chuckles at your awe, “tell me from the beginning. what did you do?”

“well, I called the repairmen as soon as I woke up and then I went to take a shower. they were here by the time I was done. I made us breakfast while they fixed your machine, went grocery shopping afterward, came back and did laundry, here I am now”, jungkook kisses your forehead, “all while someone slept like a baby.”

“oh my god. thank you so much.”

I love you.

“you’re welcome, babe”, he smiles, “I gotta leave now. but listen, I got you ice cream, popcorn and those salty chips you seem to love so much. call me if you need anything else.”

“huh? why though?”, you peer in confusion. you’re usually not very big on snacking. and jungkook knows that. unless it’s your–

“your period is supposed to start tomorrow, genius”, he rolls his eyes, “you don’t remember, do you?”

you clearly didn’t.

apparently, he did.

you tiptoe forward to hug jungkook, too stunned to form any coherent word. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the tears filling your eyes but when he lifts your face to gently kiss your eyelids, you realize that he knew you were gonna cry.

yeah, I definitely love you.

“hello, jungkookie’s girlfriend!”

kim taehyungs’s visibly enthusiastic face beams at you through the screen of your phone. your initial reaction is to wave brightly at him, despite the slight confusion of whether you accidentally called him when you picked up the phone to facetime your boyfriend.

“hi, tae!”, you say heartily, “gosh, it’s been a while since I saw you.”

“and whose fault is that, huh?”, taehyung’s voice is a warm breeze on a spring evening, “jungkookie tells me you’ve been like… hella busy”

“I was. I mean, I am. it feels like I am always busy these days”, you sigh, “but never busy enough for you guys! how are you?”

“good. busy as well, but good.”

“kook told me last night. you guys work way too hard.”

“wait”, taehyung exploded into laughter, “jungkookie was at your place last night?”

“...yeah?”

“our manager was looking for him and jungkookie was going on and on about how he was in his room all night and manager hyung didn’t knock loudly enough!”

“oh my god, he wasn’t supposed to be at mine yesterday?”

“no, I mean, he was done working but he didn’t tell anyone before leaving the dorm!”

“that might be my fault”, guilt fills your eyes, “I was doing laundry last night and my washing machine started leaking water everywhere. I panicked and called kook. I’m sorry”

“hey, it’s okay, no harm was done”, taehyung looks amused, “so you were doing laundry at midnight? no wonder jungkookie is obsessed with you.”

“obsessed with me, huh?”, you smile playfully, concealing the tiny somersault your heart does.

“he literally never stops talking about you”, taehyung grins widely, “bro is whipped”

“hmm, I did call bro’s phone, right? or did I accidentally call you?”

“how do accidentally call taehyung instead of jungkook? one starts with t and one starts with j”, taehyung suddenly looks disgusted, “unless you saved him as something weird, in that case, I don’t wanna know–”

“kim taehyung.”

“or you can just tell me that you missed me, you know”, taehyung flips his phone camera and you spot a dancing jeon jungkook in the middle of a huge practice room, “but since the only person you care about is jungkookie–”

“kim taehyung–”

“–you called him, okay?”, you hear taehyung’s laughter, “I was playing games on his phone. he’s practicing extra today.

“practicing extra?”

“he said you guys made plans to hang out tomorrow.”

“we– we did”, you’re puzzled. jungkook continues to dance furiously, his quick and precise movements almost defying gravity, completely unaware of his surroundings, “wait, we planned to meet tomorrow because both of us had a clear schedule. why is he practicing extra today?”

“hobi hyung was asking him the same thing”, taehyung nods his head in mock disappointment, “we don’t really have a free schedule tomorrow. but he said that if you couldn’t meet tomorrow it’d be a while before you did. right?”

“y-yeah”, you blink.

“soooo, yeah. as I said, bro’s so whipped.”

oh god. be still my wild heart.

“this boy”, you finally exhale after a pause; feeling bad that he’s overworking himself to meet your needs, feeling grateful that it’s worth it to him.

“this boy, indeed. no, actually, we’re kinda proud of how amazingly we raised him.”

“you really, really did. ya’ll should give out parenting lessons.”

taehyung chuckles, “okay, I’ll give the phone to him.”

“tae, don’t”, you smile, quickly stopping him from calling jungkook, “just tell him to call me whenever he’s free, okay? I’ll be up.”

“okay, then. take rest, okay? don’t overwork yourself.”

“look who’s preaching”, you shoot him a stern look, “the kings of overworking themselves. take care, okay?”

taehyung laughs, “yeah. come over to the dorm whenever you’re free. we all miss you.”

“I will. bye!”

“kook– stop it–”, you say in between a few puffs of breath, “you’re– god– tickling me!”

“am I?”, jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, and smothers his face on the exposed skin of your tummy once again, causing you to almost choke with another round of laughter. the sensation of his lips against your tummy has the butterflies inside going frenzy, but a part of you is scared shitless that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with yourself.

you want to laugh; you want to cry. you wanna twirl into a knot and fly up in the sky. jungkook has no idea of the power he has over you– his body molds into yours, one his hands have shaped, a design he has drawn, kissed it into a sculpture.

you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it.

I love you. I love you so much that I can’t deny it any longer, the promise stays silent on your tongue.

you wanna cry.

at least, you think you do.

“your heartbeat is going crazy”, jungkook calms down once he’s done tickling you out of your wits. he moves between your thighs and presses his ear against your heart space while gently laying his head on your chest.

yeah, do you know that is because I love you and not because you tickled the living lights outta me?

“princess?”, he asks quietly.

say it.

“princess?”, jungkook raises his head and looks at you, mildly concerned “are you okay?”

say something.

instead, you stare at him. you stare at his eyes. if eyes are actually a mirror of people’s souls, jungkook’s eyes perfectly represent his– filled to the brim with tenderness, tranquility, and mirth. a few years ago, you had read somewhere that humans were created from the burned-out embers of stars. you never believed it. the same folks who start wars, spill blood, stealing lying deceiving and doing everything evil, cannot be created from something so divine.

however, jungkook, over and over again, contradicts that belief. you have no doubt he’s born out of stardust. and fiery comets, northern lights, solar eclipses, everything magic.

“why are you crying?!”, jungkook’s anxious voice snaps you out of your reverie. without realizing you find yourself getting pulled up to sit on his lap, straddling his thighs. “is it me? did I do something?”

“itsh nn-not”, you utter weakly but the words come out as a stifled sob. when jungkook doesn’t understand what you’re saying, he completely loses his composure. he lets go of you and attempts to pry himself away, fairly convinced that he must’ve done something stupid. but you dig your fingers in his arms, trying to communicate with your firm grip that he did nothing wrong. it’s you, you’re the stupid one.

it takes him a few more seconds to realize that you’re crying for something else altogether, and only then does he relax. he wraps his arms around you, letting you break down in his little protective bubble.

what is wrong with me? why does every feeling of mine come out as tears?

“it’s okay, it’s okay”, jungkook coos, “breathe. breathe with me.”

“inhale with me”, he holds eye contact and carefully guides your breath, “good. now exhale. in. and out. it’s okay. I love you. you’re okay, princess.”

and

everything

just

freezes

for a moment.

for a moment?

seems like a lifetime.

you never realize how many types of ‘I love you’s there are until they’re spoken out aloud. most ‘I love you’s are expressed as a confession, while there are some which are born out of panic. I love you. do you love me back? these ‘I love you’s are full of anxiety, and a desperate longing for reassurance, for arms that’ll keep them safe. some are born out of anger and frustration. I’m doing this for you, because I love you, why don’t you understand? then there are those which are born out of pure terror because I love you but I’m afraid that all I’ll ever do is hurt you.

jungkook’s ‘I love you’ sounded like it was nurtured, a flower that bloomed inside a long time ago. like a blanket woven from your favorite human on the entire planet and falling asleep with someone inside your heart no matter how alone you feel outside; a promise.

not that any of you were in the right state of mind to realize that.

you and jungkook realize at the same time. the words that have been spoken out to existence.

he stares at you; you stare at him. devastated, mouth hanging, eyes bulging. none of you breathing.

jungkook closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again.

“that was not a mistake”, his voice is deep and low. you hold your breath, afraid to miss a single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I do. I will if you allow me to. not that I can help it– I mean, even if you don’t allow it I can’t help myself. I love you. it’s not like I can just un-love you! wait, why do I need your permission anyway? it’s my feelings we’re talking about! okay, but it does concern you”, jungkook looks mortified, “but still, you don’t have to say it back. it’s great if you do but like, there’s no pressure. just don’t tell me to un-love you because that one is none of your business, oka–”

you kiss him. you kiss the living lights out of him. jungkook doesn’t even register what’s happening, he just accepts everything– the way your lips smashes against his, the way your tongue envelops his, finding you in every corner of his mouth, feeling you in every inch of his skin; a drunkard clinging onto every last drop of alcohol yet never having enough.

jungkook is literally panting when you let go of him.

 “I was crying because I am in love with you. I have been in love with you for a while now and I didn’t know how to say so”, you confess. only a few words are enough to make realization flash in his eyes. after all, he knows you. he knows you well enough to know everything, even the things he doesn’t.

“I must’ve been a saint in my past life to deserve this”, jungkook closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours.

“I think this is your first life. you’re like the sugar in a cookie.”

“what? I thought I was the cookie!”, jungkook furrows his eyebrows, offended, “also, sugar isn’t good for you. what are you talking about?!”

you giggle in response.

“hey! take it back”, he overpowers you in a swift motion. he reels your bodies backward to hover over you, pinning your hands down on the mattress, smirking. “otherwise you’re gonna regret it.”

“regret? nah, I think I will enjoy it”, your smirk wipes off the one on his face.

“oh boy”, he sighs.

“jungkook?”

“yeah?”

“say it again”, you whisper.

“I love you.”

“again.”

“I love you.”

[writingsbytee]

SURPRISE! - TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER

WARNINGS: 18+ ; angst; fluff; SMUT; minors do not interact!

PAIRING: Terry x Gwen (reader)

SUMMARY: You and Terry have been broken up for 3 months. You’re injured in an accident and the hospital calls Terry to notify him and… surprise

TROPES: second chance; 

WORD COUNT: 4,074

“Ms. Daniels, please wake up”, a gentle voice eases me back into consciousness. My head feels like it’s being split open with a claw hammer. I blink slowly so that my eyes can adjust. 

When my eyes finally focus I look up to see a pretty lady in scrubs looking down kindly at me. 

“Welcome back Ms. Daniels. You had us scared there for a moment,” she says.

“What hospital am I in? What happened?” I say sitting up and holding my head. 

“You’re at Benson Memorial. You were in a bicycle accident. You’re fine just a few bumps and bruises. Your head CT was clear, so nothing to worry about there, ” she says handing me a cup of water. 

I take slow small sips as I try to recall the past few hours.  I never even saw that car coming as I crossed the road from one trail to the next. I hear muffled shouting coming from outside my room, and the doctor shoots a nervous glance my way. 

“Ms. Daniels, your boyfriend is outside and I don’t know how much longer he can wait”

I nearly choke on my water, “Boyfriend?”

I hear a commotion outside my door before the doctor/ nurse can open her mouth. 

“Nah, I’ve been here for two fucking hours and no one has told me how she’s doing yet! I’m going to see my girlfriend if you want to throw me out after then throw me out!”

I’ll never forget that voice. Terry is here. Now. He bursts into my room looking as good as ever but incredibly worried. When his eyes land on mine his shoulders sag with relief and he rushes to my side.

“What happened?! How bad are you hurt? Were you wearing your helmet?” He asks, his mouth running a mile a minute. I must be dreaming there’s no way Terry’s here we broke up 3 months ago after he came back from Shelby Springs. 

He came back different after trying to bail his cousin Mike out of jail. I tried to be there for him and provide all the support he needed but he just pushed me away. When I found out that he had been helping a girl named Summer, he completely shut down and wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to give him an ultimatum so I told him that when he figured everything out to come and find me. Two weeks later I got a letter that absolutely broke me. 

“Why did they call you?” I asked looking at my doctor.

“He’s listed as the primary on your emergency contact list we have on file here”, she said motioning someone else in scrubs to come in. Another woman comes in holding an ultrasound machine and my heart stops.

“Is my baby ok?!” I ask immediately grasping at my stomach. 

“That’s why I needed to wake you. Ms. Daniels, we need your consent to do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can evaluate the status of your baby”, the doctor says remaining calm. 

I nod, “Of course, please do what you need to do”.

There’s a deep sigh to my right. I almost forgot that Terry was next to me. When I glance over at him he looks shocked and heartbroken. 

“I’m sorry I know I should’ve told you but you sent that letter the day I took the test and I didn’t know what to do”, I said right before the waterworks started, courtesy of your pregnancy hormones. Terry just looked at me his eyes softening but his trademark frown was still there. 

“Can you give us a minute please?” Terry asks the doctor.

She nods, “We’ll be right outside tap the door twice. We need to get this ultrasound done so the faster the better you two.” Then she’s out the door.

“So the baby’s mine?” Terry asks.

I nod my head, a fresh wave of tears coming. 

“I never meant to keep from you this long but you weren’t returning my calls and I couldn’t reach you. You didn’t leave a return address on the letters you sent, which ripped me apart by the way, and you just fell off the face of the earth Terry! I mean come the fuck on! I’m in love with you and finding out I’m having your baby just for you to dump us over a fucking letter!”, I’m out of breath, my chest heaving with anger.

He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “We don’t have the time to get into this now. We’ll talk later now please let the doctor in, I need this baby to be ok”, I say my eyes burning with unshed tears. Jesus everything makes me so emotional now, well let’s be real it wasn’t that different before I got pregnant. Terry looks at me, his eyes softening to that doe-eyed steel gray.

“Sure thing princess,” he says with a small smirk. Terry gets up and I bite my lip at the way his ass looks in his khakis. Has he gotten finer since I last saw him? He taps the door twice and almost immediately the nurse is back in the door, the doctor following in shortly after.  They set up all the equipment, I put my feet in the stirrups, and the doctor began her exam. 

“Aaaaand that is your baby’s heartbeat!”, the doctor says as she points to the disfigured blob that’s my baby.

“Terry look!” I say as I point my finger toward the screen. 

I turn my head to the right and I see a small smile on Terry’s face.

“That’s our baby?” he says all choked up. Two small tears fall out of each eye as he looks down at me. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” I say reaching for Terry’s hand.

He grabs it and says, “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Home? Like my home or he’s just taking me to my house and that’s my home. 

“How did the hospital even get in touch with you?”, I ask as Terry drives us home. 

“I just got a new phone, same number,” he says eyes focused on the road.

“Oh, ok,” I say folding my arms across my chest.

“I already know what you’re thinking. I was going to call you, but a lot of what I have to say shouldn’t be said over the phone. I want a chance to explain myself. I never should’ve ended things the way I did. You deserve so much better than what I gave you and I can’t be any more clear when I say I’m so sorry. I fucked up.” 

“Ok when we get home I want to know everything”, I say gently. Terry looks my way and nods twice before looking back at the road. 

“Yeah, can I get two double cheeseburgers all the way with cajun fries please?” Terry says to the ‘five guys’ employee.

“Aww, you remember my order?” I say my face softening. 

“It’s been three months. Not three years. I didn’t forget baby” Terry huffed looking at me with that sexy-ass side-eye. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m supposed to be mad at you,” I say rolling my eyes. There’s no way this man has me in the palm of his hand in an hour and a half. I need to stand the fuck up. Terry grabs our food when they call our number and escorts us out of the restaurant.

He chuckles as we get back in the car and says, “Oh it’ll come back to you I’m sure.” I roll my eyes, looking at the scenery passing by. 

“You said ‘I can’t do this anymore Gwen. It’s not you it’s me.’ Terry, you have no fucking idea how much that hurt. How insignificant it made me feel. Like I wasn’t even good enough to break up in person so you use a fucking letter?” These pregnancy hormones are no joke I was thinking about mounting this man and now I’m going off on him. 

“Babygirl I’m so sorry. Please, when we get home I’ll finally be able to explain myself. Please don’t cry, baby I never meant to hurt you the way that I did. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“I made my peace with this a long time ago Terry. Some people just aren’t meant to be together,” my voice breaks as I try to keep my emotions at bay. 

“I wanted us to work so bad I would’ve done anything to keep you, but I won’t do that anymore. I’m worth more than that. Our baby is worth more than that. I won’t have them question my love for them I’m going to show up for them every day because that’s what a mother does,” I take a few deep breaths to try and compose myself, but I can feel the dam start to break. I look over at Terry and he has a deep frown on his face. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and I can tell by his posture that he’s trying to keep his cool.

I unlock my front door to let Terry and myself in. He follows silently behind me. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves. Despite how he feels right now he still pulls out everything I need to eat and sets my place at the table. I wait for him to join me before I start eating. We eat in a tense, awkward silence before he breaks the spell of uncertainty around us.

“Mike’s dead.” I didn’t have to look up to see the pain on Terry’s face. The burning behind my eyes is instant.

“What do you mean dead? You were going to bail him out?!” I reached for my necklace. It’s a locket, Terry gave me after our first anniversary. A small heart-shaped photo of us sits inches from my heart every day. Terry took a deep breath before he went into detail. About Shelby Springs and its corrupt law system. How he almost died on multiple occasions. Who Summer was and how he couldn’t leave her fate in their corrupt hands. 

“I couldn’t leave until I knew I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I couldn’t involve you and potentially put you at risk. I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt, especially knowing what I know now,” the guilt evident in Terry’s voice as he buried his head in his hands. 

I feel the warmth of the tears as they glide down my face. My hand comes up to cover my mouth to stifle a sob. I rush to Terry’s side, wrapping my arms around him. 

“I’m so sorry Terry! You shouldn’t have had to deal with this all on your own. What can I do?” 

This whole situation is miscommunication at its finest. I grab Terry’s hand and lead him back to the room we used to share.

“I didn’t bring you back here to have sex. Take your shoes and shirt off and get on the bed.” I say kicking my shoes off. I crawl to the head of the bed and make myself comfortable before making grabby hands at Terry.  He crawled his way up the bed before laying his head on my stomach. I started giving him a scalp massage as he loaded everything he’d gone through while we were apart. When he finished we were both a mess. Terry lifts his head and my heart breaks at his expression. 

“I never wanted any of this. All I tried to do was save my cousin and instead, I lost him. I lost you, our baby. I’m alone now.”

I’m shaking my head before he can finish his sentence, “You didn’t lose Mike. In the physical sense yes but, he’s always with you Terry. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can put this behind you and move on. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this.”

“Together?” he looks like a scared sad little boy and it breaks my heart. I reach my hand down and caress his face. 

“Together Terry, all three of us,” you say as a fresh wave of tears begins. You were going to dehydrate at this rate with all the crying.

“Come on, we’ve had a busy day and I think a shower would do us some good,” you say sitting up. Terry sits up and scoots to the foot of the bed. I look at him and really notice how tired he looks. Like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders.

I make my way towards him and kiss his cheek, “Come on, your clothes are right where you left them. I’ll be in the bathroom when you’re ready.”

I grab one of Terry’s old ‘Marine’ t-shirts and boy shorts and head into the bathroom. I can’t believe this shit, no way this is real life. Poor Mike, poor Terry, and even poor Summer. 

I���m in the shower washing the dirt and leaves out of my hair when I hear the bathroom door open. I keep quiet continuing to wash my hair waiting for Terry to join me. I feel the cool air as he opens the shower door and steps inside. His arms wrap around my waist from behind and he rests his head on my shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry Gwen. You’re not unlovable. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I couldn’t come back unless I knew you were safe. I’ll be making this right for the rest of my life to you and our little bean,” Terry says as his hand migrates to my stomach. 

I turn in his arms wrapping my hands around his neck, “I’m not going to pretend that I’m ok with how you did everything but, I understand. I forgive you, Terry.  I did as soon as you burst through the hospital door,” I finish with a chuckle. 

Terry grips my face in his hands, “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you and the baby how sorry I am. I wasn’t there when you found out and you have no idea how bad I wish I were. Every doctor’s appointment I’m there, you’ll never feel how you felt when you got that letter, Gwen. That’s a promise.” Terry’s eyes have that fierce determination in them. You know when he gets that way there’s no stopping him.

“Stop crying baby, I hate seeing you so upset,” Terry’s using his thumbs to wipe my tears. 

I shake my head, a watery laugh leaving my lips, “It’s hormones more than anything.” My eyes widen as Terry drops to his knees in the shower. His hands wrap around my hips. He presses his forehead to my belly and kisses the barely-there baby bump.

“Hey there little one. I’m your dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to find out about you. I’m here now. Daddy’s not going anywhere.” 

I could barely see Terry over the tears in my eyes. A watery smile forms on my lips when Terry lifts his head to look at me.

“What is it, baby?” he asks.

“Kiss me,” I say pulling him up to meet me.

Terry towers over me pressing my back against the shower wall—nothing but steam and unspoken confessions hanging in the air. 

“Are you sure, princess? I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for”, Terry’s face takes on that deep frown that’s so attractive to me.

“I’m sure Terry. You’re still in the doghouse but, that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you and I want us to be a family, so yes please kiss me.”

When Terry kisses me it’s like the world stops. An involuntary moan leaves my lips. It’s like we have all the time in the world. He kisses me slowly, deeply, all-consuming. 

“I forgot how good your lips feel, princess.” Terry’s eyes darken in color and I can almost read his mind. 

“I’m going to kiss you again ok?”, a small smirk makes its way onto his face as he crowds my space. 

“You’re not leaving any room for Jesus are you?” I ask chuckling.

“There’s been too much space between us the past three months. Prepare to be sick of me, baby girl.” Terry’s voice drops an octave and I can feel my ovaries crying. His hand glides down my front pausing over my barely-there baby bump.

“We’re going to be great parents,” I reach my hand for Terry’s face caressing his cheek. 

He smiles that megawatt smile of his and nods, “Without a doubt.” And then he kisses me again.  We’re a mess of lips, tongues, and teeth. My pregnancy hormones have me grinding against Terry’s leg like a dog in heat. 

“You missed Daddy huh?”, he asks placing his thigh in between my legs. He grabs my hips and slides me up and down the length of his thigh. The friction on my neglected clit is out of this world as I release a needy moan. 

“I can’t hear you. Do I need to stop?” Terry grips my hips forcing me to stop.

“No, no, no I miss you, Daddy! I do. Please don’t stop. I need this,” I grip his shoulders, leaving little crescent indents.

“Look at me, sweet girl. Tell Daddy what you want,” Terry says gripping my chin and lifting it to meet his eyes. 

I can barely put two words together and he wants me to tell him what I want. 

“I love it when your eyes get all dopey like this, you want Daddy inside you?” Terry’s lapping at my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I’ll have a time with my concealer in the morning but that’s not my concern at the moment. I reach for his wrist, bringing his hand down to my pussy, right where I want him. 

“Please Daddy I need you. I need this please,” my voice taking on a whiny pitch. Next thing I know the water’s being shut off and Terry’s opening the shower door. 

“There are things I want to do to you that can’t be done in the shower. Come on,” Terry says while wrapping me up in a towel before leading me out of the bathroom. 

“Ugh! Daddy don’t stop please!” My legs won’t stop shaking as Terry sucks the soul out of me. I lost count of how many times I’ve come already. I look down at Terry while he’s devouring my pussy. The sounds in this room are purely pornographic. 

He looks up at me through hooded eyes and moans the sound vibrating against my clit. 

“Ouuu Daddy yes!! Right there! Don’t stop!”, I’m a panting mess. I look down at Terry again and all I see are the whites of his eyes. 

“I forgot how good you taste baby. I can’t get enough mm!” You’d think Terry never ate a day in his life the way he’s eating me out.

“Terry I… I need you!” I squeal pushing his head away.  

He releases my clit with a small pop before sitting up on his knees. His eyes narrowed, “Now I’ll let you have that one ‘cause it’s been so long. Don’t do that shit again. I’ll finish eating when I finish. Understand?” Terry has my face in a vice-grip, my lips puckered.

“Yes Daddy,” I say, willing to do whatever he asks as long as he gives me that dick. I’d probably go rob a bank if he asked. 

“On your side, princess,” Terry says as he places a few pillows behind me.

I turn on my side and Terry’s right behind me kissing any skin he can get his hands on. 

“Fuck, I missed this. I missed your smell, your taste, your smile, your laugh, and even when you roll your eyes. Even though you know that’s five lashes automatically,” Terry says peppering my whole body in kisses. 

“I missed you too Daddy. Now are you going to show me how much, or do I have to get started without you?” I tease him by running my hands down my body. Terry playfully smacks my hands away before lifting my leg and sliding into me. 

We moan simultaneously as Terry starts to move, “Oh god! I forgot how big you are!” I moan as Terry bottoms out.  

My head falls back onto Terry’s shoulder, “I’m not going to last!” I squeal the burning already starting in my lower belly. It feels so good from this angle, Terry keeps hitting my g-spot with every thrust. 

“Come whenever you want baby. Daddy’s got you,” Terry breathes into my ear. The neighbors can probably hear squelching and moaning coming from my room but I really don’t give a fuck. If their man was digging their shit out like Terry was doing to me, they’d be screaming too. 

“No! Come with me please! I need it baby!” I moan trying to plant a kiss somewhere on Terry. He sees me struggling and bends his head to kiss me. He grabs my neck with one of is free hands, not hard enough to do harm but, just enough to give me that much more pleasure. 

“Open,” he says stilling inside me. I lean my head back a little farther, opening my mouth. Terry smiles deviously like the freaky devil he is and I watched dazed as a small glob of spit makes its way from his mouth to mine.

“Now swallow,” I do as he asks and open my mouth to show him it’s all gone.  

“Jesus, woman you’re going to kill me! Fucking love how nasty you get for me. Daddy’s little slut,” Terry groans. He slides out of me and I flop onto my back. 

“Come to mama,” I say grabbing his face and pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. I reach for his dick, wrapping my hands around it, and I feel him shudder. Terry moans as I give him a few slow strokes. 

“Get back inside me please. I need to come,” I wine.

“Again? Who made you so needy?” Terry asks smirking down at me. 

“You going to keep talking shit or remind me of how I got pregnant in the first place?” I ask. 

Terry grabs my throat almost instantly, “Who you think you’re talking to?”

He brings one of my legs up to his shoulder and I roll my eyes. Terry’s face darkens, as he bottoms out inside me for the second time.

“I told you I was going to let that shit slide. Now you pushing it,” he said as he begins to thrust. I’m grasping at air, that’s how good his dick is. 

“Aww look at you, getting fucked stupid. How’s it feel princess?” Terry taunts grabbing one of my hands interlocking our fingers. If I could talk I probably say something smart, but Terry’s right he’s fucking me stupid. I can’t put a single sentence together. 

“Huh what was that? Daddy can’t hear you.” A particularly hard thrust has me screaming, my orgasm hitting me out of nowhere. I feel myself soak the sheet and Terry, but I can barely keep my eyes open. My nails drag down his back, marking him up.

“Fuck baby I’m cumming, kiss me,” Terry moans. 

I grab the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine, but before our lips meet I whisper a quiet ‘I love you’. Our lips meet and we both moan as Terry fills me up. He stays inside me as I remove my leg from his shoulder. Both of us panting and staring at each other with awestruck goofy smiles. We have some work to do, but I can’t wait to see what this next chapter has in store for us.

THE END.

Annnnd that’s a wrap!! As always constructive criticism is appreciated but please be nice ‘cause I’m sensitive. I feel like I'm so bad at writing sex scenes, but I'm trying to get better. I really had fun writing this one. I anyone has any request DM me or ask anonymously. Until next time my little freaks <3

TAGLIST:

@blackgurlnhermoods

@dxddykenn

@kianaleani

@pinkkycherrish

@shallipii

@greatpandagladiator

@skyesthebomb

@theereina

Divider from: @puppizai

[familyvideostevie]

man. okay.

i'm writing this because community remains the most important thing. the communities you are a part of nourish you. they take care of you, they teach you, they help keep you safe. individualism is an incredibly easy trap to fall into when you are scared. it is, in many ways, the easier path. it is, in my opinion, a huge part of why the united states has ended up here, and dragged the rest of the world with it.

i could go on and on about the obvious. the consequences, the darkness ahead, the unimaginable losses we will incur. i believe, firmly and exhaustively, that there is good, still. there is good because i am good. there is good because you are good. i am determined to keep that alive, even if the despair knows no bounds.

lastly, i want to say that this blog will remain, for me, a place to store my hopes. i don't say escape on purpose, because while in many ways fandom and tumblr and fanfiction and all the rest is a distraction from reality, everything i love and create comes from my desires for the world. i wish it to be full of compassion and limitless hope and love. that is what i am always writing about.

so. come hang out with me whenever, however you'd like. you are welcome here. in my real life, believe that i continue to be an active part of my community and fight with the privileges i have against fascism and tyranny. if you ever want to talk about that, message me. i don't know what happens next. but fuck it if I'm not going down swinging.

i love you.

[cheesecakeloverr]

THE MORNING AFTER

hamzahthefantastic x reader

‎𐰁𖦹°⋆ When you wake up after a night out in a strangers bed, the two of you desperately try and figure out the events of that night, and how you ended up in his bed.

———————-

I stir in bed, awakening to a headache that pierces my skull. I shift in the covers lazily, snuggling into the warmth of them as cool air filtered the room.

Just as I’m near the the point of drifting back to sleep, I feel an arm drape over me. I sit upright immediately in shock, my eyes wide as they land across a dark curly haired man, who seems cosy in bed beside me. My mind begins racing, my heart beating uncontrollably fast as I stare at him, extremely confused, realising he was shirtless.

My eyes tear away from him, to the room surrounding me, and my jaw gapes wide open, as the room looking back at me wasn’t mine. The question running through my head, was how the fuck did i end up here, in this house, in this man’s bed?

Suddenly, the man in bed starts to stir, his eyes opening blearily as he wipes his curls away from his eyes, yawning softly, completely unaware.

That is, until his eyes adjust to the morning light peering through the window, and his expression becomes bewildered, stumbling out of the bed, wrapping the covers around his exposed body.

“Why are you in my bed? Who are you?” He exclaimed, his eyes widening as they scanned over me.

“I don’t know! I don’t even know who you are, or why I’m here, or.. even where the fuck I am!” I nervously ramble, my head in my hands as I avoid eye contact with him, my cheeks flushing pink.

He tilts his head as he continues to look me up and down with wide eyes, making me all the more flustered as i realised my attire, and the lack of clothes covering me.

“I was hoping that you’d be able to fill me in on what happened last night too” he asks, his breathing slowing down as he began to calm himself.

“My head is fucking killing me, and all I even vaguely remember is that one of my friends invited me to this party last night..” I recall, sitting down on the edge of his bed as I try and remember more of the previous night.

He slowly nods his head as you speak, smirking slightly as he gets a good look at you in your underwear.

“You and me both, this hangover isn’t fun”He responds, scratching the back of his head as he groans, feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before still.

“Any more details coming back to you?”

I sigh, frustrated, until I get an idea.

“Wait, your phone. Where is it?” I ask frantically, thoughts and ideas flooding my mind.

He chuckles at my eagerness to be on his phone, clearly amused by it. He stretches to grab his phone that was charging on the beside table, handing it to me.

“There you go” he smiles, sitting down on the bed beside me, leaning back.

“Did you take any pictures last night, or post anything?” I question, giving the phone back to him so he could enter his passcode, my fingers dancing against his as I do, causing my heart rate to go up just that little bit faster.

He leaned in close to me, his muscular build now almost touching mine, grinning as he watched me fidget with my fingers as he enters the passcode. He opens up his photos, scrolling through photos and videos from the night before.

“I got a few, yeah” he mentions, scrolling through the dozens he had saved.

“Show me” i whisper, almost scared to look, just incase, as I lean closer to him, peering over his shoulder to face the small phone.

He snickers at how close I’ve gotten, obviously liking having my body practically pressed against his. He opens up one of the videos, showing a clip of me and him, clearly drunk, dancing together in the middle of the table.

I groan, running my hands through my hair as my cheeks flush bright pink, embarrassment overcoming me at my past, drunken self.

“Just.. skip to the next one” i cringe, hearing my past drunken self singing through the speaker.

He chuckles at my embarrassed state, thoroughly enjoying my reaction. He skips to the next video, where we see a video of me and him standing next to each other, and I’m clearly trying to balance myself on his much larger frame as i struggle to stand up straight.

I can faintly hear the sound of my girlish giggling over the music, making me feel like vomiting due to how much desperation leaked off of me.

He continues to scroll through the videos for a little while longer, showing us both in various compromising positions on the couch, floor, bathroom, even the kitchen. He smirks to himself as i become more flustered, before finally returning to the main camera roll.

“Well” he grinned, turning to face me, our faces merely inches apart.

“That explains a lot”

“Remind me never to go out ever again and keep myself locked up in my house forever” i groan, rubbing my eyes intensely until I begin seeing stars.

He laughs gently at my dramatic exclamation, as he reaches his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear, enjoying how flustered i looked.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, trust me, we were both just as bad as each other” he sighs, leaning back again his bed once again.

A silence fills the air between us, not awkward, just comfortable as our minds race with different thoughts, and confusing conversations.

We both turn to each other, at the same time, speaking over one another.

“I don’t eve-“

“Listen I’m-“

We both pause, laughing slightly, until he motions his head towards me, and i go first.

“I don’t even know your name..” I admit, wondering if he ever told me it to begin with.

He chuckles as i admit that i don’t know his name, clearly amused by it.

“it’s Hamzah” he replies casually, before smirking.

“And what’s yours? other than the pretty girl that stumbled into my bed last night?”

Blush covers my face before I can help it, and I smile sheepishly. “It’s y/n. You’re so shameless” i laugh, slapping his arm lightly as he chuckles, his curls falling into his dark eyes.

He grins in response to my shyness, clearly enjoying my reaction to his shameless flirting.

He looks down at my arms as i slap his, taking my wrists in his hands, his fingers almost completely circling my arms.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered” he teases, knowing how to get a rise out of me at this point. How I wish I was sober enough to remember last night..

I freeze, memories from last night flooding my head as my heart begins to panic, beating faster and faster.

“I should probably, uh, leave. Get out of here, you know..” i say awkwardly, standing up from the warm spot on the bed beside him, and looking around the room for my discarded clothes, evidence of our interaction last night.

I’d never gotten this close with someone before, and certainly not a man I had met the night before. It was surreal, how easy it was to talk to him, but I knew I needed to slow down.

He watches me as i stand up from the bed, his dark eyes trailing all over my body, shamelessly appreciating the view. He lets out a light sigh, not making an effort to stop me.

“Yeah.. probably should”

He mumbles, also standing up, the sheets falling from around his waist to the floor, revealing his muscular bare torso, causing my heart to drop to my stomach, as was forced to peel my eyes away.

I grab the wrinkled clothes, throwing them on me, as I tug my shoes on. A part of me wished he wanted me to stay, but at this point, I’d felt as though I’d overstayed my welcome, and was sadly prepared to never see this man again, no matter how much I would yearn for it.

He stands there, in nothing but low hung sweatpants, watching me throw on my clothes, his muscular chest on full display, showing his broad shoulders and defined collarbone.

He notices my slightly flustered expression as i look up at him. He grins, clearly enjoying the way i was staring at him, before speaking up again.

“You really in a hurry to leave, sweetheart?”

“I’ll get out of your hair, stop bothering you. Just give me-“ i huff, struggling to get my shoe on.

These fucking converse would be the death of me.

He chuckles at my frustration, watching me struggle with putting on my shoe, still half naked as his strong arms cross over his broad chest. He watches me carefully for a moment as i struggle, before stepping forward.

“Let me help you, silly”

He grins, moving to kneel down in front of me, grabbing my foot gently and guiding it into the shoe.

I sigh, pink creeping in my cheeks as he got to his knees in front of me.

“Thank you, Hamzah.” I spoke, tasting his name on my tongue, and enjoying the way it felt.

He smiled to himself as i said his name, clearly enjoying how i sounded when i said it, evident by the expression on his face.

He finished helping me put on my shoe, gently setting my foot back down on the floor. He looked up at me from his knelt position, peering up at me with a sly grin, his face now even closer to my body than before. He slowly got up, bringing me with him, as we both stood facing each other.

“No problem” He replied, his hands finding their way to my hips, his calloused palms settling on the skin beneath my cropped shirt, as I began to feel as though I might melt under his touch.

I softly gasp, a little breathless, as his fingers dance their way further up my shirt, leaving a trail of fire as they did.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, causing us to fly apart, my skin cooling as his touch departs.

He groans, rolling his eyes as the doorbell rings, a look of annoyance crossing his face.

“Stay here. I know who that is. I’ll be right back” He mutters.

He quickly disappears out of the room, heading for the front door.

I’m still stunned from our interaction, but I follow him, not listening to his commands. I needed to see who was at the door. Who interrupted our moment..

He strides hurriedly down the hall towards the front door, still in nothing but his low-hung sweatpants.

After opening the door, and then promptly slamming it shut, he lets out a frustrated sigh, turning to head back to his room to get a shirt, but stops in his tracks when he sees me following behind him.

“I told you to stay in my room” He says, his eyes brows furrowing as his brown eyes glance over me, my dishevelled state.

“Obviously I’m not gonna do that, be real. Whose at the door?” I question, my voice unwavering as I roll my eyes.

He rolls his eyes in response.

“It’s my stupid friend, Martin. He’s probably just here to gloat at me about getting with a girl last night too” he shakes his head, rubbing his hands over his face briefly.

Relief floods from me, whether i wanted it to or not.

He sighs as he says this, seemingly annoyed by the idea of his friend coming over just to rub another hookup in his face.

“I’ll uh, get to going then..” i mutter, avoiding his eyes as I fix my short shirt on my body awkwardly. I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable between him and his friend, and I knew I was outstaying my welcome.

The.. interaction we just had, was maybe just that. An interaction.

He stands in front of me, looking down into my eyes. He could tell that i was a mixture of frustrated and disappointed from his friend interrupting us both, and he felt the same way.

He reaches a hand up to brush my hair behind my ear, just like how he did earlier.

“I’ll walk you out” he mumbles, unlocking the door.

I let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding, and when he swings the door open, and his friend sees us, he smirks.

He groans at the sight of his friend’s smirk, knowing exactly what his expression was for.

His friend’s eyes dart to me as he looks me up and down, clearly taking in how i was dressed in last night’s clothes.

His grin widens as he notices my flustered expression.

Hamzah grabs my wrist, his touch enlightening me, and slides us past his friend, who enters Hamzahs apartment nonchalantly, slamming the door behind him.

Any more slams, and that door would be knocked off its hinges.

His friend lets out a chuckle that’s heard through the other side of the door, as Hamzah drags me out of the apartment quickly, obviously aware that he was annoyed with his friend’s presence, and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He keeps a firm grip on my wrist as he pulls me outside, letting out a sigh once we’re outside and away from his friend.

I sigh, looking around at the exterior of the apartment building, and recognising it. “I can walk back to my place from here..”

He pauses for a moment, letting my wrist slip from his grip. He looks down at me, his face showing he was feeling frustrated by the fact that he knew this was the end of things, and that I was about to leave.

“Are you sure? it’s kind of late. you shouldn’t walk on your own”

I smile, giggling. “It’s 11am, Hamzah.” I remind him, the daylight shining on us in the cold autumnal air.

He groans, facepalming himself at his own stupidity, causing me to let out a small chuckle, appreciating how he cared for me, however small it was, before running his hand over his face, the reality of the situation finally setting in.

He looks down at me again, his dark eyes searching mine, desperately trying to look for an excuse to keep me there longer.

The silence between us is unfathomable, and I can’t take it anymore.

“I’ll maybe see you around Hamzah.” I finally speak, breaking the tension between us, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver, his arms not there to keep me warm anymore.

Hamzah watches me wrap my arms around myself, taking notice of the light shiver that passes through me. He sighs.

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime” He mutters bitterly, knowing it’s a lie the second the words leave his teeth.

I gently lean in, kissing him on the cheek, my warm lips on his cold face, as I smile, my heart heavy in my chest, and turn away from him, walking away.

As I take those steps, I can feel the weight of what just happened lingering in the air. It was brief, yet somehow profound, like a fleeting moment that leaves a mark.

I felt as though I had a connection with him, one that just wasn’t made too last. It was a moment, that I enjoyed, and appreciated in all its glory. But once a moment passes, you must let it move on.

I glance back, my eyes locking on his, catching a glimpse of his small, subtly sad smile, a reminder of the connection we shared, however little it was.

There's a bittersweet taste in my mouth, a mix of nostalgia and the realization that sometimes, moments are meant to be just that—moments.

———————-

He watches you walk farther away, his mind spinning in circles. He stands there on the sidewalk, his head swimming with a concoction of thoughts and emotions.

He couldn’t figure out why he was so reluctant to let you go, why he felt his heart ache in his chest watching you walk away.

He wanted to run up to you, to grab your hand and tug you back towards him, but just as quickly as the thought appeared in his head, it vanished.

Gone, not just for now, but for forever.

———————-

[sharpth1ng]

Ive already posted this in my server, so you may see it twice, but In case you don't see it there im posting it here too.

Im assuming most of you have seen the news about the us election. Honestly im feeling nothing less than devastated, and i would assume Americans are feeling ten times worse. Im so fucking sorry to you all, and I know that doesn't help at all. I feel angry, hopeless, and sad as fuck, and i dont know how to comfort anyone or advocate for the hope i think we deserve.

What I can do is remind you all who you come from.

Women, queer people, disabled people, indigenous people, black people, new immigrants- anyone who experiences marginalization- we have been through this before. Many times. So many lives have been unjustly lost and our rights have been trampled on over and over, and we shouldnt have to be dealing with any of that still in 2024. It feels insane that im even having to write this post right now.

But even with that crushing history, repeating itself over and over, we haven't been silenced. If anything we've gotten louder. We've been having mainstream conversations about oppression and liberation in the past few years that were completely undiscussed when I was a kid. The vocal support for trans people alone, even with the rise of transphobia, is unprecedented.

None of this is meant to tell you that it's alright, or that it's not that bad, because it is that bad. But what I'm telling you is that its been this bad before, only this time we're louder than we ever have been before and we'll be louder still next time. There are more of us than there ever have been before, and if they couldn't take us all out when there were fewer of us they wont manage it this time.

There were drag shows happening in gay bars when it was still illegal to be gay at all. There were Natives preserving language and knowledge out of residential schools, and black people inventing whole new types of art and resistance while they were still being actively enslaved, and those are just a few examples. The point is that we dont stop, we never have. We will keep making art, finding love, and joy, being fucking loud and fighting for each other.

It's ok to hurt, to be angry and scared. Let yourself feel all of those things because its the only rational response to this.

But don't let it shut you down. Your history is one of resilience, survival, and compassion. We're so much more than the oppression we face and we always have been.

Reach out to the people you love and tell them you fucking love them. Make plans to see them. Gather with your community and organize to support each other, find ways to protect each other, and above all else don't stop looking for joy. Don't stop making art. Don't stop showing compassion.

Solidarity is the most important thing we have right now, so don't give up on it.

I don't know how to close this message really, but i want to repeat I'm not telling you to have hope, I'm not telling you it's not so bad. What I am telling you is that you're stronger than you think. You come from strength, you come from people who faced odd that seemed insurmountable so that you could be here today.

If they couldn't take us out before they wont succeed now. We're only going to get louder, angrier and stronger. And when the tide swings back in the other direction, like it always has in the past, they better be fucking grateful that most of us will be fighting for equality instead of revenge.

[soars22]

Hey, so.

This sucks. Like, really, genuinely sucks. The only thing keeping me from a full blown panic attack is denial and my weighted blanked; I’m sure I’ll get there eventually.

I don’t… really understand how this has happened. I don’t. Truly. But it did and now we-we have to keep living. Even though this sucks. Even though we’re scared and feeling hopeless and a million other anxiety inducing things.

We still voted. It still mattered. No matter what happens next, we still have that.

Like, I’m not going to lie to you, I’m fucking terrified. I’m trans, I’m queer, I’m neurodivergent-I’m everything that the monster we voted in wants to hide away and destroy.

I. Am. Not. Going. To. Let. Him.

I’m right the fuck HERE, motherfucker. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to keep on existing and fuck anyone who says differently. I’m going to keep LIVING and breathing and existing and working towards a better life because, really, what the fuck else can I do? What can any of us do except survive?

It’s not over. The election? Maybe. Our lives and the difference we can make? That’s still fully on the table.

Right now, you might be scared and that’s so ok. So am I. And for the moment, I’m going to let myself be. I’m going to hide under my weighted blanket and miss my family and my cat and maybe play some stardew to just disconnect for a bit but then I’m going to get up and keep living.

He wants us to give up. He wants us to be scared. He wants us to not fight back, to let him win.

I know that we’re scared, but we cannot let that happen. Live out of spite if you have to, but fucking live, ok? Focus on the small wins and the little battles if you can’t quite tackle the big. Focus on yourself if you can’t focus on the world.

And when you’re ready, look into the eyes of everyone who wants you dead and live.

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

I cannot do wild wednesday today. I am fucking devastated over the news of the election. I woke up to the news and immediately had a panic attack. I am scared, I am furious and above all else, I am frustrated. I'm so afraid for what these next 4 years mean for me as a queer woman. I'm afraid for my community and the future of my partner and myself. I just cannot fathom what has happened. I need some time.

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature what's that sound? Ah yes, it's the sound of Luca seething about his stupid mistakes...it's bliss😌🥰.

I was there enjoying Luca getting told of by his mum for the billionth time 😂. I loved the scene you set with the descriptions of him sat chewing his tooth pick among the destruction he'd caused.

We’ll get her back.” “No, you won’t. Thomas isn’t going to let her out of his sight now.”But why is he still not listening? Hasn't he learnt his lesson yet? Listen to ya mama you fool! He's so smug to think he'll ever get that chance again. Mrs Changretta was right, if he wanted to cause unimaginable pain to Tommy, he should have taken Lucy out straight away. Good thing he's an idiot and didn't listen, because I can't have Lucy leaving Tommy alone in the world. I don't even want to imagine the depths of despair he'd reach if that ever happened 😭.

Ok, my weakness will always be seeing Tommy completely broken, but it's also animals. Asher's reaction to seeing Lucy was...💔. The fur baby just wanted to cuddle up to his mum and make her feel better, but I fear that even his body against hers would be enough to cause poor Lucy excruciating pain.

You really captured Tommy's heartache during this scene we've these little lines... Ada rested a hand on his upper arm while he bowed his head. “I don’t know what kind of permanent damage that might’ve done.”-"she looked at his hand still clasped tightly in Lucy’s. It's like the life's being sucked out of him as he watches Lucy sleep, he can't bare it 😔.

“I can’t stay here.” I can’t watch you love someone else. Oh Lizzie, would you please shut the fuck up. I don't care if she didn't say it, she thought it. Which means, she still doesn't give a shit about everything that's happend and is STILL thinking about herself. Please, can she stay in that little house so we never have to deal with her snotty remarks again??

I don't think I was quite prepared to see Lucy so weak, so fragile and scared in the next scene. I've seen glimpses of her doubtung herself, battling with her lack in confidence, but the following scenes were she's zoning in and out, thrashing half asleep during her nightmares was unbearable to see 😔.

“What use am I to you now?” she forced herself to ask in a hoarse whisper. Tommy’s eyes widened, scooting closer to her. I'm seriously so dumb that I didn't realise how being in that position for multiple days on end would effect the nerves in your arms. This honestly scared me for Lucy, not because I don't think she'll be able to maybe recover but because of what it will do to her already fragile mind. She's always someone that needs to have something to do, and this is only going to create more unease in her that she's no longer useful to Tommy, no matter what he says.

But he's right, she's more than an assassin. She has an incredibly sharp mind. I think it will take her time to realise that she might not be able to do the things she once could if it comes to that.

The part where she had her nightmare and how Tommy grounded her was so powerful to read, I loved every second of it. It's a tip I've used during my own panic attacks, I wouldn't be surprised if it's something Tommy has learnt to do over the years when his own anxiety and PTSD takes a turn.

You’re a good nurse.”- His chest buzzed pleasantly against her ear with a quiet chuckle. “You’re high as a kite, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.” ❤️ aww, I couldn't help but smile at this little part. Even though she may have been up with the fairies, I really think Tommy needed that playful normality from her before he too lost it to the horrors of Lucy's physical and mental state.

He had hardly left her side for the last week. Even getting him to let her use to loo on her own had taken a significant amount of convincing. Stop 😭! I knew he'd be velcroed to her 🥰.

Tommy's care and affection towards her is top tier right now👌🏼. He's so mindful about everything ❤️. But this scene is at the boxing match....which means, shits about to hit the fan...again 😳😬. And it also means that Tommy's attentions are gonna be drawn to Arthur and what's about to happen to him. She better not be left alone, not for one second!

Excited to see what happens, and see how Lucy continues to recover from everything. Eek 😍!

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy begins the long recovery from what Luca did to her, while the Shelbys prepare for Bonnie's boxing match.

Word Count: 5,254

Notes: Warnings for depictions of PTSD, injuries, chronic pain, and references to torture.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 26: Lost Forever

Audrey entered Luca’s room to find it in complete disarray. The papers that he kept spread across his desk were all over the floor, chairs and tables overturned in the sitting room, a lamp smashed on the thin rug, along with the shattered remains of crystal glasses and a decanter filled with amber liquid.  

Her eyes swept over the scene of destruction, lips pursing. 

When Matteo came to her lodgings, eyes wide and begging her to please come at once, she had almost sent him away. She probably would have, had it been anyone else asking for her help. She was the matriarch of the Changretta family, and she answered the summons of no one. 

“Luca,” she said, stepping deeper into the room, towards where he was seated on the couch, staring straight ahead, gnawing so hard on the toothpick wedged between his teeth that she thought he might splinter it in half. Glass crunched under her heels.

She lowered herself into the seat beside him, keeping her back straight, watching her son scrutinizingly. 

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer her, and Audrey bristled. 

“When your mother asks a question, you answer it, Luca.”

“She got away,” he growled, eyes still staring straight ahead. “She fucking got away.”

“Who?”

“The Red Demon. Lucy Winters.”

Audrey felt her stomach fall into her toes, though she did not let it show on her face. “How?”

Luca shook his head. “Shelby found her, we think. The fucking gardener was found this morning, laid out on the doorstep of one of our old businesses, with his throat cut and his eyes torn out.”

“The gardener talked? But I thought you had men protecting him…”

“Yeah. Two men who we can’t locate. They were last seen at a pub with Smith. They were probably drunk when the Peakys arrived. Didn’t stand a fucking chance. Not that anyone who was at the pub that night will tell us anything.”

Audrey cursed in Italian under her breath. “But you left guards with Winters.”

“They’re all dead.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. Shelby must have killed them all.”

“Or she did.”

Luca finally looked at her. “She was barely able to stay conscious when I left her. She’s cut up and beaten within an inch of her life. There’s no way that she–”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop underestimating her before you listen to me!?” With a sharp, controlled movement, she cuffed him around the back of the head like she used to when he was small. “If any of your men gave her so much as a sliver of an opportunity, I promise you that she took it.”

“And killed all of them?”

She looked around the room, a casualty of Luca’s wrath undoubtedly after he learned the news of Winters’s escape. Her mind wound back to when Lucy Winters first arrived in Small Heath. The stories that had soon began to follow her. “She’s done it before.” She turned her gaze back onto her son. “You should have just killed her when you had the chance.”

“We’ll get her back.”

“No, you won’t. Thomas isn’t going to let her out of his sight now.” Frustration mounted in her veins, making itself known through a venomous look thrown Luca’s way, shaking her head. “You had the opportunity of a lifetime. You had her in your clutches. Do you understand how profound of an effect her death would have had on Thomas? They say he went half mad with grief over his wife’s death. What do you think killing Winters would have done to him? It would have crippled him. Or we could have used her as a bargaining tool. Or bait. Something.” She stood, towering over him, her disappointment mounting with every passing moment. How could he have been so stupid!? “And you just wanted to play out some silly little revenge fantasy. Instead of actually using your victory to your advantage. Your father and I taught you better than that.”

“Isn’t that what this all is? Revenge, mother? I was paying her back for all the pain she’s caused. She was there when they tortured my father. She’s already killed more than a handful of our men. She deserved to know what it felt like. Besides, she’s not going to be much use to Shelby at all with how badly injured she is.”

Audrey shook her head. No use. He really thought that the woman who likely kept Thomas Shelby standing upright with her mere presence was of no use to him. “You have not listened to a single word that I’ve said, have you?”

Luca looked up at her, hurt cracking across his eyes. “I’ve done everything that you’ve told me to do.”

Head shaking back and forth, she went to the door.

“There’s the boxing match next week. We’ll strike a blow, then,” Luca called after her. 

“Better pray it’s a big one, then. Because you’re running out of time.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie pushed the door to the bedroom open with her fingertips, peering in to find Lucy asleep, curled on her side in bed, a quilt pulled up over her chest, bandages wrapped around what looked to be most of her body. Tommy was hunched over in a chair at her bedside, Lucy’s hand in his. Ada was standing next to him, her hand on his shoulder while she looked down at Lucy’s sleeping figure. 

“How is she?” she asked. Tommy cleared his throat, wetting his lips. 

“Her back is…shredded. He whipped her,” Lizzie saw his hand tighten where it rested against his knee. “He reopened all her scars from…” he paused as if unable to bring himself to actually say it out loud, “from what happened to her in London before she came to us.”

“Jesus,” Ada breathed, a hand going to her lips. 

“She took a bullet to her shoulder. I removed it. Cleaned and stitched her up. Gave her something for the pain and to help her sleep.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “She said that he bound her from the ceiling so that she was dangling with her arms above her head for days. I don’t…” he had to pause to get his voice under control. Ada rested a hand on his upper arm while he bowed his head. “I don’t know what kind of permanent damage that might’ve done.” 

“But she’s alive.”

“Yes,” he agreed, though there was something in his voice that seemed to indicate that he wasn’t wholly confident in that statement. 

“I’ll take Charlie for a few nights. He shouldn’t see her like this.”

“Thank you.” 

“And Polly and Arthur will deal with everything else for the time being. You don’t need to worry about it. There’s still Bonnie’s boxing match with Alfie’s boy, but…”

“Someone needs to call Alfie and tell him we found her.”

“Already done. He said to tell you that he’ll deal with the last few arrangements that need to be made for the fight.”

“Right.”

“Doctor Evans will be here within an hour.”

“Good.” Lizzie wondered if the doctor was going to be in for a good scolding for not coming right as soon as he was called.

There was the clack of nails against the hardwood floor in the hallway, and then Asher was squeezing around Lizzie’s legs, nosing open the slightly ajar door to wander into the bedroom. Bypassing both Tommy and Ada, he raised his head to sniff at Lucy’s face. His tail drooped, ears falling downwards as a small whine left his throat. Tommy reached out to stroke the dog’s back. 

“I know, boy. I know. She’s okay.”

Asher looked back at him, then to Lucy, whining again. Tommy drew him away gently.

“Let her sleep, Ash.”

The black shepherd let out another soft whine, laying down next to the bed with his head on his paws, his dark brown eyes fixed dutifully on Lucy, watching over her protectively.

“Do you need anything else?” Ada asked, hand smoothing up and down Tommy’s back.

“No.”

“Call me if you do. I’ll gather up Charlie and head home. I think Polly was planning on sleeping over in one of the spare rooms.” She stood. 

“Ada,” he called, mindful to still keep his voice quiet enough that he would not wake Lucy. She turned back to him. “Thank you.”

She gave him a tiny small and a quick nod, before going to the door. Her grave gaze met Lizzie’s, reaching out only to give her a squeeze to the arm before heading to the stairs, leaving her standing in the doorway alone. 

Hands ringing together, Lizzie turned back to the bedroom, taking a cautious step forward into the room. 

“Tommy?”

He started at the sound of her voice, head raising. His eyes looked red rimmed and tired. “What?”

She ignored the bite of hurt at his sharp tone, reminding herself that he’d had more than a trying couple of days. “I’m going to go home.” 

His gaze sharpened. “Luca knows where you live.”

“I know, but I don’t think he’ll come after me right now. And…” she looked at his hand still clasped tightly in Lucy’s. Her heart twisted and fractured in her chest. “I can’t stay here.” I can’t watch you love someone else.

Tommy’s eyes searched hers, and she swore that she saw a spark of guilt as he read what was likely obvious in her gaze. “Does your house have a spare room?”

Her annoyance flared. “You’d know if you actually came to visit.”

Tommy looked away, jaw tightening. She took a deep breath.

“Yes, it does.” Her voice was softer.

“Skudboat will be sleeping there until the vendetta is over. And I’ll have multiple armed guards watching the house at all times. Isiah will be re-vetting all of your staff too, before they come back to work.”

“Fine.”

“All right, then.”

That was clearly her cue to leave, but she hesitated, gaze shifting to the tiny figure curled up on the bed. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, voice hardly a whisper. Tommy’s shoulders heaved, and for a second she thought that he wouldn’t answer. 

“No. No, she won’t.” His voice was low and mournful, as if she had died and was gone forever rather than asleep right in front of him. A shiver went down Lizzie’s spine, looking in slight alarm at the woman who’d caused her so much emotional turmoil. 

Three days of brutal torture. That was enough to leave anyone scarred in and out for life. She wondered in what ways Lucy would be changed after this.

Chilled by the thought, Lizzie quickly made for the door.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Lucy.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting on the mattress on either side of her, eyes staring blankly at a spot on the floor. Tommy pushed the bedroom door closed with a click behind Doctor Evans, leaving Polly to escort him out while he came to sit down beside her. 

“Sweetheart?”

A choked off sob left her lips, hand flying to her mouth a second too late to try to contain it. 

“Hey,” he wrapped his arm around her carefully, pulling her into his side. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head furiously from side to side, turning her face to bury in his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Doctor Evans said that all those cuts will heal…”

Yes, to leave disgusting, raised scars in their wake. 

But that wasn’t even what was really bothering her. 

“My-my shoulders…” she managed to whimper out, and she felt Tommy tense a little against her. 

“He said with time and the right exercises, you might be able to minimize the long-term damage done to them…”

She shook her head. She’d seen the look in Doctor Evans’s eyes, same as he had. That much time spent with her arms positioned over her head, with her entire body weight dangling from them, had likely done catastrophic damage to the nerves. And yes, he may have given her a set of exercises and stretches to do once the inflammation went down and her cuts healed enough that she wouldn’t risk reopening them, but she had seen it in his face. It would never be the same again. Her range of motion in them would be permanently impacted, and she’d likely have pains in them for the remainder of her life. 

“I can’t…I might not be able to…” Why couldn’t she just get the bloody words out? Was she really so useless now that she couldn’t even speak? “What use am I to you now?” she forced herself to ask in a hoarse whisper. Tommy’s eyes widened, scooting closer to her.

“What do you mean?”

Her mind tumbled over itself with all the potential implications that her injuries could have. “What if I can’t fight anymore? Or the pain gets so bad I can barely function? What if I can’t do my job? Or…or…or…” her chest started to spasm, cinching hard and closing off her ability to speak, sobs and harsh gasps rattling in her lungs. 

“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy…” Tommy gathered her up in her arms, pulling her in close to his chest. “Shh,” he started to rock her from side to side, hand cradling the back of her skull protectively. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” There was so much confidence in his voice that she was in danger of actually believing him. “I’ll take care of you. If you need physical accommodations for anything, we’ll sort them out, all right?”

“But–”

“Love, you’re useful for far more than just swinging fists.” Tommy tried to reassure, leaning back to smooth away her tears with his thumbs, cradling her face in his big palms. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. There’s nothing that could ever make me toss you aside, okay?” His lips brushed against her forehead. “All you need to focus on is healing and resting, eh?”

She swallowed, nodding shakily, taking a deep breath to try to steady herself. Gaze fixing with Tommy’s, she let the deep blue of his eyes ground her, reminding her that she was safe and looked after. Tommy gave her a small, reassuring smile. 

“Good girl. C’mere.” He guided her gently into laying back down on the bed on her side, and she felt a pulse of fondness at the way he immediately began fussing over her. Fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets up to her chin. “What do you need? Are you hungry? I think Ada or Polly made soup, if you want some.” He stood at her bedside, ready to jump at any request she might give him. 

“Could you just come lay with me for a bit?”

His eyes softened, nodding and climbing in under the blankets next to her. He rested his arm lightly around her waist, taking care not to touch her back or jostle her bandages.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, cheeks warming at her little meltdown and how frantic and irrational she probably had seemed.

“Oh, sweetheart, no. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”  

Resting her hand on his forearm, Lucy rubbed her thumb back and forth against the soft material of his undershirt. He had changed into just a white Henley identical to the one he gave her to pull over her bandages, and a pair of trousers.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t find you sooner,” he said, thumb stroking her cheekbone. 

She shook her head. “I know that you did the best you could.” Adjusting herself, she stifled a wince at accidentally placing too much pressure on her bruised ribs. There wasn’t really any part of her that she could lay on without any discomfort, but being on her side was significantly better than being on her back. “How did you find me?”

“Our boys found Lizzie’s gardener who sold you out. His name was Paul Smith. Xavier Smith’s father. You remember Xavier Smith, right?”

Ah, that explained why the old man gave her up, then. “Yes.”

“I got him to talk.”

“How?”

He looked down. She inched her face closer to his in encouragement, until their noses almost brushed. 

“I pulled out both his eyes.” The way that he looked at her suggested that he expected her to recoil in horror, but she did no such thing, hardly even blinking at the revelation.  

“Is he still alive?”

A tiny, half sheepish smile crossed Tommy’s lips. “No. Not unless he can live with his head nearly sawed off.”

“You did that for me?” she asked, eyes wide.  

“Of course,” Tommy said, as if there had never been any question in his mind that he would. “I had to find you.”

She put her head on his chest, weak arms looping around his middle. He rested his palms on her gingerly, careful not to pull at her bandages when he held her.

“Try to get some more rest.”

“When’s the fight between Bonnie and Goliath?”

“In a week.”

“I want to come.”

He drew back to look at her worriedly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to overdo it.”

“I’m sure. I…” biting her lip, she glanced towards the window, then back at him. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He looked her up and down. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” she put her head on his chest, blinking slowly as exhaustion took hold of her once more. Tommy’s hand continued to pet at her hair. 

“Get some sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And he was, when she woke but only a few short hours later, screaming. 

Her brain was fogged over with panic, hands scratching and scrabbling, legs kicking to try to fight off the monsters that moments ago she had been certain were surrounding her.

“Lucy! Lucy!” 

Her eyes darted around the room madly, searching for any signs of Luca looming in the dark corners, wicked grin pulling at the corners of his lips as he prepared to elicit more pain onto her.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

A hand rested lightly on her shoulder, and she thrashed violently, crying out, swatting with flailing hands. 

“Get off of me!” she screamed, trying to scramble away. He was here. He was here and he was going to hurt her again unless she managed to get away…

“Lucy.” Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, keeping her from rolling away. She tried to kick out, one foot colliding hard with the wall to her left with a bang. “It’s me. It’s me. Come here. Come here.”

Her breaths were coming out in fast, frantic little bursts, eyes bulging in their sockets. 

“Deep breaths,” the voice behind her commanded, and she felt a stockily built chest rise as its owner’s lungs filled with oxygen, then slowly lower as he let the breath out. “Match my breathing, come on.”

Her mind finally managed to catch up with what was going on around her, or at least enough that she was able to recognize that the voice rumbling her ear very much was not the hissing murmur that belonged to Luca Changretta. 

Her lungs stuttered, then almost unconsciously started to match the deep rise and falls of Tommy’s chest against her. 

“That’s my girl,” he said, at her growing still. “Do you see the pictures on the wall?”

She had to squint to make them out in the darkness, but across from the bed she found the painting of a horse standing in a forest, the leaves changing colors with the seasons and fluttering to the grass that the mare was grazing upon in a layer of reds, oranges, and yellows.

Tommy’s cheek was resting against hers, his breath warm against her ear. She could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest when he spoke again. 

“The items on the nightstand?”

Her gaze cast over. To the little lamp. A half filled glass of whiskey. An ashtray dusted with black ash, with too many cigarette butts to count smashed in its center.

“Uh huh.”

“He doesn’t have you anymore.” She felt Tommy relax as he felt the tension in her start to slip away. “You’re safe,” his lips just barely ghosted across her temple. “You’re safe, Lucy. There you go.” 

Certain that she was actually lucid and calmed, he loosened his grip on her, pulling away slightly to flick on the lamp, washing the entire room in its dull, golden glow. Lucy cringed and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. 

Sinking down into the mattress, she drew her arms up to her chest, tremors starting to wrack through her body, eyes welling with tears. Her back connected with the bed, and she sharply jerked away from it with a yelp. 

Whether it was that action that caused the following hurricane of pain, or just what drew her mind’s attention to it, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t entirely matter, the result was the same. She was suddenly deeply aware of just how much everything hurt.                 

It was howling within her, her wounds screaming and muscles aching. Her back once more felt as though it had been set ablaze. Her split skin throbbed. Her shoulders hurt so badly it sent sparks of white flaring across her eyes. 

A sob left her lips, twitching as though she might be able to wriggle away from the pain. But moving only made everything worse. 

“Luce?” And then Tommy was there, leaning over her with wide, worried eyes. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

“H-hurts…” she barely could get the word out, but it was enough. Tommy shot up, reaching for the nightstand, pulling from the drawer the bottle of morphine that the doctor had left for her, along with a prescription for more if she needed it. He snatched up the glass of whiskey, downing the remaining of the amber liquid, then pouring a small amount of her medicine into the glass. 

“Drink this,” he held it to her lips. The morphine was cold as it touched her tongue and slid down her throat. “Come here,” setting the glass aside, he reached out for her, smoothing his hand along the side of her face. “Look at me. Focus on my voice. Just give it a few minutes love, hm? You’ll be okay.”

Just as he said, it took only a few minutes, and the pain was dulled, her eyes starting to feel heavy again. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, sniffing. Tommy shook his head. 

“It’s okay.”

With a sigh, she let her head rest on his chest. “‘M a fucking mess,” she lamented sorrowfully. 

“No, honey. No, you’re not. You’re just recovering. It’s alright. I gotcha.” He put his arms around her. “Light on or off?”

“Off.” It was too bright with it on. She felt his muscles flex against her as he reached over to flick it off. “You’re a good nurse.”

His chest buzzed pleasantly against her ear with a quiet chuckle. “You’re high as a kite, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have to stay.” She desperately wanted him to, but she didn’t want him to feel like he had to continue to stick around and gather up the pieces every time she fell apart. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d be waking up screaming and thrashing from nightmares probably for the foreseeable future. He was probably exhausted. He needed to rest too. “I’ll probably keep waking you up…”

“Good.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “I want you to wake me up every time that you need something.”

Her lips pouted with the desire to cry again at how nice he was being towards her. She stroked her fingers lazily across his chest, feeling how warm and strong he was; reassuring herself that she was probably as safe as was realistically possible when in the circle of his arms. 

His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up to look into his. “I love you, Lucy,” he kissed her softly, lips soft as a pillow against hers. Tears filled her eyes.

“I love you too.”

He smiled at her gently, placing another kiss between her brows. “Sleep,” he said, and encouraged her to snuggle back down into his chest. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy stared at her reflection in the mirror in the washroom, hands gripping either side of the sink’s basin, knuckles white, lip caught between her teeth. Glassy, dead green eyes looked back at her, their judgment harsh and sharp. 

God, she looked fucking awful.

The bruises on her face had faded into unflattering shades of purple, green, and yellow. Her skin was sickly, eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the rest of her. She looked like she had been patchworked back together, like a blanket with dozens of holes in it that had been mended with other various scraps of fabric. Or maybe like a crude attempt at dressing up like Frankenstein’s monster. 

She knew that the other women–Polly, Ada, Linda, and Lizzie–had all planned to get dolled up in elegant, beaded dresses and expensive jewels and furs for the occasion of Bonnie’s boxing match. There was no way that she could go out like that. The best she would be able to do was dress in layers that would prevent her bandages from getting disturbed too much, and hope that she could hide most of the bruises on her face with makeup. 

Tugging at the white button down and trousers she had already pulled on earlier with Tommy’s help, she frowned, pulling her belt a few notches tighter to cinch more securely around her waist. After three days of being fed only tiny scraps of bread, she had lost weight. Also probably not helped by the fact that she’d barely had the appetite to eat anything save for small servings of chicken noodle soup for most of the past week.  

Leaning closer to the mirror, she dabbed a little more makeup over a bruise on her cheekbone, trying hard not to wince at the way that the movement pulled tightly at her shoulders. 

She did not realize just how much she raised her arms up over her head until she was practically unable to. She couldn’t even grab her favorite mug from the cupboard because it was on a high shelf.                  

A soft knock sounded at the door. “You okay in there, love?” Tommy’s voice called. Lucy sighed, rubbing at her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Be out in a second.”

He had hardly left her side for the last week. Even getting him to let her use to loo on her own had taken a significant amount of convincing. But she appreciated the worry. Frankly the idea of not being close to him was enough to have her teetering on the edge of a panic attack. 

Wiping her hands on a towel, she looked herself up and down one last time in the mirror, sighing and determining that this was probably about as good as she was going to be able to manage at the moment. 

When she stepped out into the hall, it was to find Tommy leaning against the opposite wall, turning a cigarette over and over between his fingers anxiously. He straightened when he saw her, wedging the cigarette between his lips and holding out a hand to help usher her back into the bedroom. 

Her fingers fiddled together as she stepped towards the bed, picking up her waistcoat and shoving her arms through the holes, thankful that it buttoned in the front so she wouldn’t have to raise her arms to get it on. Tommy approached her, reaching out to do up the buttons for her, then helping her into her matching suit jacket and coat. 

It felt strange to be in her normal clothes after over a week spent in bed in little more than one of Tommy’s shirts. Not exactly a bad strange, though. It would probably do her good to return to a routine.

Tommy smiled down at her, brushing a fallen curl back behind her ear. “Ready?”

“I look like shit.”

His brows pulled together, thrusting out a hand for her to take so he could draw her closer to him, head angling down to kiss her. “You look beautiful. C’mon.”

His fingers squeezed around hers as he led the way down the stairs and to the door. The fresh air, no matter how smoky, felt good on her cheeks after so many days spent cooped up inside. 

“You know, you don’t have to come if you aren’t feeling up to it. I’m sure Ada would be happy to stay with you,” Tommy said as they walked. His gait was noticeably slower than usual, to make sure that she wouldn’t struggle to keep up. 

Lucy shook her head. The idea of not being with him left her feeling panicky. 

“I want to stay with you.”

“Okay,” he didn’t question her. “But you let me know if you’re in pain. Or if you need to go home.”

“Okay.”

Once they got to the boxing ring, she stood at his side, keeping her cap on despite them being indoors, her head angled down to let the shadows it cast partially hide the bruises on her face. Her arms looped through his, hoping that it looked more like she was just lingering close to him as she so often did, and not because she needed to lean on him for stability. The shouts of men and the crush of bodies crowded together seemed louder and more overwhelming than usual. But that may have been because she was pretty sure that if someone jostled into her too hard, she would tip over.

Just before the first round started, Tommy drew her away, his grip firm to help support her as they weaved through the tight maze of hallways that made up the backrooms.

“I thought it would be good for us to sit somewhere quiet for a minute,” he explained, guiding her to a bench in one of the locker rooms. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” she took the cigarette that he offered her, leaning into his side when he sat down beside her. He gingerly wrapped his arm around her, resting the side of his head against her hair. 

Her physical ailments aside, what unnerved her the most was her mind. That feeling of numbness and desolation that had overtaken her the day that Tommy brought her home had not abated. Had not even eased at all, really. 

Was this what her mind was to be like, now? Aching and constantly overstimulated? Both simultaneously feeling everything and nothing? 

She did not want to live like that.

“Lucy?” Tommy asked, thumb stroking her shoulder through the material of her coat.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she blurted out. It really meant a lot; she knew that she wasn’t particularly fun to be around right now, and with the thousands of other things he had to worry about, that he’d chosen to prioritize her was no small thing.

“Love, you don’t have to thank me for that. It’s what we do.”

She allowed herself a small smile at that, despite the unending anxiety that plagued her; that feeling that there was yet another piece of her that had died in that church. A part of her that was lost forever. 

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[playbarbies]

this grief is unlike anything i’ve ever experienced before. i had a major breakdown at 3AM, and i think most people would have thought someone died with how agonized the cries were. but something did die. democracy died. hope died. my faith in my country died. as a disabled queer jew with a reproductive system, i have never been so terrified, both for myself and those i care about, and so disappointed. to my fellow americans, i am so sorry, and i am here for you. my IM’s are open if you need/want to talk. i love you all, please try and do nice things and silly distractions for yourself today. take care of yourself as best you can, and i’m here for you always.

[aibouart]

compilation of my other fav palette challenges from the years past... i should do them again sometime......

chara #9 belongs to @askbookwormflareon

[cosmicdenro]

u guys should know a crow is friends with me now....... smiles

[running-in-the-dark]

it's been a month since we moved into the new apartment -

I'm so stressed. everything is stressful. we're still not done building the kitchen but it's getting there (slowly). mostly we just need to wait until we get a couple parts that weren't in stock when we ordered the rest. I'm hoping it'll be done by next weekend.

some of it is very frustrating with my brain specifically. I'm so bothered by all the tiny little things that no one else would even notice - like, some of the handles on the drawers are very slightly crooked (as in, less than a millimeter higher on one side) - but for me it's so obvious that it's impossible to ignore. my husband didn't even know what I meant when I pointed it out to him. there's also been a few slightly bigger issues, but we've solved them now (I think).

my eye has been twitching for like three to four weeks. not all the time obviously, but every few minutes. it's very, very annoying.

we still have no new info about when we'll have internet finally. it could take a while still.

on Monday a guy has to replace something in the electric roller shutters in one room - but we don't know which one yet. so either I'll have to let him into my room (awful, uncomfortable, will have to tidy up tomorrow so he could even get to the window), or I'll have to get both our cats into their carrier if it's the one in my husband's room (awful, difficult, one of them doesn't like that so he'll be scared and I'll feel bad).

also on Monday the electrician will install our stove (if he has time). then we're getting two ikea deliveries. and I've got an appointment with my (new) GP because I need a prescription, and I'm very (verrry) nervous about it.

I miss watching TV. I miss tumblr and YouTube and messaging my friends whenever I want and sending them photos all the time. I miss order and structure and (some level of) routine. I miss using real cutlery (we still haven't found ours lol).

when I was finally starting to get used to the noises in this place, the family above us moved in with their baby that cries all the time very very loudly and most of the time right above my room. so now everything is different again and I'm not adjusting well and once again I can't sleep.

but, I've listened to 14 audiobooks since we moved! that's been nice. it was the same way when we moved the last time (just over a year ago..). my favourite by far was The Thursday Murder Club. I've got the other ones in the series but I'm trying not to listen to them too quickly, so I'm gonna listen to three other books first (one is done already, so I should get there on Monday or Tuesday hopefully).

[gonersgoners]

remember when i said over a year ago that vegapunk's arc would start revealing even more of sanji's power and potential and how hard that was worrying me? yeah

[orcelito]

Actually we r at 6 months now without any major deaths in my life, which is great! That's the longest I've gone without any major deaths since last May! The second longest was 4 months between July and November last year. Wow !

[princessmyriad]

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