#that right after a pretty heavy therapy session was Not Great

[nikothebookdragon]

when you just get out of therapy but something happens that IMMEDIATELY makes you want to go back

[varicoseveinstreatmentmumbai]

5 Things You Need to Know About Laser Treatment for Varicose Veins

Have you ever looked down at your legs and noticed those twisted, bulging veins? 

Those are varicose veins, and you're not alone if they're bothering you. 

Many people, both men and women, deal with these, and they can make you feel pretty uncomfortable, maybe even self-conscious about showing your legs.

But here's some good news: there's a modern way to tackle them, and it's called laser treatment for varicose veins. 

Let me walk you through five key things you should know about this innovative procedure.

1. What is laser treatment for varicose veins? 

This laser treatment, formally known as endovenous laser therapy (EVLT), offers you a way to say goodbye to those annoying veins with minimal hassle.

Here's the lowdown: A powerful laser beam targets the problematic vein. This makes the vein close up, reducing its swollen look. 

Then, your blood starts flowing through healthier veins. 

The result? 

Your legs start feeling and looking better as those varicose veins begin to fade away.

2. How does laser treatment work? 

First off, your varicose veins doctor will numb the area around your vein, so you don’t feel much during the procedure. 

They make a tiny cut and slide a small laser fiber into the vein. 

They know exactly where to place it, thanks to ultrasound – a tool that gives them a clear view inside your leg.

Once the fiber is perfectly positioned, it emits laser energy, heating up the vein. This causes the vein to collapse and seal shut. 

Over time, your body naturally takes care of this closed vein, smoothing out your skin and diminishing the appearance of the varicose veins.

3. What are the benefits of laser treatment?

Laser treatment for varicose veins offers several advantages over traditional surgical methods:

It's minimally invasive, meaning no large incisions or stitches are needed.

This approach results in minimal scarring and a more comfortable recovery experience.

The treatment can be performed as an outpatient procedure, allowing you to return home the same day.

There's a high success rate, with many patients experiencing significant improvement after just one session.

Laser treatment for varicose veins stands out as a highly effective, convenient, and less disruptive alternative to traditional surgical approaches. 

However, it's essential to consult with a qualified varicose veins doctor to determine the best treatment plan for your specific situation.

4. Wondering If Laser Treatment Is Right for You?

If you've got varicose veins, laser treatment might be a great option. 

But it’s important to talk to a varicose veins doctor who specializes in this area. 

They’ll look at your veins, consider your overall health, and check factors like whether you’re pregnant, your weight, or if you have a history of blood clots.

The best step is to consult with a varicose veins specialist. 

They’re the experts and can guide you through understanding if laser treatment is the best path for your specific case.

5. What is the recovery process like?

One of the biggest benefits of laser treatment is the quick recovery time. 

After the procedure, you'll need to wear special compression stockings. These help with healing and lower the risk of blood clots.

You'll likely be able to get back to your normal life pretty fast. Just take it easy and avoid heavy exercise for a bit. 

Regular check-ins with your doctor are important to make sure you're healing well.

To read more:

[likeswallowstosea]

“Is it? Now I’m offended on your behalf.” Ches tsked with a grin, surely Anya’s friends outside of work remembered to hype her up occasionally, right? If they weren’t supportive, were they even truly her friends? Maybe that was something to bring up to Jamie the next time she saw him, see if he’d noticed any comments on those lines as well. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown; you can radiate greatness and exhaustion simultaneously, I’m afraid. I’d offer to make you a coffee, but it’s not my office and I know that’d be overstepping.” Plus, there were probably rules about making your therapist coffee during your therapy session. While Anya seemed to try her best to roll with what Ches threw at her, there were still boundaries. At the end of the day, Anya wasn’t her friend. She was just someone doing their job. Sure, there was a certain degree of care involved in her career but it was a job at the end of the day. She glances over to Anya, her head tilting slightly as she examines her therapist closely. Was she actually alright though? It was that time of year. A lot of people struggled around the holidays, there was no way Anya’s workload hadn’t gotten more stressful and that was before you factored in her own issues. “Promise to let me know if you need a break?” She asked. Maybe she doubted Anya would actually tell the truth in this situation, but it was worth a try. In the worst case, she’d catch her therapist in a lie, and it’d be another thing to whisper about with Jamie later. “Again, I know it’s your job but… it’s okay to be tired sometimes.” If only she’d take her own advice on that one, but no - this wasn’t the time of year she was allowed to slow down. And so, she takes a deep breath, glancing over to the clock again. Of course she had to ask her what Elliot would think about the text. “He’d worry, even if he doesn’t say it at the moment, and I wouldn’t want him to do that. I’d understand it. It’s natural, worrying about someone you love - especially worrying about them when they’re doing something you deem alarming - but I’d still wish that he wasn’t concerned.” Ches was thinking the words as she said them, but they were true. If the roles were reversed she’d be concerned too at the suggestion of skipping therapy to get Chinese food and watch movies, especially at a time where it was obvious that Elliot wasn’t having the easiest time in the world. And she lets out a sigh when she realizes Anya has a point, she’d be putting him under a more unnecessary stress if she texted him right now; especially if he found out she’d been trying to skip therapy to avoid discussing the holidays.

She’d just have to text him after the session about the chinese food. Maybe upgrade the idea to a blanket fort, chinese take out, and movies. They hadn’t even started, and yet laying on the floor in a blanket fort sounded good about right now. She glances down at it again, letting out another deep sigh of longing as she reminds herself she wasn’t supposed to sit on it in therapy session. “He’d let me sit on the floor though, and that would be really nice about now.” Okay, not a productive comment but it was true. There was something uncomfortable about doing stuff like this in a chair, talking about her feelings, what was going on, addressing the issue the stack of dbt sheets she’d brought clearly indicated she was having. Maybe open communication was something she and Elliot were still working at, but at least they had figured out hard conversations were easier from the comfort of the floor. She raises an eyebrow when Anya lets her in on that little therapist’s 'secret,' like it was ever actually a secret. “That’s already in my notes.” There’s no mirth left in her eyes as she glances over to Anya, a surprisingly serious expression on her face as she examines the woman for a few moments. “I’d ask how much you were willing to bet, but I’m pretty sure gambling in therapy sessions is frowned upon. Would make them a bit more fun though, $500 Ches isn’t eager to discuss her family or trauma after the holidays, am I right?” She rolls her eyes, a bitter laugh slipping out of her lips as she turned and opened up her bag. She reaches inside, pulling out what a pretty decent sized stack before offering it to Anya. “The ‘too long didn’t read’ is I should have convinced Elliot that we should have just invited our siblings over and skipped dinner with my father and the bitch. You’re welcome. I know there's shorter books out there then this so the summary is probably helpful.”

"Your eminence, that's a new one," Anya said, an amused smile tugging at her lips as she closed the door after Ches. She hardly could get a generic starting question out before Ches launched into what Anya could only assume to be projection. "Tired?" She asked as she sat down. "And here I thought I was radiating with renown greatness," she lightly teased. It amused Anya, how she morphed her own persona from client to client. It wasn't like she was trying to be anyone else, as her core traits still remained in tact... calm, mellow, perhaps slightly aloof. But she learned quickly that Ches likely wouldn't stay engaged without at least a little harmless back and forth jest. Did Anya sometimes wish Ches would take her treatment just a bit more seriously? Being human, of course - because she cared for Ches just as she did for all of her clients. Even so, she knew better to expect a tactic of completely stoicism blank wall, essentially stripping herself of any personality, would help any matters. And it wasn't like Anya took it personally, when Ches would make every excuse to try to get out of talking about something or talking at all as she was already making an escape plan within the first five minutes. Anya was well aware how difficult this work was, and all she could do was be a consistent support for her if and when she was ready to talk candidly. "I'm alright though, Ches," she assured after her remark. Except it wasn't like Ches was wrong - it was a hard time of year, and not to mention, Anya was just chronically tired. No amount of self care seemed to change that, but she was still trying to remember to fuel herself outside of the office so that she could have a full battery for her clients. Anya didn't have to follow Ches' gaze to know she was looking up at the clock. Whether it was to calculate the remaining time of the session or to ground herself with the little pictures of the birds, Anya wasn't quite sure of - until Ches spoke again. "I promise you don't have to worry about me," she said, a just a bit firmer than her last assurance for her well being. Realistically, Anya couldn't force Ches to stay. If any client at any time decided to get up and walk out the door, she may try to convince them to talk about why they had that urge, but at the end of the day, the choice was always there's. It was their time - if that meant spending the hour talking about the most distressing parts of their week, their newest unlocked achievement in a video game, or nothing at all and leaving, Anya knew better than to think she could force them in any which way. Her only hope was that she could nudge or guide them in a direction that felt more productive and relevant to them and what could be helpful. If they wanted to trap their feet in concrete, though - Anya couldn't stop them... she just had to do her best to try to bit by bit chip away at their own cages.

"Alright, say you were to send that text," Anya started, willing to humor the hypothetical just for a moment. "How do you think Elliot would respond?" Based on what she knew about Elliot from Ches, it didn't take much thought to conclude that he probably wouldn't consider skipping therapy as much as a nonchalant and no big deal thing as Ches seemed to be making it out to be. Would he agree with the plan? Likely - but probably only to keep from upsetting Ches even further. Anya's goal also wasn't to guilt Ches into therapy - ideally the only person who she should be getting approval from was herself, but there were a lot of winding, treacherous paths before they could reach that destination. Until then, it couldn't hurt to remind Ches of the people in her life that loved and cared about her, even -- especially, when she lost sight of those goals herself. Just coming out and saying all of that, and that she believed Elliot would probably be upset out of concern, would have only put Ches on the defense or piled unnecessary guilt and responsibility on her. Like most things, it was better to give a slight push in the direction, and let Ches work through those sort of thoughts herself. God, if she had a nickle for every time a client tried to convince her something wasn't that important... "Ches, can I let you in on a little therapist's secret?" She asked, an ever so slight smile creeping back on her features. "When someone tells us something isn't that important, our immediate response, even if it's internal, is 'huh, there must be something really important there' .... now yes, sometimes that could be wrong, there's outliers in every statistic as you know... I'm willing to bet this isn't one of them, though."

[youare-mysonshine]

heavy || bucky barnes

Summary: reader’s mental health has been taking a decline and bucky is there.

Requested: No

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: talks of mental health, depression, anxiety, angst, cussing.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back I guess lmao. I’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately and I guess I kinda just wanted to put it into words, something productive? And I’ve been feeling our angsty emo boy bucky barnes. Most of you might’ve followed me for my Oscar fics but I kinda wanna branch out and I thought this would be a good time to do so. Anyways, I know that some of you have inboxed me or messaged me and I haven’t responded and I’m sorry. But I just want you all to know that if you’re struggling, I’m always here to talk. About anything, always. So, I hope you enjoy this. I might’ve cried while writing this lmao and I also might’ve ended it on such an awkward place but, i’m still getting used to writing again. (Flashbacks are in italics)

————

Bucky didn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. He didn’t miss the way you sort of slouched as you approached him. He didn’t miss the way that your smile didn’t really meet your eyes.

“Hey,” You said in a breathless voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got held up.” You said as you took a seat across from him in the booth. Held up. It was better than telling him that you were thinking of just not showing up at all. In the end, you knew that you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just blow off your new friend who you had so enjoyed spending time with. So, in a rush, you got dressed and made your way to the small, quiet diner that you two had taken to frequenting together. Bucky Barnes was an enigma if you’d ever met one. The way that you had met was rather.. cliche and something straight from a story.

You had been trying to lay off of the caffeine for a while, realizing that you had nearly gone through an entire packet of 32 k-pods that you had just purchased. You realized that you might’ve had a problem. You had been going pretty strong with staying away from caffeine for the time being, until you passed by a coffee shop and got a whiff of coffee. You just couldn’t help yourself; you bought a cup of coffee. It was when you were walking down the street, holding the cup of coffee in one hand, looking down, that you didn’t see someone walking right in your path. You had collided into what seemed like a solid wall and the impact had caused you to squeeze the cup of coffee in surprise, the warm liquid burning your hand, staining your clothes and the other person. You had realized it was another person you had crashed into when you heard them let out a low cuss.

Bucky’s grumpy self had been fully prepared to tell you off for crashing into him, having just left his therapist’s office, but when you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours, a million apologies spilling from your lips a mile a minute, he swallowed whatever harsh words had nearly sprung forth. He had apologized as well; both of you had been at fault. Bucky had been going over his session with Dr. Raynor that morning, completely lost in his own mind, and you had your eyes trained on the ground, something that was a bad habit of yours. The shock of realizing you had bumped into a man, a really really handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen, had made you temporarily forget that you had practically scorched your hand with the coffee, and that you had gotten it on him as well.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You said once again, quickly averting your eyes from the handsome stranger’s face. Instead you focused on the smushed cup in your hand and the stains on his leather jacket. It just made you feel even terrible. “I, I can pay for you to get your jacket cleaned, if you want. Really. I wasn’t paying attention and I just, for whatever reason, squished my cup and.. I’m sorry.” You said, kind of breathlessly.

“It’s.. it’s alright.” His voice was like the coffee that you had been drinking. Smooth and rich. It was deep, something that reverberated deep in your chest and had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Really, it’s fine. And don’t worry about my jacket. No harm, no foul.” He said. “You should, uh, you should take care of that hand. Hope you didn’t burn yourself too bad.” He gestured to your hand, still clutching the cup, with one of his own gloved hands.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t that hot. Thank you, though. And again, I’m really, really sorry.” Sparing one, seemingly, last glance at the handsome stranger, you side stepped him and began to walk away, tossing the empty cup of coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk. But you didn’t get very far because that deep voice called out to you, halting you in your tracks.

“Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” Bucky’s mouth had opened and spoken the words long before his brain could even catch up. He didn’t know why he had asked you that, but something in his gut was just telling him too.

“What?” A look of total bewilderment had crossed your face and he had seen it.

“I just, well I thought that, since I bumped into you, I could make it up to you by buying you a new cup of coffee. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Bucky clarified, hand stuffed in his pocket, waiting for your answer. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, unsure of what to say because surely this wasn’t happening? The last time that you had gone out with a guy was.. well, shit, you didn’t even remember the last time. The little voice in the back of your head, that anxious, paranoid little voice, was telling you not to go off with a stranger. You’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds and other true crime shows and documentaries to know that situations like this never turned out well. However, you didn’t get a bad feeling from this particular man. He seemed just as awkward and slightly frazzled as you felt. So you agreed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

That had happened about two months ago. Ever since then, you and Bucky had formed a strong friendship. Your first time getting coffee with him had been awkward, as were the next few times that you had seen one another. But things got easier. Becoming friends was easy. You kind of fell into this routine, almost as if you two had known each other your whole lives. That was why Bucky telling you who he really was had been terrifying for him. He carried around guilt and shame and just contempt for everything he’d done. Everything The Winter Soldier represented, and when he told you, he figured that you would think the same. He had asked you meet him at the diner that had now become your spot and and you remember how he nervously wrung his gloved hands together. You remember when you asked him what was wrong and he didn’t verbally respond but he took off his gloves; the right one first and then the left, revealing a shiny black metal hand, golden lines intricately placed.

He told you then. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything but he told you who he was and he had braced himself for you to get up and storm out. Or, to yell at him and tell him how much of a monster he was. But, it never came. Instead, you reached out and placed your hand on top his. Not his real hand, but the metal one. You didn’t say anything. You just gave him that smile that was quickly becoming his favorite. Sometimes, silence spoke a thousand words. To Bucky, you had become kind of a respite for him. Even in the late nights or mornings when he woke up after a nightmare. Or after a particularly hard session with Dr. Raynor. He had closed himself off from other people except you.

Bucky might not have known it, but he gave you the same level of comfort as you gave him. You found yourself craving his presence. Every time you were around him, you couldn’t help but to smile or laugh. In the time that you spent together, your mind was clear and free from all your worries. It all evaporated into thin air. Your mind, usually so active with all sorts of thoughts and worries, could finally rest when you were with Bucky. You could sleep. You could get up in the morning without that stress and anxiety drowning you. It was okay. It was great.

Until it wasn’t.

“No problem, doll.” He said, gloved hands clasped under the table on his lap. “I already ordered. Got your usual. Hope that was alright.” He added, to which you nodded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Thanks Buck.” You said, mustering up a half hearted smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It was like even smiling drained the energy from you. You were exhausted. Not even just physically but mentally and emotionally. You had been having such good days for a while now, since meeting Bucky. You felt like maybe you would finally be alright but.. this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nothing was quite right, it was heavy. It weighed you down. It suffocated you. You wanted to be alone, but you also couldn’t stand to be alone because when you were alone, you were just stuck in your head and being in your head was the absolute worst place to be.

The intrusive thoughts had started. They told you that you would do nothing but weigh Bucky down. That he didn’t need someone like you in his life, someone with clear problems of their own, when he was going to therapy trying to better himself. Even if it had been mandatory for him to go. You wanted to push him away, save him from yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

Bucky noticed the shift in you. Normally when you two met up, whether it was at the diner or anywhere else, you would usually talk his ear off. Not that he minded, he was content to just sit back and listen to you. Sometimes, you’d tell him about a new book that you had started reading. You had just started reading the fifth Harry Potter book and you were trying to get him to read them. You’d tell him about your day. You’d ask him how his day went, how it went with Dr. Raynor, though you never pushed for more information. You always let him share if he was comfortable with it and he appreciated that. Sometimes you teased him for being such an old man.

The food came soon after you had arrived and sure enough, Bucky had ordered your usual. It sent a pang through your heart when you realized that he had memorized your order, down to the extra syrup and whipped cream on the pancakes. Bucky always liked to make fun of you for ordering the same thing when you came to the diner. No matter what time it was, you always ordered the pancakes with extra syrup and extra whip cream, with the strawberries on the side. Secretly, though he found it adorable.

Today, you had barely even taken more than a few bites and that was what really let Bucky know that something wasn’t right. You kept your head down, eyes on the pancakes and you cut them up, bringing a few up to your mouth and chewing slowly, but you mostly just moved them around your plate with the fork in your hand. Bucky himself had barely taken only a few bites of the food he’d ordered for himself, but it wasn’t for lack of appetite, it was because of the growing concern. His bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey, kind of like the clouds that you see during a heavy storm. His brows were furrowed, giving him an appearance almost as if he were angry.

“You alright, Y/N? You’ve barely eaten your food and normally you finish before I do.” He attempted to joke, to bring about that smile that seemed to always fill him with warmth. He half expected you to look up at him with that cheeky little smile, a mischievous look in your eyes and say “You know, I would be offended by that, but I know why you eat so slow, Buck. I completely understand. You don’t want your dentures to fall out.” But it never came.

You don’t know what it was. Bucky asking you if you were alright or if it was simply all the pressure of just.. everything, finally breaking, but you could feel the hot tears in your eyes. They blurred your vision until you couldn’t really see the plate of the pancakes in focus. The dam had finally come apart and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You set the fork down and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders lightly shaking as you began to cry. All Bucky could do was stare for a few seconds, alarm written all over his face. Alarm and distress because he had no idea what just happened and if he had done something to upset you.

“Woah woah, hey. Sweetheart, hey. What’s wrong?” In seconds, Bucky was out of his side of the booth and scooting in beside you. You felt the comfort of his warmth, you felt his arm tentatively, almost hesitantly, slide around your shoulders and anchor you to him. You shook your head, attempting to calm down, to stop the tears but the more you tried, the more they seemed to come.

“I-I’m sorry, Bucky.. I.. I’m sorry.. I-I’m fine. Really.” You said, sniffling. It was apparent to you both that you were not alright and he really just wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or at least attempt to comfort you. But doing that in the middle of a diner with other people around wasn’t ideal.

“Hey, my apartment is only a short walk away. Come on, let’s get you out of here and somewhere more quiet.” You didn’t protest. You just nodded and slid out of the booth after he did. Bucky took out his wallet and placed a few bills on the table, paying for the uneaten food, and then quickly led you out of the establishment. He kept his hand on you, almost like an anchor. Whether it was to reassure you or himself, he didn’t know and you didn’t mind either. It was probably the only thing that kept you from retreating inside of your mind and giving in to the panic that so desperately wanted out.

You didn’t even realize that you had reached his apartment until he had led you up the stairs and you were standing behind him as he unlocked the door. He allowed you to step in first and then quickly followed behind you, shutting the door as he did so. You didn’t really get the chance to take in his apartment because he had ushered you to sit on his couch while he knelt in front of you.

“Alright, you’re scarin’ me here, doll. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” The sheer look of concern and slight panic in his face and those pretty eyes of his made the waterworks come back again. You shook your head, your face scrunched up in anguish. Hot bullet tears fell from your eyes and left a wet path in their wake down your cheeks. Bucky wasn’t one to pry; he hated it when people tried to pry into his life and he didn’t do it to you, but he couldn’t stand the sight of seeing you cry. He couldn’t stand the sight of your once bright eyes and cheery smile just.. gone. You eyes were sad and your lips were pulled into a frown. “Talk to me, baby.” He practically pleaded.

“I just.. I don’t.. I don’t know how to explain it, Buck.” You cried. “I-I.. I just feel like..” You let out a frustrated cry when you couldn’t find the right words but Bucky was patient. He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears that kept falling. “I don’t feel.. happy. Everyday I wake up and I just, I feel fine for like a few seconds and then everything just comes crashing down on me. I can’t ever stop thinking. I can’t sleep at night. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this, Bucky. And I feel fucking crazy. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even really like me. I feel.. hopeless, like nothing is ever going to be okay. I might feel okay for a few seconds but then it just goes away.” You explained, though you were sure that you probably sounded like a raving and ranting lunatic. “Before I met you, I liked being alone but I also hated it because when I was alone, I would just overthink and overthink and overthink about every fucking thing. If it wasn’t one thing it was another just giving me such bad anxiety and.. I don’t know what to do anymore, Bucky. I’m just tired of feeling like this. Feeling like nothing is ever going to be okay, like I’m never going to be okay. I just feel.. alone.”

His heart was well and truly broken. In the two months that he’d known you, he hadn’t known how badly you had struggled with your mental health. He hadn’t known the war that you fought within your mind, and how bad it had become. You were such saving grace for Bucky; you saved him from the wars inside of his mind. The constant feeling of guilt that he fought with on a daily basis, and now.. he just wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to shoulder some of the pain that you carried, the pain that seemed to be weighing you down. Both of his hands now cupped your cheeks so delicately, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His blue eyes were shining, looking at you with not pity, but something like.. understanding. If anyone knew what you were feeling, it was Bucky.

“You’re not alone.” His smooth and rich voice was so soft, so gentle that it brought on a new set of tears. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore. You know why? Cause you got me.” He said. “I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. To feel stuck in your head. To feel like nothing is ever gonna get better. I felt like that in Wakanda. Sometimes.. sometimes, we need help. And I know I’m not one to be talking considering that I don’t really like talking to my therapist or even going,” That roused the smallest of smiles from you. “I’m here. You know that, right? I’m here. You got me and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t care if you have a million bad days. I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me. I’ll be there every time.” You two have gradually gravitated close to one another until your foreheads were pressed together. Bucky was still knelt in front of you on the couch, his hands still holding your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. The tears had stopped falling but you were still sniffling softly. “You’ve helped me. Even if you don’t know it. You’ve helped me.” He was whispering. There was no one but you two in his apartment but he was still whispering the words meant for only you to hear. “Now, let me help you. Please.”

“Okay. I trust you, Bucky.”

[prof-peach]

I know on your island you guys deal with a lot of pokemon from a lot of scenarios, but have you ever had to deal with ex-rocket pokemon? Either surrendered or found. Would there have to be a specific protocol for that, or safety measures?

Yeah we get a few that come to us each month, someone either hands them in, or we get them sent to us from other places that can’t handle them.

As for treatment we have to take each case sepratly, the local authorities send us poison, bug and grass types who need rehabilitation, usually it’s not too bad and we socialise them for a while. No people, just give them time to hang out with their own for a while. This can take anywhere up to a few months, just them and some other Pokemon kicking back and taking time out. We see a lot of Pokemon who didn’t get a chance to learn about their skills, their home, they never had a good family life, they often got torn from the wild and remember humans quite harshly. This time is key for them to settle into normal Pokemon behaviour. They are usually surrounded by others and can eventually pick up the right social queues and etiquettes, when they behave like the others, we start to introduce humans more, one member of staff will be assigned groups to care for, usually handling the rescues alone for the first few months, so the Pokemon being helped can get use to just one person at the start. Once that trust has grown, and they seem confortable, we introduce more members of staff. At this point it’s usually clear who will be rehomed fast, and who will need extra care, and we can divide up time appropriately. Recovery depends o the Pokemon in question, and what they’ve gone through. We’ve got patients with us that have stayed on the island for many years now due to relapses in behvaiour, if anything they’ve become part of our personal teams, part of the family, so I suppose they usually find a home one way or another. When possible we release those who are fit but otherwise uninterested in being a trained Pokemon, there are many release sites that the regional rangers oversee all around the world. Getting them home isn’t too hard luckily.

Because we have such a high population of bugs and grass Pokemon we just handle them more. They can find a group and settle here, without any outside interference.

On occasion we will personally choose to take on difficult cases, our lab is pretty hellbent on taking the Pokemon that are deemed “too far gone”, mostly because of the space we can offer them. Grey handles a lot of unruly water Pokemon, he has no fear of a Gyarados, doesn’t shy away from defensive Walrien or Carracosta, that’s just his area of love I guess? You have to love the work if you put yourself in the way of pretty big, pretty angry Pokemon, right?

Either way, we have our joy areas, and work with the odd species that can’t be otherwise helped by normal means. We use unorthodox methods, perhaps have too much patience, and tend to get really stuck into the work.

One case that’s a wonderful example was a dowdy little Salemance that came to us, had been shifted about by Rockets to fight in underground battle rings, it’s poor wings torn to shreds over the years, didn’t fly anymore, pretty sure the original trainer wanted it that way so it couldn’t just fly off. But it came to us so angry, and so violent towards anyone and anything, well I just about had it with the big idiot. Threw down with the dumb baby myself to put him in his pace once and for all. He was being outwardly nasty to everyone, snapped at everything. So I waited, and dodged, and ran, and hid until he had exhausted himself, and then used its bad vision against it and body slammed the little devil. He got tired trying to thrash me off, fell over and stayed there. Because I didn’t hurt him, I simply used his big dumb baby energy against him, he lost. Since then he was under me in the hierarchy, and we were able to get close enough to treat him, get his wounds seen too. He didn’t dare snap again after that, least not at any of the team. He got fitted with a prosthetic wing, has been flying for about half a year now, and is in the process of being adopted by a lovely young couple who live out in the mountains away from any towns, perfect place for him. I think they run a pumpkin farm out there and needed some defence. Me and that Salamanca are friends now, he’s learnt that just because a humans in a position of power doesn’t mean you have to cower, no ones ping to hurt them now, they’re safe, they can enjoy again. We socialised them, we tended to them, they’re not perfect, they still get spooked by too much noise, they’re jittery with crowds, that’s to be expected.

This is a case I mention because it’s a difficult one, not a lot of sane people will throw themselves at a Pokemon like that, and this is what the work is like. Sometimes you just do what’s right, even if it could end pretty badly, luck, great training, and years of practice are on my side, and for that reason I’m able to take in difficult ones. Each professor will handle different Pokemon, different types and varying levels of difficulty, all help is good help, you don’t have to wrestle a dragon, you can handle things a hundred different ways, and hell they might just work! The only true constant is patience. You sit up at night with them, when it’s stormy or windy and they’re scared, you hold your ground when they’re lashing out, you sit through the worst of it with them. You get bitten and cut and bruised and broken and it’s worth it because at the end they get to start again, they get a go at a second life that’s way better than what they had before.

Very rarely will we ever initiate attacks on a Pokemon on the island, we usually do all damage control with non-violent, defensive methods, and at the very most the rescue Pokemon will be put to sleep or knocked to the ground and immobilised. I see some folks battling against their rocket Pokemon, which can be a great use of energy but also can plant more seeds of distrust between the humans and Pokemon involved. It’s best to at least leave that until you’ve built up trust between you and the Pokemon I think, but each to their own I suppose.

If we need to do psychology we send them to Pari, who does therapy sessions with individuals who think they need it or are referred to her, she’s quite an accomplished student and uses my dear old porygon-z as a translator to talk with patients about their issues. Life is a lot easier when there’s less of a language barrier. We offer pretty much everything we can to the rescues we get, and they are given dedicated space upon arrival.

As for safety measures, yes, of course we have them. Gear is necessary when handling certain types, fireproof overalls and gloves are most common. We always go in with a functional pair of Pokemon, alwasy two minimum. We have this minimum because of many Pokemon going to attack our partner, missing on purpose, and going straight for us. One partner is offence, one is defence, you must cover your back, that defensive individual is more for you than anyone else, if you get hurt you can’t help others effectively. It really depends on the case, I’ve handled big Pokemon who got freaked out by heavy protective gear. Their old trainer would wear safety gear while being cruel to them, so we had to ditch it all, we realised it was causing problems and dealt with it fast. There’s also a number of first aid stations all over the island, not only for the sake of the law but also, we all get hurt a fair bit on the job.

Hope you feel informed!

[chaeiimimi]

06 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞

Summary: you weren’t really sure how it happened, but an average student who wore glasses and spent all her extra time on bookstores and library managed to date your school’s volleyball club setter. On your 3rd year of law school, your ten years anniversary to be exact, he went home from Argentina and it was a week before he was going back, he broke up with you with the reason of he can’t handle long-distance relationship anymore despite being at it for two years. You didn’t cry, you stood there as he was sobbing in front of you, you held his face in your palms and offered him a gentle smile, gentle enough to let him know you’ll support him and will always be watching him, together with the child in your stomach right now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

chapters: prev / next

“you know I was joking when I called you shittykawa right?” Iwaizumi asks his bestfriend who  was now in his house at 1 A.M having drinks

the ex-captain merely nodded

“then why did you act like an actual piece of shit?” Iwaizumi was trying hard, he really was trying hard to understand why the hell his bestfriend would say such a thing

“I don’t know okay? I was so nervous and- and she sounded like she didn’t want me back - I was afraid Iwa-chan!” he says groggily the alcohol finally taking a toll on him

“so you told her, you’re gonna leave them alone after two months, is your brain made out of shit too? are you out of your mind Tooru?” 

Oikawa flinched at hearing his first name from his bestfriend

“I know it’s selfish, but I just want to be happy, even for just a little while, I think they’ll be better off without me, my life-my life is crazy Iwa, you know that more than anyone else, do you think they’ll be happy if they were with me? do you think their lives would be peaceful as it is now if I will let them live with me? I can’t let them live the life I’m living now” he sounded so torn and frustrated he doesn’t know what to do

“I’m not good enough for them Iwa, I’m not good enough for her” 

“Is this about the death threats?” 

Oikawa looks at his bestfriend, eyes wide open with beads of tears forming at the side

“how did you-”

“your coach told me” Iwa says and takes another sip of his beer 

“I never asked for this, I just wanted to play volleyball” Oikawa says meekly and gulps down his beer

“I thought your fans were crazy back in high school,  they’re even crazier now huh?” Iwaizumi said in attempt to lighten the heavy mood

Oikawa opened another beer and downed it

“Are you happy with your decision?” Iwaizumi asks his bestfriend

the setter shook his head “I wanna be good enough for them, for her” 

the former ace’s lips slightly upturned

“you really are a crappy guy are you? maybe you should start with stopping yourself from drinking beer and start attending your therapy sessions again” 

Oikawa looks at his bestfriend, feeling lucky to have found an amazing companion

Iwaizumi hoisted him up and supported him in going to the guest room 

“hey Iwa-chan” 

the ace looks at his bestfriend, his left eyebrow arched 

“thank you” he says sincerely

Iwaizumi avoided his eyes “tsk why are you thanking me shittykawa? It’s pretty obvious you’re gonna end up with each other, one way or another” 

Oikawa woke up at the sound of his phone violently ringing on the bedside table, he had the worst headache he had in years, his mouth was dry beyond belief, and his body ached all over

he picked up his phone not bothering to look at the caller

he answered with a groggy “hello”

“hey Oikawa” 

his body jolted up with the sound of your voice, you sounded... sick?

“hey, did you miss me already~” despite his head-splitting headache, he still managed to say something sly, he was Oikawa Tooru after all

he could practically feel your eyes roll at the other side of the phone

“I uhh kinda need your help, If you‘re not busy today that is’ you said in between coughs

Oikawa arched his left eyebrow, it was pretty rare for you to ask for help, knowing fully well how independent you were

“no, I’m not busy today” he says getting up from his bed and making his way towards Iwaizumi’s kitchen to get some ice cold water

“great, can you look after the twins for me? I’m kind of sick right now and I don’t want my sons to catch my cold” your voice was croaky and it was very obvious that you were sick

“our” he says and taking a sip of ice cold water

“what?” you asked confused on the other line 

“our sons” he says seriously which caught you off-guard 

there was a long silence between the both of you when he cut it off

“I’ll be there in 30″ he says

you mutter a small “thanks” and ended the call

Iwaizumi entered the kitchen with his trainer uniform on

“why are you smiling like a  creep crappykawa?” the ace asks and gets himself some water

“today is a good day Iwa-chan” 

in less than 30 minutes, Oikawa was able to, aid his heavy hangover, beat the record for the world’s fastest shower, and got away from exceeding speed limit because it was 7AM in the morning

despite lacking about three hours of sleep, he was full of energy

he rang the doorbell thrice and was greeted by a very flushed face you, with a cooling pad sticking on your forehead, wearing a very over sized fuzzy hoodie which was a dress on you and a pair of mickey mouse patterned pajamas 

he smiled at how cute you were despite being horribly sick 

“It’s cold, you should probably go inside” he says and ushers you inside

you sat on the couch while he made his way to the kitchen

“have you eaten yet?” he asks and you shook your head staring at a distance

“alright I’ll cook you some porridge” 

“you know how to cook now?”

“apparently, living alone teaches you a couple of things” he says as he washes a pot

“I only asked you to take care of Haruto and Hayato” you said in as a matter of fact tone 

but he just shrugged and smiled at you “It’s part of the package bubs”

if you were only flushed earlier you were as sure hell riper than a tomato now

silence engulfed the both of you, you weren’t facing him so you could only hear the sound of kitchen utensils

“Himari will get mad if she hears about this” you said out of the blue

“Oh don’t worry about her, she’s not my girlfriend, besides, I already have someone I like” 

you swallowed thickly, a little sting making it’s way to your heart

“that’s good for you then” you said trying to mask the bitterness in your voice

“trust me, it’s even better for you” he says with a light chuckle which made you confuse

I apologize for this short update, I just finished four exams and my brain is all mush hehe, I hope y’all liked this chapter. Reblogs and Comments are very appreciated and just comment, dm or ask me if you guys want to be tagged on future chapter updates. Stay safe babes<3

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[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 33

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: assault, swearing, trauma, tones of ptsd 

A/N: this chapter is heavy with prominent mentions of assault. if that triggers you, please skip this chapter. 

NEXT CHAPTER

She stood in the middle of the set, surrounded by bright lights as the cast and staff moved around to change the setting of the set design. There was nothing she could really feel and she felt herself almost out of her own body, the lack of sleep weighing not only on her eye bags but on her brain and ability to properly function. She felt she was watching herself out of her own body, watching as she dragged herself from scene to scene, almost changing into a completely different person when the cameras were on. It was mechanical, an ability of someone who’d been acting since she was a child. She slipped in and out of her own consciousness, almost knowing everything with a sharp eye but ignoring it. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t sleep. Any news that appeared regarding HYDRA or criminal organisations were always a trigger to keep her up at night. The silence itself was a trigger. Every blank letter she would get would send her into a spiral, every knock on her door. Wherever she turned, either Bucky or however haunted her seemed to surge. Except this time, Bucky wasn’t around. Sharon was but she couldn’t help to think something was off. 

Two weeks. 

Something was off.

She was no super soldier and she was no agent so all she could do was merely put a smile and say “nothing” whenever they asked her if something was wrong. Not that they asked, she was a good actress after all so to everyone else, even Sharon, she was peachy keen, with the same shy smile she always had on set. After all, this was the place she could be anyone but herself. Anna, the character she was playing, was so far removed from her own personality that whatever she felt seemed to dissipate mid takes. Yet, there was no comfort in becoming someone else, becoming someone who was so one dimensional she’d rather be back in her mind. Wherever she turned, she felt trapped, shackled by the weight of her own thoughts. There was nothing she could do. 

     - CUT! It’s a wrap everyone. - the bright lights dimmed as a ‘pop’-like sound removed her from her own dazed consciousness. She clung onto her own arms, turning around with a quickened heartbeat which slowed down as she realised it was merely a bottle of champagne which was now being half poured into flutes and half poured onto the floor. Yet, all she could hear was a buzzing in her ears.

She stood in the middle of everything, almost like a movie shot. Things moved fast but she knew they moved slowly and she remained there, in the middle of the shot, listening to everything as if she were underwater. Everyone was celebrating, drinking and laughing out loud but she couldn’t hear anything. Just a buzz. That’s all she could hear. The buzz and the sound of the wind bustling her dress. 

     - Y/N? - Sharon moved through the crowd, knowing way too well what was happening. She had seen it before. She carefully put her hand just slightly over her shoulder, not touching her but anyone would sense it. - Can you breathe in and out?

    - Huh? - she was once again pulled out into her body and suddenly everything was just too fast, everything was just too loud as if someone had pressed the forward button on an old VHS tape. Her eyes moved side to side as her own hand pressed against her chest, a forceful reminder to feel her own heart beat. - Yeah, hum, I just need a break.

    - That’s fine. - Sharon nodded her head and started to guide her out the middle of the set; however, a much familiar sound of heels hitting the gravel halted those plans. The she was, always board in hands. - Move. 

    - You’re needed. - Ms. Olson pointed at the actress in front of her with her pen. - The director wants to speak to you. 

    - Yeah, that’s fine. - Y/N pulled a fake smile. There was no use putting a fight, she had already done so and something told her not to stray too far off the cage they had put her in. She knew that with Bucky gone and Sharon under the cover she was one of her old university classmates which had settled down in New York as a stage manager, she had no protection, at least no personal protection. What she had belonged to the agency and if she toed out of line, she’d be left to fend for herself. She could barely look at the mail without shivering, much less fend for herself. She was a short woman, anyone taller than her could easily overpower her and that was the sad truth.

Once again, she found herself out of her body, watching as she walked the gravel with Ms. Olson to the trailer belonging to the director. Y/N was tired, she had no intention of wanting to speak to anyone, all she wanted to do was try to sleep yet here she was knocking on the door of the man she had learned to stray away from. The door was opened by his assistant, a small woman barely in her twenties, couldn’t be much younger than 5 years from Y/N, who had an almost meek look to her, hunched back even. Before Y/N could ask her what was wrong, the director, Mr. Powell, was already yelling out for the assistant to leave and for Y/N to come already.  The girl stepped out and closed the door behind Y/N, leaving the two of them inside his trailer. It was grimy with papers and open bottles everywhere and the stench of smoke was thick in the air. It was almost comical, cartoonish even how it looked as if a cartoon, over exaggerated version of a 70′s movie director. 

   - Sit down. - he pointed to the spot on the brown couch near him. She was hyper aware of everything as she sat down on the couch, yet living a big space between the two of them. - You almost ruined my shot today with those puffy eyes, darling. 

    - I’m sorry, sir. I’ve been having some personal issues, I thought they would’ve de puffed by today. 

    - I’ve heard. - he took a puff of his cigarette which laid in the middle of his calloused fingers, laying against the couch rest as if he were on top of the world, when he was merely as much of an unknown as she was. He was no famous director, he wasn’t even a good one. - I thought you were missing your shadow. Where is he anyway? Lost his mind again? You know, darling, I’m always worried about you. I mean once a killer, always a killer, right?

    - ... You’re pathetic. - it came out of her lips without her even noticing it. She stared at him with a lack of respect few people saw yet as quickly as she said those words, she was pined down against the brown leather of the couch. She could feel the cracked leather against the skin of her neck. His hand gripped her throat, hard, cutting her air flow and keeping her against the couch cushions. 

   - You ungrateful little bitch. - Y/N started kicking her feet, trying to somehow roll over on the floor. - I gave you the best role, put up with you not losing any weight and looking like any average shopping girl and how do you repay me? By being a whore? 

She continued to kick her legs up in down so fast it had already started to tire her muscles. Her hands clawed at his face, leaving scratch marks which were sure to remain red and angry on his cheeks. 

   - I’m gonna give you some advice, darling. You wanna get ahead? Start whoring yourself for someone other than your boyfriend.

His hands left her neck and he returned to sit down where the place where he had been, as if he hadn’t just chocked her against the couch pillows. Y/N got up from the couch and bolted towards the door, pulling it open and climbing down the stairs, noticing the assistant was in front of them. Same meek look, yet Y/N continued to charge away from the set villa until she stopped on the sidewalk, sitting down as she watched the traffic in front of her. The weather was cloudy and dark yet somehow the cars lights made it brighter and it hurt her head. It hurt her head too much. The smell of fog and the bright lights hide her away as she tucked her head in the middle of her knees, chest going up and down yet no tears rolled down her face. 

     - Hey ... - Sharon sat by her side. - Let’s go home, yeah? 

The fog merely thickened and lowered, covering the whole of New York in a somber mood. The wind itself was also fast and freezing and as Bucky stepped inside government headquarters, the mood as just as somber. The lights were yellow yet everything had a weird green-like tinge. Everyone was mechanically induced into their own work yet he was hyper aware of everything. Two weeks. Two weeks to bring in a HYDRA general and a senator which were sure to buy their own bail and go back and all he could say and think was he was tired. James “Bucky” Barnes was tired and worn down. 

He strutted towards the interviewing room where Agent Cox and Doctor Raynor were. It was nothing new to him, it was always the same; he would return from whatever assignment had been given to him and be questioned on it by whatever agent was looking over the case and then had a “therapy” session with Doctor Raynor. It was never to check if he was alright, or at least it barely was. They just wanted to see him, to see the Winter Soldier was still inactivated. He understood that yet that didn’t mean he particularly liked it.

He told the agent all he wanted know, from where he had found the two he had just brought in, to some background info. There wasn’t much to say and when he was done, he was left with Doctor Raynor. He stood against his metal chair, convinced to get this over and done with so he could go back to Brooklyn. Back to her. 

    - How are you, James?

    - I’m good, doc. Can I go now? 

    - James, that’s not how this works. You should know that by now. - she opened her notebook. Great. - Tell me about the mission.

    - It was an extraction, mission. No one got hurt. - lies. He had gotten hurt, he had taken a pretty harsh blow to his cheekbone which was developing into a nasty purple bruise, yet, that was not who they were questioning him about. If he had gotten hurt, it didn’t matter. - No nightmares either. 

    - Are you lying to me, James?

    - No, I just want to get out of here. I haven’t seen my girlfriend in two weeks. 

    - Tell me about your girlfriend. - she closed the notebook, almost as if this was off book yet he knew that nothing was off book. Not for him. Everyone has the right to privacy but the Winter Soldier. - What’s her name? 

    - Y/N. 

    - How old is she? 

    - Younger than me. 

    - No need to be hostile, James.

    - No need to ask me about my love life, doc. 

    - Any big fights? Any ... problems regarding your condition? Healthy sex life?

    - Are you asking me if I abuse my girlfriend? - his blood boiled yet he tried to keep cool. He knew an anger outbreak would only keep him in this session for longer than he wanted. Despite this, he chose to get up and leave the room. 

He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear those accusations, he didn’t even want to think about it. Bucky did not like the idea of the Winter Soldier and Y/N together. He didn’t want to merge those two worlds together. The Winter Soldier was someone, a part of him which he didn’t fully understand and he didn’t want Y/N together with it. No, Bucky wanted Y/N to only see whatever bit of kindness, whatever few bits of goodness lied within him. He didn’t want her to the Winter Soldier’s girlfriend. He knew he didn’t deserve her and that title only further reminded him. 

He continued to be lost in his head, those questions running through his mind as he unlocked the door only to be met with Sharon pointing her gun at him. She lowered her gun once she realised who it was that stood in the entrance, putting the gun back in between her jeans and her shirt. 

   - Two weeks? That was long. 

   - Not my fault, Sharon. - Bucky dropped his duffel bag to the floor. - How is she?

   - Not good. - Sharon crossed her arms. - You have to tell her things, James. C’mon, you can do that with me and Steve and maybe even Sam. We know them, we’ve been in missions before but she doesn’t. 

   - Spare me this.

   - She barely slept while you gone, James. God, are you so afraid she’ll stop loving you if you tell her about the Winter Soldier that you’d rather her live in constant anxiety every time you have to leave?

    - I won’t have to leave. 

Sharon scoffed, grabbing her jacket from the coat hanger.

    - Do you seriously believe that, James? 

    - Since when do you care about Y/N?

    - Stop being your worse enemy, James. She deserves to know.

God, she sure was awful now, Bucky thought to himself as Sharon left probably to return to Steve. The flat was intact, things were just as he had left them and everything was quiet except for the TV in the living room. Their bedroom door was slightly opened, probably so Sharon could keep an eye on Y/N. He took his shoes off so his steps wouldn’t alarm her and walked into the bedroom. She was there, in the bed, laying on her side, sleeping peacefully. Bucky walked up to her side of the bed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

She stirred in her sleep, eyes slowly opening as Bucky began to shush her, trying to make sure she went back to sleep. Last thing he had wanted was to awake her up.

    - Bucky? - she held herself onto one arm, the other hand coming to rub the sleep off her eyes. Once the blurriness dissipated and she confirmed it was indeed her Bucky, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, almost knocking him into the bed.

Bucky melted in her touch, burying his nose in her hair, sensing the scent of vanilla from her shampoo and the warmth of her skin. This was home, not Brooklyn but her. She was home, she felt like home. She pulled away from the hug for a bit to examine him, her fingers brushing the bruise on his cheekbone.

    - What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?

    - I’m fine. It’s just the bruise, Y/N. 

    - I’ll get some ice. - she prepared to get out of bed but he pushed her back on it. She felt onto his chest and he held her against him with one arm. What he did not expect was to see how uncomfortable she became at the inability to move. He was used to playing around with her, rolling around or having her on top of his chest. 

   - What’s wrong, princess?

   - Nothing ... - she shook her head. - I just missed you. I was afraid you were hurt or you were dead. 

   - I’m not hurt, I’m here. 

   - You’re staying, right? - she questioned, rolling to his side of the bed, laying on his side. - You’re not here just to visit.

   - Yeah, I’m staying, princess. - he caressed her cheek, leaning his forehead against hers. Sharon’s words, however, kept pulling at him. She loved him, he knew she loved him. Right? 

   - You’re making the face.

   - What face?

   - Your thinking face. - she cuddled against him, fingers softly pulling his chin down so he was looking at her. - What are you thinking about?

   - You love me, right? - he probably sounded insecure, he could hear himself sounding insecure, his voice cracking. She cocked her head to the side before raising her fingers to trace his jaw. 

   - Of course I do. You think I’d be marrying you if I didn’t love you?

   - I wanted to hurt them. - he blurted. - I wanted to torture them. Both of them.

   - Who?

   - Every time they send me to any of these assignments. Make amends ... I wanna hurt those people, I wanna hurt them like they hurt me and I hate it.

   - Buck ...

   - I’m ... I wanna be a good person, Y/N. I wanna be good. - he shut his eyes tightly. - And I’m not. 

   - It does not make you a bad person to want to hurt you hurt you, to want revenge. You do not act on it and that’s the difference. You’re not a bad person, Bucky. 

   - You’re the only person who thinks that. 

   - Doesn’t matter. - she smiled at him, softly kissing him. - I’m not expecting you just to move on and let it go. It’s part of your life and it’s part of you and I love you. All bad and all good, I love you. 

   - Maybe you need a better judgement. 

   - I have the best judgment between the both of us. I have no thrown myself off a plane without a parachute. 

   - That can’t be your way of winning arguments. 

   - It is my way of winning arguments. - she giggled at him. - Let’s just go to sleep. 

The night seemed short, way too short but it did not matter because both of them were there. It was calm, too calm until a harsh knock had both of them wake up from her slumber, the morning barely bright yet there was already some light. Y/N clung onto his arm as another harsh knock was delivered against his door. Bucky moved slowly to take his gun from under the bed before he walked out the bedroom, putting his gun behind his back as he opened the door. The police stood in front of him, quite a few of them. Way too many.

   - James Buchanan Barnes, you are under arrest for the alleged harassment and stalking of Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

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[mypoisonedvine]

Congrats on your milestone!! You are MORE than deserving! 💖 How are HML!Bucky and reader doing? How is he doing in the process of trying to atone for his crimes? Does the change in their relationship dynamic change as a result? Does that ever drive a wedge between him and reader now that they’re dating and so close? Does he ever get jealous whether it be of her clients or gazes from strangers in public, etc?

I think abt this series on the daily, it’s so good and so wonderfully written from both perspectives, not to mention hot as FUCK. Even if you don’t wanna answer I just want you to know your writing is amazing and compelling and I’m so happy for you and that I came across your work 🥰🥰

these are great questions! heavy metal lover is long since behind me so this isn't, like, 'canon' or whatever but I do have some ideas about what's become of mistress and her good boy bucky!

so, in my mind, he's been getting some less sexual therapy (lol) and working through his trauma, he still benefits a lot from sessions with you but the dynamic is way softer... he needs gentle guidance, not much pain. and he loves loves loves being praised as always. you bring him to tears often but not with punishment, just with unconditional love.

he's pretty good about not being jealous of your work, but he does get stressed out sometimes, and even has a few episodes where all his trauma and guilt makes him think that you're going to leave him and the fact that so many men pay to be with you makes him feel like that threat of you leaving is just around the corner. but you always reassure him and he never makes you feel bad about what you do. over time you choose to tighten your client boundaries and like 90% of your work is technically legal since there's no explicitly sexual contact.

of course, everything changes when you find out you're pregnant. bucky figures it out instantly, maybe it's like super soldier instinct or something or maybe it was a lucky guess, but one day you're like "huh i have a bit of a headache and my boobs are sore?" he's like "oh my god babe you're pregnant" and you don't believe it until three pee sticks confirm his suspicions lmao

he's ecstatic, from the beginning; you're overwhelmed but definitely happy and excited for what's to come. you know you could make bank as a pregnant dominatrix (that's a very specific fetish for which people would pay damn good money) but you feel weird 'using' your baby like that so you instantly retire and he starts taking care of you full time.

he's obsessive, he won't let you lift a finger, he seriously seems to think if you do anything for yourself while pregnant you'll explode. he also proposes to you immediately after finding out you're pregnant, which you kinda dislike since you assume he's doing it because you're pregnant, but he proves he's wanted this for ages when he shows you the ring he bought months ago... he was just waiting for the right time. you get engaged but you don't wear the ring as much as he'd like because you're afraid your fingers will get swollen and it'll get stuck lol

so, to answer your question, reader and bucky are doing great <3 I'm so glad you enjoyed the series and I hope you liked this little glimpse into their life after the last chapter!

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 25

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 18,006

WARNINGS: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, Continuous First Person to Third Person POV Shifts, ONE! Tom Third Person POV, Self-harm, Alcohol, SMUT! (NSFW): oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

Summary: It’s March of 1922, Ali’s nearing the end of her stay with the Shelby’s. After years of waiting, she’s finally ready to move on, but will fate let her. 

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 24.2  CHAPTER 26

A/N: This chapter contains some POV switches as will the next chapter! Y’all know the deal. Black line breaks are there as a warning for the self harm scene. Only 1 ‘n it’s small! 

Smut is finally here! I haven’t written a SMUT scene in forever, so I fear I’m a little out of touch. 

It’s March of 1922 and things are going great! Well, not really, I had a mental breakdown so... I mean, not as bad as my last one, which was like a year ago. But, I was coming to terms with the fact that I killed someone! Someone who I did not have a paid hit on, but I murdered out of pure hatred. 

So, I had to do some inner reflection on that, and it would have gone a lot smoother if I had chosen to stop doin’ my side job. But I didn’t. I kept on with my “assassinating.” 

So was I really healed? Probably not, but hey! I don’t think about it anymore. I did it, I got away with— let’s move on. The guy was a douche anyway. Probably did society a favor. 

Yeah…

Right now I was cleaning up at Cassie’s flat. The gang was coming over soon, and I had to get the blood of a client off of me. The job was easier than most. I infiltrated another big party, seduced the target, and shot them in the chest and in the head. It’s a rule of thumb I have that I took from Zombieland. I got some blowback on me, so that’s why I’m taking a shower.

I’m not in the best of spirits tonight. Why, you may ask? Well, it’s because Michael and Arthur were to be arrested tonight. The only reason I knew was because Moss tipped me off. He caught me while I was visiting his wife. He took me aside and told me that Campbell had reason to arrest Michael, and he told me when it was going to take place.

The only reason why he was letting me know was because Campbell had his own plans for me. He didn’t know if Campbell wanted me arrested, but if I was on the scene— I was to be taken in. 

Let me tell you, I was so fucking proud of myself for befriending Moss’s wife! The single best thing I ever did. I mean, I knew I would be “bailed out” in no time thanks to all my rich mates, but Michael would still be in the clink. I think. I could ask around for some connections, if I needed to or was asked.

But, yeah. Michael and Arthur were being arrested tonight while I was at Cassie’s. Of course I felt guilty that I couldn’t prevent it, but it’s not like I could in the first place. That would mess with the timeline too much. 

Eventually, I got out of the shower, dried off, and put on my underwear. I’ve been trying to get more comfortable with my breasts, so I haven’t been wearing my bra to bed. In nothing but my towels and underwear, I walked out into the room.

“So,” I began while walking over to the bed, where I had my clothes laid out. “What’s on tonight’s agenda? Some heavy flirting? A therapy session? Or some good old fashion gambling?”

Cassie giggled, a pillow in her grasp as she threw open her arms. “All of it, babes!”

I chuckled. “That’s what I like to hear.” I dropped my towel and put on my dress. It was a velvet robe-like dress. Very flowy and comfortable, though it had a deep v-neck. Again, trying to get comfortable with my tits. Luckily, this process has been going on for a while and Dougie and Horace are now used to seeing a bit of my cleavage.

The pair do not regard me as anything more than a mate. Dougie is like my male twin flame while Cassie’s my female twin flame. They just match my vibe so fucking well! While Horace...well, he only has eyes for Angie. We bond pretty well academically, though. He answers a lot of questions I have pertaining some of the hypotheticals I conjure while writing.

After I put on my dress, I lotioned up my legs and arms before moving on to caring for my hair. I was brushing it out when the gang came in.

Dougie came up to me and kissed my temple before heading toward the table with the rest of the group. I hurriedly scrunched up my hair as I desperately wanted to join the conversation in fear of being left out. 

I threw my hair towel aside and quickly shuffled to the table. Cassie saw me coming and got up from her seat.

While beckoning me to her, she said. “Ali, c’mere.” 

I sat in her chair and once I was settled down, she sat on my lap. I sighed before asking, “So, what are we playing first?”

Cassie was sitting on my lap sidesaddle. She reached over on the table to the carton of ciggies that someone had thrown, tapped it on the bottom before pulling two out. 

With a ciggie hanging from her mouth, Angie replied while shuffling the cards. “We decided on Go Fish. Your favorite.” She winked at me and I returned it.

I giggled before accepting the ciggie Cassie held for me. She rested hers on her lip and just as she went to lit it— Dougie leaned over to us.

“Here, just use mine.” He said while pressing the end his ciggie to hers. 

Muffled, Cassie replied. “Thanks.” She looked back to me, took my face in her hands, and connected the ends of our ciggies. Basically, repeating what she’d just done with Dougie.

I swear to God, this group is so sus. And I think I’m partially at fault for how close and open the group is. I’m sorry, okay, I’m a physical person and I cut through the bullshit with the people I hold dear!

Angie dealt the cards, and I slid them closer to my face. I was exhaling when Cassie decided to start the conversation flow again.

She asked. “So Tina, how’s your married man? What was his name again?”

Tina tsked, a scowl on her face. “Darren, his name’s Darren. And, he’s fine...”

I raised an eyebrow. “Just fine? Who the hell’s starting?”

Angie cleared her throat. “I dealt so Douglas goes. Cassie’s sitting in your lap, so either you or her is next and vise versa. Then, Tina goes and finally Horace before me.”

I nodded as a quiet “oh” escaped my mouth. I looked back over at Tina.

Tina replied. “Yes, just fine.”

“So, has he filed for a divorce from his wife? Any sevens?” Dougie asked.

Horace and Angie gave him their cards.

Tina pouted, her arms crossing defensively. “He—! He’s been avoiding the question.”

All of us shared a glance and some of us hummed.

Dougie asked. “Any fives?”

“You know, statistically and due to England’s current standpoint on divorce— Darren is less likely to actually ask his wife for a divorce. There is an even lesser probability that the divorce would even be granted in a court of law—” 

The four of us girls shouted. “Go fish!”

“--because we’re obsessed with this “Christian purity.” And, his wife would have to be the adulterer. And as it stands right now only he has—!” Horace was spewing before he was cut off. His face contorting in pain before hunching over. 

Collectively, we all glanced at Tina, who was not holding up well. 

This was not going good, and the urge to tell her that I told her so, was not helping. She should just dump him, but eh, who was I to judge? 

I cleared my throat before holding my ciggie away from my lips, and asking through an exhale, “Anyone got any Queens?”

Cassie didn’t hesitate to give me two. I took the two I had in my hands and laid the four cards on the table. 

“Anyone got any nines?”

Angie threw one of her cards to me. Cassie passed it to me before looking over to Tina.

She said. “Well, Tina. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll support you. If ya want to stay with him, or leave him. We’ll be right here for ya.” 

All of us tried comforting her ‘n all we managed to get was a small smile in return. It didn’t reach her eyes, I knew that. However, I really wanted to have a good time so I was looking to change the subject. 

‘Just—! Anyone please talk about anything else!’

As I inhaled, I asked. “Any threes?”

“Go fish!”

I tsked.

I was laying down on the floor with Horace. Our arms were extended up in the air and we laid opposite to each other, if that made sense. Like basically, our heads were right next to each other. 

Our arms were in the air because I was playing with Horace’s fingers. Angie, Tina, Cassie, and Dougie were either sitting on the sofas/couches, or somewhere else in the room. He was a little drunk and wanted to calm down, so I offered to stay with him.

“So, how are things going with Angie, buddy?” I asked while still playing with his fingers.

He sighed and then chuckled. “Better. I think she… I think she’s beginning to like me back.”

I hummed and chuckled under my breath. “Well, don’t get too cocky there. She’ll knock back down a peg or two if she finds out that you’re feeling like that.”

Horace scoffed. “Don’t I know it. Hey! The only way she’d find out is if you tell her!”

My eyes widened and I spluttered rolling over to my sides. When I calmed down, I repositioned myself and grabbed hold of his fingers again. I sighed. “Well, that’s true but I promise I’ve never told her a thing.”

That’s a blag, I’m almost certain. It probably slipped from my tongue from time to time. 

I was running my fingertips over his short-cut fingernails while blowing raspberries. I took a deep breath before asking, “Well, you guys went on that date like last week, right? Angie’s told us some things, but how’d it go from your perspective?”

He blew raspberries before replying, “I think it went rather well. I mean she actually paid attention to me this time.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “Oh my god, Horace!”

“It’s true! This time I felt like she was actually like looking at me. I don’t know. She’s hard to read sometimes, but it’s endearing, really.”

“So, you’re saying that you like the mysterious side to her?”

“Yeah. Yeah, in a way, I am.”

“So, if you discover all there is to her, do you think you will lose interest in her?”

Horace and I grew quiet. His arms flopped down to his side which I repeated. I rolled over to my side, an arm supporting my head as my other hand scratched away at the rug.

Horace mimicked how I was laying, so that we were facing each other, and he sighed through his nose. “I don’t think I’ll ever know everything about her. People typically evolve over time as do their curiosities and interests. So, I don’t think you nor I nor Angie will ever fully know one another. However, to answer your question, no, I don’t think I would lose interest in her even if I knew everything about her. I—! I’ve been in love with her since I was a child, so it would be pretty odd if I were to just lose interest once we were together. I mean, then why the hell did I waste all these years pinning after her. You know?”

I hummed and nodded. “I feel that.” I continued picking at the rug. “Hey, Horace?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, um. Basically, you know what, nevermind, it’s dumb.”

“No, come on. Ask me.”

“No—”

“Just ask me.”

I sighed and looked down. “Well, I wanted to ask you since you’re a guy ‘n all. Um, why doesn’t Tommy like me?”

Horace’s tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he jerked his body around a little. Basically, shaking on his side like a mermaid out of water would, but not as violent. “Now, Aliena. Do you want an honest answer, or do you just want one that will solidify the ideas you already have in your head?”

I chuckled, a small smile spreading across my face before I shouted. “Both!”

Horace rolled over to his back and I inched closer to him. I hovered above him as he spoke. “Okay, then. The honest answer is, well, why does anyone not reciprocate a person’s love? It could simply be because you’re not the person’s type, or there could be any other extenuating circumstance. Why—? Why does Angie not acknowledge my love when I’m obviously ready to give her my all? She just has her reasons. Now, I’m not her nor am I your Tommy, so I can’t speak for him. I don’t know why he won’t look your way. Only he could truly tell you.”

I blinked, my mood souring. I took a deep breath and reached up to fiddle with the collar of his white dress shirt. “And the answer that would solidify my thoughts?” I whispered.

We stared into each other’s eyes as he replied. “You met him too early in life. You met him too early in life, and now all he can see is that 16 year old girl. Not to mention the 12 year age gap! I mean it would probably be nothing, if the both of you had met now, as you are 20 and he’s 32, but you met when you were 16 and 28. I—! Don’t get me wrong a lot of men would have gotten with you being 28 and you being 16. So, regretfully, I have to applaud the man.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s the truth, Ali. Men are—! Men aren’t the best. I’ve learned more than enough of the struggle women go through because of men from Angie, believe me!”

“Oh, I believe you!”

We chuckled before falling to a silence. 

Horace continued. “There’s also your personality!”

My jaw dropped and my face contorted. I smacked his chest as I gasped. “What’s wrong with my personality!”

He raised his arms and tried defending himself from my attacks. A big ol’ smile on his face. “Ali, you’re very affectionate! Do you know that? God, I’d have believed that Cassie would have fought with you if she didn’t know about Tommy. It’s honestly rather settling to know that you actually have your heart set on someone ‘cause you’d have fooled the rest of us!”

I pouted. Still fiddling with his collar, I asked in a childish voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you flirt with everyone in the group. You know that, right? You sit on Douglas’s lap. You sit on my lap! You sit on Angie’s! You kiss us on the cheek. Dougie kisses your cheek or temple. Then, there’s your unique fashion sense. I’m not judging your choice to display what God gave you. Angie would kill me if I did! But, you can even ask Douglas, we—! Well, I! Don’t regard you all that innocent, anymore. If you get what I mean, I—!”

I waved my hands as a way to stop him from tripping himself over his words even more. “I, I know what you’re trying to say. I get it all the time. Your point is?”

Horace took a deep breath before rubbing his forehead and letting his hand rest there. “Well, don’t you think that a person will just either get used to the affection or eventually grow annoyed by it?”

I’m regretting talking to him entirely.

“I don’t act like that with him, Horace. He’s still my boss, you know. I—! I could never!”

His eyes widened. “O-Oh! Then, disregard that last statement. Uh...”

I mean, but I have thought about that. I debated whether or not my compassion and love for the man was being taken for granted. Well, that he was manipulating me into like placating his feelings. I’m more used to that treatment coming from girls. You know, they act like they’re sad just so that I can comfort them— that sort of thing! I don’t deny that it’s crossed my mind.

Horace cleared his throat. “Well, then, perhaps he’s the sort of man that can’t handle you. You’re very independent and upbeat. I mean you can be serious when the moment calls for it, but you’re quick to giggle. Maybe he just wants a damsel in distress. Maybe he wants a more serious, proud woman. Proud being opposite to your “down to earthness.” Is what I’m trying to say.”

I snickered. “Uh… Right, okay? That was a whole lot in a small package. Um, right, okay then! Well, thank you for giving me your most honest answers, sir.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, madam.”

I snickered away while cringing and then stuck my tongue out at him. Eventually, we got up from the floor and rejoined the group. We chatted away while sipping our bevvies, and nursed our cigarettes before finding ourselves seated on the couches. 

Tina and Cassie were sitting on the couch opposite to Dougie and I. I was sitting rather close to him with my legs draped over his thighs. His right hand rested on my thigh while I ran my fingers through the back of his hair. 

Ah! I see what Horace was talking about. Yeah, all those Tik toks ‘n shit are coming back to me. Maybe I should ask Cassie how she feels about my touchiness? Oh, I definitely should. Great! Fucking dammit! Why did my love language have to be physical touch? 

He was telling me about his week when Angie’s voice was growing increasingly more loud by the second. She was pacing back ‘n forth in front of Horace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch.

Angie groaned exaggeratedly before snapping her fingers and shouting, “Ali, Ali! What about your opinion, eh? How do you feel living in these times while looking the way you do? Acting the way you do?”

I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced at both Cassie and Dougie. They both gave me shrugs. I sighed before pushing some of my hair away from my face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a drink in her right hand and waving about her left, she said. “Well, I mean you don’t conform to beauty standards. Right? Your hair is still very long, you typically wear what you want to wear. You enhance your curves and you know, embrace the waves in your hair. I mean that’s almost the total opposite of the way women dress today.”

I get that I was out of tune with the modern style, but she was making it sound like I was trying to be some sort of trendsetter.

I giggled and waved a hand and dismissed her comment. “I don’t know what to say. I wear what I want to wear. I—!”

“Exactly! Exactly. You wear what you want to wear. And, and you scrap with men. You fight your own battles. I mean—!”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Angie, Angie, wait a minute. I—! Look, we live one life. I intend on living it how I want. That’s all.”

She nodded. “I know! Exactly and that’s what I love about you. You don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks. You live your life the way you want, and I don’t know... Well, like tell us—! No, tell me how you do all this without worrying about snagging a man.”

Ah! And the other shoe drops. 

I sighed and rubbed my left eye. “Ah, okay. There we go, something I can answer. First and foremost, I dress and act however I want regardless of how a man sees me. How he chooses to warp me in his head, in anyone one’s head, is their problem. I will talk, dress, act, laugh anyway I want because at the end of the day— I have to live with myself and love myself. That’s how I go about my business.”

She began clapping and nodding, her lips pursed. 

Oh god, she was tipsy.

Angie snapped her fingers. “Exactly. And! And the beauty standards men put on us and other women expect each other to uphold is ridiculous. Like how the hell is one figure more attractive than another. Women are—! Women, men, everybody should be appreciated. Why, Why do we have to favor one type more over the other? I-I mean, I understand preferences but to subject people to a set criteria when some of us aren’t even capable of accomplishing that standard. It’s—! It’s preposterous.”

Angie raised her free hand to her forehead and she scratched it. “Take Aliena and Cassie for example, they can’t become more flat-chested. They can’t make them smaller. Nor, nor can they help their curvy figures! Why should society tell them to, you know, bind their breasts or something. Or to hide their figures in loose fitted clothing! They’re beautiful! Beautiful!”

All of us shared a glance at one another before bursting with laughter. We laughed so much that I’m sure all of our stomachs ached in pain. 

Through her laughter, Cassied rasped. “Angie, Angie sit the fuck down ‘n take a breather, hon’! For the love of...”

I chimed in. “Yes, please sit down before you blow a casket ‘n like faint or some shit.”

Angie pouted through a smile and plopped down on the couch. “I’m just saying. I mean Aliena, you exercise, right? Like, you work out in a way that a man does. Not just take strolls or ride bikes.”

I wiped under my eyes before nodding ‘n sniffling. “Yeah, I do. I exercise for myself. I don’t do it to please society or any man. I do it for me.” I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention back to Dougie’s hair.

Angie snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Thank you. I love you. Thank you. And that’s why I want to tear down Hollywood.”

“Ah—!” I snickered and shook my head before blowing her a kiss.

After that fiasco, things called down a bit ‘n I went back to talking to Dougie. He was tapping my thigh when he quickly picked up his head and said, “You know I finished developing the photos.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “The photos…? Oh, shit! The photos! How’d they come out?”

Some weeks ago, Dougie bought this camera and wanted to practice his photography skills. He loved the art, but it could never be his main job, for obvious reasons. His father was passing on the company to him, so we all know how that goes. Anyway, I made the suggestion that the gang could be like his practice models ‘n eventually I got everyone to agree.

It was fun, obviously! I helped position everyone and of course, I had to sneak in some 21st century gestures. I just hated that I wouldn’t be alive to see my grandbabies’ faces. I’ll break the timeline, just for this reason. To fuck with my descendents. 

During the day, we went to an empty grassland area and had like a cottagecore photoshoot. It was fucking fantastic! One thing from my bucket list I was lucky to complete. But at night, it was a more risque photoshoot. And yes, even Horace participated in it. I made him as did Angie.

Dougie smiled and nodded. “I think they came out to be pretty good. I’ll bring them next time. It just slipped my mind today.”

I psh-ed him and shoved his head away from me before throwing my head back in a cackle. We talked a bit more before I beckoned somewhere else. I eventually made it back to Cassie, and I was sitting on the couch while she was on the floor. I was messing around with her hair. Right now, I was making a bunch of braids. 

Cassie was eating some fruit while she was talking to Angie. “Okay, but like who was your first kiss?”

Angie hummed through hooded eyes with an arm hanging in the air. “Oh, it was Tina.”

I spluttered and began spazzing out. I scurried off the couch and started running around the room while shouting over and over again. “No way! No way! No fucking way!”

Cassie joined my freak out session by rolling around on the floor and slapping the couch behind her, where I was previously sitting. When I felt calm enough, I ran back to my spot.

I shouted. “No fucking way!”

Angie chortled. “What? Why is it such a big deal?”

“Uh...” Cassie and I just looked at each other. In an American accent, I said. “Well, I mean. I don’t wanna be a bitch, but like when I felt met y’all… You guys were kinda sus. Like Tina, full truth, I thought you had a humongous crush on Angie ‘n yeah so, um, yeah. Did y’all date or…?”

Angie’s eyes widened and she rose from Tina’s lap, who was stunned, by the way. Angie snatched a pillow from the couch and chucked it at me. 

“She��s. Just. Shy. And we were kids when we just did it! It was innocent.” Angie yelled. 

I cried out when the pillow hit me. Through my laughter, I replied. “I’m sorry!”

Angie huffed as she laid back down on Tina’s lap. “Yeah, yeah. You’re not the only one to think it. People just get the wrong idea. She’s just shy.” Angie reached up and caressed Tina’s face. “Oh, we’ve both kissed Horace, too.”

My jaw dropped and a hand flew over my mouth. I looked at Cassie and Dougie, who were just as shocked as me. I screamed into my hand and began running around the room again, only this time I wasn’t alone. Dougie was running in the opposite direction of me. 

He zipped over to Horace while I tackled Cassie on the couch. Well, I more like got her in a headlock ‘n swung her around a bit as I settled onto the couch. 

Tina groaned, averting her gaze from us before running a hand through her hair. She asked. “Well, who were your guys’s first kiss?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Ugh, I guess my first kiss was with my childhood best friend too. Name was Brooklyn.”

“Mine was with Mary, she was a classmate.” Cassie replied.

Angie tsked. “See a girl, right? Why are you harping on us for?”

Cassie and I just shrugged. It was like we had this silent agreement that we weren’t gonna bring up the fact that we kissed each other on the lips as a greeting and a farewell.

“Hey, do you guys think I would look hotter with blonde hair?” I asked.

They all began telling me what they thought. 

Later in the night, we just went wild ‘n I was happy for it. Michael and Arthur didn’t cross my mind once. We blasted our records, danced the night away while chatting, drinking, and smoking away.

I was overwhelmed with emotions at the end of the night because—… Because I never thought I would have a friend group like this, and now that I did— it was surreal. I genuinely felt that I wouldn’t be in the mental state I was in, if they weren’t in my life.

They made everything that much better. I was always happy with Tommy, but that feeling was contorting into something else now. You know? It was becoming increasingly more platonic, and as much as that should feel liberating— it frightened me. 

I have a million reasons why I held out for him for this long and why it frightens me so, and I’m not going to dwell on them. To be honest, I think the moment he did reciprocate my feelings and he told me, I probably would numb myself immediately. I would just be in such a state of shock that I’d deny his feelings ‘n just move the fuck on. 

‘I mean that’s what is expected of me, right?’ 

Since I am the way that I am. I can’t just blame it on social media’s influence. I mean when I imagined the scenario I end up cringing a ton, and I send myself into like a “tic fit.” It’s the best I can describe it. 

Anyhow, back to how the night went! We got super drunk, super high, and probably pissed off Cassie’s neighbors but we settled down at like three or four in the morning. The people living downstairs were most likely the most grateful since we were jumping around like crazy people. 

We, collectively, all crawled onto Cassie’s bed ‘n knocked out. I was probably the first to sleep. I’m not going to tell ya a blag. It was completely plausible. But, what I loved most about tonight— it was that I was surrounded by people who loved me. It was warm and I felt safe. Something I wasn’t even able to feel in my own home at times when I was back in my own universe. 

Cassie was the big spoon while I was the little, and Dougie was her big spoon. I made sure to avoid being in the middle anymore. I talked to Cassie and she was fine with my touching. She said I showed her the same amount of attention, and she knew I didn’t fancy him— so we were good.

However, I didn’t want to interfere with a perfectly good moment. So, I chose to be on the outside while Cassie was in the middle. Yeah, that didn’t stop her from cuddling me instead. I was too intoxicated and tired to tell her to cuddle Dougie instead.

When I woke up, I found it to be fairly early in the morning because the sky was grey. There’s a difference to the 6 am sky and the 8 am sky, okay! I didn’t get up right away. I wanted to savor the tranquility that surrounded me for a little while longer. But like all sweet things, they must come to an end.

My guess is that I was probably stirring around too much by accident ‘n woke up Cassie, who inadvertently awoke Dougie. I tried coaxing her back to sleep, but it was too late for the both of them. Begrudgingly, I inched my way off the bed and strolled over to the table.  

Dougie was right behind me. I could hear his loud yawn from behind me, and then his hands gently fell on top of my head. My head bobbled as he kissed the top of my head. 

“Mornin’, Ali.”

I smiled and while my head did a little dance, I replied. “Morning, Dougie.”

He pulled out a chair for me before going to sit on his own. While gripping the arms of the chair, I scooted closer to the table. I craned my head back to see Cassie on the phone, no doubt ordering food. 

We really didn’t begin talking till the food came. I think we were just still sleepy, but food and orange juice helped. Horace was the first to get up ‘n he attacked the bacon. Then, it was Tina and finally, Angie. Who was very grumpy, by the way. So not happy about being awake.

I don’t know how it happened, but eventually we broke out into a food fight. It was awesome.

“Oi! Fucking watch it!” I exclaimed as I narrowly dodged a ketchup covered egg. I knew it was covered in ketchup ‘cause I saw Tina drown them in it. I grabbed a syrup-soaked waffle and chucked it at Dougie.

It got him right on the side of his face. He exclaimed and his face contorted in disgust. My mouth immediately contorted into deep frown ‘n my eyebrows raised, and when his crazed eyes found mine— I gasped. My gasp was so deep like a man’s that I hurt my throat doing it. 

I held my hands up as I croaked. “Wait.” He inched closer to me. “Wait! Wait!” I turned my back and started running. Something you should know about me, I never liked being chased. It gave me another type of anxiety and happiness— it was so weird. 

Eventually, Dougie caught me and we started wrestling with each other. Through our grunts, I heard the phone ring and Cassie hopped across the room to get to it. She landed on the bed and crawled to the phone. While sitting on her knees, she answered the phone.

I turned my attention back to Dougie and tried crawling away from him as he attacked my sides. It wasn’t my tickle spot, but I laughed at the pain of his fingers digging into my sides, nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry!” I yelled. “I’m sorry! I give, now cut it out.” 

Dougie loosened his hold and sat up on his knees, flipping his bangs to one side as he did so. I didn’t hesitate to get up on my feet. 

“Never!” He shouted. “You got syrup on my face.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. I playfully yelled as I charged at him ‘n I barely managed to get him into a headlock when Cassie shouted for me. She motioned the phone toward me, and my smile dropped as did my hold on Dougie.

I walked over to the phone and brought it to my ear. While taking some of the hair that fell into my mouth, I said. “Hello?”

“Aliena, love.” Polly sniffled before continuing, “Thank god you’re alright. Um, I need you to come home, darling.”

“Polly, you’re crying. What’s happened?” I’m only half-ashamed to admit that I was exaggerating my concern. Hard to actually experience when I already knew what was up.

“It’s Michael. He’s been arrested. You need to come home to the house in Small Heath. We’re gonna have a family meeting.”

“Is Tom there yet?”

Polly sniffled again before replying, “No, not yet. You still have time before it begins, so come quickly. Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone and looked back at my mates. They were all looking at me concernedly. I waved my finger around before finding the words. “I, uh… I need to go. Cassie, can you tell Simmons—!”

She nodded. “Of course.” Cass instantly grabbed the phone and began calling him. 

I glanced at my mates one more time before walking over to the closet. I put on this off-white frock with some black heels. I didn’t fix my hair up or put on any makeup. I just packed up my things, threw on my coat, and hurried out the door. I bade everyone farewell before leaving.

I ran out of the car and into the house. I threw my backpack on the couch before shouting, “Polly, I’m here!”

Faintly, I could hear Polly gasp and then we met each other halfway in the kitchen. She pulled me into a hug and squeezed the breath right out of me. 

“Thank god!” She said. “Thank god you’re okay.” Polly parted from our hug ‘n began stroking my hair and face. 

Footsteps coming from my right caught my attention, and I hugged Finn, John, and Esme as they came up to me. All us exchanging words about how we were all glad that one another was okay. John caught me up to date as Polly was fawning over me. 

She couldn’t stop stroking my hair and kissing my temple. I didn’t mind it, but everything she did was exemplified since I wasn’t used to this sort of treatment from her. Well, I was ‘n it always happened in some sad event in our lives, and that’s probably what’s upsetting me the most. 

I managed to get her to sit down, and smoked a ciggie with her. Tom sure took his time coming home. It took him, perhaps, twenty to thirty minutes later before he strided through the kitchen and into the shop. 

I stubbed my ciggie out, just as Tom said. “John?”

“Coppers have lifted 10 of our men in Camden town, the rest of them on the run.” He replied.

Finn added. “Tom, they've taken Michael.” 

Polly rose from her seat and walked closer to the family and I followed suit, taking the opposite door to lean on. 

Tom waved Finn off saying, “Business first.”

“They took Michael— ”

“I said business first.”

“They picked him up—!”

“Polly, business first!”

‘Great! Went from having an awesome time last night to an anxiety ridden morning. I love my life. Wow, way to make it about myself. I’m amazing!’

Tom gave Pol one last look before asking John to continue. Polly looked vulnerable. She looked, sorry to say, pitiful. She was desperate to help Michael, but— obviously, Tom had an agenda he was intending to follow.

John continued. “They took all our whisky. So no doubt they'll be supping that for Christmas. They've impounded all our vans, put their own locks on the warehouse. The Eden Club and all our pubs have been raided by the coppers and handed back to Sabini and Solomons. The Black Country boys think it was Arthur who killed Billy because that's what the coppers told them. So there'll be no more free passes for our whisky boats.”

“I don't give a fuck about whisky. I don't give a fuck about Billy Kitchen.” Polly said as she walked over to the table and began to lightly slam her hand down on it as she spoke, “I want my son out of prison now.”

Esme decided to speak up, at the wrong time. “Thomas, I spoke to Johnny Dogs.”

“This meeting should just be family.” Polly insisted.

‘Ah—! Ma’am, the fuck does that make me? Oh, wait, family! You, idiot, you.’

“I can help.”

“-It's family only, she's not blood.”

“Let her speak.” Tom interjected, but Polly kept on going.

“Tommy! Or is this a business… How you forgotten family—!”

“ENOUGH!”

My hand flew to my mouth and I swear to God, my heart sank to my arse. ‘Holy fuck is the wrong, but holy hell is it erotic!’

I was given the side eye by multiple people in the room, and I quickly numbed my feelings. Faster than I ever had to before. I stood up straight and cleared my throat.

Tom looked back at Polly as he said. “Enough, Polly. Esme.”

“I spoke to Johnny Dogs. The Lees are kin.”

“The bloody Lees!” Polly exclaimed

“They can give us men.”

“We don't need more fucking men! It's men that have done the damage! It's… It is men fighting like cockerels that have put us here in the first place.”

Tommy said. “Esme, I'll take up their offer. We need men.”

There was this pregnant silence that stilled between all of us, and it made me bounce on my heels. 

Polly pointedly stared at Tommy, inching closer to him as she said. “If Michael ever gets out of prison, I am taking him away from this family, for good.” She took a step back from Tom and waved her hands around her. “This life is bad.”

Polly walked over to Finn ‘n grabbed him by the arm. “This life is all bad.” She began dragging him away and made a beeline for me. Pol gripped my arm ‘n began pulling me away too.

“Ah!” I exclaimed as my feet skidded across the floor.

“Aunt Pol, what’re you doin’?” Finn cried out as we were both being tugged away.

“Shut up and walk.”

I managed to crane my head back for one last look at Tom before Pol had tugged Finn and I out of the house. Tommy didn’t meet my gaze. 

Polly ushered us in her car and drove us to the house in Sutton. She ordered us to stay in the house, but I knew where she was going. I saw her make a call, which went on for sometime, before she darted for the door. 

I think she was calling Ada.

I grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. “Polly, wait! Where are you going?”

She sighed before taking my face into her hands. “I’m going to go see if I can get my son out by myself. Thomas isn’t going to help, so I’m doing this on my own.” Polly stroked the side of my face as she looked into my eyes.

“Don’t go...” I whispered.

Pol sucked on her teeth before shaking her head. I gripped her wrists as they were still close to my face and said. “I can—! I can call someone. My mates can help. They’re Michael’s mates too, so I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She shook her head and gently tugged her hands away from my face. I let her wrists go without hesitation. With one hand on my shoulder, and the other waving around as she talked, she said. “No. No, I can’t have your friends knowing about this side of the family. They’re different from us ‘n they need to have the best image of you they can. I will deal with this on my own. I will deal with this on my own as I’ve always done.” 

Polly quickly kissed my forehead and left just as I was about to continue to beg her not to. I ran after her, but my reaction time was a little too late since she was already in the car. I shouted after her, but she took off.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t—! I couldn’t interfere when she didn’t want me to, so I just walked back into the house ‘n focused on taking care of Finn. We spent our time talking and playing card games. I finished making our lunch when Ada showed up. I knew she’d show up. ‘Cause of the episode, of course. 

She brought Karl, which made everything better ‘n brighter for a while.

I  spent time playing with the baby and catching up with Ada. Eventually, I left Ada alone with Finn since I’m sure she’d wanted to talk to him alone. I had the maid make dinner ‘n eventually sent Finn’s lanky butt up to a room. Had the maid prepare it for him beforehand.  Ada and I talked into the night till Karl grew tired. 

She took another room and retired for the night. On the other hand, I only went up stairs to change into something more comfortable, then I went back down to wait for Polly to come back home. I basically wore a nightgown and put my hair into a ponytail. 

I knew Polly was going to want to take a bath ‘n I wanted to be the one to help her. It was only right since she’d helped me when I needed it. 

I hated myself. I hated myself. I could’ve tried harder. I could’ve used better words to persuade her. I could’ve—!

Polly stumbled in at around eleven o’clock at night. I sprang up from the couch ‘n she didn’t even make a fuss about the fact I was up. Pol stumbled into my arms with the stench of alcohol on her breath. 

“Ali my love!” She slurred as she leaned all her body weight on me.

I muffled a groan as I held her up. 

Polly picked herself up a bit and slapped her hands on my face. I flinched at the force she put behind it. 

“Beautiful...” She whispered. “Absolutely beautiful...” Her thumbs roughly wiped the space under my eyes. Bringing them up and down and stretched back. 

“Polly,” I whispered. “What’s happened?”

Her head jerked back and she stumbled away from me. Averting my gaze, she replied. “Is done. Michael with—! Michael will be out within, at, in the morning.”

I smiled and clapped my hands in front of my mouth. “That’s great news, Polly!”

She smiled and nodded, drunkenly. Like she was nodding like a bobble head, someone who wasn’t in control of their motor functions. Polly’s gaze drifted to the side and she pointed to the tub. “Were you gonna take a bath?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. I thought about it, but then I was waiting for you to come home. I had the fire lit. Why? Did you want to take a bath?”

Polly stumbled forward and gripped my arms, steadying herself before she nodded. “Yes. Yeah. Ali, darling, can you be so kind… And help me?”

I nodded, my eyebrows furrowing in concern. I ran to the kitchen and filled up the bucket for hot water. This house actually had a water heater ‘n that meant hot water from the tap. I had to make a few trips back ‘n forth but it was quicker than it would’ve been at the other house. 

“Alright, all done.” I turned back to Polly, who was sitting on the couch as she gazed into the fire. Her head shot up when I spoke. I turned around as a way to give her the privacy she needed to undress. 

I could sense her walking toward the tub and I turned my body more to the left while closing my eyes. Slowly, I got down to my knees ‘n sat on them. I wanted to give her the respect she deserved. The water sloshed as she dipped her body in the tub.

“Can you pass me the soap and sponge, love?” Polly asked me.

My eyes fluttered open instantly and I crawled to where I had placed the body soap and sponge earlier. I reached up for them and then crawled back over to her before giving them to her.

I sort of just sat there as she bathed herself. Her movements were sluggish and looked to be done with great difficulty. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to pry. I wanted her to open up to me and just cry about it. I didn’t want her to keep it in. However, I knew that was wrong, so I just picked at the carpet below me. 

Eventually, I couldn’t stand doing nothing and I asked her if I could shampoo her hair. She gave me a sloth-like smile and gave me permission. I reached up for the shampoo, took off my sheer robe, and shuffled on my knees around the tub. 

Polly leaned forward to give me some room. I scooped up some of the water from the tub using the pitcher and poured it along her hairline, slowly making my way to the back of her scalp. 

Shampooing someone else’s hair was always something comforting to me. I did Cassie’s hair all the time as she did mine. It was a type of intimacy that was more innocent than others types. 

I began humming something from Billie Holiday. I didn’t know the song by heart, but I knew some of the words ‘n rhythm enough. I was rinsing her hair when Polly’s shoulders began to shake. Muffled sobs escaped her nose as she shakily took deep breaths. 

I didn’t know what to do or say. I didn’t know if it was appropriate to touch her and hug her, so I asked. I asked if it was alright if I hugged her. Like a child, she nodded through her sobs. 

I hugged Polly from behind. She was wet, I knew that. I was painfully aware of the new sensation of my dress sticking to my body and her cold hair against my cheek. Everything in my being was screaming and begging me to launch myself backward, away from her— but my heart was pleading for me to do the opposite. 

My heart wanted to absorb her pain, and it was my heart that won. I choked back my tears. I didn’t have the right to shed them. I could’ve saved her from this pain. I could’ve prevented this. But, ultimately when I blinked, they slipped down my cheeks. 

I didn’t pry, I stayed true to my word. We composed ourselves simultaneously and silently. 

“Love?” 

I wiped my nose on my arm before answering, “Yes?”

“Can you get me a cigarette? They’re in my purse.”

I nodded as I muttered. “Of course.” I rose to my feet and walked over to her purse, which was on the sofa. I put one in my mouth and lit it. With it still hanging off my lips, I took a quick puff as I grabbed the ashtray. I placed it on the stool that had the soaps on top, and then passed Polly her ciggie.

I walked back around to the chair that was behind her ‘n admired the fire crackling. Ada came in not too long after. I left… 

Truthfully, I didn’t know why I left. 

I trudged up the stairs all the way to my room. I closed the door behind me and slid down it.

I felt like a complete piece of shit and hollow and empty. My face scrunched up in a sob, but no tears came out. There was this increasingly more painful headache forcing me to acknowledge it, and with it came anger and annoyance. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to throw stuff around. I wanted to kill Campbell for what he’s done to this family.

I wanted his blood. I wanted to slit his throat. I wanted to bite a chunk of his neck out. I wanted…

I heaved a deep breath and found it still difficult to breathe. I crawled forward on all fours with one hand supporting my weight while the other clutched my throat. I took deep breaths till finally I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I had to release these emotions inside of me. The need to punish myself became overwhelming, and my eyes flickered to the suitcase that laid under my bed. 

I shook my head. ‘I couldn’t afford any marks’ I thought. 

With my other job, my body is a tool ‘n any harm to it hinders my ability to get it done. 

So, I yanked the straps of my gown down and let it fall under my waist. Ferociously, I began to claw away at my neck, arms, and stomach. The burn. The burn was what I needed. 

And when I stopped, the pain took over but as much as it meant everything— it was also nothing. 

Slowly, I brought the straps of my gown back up to my shoulders, rose to my feet, and sauntered over to my bed. I climbed in it and just laid there while staring at the lamp that was always on at my desk. I fell asleep, eventually…

The next morning, Polly came into my room ‘n asked if I wanted to come with her to go ‘n get Michael. I felt like she wanted me to go with her, so I said I’d go. While dressing up, I was glad to see that none of the scratches I’d made scarred up. 

I made sure to dress warmly since we would be going out so early in the morning and then we headed off to pick him up. We didn’t make any conversation during the drive or as we waited for him to come out. 

But nothing— and I mean nothing, could tear my eyes away from the scarf around her neck. 

I chose to lean against the wall as we waited while Polly was pacing back ‘n forth on the pavement. When Michael walked out, the first thing I noticed was the ugly bruise on his right cheek. Then, I noticed the little cuts all around his face. The need to comfort him was strong, but he walked straight toward his mother while smoking a ciggie.

“You need cream on them cuts or they'll go bad.” Polly said to ‘em.

Michael didn’t reply. He took a drag before saying, “The screws told me why I've been freed. They told me what you did.”

Polly looked away from Michael. Her gaze found mine, and she hurriedly looked away from me too. Polly stared straight on, instead. 

“They thought it was funny.” He continued. Michael took another puff before he said. “Maybe it is.”

The urge to degrade and make someone cry had never been activated so fast in me before now. I glared at Michael as he walked away. My blood boiled with each step he took.

With my foot, I launched myself away from the wall and walked to Polly’s side. I put a hand on her shoulder and whispered. “C’mon. Let’s go. He probably needs time is all.”

Polly said nothing, but allowed me to lead her over to the car.

Michael eventually had to come home, and he had the audacity to knock at my door. Of course, I let him in but only to give him a piece of my mind. 

“Do you even know what she did?” He shouted.

“She got you out, didn’t she? Why should you care how?” I shouted back.

“She fucked Campbell to get me out. She prostituted herself!”

I pretended to process it and be shocked before I continued. “And? So fucking what? Who are you to say that it was funny, huh? Fucking bastard! Fucking ungrateful prick!” 

I wanted to put my hands on him so badly, but I resorted to punching my palms repeatedly instead. As well as folding in on myself.

I whipped my hair back and ran a hand through my hair. 

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t see anything wrong with that? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Of course there’s something wrong with that! Campbell abused his position and abused his powers. He raped your mother!”

His face fell.

I scoffed. “Did you actually think I would side with you? Oh, fuck you, Michael. I would’ve done the same for me own son and so much more. She did that out of desperation ‘n fear ‘n pure maternal love! And—! And, you threw it back ‘n her face! I mean look at you, Michael. How much more of that could you have withstood?”

“All of it! I would have taken every beating… Every fucking—!” Michael choked up and rose his fists over his eyes. 

I averted my gaze. My tongue prodded the inside of my cheek as I violently shook my right leg. I tsked before rushing toward Michael and pulled him into a hug. Weakly, he hugged me back. 

Muffled, I said. “I’m not the one who has to forgive you for the things you said, but me and you are not alright right now. And I need you to respect the fact I need some time to process and get over what you said to her. It was very insensitive and I don’t play when it comes to situations like that. I don’t care about the excuse. You should have comforted her or each other when you were given the chance.” I parted from the hug and turned around. 

I didn’t turn back around till I heard my door shut from behind me.

About a week and a half has passed since Michael’s release and we’re still not on good terms. He hasn’t apologized to Polly for what he said, so obviously I wasn’t going to just sweep that shit under the rug. Little shit would have no idea how much restraint it took to not slap him across the face!

Of course I encourage him to “get it over with” and “clear the air.” But the stubborn twat was like his mum, and he refused to do so. It was like that conversation we had went in one ear and out the other. So, I’ve just steered clear of ‘em. Pissed me off just looking at him.

Anyway, John and I went to visit Arthur in jail. He was pretty rough, but when was Arthur not? We just visited him to see him. Tommy didn’t have a plan drawn up yet. Other than that, I’ve been busy with work. Legit and side hustle alike. 

Since the coppers fucked with the inventory, Tommy needed my help with the numbers and had me running around more often. At the same time, Dom gave me hit orders every other day. 

Some of the hit orders were during the day as well! I had to run off to get that job done, then hurry back to Small Heath. I’m just lucky nobody gets on my arse. Tommy could, no doubt there, but he was busy himself and I got the job done anyway. 

I knew he had some Peaky men or juniors watching me, for my “protection.” I knew they told him what I was doing, where I was going, but they never found out what I did. I had to let Dom know what was going on at home, and he helped me get away from them. 

Was it suspicious? Short answer, yes. 

Not like I could stop the side, though. The second season was coming to an end soon and what happens on Derby Day determines if I’m staying in this family or not. I, myself, don’t even know what to expect. 

I mean, it’s obvious he’s going to sleep with Grace and knock her up. What the fuck did I even want to happen? Did I want him to just confess to me and we get together instead? Well, of course, I want that to happen! But it’s not. And I can’t even see Tommy doing something as cringy as that. Yes, cringy.

The idea of him just springing on a confession on me still made me cringe up. My feelings have never been recuperated, so if they were to finally be mutual— there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have the romantic reaction I would be hoping for. Sad truth, but what could I do? Not like I had control over what my crushes felt. 

So, basically, if Grace is pregnant— I’ll quietly go away. I haven’t brought it up to Cassie yet, but I’m planning on slumming it with her. Just for a while, I know I have enough money to buy a house of my own. I would probably get Dom to do it for me, though, since I had no idea how to do it. 

If Tom tried to find me, then I’d just hide at Dom’s place. I’m sure he’d let me. On the topic of Tom, though— I missed him. Like talking to him, bugging him, and especially seeing his face. I was being deprived of my daily dose of serotonin. It was a crime!

Despite all that, today was a night of relaxation. I’d planned to go out with my mates, but since it’d be too dangerous to go South— they had to come to me. Ridiculous, I know but Tom insisted on the idea the last time I saw him. Even though I’d been going all around the fucking country for a week and a half.

We were in the snug at the Garrison. Smoking a few cigs while sipping on our bevvies. It was a girls’ night despite the fact that Finn was here. Let him have two pints, and that was it. He was still working on his first like a good lad. 

Angie spat. “I mean who the fuck does that bitch think she is? Just because her mum is a famous pianist doesn’t mean she is too! Dumb dora doesn’t know about key or pitch to save her life.”

I raised my eyebrows and slurped my bevvy. I smacked my mouth before asking. “Hey, Ange. How are you and Horace?”

Her movements faltered and a smile crept up on her face. I gasped and my hand shot over my mouth.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, are you two finally dating? Are youse dating?” My hand flew back to Cassie’s arm and I gripped it while shaking her. She was just as excited as I was.

Angie couldn’t meet my gaze to save her life. “I-! We… Yeah, we’re dating. I, I said yes.”

All of us girls squealed and congratulated her. Internally, I was congratulating my boy, Horace. My mans was pinning after Angie since childhood and he finally got the girl. 

Even material to make a story out of, oop! Mayhaps.

She told us how it happened. They had been in a fight since her father secretly set her up on a blind date and he’d caught them as she was out. Horace didn’t blow up on them at the spot, but Angie felt compelled to follow him out the restaurant they were dining in. On the street, he aggressively professed his love and told her he couldn’t bear to beat around the bush anymore. He gave her an ultimatum, and she was thrown off by how assertive he was being. It made her heart flutter, and she confessed she felt the same. 

Another round of squeals at the table, please! Poor Finn, he had to suffer through us. His own fault for volunteering to, like, chaperone me.

The topic changed to the ball Cassie had for her 21st birthday. This happened like a couple of Fridays ago since her birthday was on the tenth of February. It was really extravagant and the theme was like a royal ball. So, we got to dress up in these really amazing ball gowns. I wore this beautiful green ball gown that was most likely akin to 16th century fashion, as one man told me. 

I wouldn’t know the exact period my dress resembled since that wasn’t my area of expertise. Glad the man knew, though!

Cassie tapped me on my arm, her face contorted in confusion. “Ali… What did we do for your birthday?”

I blinked before smiling. “Oh, we didn’t do anything.”

Her face immediately contorted in horror and she looked at Angie and Tina, which of course made me do the same. They had the same expression on their faces.

Tina raised a finger and began wagging it as she said. “Wait a minute… Did we even do something for your birthday last year?”

“Uh...no.” My eyes kept flickering between the three of them and I watched as the horror deepened in their faces.

They began showering me in apologies, and while it did comfort me— it annoyed me at the same time. ‘Like it was too late for apologies since the days already passed. So, like why sweat it now?’

The girls surrounded Ali and showered her in apologies. Finn watched from the sidelines. He saw the flicker of discomfort on Ali’s face before she began to smile. 

He knew that his family had forgotten about her past two birthdays as well, and he wanted to get something for her. But the last time he did that— he got in trouble for it. So, the best he did was wish her happy birthday. 

“Okay! Okay! We obviously just have to throw the biggest party ever to make up for them both.” Cassie said, her lips pursing as she talked. Tina and Angie nodded, but Ali sighed. 

She shook her head while clutching her forehead. “No. No, it’s alright really. My birthday passed. I don’t need anything.”

The girls dismissed her wishes, which annoyed the crap out of Ali and Finn. 

Ali rubbed her eyes roughly before waving her hands up. “Okay, okay, fine! We can have a little something. It has to be little. I’m not allowed South, so—!”

Cassie cut her off. “That’s completely alright. We can do it here like last time. You know?” She looked around the room. Tina and Angie nodded in agreement. 

Ali thought about it and just succumbed to her mates’ wishes. Ali took a breath and thought about it in a different perspective. Instead of holding onto the fact her birthdays were overlooked, she was just appreciative that they, at least, wanted to celebrate it now.

They girls talked it out and they decided they would reconvene next Friday at the Garrison. Finn was welcomed to join, and the lad was not going to miss it for anything in the world because of what they were planning.

These girls were planning to get “fucked up.” More specifically, Aliena “fucked up.” He had some idea of what that meant, and he knew he wasn’t going to like it. 

Eventually, Finn ended up asking Aliena what that meant, and she told him that her mates basically wanted to get her really drunk. He knew he wouldn’t like it. 

That week Finn, Aliena, and the girls were all just really preparing for the “doomsday.” Aliena was pumped up to have fun with her girls in her honor, and couldn’t decide what she to wear. The girls were trying to find gifts for her birthdays, you know, since they missed two of ‘em. 

While Finn, he was going through it. He was debating so hard whether or not to tell Tom. He didn’t know if he should. He usually would have, but with things being so tense lately— he really didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news or add fuel to the fire. So, he decided against it and was just glad to be invited. He also looked for a gift.

The day of the party both Finn and Aliena visited Tommy’s office. Aliena went to give him his dinner at around 5:30. She had yet to get dressed for the night, but her hair was beautifully done in waves from the braids she made the night before. She had half of it up since if it was all down— her hair would be too poofy.

Aliena knocked on Tom’s door before entering. Tom was finishing up some last minute paperwork. He didn’t tell Aliena, but he was going to Ada’s house to meet up with Grace. She’d called some weeks ago, and Tom was finally available enough to meet her. 

She rested the basket on his desk and moved a piece of her hair away from her face. “Here you go, Tommy. Have a nice night.” 

Tom picked up his head and his eyebrows wanted to furrow as he took in her appearance. Her hair was done nicely and she was wearing a nice outfit. 

Ali had on a white tank top with a sheer white long-sleeved blouse over it and wore a ribbed off-white skirt that hugged her curves. She didn’t think anything of it, but Tom sure did. 

He wondered if she got dressed up for another boy of hers, but then he realized he had no business admiring her or getting jealous. After all, he’d be meeting up with Grace in almost a half hour. 

Tom looked into Aliena’s eyes ‘n noticed she was wearing a bit of makeup and holding a vanilla folder in her hand as well. “Night, Ali.” He replied.

Ali smiled at him, gave him a nod, and knocked on his desk before spinning around on her heels. Ali was almost out the door when her hand knocked into one of the chairs and the contents of the vanilla folder went flying. Ali cursed under her breath and bent down to collect the papers from the ground.

Tom’s eyes never left her arse. Tom recognized that Aliena was blessed with well-endowed features— ample breasts and a large behind as well as thighs. He admired the way her breasts hung from her body as she had to reposition herself to get a paper that had flown under the chair. He admired the arch of her back. 

Tom realized he was acting like a pervert and resituatied himself. He silently cleared his throat and sat up straight while tugging on his pants. Aliena tapped the folder on the ground to straighten its contents before rising from her knees. 

She smiled at him, sheepishly, as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Sorry ‘bout that, Tommy. Good night.”

Tom repeated the phrase under his breath and Aliena made it out the door without a mishap. 

Finn came in not five minutes later, passing Aliena on the way to the office. He walked straight into Tom’s office. 

Tom’s head shot up and he didn’t hesitate to begin speaking, “Finn, I want you to look after Aliena tonight. I’m going over to Ada’s and I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Tom had risen from his seat as he spoke. Putting on his coat and cap. 

Tom walked over to Finn and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Alright?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah, got it.”

Tom nodded and began walking ahead of his little brother, but then turned around all of a sudden. Tom pointed toward his desk ‘n said. “Oh and eat that for me, yeah? Aliena made it so… It should be good.”

Finn chuckled and took his brother up on the offer. He’d been starving.

Aliena rushed home and practically inhaled her meal. She didn’t want to eat, but since was planning to drink till her liver bursted— she didn’t want to knock out on the third drink. After eating, she hauled the tub to her room and took a bath.

Aliena decided tonight was the night. 

She wasn’t going to wait for Tommy anymore. 

She’s been building up to it and she didn’t care anymore. Virginity was just some societal construct anyhow. Plus, she wouldn’t tell anyone but she owned a dildo in her other universe ‘n yeah… 

Aliena just assumed this body, that was very fucking different, had it’s hymen, so…

She freshened up and shaved her vagina. Not for the poor guy she was going to use, but for herself. Aliena was big on, “you like me for me or you can fuck off.”

Don’t worry Ali had her hair all tied up away from the water and when she was done— all she had to do was dry her body off.

Ali kept her towel on as she did her makeup. She kept it light and noir like she did for the Garrison’s reopening. After makeup, she slid on her dress. The best Ali could describe it was a loose body con dress that had ruffles that reminded her of a curtain. It was sky blue ‘n fit with the times. 

Ali took down her hair once she was done putting on her dress. She tried her best to keep her waves, but they had ultimately lost most of their volume throughout the day. Aliena tried to not let it bother her. She put on her heels, grabbed a matching clutch, and her white fur coat. 

Aliena walked over to Finn’s room ‘n knocked on his door, asking if he was ready. He didn’t answer from his room, but from downstairs. Aliena hurried down the flight of stairs, joined their arms once she was down, and then they were on their way to the Garrison. 

Isaiah met them on the way, which was a pleasant surprise. Finn had invited him along ‘n of course Aliena wouldn’t mind. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, and she figured it was due to the business. 

Aliena was escorted with two men around her arms to the Garrison and she chatted with them the whole way. She was all smiles and it warmed both the men’s hearts. More so Finn than Isaiah. 

When they got to the pub, they instantly walked to the snug. They quickly seated themselves down ‘n got comfy. Isaiah ordered their bevvies from the window and they were served not too long after. 

The gang couldn’t have gotten there not twenty minutes later. Their hands were occupied with gifts ‘n the boys were carrying the cake. Aliena couldn’t feel more loved ‘n appreciated. She greeted her mates with kisses and hugs ‘n thanked them for the party. 

Aliena ended up thanking Douglas and Horace for showing up and for their gifts separately since she wasn’t expecting them. First manner of business was the birthday cake. Horace revealed this magnificent simple cake that had twenty candles around it.  

Ali couldn’t stop covering her face as she smiled. She tried reeling in her emotions, but she never could act “right” when people sang her happy birthday. For her birthday wish, she wished that she’d continue on working on her happiness. 

Before having a piece of cake, Aliena opened her presents. Cassie gave her another set of expensive jewelry that was to die for! Ali loved it! Douglas gave Aliena a new pair of shoes, a clutch, and a purse. While it wasn’t to die for, Aliena appreciated it since after all he didn’t even ask her what she wanted. It was ballsy to get a gift for Ali without talking to her first since her face usually gave her true thoughts away.

She’s worked on that since she was young, but sometimes it will show. Hasn’t happened yet, but doesn’t mean it won’t.

Angie gave Aliena more designer clothing while Horace bought her a typewriter. She absolutely gushed over their gifts, especially the typewriter. Tina’s present was Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, Little Women, Romeo and Juliet, and The Picture of Dorian Gray. Aliena loved the fact that Tina gave her books. Truth be told, she hasn’t really read a book unless they were someone else’s. 

Isaiah didn’t have a gift, so we can skip over him. Finn, on the hand, did. Ali was a little apprehensive about it since last time he got her a gift, he would’ve caught a charge if he was anyone else. It was a big box, too. Aliena shook the lid off the box to find a box of items packed inside. There were about five different shades of lipstick, two bottles of perfume, and a whole lot of makeup. 

Ali couldn’t help but be in awe at the gift. She hugged Finn and thanked him for something so wonderful ‘n thoughtful. Finn was able to let go of the breath he was holding and felt extremely happy that she loved her gift. Swear, the boy had a smile for a majority of the night.

The minute Aliena was done opening her gifts, the real party began. Finn watched as Aliena and her mates took shot after shot after shot. He participated a bit himself, but out of conditioning from Aliena— he took his time. Isaiah was faring no better. He’d received the same order as Finn. His sole duty tonight was to protect Aliena ‘n the way she was drinking— he had a bad feeling something was gonna happen.

Eventually they made their way out of the snug ‘n began dancing more freely. Isaiah expertly manipulated Ali into only dancing with their mates. The minute she tried catching the eye of literally anyone else, he’d step in. 

Out in the city, he had no problem with who she danced with or who she made out with. In Small Heath, his and every other person’s eyes were at stake. But more importantly, his eyes were at stake!

Truthfully, Aliena wasn’t actually drunk— she was buzzed! But, she wasn’t drunk. She was mimicking Cassie’s behavior, who was on a completely different level drunkenness than her. She did it in a sense of solidarity and recklessness. She felt that since they were celebrating her birthday, since it was her night— she should be able to act freely. Especially when she was trapped in Birmingham per Tommy’s orders. 

Aliena was getting bored with just dancing and began to sing. She sang ‘Ain't No Other Man’ by Christina Aguliera. At first, it was just the mates who were aware that she was singing, but then other patrons heard her voice. Aliena was lifted in the air by a particularly strong ‘n tall patron and he set her down on the bar top. 

Aliena “under the influence” began to sing as clearly as she could and belt as loud as she could, as much in tune as she could manage. 

Not like they would know if she butchered the song or not.

Finn, who watched all of this go down, had enough. In his opinion, Aliena had gotten out of control ‘n it was out of his hands. So, he decided to get the big guns involved.

His senses were filled with her. Her perfume, the texture of her dress, the taste of her lips and the feeling of pressing them against his own. 

So, what had changed for him?

Tom wondered why her kiss didn’t set him aflame like it did months ago. 

“Tommy. Tommy, do you have someone?” She asked him. 

Tom kissed Grace again. 

“It's too late, Tommy.”

“It's 11:00, Grace.”

“I mean, it's too late. If you'd come with me to New York...”

“I had things to do.” He kissed her again, searching for that feeling. That feeling of completion and—! And wholeness.

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?”

“It couldn’t have worked. That was the question.” Their lips met once more ‘n fiercer this time ‘round.

Grace parted from the kiss and breathily asked. “Tommy… Tommy, do you have someone?”

‘Yes?’ He thought as the memory of Aliena looking back at him at the park flashed in his mind. Tom took a deep breath. “I have a racehorse. She’s gonna win the Derby.” He said. Tom joined their lips again and this time— they didn’t part after a few seconds.

Tom was desperately seeking that feeling of passion, but he figured he was gettin’ into his own head by rushing it. So, he took it slow. Grace slipped down the sleeves of her dress, and it hardly did anything for him.

It aroused him, of course, but—! It wasn’t the same. It was akin to the times he’s laid with a prostitute. 

‘You’re getting in your head, Tom. The feeling will come back. Take your time.’ He told himself. He led her backward toward the couch, his lips never parting from hers. 

The more time he spent kissing her, the more that pit in his stomach grew. 

That feeling wasn’t coming back. 

Tom trailed down to her neck, and he paid attention to Grace there before going back to her lips.

‘Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! Give it some fuckin’ time, man!’

Then by the grace of God, the phone started going off. Tom parted from the kiss ‘n Grace’s hands flew to his face.

“Let it ring.” She rasped while trying to pull his face back to hers.

Tom never averted his gaze from the phone ‘n it didn’t stop ringing either. Annoyed, he got up from the couch and walked over to the telephone.

Tom had barely gotten the address out when Finn’s voice cut through the phone. “Tom, Tommy, are you there?”

“Finn, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” Panic overwhelmed his being and Tom began buttoning up his shirt.

The pub could be heard through the phone and Tom swore he could hear Aliena, but he thought he was just imagining it. 

Finn cleared his throat. “Uh, Tom, it’s Ali. She’s kinda going outta control right now.”

“You are there when I'm a mess

Talk me down from every ledge

Give me strength, boy, you're the best!

You're the only one who's ever passed every test!” 

Aliena’s belting could be heard from over the phone ‘n Tom sighed, exhaustedly. 

Finn continued. “She’s dancing and singing on top of the bar at the Garrison. I just—! I don’t know. I thought you should know. I don’t know what to do! Do I just let ‘er or—?”

Tom exhaled deeply as he rubbed his forehead. “Finn, all right, calm down. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Get her off the fucking bar top ‘n make sure she doesn’t do anything else.” He hung up the phone, turned around, and faced Grace.

She looked confused with her eyebrows drawn together and Tom was half surprised to see that her dress was still down. 

“Tommy,” She began. “What’s happened?”

Tom blinked before replying, “I, uh, I have to head back to Birmingham.”

“What?” She asked softly as she rose to her feet and slipped her sleeves back over her shoulders. 

Tom began putting his coat on as he said. “I can drive you, if you’d like, or you can call a Taxi.”

Grace scoffed while shaking her head. “You're serious, Tom?”

Tom looked at her like she stated the obvious and gave her a curt nod. “Yeah.”

Grace’s jaw dropped a little as did her head. She picked up her head, steeled her gaze, and stood up straighter. “I can find my own way back.”

He nodded again before motioning her to follow him out the door. 

The night didn’t go as he’d planned. But he had more important things to worry about. 

‘Fucking Aliena!’

Aliena was just glad she was able to finish her song before Finn and Isaiah pried her off the bar top. She had her little moment ‘n that’s all that mattered to her. ‘Cause she managed to get the attention of most of the lads in the pub.

Some were just staring at her from afar while others actually walked up to her. But they only managed to get a few words in before they were run off by Isaiah. At first it was cute. Yes, Aliena thought it was cute that Isaiah was scaring off the blokes that approached her— but then it got annoying. 

Why? Because he was ruining her fucking plan to lose her viriginity tonight!

“I’ma tell ya right now, mate. You either piss off or you’re losing your eyes, which one are you gonna pick?” Isaiah threatened the man in front of him.

The man scoffed and was about to say something when Isaiah reached up for his peaky cap.

“One...” Isaiah said ‘n that was all it took for the bloke to run off. 

  Aliena scoffed as she tried to look over Isaiah’s shoulder only to catch a glimpse of the guy running off. Aliena groaned and roughly shoved Isaiah in the chest. “The fuck are you doing, Saiah!” She shouted.

Isaiah raised his hands in surrender. “Look I’m sorry, Ali. All right, I’m sorry.”                              

Aliena’s face contorted in confusion and her head shook. “No, what the fuck is going on! You’ve never done this before, so what the ‘ell is up?”

Isaiah sighed and looked all around the room. He debated tellin’ her the truth or not, and he decided it would be easier if she just knew what was up. “Look, Ali… I can’t let any bloke in here have a go at you, all right?”

Her face didn’t change. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? The fuck you mean ‘you can’t let me’? Who’s...” Her voice trailed off as did her gaze.

‘No way!’ She thought. ‘There’s just no fucking way!’

Aliena huffed. “Di-Did Tommy—! Does Thomas have something to do with this?”

Isaiah nodded. He hesitantly said. “Tom… He ‘n the family ordered a long time ago that no one in Birmingham is allowed to have a go at ya. They’re not even allowed to accept a confession from you. And any Peaky Blinder who tries to disobey or not try ‘n help ya if you’re in danger, or knew about it ‘n let it happen— gets their eyes and tongues cut.”

Aliena was taken back by the rule. Some part of her was in awe that Tommy cared that much for her while the other was annoyed that he was. 

Why the fuck did he have to go ‘n do that? Why the fuck was he preventing her from going out with guys when he had no intention of going out with her himself? It was fucking ridiculous!

Her nose wrinkled in her anger before she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Aliena took a deep breath before clapping her hands in front of her. “Okay, Saiah! You have two options. One, you either keep on carrying out this ridiculous order Tom have you ‘n you’ll have to face my wrath. Or two, you call it a night and get out of my fucking way. So, what is it gonna be one or two?”

Isaiah didn’t hesitate. “Two.”

Ali raised her hand for a high-five, which Saiah reciprocated. “Good man.” Aliena said before walking off, on the prowl. 

It took sometime before the men in the pub realized Isaiah was no longer lurking around Aliena and began approaching her again. Aliena was picky when choosing the man she wanted to lose her virginity to. After all, what’s the point of doing it if she wasn’t going to enjoy it? She wanted a man she could look at and be aroused from. 

She was lucky enough to find one sitting at the bar when she walked over to get another drink. His name was Robert, last name unknown since she didn’t care for it. They made small talk, but Aliena wasn’t looking to get to know him. She just wanted to make sure she could get wet. 

And she found that she could, as she began imagining all the positions he could put her in. 

Tommy kept intruding on her imagination— hijacking her scenarios, but she’d just close her eyes ‘n take a moment. The next time she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Aliena brought her bevvy up to her mouth and took a sip before shoving Robert’s shoulder for something  he said. 

Unbeknownst to her, Tom had walked into the pub deadset on finding her. And that didn’t take very long. Tom witnessed Aliena’s little interaction firsthand. She was sitting on top of the bar top while flirting with some random fucking bloke. He didn’t know what infuriated him more.  

The fact that someone dared to go against his orders, or that she was flirting with someone in front of his face. 

Tom’s jaw dropped a little and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. He closed his mouth and nodded before he made a beeline for Aliena. As he grew closer, she’d finally noticed him. A smile on her face was quickly wiped off as Tom walked right up to her, tugged her off the top ‘n threw her over his shoulder.

Ali gasped and exclaimed. “What—!”

Tom hiked her further up his shoulder before spinning around and making his way toward the door. “Shut up, Ali.”

“--the fuck are you doing!”

Tom had no intention of letting her down. He feared she’d just talk her way out of it, or try to fucking run away. Tom was gonna give her the lecture of a lifetime whether she liked it or not. He wasn’t going to let her get the chance to go back to her mates and cause more embarrassment for herself. 

Aliena was shouting at Tom to let her down. She was pounding on his shoulder as an extra measure, but it wasn’t like she was doin’ it hard either. The pounding resembled more like knocking or somethin’.

Eventually, Aliena huffed and just let herself be carried to wherever he was taking her. From the streets he was walking, Ali soon realized they were going to his flat. She tsked and tried to support her head up. 

When they reached his front door, Tom hiked her up on his shoulder again before reaching for his keys. 

Aliena rolled her eyes as she muttered. “I can walk on my own two feet, you know.”

Tom ignored her as he struggled to get his door unlocked and open. It was difficult with a body over his shoulders, but he did it. The minute he walked through the door— he let Ali down. 

As she regained her footing, Tom locked the door behind him. Ali stabilized herself rather quickly and threw her head back with an overexaggerated groan as she stomped away from Tom ‘n toward the stairs.

Tom turned back ‘round and shouted. “Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Ali rolled her eyes and faced him. A hip dropped as she said. “To bed.”

He shook his head. “No.” Tom walked right up to her face and repeated. “No. We’re going to talk about the little show you put on at the pub. Huh?”

Ali averted her gaze from him and began shaking her leg.

Tom grabbed her chin and made her face him. “Huh? What the fuck was that t’night?”

Aliena couldn’t tell ya a blag. What he did went straight to her cunt and the fact she was looking to fuck tonight— did not help her case at all.

Tom released her chin and waited for Aliena to answer.

She sighed and waved her left arm out before letting it drop to her side. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about, Tom.”

He scoffed.

“I DON’T... know what you’re talking about ‘cause all I was doing was having some fun with my mates. That’s all.” 

Tom shook his head. “No, that’s not all. You got on that bar top and sang and danced. You got drunk ‘n started making a fool of yourself.”

Aliena tsked, rolling her eyes, and throwing her head back. “I wasn’t fucking drunk.”

“Yeah fucking right!”

Aliena looked at him in disbelief. “You know what! You weren’t even fucking there, so I don’t even know how the fuck you knew about what I was doing, by the way! Don’t tell me you had another Peaky Blinder looking after me. ‘Cause that’d mean you sicked three people on me tonight, and I’d want to know the fucking reason for that too. ”

“Finn phoned me, worried about ya. And I did not sick three people on you tonight. I only told Finn to look after you.”

Aliena sighed deeply at the news, her eyes rolling again. A hand came up to her forehead and she rubbed it. “Finn...” She whispered. “Of fucking course, that goddamn kid.” Aliena didn’t even look at Tom again. Instead, she waved him off as she turned around while walking toward the staircase. 

“And where do you think you’re going, Ali? We’re not done here!” He shouted as he watched her climb the stairs. His gaze naturally falling on her arse. 

She craned her head back a little as she replied. “Yes, we fucking are. Both of our emotions are high right now. There’ll be no moving forward in this conversation. So good night, Tom.” 

Tom shook his head, his pointer finger running over his bottom lip. Angrily, he ripped off his coat, and threw both it and his cap on his sofa. He marched up the stairs as he shouted for Aliena.

Dumbly, Ali was deciding which room she wanted to bunk in for the night, and it allowed Tom just enough time to catch up with her. He grabbed her by the crook of her arm and pulled her into his room. He threw her into it, to which she cried out. 

“Jesus Christ, Tommy!” She yelled. 

None of this was helping, by the way. This roughness he was handling her with. Yeah, she liked this! So, he wasn’t winning in the slightest.

His eyes were blown wide, and his hands were on his hips. With the wave of his finger, he asked. “Yeah ‘n who the fuck was that who you were talkin’ too? Eh!”

Aliena squeezed her hands into fists before letting them relax as she stifled her groan. “God, Tommy! Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Who was he, Aliena! I want a fucking name!”

“I DON’T KNOW! Okay? He’s name was Robert and that’s all I know.” She yelled louder than Tom, which was making his blood boil more. Aliena clapped her hands and with finger guns, she began. “You know fucking what? Answer my fucking question, Tom. Why the fuck do you care? Huh?”

Aliena inched closer to him, and making Tom stand up straighter, slightly.

“Why the fuck did you have your men scare away other men away from me? Explain it to me.”

Tom chuckled, humorlessly. “For your own protection, sweetheart.”

She shook her head. “No. I would’ve believed you if you only ordered them to maim anyone who tried assaulting me. That would make it believable. But to put a city wide order that I was not to be fucking approached in the slightest! That even if I went up to them, they better run the other fucking direction unless they wanted to lose their eyes! No… Fucking no. So, tell me, Thomas. What the fuck is up?” 

Aliena was standing directly under Tom. She could hear his heavy breathing with clarity. He didn’t respond. She scoffed and walked away from him further into the room. 

By the grace of “intoxication,” Aliena felt like she was finally bold enough. She was going to blame it on the alcohol. If what she was about to do, backfired on her— she’d deny, deny, deny.

Tom watched as Ali walked away from him before facing him. The air about her was different. She didn’t look angry and annoyed anymore; she looked like she was on a mission. It was attractive. Seductive. Arousing.

Aliena’s fingertips trailed up her arm, an eyebrow raised as she said. “You wanna know why I was even talking to Robert, Thomas.” Her fingertips grazed up her left shoulder and across her collarbone. “It’s because I intended on fucking him.” Her voice trailed off at the end.

Tom’s head snapped up and he looked at her straight in the eyes, flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. 

‘She—! She was gonna what?’

Aliena giggled, humorlessly, as she took in Tommy’s expression. Her fingertips stopped her dance as she did so. Ali composed herself rather quickly ‘n she continued. “I was going to fuck him...” She shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips as she said. “To finally get over you.”

Aliena cocked her head to the side and waited for his reaction. Tom shuffled his stance and tucked his hands into his pockets. He could feel his eyes glaze over and lust creep on him as Aliena teasingly had a single fingernail under the strap of her dress.

Aliena looked away before looking back at him. “So, there it is, Tommy. I said it. Now, you have two options. You either walk out that door, or...” Aliena attempted to look sexual as she slipped both of the straps of her dress down her shoulders ‘n let it fall to the ground. 

Tom gulped at the sight of her. Her bare breasts. The sight of her in nothing but her panties.

“You fuck me.” She finished, fixing her posture. 

Truthfully, she was trembling in anxiety. She hoped to God she wasn’t making a fool of herself.

Tom had to internally fight his demons and he needed to do it quickly, out of respect for her. It was a whole lot of, “should he” or “should he not.” But then, Aliena just had to trail her fingertip down her neck again with this far-off gaze and he knew his choice.

Tom rushed toward Aliena and captured her lips, hungrily. Aliena couldn’t help but gasp happily. Her mouth opening wide. Tom didn’t waste the opportunity to shove his tongue inside. He made her walk backward toward the wall. The pace caused Ali to be shoved into the wall. The pain that erupted in her back made her moan into his mouth. 

Tom’s hands trailed up from her waist all the way to her breasts and he squeezed them eagerly. Almost wantonly, Ali gasped with a smile again as she arched her back into Tom’s hands.

This… This is what Tom was talking about. This passion, this feeling of completion! This was it!

Tom parted from her lips which made her pant for air. He pressed kisses on the side of her mouth, her cheek, before peppering her neck with them. Aliena’s fingers found Tommy’s hair and she found herself pressing him closer against her neck. 

‘So, she feels it here...’ He thought.

Tom increased his antics. Nipping, sucking, and kissing her neck all over. While Aliena wasn’t moaning, she was panting ‘n gasping as if she couldn’t breath. Hitching as if she were in pain. 

Tom left her neck and lowered himself down to her breasts. He rolled her left nipple in his mouth while still kneading her right breast. When he decided to tug on her nipple with his teeth, he tugged on her right nipple with his fingers. Aliena gasped and yanked Tom’s hair as she arched her back into him further.

“Tommy...” She rasped. “I—! Please.” 

Mentally, it hurt her to plead like this. It sent her cheeks aflame, and she would’ve hid her face in embarrassment if she wasn’t feeling so much pleasure from running her fingers through his hair.

As Tom moved to her right tit, he shushed her and whispered against her skin. “Patience, love.”

Aliena’s breath hitched once more as Tom nibbled on her nipple, her thighs rubbed together. It did nothing, but allow her to get some pent up energy out of her. 

Tom let go of her right nipple with one last tug before he rose up a little to begin marking up the space above her breasts. Aliena giggled at him.

“So, are you a tits man, then, Tommy?” She asked breathily, a giggle at the end of her sentence.

Tom stopped sucking on a particular spot on her chest as he began to smile. He picked his head up and pecked her lips repeatedly. “Yours. I’ve. Been. Wanting to. Do this. To yours.”

Aliena’s hands had slid down to his face and she stroked his cheek lovingly. She parted from their pecks and whispered. “Who am I to deny you, then?”

Tom stared into her eyes before hooking his hands in the crooks of her knees and carrying her. Ali yelped and wrapped her arms around his neck before going into a giggling fit. Tom walked over to his bed and plopped her down on it. 

Aliena bounced as a result. Tom hurriedly back to yank his clothes off and cursed himself for wearing so many accessories. While Tom was working on taking off his shirt sleeve garters, Ali had scooted herself down the bed and worked on getting his belt off.

The whole situation was laughable, so Tom began to laugh— which made Aliena laugh. Once Tom got the bloody things off, Aliena had already thrown aside his belt and unzipped his pants. Tom bent down and tried to kiss Aliena. 

She realized what he was trying to do ‘n met him halfway by standing on her knees. Grateful that she allowed him to bend less, he continued working on unfastening the buttons on his vest ‘n shirt while slipping off his shoes. He took off his shoes, stepped out of his pants, and kicked them both away while throwing his vest and button up off his shoulders. 

The pair broke their kiss to let Tommy yank off his under shirt. Tom found her lips once more as he slowly climbed on top of her and hovered above her on his bed. After a minute or two more of kissing, he parted and asked against her lips. “Are you sure you want this, Aliena? We can stop right now.”

Ali stared into Tommy’s eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. She nodded her head. “I want you, Tommy. It’s always been you.”

They stared into each other’s eyes a bit longer before Tom’s head ducked down and began trailing deep kisses all the way down to her groin where the hem of her panties lied. He placed kisses along the hem as he hooked his fingers into the side of the band, and slowly slid them down. 

Aliena’s eyes were closed shut and she was fisting the blankets of his bed. She flinched at every kiss he placed closer and closer to her cunt. 

Tom licked a long stripe upward toward Ali’s clit as he slid her panties down her legs entirely. Ali whimpered as her hips bucked. Tom couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his mouth. Aliena was biting her bottom lip so harshly that she was afraid it would split. 

Tom spread her pussy and started off slow before working his way toward violently flicking her clit with his tongue and sucking on it. Aliena still didn’t allow her moans to escape her, instead, only letting out whimpers, gasps, and pants. 

Aliena’s thighs clamped around Tom’s ears, but that didn’t stop him. Hell, it couldn’t even stop him from hearing her little mewls. 

Ali felt that familiar build up growing in the pit of her stomach, and her hand flew to Tom’s hair. “Tommy, I’m close!” She said. “Stop, please. I don’t wanna... without ya...”

Tom didn’t stop, in fact, he worked her faster. “Go on.” He rasped. “Come.”

Aliena’s hands flew to her face as her face contorted in pure pleasure. Tom didn’t like that. She was blocking the view. Ali threw her head back and finally let out an audible moan. Her hips wildly bucked against Tom’s mouth and chin, and he let her ride out her climax. 

He let go of her with a pop and a hiss. Tom took a deep breath, trying to catch it before sliding a finger along her opening. Aliena’s hands had fallen to the sides of her head. An uncontrollable smile on her face. She outstretched her arms and whispered, lovingly. “Tommy...”

Tom felt his heart swell and without stopping his teasing— he leaned toward her and kissed her as she wanted.

Aliena didn’t mind the taste of herself on his lips, she was used to it. Having been a chronic masturbator. Ali tugged on Tom’s bottom lip and when she finally let go, she coquettishly whispered. “Fuck me, Tommy, please. I’m ready.”

Tom’s eyes looked over her face and he chuckled. He pecked her lips before replying, “No, it’s your first time, Ali. I won’t be rough with you. This time.”

Ali’s mouth stretched upward into a smile and she bit her lip. “Promise?”

As Tom finally slipped a finger inside her— making her gasp, he rubbed his nose against hers, replying, “I promise.”

Tom slowly pumped his finger in and out of Ali, and truthfully, the girl felt nothing. She’s teased her hole with her fingers loads of times. So, it was just a foreign feeling. But for the sake of seemingly “innocent,” she began panting a little.

Tom added a second finger and then a third— and that’s when she felt something. Her pants turned real and she wondered if he had to add the third finger so that she could accommodate to his size. She still hadn’t seen him. 

Meanwhile, Tom was handling his delayed satisfaction just fine. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, so he was lucky enough to just be able to focus on making this the best experience for Aliena as possible. When he felt that her pussy was sucking his fingers in, instead of trying to push them out— he removed them. 

Aliena moaned and looked up at Tom. Tom misinterpreted her gaze as her being scared and was quick to reassure her that everything would be alright. In reality, Aliena was just startled that her pleasure had been taken away from her.

She never thought she’d get off on fingers. She thought it was impossible for her. 

‘You really do need someone else’s fingers.’ She thought.

Tom pulled down his boxers and kicked them away. He was about to gather her wetness when Ali took his hand and pulled it toward her mouth. She gathered the saliva in her mouth and let it fall down onto his hand. His cock throbbed in his hand at the action. 

He couldn’t believe that she’d be this tempting. 

Tom lathered his cock in Ali’s spit and pumped his cock a few times, hissing at the pleasure he gave himself before lining up to Aliena’s entrance. Tommy hovered above her and took his free hand, and interlocked it with hers. 

“You ready?” He asked once more.

Aliena nodded. “Yes, yes, please...”

Tom kissed Ali as he slowly entered her. Ailena moaned from the sensation. Tommy began littering the side of her mouth and cheek with kisses. They both groaned when he was fully sheathed inside her. Her walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing him tightly. 

Made him grunt from the sensation. 

Aliena wasn’t in pain, but it has certainly been awhile since a cock has been inside her. Not to mention, she was still pretty sure this body was a virgin. There was no pain, but there was a lot of pressure. She couldn’t tell if he was big or not.

Aliena just felt very “full” and “satisfied.”

“Move, Tommy.” She rasped.

Tom breathily chuckled. “I can’t. You haven’t gotten used to it, yet.”

Aliena gripped his chin and made him face her. “Tommy, move slowly. I want to feel you.”

How the fuck could he deny that?

Slowly, Tom began moving his hips. He’d pull out just enough so his tip won’t fall out and then slide all the way back in. Ali whimpered at the feeling, but after enough times— she found herself wanted more. So, she vocalized it.

“Faster, Tommy.” 

Tom complied to her wishes and began thrusting faster. He found himself admiring this whole situation. Intoxicated on the feeling he’d been missing from… Yeah.  It was Ali. He’d fallen in love with Ali. 

Tom was taking in every reaction she had. With her legs wrapped around his waist, her breasts bouncing softly with each thrust, and her face contorted in pleasure. She couldn’t hide since their fingers were interlocked. 

Tom’s breath began to waiver as pants and grunts escaped his lips. He picked up the pace to which Ali couldn’t hold back her moans anymore. This only encouraged Tom to go even faster. 

“Fuck, Tommy! Yes!”

Ali was unsure of what she was feeling. She couldn’t tell if she was climbing toward her big O, or if she was getting off on pleasing him. She actually never orgasmed when using her dildo, but this was different. Sex with Tommy was different, of course it was, and that’s what threw her off. 

It wasn’t till Ali began bucking her hips upward did she realize she was really feeling it. Ali admired Tom’s blissed out face. She was doing this to him, and it absolutely gave her an ego boost. 

They were meeting each other’s thrust so roughly that all you could hear was skin slapping against skin along with the sloppy wet sound coming from Aliena’s pussy. It fueled them both with more lust for one another. 

Aliena felt that pit in her stomach again and she cried out as did Tom since her pussy tightened around his cock. He was so close and her tightening didn’t help at all. 

“Tommy, I’m clo—!”

Tom slammed his lips on hers before reaching down with one hand and began rubbing her clit. Aliena’s hips stuttered, her legs trembled, and her grip on Tommy’s hand turned iron. Tom pounded into her cunt, overwhelmed with pleasure. Aliena’s squeal as she came was muffled by Tom’s kiss. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her back arched into his chest. 

Tom wasn’t too far behind. He parted from the kiss and looked up at the ceiling as he came. Strained pants escaped him as he rode out their highs. Tom hiked Aliena’s legs up and got incredibly deeper which made Aliena giggle and sigh.  

Ali was surprised at how fucking nice it felt to be came inside of, but she loved every minute of it. Ali was the one to capture Tom’s lips this time and when she parted, she asked.

“You down for a round two?”

Tommy chuckled as he rested his forehead against her own. “Why the fuck not!”

Aliena gasped as he flipped them over with her now on top. Aliena laughed breathily and steadied herself by placing both of her hands on Tom’s chest. Tom was taken back at how sexy she was above him.

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729​ @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero​ @thatweirddaydreamer​ @xxbeckybeexx-blog​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @well-hydratedpvssy​ @the-jess-life @babaohhhriley @7shadesofharold​ @melissamaine​ @urbankaite2

[tiny-slasher]

Billy Lenz x Reader | Therapy Intruder

My friend and I came up with the dumb idea of Billy just busting into the reader’s therapy session, and just...not leaving. That’s all.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

When you'd begun therapy you were skeptical of its effectiveness, but to your surprise, it had proven itself useful. While you were not making progress as swiftly as you would've preferred, you'd finally picked up on the slight improvements in your speech and mannerisms. Your hands no longer shook quite so violently, and you could maintain eye contact just a tiny bit longer before it grew uncomfortable. The fear of disappointing your therapist was always there, in the back of your mind, but she always smiled so warmly at you. Sometimes, you found yourself opening up to her a bit more, and when you didn't, she never pushed you.

Finally, after so many sessions, you'd finally begun to feel like it had all been worth it. Some days were still horrible, but you found yourself smiling more during the better ones.

Still...it wasn't easy.

"You remember what I told you when you first came in here?" your therapist asked.

You frowned, unsure what she meant.

"I told you that therapy gives you the tools you need to cope, and that it's up to you to use them."

You sighed, remembering. It felt like so long ago.

"You've been doing very well. Even small progress is progress," she smiled at you.

"I just thought I'd be farther along by now, is all," you murmured.

"When you set unrealistic expectations for yourself, and for others, you will more often than not be disappointed," she said. "This isn't a game you can win or lose, and slower progression doesn't equal failure."

"I know..." you said. "I just-"

Your heart lept into your throat when the door slammed open, rattling the painting hanging on the wall beside it.

"Billy, your session isn't for another fifteen minutes. Will you wait outside, please?" your therapist hadn't so much as flinched at the intrusion.

Shock overrode your anxiety as you stared at the man. He was fairly tall, with fluffy, brunette hair, and a somewhat outdated fashion sense. His brown eyes zeroed in on you, piercing your soul like a sword. His lack of expression revealed absolutely nothing, while he stood eerily still in the doorway.

"I want to come in now."

Warmth filled your belly from the deep tone of his voice, a bit hoarse as it met your ears. You tore your gaze away from his, discomfort finally catching up with you. Yet, there was a telling prickle on the back of your neck as he continued to stare at you.

"I'm with someone else, right now," your therapist calmly explained. "You need to wait your turn."

"I want to come in now."

Your therapist leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, how you wished you could've been anywhere else during the silence that followed. The sound of Billy's shuffling was extremely loud- almost as loud as your heartbeat. You swallowed just as he let out a loud, impatient sigh.

"You need to wait outside. Just for a few more minutes, alright?"

Your shoulders eased when the door slammed shut, until some air caressed the side of your face as Billy took a seat next to yours. You heard a sigh from your therapist as she told him that he needed to leave, but neither you nor Billy were really listening.

His eyes were no longer looking at you, but down at his hands as he picked at his fingernails. Still, your neck prickled, and you suspected he was watching you very intently from his peripherals. His face was still blank, almost eerily so.

"Billy, you can't sit in on someone else's session-"

"Can't sit! Can't sit!" Billy blurted out, sharply turning to you. "You should leave."

His eyes glanced down to see your mouth open in incredulity, a bit frightened by his outburst. He winced.

"Billy! Out!" your therapist sharply, but calmly asserted.

His knuckled grew white as his fingers dug into his palms, trembling in what appeared to be frustration. You knew how hard it could be to show up to therapy sometimes, but it was even worse if you were early and had to wait. Fifteen minutes might not seem like such a great length of time, but you knew that it felt like years when you had something on your mind.

"It's alright, I'll just cut it short today," you said, standing. "It's just fifteen minutes."

Billy's eyes widened as he watched you. His breathing was heavy, while his mouth was shut in a tight, thin line.

"You can talk about a lot in fifteen minutes," your therapist frowned.

There was a bewildered expression on Billy's face as you glanced back at him, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah...you can," you said.

As you shut the door, you heard Billy quietly say, "Yeah, you can."

~*~

You were early to your next session, having to sit in one of the waiting room chairs outside of your therapist's office. You briefly mulled over what you wanted to talk about, trying not to dwell too long on those thoughts. Otherwise, you'd risk overanalyzing everything, and just giving yourself more unneeded stress.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you almost didn't notice someone sit down in the chair beside you.

Curious to see who would choose to sit so close, despite all of the other empty seats in the room, you turned to see the man who'd interrupted your last session - Billy. He was facing down at his hands once again, his eyes frantically glancing over you every now and then. Unsure what to say, you just adjusted in your seat and went back to your thoughts.

"Hello, Billy!" the receptionist greeted, giving Billy a warm smile.

"Hello," he replied gruffly, turning to them.

"Do you want any candy?" they asked, gesturing to the small bowl in front of them.

"Got any red ones?" Billy asked, getting up and walking over.

"I think I see a few."

Clearly, Billy had been seeing your therapist longer than you had. Or maybe, he was just more sociable than you were... While the receptionist had greeted you when you walked in, she didn't do so quite so familiarly. And while that didn't bother you, it made you wonder just how long Billy had been in therapy.

Your therapist walked into the room as Billy grabbed a lollipop and shoved it in his mouth. She greeted you, and then him, to which he replied by loudly slurping on his candy. She just smiled, almost endearingly, and then gestured you to follow her for your session.

You passed by Billy as you made your way to the door, and jumped when you felt what you could only assume was his hand on your wrist. However, when you turned to him, he wasn't facing you. He was staring down at the bowl of candy in front of him, his expression blank and distant.

"You coming?" your therapist asked.

"Yeah...sorry," you replied, spinning on your heel and following her again.

Later, when your therapy session had ended, your therapist had asked you to tell Billy that it was his turn.

You found Billy standing at the window, still sucking on a lollipop. He immediately turned to you when you opened the door, both eyes burning into yours. You swallowed, feeling bare, and made your way to him.

"Uh...it's your turn."

Billy stared at you for a long moment, and then held out a lollipop, "Want one?"

You blinked, taken aback, "U-uh..."

Instead of waiting for an answer, Billy shoved the lollipop into your hand.

His hand lingered a bit too long on yours, his grip firm, and his eyes staring into yours. It was near impossible for you to look away from them, until you felt his fingers run across the back of your hand. You gently pulled away, thanking him, and then left.

You didn't notice the way he watched you.

~*~

The same thing happened the next few weeks.  You hadn't intended on showing up early again, but life had other plans, and it would appear Billy was dealing with a similar dilemma.

On one particular day, he chose the seat beside yours once again, despite you sitting in a different spot. He leaned back in his seat, this time, drumming his fingers against the armrests. It only took a moment for you to smell his cologne, which you were positive he hadn't been wearing the last two times you'd seen him.

"Do you like it? It's Brut," he said, answering your unspoken question.

"Uh, yeah it's nice!" you nodded, taken aback. "It suits you."

"U-uh yeah, it suits you," Billy replied, in tone eerily similar to yours, and then shook his head. "Sorry."

"Oh, it's alright," you assured him.

"...It bothers most people," his face contorting.

"Well, it doesn't bother me," you assured him.

“It...doesn’t?” 

You shook your head, “No. Why would it?”

"Why would it- SHUT UP, BILLY!"

You jumped at the sudden harshness in his tone, and were a bit frightened by the dull, haunted look in his eyes. They were cold, and angry, but were directed inward towards himself.

"STUPID BILLY, YOU'RE CRAZY! SHUT THE HELL UP!" he yelled in a voice that sounded nothing like his own, before slamming his mouth shut.

Abruptly, he stood and strutted over to the candy bowl at the front desk. The receptionist was watching him, but didn't seem too surprised. Billy grabbed a lollipop from the bowl, almost toppling it over, and then shoved it into his mouth with the wrapper still on. His cheeks were red as he turned back to face you, eyes not meeting yours when he went to sit back down.

"Is that what people say to you?" you asked quietly.

Billy didn't reply, only continued sucking his lollipop through the wrapper.

"Here," you gently reached over to turn his chin towards you, tugging the lollipop out of his mouth.

You felt his eyes on you as you unwrapped his lollipop, trying not to show too much disgust at the drool covering the wrapper. You handed it back to him afterwards, with a smile.

"There, it probably tastes better now."

"Uh huh," Billy murmured, not even moving to put it back in his mouth.

You squirmed under his gaze. His eyes spoke differently than his silence, with several surprised emotions flickering through them. He seemed like he had so much he wanted to say, and yet he clenched his jaw shut.

"People can be pretty nasty, you know?" you said, looking away. "It is hard to ignore...but try not to let them get to you."

The door opened, and your therapist greeted you, gesturing for you to follow.

You turned to Billy just before leaving and said, "For what it's worth, I don't think you're stupid, or crazy."

Billy's eyes widened, surprise settling over his features. He grabbed your wrist as you turned to leave.

"W-wait-" he cut himself off, muttering lowly to himself.

"Yes?"

Billy stood up, trembling all over.

"I don't think you're stupid, or crazy," he echoed, looking directly into your eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and couldn't help but huff out a small laugh. Your surprise only amplified when you felt his chapped lips kiss you on the cheek. He pulled away, his own cheeks red, looking at you for any signs of complaint. When you gave his hand a squeeze, you could see the tension drop from his shoulders.

"Thank you," you whispered.

He didn't reply, but squeezed your hand back before you pulled away. Seeing the mischievous grin on his lips as you left, you wondered what on earth you'd gotten yourself into.

"Billy," your therapist playfully chided. "It's not your turn yet."

You were so flustered you didn't notice that he was less than a foot behind you. He smirked at you when you glanced back, and you had a feeling this was going to be a common issue.

[doeeyeseddie]

Eddie Diaz Week Day 4: “I don’t deserve this.” + guilt

buck/eddie, 1.7k. [read on ao3]

Somehow, it’s always in the middle of the night halfway through a gruelling shift that Bobby finds Eddie going through some shit.

Their last call was a nightmare, more people DOA than still alive, and even more they lost on scene. It’s been silent at the station since they got back, most of them trying to find comfort one way or another, dispersing to call their loved ones if they can, or into the bunk room to try and block everything out.

Buck has stuck close to Eddie’s side the whole time, both to comfort and to be comforted. It should be scary, how well Buck knows him, that he knows exactly what Eddie needs without ever having to hear him say it.

Eddie never wants to talk after these kinds of things, doesn’t see the point in rehashing things he can’t change anymore. And he’s never been particularly great at talking about his feelings, still isn’t.

Buck knows all of that and respects it, even though he’s way more of a talker than Eddie is. He hasn’t tried to broach the subject with Eddie at all, but he’s been by his side since they got back to the station, a solid warmth at his shoulder, reminding Eddie that he’s here and alive. So Eddie knows Buck hasn’t talked about it either.

Earlier, they’d been sitting at the table next to each other, touching from shoulders down to their ankles, and Buck had taken out the notebook his therapist had suggested he get for when he can’t talk about what’s going on in his head. Eddie sat next to him while he scribbled into it, and something ugly twisted in his gut.

Here he was, right next to Buck, having gone through the same damn thing, making him write his thoughts down instead of just talking to him. And Buck never even seemed to hold it against him.

Now he’s asleep with his head pillowed on Eddie’s lap, curled in on himself and one hand gripping the fabric of Eddie’s pants tightly.

Eddie can’t sleep. There’s a war going on inside of him, two equally big emotions fighting for dominance.

On one hand, there’s the tenderness and love he feels for Buck, the wish to protect him from everything coming their way. On the other, there is the guilt and self-loathing he feels for putting himself first anyway, for prioritising his aversion to talking over Buck’s need to. How can he do that to the man he loves?

“Eddie,” Bobby’s quiet voice interrupts his thoughts as their captain sits down opposite him, a worried frown on his face. “Are you alright?”

And maybe it’s that they’ve had these middle of the night conversations often enough already for Eddie to be used to opening up eventually, but Bobby doesn’t have to do any prying before it bursts out of him. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve him.”

Bobby’s eyebrows raise. “Buck?”

Eddie gives an aborted shrug and can’t quite look Bobby in the eyes. He’s spilled his guts to the poor guy so many times, he shouldn’t be embarrassed anymore - but he doesn’t want to see the pity on Bobby’s face. Doesn’t deserve that either.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because,” Eddie swallows, trying to find words for what he’s feeling, “he’s too good for me. I mean...you know how he is, Bobby. He gives so much of himself to make other people happy, to make me happy, and I...I can’t even meet him halfway. What do I have to offer?”

“I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself, Eddie.”

“Am I, though? I take and I take without giving anything back. I was a bad husband to Shannon, I’m a bad boyfriend to Buck, he would be better off without me dragging him down-”

“Have you talked to Buck about this?” Bobby interrupts, and Eddie lets out a bitter laugh.

“No, because I can’t even do that, can’t do it when it comes to my feelings or his, and now he doesn’t think he can talk to me about things like what happened tonight, but what would I even say, Bobby? I don’t know how to help, I never have the right words anyway.”

Bobby sighs. “We had a rough call tonight, Eddie, and everyone deals with it in their own way. And that’s okay! I’m sure Buck doesn’t expect anything more than what you can give from you. But for what it’s worth, I think you should try to talk to him about this anyway. If only to hear it from him.”

“Why are you so sure of what he’ll say?”

“Because I know him. And so do you, when you’re not too busy feeling guilty for things you aren’t guilty of.”

Eddie purses his lips, trying to keep the tears he can feel welling up at bay. “So you don’t think I’m acting like an egoistic asshole? Cause I’m pretty sure I am.”

“If you really think you only take from Buck and don’t give anything back to him, you need to talk to him even more than I thought you did.”

Bobby sounds almost disappointed, and it kind of knocks Eddie off balance. He seems to think it’s so obvious that Eddie is wrong. It makes him want to consider that maybe he isn’t looking at things very objectively right now.

“You make that man so happy,” Bobby continues, and his voice softens. “He has had to go through so much, and you were there for him through it all. He felt like he didn’t belong anywhere, and you gave him a family.”

“We all did that, though.”

“Yes, and we mean it - but it’s different with you. You gave him Christopher, and not just that: you gave him your trust with your son, and I think you quite literally saved him with that.” Bobby also has tears in his eyes now and Eddie swallows thickly. “My point is, you don’t have to talk about everything, Eddie, that’s not who you are. But some things need to be talked about, especially if they make you sit here and hate yourself if you don’t. You don’t deserve that, Eddie.”

Eddie wipes his eyes and gives Bobby a small smile. “Thanks, Cap.”

“Try and catch some sleep too, hm? I’m sure you’ll feel better after.”

Eddie nods and watches as Bobby walks away, feeling much better than before. He still doesn’t feel great about essentially leaving Buck alone to process, but hearing Bobby say that there are things he’s given Buck - maybe it’s not as bad as he thought it was. Clearly, he’s a work in progress, and clearly, he still needs to work on both communication and self-image.

Buck’s hand on his knee uncurls from the fabric of his pants, and Eddie sighs, running a careful hand through Buck’s hair.

“Did you hear any of that?”

“Most of it,” Buck murmurs and sits up, looking at Eddie. “I wasn’t sleeping very deeply when you two started talking.”

Eddie looks down at his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry. For leaving you alone to deal with it.”

“Eddie,” Buck says, scooting closer and taking Eddie’s hands in his, squeezing until Eddie squeezes back. “Eddie, listen to me. Is...is that what you think happened? Cause it’s not what I remember. You haven’t left my side since the last call, have you?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t talk to you about it.” He sounds ashamed when he says it, and still feels the guilt heavy on his chest.

“Did I ask you to talk about it? No. I know you don’t like talking about the rough calls, but that’s not even why I didn’t say anything. You were there right next to me, and that was all I needed. All I need. You always give me exactly what I need.” He lets go of one of Eddie’s hands and places his free one at the back of Eddie’s neck, leaning down until he can meet Eddie’s eyes. “If I wanted anything else, I would’ve asked, or gone to someone else.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, reaching out until he can get a hand on Buck’s shirt, wanting to be closer still.

“I love you, you idiot,” Buck says softly, following the pull from Eddie’s hand and pressing his forehead to Eddie’s. “And like Bobby said - you’ve given me so much, and you make me so damn happy. You’re the one person I trust with absolutely everything, and before you, no one’s ever given me that kind of trust back. When all that shit was happening with my parents, you were the only one I felt like I could talk to about everything, and you listened, and understood. You know me, Eddie, and I know you. And even when we deal with things differently sometimes, I know you’re always there for me. Do you know how long it took me to accept that I was deserving of your love? Many therapy sessions, you can believe that. But I learned that we’re both imperfect people with flaws and with baggage, but all that matters is that we make each other happy.”

Smiling, Eddie brushes their noses together softly. “You’re so smart sometimes.”

Buck snorts. “Asshole.”

Eddie presses a kiss to his lips, then another. “I love you, too. And thank you. For putting up with me and my moods.”

“It’s not “putting up with you”,” Buck says seriously, leaning back a little so he can look at Eddie. “I love all of you. Insecurities and self-doubts included, even though I wish you didn’t feel them. And you deserve that love, Eds.”

“God,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that are threatening to spill again. “I love you so much.”

Buck laughs a little and pulls him all the way in, holding him close. “I know, but you definitely need some sleep now, you’re not usually this teary. Come on, we can even share a bunk and endure the inevitable teasing tomorrow and probably for the rest of our lives.”

Eddie grins and cuddles even closer to Buck. “I can live with that.”

With Buck by his side, it sometimes feels like he can withstand everything.

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

Part 5

6 months later

Robbe bites the corner of his bottom lip while staring down, pulling the skin of his thumb until it hurts, ripping it off, brushing the dead skin to the ground carelessly. He grew used to just sitting here and being watched, it doesn’t bother him anymore, not too much at least.

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s been coming to therapy every week in hopes it would help him figure himself out but he feels the worst he’s ever felt.

“I feel useless.” Robbe answers the question that he didn’t get today yet. It’s always the first one so he decided to spare them the trouble. He looks through his eyelashes, finding his therapist staring at him in disapproval of using words such as useless to describe himself.

“I feel like everything is out of my control so there’s no point in trying, really.”

There’s a long silence, a slow breath out and Robbe sighs, relaxing on his chair, meeting his doctor’s eyes, finally even if he doesn’t feel completely comfortable doing so. He feels uneasy, exposed and it bothers him to have to deal with it.

“What happened?” Robbe looks at the notepad on her lap, all his stupid insecurities and mental problems probably written down for anyone to read if given the chance.

“Me and Sander had a fight.” It was the worst fight ever, with them talking over each other and loudly. Robbe loves Sander the same but it feels like it’s really the end this time. They can’t go on like this anymore, Robbe is really at the edge. “I don’t want to do this anymore but I still love him so it’s just...fucked up.”

He does some of the breathing exercises he grew used to doing in the past few months like she suggests he to do often when he’s feeling like this but he knows it won’t help this time, he’s too deep inside his head to let the anger and frustration go every time he breathes out, pretending he’s also letting go of the negative thoughts about himself. He should have cancelled this session because it’s not working, not even talking about it makes him change his mind, see things differently.

He should have stayed home and studied for his finals, it would be a better use of his time. She gives him a notepad and a pencil to do whatever he wants with it: write, draw, scribble. She doesn’t say that but it’s obviously her way to keep him from pulling more skin off his fingers. It’s already a little too late, most of his fingers are burning already but he tries to keep his hands busy anyway, drawing random shapes and lines.

Robbe puts his pencil down when there’s no more room in the page to draw.

“I need to walk away. It’s for the best for both of us. I’ll block him everywhere so I can’t see things and I’ll just let him be while he’s away. And if he ever comes back, maybe we’ll talk if he also feels like it.”

“I think you should calm down, think about it for a few days and not make a one way decision when there are two people involved.” Robbe looks at her and gives back the notepad, “I think he would like you to hear what he has to say about your decision. You two have been in an intimate relationship for a while. Not just romantically but as very close friends.”

Robbe shakes his head, putting his hands inside his pockets, closing his fingers around his thumb until it hurts, “I can’t talk to him or I’ll change my mind.”

-

12 months later

Robbe drops his keys on the little bench he bought to put right next to his door, the exact same layout as it was when he lived with Zoe and Milan (and then Senne. And Sander.). It was another long day of college and work, the last one of an endless week. He turns the lights on and takes his shoes off, kicking them under the bench. Tomorrow he will clean and organize properly. For now, he’ll leave everything as it is. The good side of living alone. The rest sucks but Robbe will never tell anyone about feeling like that. He never thought he was the type to need people around him every day, all day until he had to come home to an empty apartment every night.

It doesn’t happen that often, especially on the weekends, considering his friends are all over the city these days but it happens too often for Robbe’s liking. Zoe and Milan are out of town together, Senne offered to keep him company but they would be two grumpy and tired men so it would be useless. Jens is out of town too, Aaron and Amber are not an option - Robbe can’t have a disgustingly in love couple around anymore - and Moyo is with Britt and Noor. It’s good to be alone sometimes, he tries to convince himself as he reaches the kitchen, opening the fridge. Nothing other than the beers at the bottom excites him so ordering something for dinner it is. Robbe is starving so he makes a very quick search of his phone and decides for the italian restaurant that promises to deliver his food in less than half an hour.

Robbe opens his first beer of the night and throws himself on his couch, looking around, feeling like it’s a new place all of a sudden. Sometimes it hits him that he has his own place now. And that he’s alone. Therapy has been helpful and he can tell the difference when he’s about to have some pretty bad days in the worst possible mood and when his reality is just underwhelming in his eyes and he’ll get over it soon enough. He never thought this would be his life. It’s not a bad one but it’s not what he had planned.

He forces himself to get up once he manages to change his mindset and he takes his clothes off, leaving it on the living room so it’s closer to the laundry machine once he’s clean. He turns some music on and puts it to play all over the apartment, putting his phone down, singing along to Bowie as he shaves the scruff that was starting to get out of hand on his face, he takes a quick shower and while he’s putting his clothes to wash, his food gets home.

Robbe rushes down to grab it and thanks the delivery boy, rushing back inside, lighting some candles just because they’re there, getting dusty and old. He never bothered to buy a dinning table because there’s a small island right there. He sits on the stool and eats, staring at his food and the candle in front of them. His instagram isn’t as updated as it used to.

A long time ago Robbe decided to give himself more time offline, focusing on college and his internship and he’s been good at keeping that mindset most of the time, afraid to spend too many hours per day online, looking for what he’s still having to choose, day in and day out, to keep his distance from so he doesn’t hurt Sander even more.

But he doesn’t care as much tonight, so he takes a picture of his dinner for one and the sad candle in front of him and posts it to his stories, locking his phone instantly, putting it down to eat in peace.

He keeps glancing at it, careful like it could burn if he dared to grab his phone and check. It would be a lie if he said he doesn’t miss Sander but he has learned to live with it. Long distance wasn’t going to work. Robbe is happy for the ones that can jump out of their comfort zone but he can’t and he’s okay with it by now, after months and months of therapy. The only thing he can do is not drag other people into living life this way too if they don’t feel like it.

Sander is happy somewhere else and Robbe is happy that he’s happy. Easy as that.

He eats his food and washes the dishes he left this morning right after or else he would get too tired to do it before going to bed and he doesn’t feel like waking up to a sink full of dirty dishes. He washes his clothes and folds them once they’re dry and warm out of the drier. Plays some video games, and finally crashes into his bed, searching for some comfort movie to watch as he falls asleep. He doesn’t last half an hour watching it, he’ll have to start again if he really wants to watch this movie some other time, but thankfully he had already scheduled his tv to turn off after one hour and a half.

He miraculously wakes up only once in the middle of the night and almost as an afterthought, like he would do so often when he was younger, Robbe grabs his phone to check for any new notifications. Robbe read a lot about algorithms when he had nothing better to do one day because it felt like it’s a theme lately so he knows it doesn’t mean shit but he can’t help but stare at the first name on the list of people who watched his sad dinner stories.

earthlinggoddity

There’s the red-ish circle around his name but Robbe puts his phone down, the screen still bright staring at his mattress as he rolls to the other side, pulling the heavy comforter to wrap around him like a tight burrito, and he closes his eyes again. If he’s still thinking about it tomorrow, with an awake and fully functioning brain, he’ll watch whatever Sander posted if it’s still there. He shouldn’t do it now, half asleep or Robbe won’t be able to go back to sleep thinking about how badly he misses Sander.

He can’t remember his dreams when he wakes up, it’s like he blinked and it was morning already. He feels rested but still mentally tired or empty, one of the two.

His phone is still right next to him, under the pillow he never uses and so he grabs it, checking the notification that just popped on his screen a few minutes ago from Moyo.

What are you doing today, my friend? Felt like we could go skate, smoke a little bit, for old time’s sake.

Robbe sighs, clicking on it, opening his conversation with Moyo.

That sounds like a perfect Saturday to me, my friend. Meet in one hour? I’m still in bed…

While he waits for the answer, the three dots already dancing on his screen, Robbe shakes his head. It’s still somewhat early, just now past eleven so he wonders if Moyo had any sleep. He does sound in a great mood though, Robbe is happy for him but also envying his enthusiasm about life, so early on a Saturday morning.

Jesus Christ, bro. You used to be an early bird. Working your ass off isn’t paying off, huh? One hour and don’t be fucking LATE!

Robbe knows what changed that he’s not an early, happy-chappy human anymore but he won’t bother anyone else with that conversation again. He pushes himself up to put some clothes on and go meet Moyo, making a pitstop for a quick breakfast on his way there.

[aliaslua]

Right to live

Chapter 02 of my on going series: In broad daylight

Chapter summary: Michelangelo has a productive therapy session after his interview. April and Casey announce their wedding and in a jealousy crisis, Donatello has his first one-night-stand. Warning: This chapter contain light smut (mature, not explicit) if you're a minor please DON'T INTERACT. TW: Trauma mention (nothing too graphic or descriptive, but it does contain a short account of a panic attack).

Michelangelo started therapy after his first panic attack.

It was - maybe - the worst night of his life. At that point in time he didn’t even knew what a trigger was - and even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to identify or anticipate his reaction. If felt like he was dying in a literal, visceral sense. It was like having a bomb growing inside his shell, the beating counting down to a heart attack, he felt his lips cold, his head heavy and the touch of Donatello’s hand in his shoulders felt cold against his skin for the first time in his life. He could still remembers his brothers calling to him and his inhuman effort to look them in the eyes, just as he gazed into the house he grew up in and didn’t recognize the color of the new floor tiles.

The rest was a blur.

Dr. Miller was April’s last effort to persuade Leo and Raph that Mikey needed professional counseling. At this point, Mikey didn't have enough will to have a strong opinion on his treatment, he didn't have the will to do anything, really. All his days were spent sleeping by day and having terrible night anxiety, followed by an earth-shattering cry until morning, when he went back to sleep.  Despite their best effort to care for and protect the younger sibling, all of his brothers knew that he had become impossible to handle - and more important than that, his emotional and physical dependency got so intense that it was perfectly clear that there was nothing they could do: Michelangelo need help, professional help.

On the first day they entered Dr. Miller’s office, April had reassured everybody she had send the therapist recent photos of Mikey and explained all his possible triggers in detail. The clinic would open two hours early so that they could have privacy and that this first encounter would include Mikey, his brothers and Sara Miller only.

Mikey was so nervous he felt like this situation alone would end up triggering his next attack: his hands were sweaty, his chest heavy and the feeling in his stomach made him realize that maybe he would throw up all those recent pizza slices. When the door to her office opened, he felt an immediate relief upon looking at her.

Sara (as he would start calling her later) was a 67 years old black woman, wearing a knitted cardigan and a puffy ponytail. She looked at him with eyes free from any king of judgment: any kind of feeling at all, actually, it was very… neutral. After gazing at him and his brothers she had smiled lightly and then calmly said:

"Good morning. I am Dr. Miller. Are you Michelangelo?" Mikey just nodded " Welcome. Please, come in.”

So he did, on that Monday morning and all the next yet to come, for two years straight.

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

“Did you see the interview?” Mikey asked just as he entered her office, not even worrying about greeting Sara.

“Yes I did.” She answered with the same peaceful deep voice, unbothered by the absence of a greet “You looked very handsome.”

“I sure did!” The mutant turtle seated at the large red sofa, his body melting in the comfortable cushions, he grabbed one of the small pillows behind him and held it tight against his chest “Ugh! It was so fun!”

Sara smiled. She always gave him a kind of smile that made Mikey feel like she was the perfect embodiment of a fairytale grandma and for the first time, Michelangelo actually considered she might actually be someone else’s grandmother.

“I am glad to hear that. Did you do the exercises he practiced?”

Mikey hummed “It helped. But what really made all difference was that Leo was there. And April. Oh, April is getting married!” He announced “She and Casey told us about the engagement just after we all saw the interview air. It was a great night.” He stopped for a minute and laid his head against the couch, focusing on the abstract painting that always caught his attention since the first day he sat there, he knew his voice let out a sadness he was trying to hide. He didn’t need to pretend there.

“It was… Weird, I guess… Like, I should be happy for them, right? Casey is a nice man, he treats her right, they already have a life together, an apartment with a huge TV and an aquarium… I can’t argue with that, right? Right?” Sara didn’t answer, Michelangelo laid his head completely on the couch, staring at the sealing “She was my first love…. Or something like it. I feel so attached to her and…” He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, trying to measure all the feelings filling his chest “...I think I… Should I feel happy for her? Because I felt… Huh, I felt betrayed.”

“Do you feel resentment?” Dr. Miller finally asked, gazing calmly at him.

“Yeah, I guess… I didn’t know what I expected... and I don’t want to marry April. Not anymore, I mean. She is like a sister to me. No! It’s more than that… She’s like… I- It just.. it was all so fast! Everything is so fast right now, and she decided to announce just as the interview ended and I felt so… I felt so overshadowed!”

“You felt it was your night.”

“It WAS my night. And I don’t mean to sound selfish, you know? I just… Wished they had waited.”

Sara looked at her patient making a conscious effort to avoid giving away her own feelings, the enormous man in front her had a gloomy expression and tired eyes.

“Mikey, is not the first time you mention feeling like this.”

“Like what?”

“ Overshadowed .” She quoted him.

“Yeah… I guess it's something I’ve been feeling for a while.”

“You mentioned once that you felt… Smushed, is the word you used.”

“Yeah. Smushed between my brothers.”

“Hmm” Sara nodded “What about that?”

“Well, you know about that… They are all special in their own way. Leo is the leader, Raph is the muscle, Donnie is the genius, I am the… Comic relief?”

“You sound like you are all characters of a cartoon.”

“We look like it!” Mikey said, humorous. Sara did her best  to contain a tiny smile that formed in her cheeks.

“Well, you are your own person, Mikey. You don’t have to fulfill an imaginary role you fantasized for yourself.”

“Yeah I feel like you’re always telling me that.” He sighed “What this has to do with April?”

“You were telling me about her engagement…”

“Yeah. It was crazy… I mean, me, Leo and Raph kept it together but Donnie just… Bolted.” A nervous laugh escaped him “She told the news and he just… Left. I guess it was too much for him. You know, April was the only person we knew for so long… It was only natural to fall for her, right? She’s so nice, kind, and after the expected first meeting shock she treated us with… Dignity is the world Master Splinter likes to use... But then we all grew out of it.”

A long silence followed before he complemented:

“I guess Donnie didn’t”

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

Donatello felt his feet too tight against the leather shoe and considered for the third time on that evening that maybe this was a terrible idea.

Ignoring his own better judgement, he knocked.

Alicia Ellis awakened in him two utterly contradictory and madding feelings: disgust and lust.

Many times he had tried - and succeeded- at disguising the amount of attention he paid to her body, especially since the context they first met didn’t allowed for flirtatious endeavors and despite knowing his physical body was searching it’s hormonal peak, Donatello proud himself on being utterly respectful: an effort that he felt he was making alone. Ellis never even tried to hide her indiscreet wants, playing with their encounters just enough to not be considered harassment, but clear enough to not allow ambiguity. Was that even possible? Donnie asked himself. Did it even matter now?

He felt disgusted mostly towards himself, actually, knowing full well why he had come to her apartment after that eventful night, just as the women he thought he could win over announced her engagement to the man he honestly felt he could one day surpass - pathetic, he beat himself again, cringing at the mere fact he once imagined a possible future for them, together. What a pathetic, emotional, delusional monster you are, dreaming about the pretty girl that once held your hand… And now you surrender to your most selfish desire, luring this woman who will be stupid enough to let you in.

This is going to ruin you. Was the last thing he thought before she opened the door.

She was astonishingly beautiful, with her thick luxurious wavy hair and round plump figure, pressed against a tight outfit he didn’t have enough interest to notice in detail.

“Took you long enough.” She said in a malicious tone, grabbing him by his belt. The apartment was warm, had a delicious floral smell and it was lit in subtle yellow light that mimicked candles. It was sexy, inviting and terribly scary, just like her.

This is going to ruin me . The feeling echoed towards Donnie as he willfully closed the door behind him.

It wasn’t hard for him to understand why a woman like her would take interest in being with a man like him, the internet had allowed Donnie to have a very indiscreet access to the human world - especially since people seemed really comfortable in sharing online things they wouldn’t even tell a best friend - and he knew way before they even came out to the surface that most probably wouldn’t be difficult to find someone willing to share a bed with him. Alicia was just a part of a very niche - yet not so small as one may think - group.

The thought brought him a small relief and a strike of courage that he much needed at that moment.

“I didn’t think you would come.” She said, bringing two glasses of a clear-yellow liquid. What an inappropriate move to bring a glass of white wine to a young adult not-yet-of-age , his better judgment told him as he accepted the glass, but wasn’t he 21 yet? Yes, he was... Maybe it was just judgment.

“Me neither” He answered after a sigh, too honest for his own sake.

“What changed your mind?” She mischievously asked, crossing her legs in an angle that brushed against his knee.

Donatello considered for a minute to said the truth, my heart was broken and honestly I really want to have sex, how would she respond to that? Was there a polite way of saying it? Instead, he said: “I’ve decided to change my approach on things.”

“Oh, really?” She smiled honestly “...And how’s that gonna happen?”

I will take every opportunity that life gives me, irrespective of its consequences, “I’ll stop sabotaging my wants…” He turned his body a little bit in her direction, he had planned a second sentence to follow but it seemed like he had already said all she needed to hear.

She slid her knee between his legs to climb his lap, brushing the space between the buttons of his shirt lightly. How quickly she hopped on top of him and how quickly his body responded to the feel of her warm perfumed breath against his neck. “That’s great to hear.”

It wasn’t Donatello’s first kiss but the tension of feeling the soft lips of a woman he barely knew nothing about added to the oh-so-suggestive friction of her thighs against  his zipper made it an entirely new experience. If he granted himself a moment of reason, Donnie would most likely find her too hurried and eager - but again, what was his experience in this field? Wasn’t this how the encounter should go? What else was he expecting? Independent of what his reason may have considered, the friction of her palms against the now prominent bulge in his pants added to the delicious sounds coming from her throat made every single indecision go away.

He felt his head light and dizzy as their tongues danced against each other and the urge to feel relief made him bold. She answered the squeeze he gave her bottom with an audible moan that gave Donatello’s stomach a cold wave of shock along with the first visible stain in between his paints. She felt the thickness of his fluid against the fabric and smiled against his lips.

“Such a passionate… response.” She said in what sounded like a performative tone - well, she was a journalist.

He took her incentive and slide her tube dress above her ass, stoking it as he lowered his lips to her neck. Her skin was soft and the way it reacted to his mouth - the small flinches of her body and the building pressure between his legs could only compare to the amazing feeling of her silk soft thigh skin. She used her hands to guide his head further down, lowering the piece of garment herself, he instinctively took one of her nipples in his mouth, enjoying the contrast between the soft skin of her breasts and the beaded texture of her nipples.

When Alicia laid her body against him on the couch, he followed her moves and felt the soft pillow against his head, the discreet but unmistakable sound of his zipper being opened followed by her stocked gasp at his member followed by “Oh I’m gonna have fun tonight!”. Donatello held her waist closer to his own, trying to reach her lips again, wondering if he could say the same. The warmth between her legs and the delicious feeling that jolted through his body and she aligned him to her entry - and the irresistible pleasure of feeling his tip tease her plump lips - made him think that the most likely answer was yes .

...And what an unnecessary concern the wine proved to be: he didn’t even get to drink it.

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

“...you know, Raph made a friend.” Mikey had stood on his feet and now looked through the squared window. He had a regular habit of standing up during the sessions, usually as they were reaching the middle of the appointment. Sara it wrote down anyway, before adding:

“Really?”

Mikey hummed “...It’s a complicated story - but he left to buy a bear, this old man didn’t want to sell it to him, so he got really angry, so someone threatened to call the police, so he started to freak out and then this… girl appeared!”  He was switching his body height between his legs “Clara. What a name! Heh- I don’t get to say that, huh? Well, her name was Clara and he said she looked like an anime version of a character from Fresh prince of bel air … Can you imagine?” He turned to look at her. Sara just nodded.

“Wanna hear some really crazy stuff? Raph told me that they were talking and she told him she saw my interview… and she said she was in love with me!” He offered his therapist an incredulous happy smile “ME! Can you believe it?”

Sara hummed and made another note.

“I know she was kidding, I don’t think she loves me. But saying it like this sounds like… Like I am a celebrity! Like she would like to know me… Like…”

“Like you have been seen.”

“HELL YEAH!” He exclaimed, sitting down on the couch again grabbing his trust-worthy pillow “... And that sucker didn’t even got her number…” A deep sigh followed silence. Very discreetly, Dr. Miller checked her watch.

“It doesn’t matter, really, it just made me realize… That I wished I had someone…”

More silence.

“-I know I already have someone, if that's what you’re gonna say… I know my brothers are my care net and that I have friends and confidants, and bla bla bla”.

“Well I wasn’t going to…” She said peacefully.

“ I want… A lover . Someone to be my special one. Someone to cherish and spoil and share my life with! Someone who can say they’re in love with me… For real.”

More deep silence.

“... And why don’t you?” She finally prompted. Michelangelo turned to look at her with a impatient expression:

“Are you kiddin’ me?”

“I am definitely not.”

“You can’t be that cynical!”

“I am not.”

“Sara…” He sighed uneasily “... not this again.” she heard pain in his words.

“You have the right to live, Mikey.” She gazed at him with the same kind eyes, letting her strong words get to him “...Just like anyone else.”

This time, that was an anxious silence. Michelangelo rubbed his hands together as if he was facing a cold storm “What if it happens again?”

“Then you will do what we practiced.” She waited for an answer that didn’t come “... Do you wanna remember it once again with me?”

He simply nodded.

“I am more…” She started.

“...than people perceive me.”

“I’ve the right…”

“...to occupy space.”

“No one…”

“No one can deny me my right to live.”

“That was great, Mikey.” Dr. Miller said kindly.

He squeezed the tears away from his eyes, not even realizing they were there. “...Yeah… Yeah, it was.”

━━━━━━ • ✿ • ━━━━━━

It was certainly.... Memorable , Donatello thought, staring at his brand new shoes as they made the path back to the lair. How was it again that he found himself in that situation? That sad looking, empty feeling, walk-of-shame. Oh, yeah, Alicia Ellis.

Something felt terrible wrong about that whole endeavor. He tried to think about the details, to analyze the facts: it has been clearly consensual, sober, communicative sex. So why did he feel like some part of him had been left behind in that apartment? Was it his clear shyness when they finally consumed the act or her generous overlook at his even clearer lack of experience? Had him fail his mission? Factually not! He performed… Fine - it was hard to measure, but she seemed pleased enough. He was also pleased… Physically, at least.

So why did he feel so… Empty?

He walked among the streets of New York without the concern his older brother seemed to carry. Donatello was always really good at not carrying - just as he was good at carrying too much . Oh, yes, his overthinking nature was still going to kill him, no matter how hard he tried to pretend like it didn’t matter at all.

Nothing mattered, everything mattered. What a contradictory and childish state of mind. Could he ever find balance? Would he ever be able to take risks and still be prudent? To be disappointed and not lose all faith? To love deeply and move over from it, stronger and ready to love again? Did he ever truly love her ?

He remembered her ring shining against the light, mocking his defeat. A zirconium, Casey Jones…  Can’t even buy her a real diamond . He muttered to himself and the night, kicking a small rock in the path.

The worst part, the real strike of the devil - was the fact that she looked immensely happy. Heartbreakingly happy. And there was nothing, nothing in this world that Donnie could think that could justify taking this away from her - not even the fantasy that she could be happier.

He took a deep breath and grabbed the keys in his pocket. That was no way out of it: we would have to get over her. At least now he knew that running away to unknown women’s homes was not a viable solution.

[romiithebirdie]

Epilogue for the Lost - Chapter 2

Present day.

Inko Midoriya entered her apartment, softly closing the front door behind her after dropping her shopping bags in the hallway. A harsh breeze slapped her bare arms and she shivered, quickly removing her shoes and padding into the living room to close the window that she hadn't realised she'd left open.

Cheerful music rang out in the direction of the kitchen and she immediately followed the sound up towards one of her kitchen worktops. Within seconds, Inko slid her arm across the space and picked up the mobile device with a questioning frown.

UNKNOWN CALLER

Timidly, she pressed the Answer button and slowly put it to her ear;

"Midoriya Residence, may I ask who's calling?"

Her response came from an intangible grunt followed by loud rustling, like the caller was fumbling through plastic liners. She sighed, "Hello?"

"Y-yeah," the audio was fuzzy, almost like they had a bad signal connection from wherever they were calling from. "I'm looking for an Inko Midoriya."

"Speaking."

"I see."

Inko huffed, switching her phone into her other free hand; "So? Is there something you needed or-"

"You were his wife, right?"

And her instinct to slam the phone down at that moment faltered and she immediately was hit with old painful memories.

"E-Excuse me?" her voice was hushed, like she'd been winded by those words alone.

"Your husband. Hisashi Midoriya."

"Who is this?"

"Just somebody who wanted to talk."

"My husband hasn't lived here," since he disappeared, "for a while. I'm sorry if you were trying to reach him, I can't help you."

With that brief explanation, she immediately ended the call and dropped it on the table top. With a stifled gasp, she clamped a hand over her mouth and leaned over one of the kitchen chairs as if she were in pain.

Emotional pain.

She really needed Izuku right now…

UNKNOWN CALLER buzzed across her phone screen for the second time and a shiver ran from the back of her neck all the way down to her spine. Was someone trying to pull a sick prank or something? She had no clue.

Reluctantly, she pressed Answer once again and whispered an anxious, "Hello?"

"You know you cry way too much, right? Same old Inko."

Crying?

She gingerly touched her cheek and immediately felt the wetness. Then it dawned on her what this person had just said and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Who is this?" she repeated, firmer this time while brushing the back of her arm against her face. Somebody had been watching her, the problem was she had no idea where. "Listen," her voice was jittery yet she ignored it, "I don't know how you got my number or where you've seen me but if you don't stop right now, I will be calling the authorities."

"Call them," the voice cackled gruffly on the other side of the line, "besides, who said anything about having seen you? You shouldn't leave your window open when you leave the house."

The window.

It had been open when she'd returned home from her errand.

She lowered the phone from her ear, heart racing against her chest while her ears picked up every tiny sound coming from the floorboards, thumps against the walls from the neighbours and a slow ticking sound coming from the kitchen clock.

The front door was only along the hallway. Almost taunting her with the reflective rays of the sunshine outside.

Tick, tick, tick.

It felt like she was stuck in slow-motion, her legs trembling violently under the assumption there might be an intruder hiding somewhere in her home right now…

"You've gone quiet."

Was that this person's plan? To lure her outside?

"I-I…" Inko choked on her own words.

"Don't you like talking to me?"

No. I really don't.

"I like talking to you."

Inko closed her eyes and bit her lip before shaking her head.

"After all, we're practically family."

                                                .-.-.-.-.

"You serious, Deku?" came the sneer of a young boy with spiky ash-blond hair. Behind him stood two other boys around the same age as they towered over a smaller boy with messy green locks. "You really think a weakling like you can do a fucking thing against the three of us?"

"He was crying, Kacchan!" the green-haired boy pleaded, wiping furiously at his tear-stained cheeks. "You can't keep acting like a bully; it's wrong!"

"The hell did you just say to me?!"

It was the wrong choice of words.

Something Izuku had quickly learned when dealing with Katsuki Bakugou, a boy that used to be his friend. However, when Izuku confided to the other child about the secret that greatly upset his parents, he was met with complete scorn and eventually became the class outcast.

Defenseless Izuku, the freak that saw dead people and nobody wanted to be friends with.

However, Katsuki's bullying tendencies halted after one of his friends, Tsubasa, vanished without a trace. The fiery boy grew more withdrawn and unsure, keeping Izuku at a great distance rather than choosing to torment him.

Katsuki Bakugou eventually moved away from Musutafu to live with his grandparents after a gruesome event that deeply traumatised him;

Early one morning, the remains of Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou were found along the coastal side of Dagobah Beach. The media kept a lot of the details brief due to the case's sheer horrifying nature.

Masaru Bakugou was found with his throat slit and hands cut off while Mitsuki Bakugou was covered in various stab wounds with her tongue removed. The forensics and autopsies had ruled out that they had been dead for quite some time due to the fact that their corpses were spread with heavy decay.

Izuku only remembered fragments of the dreadful news; his father being more reserved while his mother broke down over discovering their demise. From what he remembered, his mother and Auntie Mitsuki had met in Junior High and had remained friends in their adult life.

Despite Katsuki's ill-treatment of him, Izuku still found himself feeling concerned for the louder boy. Sadly, Izuku never got a chance to try and rekindle his friendship with the youngest Bakugou due to him immediately being sent away.

It was something that Izuku still found himself longing for many years later in his teenage years…

"Hi, everybody. My name is Izuku Midoriya and I'm visiting today to talk about things that have affected me since I was very young."

And I'd rather be anywhere else than here right now…

Izuku forced himself to smile, despite the overwhelming feeling of nerves tugging away at his chest that made him feel more like a wooden puppet than an actual person at this point. It was pretty on point, he'd been rehearsing his greeting for a while now anyway...

"Thank you, Midoriya, please take your seat," one of the group therapy leaders smiled, sitting forward while hunched over her thick clipboard in an extremely awkward manner. Izuku bared his teeth in another forced grin before sitting back down on his plastic chair, trying to ignore the burn of embarrassment scorching his freckled cheeks.

While various names chorused amongst each other, Izuku chose to tune out. His emerald green eyes focused completely on a particular spot on the floor tiles as voices blended into one incoherent fuzzy noise. Almost sounding like television static.

Therapy had been his mother's idea. Izuku hadn't been thrilled at the proposition but he knew how much it would mean to her if he tried it out. That was several months ago.

They had attempted medication and counselling in the past too, thus why Izuku was understandably growing more and more tired with it. It was the same old story to him.

While he had grown up seeing things that would be… odd to most, the idea for counselling had nothing to do with the invisible people that clung to him in desperation. They still talked to him, though Izuku often found himself tuning out more nowadays.

Maybe he was just crazy?

That would explain why his mother was always sad and his father cut them off years ago.

Perhaps it was the stress of dealing with a problem child?

Izuku shook his head, chiding himself internally for even daring to consider such a ludicrous possibility;

Both of his parents loved him.

His mother was still grieving her husband's disappearance, it had nothing to do with Izuku's quirky little ability to see dead people…

"Get a grip, Izuku," he muttered to himself.

"Uh, is everything alright over there, young man?" one of the counsellors blinked, everybody's attention solely on the greenette as he flushed in humiliation.

Add talking to yourself to that pile of issues too, Izuku thought miserably to himself while the group therapy session came to end. The second that the adults dismissed the teens, Izuku snatched up his bag and bolted for the exit door like his life depended on it. Luckily, it was a short ride on the bullet train back to the city of Musutafu's Tattooin Station and then a ten minute walk back to his apartment complex.

As he made his way along his neighbourhood street, he noticed a large number of people crowding around the apartment blocks, some people were filming while police were running around and taping the area off to the civilians.

What in the…

While he craned his neck to try and see what was happening, his shoulder bumped against another member of the public and they made a short, restrained grunt as they were pushed to the side.

"S-Sorry, are you-" Izuku froze, emerald orbs meeting an intense crimson that sparked an old feeling of anxiousness and bad nostalgia.

"It's fine," the guy muttered, lowering his head before turning on his heel and striding in the opposite direction of the scene.

That was odd, Izuku frowned, watching the guy disappear amongst the sea of people flocking around the teen while using their phones to record.

Paramedics dressed in green appeared from the stairwell of the apartment complex and rushed across the lawn, pushing a stretcher on wheels. Izuku carefully pushed his way towards the front of the crowd and immediately froze in complete horror.

On the stretcher was his mother.

Thick gauze and towels were drenched in red that could only have been blood and she had an oxygen mask over her face. Izuku's vision suddenly swam and he clung to the nearest stranger, gasping for breath.

Police, paramedics and people were surrounding the entire vicinity. Realisation smacked Izuku as hard as a blunt object striking him across the face.

Holy shit. Who had done this?

His mother was being taken away on a stretcher covered in blood. He honestly didn't understand what was currently happening. Why was this happening?

The last that Izuku saw of his kind, gentle mother before the paramedics closed the ambulance doors were three random letters that had been carved into her arm;

A.F.O

[barbarasbae]

Even in Hawkins- Nerves

Part 15 of Even in Hawkins 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: hospitals, call back/mentions of miscarraige, healing, Neil makes an appearance, complicated feelings are had ( they’re starting to figure their dynamics out)

Hi welcome to the literal 8th version of this chapter that I’ve written in the past...4 months? Finally finally happy with the final product. 

Billy was in the hospital for 5 more days, Max and Steve helping him practice walking. Y/n would help, but Max felt she needed to do it and Steve was stronger than Y/n, so it was probably for the best. “You’re doing great, Billy.” She called, the group turning around. His face was pink. “Do you need to slow down?” Max asked, concerned. “M’ fine.” He walked back to the room, Max trading her spot with Y/n. “Oof! Forgot how heavy you are.” She teased, Billy nipping her ear. She giggled, nudging him back. They helped him back in bed, the nurse on duty coming in to check on his stitches. Steve squeezed Y/n’s shoulder, bumping his nose against her ear. “You okay?”

“Yeah..just..nervous.” She admitted. “Why?”

“Just about..stuff. Like stitches and stairs.” She sat next to Billy, looking at the clock. Visiting hours were almost over. “Can you stay tonight?” Billy asked quietly, looking at his lap. “Sure. Something wrong?”

He shrugged, a mild pout on his face. She leaned in, Max and Steve starting to chatter about something. “It’s okay to be nervous.” She promised in a whisper, pressing her cheek against his, feeling heat flood his cheeks at the contact. “You embarrassed, silly?”

He grumbled, Y/n smiling. “Hey, do you think you two could give us a moment alone?” Y/n asked Max and Steve, nudging Billy. Both looking reluctant. “I’m really hungry actually. Could you go get me a sandwich or something?” Billy asked, taking the hint. The pair walked out, Steve looking a little flushed. Billy reached over, grabbing her closest hand.  Y/n rested her chin on his shoulder, poking his cheek with her nose. She felt the alpha let out a shuddering breath, laying back into the pillows. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He whimpered, turning his head. “I can’t-all those people. How can I just go home and act like nothing happened?” He asked in a whisper. Y/n was quiet. How can you? 

“I don’t know, B. I guess you’ll just have to try to live your best or something like that?” That made his mouth quirk in a little smile. “Or something.” His voice was small. Y/n found Billy was turning more and more inward, getting quieter and quieter. Very similar to how he was when he first woke up. This wouldn’t do, of course. The omega in Y/n was practically screaming for her to fix it. 

“Bill?”

“Hm?”

“Love you.” She told him softly, the blond giving her a brilliant smile. “Love you too.” She leaned back into him, Billy pulling her back into a hug, her nose pressed back into his hair. Billy pressed his nose into her scent gland, letting out a long sigh. 

“Can’t wait to scent you how I actually want to.” She murmured, feeling the tip of Billy’s nose rubbing along the curve of her neck and became extremely aware that the doctor was coming into the room. She pulled back gently. “No-” He whined, following her. 

“As much as I’m enjoying it, we have an audience.” She cooed, kissing him and helping him lay down. She sat next to him in a chair, a nurse walking over to check his vitals. Billy grabbed for her hand, the heart monitor speeding up. Y/n rubbed the inside of his palm, not wanting Billy to strain against his IV. 

“Hey William. How are you feeling today?” He shrugged. “Well, that’s better than a grunt I suppose.” The nurse took his temperature, Dr. Owens flipping through the file. “You walked earlier today?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good. I figured we’d discuss some of what you’ll need to do during recovery so check out on Friday can go faster.”

“I get to go home?” Dr. Owens nodded. “I have a list I’ll hand off to you but for now I’ll read you the most important ones. No getting stitches wet for at least another three weeks. You have to quit smoking. We can’t risk it with your weak lungs. No lifting anything heavy for at least 8 weeks and no driving heavy machinery for another 2. I want you to come see me once a week for therapy and at least another session once a week for physical therapy after your 8 weeks is up.” 

“Okay.” Billy’s voice was small. “This isn’t necessary, but I am going to recommend cutting your hair. 

“Doc, you gotta leave me with something.”

“Unless you have someone do it for you, because you strike me as someone who takes care of it, I recommend cutting it so you don’t have to worry about lifting your arms above your shoulder. Easy way to rip stitches.” Billy was getting upset. “We’ll figure something out.” Y/n promised, trying to reassure him. “Sandra here will tell you how to take care of your stitches. I’ll see you in the morning. Call if you need anything.”

“Would it be alright for me to stay here overnight?” The nurse nodded, going to get a special form for her. Steve and Max finally came back, passing out sandwiches. “You need me to get you anything?” The other omega asked before leaning his weight on the bed, eyes darting back and forth between the couple in front of him. “I think I’m okay for now. I’ll just go home in the morning for new clothes and stuff probably. You need anything, B?”

 “I’m good.” Steve handed Billy his sandwich, looking pleased with himself when the alpha took a bite. “Would it be alright if I hug you before I leave?” Steve asked, more so looking at Y/n then he was Billy. “Yeah. That would be nice.” The blond smiled. The older omega squeezed in tight, the slight scenting not going unnoticed by Y/n. “I feel like I need a hug as well.” She teased, scenting Steve as well, a little chirp escaping her at the wonderfully safe, warm and familiar scent of Steve. “Well now I’m a little jealous.” Billy teased, the omegas laughing. “Ready Max?”

“I don’t wanna goooo.” She whined, dragging herself over to the cot. “Love you Billy.” She mumbled, embracing him in a way that was less a hug and more max wilting into him. “Love you too, shitbird.” She stuck her tongue out, Steve having to drag her away. 

Y/n turned the tv on, the pair inhaling turkey sandwiches from the cafeteria. 

She felt Billy’s eyes on her, the omega leaning closer. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Did you ever go to the hospital after, you know?” 

“What?”

“The baby?” Billy whispered and suddenly the only noise in the room was the tv. “Oh.”

“...”

“Yeah, I did. That’s the only reason I knew it was...a miscarraige.” She told him softly, the alpha reaching for her hand. “I could have gone with you.” She shook her head. “It was just me and my mom. I was so scared, I wasn’t even thinking about trying to tell anyone else.” 

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand, Y/n wiping at her face. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie, Y/n.”

“I’m not. Promise,”

She slept curled in the recliner, waking up every time a nurse came to check on Billy.  Everyone continued to visit him throughout the week, the alpha forgetting to mention his impending release coming up. 

The morning of Billy’s last day in the hospital, Billy received a 5 page pamphlet of instructions as well as a non-disclosure agreement. Dr. Owens mentioned he should be getting a check in the mail in a few weeks and that he needed to come back Tuesday for his first physical therapy appointment. Then he was free to go. 

“Well, first day free. What do you want to do?” She asked the blond as they got on the road. “I want a burger.” 

“Okay, greasy burger coming up. It okay if we make a few more stops after?” He nodded, playing with one of the strings on his hoodie. 

 She pulled into the video store parking lot, Billy following behind her, tugging his sleeves down. She reached for his hand, the blond eagerly taking it. “Y/n?” Steve called from the counter, Robin flipping through a comic book. They came over. “Holy shit. Billy! Hey man!” He came around the counter and hugged the alpha, Billy hugging back tightly. Steve tried to be subtle about scenting him but failed pretty spectacularly, causing the other omega to laugh. Steve smiled sheepishly, blushing when Billy buried his face in Steve’s neck. “You’re not the only ones here, dinguses.” Robin chided, Steve yanking away. “I think I should get a hug too.” Y/n teased, Steve throwing his arms around her. “This okay?” He asked quietly, nosing at her scent gland.  “Oh-uh. y-yeah. Yeah it’s okay.” She hugged back tightly. “So what brings you here?”

“Movies.”

“Oh, right.” Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He hopped back over the counter, Robin rolling her eyes. Billy meandered, grabbing a couple movies. “Okay, that’s gonna be $4.79.” Steve chirped, smiling up at Billy. Y/n handed off a 5. “I don’t want any change.”

“Hold on.” He grabbed a couple candy bars. “$5 solid.” 

“Thanks, Stevie.” Billy piped up, reaching for Y/n’s hand. “No problem.”

“Steven, you’re drooling.” Robin sighed, closing the comic. “I am not!” 

Y/n smiled. “Wanna come over for movies tomorrow?” 

“Oh, sure.”

“Cool. It’s a date.” Y/n winked, Steve turning pink. “Later, pretty boy.” Billy threw in a wink of his own, Robin cackling as they turned to leave. “Dingus, get off the floor.” Y/n and Billy giggled, the former pulling the blond alpha outside. After getting snacks, Y/n started toward his house to let Billy rest. They pulled into his driveway, Billy looking tense. “Want me to walk you to the door?” He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll call you after dinner if I can come over?” She nodded. “Love you, B.” She leaned over, nuzzling the alpha’s scent gland. He let out an involuntary purr. “Okay, get off of me. Won’t ever get home.” He teased, kissing her forehead. She waved as he walked up the pavement, driving off. 

Max opened the door after he knocked on it, stunned. “B-billy?!” 

“Hi Max.” 

She threw her arms around him, crying. He put the box down and hugged her back, Max not letting him go for a good 5 minutes. Neil watched them, not saying anything yet. Susan pulled him into a tight hug, saying she had been so worried about him. Max followed him into his room, asking question after question. “Maxine! Let him breathe.” Neil called. “It’s okay.” Billy said to her. She nodded and scooted into her room, Billy laying down on his bed. Neil came in, Billy sitting up in a panic. “Come to the kitchen.” He did, cautious. His body still hurt so much, he wasn’t ready for what pain might be coming. Susan set a plate of food in front of him. Neil pat his shoulder (a little too hard, mind you), squeezing in a way that made Billy straighten his spine in response. “We were so worried, Billy.” Neil said, voice...quiet? 

Susan nodded. “What did the doctors say?”

“Oh, I don’t remember everything but I have some instructions. I have to do some physical therapy and they had to do surgery on my lungs. Ma’am.” 

“MAXINE!”

“WHAT?!” 

“GET YOUR BROTHERS PAPERS FROM THE HOSPITAL.” 

She brought them in, Billy slowly eating the soup in front of him. Billy saw his father’s eyes go wide. “Don’t worry. The guys who own the mall are paying for everything. They don’t want us to sue them.” He repeated the lie Dr. Owens had instructed him to tell. Neil patted him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. And if they don’t pay for all of it I’m gonna sue them for all their worth.” Billy nodded. And then he was left alone. Well, sorta. Susan wouldn’t stop staring at him as he walked from the kitchen to the bathroom to his bedroom. He flipped through the pages Dr. Owens had given, grimacing at the appointment list. He was just tired. And the thought of having to do all that was exhausting. “Billy?”

“Hm?”

“I-mom got you something.” He got up, grunting. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She had a phone in her hands. “They said I can connect it for you in here, if you want?”

“Sure, Max.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Or not…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just tired.” She nodded. “Can I put it here?” He nodded, laying back down. “Thanks, Max.” 

“Call your girlfriend.” She poked his arm. He smiled. “You’re not gonna be using this to call you know who lets get that straight now.” She huffed but didn’t yell at him. He called Y/n after his door was shut. 

“Hey baby.” He smiled, speaking to her softly. “Hi. Do you wanna come over?”

“Can I bring Max?”

“Sure. What time?”

“I don’t care. Now?”

“See you in twenty.” 

They watched back to the future in Y/n’s room, Billy having an arm around each girl. Max only lasted about ten minutes before she complained his arm was heavy. Y/n played with his hair, kissing his cheek every once and awhile. She missed him like hell. And she fell asleep during the movie like 40 minutes in. “Baby, you’re missing it.” He cooed, her resting on his shoulder. She blinked awake, nudging his nose with hers. “I’m probably not gonna make it through the movie.” She said, putting her hand on his chest. Max had moved so she was resting on her elbows towards the end of the bed, kicking her feet. Y/n turned on her side, hiding her face in Billy’s neck, the alpha rubbing his cheek on top of her head.  

“Isn’t Marty kinda hot, Y/n? Y/n?” Max turned her head to see her older brother and his girlfriend asleep. She groaned and got up. “Gross.” She actually thought they were really cute but she would never admit that out loud. She decided to venture downstairs, Y/n’s mom in the kitchen. “Hey sweetie. Who are you?”

“Max Mayfield. I’m Billy’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Do you have any ice cream?” Y/n’s mom let her take it upstairs, Max grimacing at the site of Billy drooling on his girlfriend. 

Max bounced as she sat, waking Y/n up. “What’s happening?”

“Want some ice cream?” 

“Sure.” The girls shared ice cream, finishing the movie. 

“Billy, you need to wake up.”

“Five more minutes…” He pleaded, rolling into the pillows. “Ah, fuck.” 

“Careful. Gotta take it easy.” She helped him sit up. “I gotta take you home.”

“Don’t wanna leave.” He whined, pushing his face into her chest. “Billy I’m tired.” Max whined, sugar crash hitting her hard. “You need to go get sleep before our date tomorrow.” Y/n whispered, Billy smiling. “Fine, fine. I’m getting up.” He grumbled, Y/n driving a sleepy Max and Billy home, stomach in knots at the prospect of their movie date tomorrow with Steve. 

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[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance Cycle: The origins of Farthen Dur’s current veterans bar owner (semi-scrapped ficlet)

(*hacks up half completed MIC snippet hairball and wanders off* Timeline is a few years before Saphira’s egg is stolen, probably about three or four years at most.)

CONTENT WARNING: WARZONE COMBAT, COMBAT INJURIES, TRAUMATIC AMPUTATION, COMBAT AMPUTEE CHARACTER, REHABILITATION

Cracks and shots stabbed needles into unprotected ears. Bullets cut swirled, roiling lines through the smoke and dust saturated air while the clash of blades rumbled at a constant crackle. Heavy booms of dwarvish artilary and Broddring cannonbombs shook the blood soaked earth.

He couldn’t say he was at the center of it all. In fact, he was a good distance from the thick of the hand to hand combat, in a half completed, baked earth sprinkled trench. The crumbling walls had sloped in on him, partially burying what was left of his lower right leg and his shrapnel studded left. A cannonbomb impacted ten meters away, pouring more of the dirt onto his body as various warriors of both sides scrambled and yelled, running to and fro in the pitched battle.

No, he wasn’t at the center of it. Combat engineer Samuel “Coop” Cooper, 32nd Division of the Surdan ground forces, couldn’t have cared less. Because he was bleeding and screaming and writhing in that little trench, staring at the white shanks of bone that heralded the new end of his leg.

Coop cried out in renewed pain, the shudder of the ground bumping into his mangled limb. He was crying, cutting streaks through the grime on his young face down to his close cropped beard. He had been so proud of that damn beard, finally out of the awkward patchiness of his teen years, proud to finally be a true C.E. like the rest of his division. Now it didn’t even matter. He’d seen men on the battlefield in his situation. He knew that in the chaos of a full on fight that the wounded were rarely, if ever, treated early enough to grant survival.

He’d go out like his Pap. Screaming bloody murder at the Broddring dogs across the battlefield, knowing that his own battlemates couldn’t spare the time or distraction to pick him up and haul him back to the tents.

No one would ever say it was a noble death. But by the bright gods above, Coop would show the courage to face it head on.

New shots cracked overhead, a rifle not three yards from where the young man was concealed. Instead of footsteps pounding by in a dead run towards –or away, as many young recruits had gone– the thick of the battle, the steps came directly towards him. A cold hand clutched at Coop’s heart when black boots entered his field of vision, and he screamed incoherently at the owner, trying to brandish the remnants of his shattered rifle.

No bullet came for him. The figure crouched down, ignoring the whiz of projectiles whipping past.

“Looks like you’re in rough shape, kid.” Then they leapt into the trench and hunched over Coop’s prone form.

He stared.

He honestly couldn’t tell if it was a trick of his mind. He was in enough pain and had lost enough blood for that to make sense. It had to be that.

Crouched over him, thick braid dangling over her shoulder, was a woman. Her gore streaked face was strikingly pretty, even for Coop’s befuddled brain. A rifle he couldn’t identify was slung over her right shoulder, a fine sword clenched in her left hand, and pieces of an outlandish silvery blue kevlar material was strapped all over her chest.

“Hey. Hey!” He tried to focus his bleary vision on her face. Her dark eyes caught and held his gaze. “You got any wards? I need to know.”

Coop shook his head with great effort. Combat Engineers rarely got things as precious as wards.

Everything was getting very heavy….

And then the world shot back into achingly sharp clarity when the woman grabbed his mangled leg at the knee, fingers impossibly strong. He shrieked in agony, red and black spots flaring in his vision. The shrill sound drowned out the spell that the woman used, but he didn’t care because moments afterwards the pain drained away. There was a crawling, itching sensation as the blood that had been flowing from his legs coagulated and dried, forming hard, shiny scabs that were quickly covered with fine dust from the parched soil.

“H’up you go!” Suddenly the world tilted and rolled, spinning in and out of focus like a sickening rollercoaster. The next thing Coop saw, so close up so that he nearly crossed his eyes to read it, was the patch on the woman’s shoulder.

E.S.O. Elvin Spec. Ops. Edoc’sil Varden du Wyrani.

And then the world was again a blur. Not long after he felt himself being lowered onto a stretcher, the woman’s voice garbled and indistinct. As more voices layered in, Coop let himself close his eyes.

He didn’t really know what to think about the last ten minutes. He didn’t know if he was with the Surdan and Varden forces or with the Broddring Empire’s, but he didn’t hurt as much. His mind was foggy but that was okay. He just needed…needed a nap.

Sam Cooper fell asleep on the stretcher, and didn’t wake up until he was in the closest hospital, the lower half of his right shin now neatly amputated and wrapped in clean white gauze.

~~

Cooper closed his eyes, the bright white lights of the hospital room glaring through his lids. He didn’t want to get up and turn them off, but he couldn’t sleep with them on either.

It was six long, painful months after his medical discharge. Six months after he transferred from Surda’s VA hospital to the underground facility at Farthen Dur. Six months of getting used to his new prosthetic foot, six months of learning how to stand and walk again, six months of grueling physical therapy that put boot camp to shame. His whole body ached from the PT session he just completed, the stump of his leg the sorest of all. He was still building up thicker skin that would make putting his weight on it easier.

Coop groaned and dragged his hands over his eyes. He hated calling the nurses to ask for simple things like water and light switches. It felt humiliating. A twenty-two year old army man with three years of active, bloody duty on the Surdan border and the nurses still had the gall to look at him with open pity.

Maybe he could just sleep with his arm over his face….

Three sharp raps on the sign outside his hospital room startled Cooper from his thoughts. He pulled the crook of his elbow away from his eyes– and gaped at his visitor.

It was her!

The woman was leaned casually in his doorframe, stray tendrils of pitch black hair whisping over her forehead and braid again over her shoulder. Her jacket, pinned at the shoulders by the straps of a black backpack, was free from a majority of the kevlar, and hung open on her lean frame. Beneath it, a simple black shirt and a pair of mottled green cargo pants.

“Hi.” She waved slightly.

Coop opened and closed his mouth a few times. “…H-hi.”

“I figured you would have been sent here.” She raised an eyebrow. “Mind if I come in? I brought you a treat.”

“…Sure?” Slowly getting over his shock but still confused as ever, Coop pointed at the uncomfortable plastic chair against the wall. “Feel free, I guess.”

“Thanks, kid.” She dragged the chair over and sat down next to him, pulling the backpack into her lap as she did so. “Didn’t get to introduce myself before. I’m Arya.” They shook hands.

“Coop. Sam Cooper.”

“I stole some cans of fruit salad, Coop.” Arya grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You want one?”

He glanced over at the tray of unappetizing hospital rations sitting on the dresser. “…Yeah. Thanks.” He accepted the can as she passed it to him, and in turn passed her one of the plastic multi utensils from his tray.

“Cheers, Coop.”

====================

Coop is/was going to be the eventual owner of Farthen Dur’s veterans bar. He’s good friends with Arya, Faolin and Glenwing, even occasionally using them as unofficial bouncers when things got rough or getting them to play music on slow nights to draw in customers.

MIC’s Glenwing is also an amputee, having lost his arm in the ambush that starts off the series, but his recovery was during the time that Eragon and Co are doing their thing and isn’t seen. I wanted to display the strength that many veterans who return from combat with missing limbs have to go through the stress and struggles that PT puts them through. A local man I am friends with lost his leg and he’s incredibly open about his experience, and it really struck a chord in me.

Alas, I never could pick this one up again. It felt too song fic like when I thought about later parts. Sam Cooper is a staple to much of my mental map of MIC though, and will always be ‘canon’ in my little corner of the IC world.

Cheers mates.

Oh right. Arya’s patch is what she, Faolin and Glen ‘homebrewed’ for their rank and division to better fit in with the Varden’s military structure. The motto translates very roughly (with some tinkering) to ‘Unconquerable Guardians of Fate’ because edgy.