#Travel Insurance Assistance
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No Mandatory Insurance in Bhutan? Don't Get Caught Out: Get Travel Insurance!
Planning a dream trip to the majestic kingdom of Bhutan? Great news! Bhutan recently lifted its mandatory travel insurance requirement, streamlining the visa process. But hold on a minute before you celebrate skipping that extra cost. While the mandatory requirement is gone, travel insurance for Bhutan remains a wise decision – here's why:
Peace of Mind in the Himalayas:
Bhutan is known for its breathtaking mountain beauty, but even paradise can experience unexpected disruptions. Travel insurance provides a safety net in case of:
Trip Cancellation or Interruption: Imagine booking a once-in-a-lifetime trek, only to have it cancelled due to a sudden landslide or illness. Travel insurance can reimburse your prepaid expenses, ensuring you don't lose out financially.
Medical Emergencies: Medical care in Bhutan, while improving, might not be readily available in remote areas. Travel insurance can cover medical costs in case of accidents or sudden illness during your trip.
Beyond the Basics:
While cancellation and medical coverage are crucial, consider these additional benefits travel insurance can offer:
Travel Delay Coverage: Bhutan's remoteness can sometimes lead to flight delays due to bad weather or mechanical issues. Travel delay coverage can help offset the cost of meals or accommodation if your trip is significantly delayed.
Baggage Loss or Delay: Lost luggage can put a damper on any trip. Baggage delay coverage can help you purchase essentials while you wait for your belongings to arrive.
Emergency Evacuation: In rare cases, natural disasters or political unrest might necessitate an evacuation from Bhutan. Evacuation coverage can help cover the costs of getting you to safety.
Remember:
Read the Fine Print: Not all travel insurance policies are created equal. Carefully review the terms and exclusions to ensure the plan covers your specific needs and potential risks in Bhutan.
Tailor Your Coverage: Consider the activities you plan in Bhutan – trekking, mountain biking – and choose a policy that offers appropriate coverage for adventure travel.
Bhutan's relaxed visa policy is fantastic news for travelers. But remember, Travel Insurance goes beyond visa requirements. It's an investment in peace of mind, ensuring a smooth and stress-free journey through the Land of the Thunder Dragon.
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Unlock the Secrets of Travel: A Traveler's Guide
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Today. Tomorrow.
Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.
TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending
You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world.
Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.
That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.
As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.
Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.
Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"
"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.
"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.
"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.
You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.
As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.
After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.
While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.
As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.
You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.
When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.
"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.
"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."
"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"
"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."
You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.
"Yep."
"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."
"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."
A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.
As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy.
"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.
"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.
"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.
"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.
"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.
"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"
You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.
After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"
Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."
He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."
"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.
As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.
When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?
You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.
Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.
"I'm sorry again."
"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.
"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.
Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.
"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."
"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"
You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."
She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."
"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.
"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.
"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."
"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.
"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.
"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.
"You don't have to, Aitana."
"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"
—
—
—
The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week.
As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.
"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.
"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.
"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.
You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.
"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.
"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.
"Two is not too many!"
"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."
"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.
"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.
"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."
"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."
"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.
You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.
"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.
"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."
Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.
She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"
"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.
“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.”
You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.
"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"
"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."
"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.
"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.
"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.
"Don't you dare!"
You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing.
As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.
She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."
"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.
"Do you want me to lose my job?"
"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.
"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.
You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you.
You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.
Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.
You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.
Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"
"What-"
"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.
You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.
“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”
—
—
—
"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."
You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.
This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.
Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.
—
That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.
"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.
"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.
Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"
Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"
"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.
"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.
Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.
—
Two hours later, you return to work.
"Hey!" you greet Eva.
"Hey! How was the appointment?"
"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."
"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."
Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.
"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.
"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.
"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.
"Maybe, but she cares about you."
"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."
"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"
"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.
"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.
"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."
"Why?"
"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."
"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.
"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.
"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."
"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."
That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.
"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."
You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.
The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.
Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.
"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.
"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.
"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.
"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"
"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.
"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.
"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"
She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."
You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.
"I'll show you who's the best."
"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."
"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.
"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.
"Definitely."
You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"
"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.
"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.
"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."
"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.
"Like?" she asks, smiling back.
"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."
"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.
"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"
"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.
"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Definitely."
You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.
—
—
The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.
"Why are you so happy?" she asked.
"Just the usual," you shrugged.
"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"
"She does have a name, you know."
"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"
"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."
"Then I'll be out of your way."
"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."
"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."
—
Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.
What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.
As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.
"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.
"Yeah."
"How was it?"
"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.
"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.
You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"
She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.
"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.
"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."
"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."
"Maybe that's why we get along."
"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."
She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.
"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.
"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.
"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.
"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.
"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.
"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.
"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.
"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."
For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.
She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.
"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.
"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."
"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.
"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.
"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.
"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.
"No challenge. It's a fact."
"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."
"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.
"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."
"What's plan B?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"I kinda do?"
"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.
It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.
She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours.
She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.
She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.
She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"
"Definitely."
"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.
"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"
"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."
"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.
There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.
—
Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.
"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.
"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.
"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.
"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.
"You live in Manchester!"
"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."
"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.
"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.
He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.
"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.
"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."
"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."
"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."
"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.
"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.
"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."
"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.
"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."
Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."
After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.
"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.
"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."
"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.
"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.
Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."
"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.
"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."
"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.
"No particular reason," you lied.
"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.
—
—
Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.
On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.
Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.
"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.
Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."
"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.
During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.
"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.
"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.
"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.
"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.
"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.
"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.
"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.
Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.
Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."
"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.
"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.
"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.
"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.
"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.
"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.
—
—
Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.
"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.
"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.
"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.
"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.
"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.
You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."
"You need to tell her," Eva urged.
"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.
"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.
"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.
"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.
—
At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.
The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly. 
In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.
However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.
**You:** Where are you?
**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.
**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?
**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?
**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?
Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.
“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”
She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”
“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.
“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”
“Yeah!”
“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”
“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”
Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.
“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”
He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.
As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.
“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”
“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”
“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”
“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”
“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”
“Can I say one thing?”
“Then you’ll shush?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”
“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.
“Ow!”
“You deserved it.”
“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”
You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”
“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.
—
She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.
“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.
“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”
You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.
“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.
“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.
She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.
“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”
“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”
You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.
“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.
“Maybe.”
“What was plan B, then?”
“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.
“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.
You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.
You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.
“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.
“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”
Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.
“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.
“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.
“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.
“Doing what?”
“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”
She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.
You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.
“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.
It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.
“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”
You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.
“Aitana, I have ca—”
The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.
“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.
You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”
You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.
—
Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.
The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.
Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.
So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.
You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.
The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.
A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment.
“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.
“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”
“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”
“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.
“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.
“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”
She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”
“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.
“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”
“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.
“You have your first what?”
“Can I have a kiss?”
“What?”
“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.
“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.
“Wait. Why are we outside?”
“I’m taking you home.” She states.
“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.
“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”
“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.
She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.
She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”
She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.
“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.
“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.
“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly.
“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously.
“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.
“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.”
“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.
“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.
**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.
The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.
“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.
“We are at my home.”
You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.
“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.
“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”
“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.
You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.
“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”
“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”
“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.
So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”
“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”
You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”
You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.
“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.
“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”
“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.
“You promise?” You asked her seriously.
“Yes.”
“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”
“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.
Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.
As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.
“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”
“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.
“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”
“Then we’ll both take it.”
“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”
She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”
She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.
—
—
The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.
Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.
“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.
“Coffee?” she offered.
“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”
“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.
“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”
“Aitana, I have cancer.”
Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.
“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.
“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.
“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”
“Where is it?”
“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.
“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.
“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”
“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”
“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.
“What—”
“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”
“And so?”
“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”
“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”
“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”
“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”
She nodded confidently.
“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.
She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”
“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.
“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.
“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”
“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.
"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.
She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.
You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.
"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.
"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.
She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.
"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.
"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.
**Eva** Fucking finally!
Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!
"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.
The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.
"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.
You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.
Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.
Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.
"I told her," you confess.
He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"
"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"
"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."
—
Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.
"Damn it."
In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.
Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.
"Hey," he says.
"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.
"You good?"
"I'm good. Just tired."
"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.
"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.
"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.
"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.
—
—
Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.
Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.
You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.
"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.
"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.
"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."
You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.
"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.
"They're just fruit," she chuckles.
"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.
"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”
"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"
For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.
"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.
"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.
"Are you sure?" You check once again.
"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.
—
Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.
"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.
"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.
You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.
Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.
She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.
"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.
She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."
Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.
"Hey," he whispers.
Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."
He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.
"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."
"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.
She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.
"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.
"Ciro is here," she informed you.
"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.
"Hey, how was chemo?"
"Tiring," you replied.
"I can see," he chuckled.
You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."
You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."
"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.
"You are too comfortable!" you replied.
"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.
"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.
As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.
"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.
—
Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.
"Where's—"
"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.
—
—
For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her.
She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.
Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.
You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.
You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.
"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.
"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.
You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.
One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.
"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.
"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."
"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.
"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."
"Wha—"
"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.
"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.
—
You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.
Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.
He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"
"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.
"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.
He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."
You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.
"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.
"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.
"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.
"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.
"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.
"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.
You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-
—
—
After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.
"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.
"She's not a lost puppy."
"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."
"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.
"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.
"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."
"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."
"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."
"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.
"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.
"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.
"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."
You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination.
#woso imagine#barca femeni#woso x reader#aitana bonmati x reader#aitana bonmati#alexia putellas#woso fic#barcelona femeni
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Man, we really lost when we decided that the best way to feel safe or to try to prevent bad things from happening is to assume malicious intent from everyone and police every little fucking thing about existing.
Want to go shopping? You'll be treated like a thief. Security cameras, anti-theft sensors by the door, and a staff that may or may not follow you around isn't enough; we're also putting security tags on every single piece of $4 underwear in the bargain bin and keeping everything on the shelves under lock and key, so you can't even look at it without staff assistance/supervision. No, cameras and staff monitoring checkouts isn't enough. We also need someone else searching your bags and verifying your receipts at the door. (And god help you if a security sensor somewhere didn't get deactivated properly and the door alarm goes off.)
Are you a student taking an exam? We've already decided you're a cheater. Of course you are — all students cheat. So you get assigned, spaced out seats in the testing room, surrounded by cameras. Show us your photo ID at the door. Nothing goes in the room with you but your pencil. Leave your phone, wallet, water, and anything else in a locker outside. All your jewelry, too. No long sleeves. Let us check your hair/headbands/pockets/ears/religious garb in case you're smuggling something in. Need to leave for the restroom? No, you don't, or your exam is done. Emergency? You can choose between literally shitting yourself or failing your course and risking expulsion for cheating.
Online exam? Prepare to be subject to literal spyware. Your eyes better not waver a fraction out of the "acceptable" gaze window. Don't press any button you're not supposed to or mis-click anything; that's proof you're trying to cheat. Don't even think about shifting in your seat, even if your test is two hours long.
Do you work? It'd better be at top speed and no errors at all times. We have security cameras trained on you every moment, sensitive enough to read the text of any paper you handle. We're tracking exactly what you do and how fast. Did your metrics slip for even a second? Unacceptable, even if your rate is otherwise within our "acceptable" range, because we know you can work faster. Yawn? How dare you — we don't pay you to be tired. You're not working hard enough. You must not have enough to do — your requirements have now tripled and we've cut your pay as an incentive not to waste time again. Make a mistake? You must have done it on purpose. You must be trying to steal or sabotage. We'll be evaluating to see how quickly we can fire you and if we can press charges or sue you for damages.
Need to travel via plane? It doesn't matter if you're paying through the nose to do so; you're clearly a criminal who's only not committing a crime at this very moment because you're outnumbered by security officers. We need to question you excessively if you don't look exactly like your ID picture taken three years ago. Take off half your clothes and walk through our scanners that will basically show you without them. (Then prepare to be wanded, and possibly groped — maybe even by more than one person — and if we really feel like it, taken to another room to be stripped and questioned further.) You can't take some necessities with you. Your belongings will be x-rayed and pawed through and commented upon, and they're maybe even a reason to detain and question you further. Why does your purse have suspicious organic matter in it? No, that can't possibly be a bag of fruit snacks you bought from the kiosk 20 feet away; you're trying to hide explosives.
Need medication? You're lying. You're faking. You're just trying to get drugs. You're an addict. You're a dealer. No, you don't have a condition that really requires medication; if you just slept more/lost weight/did yoga/were a better person, you wouldn't have to feel like you need to use drugs. We don't care if your doctor says you need this medication — your insurance company says you don't. Oh, you can afford it anyway? At that price? You must be reselling. We need to investigate and put notes on your file.
Communicating via message? God forbid you take even a fraction of a second too long to respond. You must be trying to hide something. You're slacking off your work. You must be cheating on your partner. You must have a problem with the sender and are leaving them out of something. You left them on read; you're being a bitch. You edited a response or took too long to type something — you're actually being mean and manipulative by not just saying what was on your mind first. Company policy is we get to see everything on your devices. You shouldn't have a problem sharing your personal location/passwords/etc. with your partner if you're not up to no good.
Want to simply exist where a stranger might see you? That's suspicious. What are you doing out here? We don't recognize you. You must be stealing. You must be casing the houses or stores in this neighborhood. You must be looking for someone to rob/assault/harass/etc. You must be part of that rabble claiming they're protesting to cover up the nuisances and criminals they are. Why did you hold a door for me — are you trying to get behind me? Why have I seen you more than once while I'm shopping here — are you following me? Why did you smile at me — do you have a problem? Why are you walking down the street? Why are you sitting on a bench? Why are you visiting the library? Why are you eating alone at the cafe? You don't look like you belong here. You look like a creep. You need the police to come handle you. (If they use force, that just shows you were up to something and totally deserve it.)
Want to exist online? We need to know everything about you — your real name, address, email, age — to ensure you're not a criminal. But you're probably also lying. We need to spy on everything you do, too: every site you visit (and how long you spend there), every purchase you make, every message you send, every search you do. We will take everything you say in bad faith, so be careful about what you post. But it's also extremely suspicious if you don't post — who doesn't have an extensive social media presence these days? What are you trying to hide? You need to indicate that you think the right way. You aren't posting about this — you must not care; you must be a bad person. You deleted an old post — you must be trying to hide your awful views. You can't possibly just be removing things from your profile that no longer reflect who you are. You posted something that I don't like — I knew there was something off about you. It's not a leap to think you're also into worse things. You're probably a pervert. You're actually a criminal of the worst sort and this is an early warning sign for those of us who are smart enough to see it. We're only accusing you of these things NOW so you don't have an opportunity to do them.
Didn't you know? You need to be constantly watched and humiliated and inconvenienced and sometimes even attacked because that's the only thing standing in the way of bad things happening. If you find all this demeaning, there's something wrong with you. Only criminals would rather trade this for being less safe. You don't want us to go from thinking you're a criminal to knowing you're a criminal, do you?
...
Like, fuck. Aren't you tired of living like this???
Some of this stuff has been around for a long time, and it obviously isn't applied evenly across all demographics. But a lot of it has also gotten exponentially worse within the past few decades. Please don't ever accept any of this as normal or necessary or good, because it's not. I'm going insane watching people shrugging off the increasing infantilization and dehumanization of everyone just because this is all they can remember.
It doesn't have to be this way. Don't ever take this shit as a given — it wasn't that long ago that some of this would have been unthinkable. And the instant someone starts talking about doing things a certain way/supporting certain things because of "safety" or "security," be very careful about blindly agreeing with them. We lose very real, important things in pursuit of the nebulous concept of "safety."
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Tarot Cards as Professions
Navigation: Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedback Tips
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Major Arcanas:
The Fool: Work with abroad, connections with imports, language teacher, multinationals, entrepreneur, intern, college student, art major.
The Magician: Entrepreneur, job that needs skill with the hands (acupuncture, hairdresser, artisan), actor, salesperson, influencer.
The High Priestess: Education, especially children, nutrition, psychology, cook, housewife, food engineering, toy factory, fortuneteller, spiritual advisor, librarian.
The Empress: Management, business administration, foreign trade, secretariat, translation, decoration, stay-at-home mom, model, cook, farmer.
The Emperor: Business administration, work related to areas of technological innovation, the military or sportsmen, CEO, tycoon.
The Hierophant: Philanthropic areas, ONGs, religious work, social work, diplomacy, and a degree, journalism, writer, editor, priest, spiritual guru, politician.
The Lovers: Sales area in any sector, tourism, theater, advertising, the arts in general, porn star, stripper, masseuse.
The Chariot: Activities related to transport, cars, the latest technology, chauffeur, mechanic, athlete.
Strength: Aesthetics, physical education and various body therapies, medicine, zoologist.
The Hermit: Teacher, writer, doctor, antique dealer, restorer, librarian, gardener.
Wheel of Fortune: Financial market, exchange offices, casinos, lottery houses, stock exchanges, and areas related to public relations, hospitality, game show host.
Justice: Public jobs, won through competitions, politics, police, with government positions, in the diplomatic area, law, insurance company worker.
The Hanged Man: Nurse, auditor, inspector, porter, secretariat, general assistants, yoga instructor, prison guard, philanthropist.
Death: Doctor, farmer, geologist, business administrator, gardener, accountant, assassin, death row executioner, surgeon.
Temperance: Working with liquids in general or with what is transported in liquid form such as alcoholic beverages, medicines, juices. chemist, chef, food critic, regional or even international traffic.
The Devil: Does not limit the individual to a professional wing, so he can also go to extremes for the desire he has, such as landlord, drug lord, sex trafficker.
The Tower: Social assistance, humanitarian aid, medicine, firefighter, police officer, construction worker.
The Star: Music, painting, sculpture, poetry, cinema, makeup artist, dressmaker, beautician, agent, promoter, sound artist, astronomer, harpist, dealer, meteorologist.
The Moon: Oceanographers, sailors, fishermen, owners of bars and restaurants or nightclubs, artists in general, medium, hypnotist, psychiatrist.
The Sun: Motivational speaker, entertainer, comedian, social relationships, work with the public, artist in general, member of society.
Judgment: Work done at home, connection with the law, lawyer, judge, work with disabled or people excluded from society, social assistance, board member, executive producer, director.
The World: Pharmacist, massage therapist, scientist, teacher, community leader, religious leader or priest, fashion designer, makeup artist, interior decorator.
Wands:
Creative industries such as advertising, marketing, and graphic design.
Entrepreneurship and starting your own business.
Athletics, sports coaching, or physical training.
Outdoor jobs like park ranger or tour guide.
Event planning or organizing.
Firefighters or rescue workers.
Ace of Wands: Entrepreneur, startup founder, motivational speaker, fitness coach, personal trainer.
Two of Wands: Business strategist, project manager, travel agent, international consultant, import/export specialist.
Three of Wands: Sales representative, marketing manager, e-commerce entrepreneur, market researcher, international trade coordinator.
Four of Wands: Event planner, wedding coordinator, party organizer, festival manager, hospitality industry professional.
Five of Wands: Conflict resolution specialist, mediator, lawyer, debate coach, competitive sports coach.
Six of Wands: Public relations manager, spokesperson, social media influencer, motivational speaker, winning athlete.
Seven of Wands: Defense attorney, human rights activist, political campaigner, advocate, civil liberties lawyer.
Eight of Wands: Courier, delivery driver, airline pilot, travel blogger, expedition guide.
Nine of Wands: Security guard, bodyguard, soldier, endurance athlete, self-defense instructor.
Ten of Wands: Overworked entrepreneur, project manager, event organizer, professional organizer, heavy equipment operator.
Page of Wands: Assistant in a creative field, aspiring artist, intern in a startup, social media coordinator, apprentice.
Knight of Wands: Travel journalist, adventure tour guide, professional athlete, race car driver, stunt performer.
Queen of Wands: CEO, business owner, charismatic leader, life coach, influential speaker.
King of Wands: Executive manager, entrepreneur, leadership coach, consultant, director of a creative agency.
Cups:
Counseling, therapy, or social work.
Hospitality industry, including restaurant management and bartending.
Wedding planner or event coordinator.
Artistic fields like poetry, writing, or acting.
Healing professions such as nursing or holistic therapy.
Psychologist or counselor specializing in emotions and relationships.
Ace of Cups: Therapist, counselor, social worker, holistic healer, emotional support specialist.
Two of Cups: Marriage counselor, matchmaker, relationship coach, wedding planner, love psychic.
Three of Cups: Event organizer, party planner, celebratory event coordinator, community organizer.
Four of Cups: Meditation teacher, mindfulness coach, spiritual counselor, psychologist, therapist.
Five of Cups: Grief counselor, trauma therapist, hospice worker, emotional healing practitioner, bereavement support.
Six of Cups: Child psychologist, teacher, daycare worker, children's book author, pediatric nurse.
Seven of Cups: Creative writer, fantasy novelist, imaginative artist, dream analyst, visionary.
Eight of Cups: Travel blogger, adventure seeker, spiritual pilgrim, explorer, wanderlust photographer.
Nine of Cups: Life coach, happiness consultant, gratitude coach, self-help author, wellness retreat organizer.
Ten of Cups: Family therapist, marriage and family counselor, foster care advocate, wedding planner, family mediator.
Page of Cups: Creative writer, artist in training, intuitive healer, aspiring therapist, dream interpreter.
Knight of Cups: Actor, romantic poet, musician, art therapist, love and relationship coach.
Queen of Cups: Psychic reader, intuitive healer, counselor, compassionate caregiver, therapist.
King of Cups: Therapist, counselor, intuitive mentor, emotional intelligence trainer, psychologist.
Swords:
Legal professions like lawyers, judges, or law enforcement officers.
Journalists, reporters, or investigators.
IT specialists, computer programmers, or hackers.
Teachers or professors specializing in critical thinking or philosophy.
Military or defense-related careers.
Strategic planners or analysts.
Ace of Swords: Lawyer, judge, legal consultant, investigative journalist, strategic planner.
Two of Swords: Mediator, conflict resolution specialist, negotiator, diplomat, relationship counselor.
Three of Swords: Divorce lawyer, grief counselor, trauma therapist, emotional healer, heart surgeon.
Four of Swords: Rest and relaxation specialist, meditation teacher, spiritual retreat organizer, yoga instructor.
Five of Swords: Military strategist, competitive sports coach, lawyer specializing in litigation, debate coach.
Six of Swords: Travel agent, relocation consultant, therapist specializing in transitions, boat captain.
Seven of Swords: Private investigator, spy, intelligence analyst, cybersecurity expert, undercover agent.
Eight of Swords: Social justice lawyer, human rights advocate, disability rights activist, therapist specializing in limiting beliefs.
Nine of Swords: Insomnia specialist, anxiety therapist, nightmare counselor, sleep coach, mental health counselor.
Ten of Swords: Surgeon, coroner, forensic scientist, mortician, grief counselor.
Page of Swords: Researcher, journalist, fact-checker, apprentice in a legal field, investigative reporter.
Knight of Swords: Military officer, police officer, attorney, competitive fencer, conflict resolution specialist.
Queen of Swords: Judge, lawyer, critic, journalist, literary agent.
King of Swords: Judge, attorney, CEO, strategist, military general.
Pentacles:
Financial advisors or investment bankers.
Real estate agents or property developers.
Agriculture, farming, or gardening.
Architects, builders, or construction workers.
Conservationists or environmentalists.
Accountants or bookkeepers.
Ace of Pentacles: Financial advisor, investment banker, wealth manager, entrepreneur, luxury goods retailer.
Two of Pentacles: Financial analyst, accountant, bookkeeper, event planner, stock trader.
Three of Pentacles: Architect, contractor, project manager, teamwork facilitator, craftsman.
Four of Pentacles: Wealth manager, investor, financial planner, asset protection specialist, treasurer.
Five of Pentacles: Social worker, philanthropist, charity organizer, financial counselor, volunteer.
Six of Pentacles: Philanthropist, humanitarian worker, non-profit manager, social worker, charitable fundraiser.
Seven of Pentacles: Gardener, farmer, agricultural consultant, sustainability expert, botanist.
Eight of Pentacles: Craftsperson, artisan, apprentice, skilled tradesperson, technical trainer.
Nine of Pentacles: Luxury brand manager, independent business owner, successful entrepreneur, vineyard owner, art collector.
Ten of Pentacles: Real estate developer, property investor, family business owner, generational wealth manager, financial advisor.
Page of Pentacles: Intern, student, apprentice in a practical field, aspiring entrepreneur, entry-level employee.
Knight of Pentacles: Accountant, financial planner, farmer, skilled tradesperson, meticulous worker.
Queen of Pentacles: CEO, business owner, property developer, hospitality industry entrepreneur, financial advisor.
King of Pentacles: CEO, business mogul, successful investor, high-level executive, financial consultant.
(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved
#tarot#tarot tips#tarot meanings#divination#cards#witch#witchcraft#witchblr#astroblr#career#astrojulia#all about tarot#tarot witch#major arcana#minor arcana#tarot and career
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7th Ruler and Meeting Spouse
So on request from one of my follower, I decided to make this post. It is not necessary that the house placement of 7th ruler must always indicate the environment or how you meet them.
Sometimes, the house location of Venus or Jupiter can work. Sometimes even the sign placement of Venus or Jupiter can indicate where you meet spouse. So you need to apply this with judgment.
7th Ruler in 1st : In traditional societies, a classic arranged marriage where bride and groom meet in presence of family. Sometimes you may know the person from childhood, like they are your relative or stayed in same house as you did. In western world, this can mean your spouse sees you somewhere and then approaches you for marriage.
7th Ruler in 2nd: This can mean again a marriage arranged by your family. Even in western societies, this can mean your family has selected one particular person already, may be they are your family friend from childhood or your family does business with their parents and they take over etc..may meet them at work too or when you go to bank or shopping.
7th Ruler in 3rd : This can mean marriage through matrimony or newspaper classifieds in traditional societies. In western world, can men through dating apps, all kinds of social media. You may meet them as team mates at office. You travel to a seminar or lecture and meet them there. You may meet at school, college, places of learning or your friends/siblings introduce you to them. They may be friends of friends.
7th Ruler in 4th: This can mean an arranged marriage by family in traditional societies. You may marry a relative too or someone known to your family circle. They may be distantly connected to your family. you may marry someone from your childhood, so someone you went to school with and later you propose them. Similar to 2nd house at times. You may also meet at office.
7th Ruler in 5th: This can mean you meet your spouse at a very young age like 7 to 10 years as 5th house is children. So you may meet them in school, playgrounds or they were your neighbors when you were a kid. Can meet at social parties, places of fun , drama theatres, magic shows, exhibition, political events, theme parks for children, children birthday parties etc.
7th Ruler in 6th: This can mean you meet them at work, you may meet at supermarket, gym, when you visit a doctor, or places where animals are cared for like PETA, medical shops, relief camps, donation places, NGO's etc.
7th Ruler in 7th: This can mean a formal arranged marriage. You may meet at foreign places or at weddings, social events or through your business partners.
7th Ruler in 8th : Nothing specific, you may meet them during emergencies or they come into your life suddenly out of nowhere like friends turning into lovers which you didn't plan for or marrying your friend's spouse after they get divorce..may be when you go to a funeral, you may meet at night clubs, forbidden places or they may be introduced when you get some therapy like they are your psychiatrist friend or your astrologer's friend. An astrologer may even give hints about your spouse. someone who may have had marriage already. You may also meet at places related to money like insurances, taxes, bank loans etc.
7th Ruler in 9th: You may meet them at college, university, when you pursue bachelors or masters. You may meet at religious places like temple or church or when you go to a pilgrimage. Sometimes this can also mean a marriage based on law like court marriage, you may meet at a trial, you may meet when you go abroad or you meet a foreigner online.
7th Ruler in 10th : You may meet them at work, in context of your job, or your boss introduces you to them, I have seen some cases where the person was personal assistant to boss and then they got married later, you may meet through business conferences or at Government offices, may be you need to renew some Govt. document etc.
7th Ruler in 11th: You may meet them over internet, dating apps, matrimony websites, business meetings or through professional colleagues. They may be your friend initially and becomes lover later. You both may have common friends. If you do business, then in context of advertisements, promotion campaigns etc, They may even be a celebrity.
7th Ruler in 12th: You may meet in foreign lands, when you go abroad, in hospitals, airports. I have seen one case, the guy was a travel agent and booked tickets for his client and went to airport to send off his client and met his wife there as she was client's sister. Meeting could be destined or fated in some way.
Book your Spouse Reading now. DM here.
#astrology#astro observations#astrology observation#astrology observations#7th lord in 3rd house#7th lord in 11th house#7th lord#marriage astrology#marriage in astrology#zodiac sign#zodiac#vedic astrology#vedic astro notes#vedic astro observations#astro community
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Glorified Assistant (Iridescent, Part 2)
A/N: This is more for Maeve and Spencer!! And honestly I hate writing enemies to lovers, I believe in makeout on sight, so enjoy me trying to make a believable hatred.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.
Summary: She’s been given paid leave to basically be Spencer’s assistant, and it almost isn’t worth it.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™
Parts: Pt1, Pt3
Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.
Here is more of Maeve and Spencer.
Maeve thought she was home and free.
She hadn’t been fired (score!), and now Spencer was going away for his mandated thirty days off. Apparently he was doing some teaching at the local college, good for him, it also means they won’t have to interact and hopefully he gets his head out of his ass so that she doesn’t cry when they work together.
They’d left on a particularly sore note, considering that she’d been the one to drive him home and he made it very clear how much he hated the entire interaction.
Of course, he didn’t say a word, struggling to fit into her little, gorgeous dark blue mini and then clenching white-knuckled to his knees for the entire journey. He, actually, didn’t say a thing until he got out of the car, slamming the door shut and turning to scowl at her.
“You’re a fucking maniac. Take some more damn lessons.”
As he stormed off into his apartment, annoyingly only five minutes from her own building, she grumbled under her breath. She’d only grazed maybe one curb, and that wasn’t even her fault, it jumped out at her.
Whatever, she’d been able to sleep easy knowing that she wouldn’t have to see him for several more weeks, giving her time to prepare.
…
Until she was woken by her phone ringing at 5am, answering it blindly because she’s used to work calling her at stupid hours. It was her boss.. however, she was asked to take thirty days of paid leave - which she’s surprised the Bureau can even afford - to be the one to take Spencer too and from the college and just kind of shepherd him around for whatever he needed.
Apparently his car, old and vintage as it was, had been idle for too long and wouldn’t start. Since Spencer can’t be bothered to sort it out, and Maeve lives closest, and she’s his partner, obviously this falls to her to deal with.
Maeve, forever a pushover and unable to say no to any figure of authority, agreed and practically threw her phone across the room when she was done.
Understandably, she didn’t get any more sleep, getting ready for the day with the only solace that he looks like an idiot in her car. Making them both a coffee and putting them into her reusable travel cups, trying not to listen to the little voice telling her to drive into a wall.
After about ten minutes of calling him and getting no answer, she gets out of her illegally parked car and storms up. Although it’s really hard to storm anywhere in an elevator.
Hammering on his door, it took all of two seconds before it flew open and he barged past her, causing her to scowl over at him.
“Damn! Watch it! What’s your problem today?”
He barely looked at her, locking the door behind her as he struggled with a bunch of papers in his hands. A harsh frown on his face that matched his equally-pissed voice.
“Fucking coffee machine broke.”
“I got you one already, Christ..” Sucking in a breath and following after him as he goes for the stairs, thankfully he only lives on the third floor. “What’s with the papers?”
Spencer went ahead of her on the stairs, and she found herself rushing after him and his stupidly long legs. Cursing him with all the colourful words that she knows on her way after him.
“Car insurance, I’m driving today.”
Insurance? He got insured on her car without telling her? All to avoid her driving. This man is a level of petty that teenage girls aspire to be, and she has to resist the urge to pout as she trailed out of the building after him.
“But why? My driving wasn’t--”
“Stop asking so many questions and get in your little clown car.”
Quietly fuming, she didn’t even thank him as he held open the passenger door for her, sliding into the seat and picking up her coffee. Drinking it and trying to squash the thoughts of throttling him.
As he gets into the driver seat and immediately starts rearranging everything, her mirrors, seat, radio, she wonders just how long it would take for someone to realise that he’s missing.
Before he even drove off, gripping the wheel far too hard for her liking, he spoke lowly and glared ahead. As if he was stopping himself from glaring at her.
“Don’t come up to my apartment again. I will come to you. I expect you to be ready by six thirty, and since you have a working machine, you can make the coffees.”
“.. just drive already.”
She’s going to kill him by the end of this.
Considering she got paid to leave to, essentially, be Spencer’s glorified assistant, she decided to make the most of it.
Plus, annoyingly, his lectures are actually pretty interesting - as much as she tried to stop giving a shit. Between running to get him more coffees, again assistant, and handing out things to the students, she gets to sit and just listen to him talk about whatever content he chooses.
Psychopaths, mainly, their brains and behaviours, which she enjoyed immensely when she studied psychology and criminology. Damn, but.. he’s really good to listen to.
By the third lecture of the day, she was sat at the desk to the side of the platform, usually reserved for teaching assistants, scribbling in a pretty lilac notebook she bought from the student store. Taking actual notes for his lecture, thoroughly enjoying the content of the lecture and not the fact that it’s Spencer.
Spencer had noticed, immediately, of course, and hated it.
He doesn’t know what she’s hoping to achieve, or prove, because it definitely isn’t impressing him, and he can’t fathom the idea that she’s doing the work to just do the work. Why would she, after he’s purposely been an ass to her purely for existing.
There’s no way she’s actually just paying attention.
So, to test her, for his own morbid curiosity and the need to try and embarrass her in front of all these people, he decided it would be fun to throw random questions to her. Not even related to the topic he was covering. To him, she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to handle stress well.
As he proposed hypothetical questions to the students, he turned to Maeve with a grin on his face, which she finds much more unnerving than a scowl. Hands clapping together as he brought all the attention onto her.
“And for my.. assistant.” Oh, yeah, she absolutely hates that, even more than his smug little grin. “What are the disadvantages of Mary Ainsworth’s study when examining infant attachment?”
Now it was time for her own smug little grin to settle on her lips, which he certainly didn’t like the implications of.
It was clear that he hadn’t expected her to know the answer, or even have enough of a knowledge base to even remotely know what he was talking about. Thankfully she had always been a pushover, and when her friends begged for her to sit in on their presentations in college, she learnt a lot. Especially the ones who presented developmental psychology.
Also, a few times she opted to speak in front of lectures purely because she felt bad for the lecturers when no one would volunteer, which meant she was quickly forced to grow out of her fear of public speaking. Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, getting comfortable.
“Mary Ainsworth was American. And she made an American based model, off American children and families, testing it solely in America. It cannot be generalised to other countries.”
“But-”
He tried to cut her off, but she wasn’t done yet. That wasn’t nearly enough to feel like she’d finally won something between them.
“And. When it was, by Kroonenberg and Ijzendoorn, it was proven to have terrible generalisation. Because other cultures and countries have very different ways of rearing children that don’t fit her American guidelines.”
Spencer looked like he wanted to vault the desk and strangle her, and if it weren’t for the crowd of whispering students, he probably would’ve done. Giving him a soft smile, which only he knew was completely fake, she picked her pen back up and tapped her notebook.
“If that’s all, Doctor Reid, I was enjoying your lecture on psychopathic brains.”
And as she looks back down, he has to force himself to continue lecturing to curb the rumours he can hear being created by suddenly-dejected female students. Trying not to sigh at the knowledge that people are going to think they’re sleeping together.
Throwing one last glare her way, not even needing his profiling to know that she so gets off on calling him ‘Doctor Reid’. The simultaneous irritation and begrudging admiration was making him dizzy, wanting nothing more to chuck something at her head.
Whatever, on the way home, he’ll take the longest route he knows to run her petrol down to nothing. Anything to get another mental tally on their growing rivalry.
Want more?! Good!
#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x oc
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bg3 companion camp habits
ft. astarion, karlach, wyll, shadowheart, lae'zel, gale & halsin
Astarion
earliest to bed, earliest to rise. it leaves more time to sneak around at night. unfortunately for him that means lae'zel has him on hunting duty, in order to find something substantial for dinner the next day.
insures team tadpole camps within walking distance of some source of running water. if not running water, a lake; if not a lake, a pond. after tagging around with tav all day and coming home covered in blood, his daily soaks are sacred
despite actually not needing to sleep, his tent is the cushiest in camp: his bedroll is piled high with luxurious furs and silken pillows
trances with curlers in his hair. that coif doesn't maintain itself y'know, as much as astarion would like you to think it does
Karlach
her tent is open-air in order to reduce the likelihood she catches it on fire overnight
simultaneously a super-light sleeper while retaining the the ability to fall asleep within five minutes in any given environment, on any given surface. ten years in avernus have honed those survival instincts into a sharp edge, and she can be up and ready to brawl in an instant
banned from contributing to dinner on account of infernal taste buds: the amount of chili powder she'd added to the group soup that one time almost killed shadowheart and made astarion get the night sweats for the first time in 200 years
her contributions to camp including anything involving copious amounts of hot water. unfortunately, this usually has her stuck on laundry duty with halsin
Wyll
next to halsin and karlach, wyll's the most comfortable camping in the wilderness on a day-to-day basis. seven years as the blade of the frontiers meant wandering the sword coast looking for monsters, and not all of that was near civilization
crippling addiction to tea. picks up local varieties at every settlement the party passes through; it's what you see him swirling in that silver cup of his night to night.
while gale's in charge of dinner, wyll's in charge of breakfast. he's got a carafe of coffee on the fire when people start to rise, and there's always a pan of something delicious-smelling and ready to dish out by the time someone manages to wake up halsin.
he's had that ripped-up crop top he sleeps in since his teens, and it's been worth to that point of sweet age-soft. he has trouble sleeping in anything else at this point
Shadowheart
doesn't need as much sleep to function at full capacity the next day: she's perfectly fine on five or six hours. whether that's a lucky genetic twist of shadowheart's genetic heritage or a blessing of shar is anyone's guess - this usually has her as the second one awake
tends to volunteer for first watch and uses that time to pray
has a bit of a second sense for finding good campsites: places with highly defensible positions, a fresh water source, carefully tucked into the shadows of natural glades or high rocks
has one of the more elaborate hair routines in the group, second only to astarion's curl-care. she and the vampire spawn have a silent agreement to assist with setup and share haircare products when necessary.
Lae'zel
self-assigned camp commander (not camp mom - astarion tried to make a snide comment once and was glared down). her militaristic upbringing has left her the only one with enough organizational skills to insure the motley crew of team tadpole don't accidentally starve themselves to death in the wilderness
keeps an exacting inventory of what they have on hand, from food to spell-scrolls and spare socks and tadpoles in brain-jars, must to her chagrin. anything taken from the traveler's chest must be noted so she can keep track of what the team needs
created a chore chart. the chore chart is holy. it plays to everyone's strengths and evenly distributes labor. astarion once tried to fuck with it: he was left doing his own laundry for a week, much to his chagrin
as much as she'd like to brag about githyanki endurance, she requires an exacting eight hours of sleep to function. the rest of team tadpole insures she gets it, since nobody likes a grumpy githyanki
Gale
self-assigned camp cook within days of joining team tadpole. to his surprise, lae'zel completely agreed
has a few cookbooks stacked among the piles of literature around his tent, including a dog-eared recipe book from mama dekarios. his travel spice-rack was an additional gift from her as well, one he covets with all his heart.
could care less about his lion's mane and mostly resolves to slicking it back with whatever oil or grease they have on-hand first thing in the morning, but takes exacting care of his beard
has a bad tendency to stay up too late sleeping, and is subsequently the last one to rise first thing in the morning\
Halsin
doesn't even bother to set up his tent half the time, perfectly willing to spend the night in bear form. this has caused some confusion first thing in the morning when an actual bear wandered into camp one morning and wyll greeted it warmly, much to halsin's amusement
will grow goodberries to add to the morning's oatmeal or pancakes; secret weakness for coffee
tends to tackle laundry duty with karlach, mostly since the giant mountain of a druid is the best at actually toting mountains of blood-spoiled linens across camp.
assists with hunting duties, even if the meat he tends to bring backs is a little more roughed up compared to astarion's exsanguinated prey
bonus:
Tav
group oddball, usually ends up doing whatever odd chore lae'zel assigns them
unofficially in-charge of campfire entertainment, including breaking up fights between lae'zel and shadowheart over go-fish, or insuring astarion doesn't cheat during poker
the camp keeps meaning to buy them a tent. they never do. tav's been crashing around the campfire since the beginning, and they only actually get a tent once they have a significant other
not allowed to assist with dinner since the Noodle IncidentTM
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i hate to e-beg but here we go.
my name is irys, i'm a young trans person from poland, a country with the worst lgbt rights in the whole eu. for the past 5 months i've been trying to raise funds for my top surgery, as no insurance covers it, there are no non-profits that could help me with funding, my parents cannot assist me with costs this big, and i'm unable to work due to being disabled and studying full-time.
despite the time elapsed, i have barely managed to raise one-third of the total cost. i'm currently standing at
6886/21 000 PLN (32%)
(1690/5155 USD)
as the bare minimum to cover the surgery itself, outside of cost of travel, dressings, medication, accomodations etc, i need 17 700 PLN (4345 USD).
when starting this campaign i was hoping that by the summer, i would have been able to finally walk around flat chest like i've dreamed since i was 13 years old, but it's devastating to me to know that this won't be the case, and i have to go through one more summer of dysphoria and humiliation.
i'm only hoping that by the end of this year, i can finally wake up with the body i have always dreamed of.
FUNDRAISER:
THE SITE ABOVE ACCEPTS SECURE INTERNATIONAL DONATIONS, OTHERWISE A PАУРАL LINK IS INCLUDED IN THE DESCRIPTION
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Radio Free Monday
Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!
Ways to Give:
Edminister Engler is a recent widower who has now been diagnosed with cancer; he doesn't have health coverage and is too sick to work, so is raising funds to help find an oncologist and seek treatment. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.
secondalto was in a car accident in February that totaled her car, and she missed work through the end of the school year; insurance was slow to pay out and she didn't get another car (necessary for her job) until last month. Due to the staggered nature of her work, she is facing car and insurance payments, plus gas and other bills, that she won't be able to pay before they are due. She is raising funds for bills and is also offering fic beta services and handicrafts in return for donations; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
songspinner9 linked to a fundraiser for Wren, a young, chronically ill person trying to stay active in their community and studying for a Library Science degree. Insurance will not cover the new wheelchair they need to achieve their goals, so they are fundraising for the wheelchair and power assist; you can read more and support the fundraiser here.
Anon linked to a fundraiser for meowdistract/hauntedrph, a friend with Guillain-Barre Syndrome, which leaves her with limited mobility and weakness. She's offering commissions and raising funds via donation to help pay off debt and treat herself a little for her 30th birthday tomorrow. You can read more, reblog, and find giving/commission information here and there are also links to wishlists and donation options here.
maryellencarter is homeless and has recently moved cross-country to be closer to friends, and has finally been placed in a shelter; they are fundraising to keep their car insurance so they can travel to aid appointments and try to find a more permanent housing solution. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
Beth linked to First Draft Detroit, a Detroit metro region nonprofit intended to replace NaNoWriMo; they're holding their first fundraiser on October 5th. If you are local to Detroit you can buy a ticket to play one of several TTRPGs, plus a silent auction and a bake sale; if you are not local you can still donate to support the org. You can read more, buy a ticket, and support the fundraiser here.
Recurring Needs:
loversdoom has recently been diagnosed with PCOS and needs help to afford the prescribed birth control pills on top of living expenses and dental bills; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or give via paypal here.
onedollopofsourcream is fundraising to help support a large family including young children during a difficult time; they particularly need funds for needed medication (including insulin), and hopefully eventually to get out of an abusive living situation. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
chingaderita is raising funds to help their family get back on their feet after a house fire that left them in an unsafe living situation with black mold; their partner has also recently had oral surgery and many family members are unemployed, and they need funds for clean water, food, and cleaning until the mold can be taken care of. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
memprime linked to a fundraiser for a friend, virtualalternative, who needs help with cat vet bills after their cat had several blockages; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.
And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.
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When We Leave NEDA Behind, Where do We Go?
A Guide by Sharon Maxwell @heysharonmaxwell
NEDA has a long history of harming the communities it is supposed to serve. As we #leaveNEDAbehind, I encourage you to follow the following ED orgs who are committed to serving and supporting ALL folks with eating disorders.
The National Alliance for Eating Disorders
The National Alliance for Eating Disorders (“The Alliance”) is the leading national non-profit organization providing education, referrals, and support for all individuals experiencing eating disorders, as well as their loved ones. The Alliance’s services include:
Educational presentations and training days
Free, weekly therapist-led support groups nationwide (virtual and in-person) for those experiencing eating disorders and for their loved ones
Support and referrals through both a free helpline and comprehensive referral website/app
Direct, low-cost, life-saving, outpatient treatment to underinsured and uninsured adults in the south Florida community.
Unique and empowering Southern Smash scale smashing events and SmashTALK panel discussions.
@alliancefored | #notonemore | allianceforeatingdisorders.com
Project HEAL
Project HEAL (Help to Eat, Accept, and Live)’s mission is to break down systemic, healthcare, and financial barriers to eating disorder healing. Project Heal’s goal is to change the systems and, in the meantime, to provide life-saving support to people with eating disorders who the systems fail.
Project HEAL’s services include:
For those unsure of the next step in their eating disorder healing journey, Project HEAL provides free, impartial Clinical Assessments, followed by a comprehensive report with diagnosis, clinical recommendation, and referrals.
For those struggling to access treatment through their insurance, Project HEAL’s Insurance Navigation Program helps individuals understand their often confusing benefits and advocate on their behalf to get their treatment covered.
Project HEAL connects people to free Treatment Placements through the HEALers Circle, a national network of facilities and providers at every level of care. They also offer paid scholarships with providers with shared identities.
Project HEAL offers one-time Cash Assistance grants of $500-$1,500 to individuals who are unable to afford tertiary costs related to their treatment, i.e., housing and travel costs or insurance deductibles.
Crisis Textline: text HEALING to 741741 | www.theprojectheal.org
FEDUP
FEDUP (Fighting Eating Disorders in Underrepresented Populations) is a collective of trans+, intersex, and gender diverse people who believe eating disorders in marginalized communities are social justice issues. FEDUP’s mission is to make visible, interrupt, and undermine the disproportionately high incidence of eating disorders in trans and gender diverse individuals through radical community healing, recovery institution reform, research, empowerment, and education. FEDUP’s services include:
Support groups: FEDUP Closed Support Group for Gender-Diverse Folx, Support Group for Caregivers and Loved Ones of Trans & Intersex People With Eating Disorders, and Closed Support Group for QTBIPOC With Eds
Listing of FEDUP approved providers of therapy, counseling, nutrition services, and recovery coaches
Educational content about eating disorders
A conference for researchers, advocates, and clinicians in the eating disorder field where all attendees are empowered to participate, share their expertise, and learn from one another so that they can incorporate approaches that work - for our patients, our communities, and ourselves
@fedupcollective | fedupcollective.org
Nalgona Positivity Pride
Nalgona Positivity Pride is an unconventional eating disorder awareness organization that shines a light on the often-overlooked societal factors that perpetuate unrealistic and oppressive beauty and health standards. NPP offers a vial space for BIPOC to celebrate and embrace their bodies and identities. Nalgona Positivity Pride’s services include:
Education, such as public speaking services for universities, mental health and eating disorder organizations, and more as well as social media content
Consulting services for eating disorder providers and women of color entrepreneurs, including social media, branding, and event planning. Also, size diversity, creating eating disorder informed media, eating disorder harm reduction
An eating disorder harm reduction hub, including The EDHR Course and The EDHR Harm Reduction Community Services
2 eating disorder support groups: Sage and Spoon and The Eating Disorder Harm Reduction Community Circle
@nalgonapositivitypride | nalgonapositivitypride.com
Body Reborn
Body Reborn is a restorative space for people of color with disordered eating.
Body Reborn’s services include:
The Healing Collaborative - A free 8-week program for people of color. The program consists of three pillars: (1) Body Liberation, (2) Peer Support, and (3) Lifelong Community.
A non-hierarchical, discussion-driven conference that centers experiences of marginalized people in eating disorder care
@bodyreborn | bodyreborn.org
MEDA
MEDA (Multi-Service Eating Disorders Association) is dedicated to the prevention and compassionate treatment of eating disorders, so that every body has access to recovery and support. MEDA’s services include:
Assessments to individual therapy and groups, tailored treatment referrals. to hight levels of care, skill sessions to hels reach meal and snack goals, and 24/7/365 community available
The Sooner the Better helps communities learn the signs and symptoms of disordered eating, exercise, and body image.
MEDA offers presentations from a skilled mental health clinician on a variety of topics including Body Confidence, Eating Disorders, and Promoting Positive Body Culture in Your Schools and Homes.
MEDA also offers high-level clinical trainings for professionals working with eating disorders whether it is in the field of medicine, mental health, or education.
Annual national conference bringing over 275 people together to discuss the latest in eating disorder research and therapies
“Networking with a Purpose” meetings where clinicians come together to learn about specific aspects of treatment
Two graduate clinical interns are trained at MEDA every year, where they are supervised by clinicians and work directly with clients and loved ones.
@recoverwithmeda | medainc.org
ANAD
ANAD (National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders) provides free peer support to anyone struggling with an eating disorder. ANAD’s services include:
Eating Disorder Peer Support Groups
Recovery Mentorship Program offering free eating disorder support online for those who struggle with eating disorders but are motivated to recover. ANAD mentors are people who have walked the difficult road to recovery from their eating disorder and are recovered for at least 2 years.
Eating Disorder Treatment Directory
ANAD Approach Guides are designed to educate and “guide” its community on a wide range of topics, such as caregiving, pregnancy, binge eating, and navigating life after treatment.
@anadhelp | anad.org
heysharonmaxwell.com | #leaveNEDAbehind
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On 17th October 1821 Alexander Gardner, renowned photographer of the American Civil War was born in Paisley.
Some of you wmay not know the name but some of his the photographs should be instantly recognisable. As a young man in Glasgow, he had been a jeweller, then he became editor and publisher of a Glasgow newspaper.
Alexander Gardner was a great admirer of Robert Owen, who was largely responsible for the New Lanark Mills. In 1850, inspired by the New Harmony community established by Owen's son, Gardner, his brother and seven others travelled to the United States. They purchased land and established a cooperative community close to Monona, in Clayton County, Iowa. Gardner returned to Scotland to help raise more money and to recruit new members.
In May, 1851, Gardner visited the Great Exhibition in Hyde Park, where he saw the photographs of Matthew Brady, he would be his inspiration.
On returning to the US with his family in 1856 he learned many of his friends in Iowa had died or were seriously ill with tuberculosis, he decided to stay for a time in New York, where he sought out work with Brady, two years later with his mentors eyesight failing he was put in charge of the Washington Gallery.
Through his friendship with fellow Scot with Allan Pinkerton Gardner met Abraham Lincoln, who was then running for President, along with Brady they made 35 portraits of Abraham Lincoln during the 1860 presidential campaign.
On the outbreak of the American Civil War there was a dramatic increase in the demand for work at Brady's studios as soldiers wanted to be photographed in uniform before going to the front-line. Because all the photographs were given the Brady Studio tag it was he who was given the credit for the work, Gardner and around another 20 assistants however took the pictures. Gardner especially went beyond the front line. Now you have to remember that photography was still in it's infancy and subjects had to pose for pics, there was no action pics, with this in mind Gardner took his camera to the ditches and fields where thousands had fought and died, and pictured them as they lay sprawled at the moment of death. In the history of warfare, it had never been done before.
Perhaps it was a byline,commenting on the photographs in The New York Times in 1962 that read "Mr. Brady has done something to bring home to us the terrible reality and earnestness of war. If he has not brought bodies and laid them in our dooryards and along the streets, he has done something very like it. . . .By the aid of the magnifying glass, the very features of the slain may be distinguished.", that caused Gardner to go his own way in 1862, opening his own studio in Washington.
Gardner was back on the battlefields at Gettysburg portraying grisly results of massed cannon and musketry. He recorded the scenes in an album he named Gardner's Photographic Sketch Book of the Civil War. One particular has become more famous over the past 150 or so years, "Home of a Rebel Sharpshooter." Gardner is said to have moved the body of the soldier for more dramatic effect.
After the war Gardner also took what is considered to be the last photograph of President Abraham Lincoln, just 5 days before his assassination. Gardner would go on to photograph the conspirators who were convicted of killing Lincoln, as well as their execution.
In 1867, Gardner was appointed the official photographer of the Union Pacific Railroad, documenting the building of the railroad in Kansas as well as numerous Native American tribes that he encountered.
Gardner gave up photography to start an insurance company in 1871. He lived in Washington until his death in 1882. Regarding his work he said, “It is designed to speak for itself. As mementos of the fearful struggle through which the country has just passed, it is confidently hoped that it will possess an enduring interest.”
I have deliberately not posted some of pics as even now some are pretty graphic, to photograph the dead and especially an execution leaves a distaste in my mouth, the first pic is Gardner himself, the second Lincoln, the third Lincoln again but fellow Scot Allan Pinkerton to his left, the fourth pic shows the Scaffold for the Lincoln Assassination Conspirators, you can imagine the pics that follow this one
You can google his name you can look through many of the pics if you wish, whereas they might not be as graphic as ones you see online nowadays, they do involve shots of many dead bodies.
Read more about the man here https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/.../Alexander...
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Erin Reed at Erin In The Morning:
On Tuesday, Gov. Janet Mills of Maine signed LD 227, a sanctuary bill that protects transgender and abortion providers and patients from out-of-state prosecution, into law. With this action, Maine becomes the 16th state to explicitly protect transgender and abortion care in state law from prosecution. This follows several bomb threats targeting state legislators after social media attacks from far-right anti-trans influencers such as Riley Gaines and Chaya Raichik of Libs of TikTok. An earlier version of the bill failed in committee after similar attacks in January. Undeterred, Democrats reconvened and added additional protections to the bill before it was passed into law.
The law is extensive. It asserts that gender-affirming care and reproductive health care are "legal rights" in Maine. It states that criminal and civil actions against providers and patients are not enforceable if the provision or access to that care occurred within Maine’s borders, asserting jurisdiction over those matters. It bars cooperation with out-of-state subpoenas and arrest warrants for gender-affirming care and abortion that happen within the state. It even protects doctors who provide gender-affirming care and abortion from certain adverse actions by medical boards, malpractice insurance, and other regulating entities, shielding those providers from attempts to economically harm them through out-of-state legislation designed to dissuade them from providing care.
The bill also explicitly enshrines the World Professional Association of Transgender Health’s Standards of Care, which have been the target of right-wing disinformation campaigns, into state law for the coverage of transgender healthcare.
The bill is said to be necessary due to attempts to prosecute doctors and seek information from patients across state lines. In recent months, attorneys general in other states have attempted to obtain health care data on transgender patients who traveled to obtain care. According to the United States Senate Finance Committee, attorneys general in Tennessee, Indiana, Missouri, and Texas attempted to obtain detailed medical records "to terrorize transgender teens in their states… opening the door to criminalizing women’s private reproductive health care choices." The most blatant of these attempts was from the Attorney General of Texas, who, according to the Senate Finance Committee, "sent demands to at least two non-Texas entities."
[...] Despite these threats, legislators strengthened both the abortion and gender-affirming care provisions and pressed forward, passing the bill into law. Provisions found in the new bill include protecting people who "aid and assist" gender-affirming care and abortion, protections against court orders from other states for care obtained in Maine, and even protections against adverse actions by health insurance and malpractice insurance providers, which have been recent targets of out-of-state legislation aimed at financially discouraging doctors from providing gender-affirming care and abortion care even in states where it is legal.
Maine Gov. Janet Mills (D) signs gender-affirming care and abortion sanctuary state bill LD227 into law despite the best efforts of right-wing anti-trans extremists such as Riley Gaines, Courage Is A Habit, and Libs of TikTok who sought to thwart its passage and signature into law.
#Maine LD227#Maine#Janet Mills#Transgender Safe Refuge#Transgender Sanctuary State#Abortion Sanctuary State#Abortion#Gender Affirming Healthcare#LGBTQ+#Transgender Health#Transgender#WPATH
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"The Assistant and The Star"
Chapter 1: Standard Routine
*11 years later
It was shortly after dawn and the sun was rising. Atop a grand hill stood Asha and another girl. Before them stood easels with canvases where they painted the sunrise.
Asha looked over at the other girl's painting. "Oh, Bazeema. That is an excellent shade of pink. How did you get it?"
Bazeema showed Asha her wooden palette. Using a clean brush, she took a dab of red paint, a dab of white and a touch of yellow before mixing it all in the center. "Oh, I see." Said Asha before she repeated the process. Asha places a few strokes of pink on her canvas before stepping back to admire her work. She thought it was grand. Asha looked around the forest and back to the sunrise before releasing a light sigh. "You were right Bazeema. I do feel better. I really needed this after last night."
The previous night, Bazeema and her mother were working late to finish tending the royal garden when they came across someone trespassing through the moss trees. When asked about their whereabouts, the person simply said they were looking for someone who owed them a favor and tried to push past them. The gardeners kicked out the heckler and would later find Asha hiding under a moss tree. She was hiding from a heckler that was chasing her near the castle. The same heckler that they just kicked out. Bazeema helped Asha get home and invited to take her uphill to paint the horizon before they went to work.
"Hmm. Do you want to leave now? We're a long way from the castle and I don't want to make you late for work." Asked Asha.
"It's still pretty early but we could leave if you want to. I'm finished with my painting anyway."
Asha added her signature onto her canvas before packing up her art supplies. They traveled for 30 minutes before reaching Asha's home. Outside the house, sat Mama Sakina brushing the fur of a baby goat. The goat noticed the two and bounced over to the pair. Excitedly braying as he pawed (hooved?) Asha's legs.
Asha giggled. "Good morning, Valentino. Happy you're awake as well."
"Good morning Asha. Hi Bazeema. How was the sunrise?" Greeted Sakina. "Good morning, mama. It was beautiful. I'm getting better at painting as well." She said as she lowered the canvas to Valentino's eye level. "What do you think buddy?"
Valentino cocked his head and paced side to side in critical thought before giving an approving bah. "Thank you very much." Replied Asha. She raised her canvas and looked back to Sakina. "We're just going to set these to dry and go to the castle." They placed their paintings against the wall of the house.
"You're going into the city now?" Sakina asked, concerned. "Can't you take the day off today? It's the middle of the Summer festival and there's a Wish Ceremony is today. It's going to be crowded in town square. It could be dangerous."
As she said this, Saba Sabino came outside. "Here's some food for thought. Why don't you celebrate your Saba's 100th birthday all afternoon and evening? Take a break from everything happening in the city."
Asha paused at the offer. Two years ago, she was interviewed and accepted to become the King's assistant. A role that allows her to help manage the wishes, prepare magic ingredients, and many other things. Rumor has it that the King's assistant will not only have their wish granted sooner than most, but can get other peoples' wishes granted.
Asha is quite famous in Rosas, but it is a perverted form of fame. Asha had more than her fair share of hecklers and fake friends. It only got worse during the solstice and equinox festivals. Today would be one of the few times that the King will grant wishes on the same night as a Wish Ceremony, and people will do whatever it takes to be sure that the "insurance" will deliver their wish that night.
"I know but this is the most demanding day and I have to help the King. He needs me to help choose the wishes to be granted and test the performance of his new spells." She began stroking her locs. "I know yesterday was… dramatic, but I can find another route and Bazeema can help me get home without anyone noticing."
Sabino sighed, a little sad. "Okay, if you must. But if I may suggest, that soldier fellow you know. The one near the castle. You can ask him to take you home as well."
"Simon? He's a castle guard, not a soldier. And he's on the night shift, I can't ask him to take me home."
"You get off of work near sundown. Simon's shift starts at midnight. He should have time." Bazeema rebutted.
"But he's asleep around that time. It's a long way to and from the castle and it would be rude to interrupt the little rest he gets to-"
"He will not mind." Sakina placed a firm hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Simon is one of your oldest and truest friends. He will not antagonize you for needing his help. He won't ask for anything in return." She smiled.
Asha sighed in defeat. "Okay. I'll ask him." She said before going inside the house. Entering her room and opening her closet, she searched through a set of 10 masquerade masks to wear on her trip. They were a gift from Magnifico to help her travel unrecognized. She picked a golden ibex mask and changed into her assistant's uniform. Asha grabbed her leather bag from a nearby chair and put on a dark hooded cloak over everything.
Walking out to the living room, she heard a gasp from Sabino.
"Oh, stars above! La muerte?! Oh, is it my grand daughter's time already?" He knelt down, trying not to smile. "Oh, please. Have mercy on her. Take me instead."
Asha laughed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not dead yet, Saba."
"You will be if you keep working yourself like a mule." He teased, standing up. "But if you're going into the city, maybe I can take advantage of crowd and play my music for them to hear." -He went to open a cabinet and pulled out a mandolin case- "Maybe, they will pay attention this time." He whispered to himself.
"You know, I could try to get your wish granted tonight." Asha offered. "Maybe find out what it was." Sabino chuckled. "No need to stress over finding it. I wrote it down before I gave it to the King. Now I wait for it and attempt to achieve."
"Oh." Went Asha. "What did you write?"
"It's a secret." He whispered with a smirk.
"Saba!"
Sabino just laughed at her frustration. "Well, what would like for a present?" Asha asked.
"If you find a little trinket in the market that I could add to my collection, that would a great bonus. But all I need is for you to come home in time for cake." He said with a smile.
Asha hugged her Saba goodbye and left the house. She hugged her mama and walked up to Bazeema. "Hey Valentino? Are you coming?" Asha called. Valentino hopped up to follow but Sakina picked up before he could approached. "Hold on there, mister. We can't have you go into that chilly castle without your pajamas, can we?" Sakina sat down on the grass criss crossed and positioned the little goat back on her lap. She pulled tiny pajamas from her pocket and fitted them over his head. "There you go." She chimed as Valentino ran over to Asha and Bazeema. "Watch over her, please. I love you all." She called to them. "We love you too. Goodbye." Asha called back as they made their way through the forest.
A while later and the trio made it to the outskirts of the forest, just outside the city. Asha stood in admiration of the festival decor around the area. Streamers of red and yellow. Banners for the rising and setting sun. Blue, unlit lanterns strung above the street. The streets weren't filled with people yet but enough to dissuade going through town square. They had not noticed a hunter at the edge of the forest looking their way in suspicion. Something about the cloaked figure seemed familiar but they weren't sure why. Then it hit them.
"Hey, are you the veiled assistant?" They called out. "I want to ask you something!" Valentino took notice and headbutted Bazeema's leg to see the hunter approaching. In a mild panic, Bazeema took Asha's hand and they bolted down the outskirts towards the docks. "Hey, where are you going?" The hunter cried after them.
After a short while, they made it to the docks. "Are... Are we... still being followed?" Asha panted, hanging onto her knees. Bazeema looked back and saw no sign of pursuit. "No, we're safe. But we need to find Dahlia and Hal. They can take us down a new route at the docks."
"Okay. Woo... Let me catch my breathe first."
After a good 7 seconds, Asha straightened her back. "Wait, you didn't tell Dahlia about last night, did you?" Bazeema was silent and only interlocked her fingers. "Oh no! Bazeema! She's going to be all over me!"
"But she can ensure you get in and out of the castle!" Bazeema beamed.
They approach the city where two other girls stood by. One with a crutch and anxious look. The other with a basket looking out at the nearby ships on the horizon. The anxious girl looked their way and squealed. 'Oh boy,' thought Asha. "Hi Dahlia. How are y-" Dahlia tackled Asha in a bear hug before she finish speaking. "Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Great Heavens! Please take off your mask!" Was all the girl said. Asha complied with the request and lifted the mask from her face. Dahlia spared no time before taking her face into hands, turning it side to side to check for any bruises. "You're not hurt? They didn't reach you? Oh, I should've been there with you!" Dahlia panicked.
"I'm alright, Dahlia." Asha reassured. "They grabbed my cloak but I got away." The last sentence did anything but reassure Dahlia. "THEY TOUCHED YOU!? Oh ho! No! Do you remember their face? What they wore? Do you have their name?"
Hal came up and tugged at Dahlia's dress with her free hand. "Go easy on the lady, Doc. We still need to take her to the door." Dahlia took a deep breathe and let go of Asha's face. "Sorry. Okay. It should be this way." Dahlia led them past the great bell tower to a large wooden door that she swiftly unlocked with a key hanging on her belt. "This is the delivery route. The cooks use it to quickly bring in new shipments of food and herbs into the royal pantry." She opened the door to a dark hallway. "There are wall windows further down but it's stained glass so people should only see your shadow."
Asha looked inside, worried. "What if I get lost in there?"
"It's a one way path. Wherever it's too dark to see, just feel for the wall and follow it."
The 5 of them jumped as the great bell tower rang out to announce new arrivals coming to Rosas. Hal looked out to the ships about dock. "It's time, Dahlia!" She said. "You'll be fine Asha. See you tonight! And remember, you're the Goat!" She praised with a finger gun. Valentino brayed annoyed. "Oh, right! You too Valentino!" She said, petting his head. Asha placed her mask back over her face and the two entered the hallway, closing the door behind them. Dahlia will lock it once they're inside the castle. The three remaining girls returned to the gate to meet the approaching newcomers.
"Good morning and welcome. Glad you could make it here. My name is Dahlia Akaboshi and I will be your tour guide for today. These are my friends, Bazeema and Hal." She took the basket from Hal's hand. "Would you care for a muffin. Gratuity from my parents, the royal bakers." The guests took a few muffins and looked around. "So, shall we begin? Come this way." Dahlia looked back at the now open gate and the three girls led the new comers into Rosas.
A/N: Tumblr freaked out on me and this got deleted 2 times but things came out better. The story became much more extra than I anticipated but I like how it's coming along. I'm giving my girl a major internal conflict. I'm hoping to draw out my rewrite of "Welcome to Rosas".
@annymation @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @chillwildwave @kstarsarts @rascalentertainments @emillyverse @uva124 @oh-shtars
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