#instead of actually getting one at 16 or 17

[emmafallsinlove]

well you know what i'm gonna do the theory driving test tomorrow after work and maybe i'll pass and if not i'll go on friday anyway because you cannot do 2 tests on the same day

[the-sunshine-dragon]

.

[lilacstro]

Astro Observations pt 2

1.If you have sun conjunct ascendant//sun in 10th house, people might really see who you really are or your real personality maybe visible to people you choose to interact with.

2. People who's sun and mercury match, they more than most of the time, say what they really mean

3. People who have Sag sun/stellium usually have a strong liking for some kind of mainstream media, like kpop? football? bollywood?

4. The sign of your fifth house can influence how you like spending your leisure time. Example:

Capricorn 5th house might like cleaning as a form of relaxing or spending their free time

Leo 5th house might want entertainment or hanging out with a group of friends, social circles

Gemini 5th house might like scrolling the internet or talking about their favourite shows and dramas

Pisces 5th house might like day dreaming or doodling or creative working

Libra 5th house might put make up on just because, or doing a whole self care routine

Taurus 5th house might just lay in bed and sleep? lol maybe cook something or play some instrument if they please.

5. Jupiter is said to expand. People who may have sun conjunct Jupiter may have huge sense of self or awareness of identity, which is really good in a world where people try to tell you who you are. However, this needs to be checked so it does not turn into a huge ego

6. Sagittarius women could really like dancing

7. 8th house stellium could deal with sleep paralysis or insomnia or some kind of mental health related problem at some point in their life for sure

8. 12th house stelliums could really like day dreaming a lot

9. Most Libra people I have met are usually already well liked regardless of anything. and the ones that aren't, really care about being liked by people.

10. Speaking of this, most libra placements, esp suns, may really be gossiped about or do gossips.

11. Sagittarius placements (sun and rising esp) always have something going on with their teeth. Its either crooked, it may have had an injury and even if its perfect, they might be a little insecure about it at least for a brief period in their life

12. Neptune in 7th house could mean the native has kind of like imaginary ideals about their partner. It could also be that they "like the idea of someone more than the person" or straight up like imaginary characters as ideals

13. Sag mercury women usually are very vocal. May advocate for things like unequal rights, feminism, maybe the first one to speak. tbh sag mercuries overall are the types to take part in global challenges and really take time out to think about it seriously.

14. Sun in 8th house is a mysterious placement. Sun in 8th house won't reveal themselves to you. To be fairly honest, growing up their personality goes through a lot of transformation before they finally get to even know themselves and who they are. They could also be very introspective if not self aware

15. while Moon in 8th house natives are usually said that they won't reveal their true emotions, I'd say that's subjective since they are actually "aware" of their feelings on a deep level. This depends on the sign and degree of the moon imo. However, they may instead absolutely illusion you into thinking "you know everything about them" lol. Also, they could eventually get very emotionally intelligent in their lives with time. They may also never fully reveal their past to someone.

16. Moon in 8th house can have two moods. I know this will happen. See this happened. OR I know EXACTLY why this did not happen lol. Very intuitive.

17. Moon in Gemini degrees can indicate being able to verbalize and intellectualize emotions better than most people. While Moon in Aquarius or Capricorn may suggest otherwise.

18. Idk how but most Aquarius people I have seen have either of these two things. Being extremely different than most people (in a good or bad way) in some way or the other, a different thinking than most. OR, being really really good with Internet related stuff, like maybe freelance? Digital Media? Social Media?

19. Venus/Sun/Moon in virgos will get you the small thing you mentioned in a random seemingly unimportant conversation for your birthday gift.

20. A placement that makes me think of "attractive personality" is Venus in harmonious aspects with mercury.

21. Mars in 5th house/1st house are said to be automatically physically active or athletic. While this maybe true, mars or any other planet at a weak degree or Mars in Earth signs may not manifest that way, even though it may seem otherwise.

22. I think mercury in 11th house is an OG placement for over thinkers or the people who are thinking how would it feel to get married while riding the car/train and looking outside, or being constantly in their head the second they woke up.

23. " I am so stupid in love"- Pisces, Cancer placements.

24. Neptune in 3rd/11th house placements could have a social media or chronically online addiction.

25. Sun in 1st house in SR can indicate getting a sense of identity and purpose and moreover finding yourself again

26. Uranus in 12th house in SR can indicate a change/transformation in old belief systems and thoughts

support me on ko-fi :)

Well, I am thinking of making proper dedicated posts now instead of random notes like that. What suggestions do you have? I would loveee to know.

[floral-ashes]

Canada’s First Trans Healthcare Ban

Alberta’s anti-trans bills have dropped. A few observations. 🧵

The first thing I notice, and which is cause for hope, is that the bills do not invoke the notwithstanding clause. They can thus be challenged in Court, and struck down as unconstitutional. 

The healthcare ban is worse than they announced, at least in its present form. They ban all gender-affirming surgeries until 18, as expected. They also ban puberty blockers and hormones for minors. So far, the same as we expected. 

However, the bill is set up so that the ban is total for all minors *unless* the Minister creates an exception for some. This means that even 16-17 year olds whose parents consent cannot receive puberty blockers or hormones. They may plan to allow it, but it’s not in the law. 

There is also no clause that allows youth who are alreadyon puberty blockers or hormones to continue. This is especially concerning because it means they’ll lose access if there’s any delay with planned Ministerial orders—if they even plan to make an order. 

Unsurprisingly, it seems that the law wasn’t drafted by someone who is knowledgeable about trans realities. As a result, transition-related surgeries are defined as those that “treat gender dysphoria or gender incongruence.” 

While the loophole is unlikely to work, a literal reading would allow transition-related surgeries that are motivated by gender euphoria, framed as cosmetic, or understood through a depathologizing lens. The fact slightly amuses me, but again it’s unlikely to actually help. 

The name and pronouns policy is as expected. Trans minors will be forcibly outed to their parents if they request a change of name or pronouns that is related in some way to their gender identity. Parental consent isn’t required for those aged 16-17, but they still get outed. 

There is no exception to the outing requirement, even if it poses a grave risk. All it says is that schoolboards must give counselling or other assistance before outing the kids, in such a case. 

This creates a small loophope—willing schools could delay outing for some time and argue that it still respects the law. However, they still can’t respect under-16 trans youth’s name or pronouns without parental consent, and they must still out them eventually. 

If the law is applied negligently or unreasonably, and a child ends up seriously hurt or dead? Too bad—the law strongly protects people from liability if they believe they’re applying the law and are doing so in good faith. 

For an overview of why these rules are dangerous and unconstitutional, here is my recent Alberta Law Review article on the topic:

How about sexual education? Well, it’s basically dead. The law makes it mandatory for schools to receive Ministerial approval for any material primarily and explicitly related to gender identity, sexual orientation, or human sexuality. 

In addition to the material needing approval, any third-party who delivers the material must be separately approved by the Minister. 

Even if the material is approved, teachers must (a) notify parents at least 30 (!) before teaching it, and (b) ensure alternative instruction for students whose parents didn’t consent. 

This isn’t really an opt-in system. While it’s superficially opt-in, the requirements are so absurdly onerous that nobody will teach materials related to gender identity, sexual orientation, or human sexuality.

It’s as simple as that—sexual education is dead in Alberta. 

The only small comfort is that only regulating materials “primarily and explicitly” about these topics could serve as a good loophole for rebellious teachers. Incidental and indirect discussions of gender identity, sexual orientation, and human sexuality are expressly allowed. 

Lastly, the sports ban. To my surprise, there’s actually no ban on trans women in sports. One less thing on my plate!

Now there is indeed a law about sports, it just doesn’t quite reach the level of a ban. Instead, the bill tells schools and sports bodies to create a policy on fairness and safety in sports, including eligibity requirements and procedures for verifying eligiblity. 

The law also creates a mandatory reporting mechanism for any complaints related to that policy or to (more or less) trans inclusion in sports. This is unsurprisingly hypocritical—conservatives love surveillance states as much as they love to complain about ‘big government.’ 

This bill doesn’t so much ban trans women from sports as provide a cover for any organization that wants to do so. That they should ban trans people is a thinly-veiled subtext, but it’s legally-speaking only a subtext. 

The law also includes broad protection from liability for mostly anyone—including sports participants—who is trying to implement the act ‘in good faith.’ If racists decide to harass a Black woman and claim that she’s not a woman, as we have seen all-too-often in elite sports? If an adult decides to do ‘genital verifications’ on a child? They’re effectively protected from civil liability, so long as they claim it’s in good faith. Scary stuff...

That’s a wrap, but I’m happy to answer any questions about the bills!

[under-the-stars-au]

How are you feeling now, Bon?

Yeah don't worry, they're fine now, when your tummy is full you can't be mad, that's just science fact

________________

Okay ! Lots of stuff to say here ! There were some details I wasn't sure of about the lore of this mixed UT/ISAT universe, but recently I made myself a little memo of everything and I'm more sure of my stuff. So I made it clear in this one : Chara is here ! And they are here to help....maybe.

Siffrin thoughts and Chara's narration are kinda here at the same time...which must be super confusing to live honestly, but you can still see the difference. I will not develop here why Chara is with Siffrin instead of Frisk, but if you want a small explanation, their wishes mixed together

I personally think that there's a lot of ISAT stuff in this AU and not enough UT, so the next one (the one I really wanted to make for a while) will be more about UT, and it will be out...tomorrow ! Yep, I already started it before I decided to make that one first, so you'll have another answer really soon, whoo oh !

I hope you like this one for now though ! See you soon !

(Also did you notice the new brush I used this time ? I love it honestly, it looks super cool, I think I'll keep it)

_________________

DIALOGUES IN CASE YOU CAN'T READ MY HANDWRITING

1 :

Bonnie : Mh.........

2 :

Odile : Bonniface, I get that you are upset, but can you please be faster ? Even I don't walk that slow

Bonnie : I'm as fast as I can 'dile !...

3 :

Isabeau : Hey, Sif ? Sorry to bother ya but, huh... Could you talk to Bonbon ? I think they might need it...

Siffrin : Huh ? Why ? I'm not really the feelings person of the group

4 :

Isabeau : Listen buddy, I... I don't think I'm the good person to tell you about it. Just...talk to them, okay ? They'll tell you...eventually

Siffrin : Huh... Okay ? I'll go do that...

5 :

Mirabelle : Huh ? Why did we stop ? Siffrin ?

6 :

Siffrin : Heya Bonnie

Bonnie : ...Siffrin. What d'you want ?

7 :

Chara (internally): Oof, wow, such a sweet kid. They even "Siffried" you

Siffrin : It seems that you're still angry since you flee earlier, and that it's...kinda my fault ? I'm not sure to really understand, but huh, I'm sorry, for whatever happened. I didn't wanted to upset you.

8 :

Bonnie : Huh uh. Yeah, sure. I forgive you

Siffrin (internally) : It doesn't sound like they do though...

9 :

Chara (internally) : Stars, that kid sure is difficult ! Just continue okay, they are not worth it

Siffrin : ...

10 :

Siffrin : Hey Bonnie ?

Bonnie : Hum ?

Siffrin (internally) : No, no don't say that. They'll ALWAYS be worth it

11 :

Siffrin : What if I tell you that I still have a piece of Toriel's pie in my secret pockets. What d'you say ?

Siffrin (internally) : In every loop, every fun changes, you party will always be more important. If you have to proceed, it will be with them

12 :

Bonnie : ...Well. First, I say that it sounds super gross to keep pie in your pockets just like that

13 :

Bonnie : ...And then I say that I want it

14 :

Siffrin : There you go !

Bonnie : Thanks...

15 :

Siffrin (internally) : ...You know, it's nice to have new interactions with them. They almost became actual persons again, you even remember their names !

16 :

Bonnie : What ? WHAT ?! Why are you laughing ?! You makin' fun of me ?!!

17 :

Siffrin : No no, just thought you look like a bunny when you eat, a "Bonny" hehe. That's cute

Bonnie : GAASP. So you are makin' fun of me !

18 :

Bonnie : But huh, actually, I'm not mad at you somehow, guess it's because of the pie

Siffrin : Oh ? Really ?

Bonnie : Yeah, it's just that good

Siffrin : Huh, good to know

19 :

Bonnie : Yeah yeah, just go back to your place now. And stop being an idiot !

Siffrin (internally) : I guess they are okay now ?

Siffrin : Haha, okay okay

[pruneunfair]

Ranking every manhwa villainess and white lotus I could find.

Keep in mind these are all opinion based.

#22: At the very bottom of the list is Sumin Jeong from Marry my husband

Now, like almost everyone else on this list, Sumin is kept a level that is below the FL Jiwon so she can never best the hero. However unlike the others here, Sumin has not once been shown to be anything other than a dumb and evil bimbo who talks like elmo even before Jiwon regressed, her reasons for wanting everything Jiwon has make no sense and she has no flavor to her, no backstory that makes sense, no real charm since it's lost as soon as possible, all she has going for her is a distinct design.

#21: Charlotte-the villainess maker

Honestly, Charlotte is about as forgettable as the comic she's from. She doesn't do much, just basic bland white lotus tropes over and over. She is portrayed as a sweet heart but she's secretly a jealous vindictive mean girl, she loses everything to the FL because she's too basic for the not-like-other-girls readers, nothing really revolutionary about her, but this could be chalked up to the story shes from canonically being an abysmal mess written by the FL when she was 14, Sorry Charlotte.

#20: Iris Van Conrad-Today the villainess has fun again.

A step up from Sumin when it comes to backstories, still not the greatest but it makes a little more sense. She's more passive aggressive since her actual plots are destoryed in nanoseconds by the plot, she gets dunked on so much I wonder if she's supposed to the Villainess or a discount Meg Griffin. Considering the fact to that Reilynn is pedo coded, Iris is less of the two evils.

#19: Aisha Selir-divorcing my tyrant husband.

Shes okay, But like Charlotte, Aisha isn't very noteworthy, as usual, any attempts she makes to best or outsmart Robelia are met with utter failure, she could be something really great if she were just allowed to make a mark on the plot. Like actually have Alexandros take responsibility instead of blaming her for her existence. Her design before the art shift was pretty enough and I'm pretty sure she's being possessed by a vindictive soul so that might explain why Aisha suddenly became a villain when she's described as being dainty, sweet, and a general damsel and saintess in the story within DMTH.

18: Fonta Magnus:the tyrants only perfumer

Fonta is the type of antagonist that would be adored as a isekaied protagonist. She doesn't really do much though since she gets defeated over and over with the same plan of copying Ariels ideas (how original, no pun intended) I like her though just because her design reminds me of cartoon goth girls, specially Gwen from total drama island.

#17: Benela Verdi- the princesses jewels

I don't care if she seduced Ariannas father or killed her brother, Arianna was out there acting like she wouldn't do the same just to get with a sexy man. Benela may suffer from the same problems every other villainess does but if ranked them based on that then almost all of them would be on the bottom. This image of her drinking her stress away is accurate to how I felt reading this one.

#16: Claudine von Brandt-Cry or better yet beg

I absolutely adore Claudine and she's not really a villain but unfortunately the narrative says she's a so she'll have to count. It's why she's this low since she's just a woman who gets in the way of the main ship

As you can probably guess, her only crimes are being condescending to Layla and valuing superficial values such as wealth and status, crimes that somehow make her worse than Matthias in the narratives eyes. Justice for my girl Claudine ✊️

now we are moving up to the middle tier

#15: Diana-for my derelict favorite

This girl has more protagonist material then Hestia ever will. Sorry but Hestias entire thing is just being a rich girlboss, simping for Cael and damning any woman who broke his heart including Diana, who is the saintess that opposes murder, Wow! Who would have guessed that the saintess woman wouldn't endorse literal murder! Could she have communicated better? Yes, was she always in the right? Hell no. But she's got more character in her pinky toe then everyone else in their entire bodies to I salute to her.

#14: Irene/Aileen Hascator- I didn't mean to seduce the male lead

I have a weird relationship with her. One minute I'm impressed because she actually does manipulation pretty well at first with making the lives of those who won't swear loyalty her unbearable in very smart ways, she'll buy all her friends expensive dresses so she can stand out in a simpler one, she'll defend the black sheep and make her into her friend to keep up her sweetheart facade, unfortunately it's all so she can get with a boy where she goes nuts on anyone who gets near him.

#13: Freya van Furiana- how to get my husband on my side

I really loved this manhwa, almost all of the characters are complex and 3 dimensional with a great commentary on abuse, ED, and family dynamics, with that said I was a little disappointed seeing Freya as another basic white lotus who only wants Izek for herself, it won't take much even a little more character traits would help because Freya isn't just some random girl who became the ogfl, she was the childhood friend of Izek and Ellen, so we should've gotten to see a little more too her then what we got

#12: Mielle Roscente- the villainess turns the hourglass.

Beautiful design, basic but rather solid goals, a charming personality, Mielle has all of that in the bag. She secretly wants Aria and her mother out of her life since they aren't of noble blood (before the terrible Arias a noble plot twist) and she's really entertaining. However I'll never understand how she managed to destroy Aria in the first timeline if she's such an idiot now. The first timeline also takes the blame off of Arias shitty actions with "Mielle tricked her into being evil!" It ruins the charm since Aria, as a villainess should be allowed to suffer the consequences while not wanting to quit.. since you know, she's not meant to be a good person.

#11: Isabella de Mare-sister I am the queen in this life

NOT YOU!

THIS is the Isabella I'm talking about

Absolute genius, she knows that Ceasre is a bastard and not just in the literal sense, she doesn't even love him and just wants that sweet sweet power and wealth. Fooled Ariande for years that she was on her side and as a bonus she can easily say she wanted revenge for Alfonso to the public if they ever found out she was behind it all. But the best part about first timeline Isabella is her villain monolog that women mean nothing to men, putting your life in their hands is a fatal mistake and if you want to make it to the top, you gotta crush the opponents. But alas we never see this version of Isabella after Ariande goes back in time

Higher tier now, the best of the best who managed to make it this far

#10: Rhyse/Lise Sinclair- not your typical reincarnation story

Yeah shes technically being controlled by the author or hell maybe she is the author I have yet to finish this one but for once we get a comic that doesn't immediately pit two women against eachother and actually gives a solid reason for her to be at odds with Edith. When something doesn't go her way, Rhyse doesn't throw a fit and turn on the water works no no no. She stands there, awkwardly, almost like the real Rhyse is wondering why she feels so jealous and angry with Edith for stealing the spotlight. She's incredibly ominous too when that purple mist surrounds her to force the other characters back into place. All while she's making friends with Edith in a possibly geninue friendship.

#9: Isis Frederick- the villainess reverses the hourglass

I'm pretty sure most of us can agree she's the real villain of TVRTHG since she basically started and encouraged the whole operation to begin with from afar, the puppeteer if you will. Killer design, a great fear factor and an evil sister done better. Wish she had more time to shine.

#8: Diane Poitier- I abdicate my title as empress

What already sets her apart from other evil concubines is that she was there before Adelaide so her reasons for being upset that another woman is showing up to marry the Emperor is reasonable, obviously her actions aren't but I still felt bad for her since no one in that palace gave a damn about her, Diane got ruthlessly belittled and ignored for not being useful to their liking or simply being too desperate and when Adelaide tries to not make an enemy out of her, Diane is looking for anyone to direct her anger on but the redemption arc as short as it is, makes up for it.

#7: Leila- villains are destined to die

My favorite ogfl turned villain. Leila is pure evil no questions asked. She steals the body of Yvonne which played a part in taking the latters reputation to a degree in the fandom and starts brainwashing everyone around her. That's what makes her so terrifying, one minute you could be at your highest and you feel like you rule the world, and next minute it all comes crashing down when the face of your long lost sibling arrives with fake tears in her eyes, ready to destroy everything you hold dear.

#6: Soleia Elard- seducing the villains father

I can't believe I'm saying this but a classic black magic witch is a unique villain in the manhwa world. During her introduction she's already causing mayhem by trying to kill Yerenica with black magic, and at first you'd think she's another "I want my hubbies affection!" Chick but no, she just wants to marry Erudian to have his child and use said child to avenge her family and destroy everything, characters are all frightened by her because she actually gets shit done instead of failing every minute of the day, and even after all that, she's allowed the privilege of life by getting a redemption arc.

#5: Cosette Weinberg- I was the real one.

She deserved so much better!! 😭 Cosette, my baby, you were set up to be such an amazing villain with high intelligence and well thought out plans, why did they have to give you the good old plot induced lobotomy! Girly wasn't just smart but there were actually times I could get behind Cosette. When Keira gave a maid 100 lashes after she insulted and wished death on Keira, it was Cosette who took advantage of an actual truth with only a little bit of exaggeration, they were both evil but only one of them was rightfully called out for it. Honestly just read the novel, the manhwa did it dirty.

#4: Marianne Edenverre- into the light again.

Nah someone get this baby to a church and give her the aggressive baptism 10 times over, I'll always be wondering how the hell did that 10 year old get her hands on a demon in the first place, the fact that the family never found her hiding behind a door or closet staring into their soul like a paralysis demon is surprising cause I imagine she would do that and be like "it's just me sillies, I would never mean to scare you 😛" she's a well written villainess who I wish would have a little bit more screentime but her powers and what she can do honestly confuses me (like that whole body-swap thing)

Final 3 everybody, you ready for this?

#🥉: the 3rd place medal goes to Dodolea Castor from My in laws are obsessed with me

Another real villainess, putting everyone off guard with her initial gacha life brat persona only to be hit in the face with disturbing levels of cruelty that can only match a psychopath, she looks straight out of an uncanny mr incredible meme with that light skin stare shes got. Straight up laughs at Therdeos trauma while being well aware that she tried to SA him and how it affected the poor guy and later proceeds to attempt to kill and later kidnaps his wife. There's no remorse, no regrets, just the souls of innocents behind those huge eyes.

#🥈 : the second place medal goes to Verta Alberhart from depths of malice.

She isn't even the antagonist, no that's the protagonist! And honestly, the only white lotus in the main lead spot I've ever read so far. And while she has a messed up backstory that explains why she's so bitter, she still full on embraces it. Vertas way of being granted a second chance isn't even because of some goddess or divine power, she just snatches the body of a suicidal noblewoman and wreaks havoc on all of the disgusting noblemen in her path. She cries on the court trial of her fiances murder while secretly laughing knowing she set the whole thing up and slowly ruins the life of anyone who fucked around and found out.

At long last, we reached #🏅, and the crown goes to none other than...

Rashta Ishka from the remarried empress!

Hear me out now, this isn't just me being biased. Rashta earns first place because even though she is rendered an idiot who's only use is being worse so everyone else can look good, she still managed to do something unfathomable. She earned the respect of a fandom that initially hated her with all the fiber of their being and now she has a growing fanbase of real people, not fictional characters, actual fans. People are literally turning on one of the most popular manhwas that started it all for its treatment of Rashta (because who would guess that people are uncomfortable with the fact that a former slave is the ultimate evil and not the guy who tortures people just for shit talking the FL) and even though there is still a big part of the fandom who despises her, she still lives in everyone's head rent free. The trashta meme is more well known than Navier as a character and her character arc will always be superior and far more interesting than everything else in the story, after all remarried empress did start to decline after her death.

Jesus christ this took so long, I had to do so much rereading and fact checking but it was worth it.

[samkerrworshipper]

exhausted | barca femeni/alexia putellas x reader

reader has insomnia… but doesn’t tell her teammates alexia begins to figure it out though

was gonna make yall wait till tomorrow butttt i rlly can’t fucked lol

Sleep is something that has never come easy to you.

No matter how hard you try, no matter how much melatonin or herbal teas or meditation you tried, none of it worked.

You, quite simply, could not sleep.

It was fine when you were just a student, when you could dip out of your morning classes or sneak in a nap here and there between classes, when you didn’t have to make it through full days of work.

It was fine when you were playing for London City, when nobody cared about what you were doing, only if you could stop other players from getting past.

It had all changed though when the Barca offer had come in though.

It was known to every single footballer in the women's league that Barca had major injury problems, specifically in their backline, injuries that wouldn’t be resolved until long after the season was over.

You’d never thought though that some absences in Barcelona’s star squad would crate an opportunity for you, but for whatever reason, the Barca selectors had seen something in you, and even though it was mid season, had been desperate to sign you, it was a big move to go from England to Spain, but one you were more than happy to make for the sake of your career.

You’d never thought that the move from home would be so much more detrimental to your sleep schedule, but slowly you’d found yourself becoming more exhausted as you struggled to keep up with your new life.

There were a lot of things that were different about Spain, or more specifically the Barcelona Women’s team. When you were playing in London, training every couple of days and playing once a week, you could afford to miss some hours of sleep during the night, especially considering that nobody in London was concerned about making school a priority over there. You could take some naps during the day, laze around as much as you wanted and go to school whenever you could be bothered.

Barca was different, and not in a good way.

It was good for your football, internationally and just in general. Before Barca, you’d been more of a bench player then a starter for the England under 17s, but your game had lifted and you’d been a consistent starter in every tournament and friendly since.

You were exhausted, more than you’d ever been in your entire life, and you were sure it was starting to show.

It was hard enough being 16, in a foreign country, getting hardly any hours of sleep, training at least three hours a day as well as gym sessions and playing twice a week. Trying to be a full time student as well, it was completely unrealistic and it was starting to show.

“Nena, do you want to slow down on the energy drinks? Someone so itty bitty and young like you shouldn’t be consuming any caffeine, let alone two red bulls before noon, we’re lucky you aren’t pinging off the walls yet.”

Mapi’s hands are on your cheeks, pinching and squeezing them as if you are a baby. Instead of paying her any kind of attention you keep your eyes fixed on your laptop screen and lips pressed to the can of red bull that you’ve been tirelessly sipping at for the past couple of minutes.

Integrating into the team had been hard, but you’d actually become far closer with the crew of injured girls, mapi specifically, as well as her girlfriend Ingrid. Frido had also been one of the first people to welcome you, accompanied by two familiar English faces, Keira and Lucy.

Mapi particularly, had taken you under her wing, or had sort of adopted you in an older sister type fashion. It was sort of annoying, the older Spaniard was constantly talking, to the point where you’d learn to pretty much drown out everything that left her lips.

“If you keep touching my face then it won’t just be your knee that’ll be injured, your hands will be broken as well.”

Mapi frowns at you, her pinching fingers moving to brush loose hair from your face and rub at your temples, trying to rub away the frown lines deeply ingrained on your forehead.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning did we, nena? You know you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that, it’s not good for your little baby face.”

You shake your head in an attempt to get Mapi’s hands off of your face, it partially works, but not fully.

“María I am serious, you’ve got three seconds before I tear this can in half and use it to cut off your fingers, don’t you have rehab to do or something more entertaining than bothering me?”

Mapi’s hands fly up in surrender, something you are infinitely grateful for.

“Fine, you want to be grumpy then you can be grumpy by yourself, don’t come looking for me later when you’re bored of school and looking for some fun.”

You don’t bat an eyelid as Mapi retreats from your table.

You take another sip of your drink, praying that it’ll somehow make it easier for you to read the words on your laptop screen, even though it does absolutely nothing.

You’ve read the same page, over and over again and yet it’s done absolutely nothing to make you understand what it is you are supposed to be learning. It’s a mess of consonants and verbs, jumbled up words that just can’t seem to resonate in your brain.

Whilst Mapi has left, unbeknownst to you, you aren’t completely alone in the recovery room.

Alexia has been sitting on one of the massage tables, doing her exercises for the last hour, watching as you’ve gradually been getting far more frustrated with your work.

Alexia’s relationship with you so far has been… rocky.

The captain had made it clear from day one that whilst the club needed you, that your studies were going to be a priority alongside football. If you had known that you’d be going from doing as much school as you liked, to hours of online school everyday, you probably would have reconsidered your move to Spain, but you were here now and struggling more than you cared to admit.

Alexia knew something was up, beyond your clear hatred for school, she just wasn’t sure what yet but she was determined to find out why.

“Everything alright pequena?”

You practically jump at the sound of Alexia’s voice, hand clutching at your heart as you suddenly become aware of a presence in the room that you were unaware existed.

“Perfectly fine.”

You do well to recover from the shock, your eyes darting straight back to your screen almost as quickly as they had left it.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes.”

Alexia notices that your hands are shaking slightly, most likely due to the insane amounts of taurine that your body is processing.

“There’s a lot of writing on one page.”

You take another sip, finishing off the can and sliding it across the table.

“Mapi’s right, it’s not good for pequena’s like you to be drinking stuff like that, it’s bad for your brain cells, and don’t get me started on what it does to your body.”

Alexia moves to take a seat beside you at the table, her concern for you growing even more when she took a look at your face and realised how exhausted you looked.

“I don’t need the lecture, I’m poisoning my body, I’m aware of it, now can I please have slime peace so I can finish this off before training starts?”

Alexia isn’t anywhere near satisfied with your answer, she wants you to argue with her, not admit your wrongdoing like it’s nothing.

“Yes, you are, you aren’t an adult, you don’t need energy drinks, you will do perfectly fine without them.”

Your eyes leave the screen to look at Alexia for a second, a little exhale huffing out between your lips.

“Okay, whatever.”

Alexia can’t get past just how tired you look, so tired that you’re seemingly agreeing with her just to avoid conflict.

“Pequena, how about you take a break for a couple of minutes, go get some fresh air, I’m sure you can finish this up later.”

Alexia’s never let you finish school early, you don’t understand why she’s deciding to today.

“I need to get it done.”

Your body is so tense, Alexia’s scared that you’re going to pull a muscle just from how tight your body looks.

“I’m sure it can wait till later, you’ve been sitting here for two hours now, you need a break.”

Your hands are still shaking, and you’re as hunched over as possible without being asleep on top of your laptop.

“Alexia, I’m fine, I’ve just got to finish this and then I’ll be done.”

Alexia’s hand reaches up to meet your shaking one, somehow hoping that it’ll stop the frantic tremors.

“You’re taking a break, just go and spend some time in the team room, or go for a walk, just take fifteen minutes and I’ll next you when you need to be back. Go, now, I’m not asking.”

You slam your laptop closed with more aggression then Alexia’s seen from you all morning, your body dragging itself out of the room without any regards for your captain whatsoever.

Alexia begins to get worried when twenty minutes later, after multiple text messages, you are yet to return.

She knows you’re stressed, that school isn’t what you want to be focusing all of your energy on. But Alexia knows from personal experience how easy it is for somebody of your age with your kind of talent to disregard things like education, something that she believes is so crucial to any adult's life. You need options, Alexia is trying to give you them, even if you seem to hate them with every single fibre in your body.

Alexia decides to go looking for you once twenty five minutes have passed and you are nowhere in sight and have ignored every single one of her messages.

It doesn’t take her long to find you, although she does almost miss you.

Alexia peeks her head into the locker room, simply to ask if anyone has seen you, the room is silent and empty though.

She almost leaves, but just as she’s about to close the door, she spots your body, tucked up inside of your locker, your head tucked into your knees.

You look frightfully unrestful, you don’t look like most people look when they’re sleeping, most people look peaceful, you look bothered, like your body is fighting against the sleep that you so clearly need.

Alexia walks over to you, now more than ever she’s certain you’re sick, that you’ve caught some kind of cold that’s causing this exhaustion and the short tempered mood you’ve been in.

She brings the back of her palm up to your forehead, an action that has your eyes snapping opening immediately.

Alexia’s sort of surprised when she realises you’ve got no fever whatsoever, although she’s well aware that not all sicknesses result in fever, something about it is putting her off.

“Hola pequenita.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise where you are and what’s happening, but as soon as you do you are shaking Alexia’s hand from your face and pushing yourself out of your cube.

“Sorry, time completely slipped past me, I’ll head back now.”

Alexia’s hand grabs your forehand before you have the opportunity to slip past her, tugging you backwards until you’re standing directly in front of your captain, forced to look at her.

“Are you sick?”

Alexia isn’t sure what’s wrong, but it’s clear something is up and sickness is the clearest option. She knows that you are no stranger to energy drinks, she spends most of her time heckling at you to try and put down whatever drink you’ve got in your hands. She’s never seen you down two in such a short amount of time though and sickness would be a good explanation.

“No, I’m fine.”

Alexia can’t find any deceit in your words or mannerisms, it appears that you are being completely honest with her, something that makes Alexia even more confused. None of the tell-tale signs are there, you are telling the truth.

“I know you aren’t a stranger to a midday nap, but it’s unlike you to be so tired.”

Alexia’s arm moves from your forearm up to your face, gently tracing the deep purple bags that are sitting below your eyes. Her thumb is soft, it feels like she’s mending all of the fatigue that lies there, but as soon as her thumb moves it all comes back.

“I’m fine Capí, just stayed up a little bit later last night.”

Alexia can tell that’s a lie, a cover up from whatever it is that you’re hiding from her.

“Well see to it that you get into bed earlier tonight. The team is out on the pitch, I told Jona that you’d join them once finished up with your work that you’d head out but I think you need some fresh air. Better get moving.”

Alexia’s voice is ridged and your body reacts to it, reaching into your locker with more speed then she’s seen you work with all day, you grab your cleats and before Alexia has the chance to speak anymore you are marching out of the rooms and out towards the pitch.

It’s perplexing to Alexia, she hates being lied to, especially when it’s clear something is wrong. She waits in the locker room for a few minutes, trying to piece together the mystery yet she comes up with nothing.

Eventually she makes the decision to go out and watch the training, pitchside, maybe you’ll have perked up now that you’re out doing something you enjoy.

The first thing Alexia notices is how frantically you are playing, it’s unlike you to be sloppy and yet as she watches you it’s all she can observe.

You are sloppy, messy and uncalculated, something that you are normally the opposite of.

You are a technical player, something that has helped you settle into the Barcelona squad with ease, you adjusted to the Spanish way of playing without much fuss.

What Alexia is watching though, you look like a completely different player. You’re practically passing the ball directly to Salma, goal after goal being put through your legs and around your body. It’s embarrassing, and she’s certain other people are picking up on your abnormal behaviour, multiple people, specifically Ingrid coming to check on you and make sure everything is fine.

You shake all of them off, even though it’s clear that something is up and whatever that something is, it’s big and it’s affecting your game and mood majorly.

Alexia’s not surprised when Jona drags you from the field, already yelling at you and sending orders your way, what she is surprised by is the way that you don’t even flinch as he throws never ending criticism your way.

You just stare at him, neither nodding or trying to reply to him, Alexia’s not even sure if you’re hearing him, if you’re present enough to be listening to the words that are leaving his mouth. For a second she considers the possibility that you’re violently hungover or acting under the influence of some kind of substance, it would explain the drowsiness and weird behaviour.

The idea makes Alexia instantly filled with anger, you are 16 and she will take you to the grave if you’ve been touching any kinds of substances. She’s mad enough as it is over the energy drinks, and she’s going to express that when the two of you are in private later on, but the chance that you’ve consumed something illegal for someone of your age, it sends shivers down her spine.

Jona has you back out on the field before you can even begin to respond to his critiques, back into defence where you are brutally humbled time and time again by the likes of Aitana, Salma and Caro.

Alexia cringes every single time, she knows that you are struggling, what she’s completely unprepared for is for you to fully collapse on the field.

Caro volleys another ball over your head and for a second Alexia doesn’t even notice you crumpled up on the ground of the pitch, she’s too busy watching the sight of Caro’s ball perfectly managing to slot in behind Cata. It’s a truly beautiful goal, and truly there isn’t much you could have done about it.

She only notices you when Cata doesn’t turn around to grab the ball, instead, she rushes forwards, leaving the ball long forgotten beside the bottom right post. She’s rushing forwards, down to her knees, directly beside your crumpled up body.

Alexia jumps up from her spot immediately, running faster than she should considering the current state of her knee, it doesn’t matter to her though, seeing your tiny little body all clumped up against the grass terrifies her.

Cata’s smart, and apparently fast acting because before Alexia is sitting down next to you, Cata’s already got her shirt off, drenched it with her drink bottle and has it folded up over your forehead. The cold water seems to bring you back a little bit, your head jerking upwards in reaction to the sudden change of temperature across your skin.

Just as Alexia’s crouching down next to you, the medics are pushing everyone out of the way, kneeling down next to you and doing the same as Cata had done, placing wet towels across your skin. They’re treating it like you’ve got heat stroke and whilst Alexia is aware it’s a warmer day, she knows that whatever is wrong with you, it most definitely isn’t heat stroke.

One of the medics squirts some water onto your face, something that Alexia doesn’t like the look of, but it seems to bring you back awake, your eyes bursting open and blinking furiously as you take in your surroundings.

Alexia can see you panicking immediately, your eyes flashing to the multiple faces that are crowding your vision.

“Everyone take a step back, give her some space.”

The medics and your teammates take a step back, leaving Alexia to skoot herself closer to you. Her hand comes to rest on your face, gently brushing the water residue off.

“Hola nena, stay calm for me, you had a little fall, we’re going to get you inside now, do you think you can get up for me?”

You nod at Alexia, you can’t remember what happened but you don’t want to be on the floor any longer than you have to be.

Alexia helps you up and off the pitch, the medics leading the two of you inside.

Alexia immediately gets you situated on a table, the medics immediately getting their hands all over you.

“Test her heart for me please, and her caffeine and sugar levels. I’ll be right back nena, I’m just going to grab something from my locker, text me if you need anything.”

Alexia is inexplicably angry and she knows that if she spends any more time in a room with you she’s going to yell, or say something that she’s going to regret. If it wasn’t for all the doctors, she probably wouldn’t care but she doesn’t need to air out private situations in front of people who have no business in your private life.

So she stomps her way to the locker room, set on trying to detangle the mess of emotions that has developed deep in her gut ever since this morning.

It’s been longer than this morning, Alexia’s noticed oddities in your behaviour, ever since you’d arrived. The energy drinks, the constant eye bags, power naps whenever you could fit them in. You live by yourself, something that Alexia deeply disapproves of and after today she doesn’t think it should continue on like this. You’d requested your own apartment for two reasons, privacy and because you didn’t want to disturb the private life of your teammates.

Alexia wanted to punch a wall, or throw something. That was all that was running across her mind as she paced back and forth in the locker rooms.

All Alexia could think about was your body, crumpled up on the pitch and she had no idea why and no idea how to help you.

You were sitting in the medical room, by yourself, beside the many doctors and physios who were poking and attaching you to different things.

You were exhausted, you were finding it hard to keep your eyes open. You’d felt the same way all day, hitting the pitch had been too much, too hard, too much energy for your exhausted body.

You wished that you’d feel the same every night when you tried to go to sleep every night, but alas, it felt like as soon as you got into bed, or as soon as you tried to close your eyes sleep just avoided you.

Alexia was probably two laps of the locker room away from throwing her phone at a wall when Mapi walked in, weirded out by the sight of her best friend grinding her feet into the floor as she walked back and forth in the locker rooms.

“Ale?”

Alexia’s pacing doesn’t stop, but she does take a second to look up at María and for some reason the concernedly smiley face of her best friend seems to help the anger bubbling up inside her simmer down slightly.

“Alexia, what’s wrong?”

Alexia’s hands are fidgeting wildly in front of her, her fingers clicking and toying with each other.

“Somethings wrong with Nena, she’s exhausted and frantic and she looks like she hasn’t slept and she’s downing all those energy drinks and maybe they’re getting to her heart? Maybe that’s why she collapsed or maybe she’s sick but somethings wrong and I don’t know what and she collapsed right in front of my eyes.”

Normally, out of the two, Mapi is the one who confides in Alexia the most. Alexia isn’t an openly emotional person and when she is it’s with Olga, because for some reason that woman can get everything and anything out of her. Here though, it’s clear Alexia needs someone to de stress with and Mapi is happy to take up that role.

“It’s just her Alexia, she’s always tired and drinking energy drinks, it’s how the kids these days do it.”

Mapi’s words are supposed to soothe Alexia, honestly they do the complete opposite.

“But she shouldn’t, she’s an athlete, she shouldn’t need them. Mapi, I am telling you, something is seriously wrong, I can feel it. I know she’s always tired, but she looks like she hasn’s slept in weeks and I don’t know why.”

Mapi, for the sake of trying to calm Alexia down, decides that instead of trying to invalidate her worries, it’s best to just try and reason with Ale.

“Ale, how about we go see her, if somethings wrong I’m sure she’d tell us.”

Alexia nods at Mapi, taking the extended arm that her friend gives her and allowing the Zaragozan to lead her back to the physio room she’d previously been in.

When she returns, she’s relieved to see that you look a lot better than how you had on the pitch. There are still grass stains across your face, but you’re less pale than you were before and you’re sipping on a gatorade which somehow makes Alexia feel less guilty about the whole situation.

“Hola pequena.”

Your eyes manage to meet Alexia’s, something that kind of shocks her, considering just how weighed down your eyes seem to be by the deep purple bags underneath your eyes.

“Bon dia.”

Alexia would not call this a good morning, she couldn’t even call it an okay one.

“What’s wrong?”

Alexia’s focus is on the physios, not you, she’s saving you for later.

“Luckily, not a lot. I checked her heart and I couldn’t find any abnormalities, it’s clear that she’s tired, she’s told me she woke up a little bit earlier than normal this morning which paired with the warmer weather and some minor dehydration is probably the main cause. She’ll take today off, rest up, but I can’t find anything that would indicate any serious underlying problems so there isn’t any reason why I would say she couldn’t be back on the pitch tomorrow.”

It’s a positive sign, but not what Alexia wants to hear, she wants something to be wrong, so that she can get to the bottom of whatever is happening to you.

“Good, thank you, do you think you could give us the room for a couple of minutes, por favor?”

The physio smiles at Alexia, giving her a nod before leaving the room discreetly.

As soon as Alexia is certain he is no longer within hearing distance, she pivots on her heel, so she’s facing you directly.

“What are you hiding?”

It’s so ominous, even Mapi thinks it’s a little bit far-fetched, as a 16 year old, Mapi was probably hiding more than she was sharing, it’s not really a fair question.

“What am I hiding?”

It sounds like you're even struggling to get words out, your voice is just so tired, like it’s taking up so much energy for you to speak a few simple words.

“Somethings wrong, you’ve been drinking all these energy drinks, which are not only far too caffeinated but also extremely bad for you and you look like you haven’t slept properly in weeks.”

You want to tell Alexia that she’s right, you aren’t sleeping properly, you haven’t been your whole life, but she wouldn’t be the first person who tried to help you and has failed miserably in the process, it’s quite simple, sleep and you just simply do not work.

“Anyone from England would tell you that I just drink energy drinks, it’s not that deep Alexia.”

Mapi is teetering on the edge of having to hold Alexia back from causing you bodily harm.

“Deep? Collapsing on a pitch is not deep? It seems pretty deep to me amor, you can hardly talk, you could hardly read this morning, it’s clear something is wrong and I want to know what.”

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that something isn’t wrong, this is just you, or the new version of you in Spain. Your insomnia had always affected you, moving to Spain had seemed to make it worse but you’d always lived like this, ever since you could remember, sleep was just something that you could never have consistently.

“Nothings wrong, I am fine, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Alexia’s jaw sets and for a second Mapi does truly worry for you.

“I want you to not lie to my face.”

You visibly flinch at those words, you don’t want nor mean to lie to Alexia, but you figure you are saving yourself from a merry go round of painful conversations.

“I’m not lying.”

Alexia knows you are, she’s not stupid.

“Right, well you’ve got the day off, you’ll be coming home with me and staying with Olga and I until you look less like you are on the brink of a coma. María will go get your things.”

Mapi nods quickly at Alexia, walking out of the room as quickly as she can manage, leaving just you and Alexia.

Even though Alexia is mad, she begrudgingly helps you up from the bed, draping your arm over her shoulder to give you somebody to lean on as she walks the two of you out to her car. She’s just gotten you seated in the passenger seat and closed your door when Mapi pops up with your things. Before Alexia can hop into the car and get going, Mapi stops her.

“Be easy on her, si? She’s going through something and I know you want to know, I know you want to help her but whatever is wrong, she’s not talking about it for a reason. Maybe she doesn’t need you questioning her, just take a look, a proper look at her and see if you can get a better idea. For me?”

Alexia knows that Mapi won’t let go of her shirt without some kind of acknowledgement that she’s going to agree to her.

“Okay, I’ll go easy on her.”

It’s a half truth, Mapi seems to accept it though, letting go of Alexia’s shirt so that the Catalan can take her seat in her car and begin to drive the two of you home.

The car ride home is eerily silent, Alexia keeps her eyes focused on the road, her knuckles whitening from the grip she has on the steering wheel and her jaw so set that you begin to worry that her teeth must hurt from the constant clenching.

When the two of you pull up to Alexia’s house you’re feeling a lot better, your head is clearer and you don’t feel as broken as you had earlier.

You clamber out of the car, walking your way slowly to Alexia’s front door. Alexia bothers around with the keys, twisting them in the hole before opening up the door for the two of you.

“Ale? You’re home early.”

Olga’s voice filters in from the kitchen, the two of you making your way through until you spot her.

“Nena, is that you? I didn’t know we were going to have company, if I had I would have cleaned up a little bit for you.”

You shake your head at Olga, giving her a small smile that you’ve reserved just for Alexia’s partner.

“Go sit down on the couch, get your feet up.”

Alexia’s voice is stern, it immediately makes Olga frown at her.

Alexia allows her girlfriend to drag her from the kitchen and into their pantry.

“What’s with the mood?”

Olga’s happy space is her and Ale’s house, it’s supposed to be the one place that the both of them can get away from football and stress.

“Nena is hiding something, she collapsed at training and we don’t really know why but she does and she won’t tell us.”

Olga nods her head, the somehow younger but wiser woman putting on her thinking hat and trying to rationalise what Alexia is telling her.

“Don’t you think it would be smarter to try and be nice to her? I know that she’s fucked up, but it’s clear she just needs some love right now, maybe you should be giving it to her.”

Alexia thinks that Olga doesn’t understand the whole situation, she doesn’t see you everyday, doesn’t see how ragged you are and how deep this issue stems, but she also can’t not listen to her, the woman somehow tends to always be right and she can’t see why that would change now.

“Okay, okay.”

Olga smiles at her, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Alexia’s jaw before pushing her out of the pantry and back into the kitchen.

Alexia is unsurprised to find you dead asleep on her couch, your head lulled against one of her couch pillows. She’s glad, and decides to pocket the inevitable conversation she is going to have to have with you, instead opting to help her girlfriend make lunch.

You sleep for a total of 40 minutes, something that Alexia is less glad about. As soon as she notices you’re awake she’s forcing a bottle of water into your hands and two aspirins. You take them before she shoves them down your throat, taking multiple gulps of the water so Alexia didn’t have another reason to be mad with you.

To be fair, she looked a lot less mad than she had earlier, you wouldn’t even really describe how she looked as mad, more concerned.

Alexia sat down in front of you on the couch, taking a deep breath before she started speaking.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, I understand that you are going through a lot, I just need you to know that I’m here for you, anything you need nena I am here to support you and try and help you however I think best.”

Alexia’s words cut deep for you, it’s a struggle for you not to break out in tears, as much as you really want to.

“I know Ale.”

She nods at you, holding back her own tears, there’s some kind of understanding between the two of you, that you aren’t going to cry or speak, just acknowledge each other for now.

“Olga’s made up the spare room for you, you’ll stay here until you’re in a better place. You’re welcome here and you’ll be no bother for the next couple of weeks.”

You nod your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from arguing back to her.

The rest of the afternoon is fairly similar, you are fed by Olga and then spend the majority of the rest of the day lounging on the couch, occasionally falling asleep, but as Alexia notices, never for longer than 40 minutes. It’s like your body refuses to properly rest.

When dinner comes around you look just as exhausted as you had this morning, you just look a little bit less dead.

After dinner, you head off to bed, alexia’s glad, she’s hoping that you’ll have a nice long proper sleep and that all of this will be solved.

She’s wrong.

Instead of hopping into bed, you pull out your laptop, knowing that if you stand a chance at getting even two hours of sleep it’s not happening any time soon.

You work at your school work, completing the things you hadn’t finished earlier. When 12 o’clock rolls around, you force yourself away from your laptop and underneath the covers of alexia’s extremely comfortable spare bed.

You stare at the roof, every now and again you’ll twitch and for some reason it’ll hurt your brain. You play your favourite song over and over again in your head, praying that it’ll somehow lull you to sleep, it neves does. You stare at the ceiling and try to focus on the sound of the fan. You stare at the ceiling and wonder if the swirl pattern in it is mobing. You think about your favourite film and how the characters used to provide you so much peace. When you remember how much they meant to you, you let a few stray tears fall.

You stare at the ceiling.

Every once and a while, you’ll roll over and press your face into the pillows and pull the covers over your head and hope that if you hide somehow you’ll fall asleep.

Eventually, you’ll fall asleep.

Sometimes it takes hours, all for you to wake up half an hour later feeling as unsatisfied as ever.

It’s how you live, it’s the same routine every night, it’s your normal.

When 4am rolls around and you’ve managed to get a measly twenty minutes or so of sleep, you climb out of the sheets, annoyed that your glass of water is empty. Your eyes are dry and itchy with the feeling of needing to cry, you push that feeling deep into your gut, ignoring the desperate need to ignore your feelings in favour of keeping a strong face.

You try to be as quiet as possible, filling up your glass and taking a seat on Alexia’s couch, looking out of the window of her lounge room at the Barcelona skyline that lights up along her back fence.

“Nena is that you?”

You nearly jump out of your skin.

Alexia is standing in the kitchen, leaning up against the island, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and staring at you inquisitively.

“What are you doing awake?”

The words trigger something in you, it’s probably the half dazed state you’re in, the complete exhaustion and annoyance you’re experiencing at your inability to sleep, but all of a sudden, tears are dripping your face and you don’t know why or how.

Alexia freezes for a second, she’d expected something obviously, but crying was not one of those things.

She’s never seen you cry, she’s never had to deal with a teenager who is breaking down right in front of her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, all she knows is that you are crying a lot and she is just standing and watching.

The problem solver in Alexia tells her that she has to do something, so she paces her way over to the couch, sitting down beside you and tentatively wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She doesn’t know whether or not it’s the right way to go, but it seems to pay off when you immediately relax into her, your head craning into the pocket of her neck and shoulder. Fresh, warm tears drip down onto Alexia’s skin.

Alexia is tense, her back as straight as a board. She doesn’t normally have to deal with this kind of thing, she doesn’t have to try and sympathise with feelings. She’s not an emotional person herself, she cries once a year normally and that’s on the anniversary of her fathers death.

“Nena, it’s okay, I’m here.”

Alexia’s words are calculated, strategic, like she’s reading them off of google or something. Truly, she doesn’t intend for them to come off that way, but it’s kind of just how they do.

Alexia waits for the tears to stop coming, she figures it has to happen, you can’t just cry forever.

The two of you sit like that, crisscrossed on the couch until you manage to compose yourself, until you’ve cried out all the annoyance and grievances over your current predicament.

In the past, your insomnia would stop you from sleeping for days, but eventually the exhaustion would catch up with you and you would get a good night or a few of sleep, but it had been weeks now of you living in Barcelona and sleep had been avoiding you the whole time.

“Nena, what’s wrong?”

Right now, it feels like everything is wrong, it feels like your whole world is upside and you want it to be normal, you want to just be able to close your eyes and get some fucking sleep.

“I can’t sleep.”

Alexia’s brow furrows.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have had so many energy drinks, no?”

It’s the kind of reply you should have expected.

“No Alexia, I can’t sleep, I have insomnia.”

Alexia struggles with the translation in her head, in-som-ni-a?

“Sorry, what?”

You take a deep shaky breath, pulling your head away from Alexia’s chest so that you can rub the tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Insomnia, I can’t sleep, medically. I have a condition that stops me from being able to sleep regularly.”

Alexia’s head all of a sudden starts working, she’s a little bit behind, it’s 4am after all and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

“You can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, Alexia wants to tell you that you’re being silly, but when she sees the pure heart break and exhaustion in your eyes she knows that you can’t be lying. You look so young, tear tracks all over your face and body caved in on itself.

“I can’t sleep.”

It makes more sense to alexia now, all the energy drinks, the exhaustion, the power naps.

“Have you talked to the team doctors about it, I’m sure they could give you medication or something that could make it better, this can’t go on forever, nena.”

You shake your head at Alexia, your exhaustion turning to fear.

“No and you have to promise you won’t either. I’ve been through it, the sleep tests, all of it. I won’t take drugs, you can't make me and I refuse to.”

It’s like you go from being a mellowed out version of yourself to an attack dog.

“Nena, you need help, you can’t keep playing when you can hardly keep yourself standing.”

You shake your head, so fast that Alexia worries you might pass out from the sudden and frequent movements.

“I’m not taking drugs, you can’t make me, I won’t do it.”

Alexia doesn’t know where this sudden defensiveness has come from, but she knows two things. She needs to make sure that you understand that she can be there for whatever you are going through whilst also trying to figure out what is your random refusal to not take medication.

“Wouldn’t it help some?”

It’s hard to explain your complete hatred for any kinds of drugs. You’d grown up in a household where your mom might as well have been a druggie with how little she was invested in your life and where your dad was a legitimate druggie.

You struggled to take paracetamol, let alone any kind of prescribed drug.

You were scared shitless that somehow, you would turn out like your father and that was the last thing you could ever want.

You didn’t come from a loving home, you didn’t come from a place where you got the newest cleats every year and the best training. You came from a home where grocery money was spent on cocaine and any football money was spent on heroin. You’d been lucky enough that you were good enough for England teams to notice you, for academies to notice you. You were always good enough that you didn’t have to fork out the extra money and if you did it was your own money.

That’s why you’d been so eager to get out of England, to come to Spain. It saved you from the lifestyle that you had been so desperate to get away from.

“I’m not going to take medication Ale.”

For a long time, you’d blamed the insomnia on the constant partying that happened at your house as a kid. Your dad was a revolving door house kind of person, there were always people inside of your house, women, druggies, sex workers, partiers. It was never ending, and for a logn while you’d just thought you couldn’t sleep because of the constant noise inside of your house. When you went away for your first camp at 11, you realised that just simply wasn’t it, you had a serious problem. Maybe it was a byproduct of always being in a house full of noise, or maybe it was just your fucked up ness, you just knew that somewhere along the way, everything in your brain started working backwards.

“Nena, you don’t have to take medication, but can you tell me why?”

You figure that you’ve already told Alexia too much, why stop now?

“My dad has drug problems, always has, probably always will. My mom was never really home as a kid, when she was it wasn’t pretty. I don’t want to turn out like them. That’s why I didn’t go home over the break”

Alexia’s heart drops. She’s been through her own problems with her family, her fathers death and so on. But she’s always had something and that is a safe place to go if she ever needs it. Her parents loved her, they did everything to protect her as a child, Alexia grew up in a space where she could be whoever she wanted and her parents would support her. You, to some extent, clearly didn’t and it explained a lot to her. It explained why you were so hesitant to accept help from anyone, and why you were such a lone wolf, you had to be for survival.

Alexia suddenly wraps her arms around you, all of a sudden feeling an overwhelming sense that she has to protect you, that you need her to keep you safe.

You’re crying again, it hurts less this time, it comes more from a place of exhaustion than annoyance and anger.

“I just want to rest Ale, I just want some peace.”

Alexia’s grip tightens, she’s compressing your bones in the best way possible.

“It’s okay nena, I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay.”

Alexia just holds you, until you exhaust yourself so much from the crying that you fall asleep.

She doesn’t want to wake you, not after everything you’ve just confessed to her, so she lays herself down on the couch, keeping you pulled tight to her chest as she drapes a blanket over the two of you and rests down against the pillows, deciding that she might as well get a few hours in for herself.

You wake up to the sun in your eyes and the smell of bacon and pancakes.

You feel better than you have in weeks, blinking the sleep away from your eyes and slowly sitting up as you adjust to your surroundings.

Alexia and Olga are in the kitchen, talking hushedly as Alexia cooks over the stove and Olga rocks with her from behind. It feels and looks intimate and you are so tempted to sneak out of the front door to leave them to their peace and avoid all the obvious issues that are going to have to be unpacked with your captain.

You’re seriously considering, but your plotting is stopped when Olga turns around to grab something and she spots you on the couch, conscious and awake.

“Bon Dia, nena.”

Alexia pivots as well, sending a smile towards you.

“Good morning, what time is it?”

Olga detaches herself from Alexia, moving towards the fridge.

“It’s just past six.”

2 and a half hours of sleep, that’s not bad at all, it’s better than you’ve had in weeks.

“Breakfast is almost done, if you want to take a seat at the table.”

You nod at Alexia, standing up from your spot on the couch and walking over to the dining table, taking a seat at the table and trying to tame your bed head whilst Alexia plates up the food.

The plate she hands you is full of food, bacon, toast, pancakes, sausages, fruit. It reminds you of home in a weird way, it’s not a truly traditional Spanish breakfast, more English and it seems like Ale’s done it for a reason.

She waits until you’ve started to tuck into your food before she starts speaking.

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with Jona and the medical team this morning, for you.”

Your boyd goes from relaxed and at peace to tense, Alexia knows it’s breaking your trust in a way, but she also knows that she’s now obligated to protect you.

“I told you I don't want doctors or drugs.”

Alexia takes a deep breath, looking over at Olga and being reminded that sometimes she has to do hard things.

“I know nena, and i’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, I don’t think I could if I tried, but this can’t keep going. I did some research, there are some really good drugs for people that struggle like you, that aren’t addictive and can help lots. I’m not a doctor and neither are you. We don’t know about these things, it’s not our job, but there are people who do know about this stuff and they can try to help you, really help you. You can’t live like this, it’s not sustainable in any way, we need to find some way to fix this. Whether it’s therapy or medication or resting, you need something and you can’t provide it yourself.”

Alexia words are a punch to the gut, but they also make sense, she knows what she’s talking about.

“You promise that I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to?”

Alexia nods her head, she’s shocked that you’re already sort of agreeing with her.

“I promise nena, I just want to help you somehow, however that may be.”

You take a big bite of your food, and a gulp of the orange juice that Olga has set down next to you.

“I slept better than I have in months last night, because of you, I don’t know how or why but something you did made me sleep and if you think that I need help, then I can’t really argue with that. It needs to be on my own terms though.”

Alexia nods, this is so hard for you, accepting help, accepting that you have a problem that needs fixing.

“Of course nena.”

You nod, drawing all of your thoughts together.

“I think I need help Ale, I want help.”

[allthelovehes]

Unholy*

Summary: You follow a course through your job and the teacher who's giving the course is everything you've ever dreamed of.

Pairing: teacher!harry x reader

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: Pussy eating, protective sex, squirting, p in v.

A/N:  This is partially based on a true story. Nearly everything but the smut is what actually happened and I just had to write it.

Ever since starting your new job, you must attend an internal program at headquarters for three-ish months, completely designed to train you for all the ins and outs of your position. It’s not like you have to go there every single week. But you have a perfect little schedule; you go to headquarters two weeks in a row, two days a week followed by a week where you practice all you’ve learned. Then two weeks of your training, two days a week and you repeat it over and over again for 11 weeks total. 

Since headquarters is an hour and fifteen-minute drive from your home, they offer you to stay the night at a hotel near them so you don’t have to keep on driving back and forth. They also pay for your dinner in the restaurant of the hotel and since you’re not the only student taking the course who lives relatively far away, you made some friends and all eat together. After dinner, you all hang out, down a few more glasses of chardonnay, and have a great night. 

The course itself is presented by two men, Chris and Harry. Chris is a couple of years older than you are and Harry is roughly the same age. Both of them are a treat to look at so whether you like the course or not, there’s always something interesting to occupy your brain with. Although if you’re truly honest, you do have a favorite and it gets worse when the end of the three months is in sight.

***

It’s the second to last week of your program. Normally you travel by train, read a book while you’re at it, and enjoy the peaceful start of your day. But today was different, you’re a bit in a hurry and decide to take your car and make the long ride yourself. Putting up some music and singing along at the top of your lungs.

Traffic isn’t as bad as you expected and instead of being stuck in your car for over two hours, it only took one and half hours. Normally the route is packed with traffic, causing a lot of slow-riding cars and traffic jams. But again, today was different.

Being 55 minutes early before the start of your training, you’re left with some more time to yourself. The book you normally would read on the train is in your bag anyway. So you grab a cup of coffee, pull the book out of your bag, and start reading to somehow still get a bit of the quiet morning you’re used to. 

You just finished reading your chapter when the door of the room swings open. You look up and your eyes meet the pretty green eyes you’ve grown to adore. You never imagined you’d still crush as hard at 26 as you did at 16. It’s like the teen inside you is awakened by Harry’s chocolate curls, green eyes, and puffy lips. 

“Good morning!” You greet him.

“Good morning. You’re early!” He chirps with a warm smile on his face. He always seems cheerful, just happy to be here. It makes you feel so welcome in this company. “How long have you been here for?” He adds.

“Not more than 15 minutes I think, honestly didn’t really track time.” You answer.

“Did the elevator work when you got here? I just had to climb the stairs.” He continues, there’s not even a shortness of breath even though he just climbed all 17 flights of stairs to reach the level on which the company is located. 

“You’re kidding! How are you still breathing?” You joke, but you’re actually not kidding. If you had to walk all those stairs, you’d be out of breath by the time you reach the 5th floor. Harry however just laughs at your statement before he puts down his backpack behind his desk. 

He made up this little routine of settling down for the day. First, he places down his backpack and takes out his laptop. Then he opens his laptop to boot it before he pulls his sweater over his head. This man doesn’t like to wear coats, he just puts a sweater on top of his outfit and uses that to keep himself warm. 

You thought you sort of removed him from your mind after not seeing him for a couple of weeks. Harry went on a well-deserved vacation and Chris took over during that time. So the last time you actually saw Harry was 5 weeks ago. But the second he pulled that sweater of his over his head, pulling his shirt a tiny bit upwards in the process had you melting right in front of him. The waistband of his boxers peeks out from his pants. You immediately recognize the brand he’s wearing by the colorful print on them. And let’s not even get started about his delicious happy trail. It’s a good thing his view is blocked by the fabric of his sweater because you for sure are struggling to keep your eyes to yourself.

“So, would you like some coffee?” He suggests as he folds his sweater over the back of his chair. You’re quick to agree on his offer. “Cappuccino right?” 

“Yes, please! I’m surprised you remember how I like my coffee.” You giggle, feeling a blush creep upon your cheeks. 

***

Throughout the entire day, you can’t help but notice how Harry’s eyes meet yours a lot more often than he does with your classmates. Whenever you look at him, his eyes are already on yours. He compliments you when you’re working on assignments and you just feel like there’s a mutual connection there. 

His distance to headquarters is even bigger than yours, so they offered him a similar deal as they did you. If he has to work multiple days in a row, he can stay the night in between in the same hotel as you all do. He gladly took upon the offer, for him it’s at least a two-hour ride home and that’s if he doesn’t include traffic. And since he works 5 days a week, it’ll save him a lot of time.

During the lunch break, you and your friends are making plans for the evening. Many of your nights in the hotel are spent drinking some wine and just catching up with each other. And today’s plans are like no other. Harry can’t help but overhear you guys talking about the hotel and starts bragging about the room they gave him. 

“I slept in room 405 last week. Apparently, all rooms on the fourth floor are deluxe rooms with a bathtub, double bed instead of a twin bed, and a filled mini fridge.” He joins your conversation, immediately planting the idea of asking for room 405 when you check into the hotel later today.

“I never had a bathtub during any of my stays. But all six times I slept in that hotel, I never slept on the fourth floor.” You reply.

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing out. The tubs are too small anyways.” He reassures.

“Your legs are just too long to properly fit into any tub.” You pointed out. 

***

All of you enjoy your dinner together. Harry is always left at work for a bit longer after you’re done with the class so he can prepare for the next day or finish up some other leftover work. And to the question of whether he will join you all at the dining table, his answer is always the same. “If I make it in time, I’ll happily join.” 

And today was one of the days he made it in time. He sits next to you in the only chair that’s unoccupied. Your friend shoots a glance at you, and that’s when you realize she made sure you sat next to the empty spot.

All of you welcome him to the table before starting small talk.

“Oh, by the way, Harry, I meant to thank you for your advice.” You start causing a confused look on the man’s face.

“My advice?” He asks. “What did I tell you?”

“When I was checking in I asked for room 405 and now I ended up in a deluxe room just like you told us about earlier today.” You giggle.

“Hold on, what room are you in??” He asks, clearly even more confused than he was at the beginning of this conversation.

“407.” 

“Ah, right! You got me confused for a second as I am booked in room 405 again.” He explains. “So, we’re practically neighbors!” 

Your brain spins a bit at how coincidentally it is of you asking for the exact room Harry is in. And on top of that, you are indeed practically neighbors. Suddenly you feel glad that you aren’t actual neighbors for the night, cause the rooms are very noisy and there’s a dividing door between every other room, allowing them to connect two rooms if needed. You’re not sure what your nighttime activities will turn into, once you’re left alone in your hotel room with just your unholy thoughts of the man next to you. 

Your food gets served, you and Harry both choose a different dish. He chose the tilapia filet and you went for a steak. Both are served with some veggies and fries. 

“That steak looks good.” He says as he puts a bit of fish into his mouth. 

“Would you like to try some?” You ask him to which he agrees. His fork is all covered in the sauce that comes with the fish. So, you cut off a piece of steak and hold your fork out for him to take it. He hums softly as the taste of the steak hits his tastebuds, sending vibrations through your fork. 

Harry insists on you trying some of his fish too. So he cuts a piece of, similar as to how you did it and holds his fork out for you to try it. 

You’re not much of a fish eater but you can see how people like this particular dish. It’s good as far as how good fish get. 

***

After hanging out with your friends on the terras, drinking some wine. All of you decide to call it a night. It’s nearly 11 p.m., and all of you need to be up bright and early the next day for your course. 

You hop into the elevator together, all of you pressing different buttons for different floors. Soon enough you’re the last one standing as you’re the only one whose hotel room is located on the top floor, and Harry’s of course.

Your pace slows down when you reach room 405. A deep voice is heard on the other side of the door. This confirms your suspicions, Harry is still up. It seems like he is currently on the phone with someone as a one-sided conversation is heard from his room. You decide not to snoop around, for all you know he’ll walk out the door any second and see you lingering around his door. That’d be weird.

Once you reach your door, you open it with the card and enter the room. You were smart enough to turn on the air conditioning before heading down for dinner so the room was cooled perfectly. 

You let yourself fall backward on your bed with a deep sigh. This massive crush on what essentially is your teacher was unexpected. And now you’re full of nerves, jitter, and a lot of unholy thoughts to think about.

You open up your book and try to set your mind in another direction. You have to face the man you’re thinking about tomorrow and above all you need to be able to concentrate. 

After 45 minutes of reading your mind is still on the one topic it was before. So the plan to distract yourself failed miserably. The only other option you can consider is taking a cold shower, cause there’s no way in hell you can masturbate to the thought of him and look him in the eye tomorrow.

You hop into the shower. You start at your regular temperature and decrease the temperature with small steps to end with a cold shower. Your hands travel over your body and you notice how sensitive your skin is. You take some soap and spread it all over your skin. Once your hands reach your breasts you give some extra attention to your achy nipples, pinching them between your fingers. You moan softly, god that feels good.

You realize what you’re doing and stop immediately, turning the water ever colder causing you to nearly squeal at the temperature. You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around your body. 

As soon as you’re all dried up, you crawl back into your bed and grab your phone to scroll mindlessly through TikTok. First, you clear your notifications but you notice one particular Instagram notification that catches your eye.

harrystyles liked your story 8m ago

It’s fucking past midnight, what is this man liking your Instagram story for?? As if you weren’t thinking about him enough already. 

You decide to get out of bed and go outside for a little midnight stroll. The cool and fresh air will do you good. You take your AirPods out of your bag so you can listen to some music while you're at it. 

You’ve been walking for about 25 minutes when you step back into the elevator and press the button to the fourth floor. Harry has finally disappeared from your mind, I mean, he’s still there but just less present. You are tired and just need your sleep.

Room 407 is two-thirds down the hall, luckily the floor is covered with carpet so your feet don’t make as much sound. You don’t want to wake anyone up at this ungodly hour. Nerves kick back in the closer you get to room 405. What if he’s still awake, or what if you woke him up when your door fell closed on your way out?

The sound of a door opening is heard and you’re too afraid to take your eyes off the floor. It takes every bit of strength in you to lift your head up, but when you finally do, your eyes are met with the ones you’ve been thinking about all night. He’s changed out of his dress pants and blouse and into a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants.

“Oh, hi.” You mumble. Fuck, you think. You did wake him up on your way out. And now he’s here to complain about it.

“Hi.” He replies in a whisper. Harry heard you walk through the hallway, at least he was hoping it was you. But now that he’s standing eye to eye with you, he suddenly becomes nervous and doesn’t know what to say.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up when I left my room.” You apologize. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been struggling to fall asleep anyway.” “Yeah, me too. I’m gonna go give it another try though.” You point to your door, gesturing for you to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Harry whisper-yells. “I- uhm. Do yo- uh.” He stumbles over his words. You turn your body back to him, looking at him with your big eyes.

“Do you wanna come with me to my room?” He finally asks and he holds out his hand for you to grab. You’re taken by surprise but after looking at him for a bit too long you grab his hand with a little nod and let him lead the way. 

He closes his fingers around yours and takes a couple of steps back to his room, opening the door with his room key. He steps inside the room, holds the door open, and pulls you in by your hand. The door is slammed closed right after you’re through the opening and Harry's strong arms push you against the door. 

“Hi.” He says giddy when looking at your lips, earning a smile from you.

“Oh fuck, just kiss me already.” You demand, and he is eager to please. 

His lips crash onto yours and his tongue slips inside your mouth. He’s gentle but demanding, it’s nothing like you ever thought it would be. This kiss makes you realize what people mean by melting when they’re being kissed. It’s like every inch of your body becomes one with his.

Your fingers graze his hair, pulling him closer as his hands find their place on your hips. He pushes his body flush against yours, earning a moan from your lips. The fingers of his right hand sneak under the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin. 

He pulls away after what feels like minutes of making out, panting slightly. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and he looks down.

“Can I?” He asks to which you agree. Your shirt is pulled over your head in a swift motion, revealing your peach-coloured bra. Suddenly you feel glad you decided to put on a bra when you went for a walk because you nearly decided to not wear one.

“Fuck.” He moans at the sight of you. His hand comes up to cup your left breast through the padding of your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses your neck, up to your ear. You gain confidence from his words and let your hands travel over his chest, down his sides all the way to the hem of his own shirt. You look him in the eyes for permission. 

“Do it.” He whispers in your ear while he keeps on kissing every inch of your ear, neck, and jawline. You pull the shirt over his head revealing his perfect abs. You can’t help but put one hand flat on his stomach to feel his muscles and moan softly. Your eyes meet his and he has a beautiful smile plastered across his lips. 

His lips are back on yours and his fingers hook in the waistband of your jeans. He’s greedy to get you out of your clothes as soon as possible. He opens the button. His left hand grabs your face and he kisses you passionately on your lips as he puts his right hand in the back of your jeans to squeeze your bum. 

“Hmm, you feel so good.” He squeezes your flesh one more time before he pushes the fabric over your ass. You step out of your jeans and push him further into the room. Your lips reconnect. 

Harry leads you to the chair in the corner of the room and pushes you down in the chair. Your eyes fall down his body and stay glued to the tent starting to form in his sweatpants. His fingers wrap underneath your chin to pull your face up. 

“Eyes up here, baby.” He says. He spreads your legs to stand in between them and strokes his hand over your inner thighs, to your stomach, and up to your lips. He puts his thumb against your lips with his fingers resting on your cheek. You open your lips and softly suck on his thumb getting it slightly moist. 

He takes his finger back out of your mouth and his hands explore down to your chest. Both hands grab one boob each and massage your skin through your bra. He makes sure to flick his thumbs over your hardening nipples every now and then. 

You sink further down into the chair, practically laying on your back with your bum on the edge of the seat. Your feet are tucked around his waist and your legs are spread open to reveal your clothed crotch. Harry is standing right in front of the chair, causing his crotch to gaze over your most sensitive spot when he moves close enough. 

You moan at the pressure he’s applying to your chest. His big hands fit perfectly around your tits and it’s all you’ve been thinking about. Well, not all, but you get the point.

He pulls down the cups of your bra, to expose your breasts. Your nipples are hard and needy. His lips attach to your right nipple to suck on them before he lets go and gently strokes his fingers down your stomach, back towards your inner thighs. The soft touch of his fingertips tickles, sending a buzzing feeling straight to your clit.

He kneels in front of the chair you’re sitting on and wraps his hands around your waist. He places a couple of kisses on your thighs, right next to your core. But never touching where you need it most. He’s making you all needy, drawing moan after moan. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Harry asks. But the view in front of him already gives him the answer he is looking for. You’re dripping through your panties, completely ruining them and every touch is rewarded with another moan coming from your lips.

“Mhm, fuck yes.” You half moan.

Harry finally places a kiss on the wet spot forming on your panties. You immediately put your hand in his hair. After a few more open-mouthed kisses on top of the fabric, he finally pulls them to the side. He lets out a low moan at the sight and smell in front of him. 

He attaches his lips to your core, leaving another open-mouthed kiss on your labia before he sucks the juices into his mouth. Another loud moan escapes his lips, you’re sure anyone who’d walk by would be able to hear the both of you.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” Harry moans. He pushes your panties further to the side and you help him hold them there, giving him full access to taste every single inch of you. He licks up from your bottom all the way to your clit and you can’t help but whine. He continues to gently lick around your clitoris, making sure not to apply too much pressure at once. It feels like pure ecstasy. 

His hands stroke the insides of your thighs again while they travel to your core. With two hands, he spreads you open to allow him to stick his tongue inside of you. He pushes in and out of you a few times before his tongue travels back to your clit. Licking and sucking softly, building up the pressure. He for sure is taking his time with you. His eyes are locked on yours to gauge what you like and don’t like. But so far you seem to have entered another world. With your left hand locked in his hair and your head thrown back.

Harry starts to put more pressure on your clit with his tongue making you all squirmish. Your soft moans go up in loudness. His lips leave your clit but his finger is quick to stroke circles around it before he inserts his finger into your pussy hitting you right on that spongy part. His finger pushes in and out of you and his tongue gently swipes from left to right. 

He applies even more pressure to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud every now and then. His one finger inside of you pumps in and out, building up a faster pace. More juices start to spill from your pussy so he licks from down all the way up to your clit again to collect your wetness and slurp it all up. It’s a sign you’re coming close to your orgasm. Your legs start shaking around his shoulders and he continues his work, going faster and sucking harder.

Soon you can’t contain your moans and your orgasm hits you harder than it has ever done before. Harry’s fingers don’t seem to slow down though, and his tongue is still attached to your sensitive clit. Your moans turn into high-pitched whines mixed with curse words falling from your lips.

“Fucking hell, please” You moan, trying to push his face away from your cunt. His finger falls from your pussy and he softly caresses your mount with a flat hand, his lips are still attached to your clit but he stopped sucking as he moans loudly. The vibrations of the sounds he’s making shoot right through your body. He completely removes his face from you and wipes the wetness from his chin. 

“God, I wanna do that again. You sound so fucking pretty.” He tells you before he connects his lips to yours. The tangy taste of yourself is all you can focus on, making you feel dizzy. 

Harry looks you up and down. He gets up off his knees so he can finally drop his sweats to the floor. The erection in his loose-fit boxers makes you curious, but it gives you a good idea of how big he is. 

He holds out his hand for you to help you get up from the chair. His arms wrap around your body once you’re on your feet and he kisses you deeply. His hands take hold underneath your bum. 

“Jump.” He commands and you listen without a second thought. You wrap your arms around his middle and his erection softly presses into your core. You moan and nestle your face into his neck. Your hips try to grind down on him, although you’re not as successful as you’d hoped. Harry walks to the end of the bed to place you down. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” You say as you put your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. You pull them down so he can step out of them. He pushes you on your shoulders, tipping you over so you’re lying on your back and his hands hold your knees to spread them open again. With one hand he pumps his cock a few times and with the other, he pushes your panties back to the side before he pushes the tip of his cock through your folds. 

“Shit, a condom.” He curses. “I don’t know if I have one.” He says honestly. It’s not like he thought he was getting laid during his work trip so he didn’t pack any. He rushes to his wallet in hopes of finding one in there. He opens the coin section and is happy to be greeted by a silver foil. He takes it out before he returns to you and puts on the protection. 

He goes back to what he started. He rubs the tip of his now rubber-covered cock over your clit, stimulating the sensitive nub. You immediately are a moany-mess again before he slides his tip down and inters your cunt. He pushes in and out, going deeper with every thrust. His thrusts are gentle as he knows you’re close to being overstimulated. 

His hands hold your thighs down before he starts moving back and forth at a faster pace. He bends down to attack your right nipple with his mouth. He sucks sharply and licks over the hard bump. 

The bed starts squeaking loudly when he holds you down around your hips to be able to fuck up into you faster. His skin slaps against yours making the most erotic sounds audible in the hallway and possibly in the neighboring rooms. 

Harry wraps his hand around your neck, not really applying pressure but just holding you in place as he trusts into you slower but with more power. Smacking his pelvis against your clit with every trust. Your panties slipped back down covering half your labia again. 

“Let’s get these out of the way.” You laugh. Harry pulls out so you’re able to remove your underwear but he’s back inside of you as soon as possible. He’s bucking up, trying to hit your G-spot every time he pushes in. And he knows he’s doing a good job as your moans went up a pitch again. 

He grabs your hips and keeps fucking you hitting your G-spot hard every, single, time. The trusts change from hard and deep to soft and fast. Giving you a whole other sensation. He keeps switching between the two different paces until he finds you squirming underneath him again. He bucks his hips hard and deep into you and after a few more trusts you reach your second orgasm, screaming and squirting all over him. 

You were about to apologize but Harry has already attached his lips to your cunt to lick up all the leftover juices. He’s moaning loudly as he’s trying to clean you up. Your own moans become quieter and turn into soft hums as you nestle your hand into his hair, grabbing him tightly. 

He starts assaulting your clit like he used to when you were sitting in the chair. His tongue is doing wonders on your overstimulated clit and it only takes a couple of strokes of his wet muscle to get you to reach your height again. This time however it feels shorter and less intensive, but still your moans picked up again. It’s like music to Harry’s ears.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so fucking perfect.” He moans, kissing you sloppily. His hips meet yours and both of you hum to the feeling. Harry takes a hold of his cock and guides it back inside of you. His hips grind over yours, giving you way too much stimulation but god does it feel good. 

He places his left foot on the bed next to your bum and starts pounding into you. He puts one of his hands on top of your mouth as you can’t contain any of the sounds you’re making. Harry knows it’s already too late when it comes to waking up the neighbors but he doesn’t wanna keep bothering them all night.

Never have you been fucked this hard, fast, and deep all at the same time. It’s starting to feel overwhelming and you can’t stop whining at how good you feel. Harry keeps miraculously pounding into you as he starts to moan loudly himself as well. 

His moans send shivers down your spine, he sounds otherworldly. The deeper his moans get, the sloppier his trusts become. He spills all of his cum inside of the condom before his moans quiet down and he pulls out. He’s panting loudly and he gently swats the back of your thigh twice. He rubs his cock up and down your pussy one more time before he kneels down again and licks your pussy clean. 

“Stay where you are.” He says and places a quick kiss on your lips. He walks to the bathroom to toss the condom and grab a damp towel to properly clean you up. He dabs the lukewarm towel to your overstimulated core and softly strokes the fabric down once or twice. He puts the towel down on the floor where all of your juices squirted in an attempt to minimize the mess.

“There, now let’s get comfy.” He says and gets into bed. “Do you want a shirt?” He asks to which you nod. He gets up to grab his white tee from before and hands it to you. It smells deliciously like his skin in the best way possible. You put it on and it reaches up to your upper thigh. 

Harry lays back down in bed and you crawl next to him. He naturally opens his arms for you to cuddle up to him. 

“I‘ve never been fucked that good.” You chuckle as you take a deep breath. The room smells and looks like sex but neither of you seems to care. 

“Hmm, you felt so good.” Harry’s ego boosts at your comment. And if he’s honest, he’s never been with someone he enjoyed so much and he simply can’t wait to do it again. “I hope you’re going to stay the rest of the night, right?” He asks. 

“I didn’t plan on getting up, I’m way too comfortable here.” You reply to which Harry only pulls you in closer. He places a soft kiss on your forehead with a soft hum. 

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers to which you answer a simple goodnight. 

***

You wake up the next morning with Harry’s body wrapped around yours. The sound of your alarm was ringing from the nightstand. It’s a good thing you charged your phone last night when you were trying to sleep otherwise it would’ve been out of power and therefore not been awakened. 

“What time is it?” Harry asks, his voice low and sexy as he’d just woken up. 

“7:30.” You answer, to which he shoots up. 

“Shit, I forgot to set my alarm. I need to be at work in an hour.” He sighs, but actually, he doesn’t really care. He has the most beautiful girl lying in his bed, breakfast can wait for once and he can also head to work half an hour later, he already prepared everything for today anyway. 

He lays back down and rolls on his side to face you. 

“Hi.” He says. 

“Hi.” You reply, and both of you laugh softly. 

“So, I hope you have no regrets from last night. I didn’t mean to push you into anything you didn’t want.” Harry says, to which you take his face between your hands to pull him closer. You connect your lips to his. 

“Not one single bit.” You reply before Harry deepens the kiss. His cock is already hard, as most men wake up with an erect member. But the beautiful girl in his T-shirt next to him is making him lose his mind. 

His hands travel down her side and cup her pussy. One finger gently slides between her already damp lips and rubs circles around her clit. 

“Har, we don’t have time for this.” You whine and he knows you're right. He sighs before he takes his fingers back from your pussy and licks the tip of his finger clean. 

“I’m sorry. You’re just irresistible.” He flirts. 

“It’s gonna be a long day then.” You joke, neither of you had thought about having to go through today and act like nothing has happened. 

“We’ll see about that.” He argues as if he doesn’t think there’s going to be a lot of tension. “Let’s just get ready for breakfast.” He says and gets out of bed to get dressed. 

You sit up and think for a bit. All your stuff is two rooms down the hall and you don’t feel like getting into your nasty clothes from the day before, especially those panties which are ruined. 

“Can I borrow your sweatpants for a bit?” You ask Harry. “I need to go to my room to get ready.” You explain. He grabs his sweats off the floor and hands them to you. You’re now wearing the complete outfit Harry was wearing when he pulled you into his room. 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You say before kissing him once again and head out to your own room. 

You took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat of the night before, brushed your teeth, and got dressed in a fresh set of clothing. 

When you’re all set and ready, you grab your room key and exit your room. You walk the short distance down the hallway to Harry’s room and raise your hand to knock on his door but he already has it opened before your hand can hit the wood. 

“Let’s go get some fuel.” He says and grabs you by your hand. He leads you all the way to the elevator. He pressed the button to the ground floor where the breakfast buffet was. 

The elevator stops at the second floor. You quickly pull your hand back as you know there are classmates sleeping on that same floor. And since Harry and you haven’t discussed anything about how to move forward, you’d rather not get the confrontation in the middle of an elevator. However, luckily it wasn’t someone either of you knew. 

Once the both of you enter the restaurant, Harry a few steps ahead of you, you notice all your classmates who also slept in the same hotel already sitting at your designated table. 

“Wow Harry, we thought you had already left. You’ve never been this late before.” One of them recalls. 

“Yeah, you’re always the first to eat and the first to leave.” Someone else joins in. 

You don’t know where to look or what to say. It feels like getting caught as you are well aware of the reason why Harry hasn’t eaten yet. Both of you decide to go fill up a plate with a delicious breakfast and just try to ignore the comments. 

“I feel like we’re already getting caught.” You tell him as you stand next to him putting some eggs on your plate. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, there’s no way for them to know.” He reassures. 

You sit back at the table before Harry does. He’s in line for the coffee machine. 

Your friend looks at you. “Spill. The. Tea.” She mouths so no one can hear, but you can see. You giggle to yourself and shake your head no. But she just knows something is up. 

Harry walks back to the table with two cups of coffee. He puts the black coffee in front of himself and the cappuccino next to your plate. 

“Thank you, ba-“ You quickly stopped saying what you wanted to say, hoping no one had noticed. You look around the table but there are no suspicious looks. Harry places his hand on your knee and squeezes softly. 

“You’re welcome.” He says. 

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

[eoieopda]

FINE I'M HERE TO REQUEST PART 3!!! In which Chan better really GET that promotion!!!!!!! Contract signed, payroll amended!!!!!

You can make it angsty if you like, AS LONG AS you promise there will be a happy ending (in this part or........ Another 👀)

the one with chan and the promotion (iii)

you needed a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happened to be free. now, being free is the last thing he wants.

part i. part ii.

pairing: bang chan x reader au: fuck buddies to lovers, hurt/comfort type: drabble (angst, fluff) rating: 18+ | minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my content. wc: 3.1k cw: mad!chan makes a brief appearance but otherwise remains the best boy; gn!reader (no gendered language used); reader may or may not show some degree of emotional availability (gasp!); due to the nature of their relationship, sex is referenced but not actually depicted; very briefly/incompletely edited, oops. a/n: i love you completely and am so fucking sorry it took four (4) months for me to finish this 😵‍💫 i have an epilogue i can offer in penance, if you want it! everyone else, please read the first two parts before reading this!

Chan may be an idiot, but at least he’s self-aware.

He knew it was a bad idea to get his hopes up; to expect that things would change quickly between you, if at all. Even though he saw the letdown coming from a kilometer away, he didn’t do a thing to brace himself for it. It’s his fault, he knows, for exaggerating his place in your life — but that doesn’t make the disappointment bruise any less when the week after your wisdom teeth removal flies by in radio silence.

The lack of conversation isn’t for lack of trying. As he scrolls through your half-vacant text thread now, Chan feels all his efforts staring back at him. All those attempted check-ins marked delivered but not well-received. Swings and misses.

Prior to sending each one of them, he spent minutes upon minutes agonizing over the tone — and the use of emojis — and the possible implications of the proposed emojis — and the fear that he’d just come off clingy, not invested. Reading the finished versions back now, he can recall with perfect accuracy the drafts he typed out and immediately, feverishly deleted. Considering the way they litter his brain, there may as well be a trail of crumpled-up notes in all that metadata.

Does it make Chan cringe to look back and watch himself flatline? Absolutely.

Does that stop him from salting his own wounds? Nope. It never has and likely never will.

Maybe, he figures, he’ll spot where he went wrong and find a way to un-dig this ditch he’s seemingly made.

[Sent 2024/7/23, 15:22] Just got home. Have you fallen back asleep already? Lol 

Naver says your swelling might be kind of bad tomorrow. Do you need ice packs? I have the gel kind that you can mold. Might be more comfortable than a bag of ice cubes 🤔 Lmk!

[Sent 2024/7/25, 08:03] Hi, Hamtori 🐹 How are your cheeks?

I made too much gamjaguk again. I can drop some off if

[Sent 2024/7/26, 17:49] Graduate to solid foods yet?

I hope the antibiotics aren’t making your stomach upset

DON’T LAUGH but I made you a super chill Spotify playlist with healing vibes to

Idk if you remember, but I promised to take you out for pork belly next week. If you’re up for it, are you free on

I miss y

[Sent 2024/7/29, 00:16] Hey

Or maybe, he thinks, he’ll just beat his head against his bedroom wall instead; and eventually, he’ll forget what it felt like to be yours for the day, rather than a night.

Four more days pass without a word from you. Under normal circumstances, one of you would’ve invited the other over at least twice in the eleven days since your dental appointment. No matter how infrequently the two of you chatted outside of your recurrent trysts, neither one of you has ever gone this long without summoning the other.

Something is wrong.

At this point, Chan sees two explanations for the way you’ve fallen completely off the grid: you’ve either succumbed to some tragic, post-op. complication and died, or he’s irreparably fucked something up with you without knowing how or when he misstepped. Neither one of those is an outcome he’s willing to accept. 

The voice in his head nags him so forcefully and consistently that his body eventually gives in. Undeterred by his better judgment, Chan lets it guide him up, out, and onward until he winds up on the sidewalk outside his building.

On the walk to your apartment, he mulls over the foreseeable consequences of the actions he’s already set in motion. It’s certifiably insane to pop in you like this, and once again, he only sees two options: you’ll slam the door in his face, or he’ll confirm once and for all that you’ve left this mortal coil. Bad on all counts, really, but anything is better than nothing.

His timing, as it turns out, couldn’t be better. Right as he lands at the front door, when he needs to think of a way to get in without buzzing you, a neighbor he’s seen once or twice before opens it to leave. Politely, they hold it open for him, likely mistaking him for someone with any right to be there — someone whose proximity to you actually makes sense. Chan thanks them with a nod of his head and a sheepish smile before slipping through the opening.

As the elevator ascends, his fingers move of their own accord, anxiously tapping out a rhythm on the stainless steel wall he leans against. Every worst-case scenario flashes through his mind. There’s a flash of something else there, too, though. Something even more nerve-wracking than all his catastrophizing; something that makes his stomach flip.

Hope.

“Oi, none of that,” he mutters to himself.

It doesn’t work. When Chan approaches the doors in the second before they open, he makes eye contact with his reflection and sees that easy, ill-advised smile creeping up on him.

As he exits that giant metal box, he shakes his head with an anxious laugh. If he’s this embarrassed by himself when he’s alone, the chances of him living through the way you’re about to look at him are…

Well…

Abysmal.

But that doesn’t stop him from powering his way down the hall towards your door. Coincidentally, neither does the fact that he doesn’t have a plan for what he’ll do when he reaches it.

Figuring knocking is as good a start as any, that’s precisely what Chan does, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to appear more nonchalant. 

Then, he waits.

And then, he waits some more.

After thirty seconds pass without a response, Chan knocks again, carefully balancing the weight of his fist against it so the sound of it isn’t too assertive — or too eager — or too desperate — or —

“Left about an hour ago,” a voice says from a few meters away.

Chan turns towards the sound. Several units down, an old woman’s head pokes out of an open doorway. He can’t tell if she’s intentionally frowning at him or if it’s the weight of her jowls pulling the corners of her mouth down. Either way, it feels bad.

Running an anxious hand over the back of his increasingly warm neck, he coughs, “Oh?”

The ajumma clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “You young people never put those cell phones down and yet you still wind up like this.” She works herself up further; her nostrils flare as she rambles, “In my day, it was rude to show up unannounced. We called ahead, and when we called ahead, people were there to answer the door.”

Chan isn’t above arguing with some personified wrinkle, but he likes to think you would be. Even though you’re not here to witness it, it feels important to be the person you might like him to be. 

So, he bites his tongue. 

He nods yet again with a polite smile.

He turns on his heels.

And when he shuffles back towards the elevator, there’s a hell of a lot less of a spring in his step.

Two days go by after Chan’s little fieldtrip. Just like the previous several, they slip away quietly. This time, however, he doesn’t check-in — doesn’t type out his thoughts just to immediately erase them; doesn’t stare at his phone and wait to prove it to himself that it won’t chime.

Lesson learned, really.

It was a bad idea to bet the house on maybes. He knew it on the front end and still chose optimism; now, it serves him right. Played stupid games and won stupid prizes, as you like to say. If only he could stop thinking about what you like to say and instead focus on the fact that you haven’t said anything at all.

Chan grits his teeth and tries hard to focus on the game lighting up his monitor. Whatever Yongbok talked him into playing doesn’t make him feel any better about fumbling you — in fact, it’s proving to be yet another thing he’s terrible at — but it’s sufficiently distracting to have his friends swearing each other up and down in their Discord voice channel.

Actually, he stands corrected. This is also terrible, albeit a different flavor of garbage than his hopeless mooning over you.

Maybe radio silence is better.

As soon as that thought crosses his mind, his phone buzzes against the surface of his desk — three long taps bookended by three short ones. 

Before Chan reaches for it, he lets the poetry of it all sink in. SOS, his phone declares whenever you text him. Originally, although he’ll never fucking tell you so, he chose that text tone because hearing from you salvaged his day, every time. Now, it reminds him that he’s in over his head with no life preserver in sight.

Not bad, he thinks. He should write that bit down in the notebook of lyrics he ruminates over but never puts to music, let alone shares.

The lack of action on his part prompts his phone to vibrate again for emphasis. 

SOS!

Beaming white light bores into his retinas when he finally opens his inbox, and Chan refuses to think about the million times you’ve told him to switch to dark mode or the infinitely-brighter shit he’s been roasting under since he started this game several hours back. All he thinks about instead is the first grey text in an ocean of blue:

[2024/8/04, 23:37] you up?

You tilt your head to the side, smiling coyly when you crack open the door and find Chan standing on your doorstep with his hood up and hands in his pockets. Outside the windows behind you, the downpour he just trudged through continues to dampen his mood.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you lilt, like nothing has changed at all.

That’s the problem, isn’t it?  

Chan lifts his chin slightly as some half-assed nod to let you know that his ears work, if nothing else. Either missing his stony expression or ignoring it, you simply open the door wider, beckoning him to follow you with a gentle wave of your free hand.

He wants so badly to smile back at you as easily as you smile at him — really, he does, but fuck, he can’t make his face do anything but harden.

Once he toes off his shoes, he expects you to lead him straight to your room — or your couch — or any of the other various surfaces the pair of you have misappropriated along the way. You don’t, though. With your lips pensively pursed, you shuffle a bit closer; and as soon as you can reach him properly, you raise both of your hands. One flattens against his now rain-soaked sweatshirt; the other goes for his zipper, tugging gently until there’s nothing left to hold him together.

Carefully, Chan eyes you; watches while you slip the fabric off his shoulders, as if it isn’t twice as heavy as it was when he put it on. Like it’s easy, you turn away, open the nearby closet, and toss that wet mess into the top-half of your standing washer-dryer.

“I think…” Your tiny, upward curve returns while your sentence peters out. Softly, you reach up and brush a damp curl off his forehead. “An umbrella would be a worthwhile investment.”

He should join in on the bit. He should banter right back. He should smile, too — for fuck’s sake — because you’re finally right here. You’re talking to him within touching distance, radiating warmth he wants to live in, and he should touch you the way you want to be touched — the way you summoned him here to touch you.

He should do a lot of things, none of which include snapping at you, and yet —

“Why the hell am I here?”

It catches you both off-guard. You, because Chan has never once spoken to you any other way but kindly. Him, because you don’t actually look all that surprised by the sentiment, even if the presentation isn’t what you expected.

Somehow, that’s the thing that stings the most; not the way your face falls at his gruffness but the inkling you must have had before you asked him over that things between you aren’t sitting right at all.

Chan doesn’t get a response, so he asks another way: “Did you notice all of those unanswered texts when you sent yours, or did you ignore them all over again?”

It dawns on you — and him too, if he’s being honest — that you’ve still got your hands resting delicately on his chest. You reel your arms back in and cross them, not defiantly but diminutively. You shrink right in front of him; and regret hits him like a fist to the side of his skull.

“I didn’t know what to do with them.” Your head lowers while you do your best to look anywhere else.

That’s —

“Bullshit. I’m sorry, but it’s really not hard to keep up a conversation, especially when someone is just asking how you’re feeling.” Instantly he feels terrible for snapping. Softening his tone slightly, he sighs, “I know you know how.”

You look up at him without tilting your head much at all. Peering over that brick wall of yours, he figures. “That’s the thing, though. I don’t know.”

The face he pulls must convey what he’s thinking: Are you fucking kidding me? But you’re quick to prevent him from jumping to any further-out conclusions, amending, “I don’t know how I feel.”

Chan opens his mouth to respond, then thinks better of it. It’s rare for you to open up to the extent you might be about to; and it’s a miracle that you might be willing to now, given the fact that he’s come at you blindly at 160 kilometers per hour.

“I don’t like needing people.” 

Your attention is drawn to your fidgeting fingers and the drawstring of the sweatpants they occupy themselves with. The overwhelming urge he feels to grab them, to hold them still, goes ignored and makes his own hands tense. He focuses hard on your face instead; the crease between your eyebrows while you plot out your next steps.

“I didn’t want to need you, but then I did need you — and you just… you came, no questions asked.” You laugh, either despite your visible discomfort or because of it. “Held my hand and all that, didn’t just drop me on the curb and say, hit me up when you’re down again.”

Chan feels as if he’s been punched, although it’s not offense he takes from your statement. Judging by that flicker of hurt in your eyes, the expectation you had wasn’t for him, personally. It was history. 

You shift where you stand from one foot to another, like that weight on your shoulders is changing. He doesn’t know if it’s getting heavier or lighter until you finally lift your chin to look at him squarely. 

“It scared the shit out of me, honestly — how easy you are to need — so, I did what I always do: I bailed.” Sighing, you finally seem to register how much anxiety you’re holding in your hands. You drop it, then drop them to your sides. “But I think I’ve figured it out.”

You smile slightly, and suddenly, he feels lighter. “I’ve been conflating them, but they’re completely different things, aren’t they?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. Truly, he’s at a loss. He can’t predict which direction you’re about to turn in. Seeming to sense this, you answer his unasked question, “Wanting to need you and wanting you.”

While this makes his brain pause, his body moves. Cautiously, he steps forward and watches you counter him until your back is flush against the wall behind you. 

“Can I have a definition, then, please?” He pleads, voice low, while his hands gently claim your hips. “Because I thought it was want behind the booty call that brought me here, and I don’t want to find myself on a completely different page again.”

You link your arms around his neck and eye him carefully. “It was,” you acknowledge with a small nod. “Different kind, though — a shallow one.”

Chan finds his mouth curving up at the corner, all on its own. His gaze drops from yours to your lips, then back again. It’d be so easy to kiss you now, but he can’t unless he gets some sort of confirmation. “We’re in the deep end now, then?”

“Moving that way, at least. I spook easily, though…” You’d probably love nothing more than to look away when you admit that bit out loud, but to your credit, you don’t. Instead, you run your fingernails softly through the hair at his nape. “I’m not entitled to any more of your patience, but would you be willing to take it one day at a time?”

Chan wishes that he’d at least pretended to consider this. He doubts you’ve ever had a vision of him as someone nonchalant — in fact, he’s the poster boy for chalance in whichever reality that word exists — but it would’ve been infinitely cooler of him not to respond immediately and wholeheartedly with a rushed sigh, “Fuckin’ right, I am,” before leaning in to kiss you absolutely stupid.

Whatever gratification he can’t find by licking into the mouth you open eagerly for him, he finds in the way you keen when he presses his body more fully against yours. The payoff is even better when he stops short, divorcing your respective lips entirely.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he announces, breathless. His grin widens; meanwhile, your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “No! Not, like, never — I don’t have that kind of resolve — but not tonight.”

The sudden switch makes you dizzy. Thankfully, it makes you laugh, too. 

“Don’t tell me you just want to enjoy my company,” you warn. You attempt to say it earnestly, but a smile cracks you wide open. “I’m still too prone to bolt when I hear cute shit like that.”

Chan shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you to plant yourself on that couch —” He pulls his right hand off your left hip and gestures blindly over his shoulder. “I’m also telling you that I am getting takeout.”

You narrow your eyes in feigned suspicion. “I wonder what you could possibly be ordering.”

“Belated pork belly is better than no pork belly.” He narrows his eyes to mirror hours, then kisses you quickly, murmuring, “One for the road,” against your lips.

Then, he dashes off towards your front door. As he goes, he just barely catches you nagging him through your laughter:

“If you’re not going to wait for your sweatshirt, can you at least take an umbrella?”

while likes are appreciated, comments/tags/reblogs with your thoughts are really what make my brain go brrrtt.

skz taglist. multi taglist. navigation.

due to tumblr being ass with tags lately, i’m going to be tagging people in the comments for the time being!

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (19)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer finally takes her out on a date. Part Warning: 18+ explicit content (Public fingering) A/n: I did not forget this series, I've just been distracted I'm sorry!! I also apologize if there are any inaccuracies in some random facts, I am not as smart as him, I can only do a quick research from Google.

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

"SO, HOW DO I LOOK?"

She spun in front of the mirror, showing off the dress she had picked out that afternoon on an impromptu shopping spree. The garment had looked stunning on the store mannequin, and now, in the soft glow of her bedroom, it was more appealing.

The spaghetti straps delicately framed her shoulders, and the lavender fabric accentuated her curves. The bottom of the dress, hovering just below her knees, gave a playful vibe with a teasing slit inching up her right thigh. And the neckline, with its very low plunge, offered a glimpse of her cleavage she couldn't help but wonder whether it was showing too much skin.

"Like you want to get laid," a playful voice called.

Her laughter echoed through the room as she turned to face her phone and realized the dress was hugging her ass quite snugly. "It's too much, isn't it?"

"Not at all," Sandy's voice echoed through the phone again. She glanced at the screen, seeing her friend's smiling face. "You look gorgeous."

She grinned, the reassurance from Sandy making her feel more at ease. "You think so?"

"Absolutely."

She reached for a sparkling necklace and dangling earrings, holding them to the camera. "Necklace or earrings?"

"Hmm." Sandy squinted at the screen, studying the options through the video call. "Go with the earrings. They'll add a touch of glamour without stealing the spotlight from the dress."

She nodded in agreement. "Earrings it is, then."

As she carefully slipped herself into the accessories, Sandy couldn't help but muse her thoughts. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear purple."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What do you mean? I've worn this color before."

"Your wardrobe either consists of black or gray. You had to go out shopping to buy this dress."

She laughed nervously, caught in the act of her predictable wardrobe choices. "Alright, fine." She pursed her lips together before letting out a sigh. "I may or may not have asked his friend what his favorite color is."

"You sly fox," Sandy laughed with a huge grin. "So you do want to get laid."

She blushed, adjusting the earrings. "I mean, if the occasion arises..."

"You've got this all planned out, huh?"

"Well, not exactly, more like... strategically considered?" She tilted her head and observed herself in the mirror again. "Does it make me look desperate?"

"Of course not," Sandy reassured. "It just shows you're putting in effort. Besides, confidence is attractive. You look hot."

She blushed at the compliment, but before she could respond, the distant hum of an engine reached her ears. Her eyes widened, and instinctively, she moved towards the window and noticed a car pulling into her driveway. It wasn't the usual sleek, black government vehicle; instead, the car looked like it had seen better days, although it held a vintage charm that caught her by surprise.

Then reality finally kicked in—he was here for a date, not because of his job. They were actually going out for a nice dinner he had prepared.

She suddenly felt sick.

"Sandy, he's here," she whispered, her voice betraying a touch of panic.

Somehow Sandy still managed to hear her voice from across the room. "You'll be fine! It's not like you haven't spent time with him before."

"Not when my life wasn't on the line." She was met with silence and walked over to her phone, picking it up to find Sandy's disapproving glare. She sheepishly smiled towards the screen. "Too soon?"

Sandy shook her head with a sigh. "Only you would joke about your near-death experience."

"Spencer told me it's a coping mechanism."

"You've joked about it to him as well?"

She nodded. "He's not a fan either." The sound of the doorbell ringing brought her back to the present. "I need to go."

"Wait!" Sandy's urgent voice echoed through the phone again. She watched as her friend's expression softened. "How are you feeling today?"

A warm smile graced her lips, moved by Sandy's ongoing concern. Ever since they reunited at the hospital, Sandy couldn't stop apologizing for what had happened, even when it wasn't her fault to begin with. Her friend consistently checked in on her well-being.

"I'm actually feeling pretty good. Nervous, but good."

Sandy nodded, her smile carrying reassurance. "Good. Now, go enjoy your date."

She reciprocated the sentiment with a blow of a kiss towards the camera. "I'll call you later," she promised before ending the call. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself, slipping her phone into her purse as she descended the stairs.

Spencer was waiting at the door when she opened it, all cleaned up and undeniably handsome. His well-fitted suit accentuated his strong shoulders, and the crisp white shirt beneath complemented the subtle purple tie he wore. The fabric of the suit, in a rich charcoal shade, seemed to bring out the warmth in his hazel eyes.

A nervous smile played on his lips, only enhancing his charm and giving him an endearing quality that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes, however, spoke volumes as they assessed her, taking in the way her dress hugged her curves. Spencer couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before him.

He was so mesmerized that without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, catching her by surprise. In an instant, he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in an unexpected yet tender kiss. The warmth of the moment enveloped them, and for a brief instant, her worries seemed to fade away.

Her initial surprise transformed into a soft smile as she reciprocated the kiss, savoring the way lips moved against hers, and when he finally pulled away, he looked into her eyes with a mixture of admiration and affection.

"I couldn't resist," he admitted, his nervous smile now replaced by one of genuine warmth.

She couldn't help but smile, feeling a flutter of excitement in her chest. "I'm certainly not complaining."

As they exchanged smiles, she noticed a smudge of her lipstick on his lips. She burst into laughter, breaking the moment with a lighthearted touch.

"You've got a little something right here," she teased, reaching up to gently wipe off the lipstick with her thumb.

He simply gazed into her eyes with a sincere smile. "You look beautiful."

Blushing at the compliment, she smiled appreciatively. "Why thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

"Come on," Spencer urged, gently tugging her arm, and she willingly followed him after locking her door.

As they walked down her driveway, she felt Spencer's hand on her lower back, a gesture that added an extra layer of comfort to their connection. Unable to contain her surprise, she couldn't help but comment on the unexpected sight of his vehicle.

"I never pictured you as someone who owned a car," she commented, her tone teasing but filled with curiosity.

Spencer chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "It may not be as sleek as the government vehicle, but it gets the job done."

She laughed, finding his revelation endearing. "Well, I'm impressed. It suits you." Her eyes scanned the vintage-looking car. "It reminds me of you actually."

"What? Old and worn out?"

She shook her head, smiling. "No, not at all. I meant classic, with a certain charm."

His smile widened at her response. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Spencer graciously opened the car door for her, and she beamed appreciatively, slipping into the vintage car's comfortable interior. The soft glow of the dashboard highlighted the nostalgia-infused details of the vehicle, making it clear that Spencer had a penchant for classic styles beyond his usual government responsibilities.

As he closed her door, he circled to the driver's side, sliding behind the wheel. The engine hummed softly and as she watched him, she felt a certain warmth traveling through her body.

In the soft glow of the car's interior, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he looked. His features were highlighted by the dashboard lights, casting a subtle yet captivating glow. Before he could pull away from the driveway, a spontaneous impulse surged within her.

"Wait," she said, her voice breaking the quiet ambiance of the car. Without overthinking, she reached over and gently grabbed Spencer's arm, tugging him back for a moment.

He looked at her with concern. "What's wrong?"

She smiled, feeling a surge of boldness, and leaned over to him. She closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a more passionate kiss than before.

He responded with a mixture of surprise, yet his hand gently found its way to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. His lips moved in sync with hers, and when she softly sighed in contentment, he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, tasting her ever so slightly as his other hand found its place on her thigh.

But when his hand inched under her dress, she laughed and gently pulled away. "I don't think we'll be eating anything if we continue this."

He looked at her sheepishly. "Right," he murmured, readjusting himself in the driver's seat. "Sorry."

With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she settled back into her seat, fastening her seatbelt. "So, where are you taking me, Handsome?"

His lips curved into a smile as he finally pulled away from her driveway. "It's a surprise," he said. "You'll see."

It wasn't really a surprise. Spencer had already mentioned wanting to visit this place and the big sign saying 'PLANETARIUM' at the entrance was already a dead giveaway.

However, the unusual quietness that enveloped the space caught her off guard. With only a handful of staff present, the vastness of the empty lobby echoed the click of her heels.

The atmosphere shifted when he gently urged her to close her eyes. Suspicion mixed with curiosity, she couldn't resist teasing him as she followed his instructions. "What do you not want me to see? I already know where we are."

A secure arm wrapped around her waist as Spencer guided her through the darkness. She could sense a grin in his voice as he replied, "Sure, but the location isn't exactly the surprise."

"What is then?" She asked. The echo of their footsteps persisted, creating a rhythm in the quiet space of the planetarium.

"The experience," he simply answered. "Keep your eyes closed a bit longer, we're almost there."

"This is kind of making me nervous," she admitted. "You're not going to kidnap and murder me secretly, are you?"

His steps faltered briefly before she let out a sigh, urging him to continue moving. "Sorry, that sounded way better in my head."

There was a heavy silence before he replied, "We should do something about you joking on that matter."

"It's called dark humor."

He softly hummed. "There's actually a psychological explanation for dark humor as a coping mechanism. It's a way for people to navigate and make light of challenging situations."

"You've mentioned this before."

"I know," he confirmed. "I just want to remind you that every time you think you're being morbidly funny you're using a well-established psychological defense mechanism."

"And what do I have to do with that information?"

"Well, for starters, you can appreciate your brain's attempt to keep things light." He gently squeezed her hip. "But maybe try to cut yourself some slack for the occasional dark joke."

She couldn't help but smile, even with her eyes still closed. The subtle squeeze on her hip added a reassuring warmth to his words. "I still don't get why your boss wants me to see the therapist you guys provided when I already have you."

Spencer chuckled and pulled her closer. "Because one, I'm not a licensed therapist. And two, my therapeutic techniques might involve a bit too much intimacy for the average counseling session."

She laughed. "You mean sex?"

"Sexual intercourse," he corrected, still not wanting to say the word, which she nudged her elbow into his side in response.

As their footsteps finally ceased, Spencer gently urged her to open her eyes. When she complied, her eyes widened in astonishment at the breathtaking sight before her—a vast array of galaxies projected onto the ceiling of the planetarium. The cosmic display painted the dark expanse with hues of celestial beauty, leaving her momentarily awestruck.

Yet, what surprised her even more was the scene at the center of the room. A table setting, elegantly arranged, caught her eye. The table was adorned with flickering candles, casting a soft glow on the carefully arranged dishes and the gleam of polished silverware.

She stood in awe. "Spencer, this is... incredible." Her eyes swept over to him. "You did all this?"

"Well, technically the staff prepared this." He guided her further into the room. "But I pulled some strings."

"Some strings? I think you pulled all the strings." She threw him a grateful smile as he pulled her chair, urging her to sit down. "This must cost a fortune."

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, settling in the seat opposite her. "I just want you to enjoy the night."

As she took her seat, the soft glow of candlelight accentuated the contours of his face. She felt a flutter in her chest, realizing she was falling even harder for him. It wasn't just the fancy setup; it was the thought behind it that got to her.

Fate truly had a peculiar way of guiding her to this present, bringing Spencer into her life. It was a bit surreal knowing that the worst things she'd been through somehow brought her to a moment like this.

Maybe, she pondered, there's a silver lining, a reminder that good things can sneak up when you least expect them. And now it was worth focusing on those good things.

So she savored his company, the easy flow of their conversation, the delicious meal he had prepared, and the soft music playing through the stereo. She also enjoyed being close to him moments later when they finished their dinner. The warmth of his presence felt comforting as they lounged in the viewing seats, gazing up at the scene above.

"Do you see the seven bright stars forming a distinct pattern?" he asked, gesturing toward a shimmering formation.

She followed his guidance and nodded. "They look like a tiny ladle or a dipper."

He smiled, appreciating her observation. "That's the Ursa Minor, also known as the Little Dipper. And the North Star, Polaris, is at the end of its handle."

"The North Star?" She repeated.

"It's a crucial navigational star. Sailors and travelers have used it for centuries to find their way. It remains relatively fixed in the northern sky, making it a reliable reference point."

"Hmm," she hummed. She then pointed to another set of stars. "What about that one?"

He followed her gaze and smiled.

"That's the Orion constellation," he said. "It's one of the most recognizable and has a lot of myths around it. In some cultures, it's a hunter chasing various prey across the sky."

"And what's the story behind that?"

He leaned in closer to her. "Well, in Greek mythology, Orion was a mighty hunter who fell in love with the Pleiades. However, fate had different plans, and he ended up among the stars, forever pursuing them."

Her gaze remained fixed on the celestial display, captivated by the tales woven into the stars. "So, he's like a romantic?"

Spencer chuckled. "In a way, yes. Myths often carry themes of love, tragedy, and destiny."

"Like human nature."

He nodded in agreement. "Like human nature."

There was a moment of silence before she turned to him. "How do you even know all of this?"

"We often travel outside the city and the skies are pretty clear in remote areas. Sometimes you can see a few constellations."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me you're a secret astronomy enthusiast while solving crimes?"

A bashful smile played on his lips. "When I have the time," he admitted. "There's something fascinating about the stars. They offer a sense of perspective."

She smiled. "It's nice to know even a man of logic and facts finds magic in the sky."

His gaze softened. "Magic has its place in the world, even for a man of logic." He suddenly reached out to the back of her ear and retrieved a dollar bill out of thin air. "See? Magic."

She couldn't help but laugh as she took the bill from him and examined it, tracing the edges. "I remember you doing this trick the first time we met."

He leaned back, a contemplative look in his eyes. "It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

"Considering everything that happened since then, yes," she replied. "You know, I never asked why you were at that bar in the first place."

A subtle blush painted on his cheeks. "I was... enjoying a drink." When she gave him a deadpanned look, he raised his eyebrows. "What? Do I not seem like the type to be hanging out alone at a bar?"

"You stood out like a sore thumb." She gave him back the dollar bill. "I remember you barely touching your beer."

Spencer sighed, taking the money and placing it back in his pocket. "I was supposed to hang out with the team, but they ditched me."

She arched an eyebrow. "They ditched you? Why?"

He shrugged. "Apparently something important came up."

"So they left you hanging at a bar?" When he nodded, she tilted her head in mock sympathy. "Well, it certainly worked in my favor."

He watched her, the flickering memory of that night flashing before him. The first time he kissed her, the taste of her lips, the sensation of holding her naked in his arms. Then his eyes raked down her collarbone, pausing slightly at the swell of her breasts before looking back up to meet her gaze.

"It worked in my favor too."

She noticed his gaze lingering, a subtle heat spreading across her cheeks. The air suddenly shifted as he leaned closer, creating an intimate space between them. There was a magnetic pull, and she felt her breath catch in anticipation. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lightly grazing her skin.

"Tell me what you remember that night," he said, a low timbre in his voice.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear and she met his gaze with a flush coloring her cheeks. "I remember seeing you sitting alone at the bar."

His reply, a mere whisper, reverberated dangerously low. "What else?"

"You came up to me and did that magic trick." A faint smile played on her lips as she reminisced. "I was amused, and we sat together."

His eyes lingered on her mouth. A subtle tension lingered in the air, each exchange building upon the last. "And then what happened?"

"We talked," she breathed, the word lingering in the air like a shared secret as he leaned closer. "We laughed." She felt his breath brushing against her lips.

"Then you kissed me," she confessed, and in the heartbeat that followed, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers gently. She let herself sink into his touch as he held her face, keeping her in place while he continued to taste her all over again.

His lips fit perfectly and she kissed him back as eager, letting his tongue glide into her mouth so effortlessly. She held onto him, slightly pulling him closer as if he wasn’t close enough even when he was practically pressing his body against hers.

When he slowly pulled away, she suppressed a moan. "Like this?" He asked.

"Like that," she murmured, the taste of him lingering on her lips as they shared the space between breaths.

The warmth of his lips traveled down her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that brushed over her skin. "What else do you remember?"

His lips trailed further down, and she shivered. "We..." Her voice wavered, breath hitching, as his hand slid down her arm before his fingertips began to faintly stroke her skin, grazing over the hem of her skirt. "W-We went back to your place."

"Go on," he urged the words hanging in the air. She felt his fingers glide over her inner thigh, stopping abruptly as he reached the middle.

"You..." She let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up, stopping just before the rough pads of his fingers brushed over her panties softly. "...you touched me."

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing her teasingly through her damp panties before, without warning, they were pushed aside, the hot pads of his fingers finally making direct contact with her clit.

"Was it like this?"

Her hand wrapped around his forearm, trying to stop herself from moaning aloud, her eyes fluttering closed as he began to play with her clit, his fingers skillful as he rubbed in small circular motions, his eyes fixed on her. She looked over at him, her mouth going slack as she felt the sensation in the pit of her stomach.

She didn't seem like herself, and although she didn't mind public displays of affection, she wouldn't let it go beyond a kiss. She wasn't the kind of person to be intimate in public, but here she was, letting him touch her when any of the staff could walk in. Heck, she wasn't sure he was the type of person who would do something like this.

His fingers moved from her clit, dragging down her slit and collecting her arousal, briefly plunging them inside and curling upward, pressing firmly against her walls. She looked down to see his fingers gently pumping in and out of her cunt. Her legs were so wide from him that her knee was practically resting against his thigh.

"Tell me," he whispered, "Did I touch you like this?"

Her chest began to heave, her hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over her casually. "Yes," she breathed out.

Soft whimpers escaped her as she bit her bottom lip, trying desperately to be as quiet as she could manage. The fire in her stomach burned hotter with each expert glide of his slick fingers. Her legs opened wider and wider for him which seemed to please him judging by how fast his fingers began to pump into her cunt.

A strained whimper filled his ears the moment he circled her clit with his thumb, the added stimulation did nothing to help her sanity, and moans began to spill from her lips, mouth parting in pure bliss.

"Spence," she whined, voice so unsteady and breathless, she couldn't control her volume anymore, desperate moans mixing with the sounds of her wetness dripping between her thighs.

"That's it," he encouraged, speeding up his fingers. "Let go for me."

The pressure of his fingers was making her impending orgasm loom dangerously close as her back arched from her seat, hand gripping around his wrist. Her eyes flew over to him as she reached her peak, body shivering and writhing as she pushed her hips down against his fingers, feeling them slide from her pussy before circling her clit in rapid motions.

With a final gasp, she lost all control, her mind growing numb, feeling him wildly as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her entire body. She cried out silently, calling his name over and over until she grew too weak while she desperately clung to him.

When he finally pulled away, she felt her arousal dripping down her legs. She stared at him wide-eyed as he fixed her panties back in place before brushing her dress over her legs. When she kept looking at him in a daze, he softly laughed and leaned down, brushing his lips over her cheek.

"Are you okay?"

"I..." she was gasping for air, a hand-tossed over her chest. "Did that actually happen?"

He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her ear. His fingers gently traced the outline of her jaw as her face flushed—lips delicately swollen, eyes glazed with a mixture of desire and surprise. The aftermath of her climax painted her cheeks in a captivating shade.

"Come on," he said, extending a hand and gently pulling her up.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice still carrying the traces of her orgasm. His gaze met hers with an intensity that spoke volumes, revealing an unspoken hunger that mirrored her own desires. His intention was clear.

"We're going home."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: it did not occur to me the possibility of CCTV cameras in a planetarium lmao please excuse me. Also, the plan is to write one last part and an epilogue to wrap it all up.

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[konigsblog]

a simple ask here but how do you envision konig?

I'm assuming this is about his appearance + personality... :3

Appearance -🪞

Thin rectangular glasses. He's always worn them, from when he was a teenager to his late forties. Considering he reads nearly every single day, he keeps them on 24/7, or he'll tuck it in a shirt pocket for easy access.

Long ginger hair. It's got some hints of auburn and blonde in it as well. It comes down to around his collarbones, but he keeps it up in a bun throughout the day. He doesn't enjoy having it sticking to his neck, but will melt at your comforting touch and the way you run your fingers through his straight locks. It's not the thickest, but it's also not thin either.

He has a scar on his jaw. It runs across his bottom lip on the left side and has scarred a pale white colour. It's not super visible, but there's an indent that will never fade away. It was caused by an enemy slicing across his face during his time in the military.

Freckles. They're all over his body, especially down his shoulders, his arms, and his legs.

Pale, blue eyes. His eyes look tired constantly, with prominent and deep eye bags that have been there since he was a kid. It's natural, but makes him look exhausted.

His teeth appear straight and don't look out of place or crowded, but if you take a closer look, you'd notice that they're a little bit crooked. Especially his bottom teeth. He's tongue tied well.

A roman nose. His nose is pretty large, but fits his features well. His features are sharp.

Behaviour/personality - 🧠

TW: CREEPY BEHAVIOUR, RAPE, TOXICITY.

He comes off incredibly creepy. He doesn't properly engage in conversations unless he's actually interested or has initiated it. But, if he finds you attractive then he'll choke on his words and admire your beauty, how you'd look naked and spread out on his bed. He doesn't pay attention to whatever you're rambling on about. You're too pretty to have an opinion, you'd look perfect by his side, agreeing with him.

He's a social reject, he always has been. People dislike him for being eerily quiet. As a kid, he was chubbier than the rest of his peers, but as a teenager, looked lanky and thin after a growth spurt. At 16, he was 6’8”, and finished growing at 17.

Perverted. He's ashamed of himself for his sick and depraved behaviour, of course. He upskirts women while on the train/bus without their knowledge, getting himself excited when they're not wearing anything beneath their skirt. He'll follow them off at their destination, break into their house, and take them when they're not expecting it at all. Whether that's in the shower, or getting changed after a night out. König gets off to the thrill, knowing what he's doing wrong and immoral. He hasn't been caught before – hasn't been called out for the collection of women's underwear he's collected after using their bodies. He has found women passed out in alleyways and taken them in the middle of the night, unable to hold himself back. He should be in his apartment, in bed, getting some rest. Instead, it's one in the morning, and he's fucking a drunk, unconscious woman and stealing her panties, with the hopes he'll impregnate her. In a relationship, he's pushy. He doesn't ask for sex and just cums all over your slick cunt and mouth while you're fast asleep. Your body reacts to his touch, so clearly you want it too.

Toxic. König can't love romantically, he doesn't know how to, he's never been given the opportunity (for obvious reasons). His first relationship was at 28, but lasted 2 months max... He uses guilt tripping and manipulation to get what he wants, coercing you into forgiving him. Oh, you want to break up with him because he's toxic? Do you also want your nudes to be leaked, too? He didn't think so...

Incel. Misogynistic. Sexist. He doesn't come across that way at first, and if anything, he seems genuine and kind-hearted. But once he's in a relationship, he really exposes himself. König doesn't expect you to have standards for him, but has a plethora of expectations you must meet otherwise he'll bitch and whine until you obey.

[just-a-ghost00]

A message from a beloved soul 🕊️

Recently, I felt called to ask for advice from passed on artists that have greatly impacted my life. A few months ago, my role model and most beloved artist passed away suddenly. I never thought this day would come. Or rather I didn’t want to think about it. And lately I feel his energy very strongly. I thought that maybe some of you could need some advice from an artist you miss dearly as well. I’m sorry if this triggers anybody. I thank these beautiful souls that have provided us with light and love for all these years for their messages and I hope that wherever they are in the Universe, their soul is at peace. ❤️

Group 1

Letters : B Y I T J S L G K M U A P G D F Words : guys, tails, mask, Sag, just, Jiluka, Atsuki, July, Aug, days, pay, gay, Yumi, Yuki, Bad guy, kid, must play, guita(r), fly, BSK, family, silk, ask my pals if I still must (???), stalk, dumb, Mt Fuji

Tissue box messages : Singer, blue eyes, Scorpio I TRANSFORM Nov 23 to Nov 29, Capricorn I CREATE Jan 20 to Feb 16, 6th house daily life I LOVE, 12th house Spiritual life I DREAM

Their channeled message to you :

Baby the world is yours to take. Fate is yours to create. No matter the pain, no matter the fears, no matter the obstacles, you must live on. Do you hear me? Live. Scream at the top of your lungs. You can cry too. But don’t give up. I am with you every step of the way. My wings will carry you for as long as I can.

Clarifications - 10 of swords, Black Numen, King of cups, King of wands, 10 of pentacles, 10 of cups

This artist that you are asking about knows that you are going through a hard time and that a part of you doesn’t believe in your ability to make it through but they want to reassure you because not only do you have what it takes but the outcome is going to be much more brighter than you could ever imagine. You’re getting there. You’re so close to reaching your goal. I believe that there are actually two artists that are surrounding you with their love. They are both encouraging you to keep moving, though you may not understand where this will lead you, though you may not see the bigger picture. Because after this period of grieving and emotional turmoil, of hardships and uncertainty, awaits a bright and warm future, full of joy and abundance. While one helps you heal your wounds and deal with possible depression/mental health issues, the other is helping you manifest success in all areas of your life by fueling your fire and inspiring you. You may feel like your creativity is boosted and your mind is fuming with new ideas. Both of them are masculine in their energy. One of them may especially connect with you through your dreams while the other would rather put on your way resources and people that are beneficial to your growth. The channeled message you received was from the one you were asking about. But the other artist still wanted to silently show their support. I believe that in their living time this person wasn’t very talkative but would instead show their love through actions. They remained the same in the after life.

🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️

Group 2

Letters : A V U S E I F S V N A U I M K P Words : miss u, veins, pain, pause, Suki, fave, fame, pave, Mana, Aki, naive, invasive, Nivea, niveau (French for level), suave, Kaname, kiss me, five men, fans, vie (life/live), Pisa

Tissue box messages : Gym rat, creative soul, dorky/quirky, Scorpio I TRANSFORM Nov 23 to Nov 29, Ophiuchus I HEAL Nov 29 to Dec 17, 1st house awareness of self I AM

Their message to you :

My Jade ~ You are so beautiful. Your soul is so beautiful it shines all the way to heaven. God and the angels are so pleased with you. Seeing you grow so much has been my biggest joy and pride. I believe that you can light up this world and save so many people from themselves. But first make sure to save yourself, okay?! Love you ❤️

Clarifications - 9 of pentacles, The Lovers, Knight of cups, Judgment, King of cups, 6 of cups

You must prioritize yourself by choosing to give yourself the love you so willingly give to others. That much is clear. When the time is right and balance is restored, a soulmate will be sent to you to pour more love into your cup. They will come to you slowly but surely. You will recognize them by their piercing gaze and their powerful voice. You know them already. Wow that was very specific. There are a lot of water related cards, three of which can be associated with Scorpio. Then there is also Gemini energy and Taurus energy. I believe that in their living time the artist you asked about was a very generous and wise person. They were probably an old soul and had a hard time finding people they could deeply connect with. I get the feeling that you followed this person since you were a child and you looked up to them. They are a soulmate of yours. Their energy feels very balanced. I believe this person was very spiritual and always did their best to do the right choice and be the bigger person. They would always think of their loved ones before anything else and maybe that is one thing that caused this person a lot of sadness. Which is why they urge you to prioritize yourself. They know too well the cost of overgiving to others only to be left with so little.

🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️

Group 3

Letters : C N L C Z E K U V O T B E A V M Words : clean, zen, luck, black, block me, metal, zone, cat, melon, love u, meat, meet u at ten, note, bone, tune, name, bake, cake, Ameba, volcano, Kubo, Kobe,

Tissue box messages : Gym rat, bookworm, unconventional, Leo I SHINE Aug 10 to Sept 16, Taurus I PROTECT May 13 to June 21, Sagittarius I KNOW Dec 17 to Jan 20

Their message :

Dear friend,

I am so glad the universe has sent me to you. I am so proud of you for fighting for your dreams and doing your best every day to be a better person. You have no idea how much this means to me that you are working so hard to walk in my footsteps. My soul is filled with warmth because of you. Thank you so much.❤️ I love you too!

Clarifications - 6 of cups, 6 of swords, King of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, Queen of pentacles, High priestess

This artist is a soulmate of yours. They had to leave for you to thrive. It was part of their journey to pass on to the other side for you to grow and for them to guide you. It was necessary because their departure triggered an awakening in you. Your gifts wouldn’t have woken up the way they are now otherwise. It was their duty to contribute to your accession to your throne. By that I mean that in order to claim your power and rise up to their level, they had to eclipse themselves and now evolve in the « dark » or in other words on the other side of the curtain. You and this artist mirror each other, especially when it comes to your careers. I would even go as far as to say that for some of you they are a divine counterpart. You are the High priestess. And I saw behind her the Magician. They were the spark and you are the torch that will pass on the knowledge. They’ve taught you everything they had to while they were living. Now is your turn to do the same. You can connect with this person through hard work but also by working on your gifts, especially your intuition. When they were living, they were very intuitive too. They were known as a hard worker and a force to be reckoned with. They inspired people to leave behind what didn’t serve them. And they are now trying to help you do the same thing they did : be a mentor and a guide for others, especially younger souls.

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Rhaella is 17, Aemond 16

132 AC

"Oh shit!"

"I'm fine." Aemond waved her off, avoiding the way she reached to soothe what she had just done.

They had been training for nearly an hour and Aemond suggested real swords instead of the boring practice ones. Rhaella had agreed not expecting to actually make any contact with him. She had been wrong and watched as a thin line of blood trickled down Aemonds face, just under his eye patch. Her sword had just grazed him, a result of his left side being blind and his slower reaction timing on that side.

"Perhaps we should stop," Rhaella suggested, feeling guilty over the small nick.

"I'm fine." Aemond huffed, wiping at the blood, and smearing it across his cheek, "I want to go again."

"You are tired, we can resume later. We should have lunch." Rhaella says, dreamily thinking of food.

"Once more," Aemond demanded

Rhaella knew why he was being so insistent on one more round. She had bested him multiple times today, Aemnd must've been thinking it was because she had better sword skills. Truly, he was the better one, Rhaella was just hiding in his blind spot and exploiting a weakness she knew he had. Something Daemon had taught her years ago.

"If an opponent has a weakness, you should use it. It's their fault for not fighting at their best."

As much as she hated the cunt, he was right about some things, fighting just happened to be one of his strong suits. Maybe his only strong suit, besides Craxes. Daemon's dragon was truly captivating.

She wasn't entirely sure how Aemond hadn't noticed what she was doing. Perhaps it was the heat. The sun was fierce today, she could feel the sweat making her skin stick to her training clothes.

"Call it a day, my Prince." Cole's words echoed across the training yard. He had been watching them while polishing his armor, "Lady Rhaella is clearly tired."

She was not tired. She was sweaty and hungry, and she felt bad for Aemond.

"Very well. Tomorrow then, and I'll be the victor." Aemond declared, taking the sword from her hands, and placing it in a barrel for the smith to sharpen later.

"Mmhmm, sure." Rhaella hummed

Aemond followed her back to her chamber where they ate lunch together, sitting on her balcony while the warm wind cooled them down.

"As my mother talked to you recently?" He asked

Rhaella's mouth was full of the sweet fruit from Dorne that her handmaiden had brought.

"No." She said, her voice muffled with food. She rarely worried about manors around Aemond, he never seemed to care if she stuffed her face full of food or sat with a slouch in her back.

"I was wondering if she and my father had arranged an engagement yet." He said, his eye fixed on the horizon.

"For you?!" Rhaella nearly choked on her fruit, Aemond wanted to be wed?!

"No, idiot." Aemond shook his head, "For you. You're of age."

"Don't remind me." She groaned, swallowing her food.

"Don't you want a family?" He asked

"I do...I just don't want to be shipped off like some broodmare to pump out heirs for my husband and then for my home. I want to live an exciting life, not some boring one." She sighed

"You fly one of the largest dragons alive and you feel like your life isn't exciting?" Aemond teased

"You know what I mean." She said

"I do...I'm presuming you want to actually get along with your husband as well." He said

"Yes well, if we have to marry, having someone I actually can hold a conversation with is preferred

"So every Lannister is out of the question then." Aemond said seriously

Rhaella laughed at his tone.

"I'm being serious." He said, looking at her

"I know. You're correct, that's why it's so funny to me. " Rhaella smiled

"Whoever you marry should expect our friendship to continue." Aemond declared

"I had no intentions of ever ending it." Rhaella said, "Daemon used to say marriage is a duty. I will carry my duty out to whoever I marry."

"You've spoken of Daemon quite a bit recently. Do you miss him?" Aemond asked

"Gods no. He has said some things that...come in handy at times. He's a fool but knows a bit about life I suppose." She said

"I suppose that's what happens when you're old," Aemond said

"I am sure Daemon isn't yet fifty," Rhaella said trying to remember exactly how old he was

"He is older than you and I, therefore old," Aemond said

"So does that make Maester Edric ancient?" Rhaella smiled

"Edric is simply a fossil, my dear." Aemond joked

Rhaella hated it when he did that. Calling her sweet names like it was nothing. It made her heart leap into her throat.

"I said to stop that." She blushed

"Stop what?" He asked, feigning cluelessness.

"The terms of endearment! How will I ever wed if you are standing next to me calling me names." Rhaella said

"Of course, I will stop. It was of poor taste of me to even call you those things in the first place" Aemond said

Rhaella looked over at Aemond. He looked ethereal today, even with dried-up blood on his cheek. Most notably though he had the slyest smirk on his face. It seemed to say "I don't plan on stopping, ever."

"You're a fool," Rhaella said, faux anger on her face

"Takes one to know one, my dear," Aemond replied

Aemond left Rhaella with her handmaids after another hour of conversation. Rhaella had declared she needed a bath after their training, her handmaidens had arrived and ushered him out of her chamber like he was on fire. Truthfully Aemond would've been fine, sitting there with his eye closed while she bathed. He hated not having her by his side. Having a companion was truly wonderful for him.

He found his way back to his own chamber and ordered a bath to be drawn for himself. He was sure the sweat was beginning to make him smell. Here in the hot water and soap, he found was the perfect time to think. His silver hair floated around him as he submerged himself up to his shoulders.

Aemond hated the idea of marriage. Not just for himself, but for everyone. He saw how truly unhappy his parents were, even if they acted as though they were not. Heleana was equally unhappy, although at least Aegon avoided her most of the time. His brother was a twat but at least he let her enjoy her bugs and such. Most of all though, he hated the idea of Rhaella marrying.

He tried to imagine her, whisked off to some castle, away from him, with some lord as her husband. He could feel the jealousy simmering in his chest. Aegon had teased him for it relentlessly. His usually drunk brother was surprisingly keen with his observations and discovered Aemond's crush about a year ago. Now, whenever Aegon caught his little brother staring at their cousin he'd make sure to whisper a remark to him.

"You are greener than the grass outside."

"Does she know about Madame Sylvi?"

Those being the most recent ones. Truly, Aemond hadn't seen Sylvi since his 13th name day. He hadn't even known her name until a year ago when Aegon had been retelling his times with her after stumbling into Aemonds room late at night.

Aemond was unsure of how he'd ever find a way to tell Rhaella not to run off and marry some other lord, to squeeze out heirs for Runestone with him. He could help her make the heirs for her families ancesteral seat. If only his mother could see that he was the best match for her. Not some Tully twat or a golden lion of Casterly rock, or gods forbid Benjicot Blackwood. As he often did, Aemond knew what he wanted, he was sure of it. He wanted Rhaella. He was just unsure of how to go about it all, getting what he wanted this time would surely be more challenging than in the past.

Next Part

Hope everyone is enjoying so far. I wanted to let everyone know I am on vacation I have one more part that is pre-written that I will release in a few days. I hope you all can hold on until I return and have time to write.

Also, am I the only one who, whenever Rhaenrya's kid Joffery is mentioned, gets violent-like flashbacks to Joffery as in Cersei's brat? GOT gave me PTSD I guess. Anyway, I'll share some fun pics of my trip when I return.

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth

@franzelt

@holymusicalmothman

@koobratzy

@schelfinser

@mizuki80

@flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs

@mizuki80

@dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog

@optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se

[hockeyassforposterity]

A beginner’s guide to goalie equipment

//

I’m taking a class dedicated to zine making and self-publishing this semester - and I made this for my first assignment. It’s twenty eight pages, printed on cream coloured paper, and saddlestitch bound with blue linen thread.

You guys seem to love goalies so I thought you might like this. I also love goalies, but in a sort of narcissistic way.

//

Full transcript with page numbers below the cut

(3) Under normal circumstances, there are six players on the ice from each team. One of these players is a goalie.

Hockey has a lot of rules, but to understand goaltending, you actually don’t need to understand most of them. All you need to know is that your team’s objective is to put a vulcanized rubber disk into your opponent’s net. This is called a goal. If you’re a goalie, then all you need to do is to stop your opponent from doing that to you. Most goals wins. Simple.

If items in pairs are treated as a single piece, then my goalie equipment consists of eleven pieces. They are as follows:

//

(4) It’s called a jock or a jill depending on your personal plumbing. This is the one that keeps you from getting hit directly in the junk.

They make ones specifically designed for goalies, but I don’t have one. After thirteen years as a full time goalie, this is the only piece of equipment designed for players that I still own.

“Jock and Jill went up the hill…”

//

(5) They look like shorts but they call them pants.

Goalie pants have extra padding to protect the front of your legs and very little padding on the back. If you fall on your ass, it’s gonna hurt. Ask me how I know.

//

(6/7) In comparison to the skates worn by players, goalie skates are shorter. The boot sits in this hard plastic dish called a cowling that keeps your feet from getting broken. New goalie skates have these built in.

Skating technique for goalies is based on pushing laterally rather than gliding forward, so the blades are straight instead of curved.

I’ve had my skates for almost ten years.

//

(8/9) Big, box-shaped pads made of synthetic leather that attach to your legs with straps, designed to take up as much space as possible. Hard enough that pucks bounce off, but soft enough to move in. Smooth on the sides so they can slide across the ice.

//

(10/11) If I needed a visual metaphor for goalie pads, I would represent them as wings.

//

(12/13) A piece of cut resistant fabric and padding that wraps around the neck and is secured with velcro, protecting it from cuts and from the impact of getting hit.

There’s an additional piece of hard plastic that hangs off the goalie mask by strings so you won’t get hit in the neck at all. These are known colloquially as danglers.

Neck guards are not mandatory in the NHL or PWHL. Some players wear them, but most players don’t. It’s your life, but I think you should wear one.

It is mandatory to wear a neck guard in minor hockey.

//

(14) One big piece of equipment that covers your entire upper body. A lot of little plates all connected to each other.

There is a lot of padding on the front.

And no padding on the back.

Goalie equipment is like a turtle shell, but in front of you instead of on your back. You have to learn not to be afraid. You won’t get hurt if you let yourself get hit head on.

//

(15) Why do they wear jerseys in any sport? So everyone looks the same, but with numbers to still be identifiable, I guess. In hockey, the number 1, but also the number 30 and 31 and other numbers in the 30s are widely considered to be numbers specially for goalies.

//

(16/17) A lot of goalie masks have custom paint jobs. My dream is to someday paint my own. If you know someone who could help me with that, please give them this zine.

I want to cover it in hands, because I love drawing them - but I’m worried that would make me look like a freak. Maybe that’s the point, everyone always says that goalies are weird.

Goalies wear pads and goalies wear art and goalies have special numbers just for them. Goalies do not have to look the same.

//

(18/19) It’s loud when you get hit in the head. If you get hit hard enough, the material of the mask will flex to mitigate the force of the impact and the straps keeping it attached to your head will pop off. So you don’t get hurt, your mask is designed to fail.

I once heard someone say they could never be a goalie because they aren’t mentally strong enough.

I don’t think this is true. Every kid cries at first when they get scored on and then sooner or later they stop. You will learn how to fail.

//

(20) Called a catcher or a trapper, but sometimes just referred to casually as the glove, it has a pocket to catch the puck. You have to break it in like a baseball glove. My dad and I spent years playing catch to break in my first glove.

My parents have two daughters and no sons. After we were born, people would ask my dad if he was disappointed to have no sons.

I don’t know why. You can play catch with your daughters.

//

(21) The blocker goes on your dominant hand and is the one you use to hold the stick. It’s a glove with a literal block of padding attached to it. If you position it properly, pucks will bounce off.

Like your pants, like your chest protector, like your mask, you have to face the puck head on. If you’re afraid, then you’ll get hurt. Do not be afraid.

//

(22/23) Hockey sticks are made out of molded carbon fibre and are hollow on the inside. Goalie sticks have a wider section at the base referred to as a paddle. The ideal paddle length varies depending on your height. You wrap the blade and end of the stick in tape for increased grip.

When I was fourteen I subbed as a goalie for another team at a tournament. My first crush on a girl was on a player on that team. She was blonde and wore glasses. I don’t remember her name. I haven’t seen her since.

There is a company that makes hockey tape with a rainbow pattern explicitly as a symbol of inclusion.

Last year the NHL banned its teams from wearing specialty jerseys in support of causes, any cause, on the ice. Later, they banned players from using pride tape on their sticks. When Travis Dermott used it anyway, the ban was overturned.

Marie-Philip Poulin is the captain of the Canadian national women's team. She plays on the same team as her wife, Laura Stacey.

We’ll get through this, please don’t be afraid.

//

(24/25) Goaltending works by covering as much of the net as you can. Obviously, the taller you are, the easier this is, but the way it’s actually achieved is with angles.

The closer you are to the puck, the less net there is to see. The better you face the puck, the less net there is to see. And of course, the faster you get to the puck, the better.

I am not tall, but I can get to the puck anyway.

If I needed a visual metaphor for goalie pads, I would represent them as wings. Why else would they call it the butterfly?

//

(26) How to be a goalie, in four simple steps:

Learn how to put on your equipment.

Learn to fail.

Learn to fly.

Do not be afraid.

[sen-ya]

part 5/7

is it silly that this is my favorite in this series? i really enjoyed writing kaya and I wanna do it again at some point :')

[op comic masterpost]

[pg1] panel 2: Kaya: Oh! Dr. Law! I didn't expect to find you in our library.

panel 3: Law: K-Kaya-ya!

panel 4: Law: Uh. Ahem. Excuse me. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your books.

panel 5: Kaya: Oh of course not! I'm just shocked to hear we have books you don't! What are you studying?

panel 6: Law: UHHHHH

[pg2] panel 10: Kaya: Oh! Is someone on your crew pregnant? Ikkaku??

panel 11: Law (thinking): She doesn't know Ikkaku is trans. Does she not know that I am?? I just assumed Nose-ya would have mentioned it. But that makes sense. If Straw Hat didn't already know Nose-ya was trans it's not like I would have told him.

panel 12: Kaya: ...?

panel 13: Law (thinking): Fuck, I've been quiet too long. I can't throw Ikkaku under to bus. Just say something.

panel 14: Law: No. Kaya: Oh. Then why...? Law (thinking): Wait, shit

[pg3] panel 15: Law: My, uh...brother...'s...wife. Yeah, we're taking him back to Zou soon...because his wife is pregnant...and I...want...to help...?

panel 16: Kaya: Oh, how sweet! Congrats "Uncle Law" hehe. If you have any questions I could help with let me know!! I specialized in traumatic injury, but I did deliver a few babies in Syrup Village! On smaller islands like that you wear a lot of hats.

panel 17: Law: And you've...been pregnant. Kaya: Well, yeah, but I wasn't my own doctor! Could you imagine if I had tried to deliver the twins myself? Even a doctor needs a doctor, you know that.

panel 18: Law: ...right.

panel 19: Law: ...what...what was it like?

panel 20: Kaya: Oh, my pregnant patients were actually pretty fun! I suppose it makes sense that as a pirate ship doctor you wouldn't have had to know obstetrics. But it was always so lovely to hand a parent their--

[pg4] panel 21: Kaya: ...newborn...baby...?

panel 23: Kaya: ...I'm sorry, Dr. Law. If there's context I need you'll have to give it to me. I'm not good at guessing.

panel 24: Law: What do you mean, I just gave you context. Kaya: With all due respect, you're full crying. It's a new sight for me!

panel 25: Kaya: You can tell me what's going on! I'm told I'm a very good listener

panel 26: Law: ...You Straw Hats sure are a pain Kaya: Sorry, hehe

panel 28: Law: ...I...ahem...so number one, if you didn't know...I'm...I'm trans.

panel 29: Law: But not like your husband. He got the works from Ivankov-ya...I never felt the need to seek that out.

[pg5] panel 30: Kaya: ...I see

panel 31: Kaya: How far along are you? Law: ..12 weeks, give or take. Kaya: Well, I've provided obstetric care of all kinds. So whatever questions you're researching here...why don't you ask me instead of being your own doctor?

panel 32: Law: ...Same question. What was it like?

panel 33: Kaya: Being pregnant was a horror show!

panel 34: Law: A glowing review. Kaya: Oh, sorry! I can lie if you'd prefer!

panel 35: Kaya: I was just so sick my first trimester! Law (speaking over her): KAYA-YA I THOUGHT I WAS DYING FOR TWO WEEKS WHEN WILL IT STOP I CAN ONLY EAT RICE.

panel 36: Kaya: It's different for everyone. By the end it wasn't quite so bad for me, though. And I love my kids so much. They were such cute newborns!! So I was alright being uncomfortable for awhile. Because that's what we wanted, you know?

panel 37: Kaya (off screen): What do you and Luffy want, Dr. Law?

[pg6] panel 38: Law: ...We haven't decided yet. We're giving it to the end of the week. I'm trying to think about it rationally. But I just keep getting emotional any time I talk about it. It's strange.

panel 39: Kaya: An emotional decision and a bad decision aren't inherently synonymous, you know.

panel 40: Law: ...your bedside manner is impeccable, Dr. Kaya-ya. Kaya: Well, thank you! Next time let's meet in the infirmary, mine or yours.

panel 41: Kaya: I'll be your doctor through this, okay?

panel 42: Law: ...Okay...Thank you. Kaya: Of course!

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons Angel Dust wears gloves:

(TW: Valentino, abuse, death)

1. Like actual spiders he can taste/smell/hear with them. So gloves= less input

2. It’s stylish

3. Hell is icky and he doesn’t wanna touch it

4. Covers scars/track marks.

5. Valentino enforced style

6. He’s been taught not to leave finger prints at the scene of a crime

7. Relationship with touch is all messy because of work, this keeps him covered from skin on skin contact while still being stylish.

8. His gloves actually act as a pocket dimension for his guns- to get access to the guns he needs the gloves.

9. Getting his nails done every other day got too expensive so he needed to make financial cuts somewhere

10. Actually really sensitive to a lot of sensations/textures so gloves make life bearable

11. So when he commits the murder he doesn’t need to wash the blood off, just swap out gloves

12. To hide spider markings/stripes

13. He doesn’t wear gloves. His fur actually just changes colors.

14. They aren’t gloves. They’re arm prosthetics. What you think is him without gloves? No those are just prosthetics made to blend in.

15. Val wouldn’t let him get tattoos so these are the next best thing

16. Alternatively: the markings Angel has ARE tattoos/branding forced on by Val so he prefers to keep them covered. Also why Val has him take them off on the studio, to show he “owns” him.

17. The markings are tattoos but rather than being forced by Val Angel got them when he was really high and now regrets them.

18. So when he’s doing arts and craft his fur and hands don’t get covered in super glue

19. Because he can smuggle slight amounts of drugs in them

20. He was never allowed to wear gloves like that growing up so now he REALLY likes so

21. His brother told him gloves like that was for sissies so he did it out of spite.

22. Molly died before him. One of the only things he has remaining of her was a lone glove, now he incorporates stuff like that into his style to stay close. Takes them off in the studio when he can to “keep Molly away from it all.”

23. Same as above but instead of it being Molly’s glove it was his mother’s. The siblings maybe have a shared attachment to them.