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messylustt · 1 year

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౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.4K words

fic masterlist previous part pt three next part

miguel unwillingly pining after reader; fantasies about you in miguel’s head; a massage (pg); a hint of jealous miguel; spanish wise—I hope I wrote everything correctly, I asked for some opinions and check ups from a spanish speaker <3 big thanks to you — after an interesting morning with miguel, you learnt a few more spanish words, not to be late, and having him in close proximity might give you a heart attack. your mind certainly wandered when you were monitoring a mission, the spider peoples’ bickering making you feel annoyed, an emotion miguel unwillingly likes the look of on you. but how does he feel when he makes his request… asking you to follow him to a door you didn’t think you’d ever pass through?

“Checking the location now.” You said through your ear piece, tapping away at the keyboard. Your back was straightened as you stayed focused. You were working with a group of spider variants, who were assigned to get rid of a misplaced “villain” as they liked to put it. It just makes their job sound much more important, resulting in then coming back with a proud sway to their hips.

“Bro, why are you breathing so hard?” Hissed one of the spider variants to another.

“I’m settling into my hero act.” His tone is full of pronounced muscle—most likely standing with his arms by his side like some macho man. He takes a deep sigh. “It can be tough being such a incredible hero.”

The others just stare, clearly used to this from him, before a screech meets everyone’s ears.

“Where is it?!” One of them exclaims, frantically looking around.

“It would’ve blended into one of the buildings’ walls.” You say, scanning the area on your computer.

“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘blended in’?” A spider-man asks. “What is this monster—a chameleon?”

You’re silent for a moment. “Please tell you me reviewed the mission.”

There’s silence through the earpiece. You blink a few times, then close your eyes taking a deep breath. “Why not?”

“Look, I was going to but…Parker distracted me!”

“I distracted you?!” Parker exclaimed.

“Guys.” You try, but they either can’t hear you or are choosing not to.

“You were the one who was so eager to just defeat this villain!”

In your annoyed state, you can’t help but let your mind wander somewhere that had held your attention for majority of the day…

—this morning—

You rushed down the stairs, while simultaneously fixing your hair. Shit, you were gonna be late. All because of these extensive stairs.

When you reached the bottom, your hair had become a mess again, making you place your flat palms against your head as you tried to soothe the stray hairs.

You reach the door to your office, pausing to take a breath. Twisting the handle, you walked inside.

You instantly noticed Miguel, spider suit back on, as he swiped necessary and unnecessary screens back and forth by the large spider.

You tried to stay quiet as you walked to your desk, but your luck seems to plainly not exist as Miguel’s voice greets you—rather gruffly.

“Would it be cliché to say ‘you’re late’?”

You press your lips together as he jumps down. You seem to forget how tall he is until he’s towering over you, with a look that states ‘you should be worried’.

You gulp, before forcing a smile. Miguel’s expression stays dead as he waits for you to speak, most likely to explain yourself.

When you say nothing your mouth opening and closing like a stupid fish, Miguel speaks. “I said six.”

You nod. “I heard you.”

“Did you?” His clicks his jaw, a slight tilt to his head, as he observed your quickly fixed hair and slight heave of your chest. You clearly rushed. “You just woke up.”

“No.” You say indignantly. “I’ve been awake since six, I just didn’t like the idea of walking down those stairs, so…I began working in my room.”

“Uh huh.” He sarcastically nods. “Right.”

You press your lips together, thinking you should have stitched them shut. You weren’t helping yourself.

“You keep saying you want to prove that you belong here.” Miguel begins. He leans forward, his red eyes gleaming, his fangs becoming more visible as he snarls. “If you don’t start getting here at six, then I’ll be happy to drag you out at four.”

He leans back, stalking back towards the big spider, as he webs himself up to the top. You let out a sigh, turning to your desk and swivel chair.

;;

After an hour or so of working, and going over the mission scheduled in a few hours, you feel a breath by your neck. With wide eyes you spin around to see Miguel staring down at you.

When he meets your gaze, you’re placing your hand over your heart. “Can you not scare me like that?” You mutter out.

He leans forward…and forward… and forward, until his large hands are caging you in by resting them on the chair’s armrests. “Scare?” He almost whispers in question to himself.

You’re utterly frozen as his breath tickles your nose and cheeks, which you are sure to be an embarrassing red by now.

“O’hara?” You slowly question, it comes out quieter than you had intended.

His eyes stay focused on your own, as your pulse beats rapidly in your chest. Stop it— you want to say. But you’re not sure what ‘it’ is exactly.

“…did you need something?” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“What do you mean by scare?” He asks.

You lightly shift in your chair, unsure what to do in this situation. “Um…I just mean that you’re…you are kinda scary, O’hara.” You force a chuckle, trying to ease tension you are sure is the annoyance radiating off of him.

“Is it the fangs?” He asks, his eyes strangely showing genuine interest—or what you think to be genuine.

“Kind of?” You say more so as a question. “But also how you never, well…smile.”

“Why should I smile at people I don’t want to smile at?” He asks, his eyes finally dropping away from the entrapment of your own, but to a much worser place.

You self consciously lick your lips, feeling your nerves turning them dry. His gaze doesn’t shift from your mouth for an abnormally long time.

“O’hara.”

His brows then begin to furrow, his eyes finally leaving your lips, making you unintentionally sigh.

“Why do you refer to me by my last name?”

“What does ‘chaparrita’ mean?” You counter.

He narrows his eyes, leaning away from you and back to his full height. “You ready for your lesson?” He suddenly asks, grabbing a swivel chair and leaning back.

You stare at him for a moment. So that was what he was supposed to ask this whole time? “Okay, if you tell me—“

“No.” He says monotonously. “Ahora deja de hacer preguntas y siéntate y escucha.” (Now stop asking questions and sit and listen.)

You didn’t understand what he just said but you can understand his tone, so you readjust yourself on your chair and stay silent.

“Now…what do you say when you want help?” Miguel inquires, his tone now almost babying.

You narrow your eyes, but answer anyway. “¿Me puede ayudar, por favor?”

“Mm.” He hums, letting his gaze drop. “Bien.”

Miguel notices the slight curve of your lips at his praise. He shifts in his seat. “I hope you know what that means.”

Your small smile falls, before a fake one replaces it. “Yes, O’hara, I do know what that one means.”

“You should loose the attitude, chaparrita. Si es que quieres mi ayuda” (If you want my help, that is.) He says, running his tongue along one of his fangs.

“I understood “my help”.” You say. “And the one with the attitude here is you.”

“How so?”

You raise your brows. “Do I need to answer that? I thought you were observant?” Okay, now you were just pushing his buttons for fun. He seemed to get riled up so easily.

A scowl forms on his face. “Si no fueras tan pinche bonita, creo que me gustaría verte arañada” (If you weren’t so annoyingly pretty, I think I’d like to see you clawed up.) He mutters under his breath, his gaze slightly venomous.

“¿Cómo estás?” Miguel says. “Repeat it.”

“¿Cómo estás?” You repeat.

“That means “how are you?”. And what could you reply with?” He inquires.

“Bien.” You answer.

“Mejor.”

“‘Better’?” You say with a scoff. “I feel like I should get a bit more credit…Spanish is hard.”

“First of all—it’s not.” Miguel states. “Second…you know what ‘mejor’ means?”

“It was one of the words I learnt on my phone.” You shrug.

“Any other words I should I know about?” He sounds annoyed, and you can’t fathom why.

“You’re annoyed at that? To be honest I thought you’d be grateful.”

He doesn’t say anything. Mainly because he can’t say the first reason that popped into his head. He wanted you to learn Spanish—all of it—from him, and only him. He also can’t tell you because he doesn’t know why he feels that way. It was stupid, feeling resentful to a phone, utterly stupid, but Miguel can’t ignore the nagging feeling in his stomach.

—present—

“Shut up!” You exclaim, massaging your temples.

There’s finally silence on the other end.

“The invisible monster is moving your way, on the left wall. You’ll be able to spot a slight glimmering shimmer over him. If you look close enough.”

You finally see the spider variants pick up into action, spotting the monster and beginning to attack.

Miguel watched from afar, leant by the open door to the main tech room, arms crossed as he watched you lean back in annoyance. When you were mad your eyes would hood over, narrowing to show only half of your pupils.

You would aways grow hot, occasionally fanning yourself as you unbuttoned the first button of your shirt. And Miguel would always stare, his chest picking up to a quicker beat. But the scowl would be set, Miguel hating the way he reacted. He shouldn’t be reacting at all. He felt pathetic, as he tried to look away.

Every time he’d fail, his gaze only shifting further down your body. Your legs were yet again…spread. An obviously comfortable position for you, but certainly not Miguel.

He’s embarrassed to admit—not that he’s ever actually—that he’s fantasised about being close to your spread legs, his hands being able to spread them further. You were a reactive girl, very hyper aware for a human. He hoped you’d stay the same when he’d touch you.

Your chest heaving, your mouth opening, as goosebumps littered your skin. Skin he’d be able to see a lot more of.

And to all these fantasies he would hate himself, and you. Sure, he was projecting. But he’d rather project anger then any of his hidden thoughts.

“Is it my turn now?” He asks, making you spin in your chair to face the exit and Miguel.

You had finally taken out your headpiece, the mission clearly completed. The spider-men would get back soon. A look of confusion flashed across your features before realisation hits. ‘His turn’. His side of the deal.

You stand, straightening your slightly crumpled shirt—you had been fisting the material in your annoyed state. Miguel ignores the thoughts of instead a crumpled sheet. Your fists clenching around, preferably, his—no. Not preferably his. He clears his head, biting his inside cheek, the metallic taste of blood now tangible.

“Follow me.” He turns, expecting you to do so.

And you do, walking past all the different spider variants in an effort to stay at Miguel’s heels.

Through the journey up the stairs, Miguel—who doesn’t know why he’s walking with you—has been having thoughts. Very…interesting thoughts. Some seeming very similar to those of ‘finding you annoyed kinda hot’ type of thoughts. It also fell back to the thoughts swirling in his head when he was looking at your lips.

He hadn’t meant to do that, his body seeming to have had a mind of its own when he leant over, caging you in.

He’s annoyed to admit—to himself—that he had wanted to kiss you. See what it felt like. Maybe he’d hate it and his strange, annoying crush on you would go.

He’s soon stopped by his room, finally glancing at you, to see that you look confused. “I thought I was doing what you asked…or whatever.” You say, slowing your breathing.

“You are.” He opens his door, walking in.

You watch him, brows still furrowed. You stay rooted to the hallway floor. “In your room?” You look around like you’ve done something terrible, and you’re gonna get caught.

“Maybe you aren’t as committed as you claim to be.”

Your eyes narrow at his blatancy. You edge closer to his cracked open door, him now fully inside. You take a deep breath before pushing it further open, then quickly shutting it behind you.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be in here.” You mutter, staying pressed to the door, as you took in the large looking bed, messed up from his sleep, along with a window, and plain walls. There wasn’t much character and you could tell that that was very intentional.

You then shift your gaze to Miguel who had found himself a seat, relaxing back into it as he clicked his jaw. He finally met your gaze, and in the dim-ish lighting his hair looked messier, his hand most likely having ran through it.

“So…” you drift off, not meaning to come across so awkward.

He tilted his head to the side, silently asking you to come to him, as his legs spread a fraction. You ignored the want to hitch your breath, gulping it down instead.

You stare at him, not moving.

He raised a brow. “You look worried.”

“I’m not worried…just…confused.” You again force a chuckle, a forming coping mechanism around Miguel.

“I think my direction was pretty obvious. I did say it in English.” He again made himself out to be all superior.

You sigh. “I heard you. I’m just confused as to why you asked that.”

“What—did you think I asked you in here so that you’d stay plastered to my door, chaparrita?” He asked sarcastically.

You wet your lips. “Why did you ask me in here?”

“I want a massage.” He says it just so…simply.

You blink, maybe one time too many. “What?”

“A massage, y/l/n.” He says, lowering his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Why?” You haven’t moved from the door, so, Miguel swiftly shoots a web out to attach to your shirt, yanking you forward.

You gasp, nearly tripping over your feet, as you get pulled towards him. Miguel stabilises you with a hand to your stomach, making you come to a stop in front of him. “What the hell?” You stare at him, your chest heaving in shock.

You rip the web from your shirt, quickly brushing it off. “You gave Gwen one. I heard you were good. That’s all.” Miguel says.

Your brows furrowed. “Gwen?” Then you remember. “Oh, well that’s because she just got back from a really hard mission…she was sore and I…dunno, I was bored.”

“And you don’t think I am? Sore, I mean. You do realise I take care of the multi—“

“The multiverse, yes. I haven’t forgotten. I’m just a little shocked, is all.”

“You can say no.”

You sigh. “If I want to lose my job.” You mutter, walking around him. Miguel twists his head to follow you slightly, until you stood out of his gaze, directly behind him. You pause, before gingerly placing your hands on his shoulders. Jeez, he was broad.

You closed your eyes, taking a breath. To be honest you thought his requests would be hardcore, asking you to practically run around ramped. But instead here you were alone in his room giving him a massage.

You began to add pressure. Working your fingers into the instant knots you felt.

Miguel’s eyes involuntarily rolled closed, as he accidentally leaned more into your touch. You don’t seem to notice the shift as you continue massaging by his neck and along his shoulder, veering a slightly onto the top of his back.

“I forgot to ask: where did you want the massage? I just assumed the shoulders.”

“Mm?” Miguel hums in question, sounding far away, a small heavy breath leaving his lips after.

“O’hara?” You ask, stopping your hands’ movements.

A small growl of disapproval fell from Miguel’s lips involuntarily. “Just—“ he takes a breath. “What you were doing is fine.”

You place your hands back where they were, making Miguel relax back into your fingers. You were good—Miguel thought to himself. He can’t remember the last time he released so much tension.

You lean down to Miguel’s ear, your tickling breath making him gulp. “Is there a time requirement? Because I had plans tonight.”

Miguel’s brows furrowed. “Plans? What plans?” He didn’t mean to sound so disappointed and borderline desperate, but he’s thankful you barely heard his tone as your attitude didn’t shift.

You worked your fingers closer to his chest, doing your normal routine. Your grandmother was a masseuse, and of course she had to give you some tips. It was fun being able to practice on Gwen, but with Miguel you felt nervous every time you would press down hard on a knot.

But his responses seemed to be good, considering all the quiet groans and heavy breaths.

“I made plans with spider-man—“

“That’s very descriptive.” Miguel comments, his head slightly rolling to the side.

You scoff, your fingers moving to the base of his neck, where no spider suit material could intervene. The pads of your fingers rubbing his bare skin. Miguel noticed the difference a lot quicker than you did, sounds and words of approval he really didn’t want you to hear threatening to spill.

“Dios, ¿por qué tus manos tienen que sentirse tan bien?” (God, why do your hands have to feel so good?) He muttered under his breath, not really meaning for you to catch a word, but of course you pick up ‘bien’.

“Good?” You asked. “Well, then you should put in a good word for me.” You chuckle. “Maybe I should start a small business and massage all the spider-men and woman. I think I’d do well—“

“No.” Miguel says instantly, still sounding slightly breathless. “If you want to prove yourself you can’t get distracted.” Of course that’s the reason he dislikes the idea. Definitely not because he doesn’t want your hands making others feel like this…definitely not.

“Don’t worry, it was just a hypothetical.” You say, going back to his shoulders. “Now, I hope that’s okay. Because I do need to go.” You bring your hands away, and it takes everything in Miguel not to spin around in the chair, grab your hands and ask you to massage somewhere else.

The tense knots in his shoulders were gone, his neck felt light, and he wanted to feel your fingers run along his abs. This was bad. Why was the lighting so dim, why was your scent so strong?

He spun around in his chair, meeting your gaze. “You didn’t fully answer me before. Who are meeting?”

“It was gonna be spider-man, the one with the cartoonish attitude, and now it’s just Hobie. I dunno. something about an important—“

“Hobie?” Miguel interrupts. He displayed indifference, though inside he was burning.

A weird tension began to fill the room. “Yeah, so I’ll just…go.” You say quickly passing him and opening the door, before Miguel had the (bad) mind to stop you.

You rushed out into the hallway which instantly felt lighter, letting you breathe.

You head to the main communion area, paths leading everywhere along the walls to along the roof, making it easy for a spider person to navigate but not someone who can’t stick to walls.

So you stay on the simple path, skimming through talking suited spiders until someone called your name. You spin catching sight of Peter, Mayday in his grasp.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hey. Sorry, Hobie wanted me to tell you that he can’t catch up for that song session thing, something about getting called in for business.” Peter said, his hands going everywhere as Mayday tried to escape over the edge.

“Also picture that in an over pronounced British accent.” He gave you a thumbs up to which you chuckled.

“No worries, thanks Peter.”

“Mayday!” He suddenly yelled, to which you pointed to the left, displaying her climbing onto a spider-man’s back.

Peter rushes off. And you sigh, thinking you hurried for no reason. Though you are grateful that you could use that as an excuse to get out of Miguel’s room.

As you head to your own, you begin to wonder what this last minute mission could be about and why Hobie had been called in now. Usually the only person who calls people in, especially this last minute would be Miguel.

I guess crime never sleeps—you think to yourself—or something like that.

ahhh here’s part three!—I hope this one wasn’t too boring or not what you expected x part four is gonna be more SeXuAl, I promise

I actually don’t know how many parts I should do, coz atm it’s feeling like a slow burn, but I don’t want to drag you guys along a long ass fic so I’m not sure.

taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbb @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright @pix-stuff

#2 taglist

#the miguel effect #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #across the spider-verse #atsv x reader

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katelynnwrites · 2 months

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stay stay stay | laura freigang

warnings: ~

word count: 891

summary: laura chooses to stay home in frankfurt, with you

a/n: a blurb in celebration of laura's contract extension 🥳

there's a click at your door and you grin, knowing what it signifies.

your love is home.

she rounds the corner with a smile and immediately makes her way to you, where you're curled up comfortably on the couch.

'hi lau.'

your girlfriend forgoes a verbal greeting, in favour of dropping a fond kiss onto the top of your head and later, tilting your head up so that she can press a kiss onto your lips.

then she pulls away and places a paper packet that you hadn't noticed she had been holding, onto your lap.

'what's this for schatz?'

as you look up at her, you realise that that is not the only detail you've missed because laura's got her hair slicked back into a bun and is dressed rather fancily too.

too nicely for running errands in which is what she had claimed to be doing, in her note this morning.

your girlfriend had left you to sleep, knowing that you like to sleep in on days off. it wasn't unusual and you trust her implicitly so you had not been worried.

but now you look at her suspiciously.

she's got her makeup done perfectly and you rack your brain, wondering if she had a photoshoot that you have somehow forgotten.

'what have you been up to?'

'never mind that now. look inside.' she insists.

casting another sideways glance at her, you do as she asks and pull out a small stack of papers.

you blink in confusion and laura helps out by gently prompting, 'just flip to the last page.'

there are a lot of words printed on it and you scanning through them until you finally reach the very bottom where your girlfriend's signature is.

in a voice that trembles slightly with emotion, you ask, 'laura is this what i think it is?'

'a contract extension till 2027? because that's what it is.'

you've known that she has been in talks with the club and her agent for a while, that she's been weighing her options of going back to america or to england too.

laura is an important and talented player so you are not at all surprised by the number of offers she has received. some that you know will pay more than her current contract with eintracht frankfurt.

the blonde bounces nervously on her feet, 'i get that i said errands and i didn't lie i swear. i just did all the media for my contract extension too. well and signed it.'

you stare at her speechlessly and she continues to ramble, ‘i know you said not to factor our relationship into my decision because you’d be with me either way but i don't want to do long distance. not now at least. i want to stay home, here in frankfurt with you.’

‘laura…’ you whisper.

‘i understand it's only been eight months of us dating but i’m serious about this. about you. i want everything with you, early breakfasts before we head to training together, late nights reviewing game film obsessively because we played shit and days off where we just cuddle in bed. i want to grow old with you...i plan on loving you for quite some time. forever in fact and i hope this goes some way in showing that.’

you suck in a sharp breath, your wide eyes meeting her earnest, blue gray ones.

as laura had said, the two of you have not been dating all that long. just enough for you to confess your first 'i love you's to each other.

the german woman hasn't even moved into your apartment officially.

not that you need an officially when she is basically here all the time. her clothes are in your closet, both summer and winter selections. her football kits are washed with yours and her film rolls sit in your fridge.

you had cleared the top row specifically for her, laura had sat watching on the kitchen counter with pink tinted cheeks as you'd done so.

she has got the same blush on now, with her ears adorably flushed too as she fidgets a tiny bit with the rings on her fingers.

in a light motion, you set her signed contract aside. before tenderly tugging her down beside you.

softly you say, 'no matter the distance, i would want to be yours laura. but i'm really glad you're choosing to stay.'

'really really really happy that you are staying.' you add, punctuating each word with a reverent kiss.

your girlfriend giggles, and relaxes into your embrace.

'because i love you so incredibly much. i feel it too schatz. i want to see where this goes, where this overwhelming amount of love takes us. i won't mind being grey and wrinkly one day if it means being with you. being able to return the love you shower me in.'

'oh.'

it is a sort of relieved, choked noise that escapes the striker and she pulls you as close as she can.

till you are practically sitting in her lap.

in this position you can hear the rapid beating of her heart and you let out a small laugh.

it's completely reassuring to know that you have the same effect on her as she has on you.

you're head over heels for her. just like she is for you.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart

#laura freigang #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang imagine #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community #eintracht frankfurt frauen #woso blurbs #katelynnwrites

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samkerrworshipper · 1 year

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let me love you | Leah Williamson x Reader

a lot of angst, ending in fluff, themes of eating disorders, depression and alcohol abuse, 5900 words

please keep sending request yall i need something to feed my brainnn

i’m stuck on a blurb for this so basically just what happens after a rough moment in r and leah’s relationship, can they fix it? can they learn to love each other again? the photo i’ve used says it all lol

it’s piecy and i think u can see my sleep deprivation in this one but hope you enjoy!

I’d known going into camp that I was in trouble. That as soon as the team doctor did our pre camp exam that I was going to be fucked. With the extensive weight loss I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was approached but I hadn’t expected it to be the first night.

I’d been lying in my bed, in my room by myself. I was rooming with Keira this camp, but luckily enough she spent most of her time in Lucy or Leah’s room so I didn’t see much of her. I’d had the tv playing in the background, to fill the room with something other than the sound of my breathing and the sound of me scrolling through my phone. Then my little bubble, my perfect barrier that I’d created was broken by the resounding noise of someone knocking at my door.

“Y/n, it’s me.”

Sarina. Fuck.

“It’s open.”

It was probably the polite thing to get up and open the door but I was comfortable in my bed and while Sarina was terrifying I couldn’t see her getting mad at me over something so minor. The door cracked open and I switched the tv off out of respect for the manager who had closed my hotel room door behind her. Her face was unsteady, like she was unsure how to approach the conversation, something that I’d never seen on her.

“You missed dinner.”

“I feel asleep, the jetlag has tossed me around a little bit. I didn’t even realise until I woke up twenty minutes ago.”

It wasn’t a lie, I had travelled an obscene amount in the past twenty four hours. I’d flown from Cabo to New York, then spent 20 hours in New York with Kristie and some of the Gotham girls before getting on a plane to take me to Barcelona, where I’d spent a very short eight hours with Keira and Lucy before we got on a plane to London to bring us to camp. It had been hectic to say the least and had resulted in one of my suitcases being lost and me being in a very lengthy back and forth discussion with British Airways about how my luggage had ended up in Austria and that no, I didn’t have the time to go to Austria to retrieve it.

“I think we need to have a talk.”

Sarina’s foot was tapping nervously at her side, it was her tell, she was about to have a hard conversation that was not going to be easy to go over.

“Okay.”

She nodded at me.

“Meeting room 2, five minutes?”

I gulped, fuck, a meeting room. It had gone from informal to a little bit to formal for my liking. I nodded regardless, too scared to reply in any other way.

“Yes Ma’am.”

As soon as Sarina had left my room I was throwing myself out of the bed to throw on some proper clothes and make myself look a little bit more presentable. I threw on my light blue tech fleece and puffer jacket that we all had and then very haphazardly threw my hair into a greasy high pony. I pushed some mascara through my eyelashes and some moisturiser on my skin before coming to the conclusion that no amount of makeup was going to be able to disguise the purple bags under my eyes. Once I was done making myself look a little bit less dead I picked up my phone and keycard from my bedside table and left the room, making my way down the hallway towards the meeting rooms.

The meeting rooms had a multitude of purposes, zoom calls, skypes, video review, contract signing. Business stuff mainly, not a talk with your coach. That was what had me trembling a little bit as I made my way closer to the meeting rooms. When I got to the door of the second one, the one I’d been told to go to I waited outside of it for a few seconds before lifting my fist and knocking twice on the door. I didn’t have to wait long for a reply, Sarina was at the door opening it for me in a matter of seconds. I stepped into the room quickly, my eyes recognising all the faces in the room.

I was directed to a seat at the table, sitting directly across from Sarina, Leah, Millie and our team doctor. Lucy and Keira were seated on either side of me and the whole vibe of the room was enough to tell me that I was royally fucked.

“We are all here to have an open conversation about your recent medical exam.”

I kept my eyes on my own hands, which were resting on the table, playing with the rings that adorned my hands. I couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to look into the eyes of a woman who a few weeks ago I had loved so intensely and now couldn’t even think about without crying.

“You're here to tell me that I’ve dropped a dangerous amount of weight considering my normal weight class, that I should get some further tests done even though we know that there is nothing medically wrong with me. We’ll beat around the bush a little bit, try to ignore the fact that we all know that you can’t allow me to play when I’ve dropped this much weight and then you’ll send me home.”

Sarina’s jaw was set firmly, I could make out that much as my eyes darted up to the older woman quickly to catch a look at her facial expression.

“Do you want to die Ms y/l/n.”

I was taken aback massively by the question, because who asks a person that question, especially in this context.

“I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation with certain people in the room. I don’t want to die necessarily but living right now isn’t exactly ideal either. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’ll admit that, I’m aware. I’ve neglected my body, prioritised other things. I knew walking in here that I’d dropped 2 stone and I wasn’t proud of it. I just went through an intense break up though, I’ve been in Cabo for three weeks, most of which I don’t remember. I know that it’s bad, I know that as an athlete we have expectations but I need some wiggle room, I need you to give me a shot to make this better. Because I honestly believe that in this environment I can fix it, I’ll get the weight back, I’ll get back into therapy or whatever. I’ll give up the bad habits, I just need a period of grace.”

I couldn’t look at Leah, couldn’t let myself out of fear that my brave face would fall and I’d be left in shambles sitting here. I just needed to convince Sarina that I could get my shit together.

She was in front of my brooding for a few minutes, leaving everyone in the room in an awkward silence.

“Everyone out besides Leah and you.”

Fuck.

I watched as everyone else slowly got up, Lucy giving me a reassuring pat on the back before exiting the room.

“I’m giving you both five minutes to explain what the fuck happened between you two, because as much as you both want to make it sound like nothing it isn’t. Everyone can feel it and obviously it's affecting the both of you.”

I still couldn’t look at her, it just hurt.

“Seems like I’m the only one who’s suffering.”

“That’s not true nor fair y/n. Leah’s having her own struggles.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes at the table.

“She’s the one who caused the problems in the first place so I’d call that karma.”

The tension in the room was thick, like a cloud laid over us.

“That’s not fair, you had a part in it as well.”

“I had a part in you kissing Jordan at a party?”

“Jordan kissed me first off, drunkenly, she apologised profusely to both of us when she was sober. You soberly made the decision to kiss fucking Alexia.”

If the tension could have thickened anymore, it did.

“You cheated on me with your ex, I think I can cheat on you with my ex situation.”

“Do you realised how fucked up that whole ideology is? I didn’t want to cheat on you, anyone who was there that night will tell you that I physically pushed Jordan off of me, I didn’t want it to happen. I know it hurts you, but you wouldn’t even hear me out, you didn’t answer my calls or texts. I didn’t know where you went, just heard from Lucy that you’d decided to go abroad for a few weeks and you were turning your phone off. I spent 3 days sitting in Keira’s apartment balling my eyes out because I missed you so much, I haven’t slept properly ever since, I can’t fucking live without you y/n/n.”

Leah was sobbing and it hurt a part of me that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to hug her, wipe the tears from her face and apologise for my stupidity, to make it all better. But I was stubborn as shit and I also hadn’t really forgiven Leah. I hadn’t forgiven myself either.

That night had been the worst one of my life. Seeing Leah making out with Jordan had broken my heart and before I knew it I’d been running out of the bar we’d been celebrating in and calling Ale because she was my person and then she was picking me up and taking me back to my apartment and she was comforting me on our sofa and then we were kissing and Leah was walking in, mascara smeared and tears down her face and then Ale was running out of the apartment. I ended up waiting for Leah to fall asleep before I’d fled. I’d been terrified, my fear response was flight, when I was scared I fled, so that was what I’d done on that godforsaken night.

“I don’t really give a shit who did what. You both fucked up, that’s evident. We have the olympic coming up, Leah you are coming off of an ACL injury and you are going to be our captain, y/n, we need you on top of your game for us to win. I won’t deal with this team being torn into shreds because the both of you are too stubborn to talk about your feelings. Am I understood?”

Both Leah and I nodded meekly at Sarina, the both of us equally terrified of the dutchwoman and the tone of voice she was using towards us, like we were six year olds.

“Y/n, I’ll give you a grace period, two weeks. You’ve got two weeks to show that you can make some improvement in your habits, but there will be conditions if you wish to continue training and playing during those two weeks. You will eat every single meal, with the rest of the team. You aren’t going to work out beyond our team scheduled gym sessions. You will go back to talking to a therapist on a weekly basis. You are going to socialise with your teammates instead of holding yourself up in your room by yourself. You and Leah will room together until you can prove to me that you can be civil. If any of these conditions are broken you will find yourself sidelined, am I understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Sarina nodded at me, her blue eyes staring intensely into my own, I was trying to get away from this situation, away from the confrontation that was only bound to get worse the longer Leah and I were stuck in a room together.

“You are free to go, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

I’d given Sarina a quick nod before bolting out of my seat and straight out of the room. I was pretty sure I’d had the worst 96 hours of my life. My whole body felt like it was on fire, my hair and face were still greasy from all of the airplane travel and my eyes just hurt. I half jogged my way back to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me almost as soon as I’d closed the door behind me. I slowly slid down against the solid wood, this whole situation was so fucked.

Not only did I have to focus on being fucking civil with a woman who I hated, I had to fucking turn my whole life around in a matter of two weeks, which right now seemed pretty fucking impossible. I wasn’t a person who cried very often, I wasn’t in touch with my emotions like that. But right now, fat, warm, wet tears were dripping down my face and my lip was wobbling between my two front teeth trying to suppress the sobs that were coming up from my throat. Love hurt. Loving someone and being loved is one of the hardest things that I’d ever done, because it’s not easy to spend every day loving a person, it fulfilling but it also is so fucking painful.

I could hardly make up the energy to get off the floor, so I didn’t. I sat against the door, crying, shaking and trembling as I let out the feelings that I’d built up for the last month. I was a person who didn’t cry very often, when I was drunk, when someone died, when I was really hurt. That was the extent of my emotional release. Leah was similar, that’s why we’d hit it off, neither of us were over emotional, we didn’t read into things and we didn’t over complicate anything. At the end of the day neither of us had to worry about the other one getting offended by a joke or drunken words. I’d honestly believed we were soulmates, for a long time, but that night had wrecked it all.

Both of us had been stupid, it had been the celebratory night of our win in the Nations League, we’d beaten Spain, it was a big deal. Everyone was completely wasted and I didn’t remember much of the night until Leah had been on the dance floor with Jordan, Chloe, Millie, Rachel and some other teammates and one moment Leah is motioning for me to join me and the next Jordan is making out with her and I’m running out with Lucy following me. Then Lucy called Ale because I’d locked myself in our hotel room ensuite. Then Ale was there and she was comforting me and hugging me and I was pissed off at Leah and then I was kissing Ale and she was telling me no and the Leah walked in to comfort me and it was just a fucking mess of alcohol and emotions.

Just thinking about that night had hurt, I hadn’t let myself in the last month. Not when I’d been in Cabo drinking all day and night, clubbing and partying and spending all of my spare time trying to push my emotions away. Then I’d gotten the call from Sarina, I’d been expecting it but it had still shocked me for some reason. In a matter of 24 hours I’d been packing up all my shit and hopping on a plane back to the one place that I couldn’t have been more desperate to avoid. I’d contemplated turning down the call up, but a call from my agent had told me that I couldn’t expect an invite back if I turned one down now. The Olympics was a big deal as well, it was something that I did want to do but the overwhelming anxiety I had felt being faced with the reality that I was walking into a group of people that worshipped the ground that my ex girlfriend walked on.

My thought pattern was interrupted by the sound of knocking directly above my head. The sound pulsated against the wood and across my body, seeping deep into my bones. It was a resounding knock, loud, echoing across the room.

“Y/n, open up.”

It was the voice that I least wanted to hear at that moment and I tried my hardest to ignore it but the sound of the knocking repeating made it harder.

“Y/n/n, c’mon, open the door, I know you're in there.”

It was the nickname that only she called me, a nickname I hadn’t heard in a month and it hurt my soul hearing it. It made fresher tears fall from my eyes that I rubbed at furiously with the sleeve of my jumper. I wiped as much of the smudged mascara and tears from my face, I knew subconsciously that my eyes were red and puffy and Leah would one hundred percent be able to tell. For my dignity though I rubbed it all from my face before standing up and opened the door.

Before I could say anything Leah had slipped past me and into the room, making herself at home and sitting down on Keira’s bed, resting herself at the very top so she was leaning against the headboard. I pushed down any thoughts that I had about Leah being in the same position in our own bed, except with a lot less clothes covering her body.

“You’ve been crying.”

It wasn’t a question, a statement, but it held a question in it somewhere. Leah wasn’t used to me crying, so the fact that I was crying was probably a little bit of a shock to her.

“What do you want?”

Leah pouted at me, sarcastically, it pissed me off how confident she was when I felt like I was tearing at the seams.

“In case you didn’t remember, we’re roomies now. I wanted to talk, I think we both have stuff we need to get off of our chests. I love you y/n/n and I’m worried about you.”

“Go worry about Jordan.”

I was leaning against the dresser, trying my hardest to keep my shit together in front of the woman that was making me feel so many things that I had been denying myself for a month.

“That’s fair, but also not necessary. I didn’t kiss her y/n, I didn’t even get as close as a metre’s distance from her, anyone there could tell you that. I pushed her off me. So yes, she kissed me, without my consent or my desire for her to do so. I love you, not her. I promise you that. She means nothing to me beyond being my friend, I don’t love her.”

I didn’t really know what to say. Leah wasn’t really the root of my anger, because I knew that it had been Jordan all over Leah, and at the end of the day she’d come to my room that night to apologise instead of going back to Jordan’s, I was her priority.

“She loves you, and I can’t do anything about that. That hurts and I know that it shouldn’t, I have no right to be jealous but it hurts.”

Leah looked contemplatively at me, like she was trying to understand what I was saying but knew that she couldn’t really.

“Do you love Alexia?”

I gulped, that was a fucked up question that I didn’t have a answer for. My immediate silence gave enough context to that.

“That’s not a fair question.”

I was deflecting and also furiously toying with a loose thread on the edge of my jumper.

“I think I deserve to know if the woman I love loves me the same way.”

It was hard hearing those words come out of her mouth as well.

��I would be lying if I said I didn’t love her. I dated her for six years, I thought I was going to marry her. I don’t love her like I loved you. We broke up because we couldn’t love each other that way. It was a surface relationship, but we both knew at the end of the day that we couldn’t get married or have kids or get old together, we didn’t love each other like that. We didn’t have a messy break up, I didn’t have a phase where I hated her and I wanted nothing more than to be away from her. We just stopped physically loving each other. She’s still my person Leah, you know that. I regret kissing her, I was so drunk and I was so fucking upset and she was so familiar to me in that moment. So maybe I do love her, in some fucked up way, but I don’t love her long term. She’s not the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life loving, not the person that I want to wake up next to, not the person that I want to write vows for, not the person that I want to be with every minute of every day. I don’t yearn for her.”

I realised now that there were tears in Leah’s eyes, which shocked me a little. Leah never cried, I could count the amount of times I’d seen her properly sob on one hand. Four times. When we won the Euros, when she did her ACL, when she woke up from ACL surgery and that night when it had all happened. Apart from that she was a brick wall, she wore a facade everyday, that very little people got to see broken down. I considered myself very grateful to have been able to see past it, to see the side of Leah that not a lot did. She’d let a stray tear go every once in a while, but proper crying, proper emotional, vulnerable crying was very rare to see.

“Do you love me long term?”

“Leah, that's not a fair question either.”

Tears were running down Leah’s face, similar to the tears that had been falling down my face less than five minutes ago.

“It's not fair? I’ve been here for the last month y/n, wondering if we still stand a chance. Wondering if you still love me, wondering if I should wait around for you? I want to know if you still love me as much as I love you.”

I could feel more tears coming to my eyes, Leah was sitting not even three metres away from me and yet it felt like we were oceans apart.

“I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

Leah was wiping at her face, she detested vulnerability and it was clear in her actions.

“Does it matter? Y/n/n, I am trying to figure out if I am going to spend the rest of my life fucking mourning losing the love of my life. I want to know if I stand a chance, if there is something here that we can salvage, something here that we can try and fix. I will spend everyday making it up to you if I have to, anything you need us to do I am down to do it.”

I shifted from toe to toe in my spot standing, Leah’s words were so genuine, they had so much power over me, sent shivers down my whole body.

“I love you. I love you enough though to tell you that I’m a fucking wreck, some of it’s because of this, some of it is just me. Leah I’m trying to fucking sort myself out now and I love you but I’m not going to tell you that your my priority right now, I love you but I also am trying to learn how to love myself and I’m also trying to learn how to love my sport again.”

Leah pursed her lips, wiping the last of her emotional admission tears from her face. She looked so raw, her blonde hair was thrown up in a messy high bun, an unusual look for her, her face was stripped bare of any makeup and her jumper looked a tad bit too big on her. She looked stripped, stripped of her dignity, stripped of her facade, stripped of everything that made her Leah motherfucking Williamson. I wasn’t looking at England’s captain, I wasn’t looking at Arsenal and England’s world class defenders. I was looking at just Leah. The Leah who would wake me up with forehead kisses every morning, the Leah who would give me foot massages after a rough training, the Leah who would only look at me in a room full of people.

“I’ve worried about you so much that I started to get scared I was praying. You took off and I didn’t know with who or where. I mean I know that I fucked up but y/n/n, we could have talked it out, or we could have tried to. You fled and you didn’t even give me a goodbye. I didn’t know if we were done or if I was ever going to see you again and it fucking broke me. I stayed in bed for a week, I didn’t eat, I didn’t leave. Keira and Lucy literally had to drag me out of bed to get me to do anything. I cried, non stop for a week, it was horrible and I felt like shit. Then Lucy got Alexia to come over and we talked it out and she told me that she didn’t mean for it to happen and all she wanted was for us to be happy and it broke me because how am I supposed to be happy when the woman I love is nowhere to be seen.”

A sob echoed from her chest and it broke my heart, because I hated seeing Leah in pain, I hated seeing her hurt. When she’d done her ACL it had been the most gut wrenching thing I’d had to witness. The only difference was that now I was the source of pain and it hurt ten times more.

I pushed myself off of the dresser and towards the bed. Leah’s head was buried in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees as her palms rubbed furiously at her eyes. I sat down onto the bed and pushed myself up against the headboard beside her, putting one of my arms down on her shoulders and gently nudging her head into my neck. It was uncharted territory but also felt so familiar and right. Hearing Leah’s sobs hurt my soul, but my contact seemed to calm her a little bit. She flinched away initially, unsure but then she was seeking it out, leaving into me and everything about it felt right.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for what happened with Jordan, I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel loved, I’m sorry if I didn’t treat you well enough, I’m sorry if I’m not good enough. I’m trying to work on it, I’m trying to be better,” I stopped Leah before she could say much more.

“It’s not your fault Leah,” My voice came out with exasperation, because I hated that Leah felt that way,

“You made me feel loved everyday, you treated me perfectly. You are perfect Leah, you were a perfect girlfriend, a perfect captain, a perfect person. We had our moments but you are a good person, you don’t need to be better. I’m the one who can’t fucking handle herself, who had to flee the country when it got rough and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that I ran when it got hard.”

Hearing Leah hiccup on her breath was so painful for me, painful enough that I reached my hand down to her face to try and wipe some of the tears off of her cheeks.

“C’mon, you're too pretty to be crying.”

It was a weak compliment that died with the mood of the room, Leah let out a depressing laugh that honestly just made it all worse but her sobs did quieten down a little bit and I noticed that the tremors that were haunting her whole body had slowed down and had become less of a repetitive pattern.

“You haven’t been eating, you lost two stones, did I do that to you?”

Leah’s voice was so shaky, so insanely innate for her.

“Me not eating has nothing to do with you and I won’t have you taking the blame for it. Not everything is your fault Leah and you don’t have to take the blame for it all. I know how your brain works, that you are going to take the blame for everything that has happened between us, but it’s not your fault, a lot of it is mine, my eating habits though have nothing to do with you.”

My voice was a mixture of steady and stern, I had a point to get across and I needed Leah to understand that, I needed her to know that. She wasn’t as fearless and brave as she constantly tried to prove to anyone, she was always the first to blame herself for anything, always getting down on herself and I knew that, I knew that Leah could send herself into a downward spiral.

She pulled her head out of my shoulder and locked eyes with me, her dark brown eyes felt like they were violating me, I felt like I was naked under her gaze, like I was so incredibly vulnerable.

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

I felt like I was under a magnifying glass, like Leah could see every single part of me and could see into my brain. She always worried about me, always. To the point where sometimes it was concerning, I had as much as a sniffle and she was doting over me like my mother.

“I’m fine Lee.”

“If you were fine you wouldn’t have lost two stones.”

She could read me too easily and she knew that I was pretty much putty in her hands as soon as she started talking.

“It got dark for me when I left, I needed to leave but then I was gone and I realised that I was so alone and I was partying to try and avoid my feelings and it worked but you know how I am when I’m depressed, I stop eating, I stop functioning. I lived off of alcohol for three weeks and then I got the call from Sarina and for the first time in three weeks I was completely sober and it hit me like a freight train. I realised how bad it had gotten and I was in shambles.”

Leah nodded at me, she knew how I worked, knew that when I was starting to spiral I tended to push it all down until it got so bad that I had a nervous breakdown.

“You need to eat, we need you playing, I need you on the field. It broke my heart when Sarina came and told me, when she asked me if I’d seen any of the warning signs or if I’d noticed and I couldn’t give her an answer.”

I brought my hand back up to rest on Leah’s face, she was still shaking, still hiccuping with every word that she said. I pushed the tears that were pooling on her face away with the pad of my thumb.

“I couldn’t even tell her anything.”

Leah’s words were thrown out between choken sobs and hiccups, it was so strung out and painful that I felt it in my chest.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, I’m sorry I deserted you. I’m so sorry I hurt you Lee, you deserve better, you deserve someone who has their shit together.”

Leah pulled herself out from beside me and scooted herself so she was sitting in front of me, between my legs looking at me directly.

“I want you though, I want to love you and I want you to let me.”

I couldn’t do much more than look at her, look at her eyes, look at how heartbroken they were. They were full of so much pain, so many sleepless nights and a part of me wanted to fix some of that.

“Let us be happy, let all of this devastation come to an end and just let us be happy. We’ll work through what happened, we can try therapy, or something else. I want you though y/n/n, I want you forever and I don’t want us to give up on that because of some stupid shit that happened when we were drunk.”

Those fucking eyes, they held the sun and the moon, they had the power to make me do anything.

“I want to try, for us. I still think that you are my forever Leah. I just don’t want either of us to get hurt in the process.”

“Love hurts, we work through it. Please just try it for me.”

Her lip was wobbling in between her teeth and it took every single piece of self control I had to not take that lip in my own and just kiss the woman like I wanted to.

“Okay.”

Leah’s face lit up almost immediately, like a kid in a candy store. She leant in towards me, her lips hovering centimetres away from my own and her eyes looking into my own and it took literally every piece of my self control not to initiate anything.

“Is this okay?”

Leah’s voice was calmer this time, less rough on the edges, less broken. I nodded eagerly at her and relaxed into her body as she pressed her lips to mine. It was soft, tender, relaxing, so perfect.

“How about this?”

It was murmured against my lips, a small smirk forming along Leah’s lips.

“So good, but I think we are both overdue for some sleep.”

Leah frowned against my lips but nodded, we were both tired and it was obvious in our actions. She plopped herself down next to me, relaxing into my body and laying her head against my chest.

“Flick the lamp of love.”

The term of endearment sent a shiver down my back, it was so normal and yet so shocking to me. I obeyed her immediately, turning over to the bedside lamp and flicking it off so we were left in the dark. I shrugged my jacket off before relaxing down into the pillow. Leah shifted around for a few seconds, finding a comfortable spot on my body before stilling herself. She looked so small curled up against me, I tugged her hair out of its bun and rubbed her roots just the way I knew she liked me too and rubbed her back the way I knew sent her straight to sleep. It probably took not even a minute before Leah’s body relaxed fully and her breaths evened out and when they did I smiled a little bit looking at her exhausted form. I leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before relaxing myself fully against the pillows and preparing myself for my own sleep.

“I love you Leah, always.”

#woso #leah williamson #lionesses #marry me rn #arsenal wfc #woso community #leah williamson x reader #sarina wiegman #lucy bronze #kiera walsh #angst #rip my mental health

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ddarker-dreams · 6 months

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Lock, do you think Blade smells like blood?? Or does Scara has burnt smell to him??? Thought?? 🧎‍♀️

my personal theory that's been certified through extensive peer review and quantitative analysis:

blade smells like anise with a faint, underlying hint of blood. it doesn't go away, even if you give him a bath. death clings stubbornly to the one who follows so closely in its shadow. after a while, you get used to it and stop picking up on the scent. that is, until he leaves for a long period of time. upon his return, you notice it again, restarting the cycle anew.

regarding scara... he perfumes his clothes with incense, specifically, kyara taikan. he has expensive taste. other than that, he washes his hair with a shampoo smelling of fresh citrus. it makes for a pleasant combination. if you're encountering him after a fight, however, then there is a noticeable change comparable to charred wood.

#i think about them a normal amount (this is a lie)#scaramouche brainrot #blade brainrot #answered #Anonymous

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dr-hairblog · 1 year

Text

DR-HAİR - DEVASA+ (4)

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However, like any medical procedure, hair transplants also come with their own drawbacks and alternatives. It's essential for anyone considering this treatment to conduct thorough research and understand the potential risks and maintenance requirements involved. For example, hair transplant maintenance can be a lengthy process that requires commitment from the patient to ensure the best results.

While hair transplant reviews generally paint a positive picture, some patients might find the recovery process challenging or might not achieve the desired results. Hence, exploring hair transplant alternatives can be a prudent step for those who might not be suitable candidates for the procedure or those who prefer a less invasive approach.

In conclusion, Turkey stands out in the field of medical tourism, offering quality hair transplant procedures at affordable costs. With its high success rate and patient satisfaction, it proves to be an excellent choice for those seeking overseas treatment for hair loss. However, it's crucial to consider the potential drawbacks and maintenance requirements associated with hair transplants, and explore alternatives if necessary, to ensure an informed decision.

Unveiling the Intricacies of Hair Transplant Procedures in Turkey

The hair transplant industry in Turkey has grown exponentially over the past decade, making it one of the top destinations worldwide for this sought-after procedure. Two of the most common methods utilized are Follicular Unit Extraction (FUE) and Follicular Unit Transplantation (FUT). Both transplant techniques have proven to be highly efficient, each with its unique advantages tailored to the patient's individual needs.

Follicular Unit Extraction is a meticulous method that involves harvesting individual hair follicles from the donor area and implanting them into the balding or thinning sections. On the other hand, Follicular Unit Transplantation involves removing a thin strip of hair-bearing skin from the back of the scalp, which is then divided into individual follicular units via microscopic dissection before being transplanted into the recipient area.

Anesthesia is a crucial part of the hair transplant procedure in Turkey, ensuring that patients experience minimal discomfort during the operation. The surgical team, equipped with state-of-the-art surgical instruments, prioritizes patient comfort and safety, making the procedure as painless as possible.

The advent of the robotic hair transplant has revolutionized the industry, enhancing precision and reducing the time taken for each transplant session. This advanced technology ensures that the patient's natural hair growth pattern is maintained, offering an undeniably realistic and satisfying result.

The transplant cost in Turkey varies depending on the complexity of the hair transplant surgery, the number of grafts required, and the specific technique employed. Despite these variables, Turkey remains a cost-effective choice for hair transplant procedures given the high standard of care and postoperative services offered.

To sum up, a hair transplant procedure in Turkey, whether FUE, FUT, or a robotic hair transplant, is a comprehensive process that involves a skilled surgical team, advanced surgical instruments, and a patient-centric approach. The focus is always on ensuring the best possible outcome for the patient, making Turkey a preferred destination for those seeking to address hair loss effectively and efficiently.

The Comprehensive Guide to Understanding Hair Transplant in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey has gained worldwide recognition for its high-quality services, affordable costs, and impressive results. One critical aspect of this procedure involves the use of donor hair, which is typically taken from a donor site at the back of the patient's head, where hair growth is most abundant. The donor hair is then transplanted to the recipient site, usually the balding or thinning areas on the scalp.

During the surgical procedure, a hair surgeon meticulously extracts hair grafts from the donor site and plants them onto the recipient site. The objective is to achieve a natural look that complements the patient's hair growth pattern. It's a delicate process that requires precision, expertise, and a deep understanding of aesthetic hair patterns.

Preparing for a hair transplant involves several steps. The hair transplant preparation phase generally includes a thorough consultation with a hair surgeon. During this time, the doctor will provide detailed hair transplant advice, discuss the patient's hair transplant expectations, and explain the entire process, including potential hair transplant side effects.

Once the procedure is complete, the patient's journey towards a fuller head of hair is not over. Post-surgical care, or hair transplant recovery, is a crucial phase of the process. The patient should follow a specific hair transplant follow up regimen to ensure optimal healing and growth. This may include taking prescribed medications, avoiding strenuous activities, and following a recommended hair care routine.

Seeing is believing, and nothing proves the effectiveness of hair transplant in Turkey better than hair transplant before and after pictures. These images showcase the remarkable transformation that patients can achieve with this procedure. However, it's important to remember that results may vary based on the individual's hair characteristics, the extent of their hair loss, and their adherence to post-surgical care guidelines.

The journey to reclaiming a full head of hair may seem daunting, but with the right advice and guidance, it becomes a journey worth embarking on. Hair transplant in Turkey offers individuals battling hair loss a chance to regain their confidence and enjoy a renewed sense of self.

Dermatology and Cosmetic Surgery: Understanding Hair Transplant Safety and Efficiency in Turkey

The field of dermatology has seen significant advancements in recent years, particularly in the area of cosmetic surgery. One such procedure that has gained popularity worldwide is hair transplantation. In Turkey, this procedure has become a sought-after solution for many individuals suffering from hair loss. This piece aims to provide you with comprehensive hair transplant information, including pre-operative evaluation, post-operative care, and more vital aspects.

Hair transplantation is a healthcare service that requires careful consultation and planning. The process begins with a thorough pre-operative evaluation. During this phase, the patient's overall health is assessed, their hair loss pattern is evaluated, and a suitable treatment plan is crafted. A dermatologist or cosmetic surgeon specializing in hair transplant will guide the patient through this process.

Post-operative care is crucial to the success and efficiency of the hair transplant. Patients are given post-transplant instructions that they must adhere to strictly. These may include guidelines on washing the scalp, taking prescribed medications, and avoiding certain activities that could jeopardize the results of the surgery.

The recovery time from a hair transplant can vary depending on several factors, including the patient's overall health and the extent of the transplant. However, it is essential for patients to understand that this is not an overnight process, and patience is needed to see the full results of the procedure.

While hair transplant risks and hair transplant complications are minimal, it is crucial to be aware of them. Some potential risks include infection, scarring, unnatural-looking hair, and the possibility of the transplanted hair not growing as expected. It is important to discuss these risks in detail with the surgeon during the consultation phase.

Hair transplant safety is of utmost importance. Precautions are taken to ensure the patient's well-being during and after the procedure. These may include sterilization of surgical instruments, use of local anesthesia, and close monitoring of the patient's vital signs throughout the procedure.

Lastly, the efficiency of hair transplant procedures in Turkey is noteworthy. Many individuals have seen significant improvement in their hair density and appearance post-procedure. However, it is worth mentioning that results may vary from person to person based on factors like their overall health, age, and the extent of hair loss.

In conclusion, understanding hair transplant procedures, from pre-operative evaluation to post-operative care, is crucial for anyone considering this option. The more informed you are, the better you can navigate your hair transplant journey in Turkey.

Unveiling the Authenticity and Reliability of Hair Transplant Methods in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey has been a subject of global interest due to the impressive hair transplant results obtained by numerous individuals. The country is renowned for its innovative approaches and technological advancements in this field, which contribute to the high success rates in achieving desirable hair transplant results.

A crucial part of the hair transplant strategy in Turkey is the careful selection of the most suitable hair transplant options for each individual. One of the key factors determining the success of a hair transplant is the accuracy of this selection process. The variety of hair transplant methods available in Turkey ensures that every individual can find a technique that best suits their specific needs and expectations.

The duration of a hair transplant procedure is another important aspect to consider when planning for a hair transplant in Turkey. The time taken for the procedure can vary significantly depending on the chosen hair transplant methods. However, the advanced hair transplant technology used in Turkey enables surgeons to perform the procedures efficiently without compromising on the quality of the transplant results.

Innovation plays a vital role in the hair transplant strategy adopted in Turkey. Continuous research and development efforts are directed towards improving existing hair transplant methods and developing new ones. The use of cutting-edge hair transplant technology is a testament to the commitment of Turkish specialists to innovation in this field.

The reliability of hair transplant procedures in Turkey is reinforced by the authenticity of the methods used. The techniques employed are scientifically proven and have been successfully utilized in numerous procedures. This authenticity provides reassurance to individuals seeking hair transplant in Turkey, as they can trust in the reliability of the procedures and the results they can achieve.

In conclusion, the hair transplant strategy in Turkey is characterized by a strong emphasis on innovation, use of advanced technology, and selection of the most appropriate hair transplant options for individuals. This approach, along with the authenticity and reliability of the hair transplant methods used, contributes to the impressive hair transplant results obtained in Turkey.

Unveiling the Realities of Hair Transplant in Turkey: Facts, Statistics, and Insights

Turkey has become a popular destination for individuals seeking a hair transplant. But before you book your flight, it is important to understand the realities of getting a hair transplant in Turkey.

One of the main reasons people opt for hair transplant in Turkey is the painless procedure. With advanced technologies and techniques, the procedure has been made incredibly comfortable for patients. However, it's crucial to have a hair transplant consultation before making any decisions. The consultation allows you to gather hair transplant details, understand what the procedure entails, and learn about the possible outcomes.

Hair transplant statistics indicate a high success rate in Turkey. These statistics are a reflection of the skilled specialists and advanced technologies used in these procedures. But keep in mind, every individual is unique and results can vary. That's where hair transplant counselling comes into play. Counselling helps you develop a comprehensive understanding of the procedure and manage your expectations.

The decision to undergo a hair transplant should not be taken lightly. It should be based on a thorough hair transplant understanding. This includes knowing about the procedure, the potential risks, and the expected results. To make an informed hair transplant decision, it is advisable to carry out extensive research and seek advice from experts.

Hair transplant prediction is another crucial aspect to consider. It helps you visualize the potential results and prepare for the post-procedure phase. Remember, a hair transplant is not just a physical transformation, but also a psychological one. Therefore, understanding the realities of the procedure can help ease the process.

When it comes to hair transplant facts, it's important to differentiate between myths and realities. Misconceptions can often cloud our judgment, making it essential to seek accurate information. Hair transplant perspectives vary, but the end goal is always the same - to restore confidence and enhance appearance.

Lastly, gaining hair transplant insights is a vital part of the journey. These insights can be gained from previous patients, reputable sources, and medical experts. They can shed light on the realities of a hair transplant, helping you make a well-informed decision.

In conclusion, getting a hair transplant in Turkey involves more than just booking a flight and making an appointment. It requires a deep understanding of the procedure, its outcomes, and the realities involved. By gaining insights, you can make an informed decision and embark on your hair transplant journey with confidence.

Building Trust and Transparency: The Importance of Assurance and Support in Hair Transplant Procedures in Turkey

When considering a hair transplant in Turkey, several factors come into play. It's not just about the procedure itself, but the support and assurance offered by the professionals involved. It's essential to have a hair transplant team that emphasizes trust, empathy, and commitment to ensure you feel comfortable and confident throughout the process.

Hair transplant assurance is a key factor in choosing the right provider. This assurance comes from the knowledge and expertise of the professionals involved. The more experience and understanding they have of the hair transplant process, the more assured you can feel about the outcome. This assurance is also bolstered by the transparency of the clinic, providing clear and honest information about what you can expect from the procedure.

Hair transplant support is another crucial aspect of the process. It involves the care and guidance provided throughout your hair transplant journey, from the initial consultation to the aftercare support. It's the empathy and commitment shown by the team, which can make all the difference in your overall experience. This support is integral in building a strong hair transplant trust between you and the team.

The hair transplant guarantee is an important part of the package. This guarantee shows the integrity of the provider, ensuring that they stand by their work and are committed to delivering the best possible results. This guarantee is also a reflection of the clinic's commitment to you, their patient.

Furthermore, hair transplant confidentiality is vital. Your privacy should always be respected and protected during this personal journey. A strong emphasis on confidentiality reflects the clinic's integrity and respect for their patients, further building the hair transplant trust that is so important in this process.

In conclusion, when considering a hair transplant in Turkey, look for a provider that offers assurance, support, guarantee, and emphasizes on knowledge, transparency, commitment, trust, empathy, integrity, and confidentiality. These factors together will ensure a positive experience and a successful outcome for your hair transplant journey.

Evaluating Your Hair Transplant Experience in Turkey: Suitability, Advantages, Disadvantages, and Key Considerations

Hair transplantation has become a prevalent solution for individuals facing hair loss problems worldwide. Among the many global destinations for this procedure, Turkey stands out due to its hair transplant expertise and renowned excellence in the field. This article seeks to provide an in-depth understanding of the hair transplant experience in Turkey, delving into the suitability, advantages, disadvantages, and key considerations.

Hair transplant suitability is the first aspect to consider. Not everyone is a suitable candidate for hair transplantation. Factors such as the extent of your hair loss, the availability of donor hair, and your overall health condition play a critical role in determining your suitability. Hair transplantation requires a sufficient amount of healthy hair follicles that can be moved to the balding areas. Therefore, a consultation with a professional is necessary to assess your hair transplant suitability.

When it comes to hair transplant advantages, Turkey offers a range of benefits. The country is known for its highly skilled professionals with significant hair transplant expertise. Additionally, the cost of the procedure in Turkey is more affordable compared to other countries, without compromising the quality of care and service. The country also offers a unique blend of tourism and healthcare, allowing patients to combine their medical journey with a vacation.

However, as with any medical procedure, hair transplantation also comes with its own set of disadvantages. Potential risks and complications include infection, scarring, unnatural-looking new hair growth, and the possibility that the transplanted hair doesn't grow as expected. It's essential to discuss these potential hair transplant disadvantages with your specialist to make an informed decision.

Moreover, there are several important hair transplant considerations to keep in mind. These include ensuring you have realistic expectations about the results, understanding the post-operative care requirements, and being prepared for the recovery period. You should also consider the need for potential additional sessions in the future.

Finally, achieving hair transplant excellence requires choosing the right professionals and the best possible care. Turkey's medical tourism industry is regulated by stringent standards, ensuring you receive top-quality treatment. However, it's vital to do your own research, read patient reviews, and ask the right questions to ensure your hair transplant experience in Turkey meets your expectations.

In conclusion, understanding your hair transplant experience in Turkey involves assessing your suitability, weighing the advantages and disadvantages, and considering key factors before making a decision. With the right approach, you can ensure your journey towards hair transplant excellence is a successful one.

Understanding the Costs, Benefits, Drawbacks, and Aftercare of Hair Transplants in Turkey

Hair transplants in Turkey are becoming increasingly popular due to their high success rate and affordability. However, it's essential to have a comprehensive understanding of all aspects involved including the hair transplant costs, benefits, drawbacks, aftercare, and alternatives before making a decision.

The cost of a hair transplant in Turkey can vary depending on the complexity of the procedure and the number of grafts needed. However, it is generally considered more affordable compared to other countries. Despite the cost, the benefits of hair transplantation are numerous. This technique can provide a permanent solution for those dealing with hair loss, offering them the chance to regain a full head of natural-looking hair and improve their self-confidence.

However, like any medical procedure, hair transplants also come with potential drawbacks. Some individuals might experience minor side effects such as scarring, infections, or unnatural-looking hair growth. Therefore, it's essential to understand these possibilities and discuss them with a medical professional before going ahead with the procedure.

After the hair transplant, proper aftercare is crucial to ensure the success of the procedure and minimize any potential side effects. This can include avoiding strenuous activities, following a specific hair care routine, and taking prescribed medications.

Moreover, there are also alternatives to hair transplants that one might consider. Non-surgical solutions such as medications, laser therapy, and scalp micropigmentation can also help combat hair loss. These alternatives might be a good fit for those who are not suitable candidates for a hair transplant or those who prefer a less invasive approach.

To sum up, deciding whether to undergo a hair transplant in Turkey involves considering various factors such as the costs, benefits, and potential drawbacks. It's also essential to have a clear understanding of the aftercare process and to explore all available alternatives. Through careful consideration and consultation with a medical professional, you can make an informed decision that best suits your needs and desires.

Unlocking the Potential of Hair Transplant in Turkey: A Comprehensive Look at Scalp Health, Hair Growth, and Baldness Treatment

Turkey has emerged as a leading destination for hair transplant procedures, providing solutions for a myriad of issues such as hair thinning, hair loss, and male and female pattern baldness. The country's medical practitioners are renowned for their expertise in enhancing hair density and restoring natural-looking hairlines, resulting in remarkable hair transplant results that have garnered international acclaim.

One of the critical factors that influence the outcome of a hair transplant is the health of the scalp. A healthy scalp, nourished with the right nutrients, provides an ideal environment for hair growth, making it a crucial component in achieving successful transplant results. The hair transplant procedure in Turkey focuses on ensuring the scalp is in the best possible condition to accept the transplanted hair follicles, leading to a significant increase in hair density.

Hair thinning and hair loss, common issues experienced by both men and women, can have a significant impact on self-esteem and confidence. Male pattern baldness, characterized by a receding hairline and thinning hair on the crown, is a common concern among men. On the other hand, female pattern baldness, which usually results in thinning hair across the scalp, is a common issue among women.

Hair transplant in Turkey offers an effective baldness treatment for both conditions, providing individuals with the opportunity to regain their lost hair and restore their confidence. The procedure involves transplanting healthy hair follicles to areas experiencing thinning or loss, consequently promoting new hair growth and a fuller, healthier-looking hairline.

The hair transplant results in Turkey are impressive, with a high success rate in treating both male and female pattern baldness. Patients have reported significant improvements in hair density and hairline, thus boosting their self-confidence and overall well-being.

In conclusion, the hair transplant procedure in Turkey offers a reliable solution for those grappling with hair thinning, hair loss, and pattern baldness. With a focus on scalp health and hair growth, the country continues to deliver exceptional hair transplant results, making it an ideal destination for individuals seeking to regain their hair's natural density and beauty.

Understanding the Process and Outcomes of Hair Transplant Surgery in Turkey

Hair transplant surgery has become a popular solution for people experiencing hair loss across the globe. Turkey, in particular, has become a go-to destination for this procedure due to its advanced medical techniques and experienced professionals. This article aims to provide you with a comprehensive guide on the hair transplant procedure in Turkey, from preparation to recovery and everything in between.

Before undergoing the hair transplant surgery, there's a series of steps involved in the hair transplant preparation. It is essential to have a thorough consultation with the experts to understand your hair condition and the expected outcomes. The preparation phase is crucial as it sets the ground for a successful surgical procedure and ensures that you know what to expect.

Hair transplant surgery itself involves carefully moving hair follicles from one part of the scalp (known as the 'donor site') to the balding or thinning areas (the 'recipient site'). The surgical procedure is meticulously done to ensure that the transplanted hair follicles will grow in the right direction and look as natural as possible.

Once the surgery is completed, the hair transplant recovery process begins. This phase is extremely important as it dictates the overall success of the surgery. Patients are given specific guidelines to follow to ensure that the transplanted hair follicles heal properly and start to grow. The recovery period may vary from person to person, but typically, visible growth can be observed after a few months.

Like any other medical procedure, there can be hair transplant side effects. Some common ones include swelling, numbness, itching, or infection. However, these are usually temporary and manageable with the right care and medications. It's important to remember that any medical procedure comes with potential risks and benefits, so a detailed discussion with the healthcare provider is essential prior to the procedure.

One of the most exciting parts of the entire process is seeing the hair transplant before and after results. These are often showcased to potential patients to give them an idea of what they can expect. It's important to note that results can vary depending on individual circumstances, and the full effects of the transplant may not be visible until a year after the procedure.

In conclusion, setting realistic hair transplant expectations is crucial. While this procedure can significantly improve one's appearance and confidence, it's important to consider all aspects - from preparation to recovery and potential side effects. Consulting with a professional and understanding the process thoroughly can help ensure a successful hair transplant experience in Turkey.

Post-Surgical Care and Alternatives: Essential Aspects of a Hair Transplant in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey has rapidly earned a reputation as a sought-after destination due to the high-quality services provided. But beyond the actual transplant procedure, there are several other factors that potential patients should consider. These factors include the hair transplant follow-up, post-surgical care, hair transplant advice, and the cost of hair transplant.

The hair transplant follow-up process is a crucial factor that often goes unnoticed. Once the procedure is completed, it's important to have a consistent follow-up schedule with your surgeon. This ensures that the healing process is going smoothly, and any potential issues can be swiftly addressed. Most patients are keen on viewing hair transplant reviews to get a sense of what the follow-up process looks like, and to gauge the level of post-surgical care provided.

Post-surgical care after a hair transplant is another significant aspect that potential patients must understand. This involves understanding how to take care of the transplanted area to avoid infection and ensure optimal growth of the transplanted hair. It's advisable to seek hair transplant advice from professionals to gain a comprehensive understanding of the post-surgical care process.

While hair transplant reviews provide an insight into the experiences of previous patients, they also offer a glimpse into the procedure's effectiveness. The reviews can help potential patients make an informed decision by considering the experiences of others who have undergone the same process.

As much as hair transplants are popular, there are also hair transplant alternatives that individuals can consider. These alternatives may include medications, low-level laser therapy, or even lifestyle changes. It's important to explore these alternatives, discuss them with professionals, and consider their pros and cons before deciding on a hair transplant.

Hair transplant maintenance is also a key aspect to keep in mind when considering this procedure. This involves routine care of the transplanted hair to maintain its health and appearance. Regular washing, avoiding harsh chemical treatments, and maintaining a healthy diet are all part of this maintenance process.

Lastly, the hair transplant costs are a significant factor for most individuals considering this procedure. Turkey is known for providing high-quality services at competitive prices. However, itâ€™s important to factor in all the costs involved, from the procedure to post-surgical care and follow-up visits.

In conclusion, while a hair transplant in Turkey may seem like an attractive option, it's essential to consider all these factors before making a decision. Knowledge about the procedure, post-surgical care, maintenance, and cost can help individuals make an informed decision that suits their needs and expectations.

The Pros and Cons of Undergoing Hair Transplant in Turkey: Suitability, Quality, and Expertise

Hair transplant in Turkey has gained considerable acclaim worldwide due to its high-quality services and expertise in the field. The continuous advancements and innovations have made it a popular choice among individuals seeking solutions for baldness or hair thinning issues.

One of the significant hair transplant benefits in Turkey is the superior quality offered. Equipped with state-of-the-art technology and highly skilled professionals, Turkey has been able to deliver remarkable results consistently. A successful hair transplant can provide a natural-looking, fuller hairline, significantly improving one's appearance and boosting self-confidence.

Another advantage of hair transplant in Turkey lies in its suitability for a wide range of individuals. Regardless of the cause or degree of hair loss, there are various procedures available that cater to different needs and expectations. The hair transplant expertise in Turkey is reflected in their ability to assess each case accurately and recommend the most appropriate treatment plan.

Despite the many hair transplant advantages, it's essential to be aware of the potential drawbacks as well. One of the hair transplant disadvantages might be the cost. Although it is more affordable compared to many other countries, the procedure may still be a significant investment for some individuals.

Another downside to consider is the recovery time. After a hair transplant, the recovery period can last for a couple of weeks, during which certain activities might need to be limited. It's important to factor in this downtime when considering a hair transplant.

Lastly, while the hair transplant quality in Turkey is generally high, results can vary depending on individual factors such as the extent of hair loss and overall health. Therefore, it's vital to have realistic expectations and understand that while hair transplants can significantly improve hair volume and appearance, they may not fully restore the hair to its original density.

In summary, while there are many hair transplant benefits to anticipate, it's equally important to consider the possible drawbacks. A thorough understanding of the hair transplant advantages and disadvantages will help individuals make an informed decision. The suitability of the procedure, the quality of service, and the level of expertise in Turkey make it a strong contender for those contemplating a hair transplant.

Essential Considerations for a Successful Hair Transplant in Turkey

Hair transplant in Turkey has gained worldwide recognition for its excellence in providing natural-looking results. However, just like any other medical procedure, it comes with its own set of considerations and requirements. This article aims to shed light on some of the key aspects of the hair transplant experience, tips to ensure a successful procedure, and potential complications to be cautious of.

Firstly, it's crucial to understand the requirements for a hair transplant. These primarily revolve around the health and age of the potential candidate. It's necessary to have a comprehensive health check-up to ensure that the body is capable of undergoing such a procedure. It's also crucial to have realistic expectations from the surgery, as the results largely depend on the individual's hair type, hair color, and skin color.

One of the most significant hair transplant considerations is choosing the right procedure. There are various methods available, each with their own pros and cons. It's essential to do thorough research and consult with a medical professional who can provide the best advice based on your specific needs and circumstances.

Next, let's talk about the hair transplant experience itself. The process can be quite lengthy, requiring several hours to even a day, depending on the number of hair grafts being transplanted. You can expect some degree of discomfort during the process, but most patients report that the procedure is less painful than they anticipated.

Moving forward, let's delve into some hair transplant tips that can enhance the overall success of your procedure. One crucial tip is to follow all pre and post-operative instructions diligently. This includes avoiding certain medications before surgery, not smoking or drinking alcohol for a certain period, and following a specific hair care routine after the procedure.

Despite the excellence of hair transplant procedures in Turkey, potential complications cannot be completely ruled out. These can include infection, scarring, unnatural-looking hair, and in some cases, the transplanted hair not growing as expected. However, these complications can be significantly reduced by taking the necessary hair transplant precautions, such as choosing a reputable clinic and following all post-operative care instructions.

Lastly, it's important to remember that a hair transplant, while effective, is not a cure for hair loss. It can significantly improve the appearance, but underlying conditions causing hair loss need to be addressed separately.

In conclusion, while embarking on the journey of a hair transplant in Turkey, it's essential to keep these considerations in mind. This will not only help to ensure a successful procedure but also minimize any potential complications.

#Best transplant in turkey #Hair transplant costs in turkey

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marzipanandminutiae · 10 months

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so I'm not watching The Buccaneers, because period dramas have to pass EXTENSIVE peer review before I engage with them (for my own sanity). but this showed up on my YouTube recommended:

this show is set in the 1870s. an unspecified year, and pre- vs. post-1875 does matter for fashion, but the decade in general that gave us Looks such as these:

and the best these designers could do was Lob With Headband + Frumpy Prom Dress What Does Not Fit? (even if the girl in question had short hair, at the time she would not have worn it that unstyled, especially not for evening. plus that is plenty long enough to pin back and attach a false chignon to, something common back then even if a woman DID have long hair)

apparently, based on interviews, this was a choice and not a budget thing. and like. I don't know about you guys, but I'm so damn tired of designers who make media set in eras they clearly don't even like the fashion of

congrats you made it less visually interesting. great job.

#long post #historical costuming #period drama #dress history #1870s #also love how this rich white 1870s girl has apparently gotten Ye Olde Spray Tan for the occasion #based on the bronzeness of her arms

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wistfulcynic · 11 months

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the inn is a metaphor

They are terrible at running an inn.

In the beginning.

They don’t know the first goddamn thing about the hospitality industry. Or carpentry, plumbing, invoicing, logistics. Anything, really. They know nothing.

They learn.

There’s a lot of trial, even more error. But by the first time the Revenge returns for a visit they have something. A roof that doesn’t leak. Un-rotted floorboards. Nooks and crannies free from feral beasts of any kind. Zero spiders. Twin armchairs in front of the fire and a bed just big enough for the two of them. It’s a start.

The Revenge comes bearing gifts. Wee John has knitted them some afghans and Frenchie sewed an enormous quilt, which takes pride of place on the bed. They’ve towed in another ship as well, a wreck whose timber they all pitch in to rebuild into an extension and some outbuildings. Roach helps them plant a kitchen garden and a medicinal one.

Jackie gives them business advice and contacts for her old suppliers. Lucius has a guestbook for them, with marginalia he drew himself. Some of it at least is appropriate for guests to see. The rest…

“Are you planning to have guests who’ll faint at the sight of a cock?” Lucius inquires innocently. “Because I’ll be honest with you, that seems unlikely.”

The idea of guests of any kind is still a long way off, but they’re getting there. They can envision it now, and not just as a wild fantasy they spin each other at night as they lie entwined with sweat cooling on their skin. They have actual plans, concrete ones, and a decent understanding of how to realise them.

They get to work.

Jackie’s contacts prove invaluable. Soon they have a liquor supplier, deals with local butchers, bakers, candlestick-makers, and even a reliable fisherman to give them first dibs on his haul.

(It’s not Pop-Pop.)

A few survivors of Zheng’s old crew hire on as housekeeping and kitchen staff. The soup is phenomenal. Ed learns how to make it and how to cook a fish without burning it. They have fresh-smelling towels, expertly folded. They have guest rooms, and soon they have guests.

It’s an adjustment, having new people in their space. Some of the guests are gawkers, eager for a piece of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate. They reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, namely those particular assholes. But other guests are much more pleasant. Locals looking for a bit of a mini-break, people from nearby islands wanting a getaway, even the occasional European who doesn’t know who they are.

The guests are mostly happy with their stay. There’s excellent soup and decent fish, fresh linens and great views. The walls could be a bit thicker, perhaps, for everyone’s comfort, but the hosts are always most apologetic in the morning and offer copious marmalade in exchange for good reviews.

The Revenge returns frequently, each time with some new trinkets and finery for their former co-captains. In exchange, they host bonfires on the beach with music and dancing and wine, until they all fall asleep together in a pile, so like the old days on the ship that Stede watches them in the soft light of the embers with tears in his eyes.

“All right, love?” Ed asks him. He slips an arm around Stede’s waist. Stede tugs him in until Ed’s head is nestled against his shoulder. He strokes Ed’s hair. Ed sighs and snuggles closer.

“I’m all right,” Stede says. “A bit nostalgic is all.”

“You miss it.”

“I miss the crew. I wish they could visit more often. I suppose I miss the sea, though of course it’s right there in front of us. But I’m happy, Ed. I have no regrets.”

“Really?” The whisper of doubt in Ed’s voice has Stede pulling back to look down at his dear face.

“Yes really! Do you doubt it?”

“Kind of.” Ed shrugs. “It’s easier for me, I think. I was ready to be done with it, Stede. Desperate to do anything else but be Blackbeard. But you—you had just got started. You could be out there now with the crew, pirating away. You could be famous. You could—”

“Ed Teach, you listen to me.” Stede’s got his Captain Voice on now and the sound of it has Ed’s stomach turning cartwheels, his dick leaping to attention. “I don’t care about any of that. I only wanted to be a pirate for the freedom. To escape my old life. But I have a life now that I would never want to escape. Do you know why?”

Ed shakes his head.

“Because I chose it. I chose you. I love you and I would be happy anywhere you were.” He cups Ed’s cheek in his palm and kisses his forehead, his nose, his lips. Ed moans and presses closer but Stede pulls back, just far enough to whisper, “You make Stede happy.”

They spend that night alone in the inn, no guests, far enough from the beach that when they serve breakfast to the crew the next morning not a single smirk or smart remark is sent their way.

They wave goodbye to their friends that evening and stand together on their porch to watch the ship sail off into the sunset. Stede turns to Ed with a smile. “New guests checking in tomorrow,” he says. “We should probably fix the creak in the door hinge of Room 1.”

“I’ll do it,” says Ed, “if you polish the candlesticks. Fuckin’ polish makes my nose itch.”

“Deal,” says Stede. He turns to head inside. “What’ll we have for dinner?”

“Got a nice turbot we could roast.”

“Ooh, fab.”

The inn’s front door closes behind them.

It’s still a bit rickety, their inn. It’s old, it creaks, it springs leaks from time to time. It’s hard work, keeping it going. But they are devoted to the task. Whatever it takes, they will see their inn thrive.

It’s what makes them happy.

#blackbonnet #blackbonnet fanfic #gentlebeard #gentlebeard fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #our flag means death #post season two #profdanglais

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 9 months

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Yves (yandere oc)

Tw: stalking, infantilization, obsessive behavior, reader cheating on yves hypothetically, gore

enjouy

Yves is a man who knows how to take care of himself well. Adorning expensive scents, maintaining his hygiene, and diligently attending his regular self-pampering saloon, manicure, and facial treatments. His skin is porcelain, supple, and free of any imperfections. His hair is full, lush, shiny, pitch-dark; soft, and smooth.

He is a man who values the importance of physical fitness, strength, and the sculpting of the body, daily exercise in his modest yet sophisticated home gym is a must. Though he also understands the essence of moderation in training, he has a towering stature with a lean, muscular frame; no one in the right state of mind would ever call him frail or weak. But no one would accuse him of taking performance-enhancing drugs either.

His fashion and mannerisms exude class and elegance. His aesthetic and tastes are nothing to scoff at, very few could meet his standards. Even if they could, it would be close to improbability to keep up.

He presents his best image of himself to the world every day without missing a beat. There is no such thing as 'sloppy' in his vocabulary. All things are done with such precision and care, his rouge immaculately lining his sultry lips. A dusting of bronze eyeshadow accentuated his emerald irises and sensual yet steely, calculating gaze. Clad in quality clothes that usually cover him from the neck down, he moves fluidly with them with such grace; as if it was his second skin. Yves dislikes having anything loud and overwhelming on him, his palettes are of black, white, greys, and neutrals. He does not like to stand out. But he will; in a room filled with commoners. As he seems ethereal.

His money matches his spoiled lifestyle. It is unknown what he does for a living, but what he brings in a night, is more than what a normal, middle-class worker earns in a decade. Yves prefers not to discuss about his line of work, however, all you need to know is that he works remotely; and his hours are extremely flexible. There are times, rare, but possible, that he has to physically travel to someplace. He would be away for days and come back as pristine as ever. However, to the trained eye, he comes back exhausted, irritated, and freshly scarred. Perhaps that is why he loves to conceal. He does it so well.

He loves so obsessively, so consumingly; and he hides it well. Yves notices each and every minute detail about you. From the number of breaths you take when you're calm versus in an agitated state, to the fidgeting between your index finger and thumb behind your back. All of it means something, and goodness, does it help to accurately predict your next move.

Without a doubt, he knows you more than anyone. Even yourself. You don't come even close to the knowledge he gathered on you. He would know what you're feeling before you even realize it. The body works faster than the brain, and the mind gives up before the body, as they say. He observes and appreciates what no one sees or deems important. You are under his constant scrutiny with or without your awareness. Yves knows what you like, he knows what you hate. He knows what you will like; he knows what you will hate; and he is never wrong. Not ever.

Drives upon digital drives of data are stored within his office, graphical statistics, images, annotations, hypotheses, diagrams, conclusions, and many more, of one study subject: You. Not all of them were stored in hardware. Yves has a library, bookshelves upon bookshelves of research-level papers in monstrously thick paper binders with him the sole author. There is a section where his information vault is full of academic papers related to you and your behavior, where he could appropriately draw conclusions and compare his findings with others.

His collection spanned over years, decades, even. He studies you intensively and he enjoys it. He reviews the extensive hoard of dossiers on you to keep his mind sharp, and memory fresh. All while you go on living your life normally, without suspecting something is awry. Everything you do is data. Precious data.

Yves knows what you want at any given moment and your words or awareness aren't necessary.

He orchestrated the ideal meeting sequence. Whether that be a meet-cute at the local cafe, a charming first encounter by picking your fallen papers after you 'accidentally' crashed into him, a flirty exchange that escalated into something more at a lonely bar, having his attractive dating profile appear on your monitor screen, being paired up as a classmate or colleague for a project, being your saving grace from an abusive home or partner, being your "blind" date your friend set you up with, as the religious, alluring man that takes your attention away from the lord at churches, the man who offered his umbrella when you're stuck in the rain, maybe even just starting off with innocent small talk in the elevator that leads to months of brief chatter, but no progress; all of it has one common denominator: it is specially tailored for you and no one else.

And you will inevitably fall for him. Yves knows you but you don't know him. He knows what gets you excited, flustered, giddy, and hot under the collar. Most importantly: he is patient. Like a predator stalking its' prey, his patience knows no bounds. He will not slip up and make a silly mistake because he wants you so badly. He absolutely does, but he is a man of discipline. Yves achieved full control over himself, and that is what made him so menacing. No human has ever done so except him.

Perhaps, you might be suspicious of him. You're pleasantly surprised when he dims the lights that have been irritating you for a while without you saying anything. Then, it happens again; Yves hands you a refreshing bottle of your favorite drink as you're starting to feel thirsty and lethargic. And again; he politely dismissed your friends when you're silently starting to feel sick of socially interacting with others. And again; You're cranky because you received an itchy or painful rash, maybe you live near stagnant water, and mosquitos are common. Yves would almost instantly relieve that by wordlessly applying a special ointment on your skin. He knows what to do.

And again; You're craving seafood, maybe. Then, tonight's date is at an exquisite restaurant that serves only the finest salmon, crabs, lobsters, and whatever else you might want. Lucky guess? And again; he toggles the control panel for the air conditioning unit to cool the room further. You then just realized you're starting to feel a bit too warm for comfort, but you haven't even broken a sweat yet, how did he know? This cannot be a coincidence.

It's delightful, not needing to ask. Not needing to demand or beg someone to make your life easier for you. Having a second 'you' doing the things necessary to keep you comfortable and happy. Having someone to read your mind.

But, then again. Someone is reading your mind. It can make one feel naked and vulnerable. As if, you can't even have the privacy of your own thoughts anymore. All that is visible and invisible is broadcast for everyone to witness. If you're the type to overthink, this could induce some sort of paranoia.

Bold of you to assume that Yves hasn't accounted for that yet.

If his calm, no-nonsense demeanor, reassuring smile, and gentle gaze aren't enough to lull you into a false sense of security; maybe his quiet, baritone, seductive voice with a charismatic coupling of a posh European accent would do the trick? It is quite possible that still wouldn't be able to soothe your nerves. No matter what, Yves always has something under his sleeve to overcome every obstacle in his way.

His body language is outstandingly alluring. He utilizes his looks and his hair, you might catch him leaning forward and playfully twirling a lock of his hair around his slender fingers. He appears to be tremendously interested in you and enamored by you. If that is what you like. Otherwise, he would keep his composure. Have a faint smile on his lips as his eyes are trained on you. Nodding at appropriate times.

Yves has exemplary table manners and etiquette, and his posture is confident and tall. He prefers to listen; of course, he does, as he rests his hands on his knee; his legs are delicately crossed and still. Best be careful of what you say and when you say it; And how you say it. He always remembers.

Yves takes care of you much, much more than he takes care of himself. He is already a marvelous chef with indeterminate years of experience but for certain, more than a decade. Cooking healthy and delicious meals for you and himself. He actually prefers to cook instead of going out, he knows your portions and the nutrients your body truly needs to feel satiated. He knows how you like your eggs done or if you even like eggs at all. He is an expert in making dishes tasty and simultaneously fitting your dietary needs and, or restrictions.

It's only fitting that he lives in a richer neighborhood. However, he isn't swayed by flashy displays of wealth in the form of purchasing mansions, luxury cars, and yachts. Yves owns a modest two-story house with a modern finish. As modest as a billionaire could be. However, it is small enough for Yves to be successful in maintaining the cleanliness and the state of the building himself. He has no hired help, unlike his neighbors. He is responsible for scrubbing the entire house from top to bottom every week. He is responsible for keeping his lawn trimmed and even. All of that, he still has ample time to accompany you everywhere you want him to be, keep up with his self-grooming rituals, and conduct his extensive research. It's almost as if Yves has 72 hours a day instead of the regular 24.

His humble abode follows a modern gothic aesthetic. Dark yet soothing. Unfortunately, he has a very strict set of rules as to how his home should appear to him, you, and others. Fussy about the choice of curtains, floorings, flooring, bathroom towels, and even the cutlery available in the kitchen; he would politely express his displeasure if you were to tamper with anything without his approval. However, he will provide a large room for you to express yourself, Yves will be more than happy to provide whatever you require to make your designated room purely yours.

Although he finds delight in serving your (almost) every verbal or silent request, he isn't spineless. Disrespect and rudeness are unacceptable, he will not entertain you if you're treating him as subhuman. Yves made sure you understand that he is deserving of esteem and dignity as well. He does that by calmly but firmly explaining that he does indeed love you and would do anything to make you happy. But he will not accept unnecessary callousness from you. Hence, it is not at all advisable to take your frustrations out on him.

"I understand you're upset that this happened. I have your best interests at heart, I have been nothing but compassionate to you. Please, do not act cruel towards me." That is what he would have said in such events. His scolding glare, stern body language, and muted yet assertive tone are usually enough to snap anyone out of their anger, retract their hurtful words, and hang their head in shame as they mutter an apology.

Yves will relax, soften his gaze, and fully demonstrate his appreciation for your remorse. The reward for your desired behavior is dependent on your files. It could be as simple as a forehead kiss, or it could be a platter of intricately cut fruits. Regardless, his main priority will always be solving your problems and making you the happiest version of yourself.

Perhaps, to a select few, you're undeterred by him calling you out. Maybe you would amp up your mistreatment towards him. No matter, he knows what to do. He is the master of bending reality by meticulously carrying out his convoluted plans. He could orchestrate the perfect circumstance without you ever suspecting he has any involvement in it, and it will influence you to change your ways, to be kinder towards him. Rest assured, he will never mirror your actions, as he believes it's unnecessary and horrible to treat the love of his life that way.

You could have tried to beat him into a pulp out of the blue and he would have never thought of doing that back. Of course, he will appropriately defend himself and obviously, you will not listen to reason. So he stays eerily silent as he blocks all your hits or restrain your wrists enough to protect himself, but not enough to hurt you. Or he simply walks away. Again, depending on the situation and your personality. Are you going to cause yourself harm? Or will your tantrum stop when he pays no mind and it's all for show?

Could it be that you're having a meltdown out of overwhelm instead? Quite unlikely, Yves would have swiftly eliminated all the factors that can cause a mental or physical overload before it happens. Nonetheless, Yves is not an omnipotent, omnipresent god (but he is close to being one) and you, as a human, are facing constant changes. That is why he has to update his database often for any new observations and review past records regularly.

On the topic of keeping records, his collection indeed includes your medical history. Even that unknown to the hospitals. The number of scrapes and cuts you have gotten, even paper cuts, the time and date you received that minor injury, and how long it takes to heal. Your genome sequence and many reports on your probability of developing certain diseases. Your dental records, your blood work archives, any and every radiological image taken of your being, your prescription details, vaccination history or lack thereof, and many more.

Yves could recite the values on a blood test you took a decade ago by heart. He would accurately and nonchalantly describe the figures on that sheet of paper. As if he was reciting the alphabet.

He will undeniably be the first person to notice that you're falling ill or close to catching a cold. You might think he has a 6th sense that detects your sickness before any symptoms start to arise. But his sharp eyes, nose, ears, and mind already picked up on all the signs that doctors will miss.

You could be his little prince or princess while you're unwell. He would be at your beck and call with no complaints. Yves would fix up a hearty meal, spoon-feed you, and stay up all night comforting you to sleep. He has no problem if you get any mucus, vomit, or other bodily fluids on him. He will settle your situation first, valuing your dignity and feelings of utmost importance before cleaning himself up.

Or, maybe you feel pathetic. Maybe you would very much prefer to continue working or studying and going about with your day. You don't like the feeling of being pitied or pampered just because you're sick. You don't like having your autonomy taken over just because you're temporarily weakened; or permanently disabled. Yves understands that.

Yves allows you to have your cake and eat it too. You may think that he's not watching or caring because he isn't around you. But he always is; and to a certain degree, you knew that. He made sure of it. Yves is always a couple seconds away from helping you. Though, you wouldn't know that a lot of the time, you're living a lie.

The thesis that you're slaving over for months despite your chronic illnesses, sacrificing a few years off your lifespan, you got an outstanding award for it. But your actual thesis is in Yves library; it was abysmal. You would have definitely failed if he hadn't intercepted the network and swapped the file with a wonderfully written one instead. Written by the man himself after he spent as much time studying about your course as you in secret.

It's a miracle you passed your final exams even though all you did in the past month was break down into a messy puddle of tears. Nothing a bit of hush money between your lecturer and your significant other couldn't fix.

The balance sheet that you're supposed to submit to your higher-ups. That would have landed you in jail at worst and fired at best. You did it while you were severely sleep deprived and the numbers were all wrong and there were many missing figures that Yves had to locate. If you pay attention, the red pens in his pencil holder are almost out of ink.

You would have poisoned your customers if he didn't buy the entire ruined batch of bread from your bakery. All this while, you thought Yves was an event manager who chose your business as catering.

You would have killed hundreds of passengers if he didn't sneak into the hangar and tightened that one bolt you missed. Either due to carelessness or otherwise.

He does a very convincing job impersonating a respected doctor at the hospital you work in. He forged the signature as an imposter, legally implying that "he" was the one who administered 100 times the appropriate dosage of insulin. You, as a nurse, mistook 1 unit of insulin for 1 ml. The doctor takes the fall and you get off scot-free. Maybe a bit shaken because you know the truth. At least you will be a lot more careful next time.

You're lucky he is also an expert in all things coding. Yves needs a glasses prescription change after staring at his computer monitor for so long to wipe out the bugs, faulty lines of code, and vulnerabilities. If you were to publish this for the massive corporation that you're working with, lawsuits would come flying right at you like darts.

Yves is constantly cleaning up after you without your awareness. Yet you still get all the praise and recognition for it. He is very content with that.

Yves rarely faces any ailments of his own. As reiterated over and over again, he takes care of himself better than most of the world takes care of their children; and his genes are almost invincible. However, as he is still human (even that may sometimes be debatable), he will succumb to an absurdly powerful virus and develop the flu. But you wouldn't know aside from his increased hand washing and his unusual choice to wear two surgical masks around you. He is still carrying himself with grace, fluidity, and with the energy of a healthy, young man.

If the illness is particularly contagious and he knows that it could put a severe toll on your body if you catch it, he will isolate himself and hire someone competent to take care of you from behind the scenes, out of your sight. He worries for you.

There are very few people whom he would trust. He has no family that you know of, he never speaks about his friends; only his associates. Even if you're the most insecure person in the world, only in Yves will you feel secure. He seems to devote all his time to you and more. He is a self-sufficient man who built everything he has from the ground up. It seems unfair that he knows you like he lived in your body twice, yet his last name is unknown to you. Yves said that he does not own a surname, it's a bit hard to believe him but what else could you do? You're not the one with the magnifying glass, he is.

He is a very private person. He does indulge you with information about himself from time to time. Like how he enjoys caviar on toast points, how he prefers buying high quality bags and clothes with discrete logos from obscure yet lavish designers and companies; he is fond of its' meticulous craftmanship and durability. He plays the grand piano and the harp, as evidenced by the presence of a grand piano and a harp in his designated music room; things that you would expect him to like or dislike based on the stereotypes of rich people.

You already made assumptions that he spoke English and French, based on his name and accent. Which was accurate. What came to you as a surprise is that he also spoken fluent Mandarin and Cantonese over the phone before. You were watching a cooking video one day on your smartphone, there was a voice over in Russian. Yves gently rubbed your shoulder to announce his presence before handing you your glass of water. It was a shock to know that he could translate the whole thing effortlessly to English. He even offered to make the food shown for you.

It puzzled you to no end when you caught him leisurely reading a set of papers printed in Hindi Devanagari. He was sipping on his steaming cup of black tea, not needing an ounce of effort to get through the jargon. He told you that he is reading a published journal article about Ayurvedic medicine.

You asked him what other languages he speaks. "الانتظار لمعرفة." He said with a playful wink, he pushes his reading glasses back up. Yves offered you to sit on his lap while he reads his article. You may or may not have accepted the offer, he is fine either way.

He is prone to touching you. Nothing malicious in nature, Yves would always have an arm around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, locking his large, warm and soft hands with yours, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, running your fingers through your locks if you have any, hooking his pinkie fingers with yours and many more. He knows your limits and backs off accordingly, he noted when is the best time and circumstance to give you physical affection if you're the type to like the surprise.

Otherwise, he would whisper if he could give you a kiss on the cheek, forehead and the lips, or a hug. Asking for permission not too frequently and at the appropriate time. You can feel his love is lingering and undying whenever he holds you close to his chest.

Yves doesn't believe in keeping you all to himself, locking you up in a glided cage and clipping your wings. Because your happiness and health is his main priority in life and he is intelligent enough to understand that you need others to fill in roles that he may not be able to fill. Yes, you're allowed to have friends. Yes, you should visit your family, he will come with. Yes, the ones that you love aside from him are welcome into his home. Within limits.

He is, in most aspects of his life: polite, but distant to your friends and family. Yves has a separate database for all of them them somewhere in his shelves for security reasons- to keep them in check and nip any threat at the bud, but they're plainly not as vast as yours. You better hope none of them annoy him, he has access to their private messages, call logs and emails. To his disgust, a lot of them has their own infidelities to hide.

If you have decent parents who were there for most of your life, you would be astonished to see Yves speaking to them so warmly. As if he cares about their existence. His eyes pupils will be dilated as he takes in as much information as possible. It's unnerving, even you had the vibe that this relationship between him and your parents is that of researchers and lab rats.

Yves recognizes that your parents or guardians are a treasure trove of information revolving around you. Now, he understands that their memories of you may not be the most reliable, but the data is still as precious. The knowledge that your friends have of you is useless, as Yves already possesses a more accurate and objective version of it. But information from the people who raised you or taught you (I.e., teachers), he may not have them in his logs yet.

What did you like as a child? What were you like as a child? Any strange fixations you had that could better explain some of your behaviors and preferences now? Any verbal tics? If so, when did it occur? What were your "bad behaviors" and were they a reaction to unpleasant stimuli? What did you tell them about your schooling life? How much did you tell them about your life? What were the values passed down from their generation to yours? When you were a toddler, did they notice what made you cry the most? Who made you cry the most? What media did you consume, cartoons? Live action? Specifically, which ones? How did you punish bad behavior, any lasting effect on your innate reflexes? Any repetitive habits? Where did you look when spoken to, straight into the eyes, away from the eyes, downcast, or past the speaker entirely? Did you prefer your nails long or cut? Did you fit in? Did you enjoy playing 'house' with the other children? Or did you prefer to play alone? The list is not exhaustive.

The barrage of questions was carefully worded and strategically sprinkled into the conversation. His social intellect is unmatched, he could easily obtain the necessary voice recordings in three meetings without your parents feeling overwhelmed or perturbed. With his unbelievable charm, your parents instantly fell in love with him too, thinking that he's the best fit for an attentive, loving, and dependable partner.

It doesn't matter if your parents were conservatives who may be offended by how he presents himself with modest makeup as an androgynous man. No one can deny that he looks stunning in every angle. He will win them over without compromising on his identity too much. Knowledge is power and Yves is the most powerful one out there.

You might or might not find it strange that he defies the common trope of hating his in-laws. Yves gets along with your parents well, maybe a bit too well. There is an 'off' aura to each interaction; he also makes a beeline to his office when he gets back home, claiming that he was contacted for work.

Obviously, he was transcribing what was recorded and organizing them, to improve his predictive algorithm.

One thing that you may be worried about, would he secretly judge you for liking this one thing, for doing a particular activity your own special way, and disliking something he likes? No. Yves is humble, who is he to pass judgment? He is lucid enough to know that he's not at all normal. Nothing about you irks him, data is data. You may have dated before him. Maybe during with him. But he remains neutral, it just means some hypotheses are either proven or disproven. Does that mean he will not get jealous? No, he can turn into a green-eyed monster of envy. However, he has full control over all aspects of his life, even his feelings. It may not be easy, but he is fully capable.

He does consider cheating as a major betrayal and disrespect, as he ensures that the both of you had the talk, discussing what is considered acceptable and what isn't. But he never let his emotions take him over. Yves remains cold and calculating as ever. Depending on your personality, he could either confront you and come to a compromise- and update your records, or he could simply eradicate the nuisance- and update your records. Yves is a strong believer that your actions were bad, but it does not mean that you are a bad person, And you could grow from it. He words his thoughts very carefully here, guaranteeing that he doesn't label your entire being as evil. Your actions are separate from your inherent value.

Everything he does is according to your nature and what works most effectively. His goal is never to punish you for wrongdoing, it's always to love you unconditionally while advocating for himself.

Even if he has tears rolling down his cheeks upon setting sights on the surveillance camera footage that confirms your adultery.

He would be badly hurt, the pain searing through every unit of life in his body. However, Yves would still love you the same and care for you to the best of his abilities. He just needs you to understand that it is not acceptable.

If it takes brutally dismembering your lover in front of you to teach you that lesson, so be it. Let the filth smear his expensive clothes. Let the blood paint his lips even redder. Let his tears wash the smear of viscera away from his face.

Your screams will be data to him. Your hyperventilation, heart rate, and blood pressure shall be the baseline wherein you're experiencing an extremely traumatic event. It will improve his prediction.

When that's all done and over with, he will assess the situation. Have you learned anything? Do you feel regret or remorse? Will you do it again? Will you break his faith once more by outing his crimes to the public?

Once Yves is satisfied with the outcome, he will give you a tight, comforting hug. Thanking you for enduring that and appreciating your genuine apologies. This is only if he is absolutely sure he achieved what he wanted.

But thankfully, that is unlikely to happen. As you wouldn't cheat, correct? You know better. You know very well that isn't a good idea to cheat on your personal mind reader.

As long as you're kind, in line, and faithful, you will have a wonderful, fulfilling life with Yves. All the ugly, unsightly parts of him will remain hidden in the shadows. He will conceal his eyes, giving you that sense of normalcy in day-to-day life while monitoring your every step and breath. Like a magic trick, the magic lies in not knowing how the trick works.

But unlike knowing the ruses of a magic trick, you will be horrified to learn about Yves's clandestine machinations.

Don't ruin a good thing for yourself.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #tw gore #tw blood #tw yandere #tw infantilization #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #tw reader cheating #oc yves

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beauty-by-tyy · 2 years

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JulyQueen of Amazon Skunk Stripe Bob Wig Unboxing & Review

In this video I will be unboxing and reviewing a Skink Stripe unit that was sent to me from the JulyQueen Store of Amazon.

If you are looking for a new do and want to check out, what I’m putting down, watch this video.

***

Contact email: [email protected]

***

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JulyQueen of Amazon Skunk Stripe Bob Wig Unboxing & Review: https://youtu.be/echM1mqxr2I

It’s Almost Christmas Again (ft. DDSNNT Store of Amazon Wig) Unboxing & Review: https://youtu.be/ZfYt8sLkJA4

Products used for this video:

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Material: Synthetic Wig

Length: 12”

Texture: Straight

Hair Color: Black/Pink/Blue

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@Elfcosmetics Poreless Face Primer Shade: Clear

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roseinyoursaltwater · 1 month

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Aphmau characters most likely to…

Aaron: most likely to have an extensive vinyl collection that is organized so thoroughly to the point no one else can touch it.

Aphmau: most likely to get a meal she didn’t order at a restaurant but will suffer through eating it out of fear of seeming rude to the waiter.

Dante: most likely to get catfished on tinder and would tell his friends he actually met a really hot girl and that it’s the best date he’s been on in years but when his friends start questioning him about seeing her again, he would lie and say she moved or got a boyfriend

Garroth: most likely to get lost a concert venue or stadium and would have to stand with a security guard or employee like a lost child while holding his merchandise waiting for his friends.

Katelyn: most likely to pay in cash everywhere and will complain to her friends everytime they go a cashless attraction or business.

Laurance: most likely to leave a yelp review because he over analyzes his food before eating it or he notices a small health code violation and his fingers are typing away.

Lucinda: most likely to take a mental health day but in all reality she’s getting her hair and brows done, nails done, filler, a wax and spending $500 shopping and getting a Starbucks drink or two.

Nana: most likely to getin a Stan war on Twitter and then get paranoid she’s going to get doxxed and then work up the girls about getting doxxed all for it to blow over two days later and then happen again a month or so later.

Travis: most likely to foster an animal and then try convincing the others they should keep said animal. (This happens every month and it’s hapepened with at least 20 animals)

Vylad: most likely to mention the most random-trauma-inducing-toe-curling-illegal lore to ever be mentioned and it would be mentioned over a nice family dinner which would kill on conversation and create dead air.

Zane: most likely to bond with a middle aged woman in any public setting like would msot deifntely become friends with 45 year old Jen who lives in the suburbs with three kids and a car salesmen husband. They would go brunch or gossip even though they’re total opposites.

#aphmau #aphblr #mystreet #aphmau mystreet

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brighter-by-the-daly · 5 months

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Rachel Daly x Reader

Distracted

AN: A follow on fic to my original RD x R series - a look at where the couple is now. (If you want timeline consistency, just imagine that last years FA Cup run was this years).

Feeling a pair of arms wrap around your neck from behind you leant down to rest your cheek on the soft dressing gown being worn by your fiancée. “Come to bed baby” whispered into your ear as kisses were placed on your cheek. “I’ve gotta finish this before midnight” you sounded exhausted, “I can’t believe I forgot about this review, I’m so sorry” you whimpered, longing for forgiveness that you weren’t joining Rachel in bed tonight. Plopping herself on your lap to block your vision and forcing your eyes to look away from the gleaming screen of your laptop, she asked how much more you had left to do. “Too much” you whined, wrapping your arms around her stomach and resting your head in her chest, “if I stop now , I won’t be able to start again” mumbling into her dressing gown, reluctant to let go of her. “Can I help?” she asked optimistically, like she had any idea what your report was on, she just wanted to feel useful; her fingers slowly stroked through your hair, untangling the knots as she went, “you already are” lifting your sleepy but hopeful head for kisses. “I’ll put the kettle on” she said and made her way to the kitchen, “can’t you ask for an extension?” she suggested while dropping teabags into mugs. “This is the extension” you began whining again, placing your head in your hands. Life had been so crazy lately that you forgot that you actually had a job to get back to! Working from home isn’t working for you as there are so many distractions - you found yourself choosing to watch Rachel’s games or hang out with her and her teammates instead of doing your work. It was a much more exciting prospect than paperwork but now you’re so far behind. Rachel placed a cup of tea in front of you and sat herself on the chair opposite, “babe you need to sleep, you have a big game tomorrow” looking up at her with adoring eyes. Thankful that she was here with you but knowing she’ll regret the late night in the morning. “I’m not going without you!” she said folding her arms staging a protest. “That’s not fair” you pouted, she knew how much you’d rather be doing anything other than this but you couldn’t afford to lose this job. “Life’s not fair” she smiled angelically. “If I want to go to your game tomorrow I need to get this done now. I can hyperfocus on this and get it done in an hour, pleeease go to bed” you begged. “If you’re not up in an hour, I’m coming to get you” was her final offer, you smiled and nodded as she leant in for a kiss, holding out her pinky to promise her then shuffled back up the stairs to bed.

You managed to smash out the review and finally crawled into bed with 5 minutes to spare, you tried to creep into the bedroom quietly but Rachel felt the dip in the mattress as you sunk into bed and rolled over to snuggle into you, it didn’t take you long to fall asleep when the love of your life was wrapped around you.

Starting to stir awake when you heard your girl showering you kept your eyes closed to desperately cling onto the extra few minutes of sleep. Feeling the puff of clean, warm air burst out of the ensuite when she opened the door made your eyes squint open to see if she had got dressed in the bathroom or was still wrapped in a towel that doesn’t quite cover everything. Your first sight of the morning being your future wife in her sporty lingerie looking for clothes in the wardrobe. “Well, that’s a nice view to wake up to” you admired, sitting up in bed to get a better look at her. Turning around as she pulled on her joggers she smiled cheekily at you then nodded at the bedside table, “there’s a tea there for you.” Turning to look at the freshly brewed cuppa and sighed, “you are so perfect” you said gazing back at her. You loved Rach in her joggers, probably more than when she’s all dressed up so when she launched herself onto the bed announcing you have an hour to get ready you couldn’t help but try your luck. “Enough time to turn you on then” smirking as you climbed on top of her and slid your hand into her pants. Rachel laid there with her tattooed arms behind her head receiving cockily until she was done and you jumped off, “hey, what about you?” she pined, reaching over to try and grab the little clothing you were wearing. “You can make it up to me later” you winked as you undressed to get in the shower. “But you forgot your...” the bathroom door shut behind you, “tea”, Rachel rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to let it go to waste she drank it herself before packing a bag for you while you got ready to leave.

“Aren’t you missing something?” she said watching you slip your trainers on, she hated how you never undo the laces. Standing up straight after forcing your feet into the shoes you looked puzzled, “errr, my shirt?” her eyes opened wider with a little shake of her head like ‘helloooo, are are you dumb?’. “Do I really have to wear it every game?” you sighed, looking at her holding the shirt out to you and already knowing the answer. “I like knowing you’re there wearing my name” she pouted, knowing you can never resist her exaggerated sad little face. “I know, but does it really matter?” you pushed back, “yes! You know what I’m like for my superstitions!” trying her puppy dog eyes once more. “Fineee” you laughed and pulled her shirt over your head. “You’re so needy!” shoving her lightly in a playful way, “and what?” she retorted, squaring up to you. Taking her wrist and kissing her tattoo of your initials, “I suppose it’s the least I can do when I’m on you permanently” backing down and letting her win, you were never gonna not wear it anyway! Rachel hummed in agreement, her lips vibrating against yours as she kissed you lightly which turned into something much more passionate.

Tumbling into the car together you swung through Costa for tea and coffee seeing as you didn’t drink yours earlier, then headed for Villa Park where the girls were playing their FA Cup quarter final game against Man City today. During the drive Rachel threw around the idea of moving closer to your work and family, originally you objected as that would affect her commute to work and said you’ll figure something out but Rachel insisted. She said it was only fair if we wanted the relationship to work out and started listing off places that are in the middle of both of your bases. Rachel tried her best to sell her ideas to you during the drive, you were starting to come around to the idea of owning your own home and living together in a place that wasn’t just hers. At the moment you are so far away from your family and friends that it makes you feel guilty for not seeing them as often as you used to. Your whole world has become Rachel and although it’s been fun, it’s not sustainable for the future.

Arriving at the stadium, the atmosphere felt electrifying as the crowd shuffled in to fill seats, you said goodbye and good luck to your future wife and went to sit with the other partners of players. This was one of the biggest crowds you had seen show up for Villa and the excitement was contagious. Watching the team take their places, Rachel looked determined and focused as she prepared for kick off, you couldn't help but feel proud of her and crossed your fingers for a win. Watching the game unfold, your mind wandered to the conversation you had in the car about moving closer to your work and family. The idea of owning a home together and creating a life that was a blend of both your worlds started to feel more appealing. You realized that while your relationship with Rachel had been amazing, it was important to find a balance that worked for both of you in the long run.

After a thrilling match that ended in a victory for the underdogs, Rachel climbed into the stands to celebrate with high-fives for the crowd and tightly squeezed hugs for you. Beating Man City was a huge feat for the team, everyone was on cloud 9 and who was to thank for winning? None other than your girl who scored the winner in the 96th minute! As you walked back to the car, Rachel took your hand and looked at you with a soft smile, "I think we can make it work, you know," she said, squeezing your hand gently. "I want us to have a home where we both feel connected and close to the things that matter to us." You nodded, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility for the future. As you drove back home, you couldn't help but imagine the adventures and memories you would create together in your own place, where both of you could thrive and grow. As the sun began to set over the horizon it cast a warm glow over the road in front of you, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your lives, filled with love, support, and endless possibilities.

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