#detils

[22032]

#Repost @katharina.spielmann

matching your nails to your accessories >> 🪩🪩 #nailinspo #fallnails #chromenails

[nothingbizzare]

Sillies skating

Based on this

[mymarifae]

not over this card. like holy fuck

[pawuk-papuga]

ellnut arakis

they/it

[falcon-cardetaling]

• Long-lasting protection

• Enhanced gloss and shine

• Easier cleaning and maintenance

• Resistance to harsh weather conditions

Transform your car with a durable shield that keeps it spotless and stunning!

#CeramicCoating#FalconCarDetailing#CarCare#ShinyCar#AutoDetailing#ProtectYourRide#CarLove#GlossyFinish

[singwhenyoucantspeak]

ok but why did all her daughter's friends meet up at her house just for her to drive then to the dad's house? why not have them all just meet at the dad's house?

[jakkkuu]

JAKKUU CONCEPT STORE - MAGNOLIA PROMENADE REBULD COLLECTION PART .007

1 FLOOR INTERIORS

2 FLOOR INTERIORS

FLOOR PLAN OVERVIEW

Part .007 of .007

Still need to finished some details in this project so I will be need more time to share this build with You all. I decided to add one bonus space to this 7 parts project.

More detiles soon..

JakkuuSim

[surat-pendek]

Begitulah luka bekerja—tak sekadar datang dan pergi. Segalanya terasa diam, membekukan waktu di momen yang paling menyakitkan. Detil-detil kecil yang baginya tak berarti,

"duh, maaf, aku lupa"

"aku ketiduran"

"males, lain kali aja"

tertanam dalam ingatanku seperti goresan yang tak bisa hilang. Dia mungkin tak lagi mengingat kata-kata terakhirnya, tapi aku masih mengingat semuanya, satu per satu.

Andira Wu

[starwarspossum]

Sasha headcanons drop? really? with illustration? wow

so Sashalore:

I tell it to person who don`t know SW so there is a lot of small detiles you know

Kallus was most likely born on the lower levels of Coruscant – not a very pleasant place to be born, to be honest. Imagine something like the local equivalent of Kupchino or Murino, but buried under a hundred or more levels of the city-planet.

Most likely, the family he was born into was far from rich or even particularly well-off. The story is pretty classic – his mother remarried a man who, in the first months or year of the Clone Wars, became disabled and could no longer continue fighting. So this stepfather, with chronic pain and PTSD, started (or continued) drinking and beating the family (and if you’re curious about why there are such straight white scars on Callus' back, well, it’s better not to ask).

Kallus had a dream of escaping that place, and although when he was very young it was limited to thoughts of "I’ll run away," but as he grew older, a better option presented itself. Since the Clone Wars were ongoing, despite the Republic's army being mostly made up of clones, they couldn’t supply the entire army with them (I guess). Therefore, regular humans were needed, and propaganda probably encouraged people to join the army or military schools to "protect democracy." When you think about it, joining a military academy is a better option than running to nowhere – and it was a clear, understandable social lift, and most importantly, stability, which little Kallus never had in his life. So, between his father’s alcohol binges, his mother’s breakdowns, police calls, and all sorts of other family issues, he found an old holopad and started studying everything to make sure he wouldn’t fail the entrance exams.

And it worked! Because he’s stubborn and smart. He literally gave himself entirely to his studies, at first because the military academy was the only place where he had a bed (always dry, warm, and comfortable), where he was always fed (three times a day at certain times), and where everything was simple, clear, and safe. Then, as he progressed in his studies, he developed a more defined goal – Alex didn’t want others to suffer as he had. He wanted to bring peace and order to others.

[signanothername]

Your comices always make me feel so many things, it's really ashame that I can not put them into the right words, just to show you how must yuor creations mean to me So let me just say thank you, I am sure that I already said that before, and that I will do so in the future, but really, thank you for makeing all this and shareing it with us I love how every comic is linked to each other, making a big story out of so many smol ones, I love the relationships between the characters, how they grow thru every one of the comices and how many detiles you put into the comices! You are a great artist, and really thank you for creating all this Only thing that I struggle with, is the fact that it's sometimes hart to read what the characters say 'cuz some letters marge into another or are so smol esgbdsgafdbagdfagfd

HSHSHHSHSH OOOH MY DAMN HEART THANK YOUUUUU 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️🌷🌷🌷✨✨✨✨✨

I genuinely am happy to know you love the work i do, i try my best when it comes to my stories and seeing people connect with them and the way i write my fave characters genuinely makes me really happy <33333333

And no that’s actually a very valid criticism, i’m actually fully aware that my handwriting isn’t the easiest to read, both cause I tend to write really fast that the letters start getting blurry with each other and cause I can’t for the life of me write like a normal person and my writing tends to be a bit italicized xhhxhxhhx

That’s why i’m happy to say you won’t have to suffer anymore, cause @byrdblood provided me with an amazing website that turns handwriting into a font, very handy and I actually did finish making my handwriting into a font

So my comics should be a lot easier to read moving forward >:)

My handwriting still looks bad but at least it’s a lot more legible bdhxhdhhd (and I won’t have to write it myself anymore thank fuck cause that was hell it took so much time and energy dhhdhdhhd)

[katnisspeetaprim]

How Could This happen?

Little sister au

Warnings: idol!au, jungkook's sister au, stray kids 9th female member au, SA (read my AN for more detils about this) being mistreated, crying, panic attack.

Word Count: 2372 M.list

A.N: So this is based off the request above, was meant to be all in one part but was getting too long. I know some people won't be comfortable with the topic of SA but it's nothing explicit in this story, just groaping. Please note that I'm not just pulling this from nowhere, it is based oartly on my own experiences with SA, and I find writing about the topic helps me in some way. If you aren't comfortable reading this kind of thing, please feel free to skip this one!

(Set some time before the 5 Star comeback)

The new comeback was set to be one of the biggest for the group so far. Because of this, JYP had moved a few of your staff around, bringing some over temporarily from other groups that you were familiar with, and some new hires altogether.

One of the new hires was actually a temporary personal manager for yourself, considering your regular one had left for maternity leave.

Your new manager was an older man, probably in his 40’s called Mr. Lee, which you had no problem with. You were used to working with male staff members, in fact you excitedly introduced yourself on his first day.

‘Hello! I’m Jeon Y/N. I look forwards to working with you!’ You bowed respectfully with a warm smile. You expected to receive a warm response in return, but all you got was a scoff and some annoyed mumbling under his breath, before skulking away to some other new staff members.

‘what was that about?’ Hyunjin wondered over after witnessing the interaction.

‘I’m not sure.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe he’s just having a bad day.’ You shrugged off the incident on his first day, putting it down to a one off moment. Little did you know , things were about to get much worse over the coming months...

You knew your new manager hated the job he’d found himself in. He clearly thought that managing the only female in an otherwise boy group was beneath him.

Some may think that you were overreacting, but you didn’t have to be a detective to spot the signs.

It was little things at first, a snide comment here or an odd look there... But things had escalated physically within a few weeks.

Of course he was good as gold in front of your members or other staff, so you decided to keep quiet, not wanting to create a difficult situation during such a stressful time.

‘I’m so ready for bed right now.’ You stretched out your sore muscles as you walked next to Changbin after a long day of practice.

‘Bed? It’s only like 7pm! You’re turning into an old lady!’ changbin laughed and pushed your shoulder playfully. The cheery mood faltered when a female staff member called after the two of you.

‘Y/N I’m glad I found you.’ She ran up to you, looking flustered as she stopped for a second to catch her breath. ‘Mr. Lee is looking for you.’ You couldn’t hide the way your face fell at the mention of your managers name.

‘what does he need?’ You asked, trying to keep your voice calm.

‘I don’t know, just said he needs to see you...’ She trailed off with a huff, obviously not too happy about keeping the man waiting.

‘It sounds important. I can wait for you?’ Changbin looked over to you with a light frown, not feeling too good about you being the only one having to stay behind after a long day.

You desperately wanted to accept his offer, but as you took in his tired, sweaty form, you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him. Especially now that you noticed the other members obliviously walking ahead, engrossed in their own conversations as they turned the corner out of sight.

‘No it’s fine.’ You waved in dismissal. ‘You catch up with the others. I’ll ask Mr. Lee for a ride home.’ You tried to smile convincingly.

Changbin agreed to leave, though as glanced back over his shoulder to watch you walk away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

You knocked on the door and waited for the all clear to entre. The staff member accompanying you had already left, clearly wanting to get back to her own work.

You were about to knock again when you received no answer, but you didn’t get a chance. The door suddenly swung open and before you could react, you were yanked inside by your arm. You couldn’t help but let out a pained gasp at the painful contact.

‘Oh please. It didn’t hurt.’ Mr. Lee scoffed as he slammed the door shut behind you.

You frowned deeply and rubbed the sore part if your arm, deciding to stay quiet for now.

‘I watched you all practice today.’ He came and stood directly in front of you. You weren’t the tallest person, so he practically towered over you when he stood so close. It took everything in you to not flinch away or step back. He would have only used it as another opportunity to mock you.

‘I couldn’t help but notice you’re filling out your clothes more. Have you put on weight?’ You were suddenly regretting your decision to go home in your training gear. It was a yellow sports bra, paired with camo print leggings. You knew the outfit showed a lot of skin, but it was easy to move in and you felt comfortable around your members, plus it was much less effort to go home first and change after a shower.

You suddenly felt very exposed under the mans gaze, and unconsciously brought your arms up to cover your chest.

‘N-no... I haven’t...’ Mr. Lee just sniggered before he suddenly lunged and pulled you towards him by your arm and running is disgusting hand over your backside.

'Really? Well this tells a different story!' He squeezed hard as you tried to squirm away from his touch.

Your mind began racing a mile a minute.

He’d been treating you awfully since day one, but you never expected him to be capable of something like this.

‘Stop! Let me go!’ You flailed in his arms, trying your hardest to escape, but he only tightened his grip on you.

‘Hey!’ He spit out, moving both his hands to tightly grip your upper arms. His face was so close to yours that spit from his words landed on your face.

You wanted to vomit.

Tears were streaming down your face as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

‘Remember who’s in charge here. I could ruin you.’ With those final words, he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking and moaning, as he left slobbery, messy kisses wherever he could reach.

Your whole body froze up. You felt like you were going to pass out. You couldn’t control your panicked breathing. Your whole body was shaking as his grip only seemed to get tighter.

‘P-please...’ You tried to plead meekly one last time to get him to stop.

He only ignored you and continued his assault on your neck, as one of his hands left your arm and began to wander over your chest.

He wasn’t going to stop.

You knew full well he would take this as far as he could. You had to do something, anything to get out of this situation.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you closed your eyes and with as much force as you could muster... You thrust you knee up, and connected dead centre wit his balls.

Mr. Lee was caught off guard and let go of you to cradle his man hood as he doubled over in pain.

You didn’t waste a single second to book it out of the room and down the corridor. You didn’t even stop to pick up your bag, just wanting to be anywhere but there.

You kept your head down as you walked through the dark street.

It was freezing out and you were still only wearing your sports bra, as you didn’t have time to grab anything before running out.

To people observing you from the outside, it looked like you were wondering aimlessly and currently regretting your wardrobe choice, but in reality... You knew exactly where you were going.

‘Ok I’m coming!’ Jungkook yelled out in annoyance as someone continued to bang aggressively on his door.

He ripped the door open, ready to chew into whoever thought it appropriate to knock like that. His anger turned to shock, then worry when he saw your shaking form before him.

Before Jungkook could even say anything, you rushed forwards and threw your arms round him, before beginning to sob uncontrollably into his chest.

Jungkook was at a loss for words. The last thing he expected to open his door to that night was his sobbing twin sister. He quickly composed himself and pushed the door closed behind you and returned your embrace. His eyes widened when he felt how cold your skin was.

‘Jesus you’re freezing! Why are you out dressed like this? What’s going on?’ he held you at arms length as he tried to gather any information about your current situation.

You tried to speak, but due to a mix of the cold and the sobs, you found it difficult to get any words out at all. Jungkook realised your struggle and quickly ushered you to sit on his couch, before scurrying off down the hall.

You rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up and calm down, before Jungkook ran back in almost as quickly as he left, with a folded fluffy blanket in his arms.

‘Here, you need to warm up!’ He draped the blanket over your shoulders, which you graciously scrunched around yourself.

Jungkook took a seat next to you and gently rubbed your back.

‘Will you tell me what happened? I can help you.’ He prodded gently, wanting to make sure you knew he was on your side.

You bit your lip nervously and looked away, already feeling new tears forming just thinking about what happened.

‘U-umm. You know how I told you that I got a temporary manager?’

‘Yeah?’ Jungkook drew out, scared to know where this could be going.

‘Well... He’s never been nice to me, but I could handle it since he’s only temporary...’

Jungkook clenched his jaw at hearing your staff wasn’t treating you right, but stayed silent to allow you to continue.

‘B-but today he umm..’ You trailed off, unsure if you should really tell him anything.

Jungkook picked up on your hesitation, so he gently prodded you to continue. He needed to know what happened, even if it made you uncomfortable to say. He couldn’t help if he didn’t know how.

‘It’s ok. Take your time... I’m here with you.’ He rubbed your back soothingly, coaxing you to talk.

You looked at your brother for a second. You could see the concern all over his face. He wanted to help you. Attempting to calm yourself down, you took a deep breath and wiped away your tears.

‘He cornered me and he t-touched me..’ You stuttered out and avoided eye contact as you spoke, too ashamed to look your brother in the eye.

Jungkook didn’t need you to elaborate on the word touched. His worst fear that came with his sister becoming an idol had come true. He could feel his anger bubbling up inside, but he tried his best to keep it together for your sake.

‘I managed to knee him in the balls and run away, but I left my stuff behind...’

‘Shit.’ Jungkook whispered to himself, face buried in his hand as the other stilled on your back.

‘You’re safe here, I’ll-‘ Jungkook started to address you, but suddenly stopped when two other men burst into the room.

‘Hey! Sorry we’re late!’

Fuck. He’d completely forgotten he’d invited Taehyung and Jimin over tonight. Taehyung abruptly stopped when he saw you, causing Jimin to almost run into him.

Blush formed on your cheeks when you noticed both men staring at you in confusion.

You quickly got up without a word and ran to Jungkook’s bathroom. You felt like you really needed to shower.

As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut, Jimin and Taehyung turned to Jungkook for answers. He reluctantly told them to sit, and began explaining your situation. If they also knew, then maybe they could help in some way.

‘What the fuck!?’ Taehyung shot up and burst out as Jungkook finished explaining. ‘How could this even happen without anyone noticing!?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jugkook sighed with a shake of his head, suddenly feeling like he’d lost all his energy.

Taehyung and Jimin shared a look, both equally as angry about what happened to you.

You were their maknae’s twin sister, which automatically made you family to them.

In the bathroom, you’d turned the shower up as hot as you possibly could. You could still feel his touch on your skin and it made you feel dirty. Especially where his lips had touched your neck.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying once again as you scrubbed at your skin.

The heat had made your skin heat up in a light shade of red. The amount of time you’d spent in there, you were sure Jungkook would have no hot water left.

Little did you know whilst you were showering, Jungkook was receiving a frantic phone call from Chan...

Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin had been talking furiously back and forth about the situation and how to approach it, when Jungkook’s phone suddenly began to ring. He had every intention of ignoring the call, when he caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

‘Wait guys! Chan is calling me!’ Jimin and Taehyung immediately shut up and gestured for him to answer.

‘Oh thank god you answered!’ Chan sighed in relief as soon as Jungkook answered. ‘Has Y/N been in contact with you? We can’t find her anywhere!’ Chan was clearly panicking from the tone of his voice.

‘Yeah she’s here with me. She’s really upset...’ There was silence from Chan’s end for a moment, confusing Jungkook.

‘Chan... Do you not know what’s going on?’  Jimin and Taehyung couldn’t here the other half of the conversation, but both their eyebrows furrowed in shock. Jungkook shot them a look, as he waited for Chan to reply.

‘....Mr. Lee has accused Y/N of attacking him. He’s going off to anyone who’ll listen and nobody knows what’s happening! I’m really worried about Y/N...’

Jungkook’s face paled at Chan’s words. How the heck could this be happening right now?

They needed to figure this out asap, for your sake...

[zielenica]

Ferns! Yayyyyy! I was fighting with thist painting for a while and finally I'm done. This painting is inspired by a photo I took. I'm still searching for nature even when I'm in a City. It is fascinating that some plants can survive in such hursh environment wihout soil, growing on concrete. And goddddd I love ferns sooooo much. Those are definitley my favourite plants. I mean have you seen how they grow!? Young ferns shaped like snail shells. Trurly a work of art! The ferns I've painted aren't so detaled. But I promise I will make a drawing with them showing their beauty. A detiled one

[redhairedwolfwitch]

In Sickness - Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

A/n: this fic is covid heavy and based on my personal experiences, so there is content involving covid, hospitals, detiled medical stuff, anxiety (because i felt a lot of it on that lovely day where i was in a&e for nearly two days...) so read at your own risk because i probably overshared. take care of yourselves. @grapefruit-personified enjoy:) especially because i wrote this months ago and part 2 is mainly written, i just lost motivation to finish anything.

do not repost this anywhere, i only post on this tumblr so unless it's a reblog, it was stolen.

///

You could remember the day you met her. You had just moved to Spain, knowing zero Spanish made you shy and you were struggling with school, not understanding much. She spotted you sitting on the grass, tying together daisies into chains one lunch time, eventually she went over to join you instead of playing her usual lunchtime football.

The on hold music finally stopped as the clinician returned to the phone, advising you to get to the closest A&E department within the hour, after asking you if you had some way to get there.

Checking the time on your phone, you grimaced at the 12% and decreasing battery before admitting you had no way to get to A&E, resulting in advice for an ambulance, but a taxi would be quicker.

Your teammates were already at training, so none of them would be answering their phones, and your partner, she was where you left her. Barcelona.

Her last message to you was a good morning one, a message you had mirrored before the stabbing pain in your ribs had gotten worse.

You’d been able to withstand the pain yesterday, but it was stabbing more and more, getting more intense and making it hard for you to do anything. Now you were masked up in the back of a taxi, your breathing laboured as you waited for the Manchester hospital you’d been given the address to to come into view.

Leila frowned as she looked around the Manchester City training ground, wondering where you were and if you were stuck in traffic or something.

It was ‘or something’. Sitting in the emergency department, it took over an hour for you to be moved from A&E to the major emergency department, but your blood pressure and heart rate were high enough that they did an ECG. The nausea from before had stopped, but the hot and cold flashes hadn’t.

Your phone was on 8% as you checked the notifications, having no internet connection meant you didn’t have many, but Leila had texted along with the staff asking where you were.

You were barely able to send a pin of your location to Leila before the 5% battery warning lit up your phone, but you were cut off as a healthcare worker approached, wheeling over the machine to check your vitals.

Vitals that were circling the toilet, especially after a sweet old woman had spotted you swaying in your half asleep state in the waiting room chair, helping you move to a recliner that enabled you to lean back safely.

The back and forth to and from the waiting room was draining, after emerging again to return to the waiting room with a cannula in your arm.

They’d taken blood to grow some blood cultures, apparently to see if it was bacterial or viral, before leaving you in the waiting room again, attaching a small bag of fluids to the cannula to hydrate you after taking more blood to check on your general functioning. It was the nasal swab that gave them all the information they needed though.

Your COVID test was positive, but that wasn’t the only concerning factor to your vitals. They were too high, even for an individual fighting a virus. They offered you paracetamol to try to bring your temperature down, but your blood pressure had dropped slightly, your heart was still racing and your d-dimer was slightly higher than normal. 

You couldn’t fight back the tears after that, the waterfalls hidden behind your mask as they discussed keeping you in observation even longer, asking about if you had a family history of blood clots in lungs or legs.

At this point you’d only had a couple of small packets of random biscuits to eat, eventually heading into the waiting room that you had been isolated from to protect other patients, to quickly grab a packet of crisps and some more water, but it was all too much.

You didn’t know Leila had gotten your location update once in the changing room after training, and when she got no response, she began to ask questions.

The club staff had no answers after discovering your emergency contact you had written down for the club knew nothing, and the hospital told Leila nothing after being given a name she hadn’t heard of for your emergency contact.

So Leila contacted someone who would know. Your partner. Even in Barcelona, Aitana would know who your hospital emergency contact was, Aitana knew everything about you, except that you were in hospital.

It was getting closer to dinner time, you had nothing with you but your wallet, nearly dead phone and your zip up hoodie that was one of Aitana’s old Barcelona ones. Your legs and bum were going numb under the crappy waiting room chair you’d been moved to, your vitals still far too high for anyone to be comfortable sending you home.

They’d talked about giving you a blood thinning medication but a change in doctor later had you recalling all of your family health history instead. This doctor said it was sounding unlikely that you had a blood clot in your lungs, but they still sent you for a chest x-ray.

Aitana hadn’t heard from you all day. The panic inside her kept restrained by the knowledge you were probably training and having fun with your team.

Until Leila called, asking about a family member who had been out of your life for years now. A family member who was apparently still your emergency contact in NHS systems. It didn’t take long for Aitana to read through what Leila had sent, realising immediately you were in hospital and nobody had heard from you since.

It was closer to 8pm when they gave you the blood thinning injection in your stomach, keeping you hydrated with more water and trying to control your fever with more paracetamol.

You had all of the notices on the walls of the hospital waiting rooms memorised at this point, but the ‘one visitor per patient’ in the hospital policy was useless when you had come to the hospital alone.

Your arms were freezing cold, but you couldn’t get your sleeve on over the cannula without almost crying in pain, so you wrapped the shoulders of the hoodie around your shoulders and hoped your hands wouldn’t feel so cold so much longer.

The next flight to Manchester from Barcelona would arrive at Manchester airport past 11pm, but Aitana had made it to the airport in time for it, especially after asking her teammates for help.

They didn’t move you far, but once you had curled up across the two waiting room chairs, you were moved into an isolated room with a small view through the door of the nurse’s station outside.

The walls were bare minus plug sockets for machinery, a table near the recliner you were able to set up for the night, a sink in the corner and a bin for clinical waste in the other. It was past 10pm when a healthcare worker came in, attaching a bag of fluids to the cannula in your arm and leaving you alone in the dark.

Exhaustion washed over you but the cold feeling of the fluids being administered into your arm kept you half awake. Your phone is barely holding on with its 5% battery but the message Aitana sent when it was closer to midnight gave you hope.

She had rented a car from Manchester airport, getting her spare key from Leila to sort of your home for the night. A home that she had helped you pick out when it was clear Barcelona’s A team had no room for you, and you had outgrown Barcelona Team B.

One glance around your Manchester home was all it took for her to calm her anxieties. You weren’t there. Your bed was a mess, bedding all but tossed on the floor as she moved to pick up the bedding, finding some pyjamas for your return.

You were going to be okay.

She convinced herself of such as she checked your fridge, rolling her eyes at the nearing emptiness of your fridge and cupboards. She’d have to figure out how to do an online food shop.

It was closer to midnight when the first big bag of fluids was finished, sticking your head out of the door to have the tubing removed from the cannula, you headed towards the toilet for what was one of many trips there during the night.

You’d stopped looking at your phone hours ago, but getting a glance at the time after each toilet trip, it was nearly 2am when the next bag of fluids was administered, once again leaving you laying on the recliner in the dark, listening to every beeping alarm and footsteps passing by.

You probably should have called Aitana and told her what was going on, but every time you got an update, it was from a different healthcare professional and they kept changing their minds. For example, the blood thinning injection had been talked about hours before it was eventually given. You had managed to send out a short text though. 

You were COVID positive.

It was after 4am that you finished the next round of fluids, two bags that looked like they were cloudier, perhaps full of nutrients but the writing on the bags were small and you were more interested in going to the toilet again after flagging down someone to detach the tubing from the cannula again.

Your temperature and heart rate were fluctuating throughout the night, going from 39 point something degrees celsius to an apparent normal of 37 degrees, before rising again to 38.1 degrees celsius.

Waiting until 8am, another doctor came in, explaining the goal to get you a CT scan of your chest early this morning to check for blood clots, and if there were none, they planned to discharge you to ride out the COVID at home. It was only then that you were able to request something to eat, since your last meal yesterday was a three pack of digestive biscuits.

One bowl of cornflakes and milk later, you were offered more paracetamol and left to wait until it was time for your CT scan.

Your arms were freezing despite attempts to keep warm under the one blanket you were given, plus a smaller blanket to act as a pillow for your head.

They didn’t want to increase your temperature by giving you another, so you worked with your hoodie, the softness of the fabric working to keep you calm as you waited, and waited.

Aitana hadn’t been able to sleep much. The worry of you still being in hospital consuming her, so she stayed up, using a multi-surface cleaner to wipe down the surfaces in your place, gather your medical supplies in case you needed them to fight off the COVID virus.

You didn’t hear from anyone until noon, but the CT scanner was ready for you, and after a quick check that you were okay to walk, you followed the healthcare worker to the CT scanner room, a different location entirely to where the emergency x-ray rooms were located.

They checked you weren’t allergic to the contrast dye they would administer via the cannula, before warning you of the warm feeling that often overtakes your body once administered, and how it would feel like you had wet yourself, even though you would not have actually wet yourself.

Your arms ached as you held them above your head for the chest CT, slamming your eyes shut at the horrid feeling of the scanner moving, you remained still as you were informed what was happening, and when they were administering the CT contrast dye.

The warm feeling was too hot to feel like you had actually wet yourself, but it was a horrid feeling that didn’t help the nausea at the CT scanner moving to get the required imagery of your chest. You just wanted to go home, but it would be a lot worse if you did in fact have blood clots on your lungs.

Walking back to your isolation room, you were playing a waiting game as you managed to send another text to Aitana, updating her that you had had the CT scan. 

It was getting towards 1pm when the vitals machine was wheeled into your room, checking your temperature (38.1 degrees celsius), your heart rate which had decreased from 140 beats per minute to 128 beats per minute.

Your oxygen levels had maintained high throughout but when it came to the healthcare worker checking your pulse, your wrists were still freezing to the touch.

There were no signs of your CT scan results, but the healthcare worker had been kind enough to ask if anyone had spoken to you about food, something you had not had since being brought the cornflakes hours ago.

The result of the conversation turned into a sandwich, some more water, and a yoghurt as you continued to play the waiting game for your scan results and whether you did or did not have blood clots in or on your lungs.

It was nearing 2pm when the doctor from this morning entered your room again, but the key piece of information you needed was given. Your CT scan was clear, you could be discharged and have your cannula removed. You could go home and ride out the COVID in your own bed.

Your phone was somehow holding on as you texted Aitana that your scan was clear so you could go home if she or someone else could pick you up from the main reception carpark, your phone sending the message and getting a thumbs up response before finally the battery dropped to 0%.

Sticking your head out of the door, the mask you had been wearing since yesterday felt damp and close to your face, but you did not remove it yet. Waiting for a nurse to come remove the cannula in your arm, you went for your final toilet break before the final hospital waiting game.

It was warm outside, and despite the clouds in the sky making it seem greyer than that one moment where you saw out a window when waiting for the CT scan, it was sunny too. Your phone was long dead, but you were alive.

Holding your hoodie in your arms, your phone and wallet in your pockets as you made the trek across the main reception disabled car park, lingering near the out of use bus stop that gave you a perfect vantage point of the entrance into the hospital from the main road.

You weren’t entirely sure who you were looking for, who would be your saviour and get you home until a car you didn’t recognise pulled up in front of you. The window going down to reveal a pair of eyes you had not seen in person since the two of you were in Italy together during the winter break.

“Mi dulce flor!” you exclaimed, shock in your tone but your throat felt like you were swallowing knives, barely getting into the passenger seat before you were almost hacking up your lungs into your mask.

“Cálmate, estoy aquí mi amor.” Aitana cooed, her hand lingering on your back as you coughed, eventually settling enough to put your seatbelt on so Aitana could drive you home.

“Are you hungry?” Aitana paused, going over the English in her head as she watched you walk over to your couch, appearing with several blankets before digging through your living room cabinets for something.

“Bebé?” Aitana broke the silence as you froze before letting out a hoarse cheer of victory.

“Found it!” Revealing the old box set that left Aitana smiling softly, watching as you went to play the series from the beginning, then disappearing to your room.

It was getting dark when Aitana realised your phone was charged, allowing you to finally message your teammates and staff at Manchester City with an update of what had happened. But it also gave Aitana a chance to message her teammates and the staff at Barcelona, sending a photo of you wrapped in blankets, half asleep as you watched the TV.

It was Alexia, Patri and Laia that messaged back first, Alexia having helped Aitana get to the airport the night before whilst Patri and Laia had held down the fort when Aitana had to leave.

“What happens when you miss training? You have the game against Atleti… and the game against Chelsea-”

“Shush, mi amor. You were alone in the hospital for more than a day, I am not leaving you again.” Aitana replied, passing you your drink as you began to cough.

“They worried you had, what did you call it? Blood clots on your lungs! Era serio!” Aitana exclaimed before quietening her voice as you grimaced at the loudness.

“Lo siento.”

“It is not your fault. The virus…” Aitana fell quiet, brushing away a tear as you reached for her hand, holding it gently, “I thought I would lose you, mi dulce flor. I cannot lose you.” Aitana admitted, feeling your fingers draw patterns in the back of her hand. Your eyes were glassy with exhaustion but the love for Aitana in them was undeniable. 

She wouldn’t admit it, but Aitana listened to your breathing for most of that night. It was heavier, but you kept breathing which was a relief to her. The windows were opened enough to air out the room from germs, your fear of giving Aitana the dreaded virus which was wreaking havoc on your body and mind overwhelming you.

You didn’t want to get out of bed, the way your body ached was not helping you but Aitana needed your help for an online order of food. You were running a fever that was kept at bay by paracetamol, tapping away on the touch screen to add things to the order, much to Aitana’s amusement at how quickly you were doing it.

She found you on the couch later, curled up under your blankets and clad in your dressing gown over your pyjamas. You were breathing heavily but you remained in deep slumber, the tv stuck replaying the menu music over and over as you’d gotten to the end of the disc. 

Feeling your forehead to check your temperature, Aitana froze as it sounded like you whimpered in your sleep, eyes cracking open as you smacked together your dried lips. “Your hands are cold.”

Aitana rolled her eyes playfully before disappearing for a moment, dropping something in your lap as she returned.

“Lip balm? Gracias mi dulce flor.” Your voice was laced with sarcasm but Aitana ignored it in favour of heading to your kitchen to make something that didn’t irritate your mouth.

You hadn’t admitted it at first, but you had been trying to hide the grimace at the toast you had this morning, the rough texture hurting the hard palate of your mouth.

Staring up at the ceiling of your living room, your eyes fluttered shut as memories flickered in your mind. The first time you met Aitana, the flower crowns the two of you would make together, and the dynamic duo the two of you became on the football pitch, despite the boys picking on Aitana for her height, and you for existing.

Aitana was 13 when she joined Barcelona’s youth team, whilst you took longer to join, the two hour rides by public transport to get to practice were not in your favour until you were travelling with Aitana and her father.

The two of you were moved up to Barcelona B close together, but when Aitana was 17, she was promoted by the manager to the first team, whilst you remained with Barcelona B. It didn’t take long for you to figure out why.

You had the talent, but Barcelona were full of talented players, they had no room for you. No matter how well you and Aitana played together, you would not get to play with Barcelona’s first team.

It broke your and Aitana’s heart to leave, but Manchester City gave you an offer that was better than any other club in Spain. Manchester City were not Barcelona, but you flourished there. You flourished into a player that Barcelona kept an eye on, until your contract with City began to run out in the summer and the talks to renew were at a stalemate.

And now you have covid. A virus that you’d seen and heard of other players getting back during the height of the pandemic, but none were so affected as you were now. None had to be hospitalised despite being clinically healthy. They bounced back, but despite Aitana’s remarks that you would be back stronger, you doubted it.

The exhaustion hadn’t left you alone, even days later. Your temperature was kept at bay by paracetamol, your coughing grew worse before it was better, your gums so sore that eating crunchy foods still hurt, and you felt like you had cotton wool in your ears and wrapped around your brain.

Even after you were testing negative, your energy levels remained low but Aitana had to leave for London for the match against Chelsea before returning with the team to Barcelona.

She had tested negative throughout somehow, and it broke her heart to leave you, but it wasn’t long until the end of the season and the two of you would be reunited again.

The match against Chelsea ended on good terms for Barcelona, with a 1-0 advantage in the first leg thanks to Caro, and whilst you watched Aitana struggle to get on the ball in the first half, the second half enabled your partner to have more of the ball, despite the lack of goals.

You weren’t the only player who wasn’t on the Manchester City squad list for the match against West Ham the day after though.

Sandy and Laia were both out with injuries, and you were still weak and recovering from the virus that rampaged your body and mind. You sat with the two of them as you observed the game against West Ham, City winning 6-2 against the Hammers.

Your cough didn’t fully leave you alone, but that wasn’t the only issue. Your joints hated you enough that your knee joints felt like cement, your ears felt like they had cotton wool stuffed in them, and because of this, you were more wobbly on your feet than you had ever been before.

Manchester City had ruled you out for the rest of the season too quickly for you to feel comfortable, but it wasn’t what was bothering you. The talks that were previously at a stalemate had fallen through. Manchester City had decided not to renew your contract, and you couldn’t help but blame yourself.

“City don’t want me anymore. They took me in when Barcelona had no place for me, but now… I feel like a broken toy cast away when I’m no use anymore.” You left a voicemail for Aitana, she was busy training for the next leg of the semifinals against Chelsea.

Your hands tingle as you begin to type up what you had to, what you needed to say, to get control over something in your life.

Although some people may be excited by the prospect of a player who originated from Barcelona’s youth teams being a free agent who could come home, you knew the reality was much worse.

City were still at least trying to help you with your recovery but your hopes of returning to your pre-covid state were fading, especially after they ruled you out for the remainder of the season.

‘It’s a bitter feeling. Realising that the last game I played would be my final game at Manchester City. A club that took me in when I was lost, you have taught me so much and I will always be grateful. Thank you for changing my life, but my part at Manchester City is over. I won’t forget any of it.’

It was an early goodbye, City still had four matches left, two at home and two away. You would get to attend the home matches in the crowds, but you wouldn’t get to step on the pitch in City colours again.

Your lungs were fine according to the staff at City, your cough coming and going but it was your joint and fatigue issues that were the problem.

Your energy levels came and went, and even though they had had you training alongside your teammates some days, you would be wiped out after.

You had even fallen asleep in the dressing room at one point, using a hoodie that Aitana had worn whilst she stayed with you as a makeshift pillow. Leila was the one who found you,  but it was Steph that convinced you to let her drive you home, your body too sore to walk this time.

Steph remained silent as you sat in her passenger seat, tears falling down your face as you sobbed, venting your feelings of everything.

How your illness had wrecked your body and mind, how much you missed the old you, how much you missed playing and how much it hurt to leave Manchester City at the end of the season.

How afraid you were for what was to come, and how far away you felt from your partner, the love of your life you’d known since you were both children.

Steph, who knew what it was like to be away from a team due to injury, then dropped from the squad, but instead of her club, it was her national team.

You hadn’t even thought about the World Cup, but you knew deep down you would not be called up. You could barely stay standing after training, you would not be able to play a full ninety minutes in your current state at all.

“Do you know where you’ll go in the transfer window? Will you go back to Spain?”

“My love is in Spain, and I have nothing here outside of Manchester City. I’m lucky that City helped me with my coaching qualification before I got sick. I hoped that I wouldn’t need it immediately, but I’ll be a free agent in the transfer window, and I don’t know if anyone wants a player recovering from covid. Everyone else bounced back from it so quickly, but the simplest of things hurt me now. Please, I just want to go home and sleep.” You vented, swiping at your eyes to get rid of the tears, but Steph frowned at the last sentence you said.

“Don’t shut yourself away from us, little one. You may be leaving the club but you’re not leaving our hearts or our thoughts. So please don’t shut yourself away.” Steph begged, hoping you would make some sort of promise, but you didn’t.

It was a promise you could not keep.

/// translations hopefully ///

mi dulce flor - my sweet flower

Cálmate, estoy aquí mi amor - calm down, i'm here my love

Bebé - baby

lo siento - i'm sorry

gracias - thank you

[alicedash2]

Hi alicedash thank you for tryning your best to do my request I really love it.But i would like to request somthing more but with a bit more detil I hope you don't mind with the same y/n know sounds cringe but just hear me out lets say that the red hair pirates just  recruited a cute female crew member thats pretty short(like 169cm) and weak. She  goes shopping alone in town ,the town the red hair pirates staying at .But than she gets attack by some thiefs that try takeing her money but when she refuse to give them they beat her and leave her with huge red bruises on the arms/legs and on the forehead that start to bleed pretty bad ...she gets still in pain and robbed....walks to the local clinic.Stay in a room to heal. Meanwhile back at ship where the guys are starting to worry about their little pumkpin desides to go searching for her .They go around asking everyone at different food stalls  if they seen her keep mind that shanks and his crew are wereing their causal outfit and weapons on  and super tall guys so people get scread. They finally get a to a man that  saw her.he gives the directions to the clinic. Shanks and his crew get to the reception and ask for their little pumpkin is bit the receptionist tells that she can't tell where their pumpkin is at because if she has not clarifies that visitors are allowed than she can't tell them.Also because she thinks they look  suspicious because there pirates and also because they have weapons

How do you think the guys will react to this fact?

Have a lovely day!

Here we go!

Shanks x Reader

(Not reviewed, may contain several errors)

What a horrible day it was! YN had just joined the Redheads, she was a bit small and fragile, but that didn't stop her from joining the crew.

However, trouble struck when she decided to wander alone in the city on the recently arrived island. Everything seemed perfect until YN made the mistake of going alone. While shopping, a group of thieves spotted her and decided to attack. YN fought back, but she was beaten by the thieves who only fled when civilians intervened. Fortunately, YN didn't lose all her belongings, but she did suffer some broken bones. She headed to the nearest hospital, got prompt treatment, and hours later, Shanks realized her prolonged absence.

The search began as Shanks and his crew questioned frightened civilians. Despite Shanks being famous and intimidating, they managed to gather details from a man who witnessed the assault. However, when Shanks tried to visit YN in the hospital, he faced resistance from the receptionist, suspecting him as the infamous red-haired pirate.

- Sorry, sir, at the moment we do not accept visitors, it is past time, I ask you to leave - said the receptionist

- please let me see her! - Shanks implied

-Get out, by the way, you look suspicious! Aren't you the red-haired pirate?! You have weapons!- the receptionist said

-I-I just need to see her and I'll go away!- Shanks said

w-we can't hand over a civilian to a pirate!- The receptionist said, scared

Frustrated and anxious, Shanks decided to invade the hospital. Despite causing chaos, he finally found YN, lying in bed.

- "Are you okay?!"

Shanks asked as he approached her. She looked at him and nodded, showing her casted arm. Shanks picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and jumped through the window.

- "We'll take care of you, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Shanks said, laughing.

- "Looks like we'll have to train you. Damn, I shouldn't have let you wander alone!"

Shanks added, placing YN on the ground. Shortly after, the crew found Shanks and YN. Some members scolded YN, not too harshly, just to caution her. YN also learned that the same thieves who attacked her were brutally dealt with by Shanks and his crew, who returned some of her belongings.

[brimo5]

For a time, I thought it was just my headcanon that the Erinyes and other Chthonic deities were seeking revenge for Dionysus and punishing Pentheus. Then I discovered that Nonnus actually wrote about it:

But while Bacchos yet conversed with circling Mene, even then Persephone was arming her Furies for the pleasure of Dionysos Zagreus, and in wrath helping Dionysos his later born brother. Then at the grim nod of Underworld Zeus, the Furies assailed the palace of Pentheus. One leapt out of the gloomy pit swinging her Tartarean whip of vipers; she drew a stream from Cocytos and water from Styx, and drenched Agaue's rooms with the infernal drops as if with a prophecy of tears and groanings for Thebes; and the deity brought that Attic knife from Attica, which long before murdered Itylos, when his mother Procne with heart like a lioness, helped by murderous Philomele, cut with steel the throat of the beloved child of her womb, and served up his own son for cannibal Tereus to eat. This knife, the channel of bloodshed, the Fury held, and scratching up the dust with her pernicious fingernails she buried the Attic blade among the hillgrown roots of a tall fir, among the Mainads, where Pentheus was to die headless. She brought the blood of Gorgon Medusa, scraped off into a shell fresh when she was newly slain, and smeared the tree with the crimson Libyan drops. This is what the mad Fury did in the mountains. (44.255ff)

Even though in Book 31, Persephone sends Megaira to help Hera against Dionysus and Megaira is more jealous of Dionysus than Hera (a dumb pun). Considering that Nonnus doesn’t explicitly describe Persephone's Zagreus being reborn as Semele’s Dionysus, it's still odd to against her possible reborn son. Dionysus is a "bullshaped copy" and have "the whole shape of Zagreus", even come from the heart of Zagreus as Hydaspes claimed before book 31.

Is it because Persephone and the other Chthonic deities haven’t figured out the truth? Or did they consciously deny it from the beginning, perhaps out of anger or resentment? However, everything shifts when Dionysus prays to the moon. Persephone, who is also a figure associated with the moon, realizes that she should help Dionysus for Zagreus's sake. At this moment, the Erinyes are like, "Oh shit, we attacked the wrong target! But don’t worry, we're going to fix this now!"

Sorry, Nonnus, I still hate you. You are awful and capricious, but I want more plot twists and detils now!

[botanicadens]

Wruuuuuuuuuu

M comin

@d3vilss-nteh- detIls

You are– excuse me???