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no-144444 · 1 day ago

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guilt tripping- o.piastri

summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader

a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹

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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse.

“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered.

“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you.

“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise.

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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel.

“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off.

“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning.

“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?”

Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear.

When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave.

“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry?

“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”

“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head.

“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed.

You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his.

“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”

After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”

He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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motorsportbarbie13 · 14 hours ago

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The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 4

In which you escape to paradise with the love of your life.

Warnings: nothing unless you hate happiness. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.4k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - Master List

Phulay Bay, Thailand July, 2025

yourpersonalinsta posted

456,938 likes liked by taylorswift, redbullracing, alexandrasaintmleux, and others. yourpersonalinsta out of office tagged: maxverstappen1 kikagomes omg where are yoooou? >>>yourpersonalinsta thailand! he planned literally everything. all i had to do was show up. user928 max is never beating best boyfie on the grid allegations now redbullracing bring us back a coconut! >>>yourpersonalinsta hahahaha think max can smuggle one out in his backpack??? >>>redbullracing if he tries hard enough, he can do anything!

"Max, where'd you go?" You call, voice echoing out over the empty terrace of the beach villa Max had booked for you two during F1's summer break.

Last year, the two of you had spent a few weeks on a boat off of the Amalfi coast with some of your friends but this year, it was just the two of you. This entire trip had been a complete surprise, Max having planned the entire thing. You had gotten a text one afternoon just a few days into the month long F1 break from Max telling you to pack a bag (heavy on the bikinis and lingerie, as personally requested by your boyfriend) and to be ready to leave the apartment in Monaco in an hour.

You had bustled about, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting in your chest. To be quite honest, you had been looking forward to having some down time at home, just the two of you. It had only been a few months since you had permanently moved from New York to Monaco and you were far from settled, having spent most of the first half of the year traveling with Max.

The moment Max burst into your shared apartment though, all of your anxieties evaporated into thin air. He had never looked more relaxed than he had that morning, telling you he was taking you on a trip and to not ask any questions. You, of course, dutifully obeyed.

Which was how you found yourself at one of the most private and romantic beach resorts in Thailand, currently looking for your seemingly missing boyfriend. You'd been here for a few days now, soaking in the sand and sun and quiet peacefulness the resort had to offer. Mornings were spent slowly in bed, breakfast often skipped in favor of time spent underneath (or on top of) Max. Afternoons scuttled by slowly, spent under the sun on the beach in your bikini being oogled by Max. And nights were spent together, either in the media room of the villa watching movies or under the stars talking about anything and everything with the man that had completely stolen your heart.

It was in those quiet moments, while you sat snuggled up between Max's legs, back pressed firmly into his chest, on the beach where you were in awe of how much your life had changed in a little over a year. How quickly Max had swooped into you life, into your heart, and never left.

The villa is quiet and empty, you assume that Max has wandered down onto the beach or out near the private pool while you had taken a quick shower before your dinner reservations. Something on the bed catches your eye though and you cross the wooden planked floor to read the note that sits on top of a white linen dress.

My love, I know we had reservations at the resort's resturant tonight but I took the liberty of moving that to some place a little quieter. Put on the dress and meet me out on that little bluff where we always watch the sunset, dinner is waiting. all of the love my soul possesses, Max

Tears prick at your eyes when you finish the note. Laying on the bed is a white linen dress that you had no idea was even in the villa. It's brand new, you'd never even seen it before. The moment you pull it on over your head, you can't help but be impressed. It fits like a dream and when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but smile. The dress is cut perfectly to your figure, the neckline scooping down low to show off an extra bit of clevege and the hem hitting just below your knee. You're not quite sure how Max did it, but the dress fits you like a glove.

Your hair is still a bit damp, but you're eager to find where Max is and what he's up to tonight so you opt for a long braid down your back.

When you step out on the back veranda of the villa, the sun is hanging low in the sky, just above the sparkling blue water that stretches out in front of you. The resort sits on a little bluff overlooking the ocean, romantically tucked into the side of rolling green hills and a lush forest behind you.

Just beyond the edge of the villa's back yard is a little outcropping of land that juts over the beach below. Every night since you had arrived, Max had insisted on making a point to sit on this little private bluff and watch the sun go down. No matter what you were doing or what you had planned that evening, watching the sunset tucked deeply in Max's arms, became a tradition you wanted to continue forever.

The cool grass tickles your bare feet as you cross the lush green lawn. For a moment, you don't even look towards where you know Max is standing because you're so distracted by the crash of the ocean waves and glimmer of the sunset on the water. When you do look over though, you stop in your tracks, pupils blowing wide at the scene before you.

There, right on your little plot of paradise, stands your boyfriend. He's surrounded by what looks like hundreds and hundreds of white hydrangeas arranged in a large circle. Clusters of candles dot the edge of the circle casting a soft glow over the entire scene.

Max stands in the middle of all of this, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He's wearing the navy linen shirt you bought him for his birthday last year, top few buttons undone at his throat. The breeze off the water tugs a bit at his hair, long from a busy season with little time to stop and get a haircut. The fact that you liked his hair longer also had a lot to do with him refusing to cut it lately, but he'd never admit that to anyone but you.

When Max sees you walk out of the villa for the firs time, he thinks he might just pass out right there. The dress Kika and Alexandra had helped him pick out was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen you wear, besides that navy and red lacy lingerie set you had worn for his birthday last year, of course. He had been planning this for months now, much to Daniel and Lando's surprise. His two friends were the only other people who knew what this entire trip was really about. They had expressed their surprise at the plans since you hadn't even celebrated your one year anniversary when he had set all of this in motion. Max had simply replied with 'when you know you know' and no one had questioned it again.

The red and gold ring box sits heavy in his pocket, his fingers tracing anxious patterns over it's smooth surface. He wasn't nervous about what he was going to do. No, what he was about to do was the most confident and self assured decisions he had ever made. What he was nervous about was you saying no. He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take a rejection.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you approach Max. Unsure but confident about what's about to happen all at the same time. The conflicting emotions whirl around in your stomach in a hurricane of anxiety and shock.

"Hi baby." Max murmurs as soon as you step into the circle with him. His arms reach for you and to his great relief, you melt into him eagerly.

"Hi." Your voice nothing but breathy whisper. A smile that could power most of Europe shimmers across your face. "What's all this?"

"I know I said we were going to eat dinner out here, but I wanted to talk to you first." Max buries his head in your hair, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent of your shampoo, still lingering in your hair after your shower.

He takes a few moments and you are simply content to enjoy the feeling that settles over you. Outside of this little bluff, nothing else exists and you could stay here for the rest of your life and be completely content.

When Max pulls himself together, he pulls back a little so he can see you without craning his neck. "The moment you smiled at me the first time, my entire world shifted beneath my feet." His voice is rough, Dutch accent becoming more prominent the more emotional he gets. "The first time I kissed you in my drivers room in Miami, I knew I was done. I have never met a kinder, more ambitious, or more confident woman than you. Just being able to exist in your orbit has been the blessing I never knew I needed. I know it hasn't been long but I can't figure out how I ever managed to exist before you and I never want to find out what it feels like to exist after you."

Max pauses then, drawing in a shaky breath. Blood rushes past your ears as your knees threaten to buckle. You had hoped this day would come for you and Max but you had never expected it to be so quickly. Like Max, you had known pretty fast that he was it for you. You had tried to fight the growing feeling that your relationship could work its way into marriage but as you continued to settle further into life with him, you fought the feeling less and less.

He sinks to his knee then and looks up at you, those ice blue eyes that you dream about shining up at you. "I want to see you walk down the aisle towards me in a white dress. I want to see your belly grow when you carry our babies. I want to hear my children call you their mama and I want your babies to call me daddy. I want all of this and an entire lifetime of love with you and only you. Will you give me that, baby? Will you marry me?"

For a moment you're completely unable to breathe. The words Max said to you etched themselves onto your bones, words you'd never forget until your dying day. They were words that were to be written down. Words that your grandchildren would cry over one day when they stumbled upon your old journals in the attic.

Those kinds of things, those words, deserved to live in the universe alone for a bit, they're so powerful. You gave them space and respect, allowing what Max had said to you wash over your body.

"Oh my God. Of course. Yes. Please." You babble, really unable to make your mouth move in the way you want it. All you know is that you had never been so certain about anything in your entire existence.

Max slips the massive rock onto your finger before standing up to his full height. The diamond that winks up at you in dim candlelight is something that could be compared to the iceberg that sunk the titanic. Once the ring is secured on your hand, tonight's second perfect fit, Max catches your chin in his fingers to tip your head up towards him. When he kisses you, lips meeting yours so achingly tender, the entire world goes quiet. Everyone who could have possibly existed simply vanishes.

You stay like that for several moments, caught up in your boyfri- no, not boyfriend, fiance's arms and simply kiss him with every ounce of love you can wring out of your soul. His tongue licks into your mouth, eliciting a kitten like mewl of pleasure from the back of your throat. It's a sweet and tender kiss, soft and celebratory after what's just occurred.

"I love you." You say against his lips when you need a moment to breathe.

"I love you too. More than life, lifeje." Max's hand comes up to frame the side of your face, rubbing his thumb across your swollen bottom lip.

All you can do is stare up at him, pupils blown wide open. "How long have you been planning this? I can't believe you did all this...for me? Just for me?" For someone who has often gone unseen in their own family, being doted on like Max does is sometimes confusing.

"Months. I've had help. Danny and Lando helped decide where and how to do this." You can't help but chuckle at the thought of Daniel and Lando, two of Max's most unserious and unmarried friends, helping him plan a proposal.

"Alexandra and Kika too. They helped with the dress."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Those two bitches knew and didn't tell me!"

Max tilts his head back and laughs heartily. The sound sends a zing down your spine. "No, although I suspect they might have figured it out. I just told them I was taking you on a surprise date and needed help with an outfit."

"And of course I did all of this for you." Max continues, face turning serious. "I did this all for you because I wanted you to know how important you are to me. How much I need you in my life. You're my everything, baby."

Emotion clogs your throat as you fight to keep the tears from falling. "I can't wait to be your wife, Maxie."

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,293,938 likes liked by kikagomes, yourdad, danielricciardo, and others. yourpersonalinsta girlfriend < fiancé 💍 kikagomes ahhhhhhh congratulations pretty girl!!! you are going to make the most beautiful bride. WAIT OMG, is this why Max had Alex and I help buy that dress????? >>>yourpersonalinsta yes 🤭 love you kiks >>>user928 i'm sorry but am i reading this right? max had alex and kika help buy the dress that he had her wear to her own engagement. idk if i'll ever recover from this. user02938 MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED landonorris glad he finally did it so i can stop hearing about how excited he is. >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too, lando >>>landonorris ❤️ maxverstappen1 can't wait to start calling you mrs. verstappen >>>user0283 i cannot be normal about this >>>user0029 i have no one to send this too redbullracing our favorite couple together forever!!! congrats you two (liked by author and maxverstappen1)

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff

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tooclevertobehappy · 2 days ago

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Hidden in plain sight Part.4

TRIGGER WARNING: slight mention of injury, mentions of abuse, all angst no comfort

They’d been led into Clara’s room almost an hour ago, stood around for a few minutes staring at her as she slept, unsure of what to do before each of them found their place.

Mapi and Ingrid sat at her sides, both holding one of her hand in theirs, keeping their eyes on her, watching for any sign indicating she might be waking up.

Alexia took post near the door, standing against the wall her arms crossed over her chest, eyes locked on Clara’s face. The couple urged her to sit down or to at least stand near them, but the captain had refused, face tight, lips pressed into a hard line she’d simply looked at the door and stayed there.

She’d stared down any nurse or doctor that came by during their wait, she’d watched closely as they checked Clara vitals, looked at her bandages, she’d stood there looking like a spring wound tight, ready to snap at any moment.

Alexia felt like she had failed Clara, that she hadn’t protected her when it mattered and she would be damned if she let anything happen to her now. But Clara wasn’t awake, and it’s not like she could deal with her father herself, so she stood guard.

She couldn’t believe how small she looks in that hospital bed, the pediatrics gown they’ve put on her doesn’t help either, the small smiling characters contrast with the severity of her injuries. While the bandage and bruise on her face shocked all of them when they’d entered, she knows that the ones hidden by the gown are so much worse.

They’d been sat in an almost religious silent since they’d entered, their vigil only interrupted during the regular check-ins of the nurses, all looking for any signs of life from Clara, while they all knew that the regular beeping of the monitor meant that she was here and alive, they knew that they would only be able to start to relax when she would finally open her eyes.

Clara may have been lying less than a meter away from them, but it felt like she’d never been further, they’d all missed it. They had spent months alongside her, and somehow never noticed that it was all wrong, the smiles, the laugh, the playful banter, it had only been a ruse to hide the truth.

A small whine echoed in the room, pulling the attention of all three women towards the bed. Mapi and Ingrid standing immediately and leaning over the bed toward Clara’s face while Alexia took the few steps separating her from the foot of the bed to reach them.

“Nena?” asked Mapi “Can you hear us?”

More soft sounds came out of the young girl whose face seemed to tense as she slowly became more aware.

“Can you open your eyes nena?” pleaded Ingrid, the desperation to finally see Clara awake seeping through her words.

Clara didn’t open her eyes but one of her hands came up trying to feel her head where pain still radiated from, Mapi caught it just as she was about to reach the bandage covering up her forehead.

“No no no Nena leave that alone” she softly tells her, voice firm.

A confused whine comes out of Clara as she blearily open her eyes, blinking slowly as she makes direct eye contact with Alexia from her position on the lightly raised bed. Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion, her gaze darting around the room as she takes in her surrounding. Her eyes dart to each of the women standing in the room, Mapi and Ingrid by her sides and her captain standing before her.

“Wha.. What happened?” Clara asks.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” answers Ingrid, her shaky voice causing Clara’s confusion to rise.

“Training? We were doing the 11vs11 and then… I don’t know, my head hurts though, so I’m guessing I hit it? Is that why we’re here? And why you all look at me like I’m about to die?” answers Clara trying to see the humor in the situation.

Clara’s joke about the scar was meant to lighten the mood, but it felt hollow. Her words hung in the air, flat and forced. It was the same nervous habit she had when she didn’t know what to say, when she was unsure how to handle the tension building around her.

Alexia’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes narrowing as Clara made light of the situation. The smile on Clara’s face, the joke about their worry, it grated against everything Alexia was feeling. She wanted to shout, to demand answers. She turned away from the scene in front of her, trying to calm herself.

“Yes, you hit and bashed your forehead open during training, you lost consciousness and that’s why you were brought here” confirms Ingrid, whose hand is now back holding Clara’s, running small circle on it with her thumb.

“Will the scar look cool at least?” says Clara wiggling her eyebrows towards Mapi.

Alexia turns back to them, her hand coming down harshly against the metal bars of the foot of the bed, the smack resonating throughout the room.

“Will you stop joking! Alexia’s voice broke the tense silence, loud and raw. She slapped her hand against the metal foot-board of the bed with a sharp crack, and Clara flinched, the sound ringing in the room. “You had us all worried to death!”

Clara’s smile faltered, and she stiffened in Ingrid’s grip, her eyes wide with confusion. Her body tensed, as if the words had physically struck her. She turned to look at Alexia, but the captain had already turned away, her shoulders rigid with barely contained anger.

The couple shared a worried look over her, both noticing the growing tension in the room. Mapi took a step closer to Alexia, her hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, but it was like touching a live wire. Alexia’s tension radiated off her, a palpable force that made the air feel thick. Mapi could see the storm brewing in her captain’s eyes, but she couldn’t calm it.

“Ale…” whispers Mapi

Ingrid’s calm voice cut through the tension. “Alexia, stop. She’s not ready for this. We need to focus on her, not fight each other.”

“No! She doesn’t get to joke about this! She doesn’t get to pretend everything is just fine!” exclaims Alexia pushing Mapi’s hand off her and taking a small step back.

Clara’s heart raced. The outburst felt like a slap, and she could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. What had she done? Why was Alexia angry at her? Her mind raced, struggling to make sense of the sudden change in atmosphere. Had she been next to her when she got injured? Had she injured someone else and the captain is mad at her for it? She racks her brain trying to make up a story in her head that would fit with her reaction but comes up empty.

“I don’t understand” she says in a small voice.

Ingrid softly smiles at her, but she can see the unease in her traits as she looks up at her, the hand that she’d been tightly holding onto lets go and a small part of her wishes she could grab it right back, and Ingrid’s hand comes up to her unmarred cheek and she slowly caresses it.

Ingrid’s hand was warm against her cheek, and for the briefest moment, Clara allowed herself to lean into it, as though the simple gesture might pull her back from the brink of panic. “It’s okay, nena”, Ingrid murmured, her voice gentle but firm. “Just focus on healing. That’s all that matters right now. “

Clara wished she could sink into Ingrid, desperate to feel the comfort she’d been craving for months, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall into it, Alexia is already upset with her, and there’s no way she’d allow herself comfort, not when she’d obviously done something wrong and needed to atone for it somehow.

She starts to wonder if this is it. If Alexia is finally tired of having to take care of her. She’d tried no to be a bother to the older players, tried to do her part and follow all of the captain’s order. But maybe she’d been too much, too needy, maybe that’s why Alexia seemed so distant.

She should be used to it by now, trusted adults giving up on her, she should have learned that lesson long ago. Tried to get by whilst only relying on herself, tried to distance herself from the pain that would come with the inevitable abandonment that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

But she made mistakes, got too attached again, went to dinner at Mapi and Ingrid’s house, got attached to them, to their gentle care, followed Alexia’s advice blindly and did all she could to get the words of praise she craved from her.

She ended up in the same place she always does. Scared, hurt and alone. Sure she’s surrounded by them in the too bland hospital room, but in the end it’s only her.

Only her that goes home to her father, her who patches herself up and gets up in the morning no matter how much it hurts. It’s the four walls of her room that bear witness all her cries and anguish, it’s her who fights to keep going when it feels like the world is crushing her.

Clara can only rely on herself, it’s why she inches herself away from Ingrid, as much as she can, trapped on the small hospital bed, she’s rebuilding her walls, readying herself to face Alexia’s anger head-on, it’s why she misses the way Ingrid’s smile falls, how Mapi and Alexia abruptly end their hushed argument to turn and look at her.

“Nena?” asks Ingrid, trying to understand how in the space of a few seconds Clara went from leaning on her to seemingly trying to get as far from her as she can.

“I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done” says Clara, tone flat, almost mechanical.

The women all share concerned looks, it’s like she’d completely disconnected herself from the situation, laying there but not fully present.

“What are you apologizing for Nena? You’ve done nothing wrong” asserts Mapi, walking closer to her bed, but Clara barely reacts to her approach, her gaze unfocused and distant.

Clara turns her head to look at her, but to Mapi it feels like she’s looking through her rather than at her.

“But I must have done something wrong don’t I? It’s why she’s mad right?” asks Clara, her head making a small nod in Alexia’s direction, who suddenly feels like the worst person on earth.

Clara had woken up hurt in an unknown place, and what had she done except raise her voice at her and apparently scare her enough into becoming whatever this empty person in front of her seemed to be?

“Nena, nobody is mad at you, Alexia is just worried.” tries to explain Ingrid, her hand reaching for Clara’s.

But Clara retracts her hand from where it had been clutching the sheet, bringing it closer to her chest, as if Ingrid’s hand could hurt her, would hurt her. Her mind screaming at her to get away before she gets hurt again, before Ingrid leaves her behind.

Ingrid swears she can feel her heart breaking inside her chest seeing Clara flinch away from her, she looks at Mapi, distraught and not quite sure how she can help Clara without scaring her further.

The guilt momentarily overtaken by the need to care for the young girl now takes back control over her, stomach tightening into knots, she can feel bile rising in her throat at the possibility of Clara thinking that she’d hurt her.

“Why?” demands Clara “I’m completely fine aren’t I? My head feels fine, they already stitched me up, I’m sure they’ll let me out of here soon anyway!” she tells them, her voice raising along as she speaks, surely they understand that? She’s fine, has been for months, she can handle injuries, after all she’d been taking care of herself for months.

Mapi sighs, sitting in the chair next to her bed, hands resting on her thighs, taking a few small breaths before speaking “But it’s not just your head Nena isn’t it?” she’s posing the sentence as a question but they all know it’s more of an affirmation.

Clara tense as Mapi finishes her question, her eyes darting around the room as if she’s looking for a way out of the conversation, and if they’d looked at the monitor they would have seen her heart rate slowly raise as the conversation kept going.

“What do you mean? Of course it’s just my head, it’s the whole reason we’re here aren’t we?” Clara tries to affirm, but they can all hear the shakiness in her voice as Clara desperately tries to stay in control of the situation.

“Nena, we know.” says Alexia, voice firm, her expression tense. She’s done playing around with this issue, done pretending everything will be okay when none of them are sure it has even been okay to begin with.

Clara can feel her whole body tense up. She can hear her heart beat in her ears, almost drowning out the sounds around her, can feel the way her hands clench to the point she’s pretty sure her nails have cut the skin of her palms.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” asks Clara, defiance in her tone, if she has to go down, she’ll go down fighting. She’s done this whole dance routine before, she knows all about adults pretending to care only to leave when things get too real, too hard, too inconvenient to them.

She’s aware of their eyes on her, can see the tears in Ingrid’s eyes, can see the way Mapi looking at her, like she’s just a small, hurt, thing, it pisses her off, why do they pretend they care? She knows they don’t, no one has so far so why would they? But more importantly she’s fucking mad at Alexia, acting like she just knows everything when she knows nothing.

“How about you tell us about how you hurt your ribs?” Alexia’s eyebrows are raised, looking at her like she defying her to try and lie about it, Clara can see the exasperation in her eyes and somehow it makes her feel sick to her stomach.

“My ribs are fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” grits out Clara through clenched teeth, of course they hurt, she was pretty sure her father slamming her against the wall had been what caused the pain radiating in her side, but it had been manageable.

Alexia is stuck between wanting to wrap Clara in bubble wrap never letting her leave her sight and shaking the hell out of her. She contains her anger but can’t help the scoff that leaves her mouth.

“Try again, Clara. Fractured ribs aren’t fine.” she tries again from her position standing at the end of Clara’s bed with her hands on her hips.

Clara feels her heart stop in her chest before it starts back up thundering against her rib cage, her hands clutching into fists, she stares right back at Alexia as the monitor behind her start beeping loudly, alarming all the occupants of the room.

Alexia clenches her fists at her sides, guilt and frustration warring inside her. She wants to shake Clara, to make her understand they’re here for her but instead, her words come out sharper than she intended.

“That’s enough Alexia!” firmly exclaims Mapi “This isn’t helping her!”

“And letting her pretend everything is fine when she has been hiding being abused for weeks?” she snaps back at her, her eyes not leaving the teen’s own.

The world freezes. Clara hears the word abuse echo over and over, louder than the monitor, louder than her own heartbeat. Her vision blurs, her mind screaming to retreat, to block everything out—but instead, she forces herself to surface. To fight.

The others have been looking at her expectantly, waiting to see how she’ll answers Alexia’s words.

She choose the same path she always does when she’s confronted with the subject of her home life.

“Abuse?” she scoffs “And where did that crazy idea come from huh?” she continues

Even Mapi looks disappointed, they’d all hoped Clara would come clean, admit what she’d been going through, they remembered the agent words on abused children, but they thought, no, hoped, Clara would trust them enough with this, if not before then now.

“Clara” Ingrid speaks up “There’s no point hiding it anymore, we know okay? We know and we want to help you, please let us help you” there’s tears dripping out of her eyes as she holds eye contact with Clara, who’s looking back at her wide-eyed.

“I want my dad.” Clara’s voice trembles, rising to a pitch that makes the others freeze. She doesn’t know why she said it, only that the words feel like her last defense

The room falls silent, her words shocking everyone into stillness. Then Alexia speaks, her voice low, trembling with fury “He’s not coming anywhere near you, if we have anything to say about it.” Spits out Alexia through clenched teeth, trying to hide her shaking hands by holding onto the bed’s foot-board.

“He’s never coming close to you again” Alexia’s voice shakes, but her eyes stay locked on Clara. The guilt of her earlier anger still gnaws at her, but she channels it into conviction.

The monitor screams, and Clara erupts. “NO! LET GO OF ME! I WANT MY DAD! DAD, PLEASE!” She thrashes against the bed, tears streaming, her voice cracking with each desperate cry.

They all surround the bed, trying to get a hold of the crying teen whilst trying to keep their own tears at bay, hoping to stop her from aggravating her injuries.

Doctors flood the room, their voices sharp and urgent as they push the others aside. Alexia tries to argue, her voice cracking, but Mapi pulls her back. All they can do is watch from the hallway, the sound of Clara’s screams echoing in their ears until, mercifully, silence falls

The doctor came out of the room explained to them that Clara had to be sedated for her own good, that they couldn’t get the panic attack to stop and that the risk of worsening her injuries was too great.

They’re all told to leave for the night, to let her rest, that with the sedative she’s been given she’d sleep until the next day anyway, the doctor kindly recommends they get some sleep as well, that talks can wait till everyone is better rested and less on edge, before he leaves them standing there.

They leave, and go back to their home, all feeling emptier than ever. Everything they’d had hoped for ruined, they were left feeling like they had failed again.

Ingrid and Mapi go back to their apartment, foregoing food and showers, they just lay in each others arms, finally letting out all the anger, guilt and fear, out, through shaking sobs as they tried to keep the other from falling apart.

Alexia could have gone home to her apartment, gone back to Olga’s arms, but she’d drove straight to her mother’s house, knocking on her door before collapsing in her arms as soon as the door opened.

Her mother guided her to the couch before holding her tightly, rubbing her back as Alexia sobbed her feelings out, cried out her guilt, her failure.

They all wanted to help the teen, but would Clara let them?

As Clara laid on her hospital bed she’d asked herself the same question, woozy from the medication she realized she’d soon have to make a decision.

Her teammates or her father.

#hidden in plain sight #mapi x ingrid x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #angst #no comfort

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lilacstro · 17 hours ago

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🦋The first letter of your name, and your first impression 🦋

Hey! It's been a while since I posted, but there was so much going on..I wanted to make a DETAILED vedic name numerlogy post but I know no one really likes those details? Nvm, so I am here doing a short post, this is using vedic systems so please see that!

Let's get started!

For example, say your name is, Ariana Grande, you would see the letter A and not G. The relationship between A and G is another topic to discuss some other day. But for now we will ONLY see the first letter.

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⭐A, I, J, Q, Y Your first letter is ruled by the Sun. You are likely to be positive, outgoing, confident and charismatic. Very extroverted, "going to be myself" energy. You may not like to be told what to do. May also be more attached to father than the mother. You guys would make good actors and entertainers.

⭐B,K,R Your first letter is ruled by Moon. You are likely to be emotional, sensitive, and vulnerable in nature. High on emotional impulse, and moody but very very creative. You guys would do well in all kinds of creative fields. May be more attached to mother than the father.

⭐C,G,L,S Your first letter is ruled by Jupiter. You are someone who would see the "half glass full", always optimistic about a situation. People may come to you for advices a lot. Very knowledgeable and always learning something new, something foreign.

⭐D,M,T Your first letter is ruled by Rahu. You are someone who is always onto the next best thing, the next exciting thing, and you may hate monotony in anything tbh. You are hard to pin down, literally and metaphorically, no one really knows you truly, unpredictable. Usually popular with people.

⭐H,N,E,X Your first letter is ruled by Mercury. Smart people. You are someone who is seen as a quick learner, and can learn absolutely anything they like. Good orators and communicators, even if introverted. Persuasive speech and nature, and very quick witted and fast thinkers, almost to a point of haphazard or overthinking. Problem solvers.

⭐U,V,W Your first letter is ruled by Venus. You may be into creative expressions and artistry, such as maybe luxury perfumes, paintings etc. Very elegant and eloquent in nature and usually give a "too good to be true" kind of impression. People may see you as someone who is charming, attractive and friendly in nature overall.

⭐O,Z Your first letter is ruled by Ketu. You are someone who is likely to be seen "different" than others, people may not really understand how to feel about you, not in a negative way, but you do not give out much in terms of that. There is a wise, and spiritual nature to you. You are someone who can adapt to any situation or circumstances, almost like a chameleon so you can be hard to recognize, again.

⭐F,P Your first letter is ruled by Saturn. You are someone who is seen as structured or disciplined, someone who is wise and mature, no matter how it unfolds later on. You appear somewhat distant and someone who would not open up to you so easily, someone who has seen things in life, and gives a reliable, dependable aura.

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thydungeongal · 6 hours ago

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So there is a pretty clear shift in playstyle between TSR D&D and WotC D&D: for better and for worse, D&D 3e introduced the idea of encounter balance, de-emphasized mechanics that had previously encouraged the GM to think of the monsters as real living creatures (reaction rolls, morale, etc.), and it had the effect of making D&D a much more combat-focused game. D&D has always been a game that's opinionated about combat, it's basically the most expressive and detailed form of play regardless of edition, but combat in the TSR editions was not exactly zoomed in and tactical. The WotC editions purposefully made combat zoomed in, granular, and tactical.

And this has had an effect on playstyle: since combat is now the main form of player expression what players actually want is for their characters to get into combat. Because combat is the most fun part of the game. But the game has also changed from the largely amoral dungeon-crawling game into a game of fantasy heroics (even though a lot of the trappings of the amoral dungeon-crawling still remain, which contributes to the dissonance), so you can't just have the player characters going into combat for the sake of it. That would frame the player characters as kind of Fucked Up, and we can't have that in our supposedly heroic fantasy.

What you end up with is a variety of contrivances like "they're bandits," "they're cultists," or, my all-time favorite, "they attacked first" to make the action seem morally justifiable, even though gameplay is still motivated by a desire to fight. The monsters fight to the death and, importantly, can often not be reasoned and negotiated with, partly because combat is supposed to be the fun, engaging part everyone is here to do, but also because if they actually acted like reasonable people it could cause dissonance with the whole "the player characters are the goodest heroes."

As my friend @tenleaguesbeneath once called it: what is actually going on is that the player characters are hunting people and monsters who have been programmed to fight to the death and never negotiate for sport, while justifying it as self-defence.

It's a simple power fantasy, and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Sometimes you want to play a morally uncomplicated game about killing guys with cool magic swords. But I think it's also fun to think about what the specific types of monsters players end up fighting reveals about Society the invisible, unexamined ideology lying under the surface that the designers of even modern D&D have failed to examine. And to me it often reads like a frontier justice fantasy. None of that is to detract from anyone's joy of the game, and for me it's just fun to think about and post about this stuff while Still Enjoying the Game, but if someone expressing that opinion makes you feel uncomfortable, why? That's pretty silly imo.

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bekkathyst · 2 days ago

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Hey folks, this post is super personal and basically a long rant about health issues and the state of the healthcare system, so please proceed with caution especially if any of that is triggering to you. But if anyone else who maybe has some experience with these things and wants to offer some advice, I welcome it because I’m truly at a loss right now.

I’m really trying to be hopeful that my health issues will get figured out and I’ll finally get help for what I think is an autoimmune condition that is existing just under the diagnosable levels, but I’m losing any faith I had left in the healthcare system. The truth is I haven’t felt normal since 2021. I never felt better than I did while I was pregnant and then the year afterward. (Aside from the blood pressure issues at first lol) I keep find myself missing who I was back then. I was able to do so much, hike so far and high up, I had so much energy and I felt great. My blood pressure was under control, my blood sugar was perfect without restricting what I ate, my body wasn’t constantly inflamed and in pain, I didn’t have multiple migraines a month, and I didn’t have problems sleeping. I keep asking myself over and over what I did differently then, but I just can’t understand why I got so bad so quickly while they keep telling me it’s my fault because I’m just fat and not eating well or exercising enough. It’s maddening and I’m tired of hearing that. The reason I’m not exercising as much any more is because I’m constantly in pain or dealing with being sick. (And I eat SO well, better than I ever have before like wtf. And I do still exercise to be clear, I’m in nature every change I get.)

I was really hoping that I wasn’t going to face this here like I did in America, but it really seems like doctors just do not care about your symptoms and if you’re not presenting with the exact blood levels they studied to diagnose things, they’re just convinced you’re either making everything up or exaggerating.

So far I know I have: insulin resistance, high blood pressure (managed), PCOS, I’m hypermobile (which has been confirmed but no one’s bothered to look into it and any possible comorbidities), I have lipedema in my arms, hips, and thighs, chronic migraines, subclinical hypothyroidism, iron deficient anemia that I have to keep getting infusions for, and basically my whole life I’ve had headaches and heart palpitations. Phew.

I’m just at a loss here. This past year alone I’ve gained 30 lbs without changing anything, and if I bring this up I’m just told to stop eating carbs which is just absolutely not helpful. It’s clearly a symptom of whatever is going on and not the other way around. I’m so tired! And on top of the usual symptoms, I now spend basically October through April being sick with various coughs, infections, etc with little breaks of being normal in between.

Has anyone else dealt with this and have you found anything that’s helped? I try really hard to take care of myself, but it feels like these days nothing is really making a difference anymore.

#original #personal

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therealcocoshady · 3 days ago

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Kinktober - Day 21 - Aftercare

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

A/N : Here is the aftercare post for Kinktober (yeah, we're still doing that). I think it's the longest I have written so far... But I hope you enjoy it ✨

CW : Dom!Marshall x Sub!reader - Aftercare - A little angst - Fluff

After that weekend Marshall spent taking care of you, you could feel a slight change in the dynamic. He was still your dom, still your friend, but there was more intimacy than ever. He often instructed you to snuggle with him, sit on his lap and, though your quarters were technically still in the guest room, you slept in his bed practically every night you were at his place. It started with him suggesting some cockwarming at bedtime, since you’d both taken a liking to it, but it was now standard for him to just suggest cuddling, and you happily indulged him. It didn’t mean he went any softer on you as a dom, though. If anything, he kept on challenging you, the more comfortable you got as a sub. But you sure enjoyed the cuddling, as well as the more frequent kissing during aftercare. The two of you seemed to have found a steady rhythm and things were great, even though the lines were starting to blur a little. At the beginning, your submission and his dominance were only exerted on weekends and, though you saw each other on other occasions, the rest of the time was strictly platonic. But as time went on, it started bleeding in your friendship. Whenever you were alone with him, you leaned into your submissive side and let him take the lead. It had become second nature, by now, and though none of you exactly addressed it, both of you seemed to enjoy it.

The only clear boundary that remained was that none of your mutual friends and acquaintances knew what was going on between the two of you. As far as they were concerned, you just happened to be at Marshall’s place frequently, and they assumed it had to do with what they jokingly called « nerdy shit ». One of the perks of being longtime friends meant that people around you didn’t bat an eye. Throughout the year, there had been a couple of jokes about the two of you being some kind of match but both of you had always brushed it off. For years, you had joked about him being too old and boring for you and, in turn, he referred to you as « the nightmare for any boyfriend », so people had stopped questioning it. You liked the privacy of it all, the fact that Marshall being your dom was your secret, some sort of safe place no one knew about. You were in sync and you didn’t question it. Until you did.

The session had begun like any other before that. You were spending the weekend at his place, and he had summoned you to the bedroom. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, really. Just him, enjoying you, exploring your body and your limits, while you let him guide you, enjoying the mix of pleasure, struggle and pain. Surprisingly enough, even though he was a dom, he wasn’t kinky in a way you would have deemed as hardcore or elaborate. Before starting this whole dynamic, you would have expected any dom to be some sort of version of Christian Grey, with a huge collection of kinky objects and torture devices and a pleasure room that bordered on creepy. Nothing could be farther from the dom you knew. There weren’t too many toys, definitely no torture device and most scenes took place in cozy bedrooms that belonged on Pinterest rather that in any X-rated movie. And even though Marshall definitely liked to challenge you, it didn’t involve a lot of objects and equipment. Somehow, you had figured that, if you were to freak out during a session, it would be during a scene that was elaborate and intimidating, not one with simple restraints and light impact play. Obviously, you were wrong.

The night had been quite intense, but very, very pleasurable. Marshall had guided you through multiple orgasms and, eventually, you found yourself in subspace. It wasn’t the first time and you enjoyed the dreamlike, floating feeling, losing yourself in the sensations your dom provided, rooted in your connection, in the trust you had in him. No anxieties, no overthinking, just you, surrendering yourself to him. But then, out of nowhere, something shifted. It was subtle, almost like a fleeting shadow in your mind, but it was enough. You couldn’t exactly tell why, though. But suddenly, your peace shattered, replaced by an intense rush of confusion, vulnerability and fear. Panic surfaced, and you found yourself using your safe word. Or rather, screaming it, before you could even fully process what was wrong.

As soon as you called « red », Marshall froze and stopped everything. In seconds, he was freeing you from your restraints, kneeling beside you. He pushed your hair out of your face. You were shuddering, feeling both cold and hot at the same time and, overall, a sweaty mess. « You’re safe. I’ve got you », he said softly, in a low voice, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. As your body began to come down of the intensity, you felt a crushing weight of emotions you didn’t understand. He tried cupping your face, as he had done thousands of times before, but you immediately pulled away. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling more vulnerable than ever. « I-I don’t… », you trailed off, your words stuck in your throat as your thoughts swirled, completely detached from the clarity you had felt just minutes earlier. Your dom stayed quiet, giving you some time, though you could feel his concerned, even if you didn’t look at him. « It’s ok if you’re not ready to talk. Take your time. That’s alright. We’ll go slow», he said gently. You nodded and tried to steady your breathing, but you could feel yourself dipping further into a haze of doubt and discomfort— subdrop. You had read about it but had never imagined it would feel this intense. In the past, you’d felt a need for some comforting aftercare following sessions with Marshall, but this was different. You could still feel the weight of his touch, the sound of his voice, and it left you confused, even fearful in a way that didn’t make sense to you. Marshall slowly got up and grabbed the fuzzy blanket that was at the foot of the bed, gently wrapping it around your shoulders, making sure not to touch you directly. Then, he grabbed a bottle of water from his nightstand and handed it to you. « This is for you. You don’t have to talk just yet. Just breathe, ok ? » he instructed.

The warmth of the blanket seemed to help, and you managed a small sip of water, focusing on grounding yourself. Marshall didn’t move, staying within sight but giving you the physical space you visibly needed. Everything in his calm demeanor suggested he’d been there before, and that it was not exactly unknown territory for him. His gaze was gentle, watching you carefully but without pressure. Gradually, the silence grew less tense, and your heartbeat slowed. You looked up at him, catching his eye for the first time since you had used your safe word. He looked concerned but relaxed, his expression one of patience and kindness. You could see that he was stressing out a bit, too, as if he was afraid he’d done something wrong. « Marshall, I… », you struggled, your voice just above a whisper, not even realizing you hadn’t used his title as you should have. As if your brain were unable to process it in that instant. « I… I don’t know what happened. I was… scared. But I’m not sure why », you tentatively explained. He nodded thoughtfully, reaching forward and resting his hand beside you, close without touching. « That’s ok. Sometimes, things come up and you don’t know why. It happens. But you don’t need to understand it all right now, alright ? And I’m here to help you through it », he said in a reassuring tone. « I’m sorry », you mumbled, almost feeling ashamed. He shook his head and held your gaze. « No need to apologize, doll. You didn’t do anything wrong and, in case you need to hear it : I’m not mad. I don’t want you to feel bad for using your safe word. Ever. You did well », he assured you. You nodded and let out a small sigh of relief. « Well… Thank you for stopping » you said. He let out a low chuckle and gave you a smile. « That’s what safe words are for. You’re safe with me, Y/N. Always », he said.

The two of you sat in silence, your breathing slowly returning to normal. He was sitting quietly beside you, giving you some time. Gradually, your shoulders began to relax, though your hands were still curled in tight fists, gripping the blanket as though it anchored you. After a while, he softly cleared his throat. « Is it ok if I touch you? Just to hold you for a bit? » he asked in a low and gentle voice. You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for reassurance. His question, simple and respectful, made you feel safer. You nodded slowly. « Yeah. Ok. » you whispered. Moving carefully, Marshall slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close but without any hint of pressure. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace begin to ease the ache in your chest. His arm settled lightly around you, his other hand reaching to softly hold yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. « I’ve got you. You are safe » he murmured. « Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise ».

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. His voice held a warmth you didn’t known you needed until you heard it—a quiet reassurance that made you feel grounded. The simple comfort of his steady, gentle touch was like an anchor pulling you back from the drift of emotions you couldn’t quite control. « Thank you », you whispered, your fingers finding his. You let your head rest on his shoulder while his fingers traced soothing patterns against your skin. Both of you remained silent for a while, his quiet presence easing the rawness you were feeling. His breaths were steady and rhythmic, encouraging you to slow down and match his pace. After a while, he finally spoke again. « Do you think you can talk? I need to make sure you’re alright », he said. You nodded and he proceeded with some questions. « Are you feeling any physical pain right now? » he asked carefully. You shook your head before looking at your wrists. « Not really. I mean, the wrists but it’s not… really painful. Just stings. Like usual, I guess. Other than that, I’m just a little sore » you said thoughtfully. He nodded and gently inspected your wrists. The restraints had left some marks, mostly caused by your moving and tugging, but there was nothing really concerning. «And now that you’re a little more clear-headed, is there anything you remember that might have triggered you? Did I hurt or scare you? » he finally asked. You shook your head again. In truth, you couldn’t quite place your finger on whatever it was that went wrong. « No, you were great. You always are. It’s just… It felt so good. I thought I’d never come down. I didn’t want to. But suddenly I did and it was all too much, you know? ». He nodded and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. « Right, » he hummed. « I mean, subdrop happens for many reasons. But sometimes it’s just a chemical imbalance. You have these hormone levels that peak and when they drop, well… You drop too. And you can also have a peak of stress hormones. But it’s nothing to be scared of, doll. And I’m here. »

You nodded, grateful for his presence and the serenity he brought. He engulfed you in another embrace, kissing your temple. The two of you lay back down for a minute as he held you, murmuring sweet words of praise and reassurance. When he could tell you were feeling better, more level-headed, he grabbed your hand and led you to the en-suite bathroom. It was a ritual by now : the two of you usually showered together, before he tended to any soreness or marks you could end up with. He held you close as you let the warm water pour over your bodies, washed your body and massaged your hair. When you were done, he wrapped you in a towel and handed you a glass of water and some aspirin that you drank while he applied some cream to take care of your sore muscles. He also gently examined the couple of bruised he had caused, kneeling in front of you to inspect them. « They’re not as bad as last time. We’re making progress » he softly hummed, causing you to chuckle as you remembered both of your faces when you had discovered the bruising he was referring to, some of which were still faintly visible. If there was one thing you’d learned about your body since you became his sub, it was that you bruised like a peach. He instinctively kissed the bruise on your thigh, causing you to squirm. « Sorry. Habits. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. » he apologized. « No, it’s your beard… Tickles. That’s all. The kiss was ok. Helps the healing, right? » you replied with a slight smile. He nodded and placed another playful kiss there, before proceeding to kiss all of your bruises, making you giggle in the process. He got up and cupped your face before kissing your lips. « Oops. Thought you had a bruise there. Guess it was a shadow » he said innocently. Of course, his charm offensive had you giggling like a schoolgirl, which you knew was the desired outcome. « I’ll leave you to do the whole hair thing and get dressed while I tidy up » he said before placing a last kiss on your temple.

You quickly blowdried your hair and went to put on your pajamas. Before getting dressed, you looked at your naked form in the mirror. You were used to seeing your reflection with hickies, bruises and various marks over your body. The view wasn’t surprising in the least. It had almost become usual in the past months so, most of the time, you weren’t phased by it. You even found it pleasing, in a way. Each mark was a physical reminder of the pleasure he gave you, of how good he made you feel, rewarding your submission with intense orgasms.

This time, though, as you took notice of them, it stirred something deep within you. You traced each one with your finger, wondering what this roadmap of your intense bedroom exertions told of you. You wondered how anyone would perceive them if you suddenly died and your body was to be found the next day. They’d probably peg you for some victim of domestic abuse. Except you weren’t. You had consented to everything that had left these marks. You had given Marshall your explicit, enthusiastic consent to hurt you, and you had enjoyed it. Suddenly, you felt like some sort of hypocrite. There you were, the annoying woman who never shied away from getting on her high horse to defend the cause of women, allowing a man to hurt you. He was your friend, had been for years. And yet, he was the one leaving all these marks, because you allowed him to see your vulnerability. You even served it to him on a silver plater, kneeling for him, surrendering your body and mind. And you liked it. As unsettling as the thought was, you craved it, the feeling of submission.

However, this had you wondering about the shift in your relationship. The friendship had been so steady for years and now, there were many changes going on all at once. You were so much more than friends and, usually, you didn’t care that the lines were blurred. You even enjoyed it. But when you really looked at it, the whole thing felt like a complex Venn diagram with layers of friendship, sex, emotional intimacy and power dynamic overlapping each other. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to sort it out. But who were you allowing to leave these marks all over you ? Your friend ? Your dom ? The man you slept with ? Or the one who charmed your heart and spirit ? A while ago, you would have been able to give a clear answer. To say that it was your dom who was doing it to you. But now, it was much more complex. Because the power dynamic was bleeding into the friendship, which bled back into the power dynamic, and both were made confusing by the sudden surge of emotional intimacy. And in the middle of it, you had sex, which belonged in all three categories. Marshall was doing it all : bringing physical benefits into your friendship, fucking you senseless as your dom, and making sweet love to you. And now, everything was blurry and unclear. He was the alpha and omega in all of that, carving a space for himself in all the spheres of your life, as dom, lover and friend, but where did that leave you ? What were you to him ? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and even deeper than that, a new fear settled in your chest. Marshall had become such an integral part of your life, so much so that you felt yourself holding your breath when you thought about the possibility of losing him. This space he occupied in your world was huge, almost overwhelming. What happens if it stops? If he decides he doesn’t want this anymore? Or if I can’t handle it?

You didn’t realize you were trembling until there was a gentle knock on the bathroom door. You turned and saw Marshall standing there, visibly wondering what was taking you so long. « Talk to me » he said in a reassuring voice, which felt like an invitation rather than an order. You took a deep breath, trying your best to summon the right words. « It’s all twisted », you said. He looked at you intently, waiting for you to elaborate, but you didn’t quite know how to put it. « What’s twisted, Y/N? » he asked carefully. You nervously gestured at the bruises that covered your naked body. « These. This. The fact that I’m letting a man hurt me. That I want it. I-… There has to be something wrong with me. I must be twisted. I must be messed up. » you blurted out.

Marshall shook his head gently, moving closer but keeping his hands at his sides, as if he was letting you control the space between you. « There’s nothing wrong with you, » he said softly. « Desire isn’t something that fits into neat, ‘normal’ boxes. It’s complex, and it’s different for everyone. It doesn’t make you twisted—it makes you human. » he continued. Though his voice felt like a balm, the other questions remained, as did the need for answers. « But it’s not just that. Because you’re the one I desire, but who are you? We were friends for so long and now we’re… this. But I don’t know what that is. What we are to each other...». He hummed, encouraging you to elaborate. « I know you’re over boxes and neat categories but… Are you my friend ? My dom ? Or something more intimate than those ? » you finally asked. He listened quietly and, when your eyes met his, you were met with a steady and reassuring gaze. « Yeah », he simply said. « So which is it? » you nervously asked, though his calm and reassurance did not waiver. « All of them. What we have… It doesn’t need a label. And I know it’s a bit complex but… It can be whatever we want or need it to be » he said softly. His words were grounding but you still felt the fear beneath it all. « But what if it stops? » you anxiously asked. « Because I’d lose so much. I’d lose my friend, my dom and… more. You’re such a huge part of my life, and I’m scared of what happens if we don’t work, if it becomes too much».

Marshall reached out, carefully grabbing your hand, holding it and stroking it. « I don’t ever want you to feel like this is all or nothing. I’m here because I care about you—deeply. I don’t want to give up our friendship, no matter what happens. If you ever want to go back to that, just as friends, I’ll be here. Or if you want to keep this dynamic, but take sex out of the equation—that’s fine, too. This doesn’t have to look like anyone else’s relationship. We can take our time. We can make it ours. », he assured you. You looked at him, letting his words slowly sink into you. « But what do you want? » you asked. He let out a soft sigh but kept on smiling. « I just told you what I want. I’ll break it down for you : whatever happens, I want us to be friends. That’s what matters most. The power dynamic that’s… that’s what works for me. That’s how I feel comfortable when it comes to intimacy. The rules, the boundaries… They make me feel safe. You know more than anyone that I suck at letting people in. So it’s what works best for me when it comes to being close with someone. Knowing I’m in control helps me navigate my trust issues. We’ve been friends for ages. We were already close. But now we’re closer. Both physically and emotionally, and I like that. But if you’re not comfortable with anything, we adjust. If you only want or need me as a friend, that’s cool. If you need me as your dom, that’s fine too. In whatever way you want. If you want the dynamic to be strictly platonic, no sex, touching kept to a minimum, no kissing, it’s possible too. It’s your choice. »

You sighed and nodded, sort of understanding where he was coming from. However, you couldn’t help but ask one last question. « And if I don’t want things to be platonic but don’t want the dynamic? ». He stared at you intently, rubbing the back of his neck. « That’s not how I work. As much as we’re friends, as comfortable as I am with you, I need structure. But if it’s that important… I guess we could adjust it. Do you want the power exchange to stop? » he asked carefully, and you could sense a hint of nervosity. You shook your head. « I don’t. I like our dynamic. And the rest, too. It’s just… I always thought it was a way to clear the noise in my head. But now, it’s becoming a part of it. Like… I know you said you care about me, and that we can adjust, but… It’s still confusing. Because even if I like it, right now, I don’t know how to address the person in front of me. Sir? Marshall? ». He chuckled and brought you closer to him, affectionately cupping your face. His face had softened and you could see a gentle smile at the corner of his mouth. « Whatever you like, doll. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Honorifics, titles… yeah, they can have a purpose, and they can set a tone, but they don’t change the substance of what we are » he explained.

You looked at him, uncertainty still clouding your eyes. « I just… I don’t want to mess it up, » you murmured. « I want to honor this new part of us, but at the same time, I feel like I’m trying to balance everything we’ve always been, and it’s… confusing ». He nodded in understanding, letting his thumb graze your cheek. His smile grew a little and he finally let out a chuckle. « Look, you can call me Sir when that feels right. You can call me Marshall when we’re just us, talking like this. And for all I care, you can even call me ‘Dumbass’ or ‘Old Man’ like you used to. » His eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief, and a grin broke across his face. « You’ve called me worse over the years, haven’t you? ». A reluctant smile tugged at your lips, a bit of the weight lifting from your shoulders. You thought of the years you’d spent as friends, all the teasing, the playful jabs. You’d called him every name in the book, from “Dumbass” when he’d done something stupid, to « asshole » when he was pissing you off, to “Old Man” whenever he pretended he couldn’t keep up with you. « Yeah, I have », you admitted with a faint chuckle. « See? » he replied, his tone gentle and light. « You’re not any sub, Y/N. You’re much more than that. And regardless of how you choose to call me, it won’t change the substance of what we mean to each other ».

You gave him a smile and couldn’t help but ask one last question, a playful smile tugging at your lips. « So… Does this mean I can call you ‘Dumbass’ and not get punished? » you asked in an innocent voice. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. « Fuck around and find out, princess » he replied with a suggestive smirk. You raised an eyebrow, ready to make a witty reply but he rolled his eyes again pretended to sigh. « You’re impossible. We’re not even done with aftercare and you’re looking for trouble already » he said with a smile. You let out an innocent giggle. « Aren’t we done, though? » you asked with a hint of seriousness. He shook his head and grabbed your hand before pulling you to him. « You know, aftercare is not just for subs. Doms need it too. There’s no need to be self-centered, here » he said with a soft grin. You hummed and looked in his eyes. « What do you need, then, Sir? » you asked in a tone that was both suggestive and reverent. He gave you a grin and led you to the bedroom. « Cuddles » he calmly hummed, as if the answer was evident. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, resisting the urge to tell him that all he needed to do was ask, instead of using the aftercare excuse. You settled in bed and he gestured for you to come into his arms. « Indulge me, will you? » he asked and you couldn’t help but scoff. « Of course. For aftercare’s sake » you said in an innocent, yet sarcastic tone.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you let yourself melt into his warm embrace. It felt like you fitted there perfectly, as if you were meant to occupy that space into his arms and against his chest. « There we go » he murmured, almost whispering, as he stroked your back in soothing motions. « See? This doesn’t need labels. Just us. That’s what matters most to me ». You smiled against him and hummed, closing your eyes. « That’s nice » you admitted. You let yourself breathe fully, feeling a sense of peace settling in your chest, chasing away the earlier doubts you’d felt. The warmth and steadiness of Marshall’s arms around you made you feel safe in a way words couldn’t fully capture. You let the anxiety you’d felt earlier leave your mind and went back to enjoying the profound feeling of intimacy. Ever since your friendship had become more, you had grown closer and, as weeks had gone by, the cuddling had become more intimate. You could feel it in the way he held you and seemed to relax completely, the way he allowed himself to doze off, keeping you close, face buried in your neck. You let out a contented sigh, relishing in the intense feeling of safety and devotion.

« Thank you, Sir » you whispered in a barely audible voice. You could feel him smile against you, softly humming. « For what? » he asked. « For giving me so much » you tentatively explained, not sure you could actually put your gratitude into words. He hummed again and placed a tender kiss on your neck. « I know it’s a bit confusing for you. But it’s precisely because you’re my friend and my sub that I’m able to relax and put my walls down. I feel safe with you » he explained. « I’m grateful for you ». You turned and looked at him, staring in this blue eyes, seeing nothing but devotion there. In the years you’d known him, you’d learned about his trust issues, but hearing him tell you you made him feel safe when he was the person who made you feel the most secure was emotional. You knew intimacy didn’t come easy for him, even though it sometimes escaped your mind. As if he could read into your mind, he chortled and pulled you closer. « I’m grateful you signed that NDA, too. So you can’t go around and tell everyone I’m soft or whatever. That’d ruin my reputation and everyone would ask for cuddles » he joked. You chuckled and looked at him with a mischievous grin. Even without any NDA, you wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. You liked that he was like this with you, and you didn’t really want to share. « Your secret’s safe with me… Dumbass ».

#eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine #eminem kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober prompts #kinktober

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katiekatdragon27 · 2 days ago

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Guys you don't understand how much I love these two. (Oh yeah, and Finn's there too)

Glisten: Awww~ Shrimpo, you remembered Shrimpo: B*tch I'm in LOVE with you, of course I REMEMBERED! Glisten: What!? Wait really?? This is very sudden wow! (You said you were straight?) Shrimpo: AAAAAAAAAA

Finn: (yapping) Shrimpo and Glisten: SHUT THE F*CK UP, FINN!! Shrimpo and Glisten: ... Shrimpo and Glisten: (kissing)

The first comic takes place before the two started dating. Shrimpo is really really really bad at expressing emotions other than anger and frustration, so anytime he tries to express anything, he just blurts out his feelings without thinking. Then he gets second-hand embarrassment lol. Glisten was pretty aware that Shrimpo liked him before, but he's pretending to be surprised to make Shrimpo "feel better" (also to mildly embarrass him lol).

Also, I think that Shrimpo and Glisten bonding over hating Finn is very based and true. They need that autistic man to SHUT UP/silly

I think Shrimpo and Finn are very cousin coded. Not close enough to be siblings but definitely got some familial genes going on imo (plz don't shoot me Shrimpbowl shippers🙏🙏🙏) Doesn't stop Shrimpo from being violent towards Finn tho, and Finn does nothing to deter it lol (he finds it funny). Also, Glisten throws no punches bc he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.

Finn: Sooooo?? How was the daaaate~ Finn: No need to be such a clam about it! Shrimpo: I'M SO KILLING YOU!

The second image takes place the day after this post lol. Shrimpo is recovering from a hangover covered in lipstick kisses and super conflicting emotions and Finn is NOT helping.

On the other end, I've been thinking about Shimmer a lot lol. So here is a doodle of her with her "sister aunt" Toodles, and Pebbles.

They all get along super well. In this pic, Toodles is like 12ish and Shimmer is 4 (but her weird biology made her age up to like 7 here). Pebble is pebble, that's all you need to know.

Also, I was in a horror-ish mood earlier so here are some Twisteds <33 (below cut cuz kinda scary):

I love you angst comfort. My sib pointed out while playing one day that Shrimpo looked traumatized as a Twisted, which like, fair, but it make me think.

Glisten: "They say you are not here anymore. But I think you are."

I had this silly idea that Twisted Shrimpo was infected by Dandy personally, and that whole conflict got Shrimpo's lower jaw ripped off. He is very violent and volatile, and very hard to calm down. But, when he runs into a twisting Glisten alone and scared, he comforts him (to the best of his ability).

Since Glisten is still able to be somewhat conscious, he realizes that the Twisteds are actually not completely gone like he originally thought, and it helps him keep his sanity longer, hoping for a way out for everyone.

Willpower is a crazy thing.

On the complete opposite note, I love you horrifying freak of ichor child.

Since Shimmer was made from the ichor itself with no sort of skeleton or solid foundation, her condition is very unstable. And the problem is that her body is affected by her emotions. On a bad day, she can suffer from lots of pain and her body literally melting away. That's when she hides out and waits for her body to stabilize again.

When she completely twists, her body completely falls apart, becoming a puddle of ichor on the ground. If she was an encounterable twisted, she would work like Sprout's puddle root things, but easier to maneuver around and avoid. Also, her antenna glow.

Mini yap session aside, I think I cooked on the art lol.

Anyways, the og images lol:

Have a good one pookies!

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that-basic-simp · 3 days ago

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Shut The F**k Up

Vi x Fem!Reader CW: Swearing, angst WC: 1.3k+ A/N: This is the censored version. The uncensored version is linked below! (It's because I am a bit uncomfortable with posting NSFW here on Tumblr.)

"Just shut the fuck up!" I pounded my fist onto the table.

The entire bar went silent as the loud thud overpowered the thunderous music. It even caused the jukebox to lose alignment on the record. Scratches could be heard as the song skipped a few seconds ahead. My breathing was heavy as I was just staring at the counter.

"You alright there?" someone reached over and tried to place a hand on my shoulder.

I turned and smacked their hand away, "Just peachy."

I grabbed the bottle of alcohol and stood up. I threw down some coins and stumbled out of the bar. Words fell from my mouth as I mumbled to myself. They were just incoherent mumbles until memories of what happened crept back into my mind. Were her and I something? Or was I just her fling? Just a hook up every now and again to forget her ex? Or did we actually have something? It was never brought up, never spoken between us. She just came into my apartment, drunk and bloody, and we spent the night together. She was rough, hard, something I couldn't get elsewhere. She made me feel alive in a long time. She gave me a reason to believe that life was worth living. Now with her gone, what is the point?

I took a long swig from the bottle and let the contents slide down my throat, heating my stomach up and making my entire body feel like it was on fire. I wiped the droplets from the corner of my mouth and let out a belch. Others turned, disgusted, while I just stumbled past them. I burst into my apartment and slammed the door closed. I didn't take one step and I stumbled onto my bed.

"Jeez, and I thought I would get bad."

I shot up and looked around. That jet black, poorly dyed hair, that stature and build, that tone of voice. Was she really here? Or was the alcohol making me hallucinate?

"V-Vi?"

She turned and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hey, little dove."

It's been a while since I heard that pet name come from her. One of our drunken escapades resulted in us going towards topside one early morning to watch the birds. While I was still conscious of my thoughts, I pointed out the birds to her and told her what kind they were. I told her I loved doves and that was where the nickname came from.

"You're still here? In Zaun?"

"Yeah. I am."

"I would have figured you went back up top when your ex came down here."

"Well, things were figured out and turns out, our paths diverged from one another's."

"I could have told you that. You're running around with a Piltie and you thought it was going to work out?"

"Like what we had was something."

"Was it? Or was I just your rebound? Someone to make you forget of your troubles?"

"We never established anything."

"You're one to talk, leading me on and then just leaving without so much as a goodbye."

"We never had anything."

A knife to the heart. In her case, a fist to the face. I bit my inner lip and let out an exasperated sigh.

"So," I tried not to let my voice crack. "What we had, was nothing?"

She shook her head, but then shrugged.

"I-I don't know."

"You just said we never had anything."

"I'm starting to doubt that."

"Did you have something going on between you and that Piltie?"

"I don't know about that either."

"Then what do you know? I can tell you," I stood up and walked towards her. "All you know how to do is get into someone's face, get into someone's business, and just fuck shit up."

I was mere inches from her now.

"I thought you were going to be a great person, you know. You were hard to like at first, but after we went around and screwed over some people for fun, and now you're here screwing me over, that's just sad, Vi, even for you. All I can see now is you don't think with this," I jabbed my finger harshly against her forehead. "But with these," I reached down and grabbed her bandaged fists.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you think at all," I scoffed.

A scowl appeared on Vi's face as she just stared into my eyes with those powder blue eyes. Some remnants of that black face paint were still on her skin.

"Maybe that's why you can never keep the people you love and care about around."

That was what caused to break the camel's back. In a flash of black and a bit of red, Vi's hands grabbed my wrists and pinned me to the bed. Her lip was pulled back in a growl as her face was just mere inches from mine once more.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"Make me," I said.

She harshly pressed her lips against mine. I let her in like the night she accidentally came into my apartment thinking it was hers. She let out a bit of a moan, probably tasting the alcohol on my tongue. My arms wrapped around her neck as I dug my hands into her hair. I grabbed a clump of it before I yanked it a bit too hard. In return, she bit on my lip a bit hard to where it drew blood. I pushed her away and ran my index finger over my bottom lip.

"What the fuck, Vi?"

She just smirked and ran her tongue along my bottom lip before she placed her lips back onto mine. I couldn't deny her. That was probably my problem in this situation. She gave me attention and was good to me now that I think about it. She never once tried to hurt me when I was intoxicated. She tried to sober me up before we started anything so she knew I was aware of what was going on. And I took care of her. After her matches I would wash the blood from her knuckles and anywhere else she got blood on herself. I'd make sure she ate and drank before and after each fight. On nights she would indulge a little too much in the alcohol, Loris and I took her back to her place. Or if it was just me, I brought her back to mine. We were more than this, weren't we?

I pulled away and furrowed my eyebrows at her. She caught on and pulled away, sitting beside me. We both let out disappointed sighs. Not at each other, no. Just at ourselves for letting us get like this. So heated with emotions that it drives us to be near one another.

"What are we, Vi?" I asked.

She shrugged, "I-I don't know. I-I'm sorry I can't answer that."

"Of course you can't answer it," I reached down under my bed and grabbed another bottle of alcohol.

I pulled the cork off and started to down it. Vi reached over and grabbed it from me mid drink.

"H-Hey!" I wiped the liquid from my chin.

She took a long swig before she spit it out.

"The fuck is this?"

"Don't complain about the alcohol since it's not yours," I snatched it back.

"I can't go back to my place."

"Why? Someone else take it?"

"Yeah," she said shyly.

"O-Oh."

"Yeah."

"Maybe if you actually took care of yourself for once--"

"This again?"

"You left me, Vi!"

"I left a lot of people. I left the people I cared about and look what happened. I fucked up."

"No shit."

"Gee, thanks for rubbing salt into the wound."

"We all fuck up, Vi."

"You don't know what fucking up is," she shook her head.

"Actually, I do."

"Really? Do tell."

"I fucked up the day I let you into my life. I took you in because I thought you were just lost and broken. Turns out, you're just fucking stuck in the past and running away from the things you can't beat with your fists."

Vi went silent. That was when I knew I made things worse. There would be days where we'd argue and she'd leave and not come back for almost a week on end. Then I'd find her in an alley slumped over with bottles beside her. And a stream of vomit.

"Vi, look I--"

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" she turned towards me.

"Only when you make me," I smirked.

"I'll do more than just that," she pinned me to the bed once more.

Link to the uncensored version

#vi arcane #arcane vi #vi x reader #vi x fem reader #arcane

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respectthepetty · 1 day ago

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Joke's (Sad) Face

This post is about Joke's face.

But it's not about his actual face.

It's about his Joker face.

While Joke was surrounded by Jack's blue at the hospital, I just couldn't stop thinking about how pretty War is.

Which is why it's so tragic that his character, Joke, spends so much time being sad.

He has been sad since the very beginning and has remained in this state throughout the series.

Which is probably why he created the red Joker moniker.

A joker is a trickster. A joker is similar to a jester. A joker should be happy.

But Joke is anything but happy and his sadness began when he was child who couldn't cope with academic stress, so he began to use the sad face.

Then a kid he never met fixed his frown and turned it upside down. Jack made him smile.

And years later, at a bar late at night, that kid would make Joke smile again.

By simply sitting with him.

Joke was sad about his life, and Jack told him that it was okay.

Then he told him to smile.

Because like I believe, War Joke is so beautiful when he smiles.

Jack, with his blue (spray bottle), has been wiping Joke's sadness away for years, even without knowing it.

And as Joke returned to his childhood home to all the sticky notes marked with red sad faces, he believed he would never be as happy as he was with Jack again.

The time Joke spends with Jack is the happiest of his life because Jack makes Joke happy, which is why Joke got the smiley face tattoo.

Because Jack was a truly happy kid when they first met, and gave that happiness to Joke.

But things change.

Joke's other tattoo is of a dual smiling face and sad face, and when Joke approached Jack after five years, he said he wanted to bring back the old Jack. After that encounter, Jack asked his grandmother if he had changed to which she responded that he couldn't stay a kid forever.

Jack let Joke escape in the fashion event. Jack was blamed for the necklace being stolen, yet showed up to the hotel to help Joke. Jack put himself in the way during the fight to keep Joke safe. Jack always turns the worst situations around and has sacrificed parts of himself as a result.

So Jack is darker now. He is no longer blue. He is black. He can't be Joke's source of happiness when he is struggling to find the good in life himself, so while Joke is in the hospital surrounded by Jack's blue with family and friends, Jack sits alone wearing a red shirt with one tiny lamp to give him warmth.

Jack has his grandmother, who blends both his and Joke's colors, but she's all Jack has ever had, and now she cares for Joke just as much as she loves Jack.

And this is a point Aran made in the very beginning and Hope repeated this episode — Jack, just like Save, doesn't really much. He doesn't have options. Joke does. Jack had to do what he had to do to survive and keep his grandmother safe, but Joke gets to return home to a family and a room that has been kept spotless. Jack doesn't. Well, not if he doesn't fight for it.

And that's what hurts. Jack has to fight for everything. So even though Joke has done a lot for Jack, Jack has done just as much for Joke. He gave Joke a place to stay, food to eat, friends, family, and happiness when Joke had nothing to give and nowhere to go. Jack himself has nothing, yet still gave Joke everything he has had to fight for, including his limited happiness and even the last bits of his color.

So it's important that the episode showed Joke not only giving Jack his color, but also his happiness. Joke has finally turned his sad face into a happy face, on his own.

Joke is depressed, and for so long, because of that, he believed that he couldn't be a source of happiness. Yet on this journey, he has brought happiness to his friends, grandma, and countless people along the way, so here he is, not only giving his color to Toi Ting and Jack, but also his happiness.

Jack has never wanted to see Joke's sad face, which is why he gave Joke his happiness.

And now that Joke is realizing that he is happiness, hopefully Jack never will.

But they'll have to fight for it first.

#jack and joker #u steal my heart #I could never hate Jack #because he has given so much #including his color #he has turned Joke's face upside down several times #they are a balance #and if I could have more than thirty images‚ this post would have proven this #but thirty images limits what I can argue #the colors mean things #which I couldn't even get to all the colors!#color coded boys in love #BECAUSE THEY SHARE THEIR COLORS!

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thelunarfairy · 16 hours ago

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The Shadows of Doom

I've been waiting for evidence so I could make this post, although many signs were present and I've mentioned it in some posts here and there, we can now clearly talk about the new vision about the twins.

It's not news that the entity is an evil supernatural and it's also not news that most people don't give this creature the attention (and blame) it deserves.

We now see an adult Amane who has become a "serial killer", and well, everyone agreed that Amane is not the culprit, it's the entity that is controlling him.

Yes, that's true. Amane can't even remember that he was controlled and probably has no idea that he killed so many people, that's because he was used as a shell. He's just the body that the entity needs to attract its victims.

And yes, this is not exclusive to the new reality.

The difference is that in the old reality Hanako is sealed and the entity doesn't have as much power over him as in the new reality.

So, how about we talk about Tsukasa?

Tsukasa never feared the entity and he sacrificed himself to save Hanako, I know you know that, but even though the boy had this "bond" with the entity, they worked together for a goal.

Tsukasa never did things for the entity because he liked it or what it did, he wanted to save his brother.

But why does Tsukasa seem to be more conscious than Amane?

Because of the partnership.

Tsukasa does what the entity asks, which means that it doesn't need to control and force him, because he will do it.

He talks casually with the entity, as if they were close friends. He isn't afraid of anything, so Tsukasa doesn't need to be manipulated or controlled, he does what he has to do.

But does he seem happy about it?

Hanako fights the entity, so he is controlled and forced to do things he doesn't want to do.

Tsukasa chooses not to be against the entity, as if he knows it's not worth it, and he does what the entity demands, even if it's something bad.

The entity has influence over the twins and at many times I saw Tsukasa behave in ways that didn't seem like he was "himself".

Even though he was conscious and remembered everything, it seemed like the entity was controlling/influencing some of his actions.

The dark eyes reflected in him

In the same way that the same eyes are reflected in Amane's eyes at the exact moment the entity takes possession, not only of the twins but also of Kou, give us a clue about some of Tsukasa's behaviors.

Even Sakura knows what that dark eyes means.

So, if we compare, the Amane of the new reality is a serial killer now, but it's not exactly him. The boy is just a shell that is being controlled by the entity, it's the entity that wants the deaths.

Why is Tsukasa, who has always had the entity inside his body, still considered a "psychopath", and when Amane kills MANY people, he is just the boy who is being "controlled?".

I have this answer, perhaps because of the self-awareness he has after doing certain things or allowing the entity to do them, while Amane wakes up from something confusing that takes his memories temporarily, Tsukasa is always awake and conscious.

But the difference between the twins is precisely in the concept of accepting or persisting.

Hanako is the type who insists a lot, he hardly lets something he likes "free from him", we saw this in the actions he did with Tsukasa and Nene, he is extremely persistent.

Tsukasa is the opposite, he is free and allows the freedom of the people important to him.

While Hanako is fighting with all his strength against the entity and trying to save Tsukasa, Tsukasa just allows the entity to do what needs to be done.

The entity is a difficult creature to destroy, it's as if Tsukasa had realized that it's not worth fighting against. In addition to, of course, the entity's own influence here.

As Tsukasa always values freedom, the boy who has lived imprisoned since he was four, either because of the house and the entity or because of the boundary and Yorishiro's connection with Hanako, he wants freedom and values it.

Therefore, he gives the entity the freedom it needs, even when Tsukasa has no wishes to make anymore. He just wanted to save his brother and he would stay in the red house, doing what the entity wants.

One fights and the other accepts.

The entity possesses and controls whoever fights against it, and partners with whoever stands by it.

But in the end, the goal of this thing is always the same, to kill people.

What defines whether they are like the entity or not is how they react to it, and clearly, they are both not happy.

In the end, the entity will necessarily possess both of them, the difference being that one does not fight against the influence of the entity and the other does, and both will have to do what the entity tells them to do.

Both will kill or cause death, whether they like it or not.

There is no option.

The entity is like a shadow of doom, the price it charges for a wish is too high for anyone to pay.

Obviously, I'm not going to take away the guilt that the twins have for the choices they made, the suffering they caused to other people, and the mistakes they made over time (and still make) to this day.

But let's be fair and say that the entity has a direct link in the behavior of both of them.

If the entity didn't exist, the twins would be two normal kids, like everyone else.

I wonder if it would be like that.

*This is an analysis of the characters' behavior, not my direct opinion on it, but an evaluation based on their actions throughout the story, remember that this analysis may be incorrect, but, with the information we have so far, it's a small observation that I thought would be interesting to share.

#tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #hanako kun #amane yugi #aidairo #yugi twins #hanakokun #jshk spoilers #tsukasa yugi

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