#SOMETHING. DON'T LET THEM ASSUME THEY AREN'T GOOD ENOUGH

[thrashtrashh]

[DELTARUNE CHAPTER 3 and 4 SPOILERS AHEAD (WEIRD ROUTE INCLUDED)!!!] STRANGE, STRANGE TRACKS

There's a weird thing I noticed with the release of Chapter 3+4's soundtrack, and its that some of its tracks aren't stylized with uppercase letters. What I mean is that, in most songs, you'd start with an uppercase letter for each noun in the title like "The Third Sanctuary" for example. However, there are a few songs in the Chapter 4 OST (and only Chapter 4) that aren't stylized like that, and instead the nouns after the first word are all in lowercase. This could just be a mistake, but its consistent throughout every soundtrack release, Spotify, Soundcloud, YouTube, Bandcamp (update: not on Apple Music as was pointed out to me in the comments by kysafe, but it looks like most song titles on Apple Music were improperly capitalized, as is the case with all capital songs like ANOTHER HIM and GUARDIAN), so I don't think it's a silly mistake.

I think that these tracks mean something.

Let's take a look at the tracks first:

- Old wooden rafters - Another day in hometown - The distance between two - Wise words - Piano that may not be played that well - Need a hand?! - The place where it rained - Concert for you

As you can see, those are a lot of tracks. Way too many for it all to just be a coincidence. So what could it all mean? Well, I've got a couple of thoughts.

1. Anagrams, Toby's favorite thing

This was my first thought when seeing this whole thing. It could be an anagram for something. While skimming through the tracks at first, I missed "Wise words" so I was initially left with the letters O, A, T, P, N and C, each corresponding to the first letter of the song titles. I noticed that it could spell out something similar to "CONTACT", although a C was missing. That's when I skimmed through the tracks again and found Carol's theme, simply titled C, the only track that's just a singular letter of the alphabet, so it was good enough to me at first to. This can give us something like "CONTACT P", as in "CONTACT PLAYER". It was an interesting thought that was however swiftly debunked, or alternatively, dunked into the nearest trash can, when I noticed that "Wise words" had that same improper capitalization, so there was a W in the mix, leaving me with O, A, T, W, P, N, C. This could've led me to a lot of places, but the anagram that stuck out to me the most is "PAWN TO C" as in, a pawn to C Holiday. Carol. This ties into my second thought.

2. This is Kris communicating to us

Kris has to live with us controlling their actions. Sure they can rip us out of their body, but for some reason, they won't talk or interact with anyone as long as we're not with them (except for the Chapter 4 Weird Route, where they bring Berdly to the hospital and apologize to Noelle while we're not looking). We basically stripped them from any means of expressing themselves. Almost. There's that scene where they play the organ without our input in the Church's Dark World, and also when they think we're still trapped in the vent room, where they go up to the Holiday's piano in the kitchen and play some rocking tunes. Music is how they express themselves. And I believe that it's their only way to communicate with us: through the literal soundtrack of the game. This might be weird, considering that while some of these tracks ARE heavily personal to Kris (the Church, Dess, Hometown), two of them are not related to them at all, those being "Wise words" and "Need a hand?!", which are Gerson related.

However, this might as well be Gerson talking to us as well. He's one of the most knowledgeable characters we've ever met, with an awareness of the world only rivaled by Flowey. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to assume that he's talking to us, the player directly, especially since one of the tracks is literally named "Need a hand?!" not a question to Kris, Susie or Ralsei, but to us, the player, being as confused on how to defeat the Titan as the rest of the cast, if not even more confused. This leads me to my final thought.

3. Kris and Carol are in cahoots

It seems pretty obvious, considering that at the end of the Chapter 4 weird route, we get a call with Carol's voice blip, and also the fact that right after the phone call between Kris and the strange voice in the kitchen, Carol comes barging into the house. We also see how close they are through Carol's dialogue with Kris, telling them that they can come whenever they want. But this message "PAWN TO C", sheds a better light on their relationship. It probably isn't mutually beneficial. It probably isn't something that Kris wants to be a part of at all. Kris is a pawn to Carol Holiday, and they're also a pawn to us, the player. They've spent the better part of their life being controlled by forces outside of their control, the Mayor of the literal town/mom of their childhood friend (and for the better part of their life only friend), and an incomprehensible entity controlling them from across space time/us the player.

I don't know if that could fuel the theory that Carol is the Knight, but I just thought it's something interesting to note. I haven't seen anyone else post about this, so I hope I'm the first one to do it. If not, then oh well, that's just how cowboy shows go I s'ppose...

(edited for better clarity)

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Creepy!yuu and Victim!reader in TWST.

Summary: Okay, from where I left off, the reader had tried unaliving themselves (but guess who got transported the last second they were about to taste freedom?) In short, you and Yuu had gone to TWST not only that but Yuu still played as 'you' and ended up charming them to turn on you, spreading rumors, and making believable stories, horrifyingly enough, they knew how to act and turn the tables on to you. But, since this is non-yandere, they aren't THAT stupid.

...Unless your talking about their affection for Yuu after their overblot (depends)....

A/n: my motivation is so sloppy what the heck, I am going to church tmrw (Sunday) so the asks in my drafts will be postponed a little more (oh god, another preaching thing again....), oh and one more thinggg, I'm ending this part to Pomefiore, my lazy ass can't keep writing anymore my mind is so empty😔😔💔

Tags: @fancyhawk45

Idk, they requested it ig??? I mean like, fics are making me tired so I wanna try imagining with my anons.

How TWST Cast treats you.

Riddle:

Okay, maybe he wouldn't like, turn his whole dorm against you? Listen, he's not sure whether Yuu is telling the truth or not, but he'll make sure to keep an eye on you. A part of him thinks Yuu is strange, with the way they've constantly spoke about you. Don't they dislike you? Why do they keep talking about you so much? Then Yuu says, "They've been following me, forcing me to be with them, so all my entire life I had been constantly surrounded by them. It was an every day routine of mine to talk about them, since they liked that and pestered me into talking about them, and them only. Even going so far as to erase my 'self' so I could act like them a little more..." yeah, some stupid excuse Yuu came up with.

Did he believe it? Quite a bit. Don't get him wrong! He just doesn't know if this is some morbid excuse, until he saw Yuu flinching whenever your around.

He disliked you, but not so much. He has suspicions, but doesn't want to assume. So all he does is sternly scold you, but sometimes his words are so harsh you had assumed he was out to bully you like the rest. If he knew about your situation, he'd be sorry. But for now?

"[Name], Yuu isn't stalking you. You are just paranoid, they are not that kind of person at all. Yuu is a good person with morals, you shouldn't blame Yuu just because you are jealous of their popularity." But you never wanted popularity, you wanted someone to understand the situation you were in.

And most of them wouldn't help. Yuu saw you talking to Riddle... Come, let's talk privately after this, yes?

Trey:

He wouldn't get what was going on at first. When he met Yuu and you for the first time, something in his gut told him something was wrong. He didn't know what exactly. Maybe it was the way you glanced Yuu blankly or the way you looked like you were pleading for something to happen or, pleading for someone?

Either way, he was perceptive. He can say that there is something between the relationship with you and Yuu. It was creepy on how Yuu often looks at you whenever your around. This guy notices that you often avoid others whenever Yuu is around, so maybe he tries to talk to you through private means, and that'll also mean he'll avoid talking about this to Yuu, just in case. He suspects there's more to Yuu's character but from now on, he should be careful with who he speaks with. Yuu seems empty, their eyes, he meant.

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't talk to Yuu anymore. That'd make him suspicious to Yuu, so he'll sneak in a few treats for you every time there's an unbirthday party going on. He would seem like he wouldn't believe you, but trust me, he needs the evidence first before assumptions, and he can't talk to you since you seem afraid of him, and Yuu keeps blocking the way every time he tries.

"What do you mean 'Yuu is stalking you'? I'm sorry, I don't know whether your lying or not, but I'll find a way soon. For now, keep a low profile in front of Yuu, yeah?" Oops, Yuu caught 'you'.

What did they say last time? Guess they'll need to drill it in your head.

Cater:

Listen, as far as I know, especially when it had been shown and stated many times, Cater is perceptive. He hides his emotions well and often covers it with humor. Maybe emotionally depending on the internet as well? (I'm projecting on this part, ignore this) Either way, he's self-aware and he knows creepy vibes when he sees one.

When he first met Yuu, it was subtly obvious to him that something IS wrong with Yuu. The way they talk sounds rehearsed or copied in a way. Mimicry? But he sees the way Yuu acts. It never sits right with him. What for? He doesn't know, but he knows this is a lie. He won't fall for the act and would rather be a bit distant with Yuu, he'd even try to find reader, who is basically now scared shitless of what will happen if they talk to another person again, Yuu tries to convince him to leave Yuu alone, and when he does, Yuu even feeds him lies that he can clearly see through. He doesn't know the relationship you two have but whatever it is, it concerns him. Not much, but enough to feel quite bad for not helping. Sorry, he just doesn't know what to do.

Worse part is, he can't even talk to you without you scurrying off like he's some serial killer! How is he supposed to have any evidence on Yuu if the proof keeps running away??? Sigh, guess he'll come back for you later.

For now, he'll have his eyes and ears on the look out without telling anyone.

Ace:

Okay, for him... Ace isn't the smartest, but not the dumbest either. Humor is coping, and lying effortlessly is one of his many talents, I'm not saying he's lying to Yuu, but more like what he feels. So, at first he never felt suspicious about Yuu, it just felt off when Yuu looks so distant, yet acts so close.

So it was like Ace was talking to a stranger than a friend. Well, not really? Just Yuu feeling distant, to him, at least.

But he can't help but look at you, the person who's constantly behind Yuu's back. What good can you do? You've always ran away, even at the slightest interaction. Why? And you keep glancing at Yuu everytime they talk about your bad deeds while your in the distance. Yes, he noticed you were hiding behind the tree or right around the corners in the hallways whenever Yuu spoke about you. And it's annoying, really. Yuu only ever talks about you, and barely talks about themselves. What is the matter with Yuu and you? Both of you are so weird, to be honest, he wouldn't really be surprised if one of you was a serial killer. Haha! He's joking, but seriously, it is mad concerning that you run away from him whenever he tries to approach you,-

Why was Yuu looking at you like that?

Deuce:

Okay, Deuce isn't really the smartest in the shed, but he's got the spirit? I have not much to say about Deuce except for his confusion. The terror in your eyes reminds him of the times where he was still a delinquent and terrorizing others. Did he do something wrong? Yet, that didn't seem like the case, you've always done that when Yuu is near, and when Yuu isn't around, you'd look around twice to check if Yuu is no where to be seen before talking to him. Hey, why did you bully Yuu before? Did something happen between you two? Yet, when those questions came out of his mouth, you seemed scared in a way, not in a "I've been caught" way, but something more? It was then you quickly left as if sensing someone, not before warning him, "Yuu isn't the person that you see..." before running off, Yuu appears just in time to find Deuce standing akwardly,

What do you mean by that?

Leona:

Do you think he'll give two shits to you??? Nah, at least, not at first. He'd think your some paranoid freak that looks over their shoulders constantly. Yet, he can't help but feel unsettled as well. Whenever he looks or interacts with you, even just a little bit or unintentionally, either you avoid him and run off like a scared prey, or Yuu comes in to interrupt or block him. Seriously, what the fuck is going on with you two? Yuu explains that although you were their bully, you tend to run away from guilt. Leona sets it off and decides to leave you alone, not becaue what Yuu had said, but because it's disturbing. And he wants sleep, so there's that.

It wouldn't make sense in his head, why is Yuu protecting you if you were their bully? He knows there's something off-putting in Yuu's words, something reversed but he doesn't have any proof to say anything about it, nor will he care to lift a finger for it. But one day, he was walking past Ramshackle for whatever reason, and saw both of you talking, not in a pleasant way, though. Your eyes looked petrified and your body was shaking, like some weak prey in the jaws of a predator. Yuu was talking about something, but clearly, it wasn't a good one,

That is, until Yuu's eyes flicker at Leona's.

They close the curtains, Leona is surprised they even saw him.

Will he help? Depends.

Ruggie:

No doubt he couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't trust Yuu, at all. Despite being indebted to them, he felt off when Yuu was around him, it never felt right. It never felt 'them'. But after the overblot? He must say, he is quite impressed with their thinking, it's sharp, too sharp.

So this is where he is now, hanging with Yuu, and keeping a close eye on them. It would've felt right, until he saw you. At first glance he never said anything to you, not ever. But when the octavinelle deal struck in? You look visibly shaken. You didn't want to sleep with Yuu or anybody else. You wanted your own privacy, and the way you've emphasized on wanting privacy, he couldn't help but think that has something to do with Yuu. So he keeps a close eye on them too, because he's not sure what Yuu is capable of. And not like he needs to know about that.

He's concerned, rightfully so. But he doesn't know you and you keep running away. So, how will he help if he isn't a friend or an acquiantence of yours? Not like he'll think like this too much, after all, it's your business, not his.

Did he just fucking saw Yuu smelling your hair while you were asleep in broad daylight? What the fuck...

Jack:

Dilemma going hard fr.

He doesn't know why, but he feels as though, Yuu is lying. But, he won't give in, he thinks of Yuu as a good friend, but whenever Yuu brings up you as the topic to 'vent'. Jack can't help but feel a tinge of jealousy, and also a weird sense that tells him Yuu is wrong.

It's like your best friend tells you that your other best friend is bad and talking shit about you, but the thing is, is that its a close friend so you dont know whether to drop them or just bawl your eyes out and keep them at arms length. Yeah, Jack's dilemma about this btw.

So, whenever he tries to approach you? You just run, for the fear of losing someone again, or... those photos. But, Jack kept on persisting, thing is, Yuu caught on and blocks him, or distracts him whenever he thinks about talking to you.

Was that a knife behind them? He sure hopes not, else he'll apprehend them.

Azul:

He kinda relates to the bullying thing, but he doesn't know that you were the victim and assumes it was Yuu who went through it since they understood him so well. If anything, Yuu was the victim, but he can't help but suspect it as a lie. But since Yuu has so much influence on these people, it is best to stick around until the truth spills over.

He can't get proof without it being shown somewhere in here. So, he'll get Jade and Floyd to be his eyes and ears. He's still a shady business man, after all. But he feels like Yuu has something up their sleeves, like they have something he doesn't know or want to know about.

Whatever Yuu hides, he needs to find out, it's a fair trade, you see? He gets to know you and Yuu, while you and Yuu gets to know him, and sign a contract if things get serious.

Something bothers him, is the fact Yuu had once said something about your... body? Ah, Jade, he wishes that Jade would've said it in a lighter tone, instead of saying it in excruciating detail.

Wait... what the fuck do you mean by the prefect doing that?-

Jade:

I'd say... he knows something about Yuu stalking you. But it is just a gut feeling. He doesn't know the exact things Yuu does, but he does know that Yuu's fascinating behavior is driven with a more obsessive motive.

And all that motive leads to the elusive you. You, who barely been seen talking to anyone but Yuu, despite their claims of a toxic relationship, you seemed more meek than Yuu, is he really sure what Yuu had said was true? Hm. Then again, he never believed it, so it wasn't really a surprise.

He thinks this is amusing, with the fact Yuu uses a facade like any other students would. But that identity alone, something bothers him, is it really a personality Yuu created? Or did it belong to somebody else? What does Yuu gain out of this? What do they want, in order to do this? His bothersome doesn't mean he's off-put, more like a nagging questions are being thrown at him. When he had became Azul's ears and eyes, he had to take every mental note that there was something going on between the two of you.

And to be honest to himself, you do seem cute. A frightened little shrimp. Just as Floyd had said, you do curl up like one! He just thinks your fascinating.

A bit too fascinating than he anticipated, he doesn't know this feeling whenever Yuu blocks him from speaking to you, but even if he did evade Yuu, you would just run away.

Well, this will be an interesting chase.

Floyd:

You can't tell me he isn't smart, well not academically sure, but he can at least read the room (I hope so, my memory is just complete ass atp, helppp), he thinks Yuu is interesting, (hey, so what type of fish is cunning and sly?? I can't make a nickname for Yuu) as well as the scurrying shrimp! You both are so adorable, but obviously, Yuu is faking it while you, are genuine about it. Neh, neh~ is that all your traits? Are you just a scared shrimpy all the time?~ He's not stupid, he knows you wouldn't be scared for no reason.

Which is why, he wants to know more about you. He wants to chase you, and squeeze you. Your interesting, if only you'd stop running. Don't do that! He'll get bored!

Till' he sees Yuu getting reallll close to your space, and you look uncomfortable too.~

He holds his breath until the day the truths spills out.

Kalim:

Okay, he might catch on if the signs were obvious (which, it kinda is) so Kalim will catch up later. And maybe, he'll approach and want to help you, but Yuu, again. Keeps blocking, and honestly? He can't help but feel something that he had never felt before, it wasn't fear. It wasn't anything like that. But, imagine someone pestering you to do something else you clearly don't want to and they still insist.

Yes, that feeling. Annoyance? Maybe. But still, Kalim IS human so he can feel annoyed /gen. And he is most likely trying to evade Yuu so he could talk to you, but you've managed to slip away in the crowds a bit too easily. The people under Yuu's influence are a hassle as well, especially when they block his path to speak with you, akways huddled up or cornering you. He really is worried on what could happen to you.

He really wants to talk to you, but you kept avoiding him, and even begged him not to speak with you.

The threats about your life is getting worse.

What? Hey!- wait, what do you mean by that!?- wait! Come back, please! He really wants to help!

What is Yuu telling you!?

The fact that, he suspects that you're a hostage to Yuu, he doesn't want that to happen.

Trust him, he'll save you with anything he can. Just wait for him, okay? He's not scared of Yuu, he had seen worse.

Jamil:

It is getting disturbing by the day, the fact that Yuu always tends to somehow drag him away from you, it bothers him. Is something the matter with you? No, it couldn't be. He has other things to do, and he shouldn't care about this. But, why does it feel wrong? He knows nothing about you, and he won't do anything about it until he has permission to.

Kalim had taken notice as well, so now he knows how serious it might be in the future.

Clearly, something is going on in Yuu's head, but he surely doesn't want to know, whatever is happening at Ramshackle's.

One night, he decided to drop off some leftovers because he thought you two woukd starve without dinner.

Imagine to his surprise when he saw something he shouldn't. Does he back away? Of course. But he doesn't have his phone. Nor can he tell to anyone since he knows Yuu has more influence on others more than him. Where is this coming from? He hasn't seen this side of Yuu. Or, has Yuu even shown their true colors, yet? Or if they even had any.

He'll help, especially if Kalim is worried about you, he is sure Kalim's request would be about helping you. So he has no say in it.

Did he just see Yuu picturing you from behind? Huh...

Vil:

Okay, so as I've mentioned before, I had hc Vil having stalkers in the past, because you know??? Celebrities' life ain't all that without consequences of being famously known to the world. So, I would say, Vil knows Yuu's strange behavior??? But, let's say, it wasn't clear enough since yk it could be another Rook. But, this one is different, with the way you flinch at loud sounds, especially with the banging noises or fireworks, similar to guns, you'd jump at the sound of it. Why would you, though? Vil doesn't have enough evidence to file a report about Yuu, but especially if Yuu is his 'friend'. Remember, Yuu will always find a way to manipulate things for their own benefit. But Yuu is more cautious around Vil. Yuu isn't completely dumb running around with their mouth filled with bad rumors, since Vil is a well known acter and star, Yuu needs to be careful with how they word things, it needed to be reasonable.

It wouldn't take long before Vil caught on later in their friendship. The reader had been kept hidden for long, long enough to bump into Vil one day, with a menacing stare a celeb could have.

He didn't mean to, of course. He is just curious about you. Not really.

Rook:

Okay, so as you'd expect, he knows something, not all, but something. The thing is, maybe Rook would surpass Yuu's presence detection. So, depending on the scenario you choose, Rook will try to befriend you because your like some hidden star to him.

And actually, I'm not good with hc him but... I feel like he would want to help you without Yuu's knowledge? Like, he hangs around Yuu, sure, but in the background, he's like, giving you company, you know? [It feels like Neige and Vil all over again but in a different scenario...]

It wouldn't be surprising if he knew both Yuu and you were... swapped. Like, you used to be like Yuu and Yuu used to be like you, in a way. Maybe, if he helped you get back to 'yourself' again, you wouldn't feel that empty need to be something once more.

He wants to help, me thinks...

But the thing is, idk how though, so I want you guys to imagine with me 😔🪽.

Epel:

Okay, so his character... uhm, Epel would fall for Yuu, since Yuu is using an identity that doesn't belong to them. More like, they try to fit in as the peoples desired person (which is why I used 'you' for the plot to continue-). To be honest, probably Epel genuinely thinks your the bad person here, since I don't know??? Please for the love of plot my brain is so mushed every time I look at the drafts- anyway, Epel would be like those typical bullies (maybe with Ace if he fell for the tricks as well?)

Sooner or later if he finds the signs, he'll maybe start doubting himself, on who he should trust. If others are doing the same, surely Epel will be in a conflict, not because he doesn't know whether he bullied someone innocent unintentionally, but also was siding with someone much sinister than they appear to be.

And hey, so uhm, is it normal when Yuu sneaks into your room unknowingly?

He thinks he's hallucinating that night, maybe not...

The End.

A/n: hoiii I'm so tired naman... but if any of you have any ideas on how to add more to their emotions and conflicts with their relationship between Yuu and Reader please do so!! I am running out of creative fuel🥹

[survivalist-toons]

As someone with low self-esteem. It is... especially important to comment on fics from writers who you either know are new or haven't seen before. I am new to the writing game, I want so badly to write stories. Make characters. But struggle with feeling "good" at it that I end up struggling to make future chapters. Like everyone else re-posting this, comments. Heck, not even just comments. Signs of appreciation that aren't public are enough to show writers both new and old that you loved their work. Keeping stuff private leaves empty space for the writers to think... And from someone with low-self esteem issues, that space to think can be filled really quickly with thoughts like "Am I losing it?" "Maybe I should do something else" "I'm not good enough." I know I struggle to post on here partly because I don't think I'm good enough. COMMENT, FANART, FANFIC. Do all who stumble upon this reposting-post-thing. DO SOMETHING TO SHOW YOUR LOVE FOR SOMEONES' WORK. Don't leave the writer/drawer/animator/etc alone with their thoughts. A sign of appreciation goes a long way.

someone I follow on the bird app just announced they’re starting a very exclusive private fic server because they and a bunch of other people want to talk about how much they love the fics they’re reading, and as an author can I just say that a really great place to talk about a fic you love is in the comments for that fic

I understand that people are trying to create safe spaces, but as the number of comments that I get on my fics dwindles with each passing year, knowing these spaces exist where my fics are being discussed, places that I am excluded from, makes me want to write fic LESS

I mean I guess who cares, right, because if I stop writing, there’s 10,000 other people that will continue…but if you participate in a fic “book club” server and you say nice things there about a fic you loved, maybe copy and paste that into a comment on AO3?

the only thing fanfic writers are asking for in return for hours of hard work is attention. please don’t rob us of the one thing that we hope for when we hit “post”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What about the Doors/Pressure shopkeepers trying to pretend they aren't giving their crush special treatment when in groups. Like, special inventory, discreet discounts, all that jazz

Jeff (Doors)

"Oye, I see what you're doin', Jeff. Thought you weren't one for giving out freebies."

*shrug*

"Don't play dumb! I saw you sneak the skeleton key into their bag! Even Bob's a witness!"

No matter what El Goblino says, Jeff will just wave off any accusations of him giving you "special treatment" whenever you stopped by the shop with your group.

While none of them donated to the tip jar, you were the only one who ever did...and even when you came back again and again, it was always you who showed him charity.

The rest of your group would just argue over what to spend their money on, try to rush ahead, mess with his radio, etc. etc.

But you trust Jeff, and he trusts you <3

So you get small discounts on his wares, and despite him not being able to speak, you could tell he's only looking after you.

The goblin jokes about Jeff's little "crush" on you...then he sees the entity's eyes widen and realizes "wait amigo,,I wasn't being serious do you actually like them?????"

He just shoos him away and will deny it to kingdom come, but it is true.

The moment you realized his feelings for you was when Rush attacked the shop once, and you thought you were done for-

When Jeff instinctively pulled you behind the counter and slammed the shutter down, keeping you uncomfortably close (yet somehow you've never felt safer).

When it's all over, he blushes and lets you go free.

You thank him with a small kiss on the forehead(?) and promise to see him again soon.

The next time you get duped by Dupe, or attacked by Eyes, Timothy, Screech, or a snare and need to heal...you discover a few bandaids in your pocket that weren't there previously...

Huh.

Wonder who gave you those?

Sebastian (Pressure)

Normally, Sebastian doesn't care to make personal connections with any of the expendables.

He's just there as their supplier before seeing them off on their journey, hoping they're putting his resources to good use.

But recently he's been seeing you more often, coming by with a new group or by yourself, trying your best to survive long enough to reach him.

Ofc, you've died to stupid things before (or maybe you're just trying to get all the monster documents..in which he's convinced you're some masochist), but you did have the most common sense out of your group and didn't try to annoy him.

The others just waste flash beacon charges on trying to blind the poor guy and stick the keycard in a medkit they couldn't afford...and for what?

Why do your "friends" do that? Are they stupid or something?

You tell them to stop, and it's...actually kinda nice to hear somebody willing to defend him.

People usually don't give a shit about the giant scary fish's feelings, yet for some reason you do.

Of course, Sebastian was reasonably suspicious about it.

"Are you acting this way just to get a freebie?" He assumes. "Because if you are, then you're definitely as stupid as-"

"No, I'd never do that to you." You shake your head. "You're here, helping us survive out there, risking a lot to get us those supplies...is it wrong for me to appreciate that?"

"......"

He goes quiet for a minute, but after the rest of your group leaves, he asks you to stay for a moment.

"You were looking at this Necrobloxicon for a while...you must reeeeally want it, huh?" He grins, flicking his tail where the book was strapped. "It's a rarity."

"I...can't afford that. I'm fine with this dingy flashlight-"

"It's yours for 70% off. Take it or leave it."

You do a double take. "Wait, wha-"

"70% off. Take it. Or leave it." He says through gritted teeth, impatient, only to smile when you accept the deal without further question. "Good. Now don't go telling anyone I'm offering discounts. That's your only one unless I feel generous. Capiche?"

"Gotcha. Thank you, Seb. This means a lot. I hope to see you again soon." You smile back, holding the spooky book tightly, and leave him alone with his thoughts.

And a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest-

Wait.

"Oh no....what the fuck am I doing????? That's it! NO more discounts for anyone, Sebastian!" He scolds himself.

Little does he know, he's gonna keep giving them out, but only for you.

[meo-eiru]

Day 5 of Character Trivia Night!

For tonight we have Theo

Theo has a human mother and a cyclops father, though his dad isn't really in the picture as his mom doesn't like to settle down and instead jumps from monster bf to monster bf

Since there aren't any schools for monsters his mom always sent him to human schools, which meant Theo was always around people who did not look like him

His skin is a bit greenish but they usually explain it as a sickness and he always keeps his bangs long to hide his eye, thanks to not having much of a presence as well he was able to go under the radar most of the time

But there was one time in elementary school when he wanted to try playing with the other kids and ended up accidentally showing his eye. His mom quickly moved them to another city and enrolled him into a different school before the news outlets could get their hands on the situation, so by now it's more like a legend of their old town

The experience was quite traumatic for him so now he makes sure to never ever let his eye show in public

Some people who don't know him assumes he's a gamer but he's actually very bad at games

Has no depth perception and wears single lens glasses (glass...?) to make up for it, but they are a bit ugly so he only wears them at home

He actually doesn't have an eyebrow

Due to his quiet and nerdy appearance there are rumors about him being a gamer in class but he's actually really bad at games

That being said he's really into movies, anything sci-fi more specifically. Especially ones about aliens

Maybe because they are often depicted green, or maybe because the focus is on them not being human, but growing up Theo felt a lot of kinship with the aliens he was on the screen and they became a way for him to cope with his own life

He's mostly terrible at cooking but can make fire lasagnas because his mom likes it and it was the one meal she actually taught him

If left alone he would mostly stay alive eating chips and other snacks

He favorite color is green but if he had to choose a second favorite he would say dark purple

The first item of yours he stole borrowed, because of his overflowing love, was the pen you forgot on your desk

Soon he started collecting whatever item he could find of you. Erasers, pencils, napkins, used straws, clothes....

He also likes to take your pictures and hang them on his ceiling and walls, looking at your face as he falls asleep helps him see better dreams

He never intended to make a shrine of you but the items he stole from you and hid in his closet are starting to form the shape of a shrine and he might've added in some fake candle totally not because he wanted to make it more shrine light but because his closet just needed some more light

He's surprisingly good at drawing. He always enjoyed sketching colorful and quirky monster like creatures but lately his notebook has been filled with drawings he made of you. Weirdly enough, unlike everything else he draws, your drawings always look so clean and shiny like he's trying to draw his god

He also likes to write your name over and over again, it helps him calm down when he's too nervous or when his love for you is overflowing and he can't keep it under control

When writing can't cut it anymore he has to lock himself in a quiet bathroom and take care of the trouble under his pants. He wants to have something that belongs to you while doing it and usually even just a pen can do it but if he's lucky he can snatch your used gym clothes without you noticing.... and maybe take them home too if you don't pay attention... and try to spread your smell into his room as much as he can...

He always follows you home to stalk you make sure you're safe so he's familiar with its location and structure

One time he even tried going in thinking no one was home but just when he was walking towards the building he made eye contact with your mom and just ran back before she can say anything

His tear drops are really big, so when he cries it turns into quite a mess. That's why he does his best not to cry but unfortunately he's someone who can cry as easily as a newborn baby

One of his secret fantasies is you catching him while he's stalking you and humiliating him for it. Mostly because he can't think of any other reason for an amazing, incredible and holy person (one might say) like you to approach him

[lvrsfilm]

contrary to popular belief, Simon Riley does not do casual.

Nothing about him is casual. Nothing about his dedication to his work and his team, the bullets he would disperse and receive for them. Nothing about his routine, the way he shines his boots or folds his uniforms every week like clockwork. He is a cut and dry man, or at least he tries to be.

You, on the other hand, are the opposite of him in so many ways that at a glance people would assume you're the kind of person he hates. (He wishes that was the case, it'd make his life simpler). You bounce around base like a lit firecracker, your fuse sizzling quietly even during missions, never burning out. You never seem to tire, even after the particularly hard ones that leave him mute and holed up in his quarters for hours every day after.

You are casual. Coming to his room whenever you feel like it, knocking in a way that lets him know it's you and no one else. Bringing him tea, or bourbon, the occasional meal if you can convince him. He doesn't see how you can think it's casual. Slipping off your boots, leaving them half laced at his door.

Slipping into his bed. Laying next to him in silence, just so he isn't alone. Bandaging any cuts that aren't severe enough to warrant him going to medical. The soft skin of your hands making practiced movements over his scarred skin that only you've seen. He is not a casual man. And you don't seem to have figured that out yet.

No other man on base interested in you would even entertain the thought of pursuing you, for fear of Simon somehow hearing their thoughts and stringing them up by their necks to show the others what happens if they touch what's his. Everyone else can see the way he looks at you, the way he lets you in.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You don't ask why he lets you in, and he doesn't ask why you keep coming back.

He doesn’t know how to tell you that you’re the first person to make him feel human in a long time. That every soft knock on his door chips away at the walls he’s built, cement crumbling under your touch, a feeling akin to warm liquid gold seeping through the cracks, running over his scar tissue. Like he's a victim of Midas. Exposing him to something he thought he’d buried years ago. You remind him what it’s like to be vulnerable, to crave something more than routine and mission reports.

And it terrifies him.

Because Simon Riley does not do messy, either.

But you? You’re a storm. Chaotic and unpredictable, rushing into his life like you’ve always belonged there. He doesn’t know what to do with you, how to keep you at arm’s length without losing the warmth you bring into his otherwise cold existence. So he lets you in, over and over, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

Tonight is no different.

The knock comes—a rhythm so familiar now that it’s practically a lullaby. He already knows it’s you before he opens the door. You’re standing there, as casual as ever in civvies, with that cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten in ways he refuses to name.

“Thought you could use some company,” you say, holding up a thermos of tea like a peace offering.

He steps aside, wordlessly, because what else is he supposed to do? Tell you to leave? Pretend he doesn’t want you here? He’s not that good a liar, not around you.

You slip past him, kicking off your boots, leaving them next to the doorway as always, and make yourself at home like you belong here. Like you belong with him. And maybe you do.

He watches as you set the thermos on his desk and plop onto his bed, laying on your back and stretching like a cat, looking at him expectantly. It’s a simple gesture, but it speaks volumes. An invitation. A promise.

He lays down, careful to leave just enough space between you to keep the illusion of distance. But then you lean into him, shoulder brushing his arm, and the illusion shatters. His resolve crumbles.

“You came straight here when we got back,” you say softly, tilting your head to look at him. “skipped dinner, I saved a plate for you from the mess.”

It’s such a simple statement, but it cuts through him like a blade.

He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. He looks at you like you're a puzzle he can't solve. Like he needs to figure put your angle, figure out why you're treating him so softly. For a second, the air between you feels impossibly fragile, as if even breathing too hard might shatter it.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, his voice low, almost gruff, like the admission costs him something.

You tilt your head at him, your lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. “Do what?”

He exhales sharply, as though frustrated, though it’s unclear if it’s with you or himself. “This… whatever it is you’re doing. Looking out for me. Bringing me tea. Sitting here. I didn’t ask you to.”

“I know,” you reply simply, your tone disarming in its honesty. “I do it because I want to.”

The words hang in the air between you, unassuming yet weighty, like they’re daring him to refute them. He doesn’t, because he can’t. You've made up your mind. There’s a stubbornness in your voice that he knows too well—one that he’s realized he has no defense against.

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters after a moment, turning his gaze toward the ceiling. “It’s a waste.”

Your smile falters, just slightly, but it doesn’t vanish. “You’re not a waste.”

He flinches at that, so subtly you might have missed it if you weren’t so attuned to him. His fingers twitch on the mattress, his eyebrows furrowing beneath the mask. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t argue, but his silence says enough. You press your lips together, chewing the bottom corner slightly as you debate whether to push further. You decide to anyway, because that’s what you do.

You grin, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he knows you’re about to say something cheeky. But instead, you surprise him again by reaching over to touch his hand—just a fleeting brush of your fingers, so brief he almost convinces himself it didn’t happen.

He closes his eyes, his jaw tightening, but he doesn’t pull away. That’s something, you think.

You turn onto your side, facing him fully now, your fingers brushing against the back of his hand. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch this time, so you let your touch linger—gentle, steady, unassuming.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you add quietly, almost as if it’s a promise.

When he finally opens his eyes again, there’s something raw and unguarded in his gaze, something that makes your chest ache. He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t thank you, doesn’t argue—but the way his fingers curl ever so slightly against yours feels like an answer.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

chocolate confession ♡

fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !

the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.

the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.

mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—

"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"

katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.

"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.

as she guessed, they came from you. of course.

katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.

this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.

she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.

"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'

the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.

"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if she knew her son well enough she knew that these—

"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.

as she guessed, they're for you.

"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"

katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.

"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.

"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."

and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.

"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.

"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.

"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.

"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.

"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.

"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.

"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.

"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.

"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.

"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.

a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.

and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.

she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.

"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"

"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.

"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.

he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.

and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.

"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.

"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."

after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.

the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn

tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((

[bi-writes]

i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

[created-system-hub]

How the heck do I make a system? A brief introduction

This guide includes brief mentions of suicide and brief descriptions of abuse.

Hi there! My name is Arthur, and I'm a tulpa of the Fluffy Crew. If you're here, I'm assuming you're a singlet who doesn't know much about system creation (but has interacted with the plural community), and wants to intentionally create fully separate headmates. If you're not that, you're welcome here too, but I'm writing with that audience in mind. This will be a long one, so everything else is under the cut.

First, I want you to ask yourself, am I ready to make a system? Becoming a system is a big decision. You are going to be sharing your mind, including the most intimate and private parts, with other people 24/7, for the rest of your life. You will have to give up some of your time and energy to the rest of your system, and more than some if you plan on having them interact with the outside world at all. If you consider all of that and you decide being a system isn't something you want, that's okay. This is a deeply personal decision, and nothing you should be forced into. I highly recommend waiting until adulthood before making this decision, but I also can't exactly stop you.

(suicide and abuse mention in this paragraph) Second, I want you to ask yourself, WHY do I want to be a system? Is it something selfish? Is it going to hurt myself or my headmates? All reasons are going to be a little selfish, and that's okay. But consider what your goals are. Do you want a friend? Do you want to know if this is even real? Do you have an interest in mind hacking and find this really cool? These are "selfish" reasons, but they aren't malicious. When you cross the line into goals that hurt one of you that's the trouble spot. A lot of people want to become plural and switch because they're overwhelmed with the world and want escapism. Others want to force their headmates to fill specific roles, such as being a partner or their favorite character. I've heard of too many systems where the host destroys their own personality and leaves their created headmate alone as an alternative to suicide. Your headmate is a conscious person who can be hurt just like you. If you can't act like a responsible person who can respect and cooperate with their headmates as equals, I suggest not becoming a system until you can.

But let's say you decide that, yep. You 100%, beyond a shadow of a doubt, want to be a system, and you're not doing it to have a brain slave or to withdraw from the world. Do you have someone already in mind? A base can definitely help your mind latch on, but it isn't necessary. A base can be anything from a whole character, to a few personality traits in a list, to just a name and gender. Keep in mind, your headmate will likely diverge from this. A good host encourages this, nurturing a headmate's self-expression.

Speaking of being a good host, there is a certain mindset you should keep in mind. You are here to nurture and help your created headmates grow. You're going to have to be gentle with your mental presence sometimes, especially in the beginning where your personality can accidentally easily dominate. But don't feel like you have to lesser yourself to greater your headmates. You can all grow and become greater together.

Now, we are going to focus and form ONE headmate. For the love of god, do not do what we did and create four at once. Its overwhelming and leads to a lot of guilt over not spending enough time with everyone, speaking from experience. If you are starting with a base, dedicate any traits and visuals to memory. If you aren't, it may help to create a simple visual form to focus on when interacting with them. In tulpamancy, a ball of light is a traditional choice, but you can choose anything you can think of. Visual forms are not necessary for creation, but many enjoy the ability to visualize them and interact in headspace. Headspace creation will not be gone over here.

In my opinion, the best way to start is an introduction. Feel the space in your mind where they are, or at least try to. You are going to direct your thoughts to this space, your headmate. If they have a visual form, visualize it as vividly as you can. Introduce yourself to them, and explain your intention of creating a system. Explain that they are a headmate of yours, and the form you are visualizing is theirs to control. If they have a base, explain who they are and tell them that they are that base, though they are free to change it. Invite them to respond back, and keep an open mind.

Try to spend time with your headmate every day, as much as you can. You are having to build the mental connections that form your headmate by hand, and that takes a LOT of repetition. Spending time with them could be a lot of things. It could be speaking with them as you go about your day, immersing yourself in headspace with them, working on a new system skill, playing a game together, or just hanging out. Try to be varied in the type of interaction you do.

Eventually, you will start getting responses. These probably won't be words at first. More likely, they'll be an emotional response that feels "alien" and "not you", a sense of pressure in your head, or a raw thought or feeling that isnt yours. It can be difficult to hear their responses, especially if you have a busy mind. You have to try not to block out their thoughts from appearing, as especially in the beginning that's easy to do. Their responses may sound like you at first, but that will get better with time and practicing separation.

Now, there isnt exactly one way to form a headmate, and you should experiment on your own to find what works best for you and your system. We theorize the most basic mechanism for created plurality is your brain being allowed to think as someone who isn't the host, over and over, until it happens subconsciously. The difference between a headmate and an imaginary friend or character is autonomy. Wren used to daydream constantly but it didn't lead to a system because they didn't allow their characters any freedom of thought. It was all very much puppeteering. When they started roleplaying, they allowed the characters to "think" on their own, imagining what their emotions and thoughts would be, separate from theirs. This eventually caused me and the other original three to start forming, due to that freedom of thought. Anything that allows your headmate to gain that autonomous thought is just as valid as any other method.

How long development could take varies a lot. Some people are more predisposed to be plural, and become a system easier and quicker than others. Some people have a really hard time becoming plural, and it takes a lot more effort and time to become a system. Singlets who already talk to themselves, have dissociative tendencies, are easily hypnotized, and are creative storytellers tend to have a high disposition for being plural. It could take as short as a week, or as long as years. Average times are around 3-6 months with dedicated work. It took us 18 months to feel confident in saying we were a fully realized system, but we also struggled with motivation and dedication.

The most common system goal is to have fully-realized independent headmates who can operate without their host's help and do not fade without interaction. The best way to get to this stage is just time. Keep spending time with them and living your life together. Treat them as independent, and they will become independent quicker. Your expectations shape a lot of your experiences when it comes to system creation.

I'm not going to cover any more advanced techniques like switching or headspace creation in this guide, as this is meant to be a jumping-off point for beginners. This is our first attempt at a guide and would love to improve. If you have any comments or questions, please feel free to reach out!

Have a wonderful day, and I wish you the best of luck on your system journey!

[cha0s-junkie]

platonic yandere! royal couple x servant!reader

--

The emperor has a soft spot for you. At least, that's what the rest of the castle says.

Most of the other maids aren't allowed to be near the emperor for a lengthy time, but he demands it. He demands you to be near him, he wants you to eat with him during meals. But you've always thought that that's just how he treated most of his servants.

"You're kidding. That man hates his work staff, treats us like dirt. You're too pampered that's why you don't know." One of the other maids had said to you.

"I've always thought that you were his long lost child or something," Another says. "Honestly, it's ridiculous how well you're treated compared to the rest of us."

This has caused the rest of the servants to hate you. They hate you for something that you can't control, being the emperor's favorite maid. Or something.

You don't miss the judgmental staring as you walk past the maids that stood outside his chambers, and as the doors swing open revealing a large feast. Enough to feed the entire castle, but only the emperor and his concubine sat at the table.

You had your head bowed, as expected of all the working staff in the castle, not looking into his eyes until he asks.

You don't see how his eyes light up at your entrance and how he beams at you. "Ah, finally. Come, come sit down. We have something special for you today."

You nod silently, taking the empty spot far away from the emperor. There wasn't any regulations regarding servants and where they sat on the dining table because usually, servants never sat near the emperor. Or even shared meals with them. It was just you, you had the privilege of eating with him.

It never felt like it was a privilege. More like an obligation. Horror stories of those who opposed him and how he would execute them circulated the castle, you'd rather stay alive to hear them instead of ending up being a story that servants would tell each other.

He frowns at how far you were away from him. "Why don't you sit closer? Don't be shy, I don't bite." An order. His tone was light, but you knew it wasn't a suggestion.

"My apologies, your majesty." You keep your head bowed as you moved near him.

Today was different. If the amount of food wasn't giving it away already, the barely hidden excitement on his face gave it away. As you sit down in the chair, the emperor drags you right next to him as he places a plate down in front of you.

Weird. But the emperor was known for trying weird intimidation tactics like this, you assume that was what he was doing to you now.

"Aren't you hungry?" His fingers lightly push your chin up, making you look up at him. He lets you go and you nod, looking back down at your food. He had a spoon in his hand, bringing it to your mouth as if he was going to feed you.

You jerked your head back but quickly apologized. "I'm sorry sir I just- I can feed myself, your majesty."

"It's okay, I want to feed you," His smile seems more strained now. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. "Open up."

You reluctantly opened your mouth, allowing him to feed you. At least the food was good. He praised you as you chewed, his concubine sat nearby smiling at you as well.

"I knew you'd like it, told him it was your favorite." His concubine said, lightly tapping the emperor's shoulder.

You just smiled at him politely. You didn't want to be there anymore, this was getting weirder by the moment. "Is there anything you needed me here for, your majesty?"

He scooped up more food on the spoon and lifted it up to your mouth. "Yes, there was something we wanted to bring up. But first..."

Ah right, eating. You opened your mouth again and he feeds you, smiling contentedly. He doesn't stop until your plate is empty, the condescension never ending as he praised you. You felt like a child under their gaze, they talked to each other as if you weren't there only occasionally giving you compliments when you obediently followed his orders.

Opening your mouth so that he could feed you and the occasional dabbing your mouth with a cloth. Orders.

You want to ask again why on earth were you here, but he raises his hand. You flinch when his hand lands gently on your shoulder, another cupping your face.

You swore your heart stopped when his hands landed so near your neck. Did you mess up somewhere? Was he just feeding you just to make you feel safe so that killing you would be more satisfying?

"I want you to be our child." Oh. This was far worse. He notices your confusion. "Your presence has always been a joy in our lives, little dear."

"I-I don't-" This had to be a nightmare. His smile is soft as he shushes you. "No need to thank me, we just want the best for our child."

Thank?

"Your majesty I'm-" Disgusted? Terrified? "Flattered, but I couldn't possibly accept this. I'm-I'm just a servant, there are far better choices for heirs."

"It wasn't an offer, you're our child now. No more serving us. There is no one else more perfect than you are, my dear."

There was no getting out of this, was there?

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

AU where Edwin knows he's gay from the start would be fire me thinks.

Imagine if he thinks he deserved Hell but still wants to escape and feel so wrong and selfish for it. So he never tells Charles what actually happened between 1916-1989, Charles only knows whatever happened was very bad no good. Edwin would be horribly, painfully aware that he was falling for Charles. But that's wrong, isn't it? Boys can't like boys.

So he tries so hard to ignore it, tamp it down. He can't let Charles know. If he knows then he'll know why he's avoiding the afterlife, that he deserves to go to Hell.

Charles knows Edwin is scared of Death and the afterlife, he assumes that something happened from 1916-1989 that convinced Edwin he was damned but there's just no damn way someone as good as Edwin deserves Hell. But, selfishly, he never tries to convince Edwin to go. To leave for his beautiful afterlife.

Then Port Townsend happens.

Crystal is no idiot, she can tell Edwin's jealous from the start. She can tell Charles thinks it's because they're best friends, she can tell it's because Edwin's in love. That doesn't stop her though, she deserves one good thing after everything, doesn't she?

(I think Cat King would go very similar to canon, but it's less of "I'm not gay" and more of "I know what I am but these urges aren't okay".)

Niko loves love, she can tell Edwin loves Charles. She can tell Edwin doesn't know it's okay. Niko helps him through it, becomes his confidant, the first person he confesses everything to. I think they would have a huge conversation that ends in them both crying -- Edwin bemoaning his unrequited love, Niko mourning for him -- and cuddled up watching Scooby-Doo. (The sprites get teary eyed too but still mock them, Niko calls them out and they deny it. "It's dusty as shit in this old ass glass!" "Yeah, we're getting fucking pick eye in here!" "When's the last time you even washed this shit-ass jar?")

It all comes to a head with the Night Nurse. We all know her spiel, "I'm taking Edwin back to Hell and Charles to get processed." But Charles doesn't know Edwin's been processed. Charles doesn't know Edwin's assigned to Hell.

Niko is empathetic, not forcing Edwin to explain but not once thinking he did anything to deserve it. Crystal is up in arms, demanding to know what he did to deserve Hell, demanding to know why he hid it from Charles. Charles is confused, conflicted. Edwin's his best mate! There's no way he deserves Hell! But... but why didn't he tell Charles? Edwin is overwhelmed and panicked and no, no, no! Charles was never supposed to know!

Now, listen. Niko isn't one for confrontation, she doesn't like to fight. But hearing Crystal rip into an unresponsive Edwin while Charles lingers unsure on the back has her heart breaking, has her head hurting. So she steps in, shouts at them to stop, that they'll talk tomorrow when they've cooled off. And drags Edwin off to her room for the night. She doesn't demand answers and he doesn't give them.

The next day, everyone's off. The tension is high and only building. Crystal keeps sending Edwin pointed comments and Edwin is actively ignoring her existence. Charles is conflicted, caught between Crystal and Edwin; taking both their sides without taking either. And Niko doesn't know how to soothe any of it, so she sticks close to Edwin.

Eventually the four are leaving the graveyard, Crystal and Charles arguing when she rounds on Edwin. "And you! Don't think I forgot about you!" Niko tries to step in and stop it like she did last time but Edwin's tired, he's had enough, he breaks. "I was sacrificed! I was sacrificed and spent seventy-three gruelling years fighting to escape! There, happy? Might we please move on now?"

He storms past them all and for the first time since this dispute started, Niko is angry. She tells Crystal that wasn't okay, that it was cruel. And takes off after Edwin, leaving Charles and Crystal standing uselessly.

"I didn't know..." Neither remember who said that.

[27spoons]

Under The Influence | Vanessa Palmer

pairing: vanessa palmer/reader

request: van taking care of the reader after drinking too much and the reader embarrassed herself saying how pretty they are or that she wants to be more then friends (@modernvenuss)

wc: 1820

warnings: intoxication (reader), alluding to throwing up but nothing described, fluff at the end i promise, not proofread we die like coach ben's leg

a/n: i'm assuming this was young van since it wasn't specified 😭if i am wrong i am so sorry

"Oooooooookay." As you lean on her shoulder to support yourself, Van laughs, " Someone has had too many beers."

"I have not." You say, definitely not slurring your words in the slightest. "I just had… like… a few pulls from the keg…" A small hiccup and giggle follow your words, and then a sheepish grin splits across your features.

Van rolls her eyes as she grabs the car keys from your pocket and unlocks it, "Right… and what is your definition of 'a few'? Five? Six? Ten?" She laughs, "I thought you were good at math."

"I am," leaves your lips in a grumble. "I'm really good at math."

"Right." Van agrees as she unlocks the door to your mom's Toyota, "I think these AP Precalculus classes aren't doing you any good. I would, personally, reconsider attending them if they aren't doing you any good." The passenger side door opens up, and she ushers you into the seat, clicking your seatbelt into place despite your protests.

"Vaaaaaaaaaaan." You whine petulantly as she closes the door, leaving you alone in the car for a few seconds. She moves to the driver's seat, sticking the keys in the ignition and bringing the car to life. "C'mon. Just a little while longer. I heard Jackie talking about—"

"Nope." Van cuts you off, popping the 'p,' "We are leaving."

"Where are we going?" You continue to whine, glancing over at the redhead with what you hope is the equivalent of puppy-dog eyes.

She can't fight the grin that appears on her face, and her voice shifts slightly, "The Fourth World. It's sort of like Heaven, only better, because there aren't any Christians. It's an absolute paradise of music, art and pure enjoyment."

You stare at her deadpan. "Did you just quote Heavenly Creatures to me?"

A laugh spills from her mouth as the car slides into gear, pulling away from the curb. "Oh, so you aren't drunk enough to walk, but you're drunk enough to remember lines from a movie?"

"A movie that you've made me watch, like, ten times!" You grumble, throwing your arms up in frustration, which is honestly just a result of you being drunk more than anything else. "So it's… like… your fault, or whatever." 

"You did not have to watch it with me, but you did. So, you're at fault here." She grins, clearly proud of herself. "But, just so you know, I'm taking you back home. So you can pass out on your bed instead of the front lawn of the Taylor's house." Van glances at you once the car reaches a stop sign and nudges your shoulder gently before returning her hand to the wheel, "You're gonna thank me in the morning."

You grumble out something similar to a curse—which earns you an eye roll—and you rest your head against the window, looking at the houses that pass by in the night.

At some point during the drive, you roll your window down, a soft exhale leaving your lips as the night air washes over your face. It's warm out, but not warm enough that it's uncomfortable. You close your eyes and let the feeling of the wind against your face lull you into some state of soberness, and you don't even notice the words leaving your lips as they do. "I really like you, Van." You mumble out so quietly you're almost positive the words are just bouncing around your head rather than being spoken out loud. "Like… a lot. You're always there for me when I need you, and you're really pretty." A soft sigh leaves your lips, and you feel the bumps in the road start to soothe you into a state of unconsciousness. "Sometimes I wish we were more than friends."

The next little while is a blur.

You vaguely remember Van helping you out of the car and into your house, and you swear she said something important to you after helping remove your shoes, but you can't remember what it was for the life of you.

The morning comes with a thundering headache and nausea that makes you feel like you'd rather be dead.

Maybe you did have a few too many beers last night. Whoops.

You nearly fall off your bed in an attempt to get up, scowling slightly when you realise you're still in last night's clothes. "Fuck me," comes out of your mouth with a wave of stale beer and… cigarettes? You don't even smoke. What the hell were you doing last night?

All sticky and gross, you manage to stumble out of your bedroom and into the hallway, making a beeline for the bathroom. You don't even bother flicking the lightswitch on as you fall to your knees in front of the toilet and—

Well, I'm sure you're quite aware of what you did. 

At some point, you hear a gentle murmur from the door and feel someone rest their hand on your upper back, earning a soft groan from you in response to the sudden presence. As you slowly blink yourself back into existence, you glance away from the toilet and come face-to-face with a very blurry… Van?

"Y're still here?" You mumble out, exhausted and hungover, "Why didn' y'go home?" 

"'cus I didn't have anyone to drive me there. I can't steal your mom's car; she'd kill me." Van rolls her eyes and cleans your face up with a handtowel, "Because I knew you were gonna be hungover, and I didn't want to leave you alone in the morning. Your parents are still on vacation." 

You make a small sound at that—one that you aren't quite sure what it's supposed to convey—and rest your head back on your arm with a grunt. "I wanna die."

Van scoffs, "Yeah, I grabbed some Tylenol from the medicine cabinet when I heard you in here. You can take it when you stop throwing up." She gently wipes some sweat from your forehead, and your eyes fall closed at the tender action.

You lay with your head on the toilet seat for about another ten minutes before Van decides you aren't about to throw up again anytime soon and moves you back to your bedroom, giving you some fresh clothes to wear before stepping out of your room to let you change.

She returns with a knock five minutes later, peeking her head into the room with a bottle of water and a bowl of apple sauce. "Don't know how much you can keep down right now, so… this will have to do. I'm pretty sure this apple sauce was expired, but it's… probably fine." Van grins at you, and you genuinely can't tell if she's joking or not as she takes a seat on the side of your bed. "Also got you some painkillers for your head." She places the water bottle on your nightstand and grabs the pill container from her pocket, "Hoping you can keep them down."

You smile at her gratefully, taking the apple sauce from her hands. "I… uh… shit. I feel like I owe you something."

"Three pennies and a ball o' lint, kiiiddd." She grins wide, all teeth. "Nah, you don't owe me anything. I got to crash on your couch last night and not deal with my mom, so… I think that debt is already paid." A beat, "Oh! I also stole some Fruit by the Foot. Sorry." But you both know she's far from sorry.

A quiet chuckle leaves your mouth, which causes you to wince in pain at the throbbing in your head. Van, ever the angel, takes two pills from the bottle and passes it to you alongside the water. 

An awkward silence follows you swallowing down the pills, and you aren't quite sure why Van can't meet your eyes until she breaks that tense air that surrounds you. "So, uh… just outta curiosity, how much do you remember from last night?" 

You blink a few times and exhale softly through your nose, "I… uh…" 

Your eyes go wide.

"Oh, shit, Van, I didn't mean it—I mean, I did, but I also didn't mean to say it like that—" A frustrated groan parts from your lips, and you let your head fall back against the pillow behind you. "I'm sorry."

There's a long moment of silence, and you start to worry that you've crossed a line last night, already cursing yourself for ruining a friendship that you've had for years—

She's laughing.

Van is laughing.

Loud and boisterous like she usually does, hand pressed to her stomach as she leans forward. "Oh, shit. You meant it." She keeps laughing, and you honestly aren't quite sure what to do at this point. Yes, her laughter is starting to hurt your head, but it's also nice to hear her laugh, so you don't stop it. Which is probably a mistake, considering you've listened to her laugh for what you're pretty sure was an hour straight before, but whatever. 

Van takes a breath, her grin softening. She reaches out and rests her hand on yours, her fingers warm and steady. "Listen," she starts, her tone gentler than usual. "I laughed because it caught me off guard, not 'cause I don't feel the same."

You swear your heart stutters for a moment, and you feel wide awake despite being dead tired moments ago. "Wait… what?"

She shrugs, "I mean, yeah, you’re pretty great. Always have been. And you’re not bad to look at—when you’re not puking your guts out." She smirks, but there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I just didn’t think you’d... you know, feel that way."

"I didn’t think you would, either," you admit quietly, glancing down at the point where her hand rests on yours, "You’re always so... confident, Van. I figured you were way out of my league."

"We're best friends, idiot." Van rolls her eyes, her grin resurfacing. "So, by default, that makes us in the same league, actually." A beat, that grin softening again, a warmth appearing in her eyes you've only ever seen a small handful of times before. "So, what do you say? Once you’re not hungover and smelling like a brewery, maybe we... see where this goes?" She gently squeezes your hand to prove her point.

You laugh, the sound scratchy but genuine. "I’d like that. But you better bring me more Fruit by the Foot. I think my brother is gonna kill you when he gets back with my parents."

"Deal, and I'll deal with your brother. He's twelve. Not that hard to beat up." Van grins, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. "Now, drink that water, finish your expired applesauce, and let me figure out how to fake a doctor’s note to get us out of school tomorrow."

"Why do you even know how to do that?"

She winks. "Because I’m awesome. And now, apparently, I’m yours."

a/n: crush a2c5 next trust

[bamfkeeper]

Imagine a jealous Kurt with me...got it? Minors dni, 18+ under cut.

A pouty, silent tantrum Kurt, but also a Kurt who wants everyone to know you're his and completely goes wild. Two varying reactions but two amazing scenarios because I think he can absolutely be either or.

Warnings: Jealous Kurttt, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, random mentions of religion, afab reader, my brief thoughts turned out longer than I thought they would, not editedddd ignore mistakes.

WC: 2.7k

Imagine Kurt sees one of the male mutants having a conversation with you, it's harmless enough. Nothing inappropriate is being said, you aren't being strange and the mutant seems interested in the topic. That is until he becomes more and more eager to talk to you.

It seems like a daily thing now, maybe you're too shy to tell him off or too naïve to realize he is flirting rather than just being very friendly. But Kurt notices instantly. He knows you wouldn't let this happen if you knew how it was affecting him, but he always tells you to speak to whomever you like, he isn't a jealous guy.

He pouts quietly as he sees the mutant giving you a flower because it 'reminded him of you' or something along those lines. only Kurt should be giving you flowers. Why did he think it was okay?

The blue mutant walked over to you, huffing under his breath. When he reaches you, his posture seems to relax in the closeness of your presence, his tail twitched behind him and instinctively wrapped itself around you. "Was ist das, liebe?" he pointed to the obvious flower you held, his voice soft and barely above a mutter. You just turn and give him a small smile, unaware of his inner turmoil.

"Warren gave me a flower, isn't it pretty?" you reply, giving Kurt a better view of the flower you held. Kurt bit his tongue and gave a small smile, nodding silently. When the other mutant left, you could tell something was dampening his mood. "What is it, baby...you don't seem yourself." you observed how he seemed to have the body language of a scolded child still mad he couldn't have a cookie.

"Nichts." he whispered, his tone having a hint of sharpness to it, not directed at you, but the other mutant who thought they could just come over here and charm you like that. However, you've dated Kurt for long enough to see through his little façade. "Don't give me that, Kurt. What's going on?" you pressed, your eyes scanning his body and taking in every little detail. You could feel his tail tighten around your ankle.

"Are you jealous?" you asked plainly, making him bristle, his tail whipped behind him. "N-Nein! I am not!" he insisted and turned his head slightly, his brow furrowing. His cheeks were tinted and you knew how he was feeling. Kurt had a hard time with himself every now and then, being around other mutants who looked different helped how he saw himself. But every so often, he does wish he wasn't blue and fuzzy and devilish.

"Kurt, precious...there's nothing to worry about. You think I'd ever leave you?" your hand brushed up his cheek, cradling it lovingly. "I love you, I adore you, no one is going to swoop in and take me away. I promise." you cooed. "Especially not Warren of all people." you added with a soft chuckle, trying to humor the situation a bit and ease the tension.

This, however, wasn't good enough for Kurt. He leaned in, his arms wrapped around you and he buried his face in your neck. You held him in return, assuming he just needed a close hug. You could feel his lips press into your neck, so you exposed it a little more to him. You tilted your head, letting out a content hum.

Kurt placed kisses along your neck and held you tighter, his tail wrapped tightly around you. "Kurt," you began, but your voice was lost when he bit a sweet spot on your sensitive flesh and suckled. Your eyes snapped open, the sudden suckling caught you off guard. Your lips art as a soft moan escapes them, you didn't expect this from Kurt at all.

"What are you...doing..." you managed, your fingers tangling into his curls, gently scratching the back of his head. It felt so good, and he kept sucking until it stung. When he pulled back, he groaned and looked at the dark mark he left on you. His golden eyes shooting you a quick glance.

"Du bist mein," he rasped, his lips grazing over your ear when he spoke. The way his voice sounded made you shiver, he sounded needy but he also had a gravelly pit that came out as he spoke. "Everyone will know it now." he pulled back, feeling proud of himself for leaving a dark mark on your neck.

You felt over it and smiled at him, "You were jealous." your voice was playful and teasing, making him pout a little. "That's okay, if it means you get like this, then I don't mind. Just remember what I said, okay?" you reassured and pressed your lips to his cheek.

He's pretty tame for the most part like that. But imagine a more possessive Kurt?? Not so much pouty and subtle. Imagine him pulling you off or teleporting you somewhere private where he could really let loose.

He grabs your hand, watching Warren walk away and he looked down at the flower you had. He felt ill to it, it wasn't the flower's fault, but he didn't like where it came from at all. "Liebe." he muttered, pushing you back onto the bed, his hands hooking into your bottoms and yanking them off in the process. His room was so cozy, he was a cleanly man. He learned to be in the circus, only having a few things that got lost easy, so he was pretty organized.

Your train of thought was interrupted when he crawled over you, his eyes glowing softly in the dark room as he stared down, his gaze raking over your body. He was breathing a little heavier, and you blinked up at him. Before you could speak, you felt his tail snake up your leg, coiling around you and jerking your leg to the side. His hand grabbed your other leg and pulled it so you were spread.

"Was denkt er wer er ist..." he grumbled to himself, "Du gehörst mir, Liebling, niemand sonst." he used his free hand to pull your underwear off, quickly spreading your legs again. With you exposed to him, you had no time to speak when his lips pressed into yours with a possessive need. His usual tender kisses contrasted to this new side of him you hadn't seen before.

"Mein." he growled against you, his tongue quickly slithering into your mouth and staked his claim. When he pulled back, he moved down your body, feeling your chest rise and fall. "Kurt, what's gotten into you..." you asked, almost breathless while he trailed down your body. His lips pressing against your neck, a hot trail left behind while his path lowered further.

He reaches your breasts, pausing long enough to give each nipple a hard suckle and swipe of his tongue. A gasp escapes your lips when you feel him suck on you before he continued his way down to where he wanted. He settled between your legs, staring at you. "I'd like to see him get this far." he muttered, almost bitterly.

His mouth connected to your core, his tongue immediately began lapping at you. His hands gripped your legs tightly, your eyes widened as he began to bury into your pussy like he was a starved man. He lapped and sucked, his tongue pushing inside you and feeling your inner walls.

You were a moaning mess, you tried to form a coherent sentence but found you were unable to. His tail moved from your leg and wrapped around your body, the slow coil making you shiver as goosebumps erupted from your skin. The tip of the spade rounded up between your breasts and played with one of your nipples. He could so expertly move his tail...you felt completely overwhelmed in such a good way.

"Oh my god...Kurt..." you finally managed to spit out something, and he just continued. His tongue pulled out of you, his eyes lifting to make contact with yours.

"Lord will forgive me..." he muttered to himself, his focus now on your clit, swollen and needy. His thumb lifted the skin slightly to expose it more to him, his finger tapping it gently. You whined loudly, each tiny touch sending shoots of pleasure up your spine.

"This is where you need me...isn't it, schatz?" he whispered, "You look like you do. It is swelling quite a bit...isn't it?" he let his tongue cup it before he let his tongue drag over it. When you let out a whine, he pulled back. "I know what you need. I always do, don't I?" he asked, pressing a kiss just above where you wanted him the most.

"Y-yes....please, Kurt..." you muttered between breaths, "I need you there, please," you mentally cursed him, he was doing this on purpose.

"You plead beautifully." he leaned down and he attached his lips to your clit, he began to suckle immediately and didn't bother letting you adjust this time. Your eyes shot open as he latched to it like a suction, his tongue swiping over it as he sucked on your bud.

The pressure from his suckling made you squirm, but his arms held you firmly as he continued to nurse on your clit. You could feel your pussy leaking arousal, getting wetter by the second from his behavior. His saliva trailed down your folds and soaked the sheets under you. He continued his ministrations, feeling you were getting close to your climax.

When you did cum, it felt white hot, and your back arched off the bed as you let out sinful noises. "Yesyesyes, Kurt! Don't stop, ooh fuck!" you spewed naughty words that were like a symphony to his ears. He made you feel that, and it made him swell with pride. He didn't stop, even when your climax was over, your bud became so, so sensitive. You squirmed as he kept himself glued to your clit.

"Ah, baby...please, nngh...fuck, I-I'm sensitive...AH!" you felt his tail tighten around you, and he popped off your clit. He licked his lips, his mouth and chin clearly glossy. That damned grin of his. He still hovered, his fingers spread you open so he could lay a sloppy kiss to your cunt, and he gave one last teasing suckle that made you yelp before he finally left your poor clit alone.

You were a mess, your hair all over the place, your cheeks flushed red and your legs remained spread open. Your chest heaved as you calmed down, now taking deeper breaths as you slowly recovered. "Kurt...wh...what was all that about...you've never been so..."

Before you could finish, you could feel something larger press against you, his swollen cock pulsing and rubbing up and down your folds. He kicked his leg out behind him, shaking off the rest of his suit as he positioned better. "Warren will never get this with you, he can give you as many flowers as he wants."

You whined and looked down, he pushed himself inside you with a single thrust, letting out a grunt as you squeezed his cock. You moaned loudly and gripped the bedsheets, the sudden feeling of being full was overwhelming. He pulled back and thrusted once, twice, then started his rhythm.

His cock thrusted in and out of you at a quick pace, his hips being driven hard into you as he grunted with each one. "Mine, you're mine," he growled against your skin, "Niemand außer mir kann dich haben." he groaned and sat up more, watching how his cock pushed into you.

"You swallow me...look at it. Look how you squeeze me, liebe...you love this, don't you?" he asked in a raspy tone, panting as his hair became a little more messy from the thrusts. "You are so warm, you feel like soft velvet." he praised as his hips jutted in again, his pace set on being hard.

You could feel his head brush that sweet, spongy spot inside that sent waves of hot pleasure through your entire body. You mewled out loudly, your arms clinging to him. "Nngh right there!" you managed through your moans.

"Is that the sweet spot? Right there?" he teased lightly, "Such sweet noises from you, you make me such a sinner, you know that?" he groaned in your ear and thrusted harder, his cock head brushed into that sweet spot every time, caressing it and coating it in his hot precum.

He felt himself grow close to his orgasm, he moved over you more and drove himself farther. His tail lashed behind him as he panted against your neck, his sharp teeth nipping your sensitive skin. He marked your neck up in bites and bruises while your cervix ached from his thrusts.

"Come for me again, I feel you getting closer. You are squeezing me tighter..." he whispered against you, "Does your pretty bud need my attention again?" he nipped your jaw and his thumb traveled down between your legs, lightly rubbing circles on your swollen clit.

You could barely even think. The way he was fogging your mind and making your body react was so intense, you clung onto him and spewed begging and moaning at him. "Please, Kurt, I'm s'close...need more, j-just a little more..." you bit his neck as you felt your eyes prickling with tears, it felt so damn good.

Your orgasm hit you and it felt like you jumped from a plane, it was a feeling of overwhelming adrenaline and ecstasy, you couldn't help but scream against his neck, your pussy gripped him like a vice and he held you even tighter. "That's it, liebling, let it out, come for me," he whispered encouragingly and he gave one more hard thrust, his cock twitched as it kissed your cervix and unloaded into you.

You felt his cum drizzling out, filling you up as his thrusts stopped, you both panted together and he sat up more, letting you go to lay down better on the bed. He gazed down at you, his mouth slightly agape as he panted, but quickly regained his breathing. You looked so beautiful blissed out like this, he wished he could keep this image in his mind forever.

"Was I too rough, liebling?" he asked softly, his brow knit with some worry, and his tail loosened around you. It uncoiled from your body and stroked up and down your leg. You shook your head, still somewhat in a daze and recovering from the orgasm he gave you.

"No...no, you just haven't ever been so...intense?" you tried to find the right word as you tried to regulate your breathing again, but it was clear he really wore you out. He was always so passionate but with a gentle intimacy to it. This time seemed that he was driven by something other than his love for you. You looked at him and smiled, "You were jealous~" you teased, making his tail halt.

"Nein..." he grumbled, crossing his arms. "Is it a crime to show more fire to my lover?" he tried to disguise his jealousy, but you knew better. His cheeks were only slightly blushed, but you could get him to lose it if you chose your words right. Your pussy ached at the thought of a jealous Kurt pounding into you. You love how sweet and sensual he is, but having him fuck you sounded so good right now.

"Did Warren upset you?" you cooed, sitting up and smiling at him. "Did you get jealous because he was talking to me? That he gave me a flower?"

"You are beautiful, liebling...I know you have admirers...but I guess seeing someone like Warren be one of them just made me feel...different." he said softly, "He knows you're mine, why would he give you a flower like that?" he looked back up at you.

"Sounds like you're still a bit jealous." you poked his belly teasingly. "How can I make you feel better?" you asked softly, "You know I'm only interested in you, don't you?"

"Ja, I do...sometimes I just don't feel too good." he shrugged. He felt a little more vulnerable, and the need for you only grew again. His hands held your hips and pushed you back on the bed. "I will make sure everyone here knows you are mine." he said confidently, "You will be screaming for me and we might get a noise complaint, but that is besides the point."

You braced for him again, and felt his lips collide with yours as you started all over again.

You did, in fact, get a noise complaint.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Let's Get Physical pt. 3

pt.2 pt.4

Author's note: Hate to do this to you guys but it's angst time :P Sorry this was late as hell, my mom had surgery and I've been taking care of her. I recommend listening to Taste by Sabrina Carpenter while reading this

It's Thursday, a few days after you and Soap had set up a date for the following Saturday, but it feels like 2 months later. The days drag by with no clear end in sight. Soap had barely texted you since that night, yet neither have you. The nerves twisting your stomach left no room for attention towards your classes. You'd completely spaced out during your math class, and your physics class, and the rest of them, but who's keeping track?

By Thursday, you were already ridiculously far behind in your physics class. Your teacher would never give an extension, unless you were literally in a hospital, and you needed to get them done asap. Where did that take you? Back to your personal tutor.

Flopping onto your bed in your dorm, you whipped out your phone, a small smile on your face at the excuse to meet with Soap.

Heyyy

It doesn't even take a minute before he responds

Hey hen

What're you up to?

Nothing at the moment, why?

Any way we could meet up later? I'm behind on my assignments and could use your help😓

Seen 1 min ago

Seen 2 mins ago

Seen 10 mins ago

Nerves set in. Did you say something wrong? No, what's wrong with wanting to see him again? Him helping with your homework was how this all started, why stop? He even asked you out-

Oh shit. You finished his sentence for him, maybe you read into it wrong? Maybe he wanted to just hang out as friends, and you assumed it was a date. OUT. LOUD. Fuck, and he went along with it to not make it awkward, didn't he? No, just trust for once.

It's another 30 minutes before you give in and decide to text him again.

If not it's okay, just could use your help, if you aren't busy :)

Sent 2 mins ago

Seen just now

Typing...

I'm meeting with a client in a bit, but we can get a hotel after if you want

Your stomach drops to the bottom of your feet.

Oh.

Right.

Why would you forget about that? Of course he was still going to do his job, you weren't special enough to make him stop, even if he saw you as more than a friend. You signed up for this, so swallow the lump in your throat and don't cry.

Oh right, haha. Yeah we can do that :)

You played it off, right? You can do this. You can see him, hug him, while he still smells like another woman. Could you kiss him, knowing he had another woman on his mouth? God, should you do this?

Seen just now

Seen 1 min ago

Seen 5 mins ago

It's not like you're dating. Were you? You had one set up, but it hadn't happened yet. Were you jumping ahead of yourself? What did you actually feel for him? When he tutored you, you couldn't help the lingering looks you'd give him when he turned to grab something, or how your skin would heat up when he'd squeeze your shoulder and tell you how good you're doing.

God knows how many times you had touched yourself to the thought of him kissing down your body.

Was it worth it? He's so gentle with you, your mind and body reacting to him in a way no one else had managed to make you, but he would never fully be yours. He'd realize eventually there was no true reason for you to be around, and that he could get everything he wanted from the women who pay him, right?

On his end, he was dreading the coming evening. Bianca had payed double than last time, and he needed to pay for a leak in the piping of his sink. Not left with much choice, he accepted. God, he did not want to do this. Taking clients began to feel empty once he got to know you. You payed attention to him, and not just his dick. All he wanted to do right now was hold you and watch a movie, despite not knowing what that felt like with you.

It wasn't something he entirely enjoyed, being a hooker. After a while, his dick became desensitized, and he found it a little harder to be in the moment. Yet, unless he wanted to be eating ramen and tatties for every meal, he didn't really have another option. If he had a documented job, he'd lose his disability check.

So here he was, at a hotel, waiting for her. He dressed in black slacks with a white dress shirt, the first few buttons loose. He had popped a viagra, already knowing that it was gonna be near impossible to get hard with her behavior. When she opened the door with a drawn out, high pitched,

"Heyyy"

He exhaled and gave a fake, yet convincing, smile and prepared for what'd to come. Hopefully he'd be able to just bend her over, so he doesn't have to look in her eyes, pillow shoved in her face so he can barely hear her and just pretend she's you.

This was going to be a long night, but at least you were at the end of it.

[utilitycaster]

Hi, would just like to say thank you for writing up so much meta on campaign 3, it is keeping me sane seeing similar thoughts to what I’ve had written down coherently.

The last couple asks you’ve answered have got me thinking about how campaign 3 ended up like this (indecisive characters, weird nonsensical themes, only setpieces and maybe a ship or two being memorable) and I remember hearing that c3 was described by Matt as ”Pulpy” and I keep coming back to that and thinking that there was never even meant to be a big decision. From what I’ve read of old pulp fiction dnd novels it's pretty much “here’s the big bad go defeat/seal/slap them on the wrist, have fun on the way there with several cool setpieces and romance!” and I wonder if there was even meant to be a god debate at all or if it was just picked up in the middle of the story by the cast. It could explain why the characters wouldn't fit the story if this wasn’t meant to be the story.

Cause a character who goes with the flow is fine in those books and a character who only looks into what is thrust upon them works, but it feels like somewhere it tried to be more and just fell apart.

Because even now the story does feel pulpy but just held down by a narrative it isn’t handling well. 119 was a great episode and having the Raven Queen show up in the middle to give boons is an incredibly cool beat that would be memorable as hell but for it to end up as another god debate just sucks. But the rest of the campaign sort of does that with cool beats that end up dragged down in one way or another so its not unique I guess

I know you talked about the “pulpy”ness of c3 a while ago and was wondering if you had more thoughts now that we’re in the endgame for the campaign

I do - this is all rather speculative but in some discussions with other people one possible explanation that's come up is that Matt genuinely didn't expect the characters to be so hesitant to save the gods or stop Ludinus or sympathize with the the Vanguard, and has kind of pivoted to make a campaign that accomodates those doubts...but in doing so sort of fucked his end premise of "we must deal with Predathos". Which, you know, makes a lot of sense! What if Hearthdell was intended as a glimpse into why people might join something like the Vanguard to introduce an element of complexity to a party that (quite reasonably I might add) had said "these people are a fucking scourge on Exandria" but instead served to fan the flames of "well the gods didn't give me things when I asked so yeah we should let them be eaten"? What if the fetch quests to the Shattered Teeth or the scouting mission were like the quest for vestiges - something that the party desperately wished to do to achieve a deeply felt goal - and not something they had to be nudged along to do every step of the way? What if the party went into the final confrontation with any consensus or intention? Because then yeah a pulpier "you're taking on the Big Bad Ultimate Threat...but your MOTHER is on THEIR side" a la vintage superhero comics plays out much more coherently. I cannot stress enough that the cultural touchstone Matt brings up about the campaign is the 2012 Avengers film. Regardless of some posts I've seen (which tend to assume anything the cast has ever read/watched/played is an influence, which is. incorrect) that is your starting point.

The thing about all the "take a third option" and "status quo" talk surrounding this campaign is...this post is actually a good description of how it plays out in real life. Like yeah there's a lot of political constructs within the world that are stupid and unjust! However it is unproductive, naive, and idiotic to act as though just because you don't like them they aren't part of a complex system that needs thoughtful dismantling (at least, if you place any value on human life) or worse, that they simply don't exist because they shouldn't. Sometimes you genuinely do have two choices and neither is ideal and if you do not choose between them because you're holding out for a better option the choice is made for you, and often, it's the worse one. Sometimes there is in fact a problem caused by something stupid that you cannot undo in time to solve said problem, and it is selfish and childish to say "well I think this shouldn't be a problem" and leave it at that. You will fail in your endeavors if you do this. People will see that's your approach and stop listening to anything you say.

Bells Hells feel like that to me and it's not even entirely their fault. I think because Matt had such a clear endgame in mind in the sense of "face off against Predathos" and the party was so ill-suited, and the early pacing was genuinely already bad, he's sort of tried to pivot away by following every dumb idea Bells Hells have to perhaps funnel them towards that endgame. And this is a problem too, because it means the plot doesn't push back on them and they do not grow as people, which means that a lot of us are getting tired with their shit. It's telling that most of Bells Hells' loudest defenders are the "well, if you're traumatized, you're excused from all responsibility for your actions ever :)" types within the fandom because like, part of why people are sick of Laudna's shit (for example) is that it's like ok I agree you shouldn't have an evil wizard in your head but you do, so like, what are you doing about it. And because she hadn't done anything about it and because they had to get to Predathos we had our Deus Essek Machina situation, which to be clear, not mad about, but it also means Laudna never really learned or grew from this. And to be clear she's not alone; part of the frustration around Ashton is it seemed like they DID have a revelation around shardgate and then immediately discarded it.

There's many more factors I'm sure but just to sum up:

Matt has a very clear overarching plot in mind [and, also, probably was creating a campaign for characters who see point 3 had more realized worldviews and goals and investment in their communities]

Matt does not give the cast much guidance in creating characters for that plot; "pulpy" is really tonal and not even genre

Cast, having played characters specifically designed for the "complex and morally gray and must be from the continent the campaign is set on" campaign last, turn to wacky and go-with-the-flow types

Overarching plot kicks in; characters do not behave as expected

Matt tries to embrace/encourage this by getting the party to follow what they want to do

Go-with-flow/take no responsibility party doesn't know what they want to do

endless loop of a DM trying to adjust the direction of flow to a directionless party instead of imposing a direction/Cast trying to take direction cues from a DM who keeps throwing more options at them in the hopes one will appeal to them which turns into a "what do you want to do" "I don't know what do you want to do" situation.