#please keep sending asks!

[pebblemae]

there is something to be said for candle run burnout for sure, like it now takes so many candles to get things that you want, as well as the pricing for paid items of course. The entire thing just makes me wonder if sky: cotl should follow in the footsteps of animal crossing: pocket camp and just make a paid game with no in-app purchases. I think the team are trying to tackle the CR burnout tho with different mechanics such as revamping daily quests (personally i don't like the revamp as it is now, but it's clearly in its early stages!). There's just...a lot going on and it would be better in my opinion if there was no IAP at all, especially because I've seen players be weird in the past about it, like trying to justify paid items by talking about veteran status (idk how veteran status correlates with being able to pay for IAP). Overall I think there needs to be a revamp of sky as a whole.

Again, this got long. I have thoughts.

Yeah, IAP is a really tricky topic. On one hand, it's kinda how free games make money, so I personally get not cutting it out completely. On the other, it really seems like ALL the good cosmetics are IAP.

I mean, in Days of Sunlight, there are 7 IGC items (50 Tickets, 384C, and 30 H). and 11 IAP items ($200+ USD). What's worse is most people can't even afford all the IGC items so you end up getting 3-5 items out of the total 18. For a game that's a lot about cosmetic collection, that sucks for the average player!

I'm not personally bothered but the 20+ ticket values. If you're more or less collecting, you can get them fairly easily. You can miss almost half the days and still get the two items. (84 tickets over 14 days. 50 tickets for the two cosmetics. you can miss 5, almost 6 days and still have enough) I have more to say on Ticket Cosmetics, but I'll save that for later.

I wouldn't be as bothered by this insane IAP to IGC item split if they were affordable and if IGC items as a whole stood up to the design and demand of the IAP. Apparently, the earrings were GOING to be IGC but were last minute switched with the floaty. There are SO few earrings, so making them IAP really sucks. It feels like the umbrella problem now. (of the 7 umbrellas, only 2 are IGC as TS)

I would love to see the IAP disappear altogether too, but that's just not realistic. From a financial standpoint for the company, as well as just in general. People hate them, but people still buy them. If anything I could maybe see a price reduction in IAP but with that comes the fact that now those who paid the higher price were "scammed" and that could create legal problems.

I have no idea what TGC could do, but for starters, I'd ask to lower IGC item prices and make fewer IAP items. Whether that will happen or not, I'm not optimistic, unfortunately.

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[greatbigbellies]

THE GREAT BIG GRAVID PREGNANCY KINK ASK GAME

There are some very fun preg or belly kink ask games out there, but the one's I've seen are typically focused on one flavor of said kink, or aren't strictly pregnancy-focused or are heavily gendered.

So I thought I'd to cook up 50 fun, kinky but not outright explicit, questions for an ask game. All pretty broad in application, and gender neutral! Please enjoy! _______________________________________________________

What's your favorite aspect of pregnancy? What makes it hot for you in a kink sense?

Would you rather be with someone who IS pregnant, or be pregnant YOURSELF? (or both?)

Do you prefer pregnant bellies that sit high, or carry low?

Do you prefer a pregnant belly that leans more "torpedo belly" or "beachball belly", or something else?

Favorite pregnancy blemish (stretchmarks, veins, linea nigra, ect), if any?

If you could only pick one, would you keep hyperpreg, rapid preg, or perma preg? Why?

Favorite NON-physical attribute of pregnancy? (Ex: cravings, pregnancy brain, nesting)

Most niche part of pregnancy that fits into your kink?

How pregnant is TOO pregnant where it stops being hot?

Thoughts on ill-fitting/outgrowing clothes with pregnancy?

Do you prefer bare, partially covered, or tightly clothed pregnant bellies?

Do you have a favorite occupation to see a pregnant person performing?

In preg kink writings, when a pregnancy is abnormal in any way, do you prefer when it's supernatural (fantasy), technological (sci-fi), explained some other way, or not explained at all?

Who are some of your favorite preg kink artists/blogs?

Do you prefer when a pregnancy is super encumbering, or doesn't limit the pregnant person in an extreme way?

How do you feel about pregnancy and stuckage?

How do you feel about pregnancy and stuffing, or vore, or wg, or inflation, or any other kink that increases belly size?

How do you feel about pregnancy paired with another, non-belly related kink? (asker may specify)

Thoughts on pregnant belly worship?

Thoughts on pregnant belly manipulation? (like pushing on or shaking a pregnant belly)

What's something kinky you would love to do to a pregnant belly, outside of the realm of normal pampering or worship?

What's an outfit you'd love to see a pregnant person wear?

For kink purposes, what's your favorite stage of pregnancy?

Favorite view for a belly? (straight on, side profile, POV looking down as though it's yours, ect)

Do you prefer a pregnant person dressed to the nines, or basically in their pajamas?

Describe one of your most self indulgent preg kink fantasies in full.

Do you prefer super active pregnant bellies, or bellies with calmer babies?

Do you prefer smooth and blemishless pregnant bellies, or ones with lots of marks and veins and strain?

Favorite non-belly physical attribute of a pregnant person?

Favorite state for a belly button on a pregnant belly? (innie, outie, flat, ect)

Thoughts on pregnant bellies with a soft layer of chub around them?

Favorite word to describe a pregnant belly?

Do you prefer when a pregnant person is "maxed out" and at the height of their possible growth, or big but still growing, lending to some anticipation for what's to come?

What's your ideal rapid preg growth speed? How long should it ideally take to go from a flat tummy to full term?

Do you prefer a large/overdue singleton, or a batch of multiples?

What what point does "high order multiples" become "hyper preg" to you?

Thoughts on monsterpreg? If you enjoy it, what's your favorite monster to be/see someone pregnant with?

If you enjoy pregnancy encumbering mobility, do you prefer if its due to size, or weight? or both?

Do you think of a pregnancy kink as a more "vanilla" kink, or as one of the weirder ones?

What are some aspects of pregnancy that you enjoy in a kink way that AREN'T the pregnancy itself? (Ex: breeding, labor, birth, lactation, ect)

Have you told anyone you know IRL about your pregnancy kink? If so, who (within reason privacy wise), and how did they take it?

Favorite piece of pregnancy-centric media? (could be for kink purposes or otherwise)

Favorite part of a pregnant belly?

Thoughts on belly piercings on pregnant bellies?

In a kink context, what's an activity you would you like to be doing/see someone doing while pregnant?

At what point does a pregnant belly go from "big" to "huge"?

Do you have any preg kink "guilty pleasures"? What is one, if you have any and are willing to share?

Do you have another kink that you enjoy mixing with pregnancy? If so, what is it?

Do you have any irl stories or anecdotes that relate to your pregnancy kink in way way? Care to share?

In as much detail as possible, what's your IDEAL pregnant belly?

[kandismon]

totally lore-accurate swanqueen screencap redraws 4/∞

they're on their first date :3c

[djotime-allthetime]

Freaky Red Carpet

synopsis: your final red carpet appearance with fred for gladiator ii. (your first public appearance as a couple?)

wc: 4k+

warnings: rpf! reader is specified to be inexperienced!

a/n: same general vibes as the last one but more introspective ig, but we go into more specifics here as well as some backstory.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of the premiere. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

<<previous part

The screams and chaos of the premiere crashed over you as you stepped out of the car, a security guard’s hand reached for yours to steady you. This was it, the final big event. Even though it wasn’t over just yet, the nostalgia was creeping in, soft but persistent.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Fred’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood only a few steps ahead of you, having just arrived himself. Your gaze softened, lingering on Fred, oblivious to the cameras snapping away. “You look…” His gaze dipped once—then again—tracing your figure. A soft, unguarded smile tugged at his lips, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. As if he was completely enraptured by you. “You’re stunning, you know that?”

The ability to speak escaped you for only a moment, the words caught in your throat. “...Fred, you can’t-”

“No, I’m serious.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised. He walked forward and placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place to continue studying you, as if he was in awe. “Look at you.” His eyes finally found yours again. “You’re gorgeous, y/n.”

“Thank you.” The words felt stronger than your voice. You weren’t insecure—you knew you looked good tonight. But having someone say it like that—having Fred say it like that, like he couldn’t even keep the thought to himself—it nearly brought you to tears.

A deafening roar of cameras and voices dragged you back to reality. The glow of flashing lights blurred at the corners of your vision, and distant shouts of your name cut through the haze. You straightened your posture instinctively, smoothing invisible creases in your dress. But Fred could see it. He could see that small moment you tried to keep to yourself.

“Hey, come here.” He spoke softly, less of a request and more of a warning of the oncoming embrace. He pressed his hands between your shoulders blades once you settled into him, chin hooked against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head vehemently, the silky smooth finish of his suit rubbing against your neck. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I made you emotional.”

“You always make me emotional.” You chuckled, voice light to keep the tears at bay, unsure why they even came in the first place. “You look incredibly handsome tonight.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, his smile and excitement clear in his voice.

“Of course.” You pulled away and jerked your chin at his outfit. “We’re almost matching.”

With a quick second look at the color scheme of your outfit compared to his, Fred’s eyes lit up. “We are!”

“I think Grant and Leslie set us up.” You squinted your eyes conspiratorially. “I heard them talking about ‘all black looks’ yesterday.”

“Really?” He raised his brows at the information. “Come to think of it, Leslie refused to even entertain any of my suggestions today.” Fred laughed it off and reached down to hold you. His hands smoothly slid down your arms until they arrived at your hands, interlacing your fingers together. “Come on.” He tilted his head toward the carpet behind him. “Walk with me.”

“Down the carpet?” You gawked, frozen in place as he gently pulled you in the direction of the flashing lights.

“Yeah pretty, down the carpet.” Fred chuckled like you were joking. “It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“You wanna take pictures with me? Like us- together?” You whispered to Fred, not fully paying attention to the cameras already catching every moment. As Fred’s hand tightened around yours, you realized.

You weren’t exactly hiding this—not entirely. Your blossoming relationship, that is. Keeping things personal and quiet felt right for both of you. But this—walking a red carpet together—had never been part of the plan.

“‘Course I wanna take pictures with you.” Fred answered, eyes soft but certain. “We worked super closely on this movie, y/n. I don’t think people will over analyze if we take pictures together on the carpet.” He shrugged. His words meant more than that, though. You knew he meant that you could do whatever you wanted. That you shouldn’t limit yourself in your relationship just because you wanted boundaries. Keeping it private didn’t mean keeping it a secret, like you were doing something wrong. 

“Besides, you’re my Lovie.” His voice softened, almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if you’d still claim the title in front of all these people.

Your neck grew warm at his words.

Lovie.

That was the name you and Fred called your deliberately unnamed character throughout filming. Caracalla called her ‘my love’ almost exclusively in the script. So it became your quick shorthand between each other. And soon after, the rest of the cast and crew called your character that as well. But it was different with Fred. After a while, it stopped being her name for him. It was you. You were his Lovie.

“Oh- Okay, yeah.” You nodded at Fred, accepting the idea of walking the carpet together, though still slightly apprehensive. 

“Yeah?” He asked again, just to make sure. And with another nod from you, Fred’s victorious smile lingered as his hand settled on the small of your back, sending sparks up your spine. “Gotta show off my girl,” he murmured, his hand pressing a little firmer into you. You weren’t sure if he wanted you to hear that or not, but you did. The way Fred could unravel you, seemingly without even trying, felt wildly unfair—like every tender gesture was second nature to him. 

He led you up the crimson steps, where the carpet shimmered beneath camera flashes and distant voices blurred into a roar. Your name and Fred’s were being called from every which way. Before you could stand still and face a specific group of photographers, Fred moved away from your side all of a sudden, his steps quick and fluid. 

“Fred?” you asked, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.

“One second.” His voice was low, nearly lost in the noise. When you turned, you saw Fred at your other side by your feet. He crouched smoothly to get closer to what he was after. The train of your dress. It wasn’t that long, but the small trek up the stairs had it all misshapen. With precise movements, he tugged at the fabric to position it into place. After he straightened it out sufficiently, he stood back up and stepped around his handiwork to come back at your side, arm looping around your waist to pull you back into him.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your hands came up to rest against his chest. You adjusted his lapels in a subconscious attempt to return the favor, brushing away the imaginary lint on his chest and shoulders. Fred visibly blushed at your words, your hands on him, the way that you were looking at him, all of it. You displayed your emotions in a way that even he couldn’t dismiss. Not that he would want to. He loved it. Every moment. Being cared for so openly made his heart flutter and his ears turn red, it was exhilarating.

“I wanted to.” He reassured you, head nodding down softly, a subtle attempt at getting closer to you.

A piercing shout of your name followed by a burst of blinding light shattered the quiet moment.

The soft bubble you and Fred had built around yourselves burst, replaced by the harsh glare of cameras and the relentless hum of the crowd.

You dropped your hands from Fred’s chest, suddenly aware of how close you were.

But Fred’s hand stayed where it was, anchoring you in the thrashing waves of it all.

You turned this way and that, following the voices of photographers as they shouted out different poses they wanted to see.

“I could get used to this.” Fred spoke quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear. 

You frowned in confusion and turned to look at him. “Which part exactly?” You asked. 

“Having the prettiest girl in the world on my arm.”

“Was this your plan tonight?” You couldn’t hide your grin no matter how hard you tried. “To kill me with compliments?”

“Not a bad way to die, no?” Fred furrowed his brows in faux seriousness, his mouth twitching in that way it did, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “You’re a horrible man, Fred Hechinger.”

‘idk if they’re together or not and i want to be respectful but theyre literally the cutest people ever and if its true then theyre perfect for each other 🥺 truly wish them the best’

‘the mouth thing he does is actually the cutest thing ive ever seen’ ↳ ‘hottest. i think you mean hottest.’

‘look at the matching outfits!! i can’t! theyre too frickin cute!!!’ ↳ ‘its just all black lol y’all read into things too much 🙄’

‘we need a lip reader up in here 🗣️🗣️’

‘we love a man who knows the importance of the dress’

‘how does she just look better and better at each public appearance?!’

‘this is flirting one million percent’

‘either theyre together or theyre idiots, because this just might be true love’

‘we can’t assume that every interaction in hollywood means something more than it is, give them the privacy they deserve!’

‘what are they SAYINGGGG?!!?!’ ↳ ‘it definitely looks like he said ‘prettiest girl in the world’ there at the end, right?? call me crazy, but i can see his mouth moving so clearly it has to be it!’ ↳ ‘you’re definitely crazy, but also you’re definitely right’ ↳ ‘you’re right!!!! isn't that so relationship goals??’

Towards the end of the carpet, the rest of the cast were gathered to take a group photo. Paul saw the two of you approaching and his eyes lit up. 

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” He teased the two of you. “Been waiting all night!”

“Sorry,” you ducked your head as you confessed, smiling sheepishly. “Entirely my fault. I came late.”

“Ah, come here.” Paul laughed as he brushed it off and pulled you into a hug. “You look stunning.”

“And you’re handsome as ever.” You returned the compliment.

Paul pulled Fred into his side once you withdrew. You saw him whisper something into Fred’s ear, and Fred laughed and whispered something back, but you couldn’t quite make any of it out. 

When Fred pulled away, you shook your head at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. A small way of asking ‘What was that about?’ Fred smiled and shook his head, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

“Alright, you two!” Paul clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Picture time!”

“Do I look okay?” You turned to Fred, hand coming up to make sure your hair was in place. You were facing him now, your colleagues to one side of you and the expanse of the carpet on the other side. 

“You always look perfect.” He answered, eyes struggling to stay on yours. Always dipping down to your neck, your shoulders, your waist. He had to get a hold of himself, he thought. 

As you raised your arm to make sure your earrings were on properly, one of your bracelets snagged at the neckline of your dress. Nothing had happened yet, but if you moved in the wrong way, you’d have a horrible wardrobe malfunction on your hands. A soft ‘Oh!’ escaped you as you realized what was happening. Fred’s eyes darted from yours to your hand, where your eyes were fixated on something.

“What happened?” He mumbled as he quickly moved you with his hands on your elbows and simultaneously stood in front of you, making sure the scene was as difficult as possible for the cameras to capture.

“My bracelet’s stuck,” you explained, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoned in on the tangle. 

His hands quickly covered yours, gently moving your fingers out of the way. “Here, let me.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re like my own personal assistant today.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a small smile, still working on your bracelet, glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself even now.

He was a bit worried about you today, especially after he initially saw you at the entrance to the carpet. He knew the high of working on this project was coming down for you and he wanted to be there to support you through it all. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, “first the train of my dress, now this. What next? You’re gonna pull out a powder puff and take care of the shine on my forehead?”

“If this suit had big enough pockets, I’d pull out a plane and fly us out of here.”

“Where would we go?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, the Maldives? Russia? The moon?” Fred laughed with you as he pulled your hand back down, your bracelet and your dress back to their previous intact positions.

“Well, I already told you two that I want to go take pictures.” Paul’s voice broke the bubble that seemed to continuously form around the two of you. He stood next to you and placed a hand on your and Fred’s shoulders. “Hate to ruin the moment, lovebirds, but there’s only so much time before the movie starts inside.”

Paul pushed the two of you towards the spot prepared for the photos. Ahead of you was the rest of the cast, all lined up. Pedro Pascal, Connie Neilsen, Joseph Quinn, and Denzel Washington all stood together chatting and laughing. Paul went and stood next to Pedro, and Joseph made room for Fred between him and Denzel. You slid up next to Paul, feeling like it was the best fit for you between the group of people without causing another shuffle. 

Paul scanned the lineup, eyes flicking between you and Fred when his eyes narrowed slightly. “This won’t do.”

Without another word, he began casually nudging people aside, muttering something to Pedro, giving Joseph a knowing look. Slowly but deliberately, he carved out a space beside Fred.

A space for you.

“There. Much better,” he smirked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pulled you into place.

Your cheeks burned as Fred grinned and tugged you closer into his side. Joseph smiled knowingly at you and draped an arm across your shoulders.

Paul darted back to his place and in turn the cameras flashing intensified.

‘paul fred and y/n seem like such good friends i could cry 😢’

‘we all know paul has tiktok and hes in the loop, this man knows exactly what hes doing to us fred x y/n shippers’

‘HIM FIXING HER DRESS LIKE THAT? TOMDAYA 2.0! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS 😩’

‘guys! a lip reader figured this one out! paul: ‘you’re smitten and you’re not being subtle about it’ and FRED SAID ‘who said i wanna be subtle?’ IS HE NOT THE CUTEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD?’ ↳‘paul ships it, he’s on our team’ ↳ ‘and he was telling her how good she looks at the other end of the carpet, did you see?’ ↳ ‘at one point he even says ‘you’re my love’ and i just about melted’ ↳ ‘no he said ‘lovie’! that’s what caracalla calls her in that one scene! NO SPOILERS GUYS!!!’

‘FRED THE MAN THAT YOU ARE!!!’

‘i can’t tell if i want y/n or if i want to be her’

‘paul making sure y/n is next to fred during the group photo’ ↳ ‘did you see how joseph looked at them!! everyone ships these two!’ ↳ ‘goes to show how literally everyone is rooting for these two’ ↳ ‘so true! they’re the cutest couple ive ever seen i feel like a proud mom’

‘first he fixes the train of her dress, next he helps her when her bracelet gets stuck, then what? huh? i die? is that what these two want from me?’

‘never getting over the cast making sure theyre next to each other in the group pic, theyre so loved’ ↳ ‘you mean paul specifically lol’

After a few pictures were snapped, a coordinator in charge of the media coverage told you to reshuffle. They wanted a few photos of Fred with Joseph and Denzel, and some of just the two of them. Some of Connie and Pedro, and some with Paul as well. A mixture of photos that represented their work together on screen. And of course they wanted some of you and Fred, and some with Joseph. And the last group on the list was you, Fred, and Paul.

When Paul came to join you, he placed his arm across Fred's on your lower back, both of their hands now landing on either side of your waist. “Hey,” He smiled warmly at you. “You alright?” 

You hummed in confirmation. “Thank you for that, back there.” You tilted your head to the side, knowing Paul would understand that you meant how he made sure to put you next to Fred in the group photo.

“I have no clue what you're talking about.” He smirked, eyes fixed forwards on the cameras. But his hand squeezing lightly at your waist told you otherwise. He was so perceptive when it came to you, making you feel like you were an open book. It brought you back to a day on set. A long time ago. When the concept of you and Fred was something you were too afraid to talk about out loud in fear of ruining the magic of it. Your relationship was on the precipice, the very edge of friendship before the ocean of something more.

The day, you had confided in Paul about the very thing that led him to do what he did only moments ago.

~

“You guys are cute.” He had said, catching you admiring your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Fred on a picnic blanket. Paul had taken it the day before. Everyone on set thought it was a nice idea to have lunch outside. The weather was perfect, the grass was green, and there were butterflies everywhere. You and Fred took a blanket for yourselves, to no one’s surprise. 

It was the next day that you were sitting with Paul on the set of the Colosseum and he showed you the picture he took of you. You quickly changed your phone wallpaper after he sent you the photo at your request. It wasn’t anything fancy, his film was still getting developed, though he promised you loads of pictures from that once it was done. This picture was just taken on his phone camera, but it was just as beautiful to you. He was so talented with cameras, capturing each moment beautifully you could almost hear it.

“Thanks.” You replied, avoiding his eyes. It felt strange—this fragile stage of something new unfolding under so many watchful eyes. But you knew that would be a sacrifice that you’d have to make. Especially with how slow you were going with Fred.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Paul asked. You hummed in response, asking for elaboration. “Us watching?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, needing further explanation. He couldn’t read your mind, could he? Was he really asking about the same thing you were thinking of? Were you that easy to read? Maybe to Paul, you were.

“I know you guys are taking it slow,” Paul said softly, like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to know. Your eyes lifted to meet his. “Fred told me.”

“He talks to you about me?” You asked, your smile evident in the tone of your voice.

“Always.” He replied, smiling just as wide as you unknowingly were. You and Fred were some of his closest friends on set. You all had the same sense of humor and attitude towards life, it was easy to find companionship with the two of you. And he wasn’t surprised that you two found love within each other. But he worried about it at times. “He always talks about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” You chuckled quietly, the smile ever growing on your face as you thought of what Fred might tell Paul in your absence. Maybe he mentioned your weird obsession with stuffed animals, or how you clung to his arm whenever the two of you went for a walk.

After a beat of silence, you remembered his question and your brows knitted in thought. “Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Paul inhaled through his nose and looked out onto the bleachers ahead of you. “I don’t know… It’s just that- I don’t think I would be comfortable in your position, is all.”

“Why is that?” You knew how you felt about it all, but you always explained away your emotions. A bad habit, you knew. But you were genuinely curious and wanted to hear a somewhat objective opinion on this whole situation. 

“Just feels so-” He looked back at you now, studying you. Hoping, even, to see something telling in your expression at his confession. “Exposed, in a way. Raw. Like these feelings that really only one person should know about are on display to everyone around me.”

“Says the guy who had a first date on a live stream.” You retorted, the playful jab coming quick to mind.

Paul shook his head with a chuckle. “You know what I mean, dickhead.”

Your head cocked to the side as you thought of his words, truly taking them in. “I guess it does kind of make me feel strange.”

“Yeah?” Paul’s brows raised, appraising your face once more.

You nodded with a hum. “I’ve never- I mean, I’ve never really had a proper relationship. I don’t think I can even call this one a proper relationship. Not yet, anyways. And when I really think of it, it does feel a little unfair that what I always thought would be intimate and private is on display like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul spoke morosely.

“It’s not your fault.” You smiled softly, placing your hand on his. 

“Feels like it is sometimes.” He admitted. You shot him a questioning look. “‘Cause of the pictures.” He explained. “I just want to capture the moment. For you guys, not for anyone else. But whenever I point a camera your way, it’s like I’m pulling everyone’s attention to you with it. I feel guilty whenever you two are having a moment and everyone’s staring. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I think we’re asking for it a little.” You huffed out a laugh, squinting in the sun. The underlying bitterness in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Paul. “It’s a bit dumb to try and start a relationship in an environment like this. Months on end on one set with the same group of people. It’s annoying to have everyone’s attention like that, but everyone else probably thinks we’re annoying too.”

“No, don’t say that.” Paul shook his head, his eyes sharp as he shot down your self-blame. “You don’t plan out relationships in advance, that’s not how things work. We’re not like normal people, we don’t get to clock out and go home when time’s up. We’ve moved to fuckin’ Malta, we film day and night. We eat, sleep, and breathe on this set. And if something like that does happen, where would you even hide it? You can’t! Not that well anyways… You guys are doing this well. Better than most.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded with certainty. “And I… I didn’t know this was your first relationship. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.” He apologized again and your heart squeezed. 

“Yeah.” Your lips pressed together in a combination of agreement and embarrassment. “But it’s okay. To answer your question, I mean. I don’t think- I don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“No?”

“No.” You shook your head. “He makes me feel safe—like I’m home. Like we’re in a bubble where nothing bad can happen.”

~

Tucked into Fred’s side, surrounded by the cameras and the noise of the final premiere, you felt that same comfort—like you were in your own bubble with him. There were still interviews, panels, and endless appearances ahead, but this moment felt like the end of something special. And you were grateful that Fred was here, anchoring you through it all.

next part>>

[sabxhere]

Because if it's not love

Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb

The bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb

That will bring us together💥🎶💖

Back to my drawing au grind after being freed from my stupid uni exam, THIS TIME WITH THE BASSSITTER AU BY MY FRIEND @nyaboshiikun!!!💖💖💖AHHHH, so happy to have finally drawn something for it, I’ve wanted to for so long!!! THEY’RE LITERALLY THE CUTEST LITTLE GUYS EVER WWBWBEBEBEBSNNSN

[bumfuzzled-bee]

Frens !!

[tytolito]

"he listened with seeming impassiveness; but his nostrils twitched and his eyes blazed as I told how the ruthless hands of the Count had held his wife in that terrible and horrid position, with her mouth to the open wound in his breast. It interested me, even at that moment, to see, that, whilst the face of white set passion worked convulsively over the bowed head, the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked the ruffled hair."

[screechingfromthevoid]

You know what I love about the kiss? How fucking joyful it was. It was so light and so happy and so freeing.

The confession was so heavy and came at the last possible moment. Dorian was in his lower register, careful and eloquent. Orym had folded in on himself, shy and quiet. They have the weight of the world in their shoulders and they just needed a moment alone together. To say I love you. To let the other know. It all hinged on the moment before there was no going back.

But this. The kiss. It was after laughter and wedding planning and appreciating little things like lavender honey. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was feeling good. For whatever reason it didn't feel hopeless then. In that moment futures existed. Tomorrows existed. And Orym had one. Orym had a future and a tomorrow in Dorian.

Orym was so moved by all the happiness in the air that he confidently took Dorian by the hand to bring him out to the hall, told, then asked, him he was going to kiss him. All of Orym's fears melt away for ten whole seconds. Dorian stuttered and fumbled his words and kissed him back.

It was so cute. It was so joyous.

You know what it reminds me of? The stolen century. After Lup and Barry fall in love over years and years and they play this beautiful duet together. They lock eyes and smile at each other and steal away, running up the valley, away from it all. That moment of holding each other and just keep on not letting go.

The unrelenting giddiness of it all. The excitement. The glee. The promise of future. Wanting a future. Especially if it's together.

[fortress-rising]

Spy, the locals have decided

Since you said you ‘still had the body for it’, its time to wear the dress, the prettiest one you can find

(Warning, some may go wild because of how much of a girl boss)

....Wow.

(bonus)

[stiltonbasket]

qht!sy trying to help sj at the start instead of hating him from the get go really makes their backstory more delicious. especially if qht!sy sympathised with sj and actually grew to like parts of him only to keep being let down as sj refuses to change.

ahhh im just enjoying this au so much! can't wait to see where it goes😍

Their backstory is very tasty, I'll admit. QHT!Shen Yuan did sympathize with Shen Jiu; and Shen Jiu loves Shen Yuan in his own strange way (not quite a romantic way, though he perceives it as such--it's more a mixture of familial affection, guilt, and extreme possessiveness), but not enough to stop behaving in a way that hurts him.

As for where the story is going - the next tumblr ficlet will be about the Immortal Alliance Conference!

[locatebiome]

Hello hello! I'm especially curious on your headcanons of Herobrine as a romantic partner 👀 If you don't mind sharing!

MAKES OUT WITH YOU SLOPPY STYLE FOR SENDING THIS

sorry to keep you waiting anon, it took me a few days to answer because i had a LOT to say!! thank you so much for giving me the chance to ramble about this ahhhh i love him so much <333 everyone reading this you are Encouraged to tell me what you think, i LOVE seeing people's reactions to my guy!!

one MILLION bullet points under the cut because this got LONG. enjoy!!

I see Herobrine as bi/pan, demisexual, and some flavor of aromantic spectrum, though he doesn't know that vocabulary exists and doesn't care to find out. He definitely does experience feelings that could probably be classified as romantic attraction if he wanted to put a label to it (he does not). In fact, he tends to be put off by hard lines drawn between "close friendship" and "romantic relationship", and to a lesser extent, labels in general; he'll happily take you out for dinner and kiss you under the stars, but he can't call it "a date".

As previously mentioned in an ask game, Herobrine is incredibly slow to trust. The first several times someone looks out for him, or tries to include him in something, or is bummed out by his absence, he has no idea how to respond and usually freezes for a few seconds, then tries to joke about it to remove any potential for emotional depth, or just ignores it entirely. As time goes on and that person continues to reach out without leveraging their niceties against him as a bargaining chip, he begins to accept their kindness at face value and responds more genuinely.

He responds similarly to being given gifts. If it's something practical that he'd want more of (example: redstone components), he might fake gratitude at first to encourage more of the same, followed by suspicion when the gifts pass the threshold of "too" nice, and eventually real appreciation. Once you've seen his actual gratitude, the difference between genuine and fake thankfulness is striking; when faking it, he's smooth and articulate, approving but aloof. When actually thankful, he gets excited over the details of the gift for a minute, and only if you're lucky, will he remember to thank you for it afterward. (That's okay, seeing a genuine smile from him is usually thanks enough.)

As you may have gathered, Herobrine isn't big on words of affirmation. He has a reputation to maintain, after all. His affection is better expressed through keeping hostile mobs off your back, bringing you on adventures, giving thoughtful gifts, being a massive fucking annoyance, teasing, physical touch, and setting non-lethal traps.

"aw cute wait what was that last thing" ok in his defense, this one's not entirely his fault. First of all, one of the ways the universe itself shows love is by giving you things to do and explore, challenging you, rewarding you for getting through it, and due to his unique awareness of the universe as a whole, that "love language" bleeds into his mannerisms as well. Secondly, after so long interacting with humanity in the role of the boogeyman, Herobrine kind of... doesn't know anything else. And hey, him putting in the extra effort to make sure his traps can't inflict more than a few bruises or scrapes means he likes you!

The good news is, as long as you're close with him, hostile mobs will never bother you ever again. And if they do, he'll make a show out of intimidating said mobs and getting across the point "they're with me." which some viewers may find attractive. (This will end up teaching Casey some really bad habits later in We Are The Daylight LOL)

That's convenient, because one of his greatest joys in life is savoring the awe on someone's face when confronted with the beauty of the natural world and/or the complexity of his projects; which is easier to achieve without mobs being a distraction. He's always enjoyed exploring weird formations or experimenting with contraptions, but if he enjoys your presence, getting to do that and banter with you at the same time is even better.

One can only hope you feel the same, because you're not getting a choice in the matter. He'll just show up, interrupt whatever you're doing, and goad you into/physically drag you into coming with.

This leads nicely into my next point, which is that Herobrine is really fucking annoying. He'll appear without warning to make you jump, offer unprompted commentary and ominous "advice"(?), and says shit like "dude why'd you do that?" when you make an obviously unintentional mistake. guy who teleports behind you just to say "nothing personnel kid 😎". And as the two of you get closer, this begins to include insufferable play-flirting (until the plausible deniability is no longer plausible and it's clearly just. flirting.)

However, he also quietly looks out for you in his own ways. If you offhandedly mention wanting a specific thing, or if he notices you being inconvenienced by lacking something, he'll either make it himself or keep an eye out for it until he can find one and give it to you. If you get hurt, he'll carry on about how reckless and stupid humans are, and won't let you go anywhere until he's had the chance to look at it and cast a quick healing command. When exploring, you'll often come across small signs of his presence, ranging from strangely symmetrical nooks and crannies in a cave, to lone redstone torches, to flowers that are somehow growing underground. As well as... not so small signs of his presence (i.e. corridors lined with traps).

Herobrine likes to show you jaw-dropping caves and vistas, point out constellations until you're falling asleep under the night sky, explore ancient structures and biomes you've never seen before floating by your side, teach you dances he picked up from illager and piglin culture... If he had to pick just one "love language", ultimately it'd boil down to sharing the universe with you.

For all his teasing and unusual ideas of affection, when you're actually truly upset, he does want to help (much to his own chagrin). His methods can be abrasive, as his go-to strategy is to pester you until you tell him what's bothering you (he's very "do as I say, not as I do" in this regard, I fear). But if you make it clear that talking about it right now wouldn't help, he'll switch to much gentler tactics, and attempt to distract you or just be a quiet, calming presence for once. Surprisingly, he gives really good back rubs, which is his go-to strategy to calm someone down and cheer them up a little.

Especially post-banishment, Herobrine is possibly the most touch-starved individual alive. I don't think he could ever be the first to initiate physical contact in a relationship, but once you've gotten to the point where you can playfully punch his arm or roll your eyes and push him away when he's fucking with you, he's the touchiest mfer on the planet. Constantly leaning on you to be obnoxious, ruffling your hair to say hello or good-bye, grabbing your hand to lead you places, flexing his height by resting his chin on the top of your head (he's 6'0" btw) (if you're taller than him he'll simply float to make up the difference anyway) (says he's 5'10" to make other guys panic about their height). Pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you and bury his face in your shoulder during quiet moments in the morning or at night. Melting into the touch helplessly when you cup his jaw. When in bed together, he's either the big spoon or using your chest as a pillow.

He's especially fixated on heartbeats. When laying around or leaning on each other comfortably, he'll slide his hand up your arm and idly rest his fingertips on your pulse. When his hands are near your hands or wrists for any other reason, before moving away he usually checks your pulse without thinking about it. It's almost like he needs to keep reassuring himself you're still alive. His favorite pulse point is the carotid artery because its beat feels so strong, but grabbing someone's neck isn't really something you can do casually so it's saved for special occasions (emotionally-vulnerable cuddling, after waking up from a nightmare and accidentally waking you in the process, sexual encounters, etc.)

It doesn't come up a lot because he doesn't hang out in populated public spaces a lot, but he has absolutely NO shame around PDA. Herobrine is already used to being stared at wherever he goes anyway; so let 'em stare, fuck are they gonna do about it? Confront him? Yeah, right. The majority of the time he doesn't care either way, but sometimes, if someone's really annoying him, he'll get more physically affectionate just to fuck with them.

Similarly, he wouldn't get the chance very often, but if someone else is talking to you and making you uncomfortable? I think he would fucking relish the opportunity to be all threatening and intimidating until they back off. He likes feeling helpful! (He likes being protective.)

Over time, as he gets more and more comfortable with the relationship dynamic, Herobrine doesn't mind you or outside observers referring to the two of you as the romantic partner of the other. Honestly, he might even like it :] Deep down, he's fond of the idea of you being his human.

[geddyqueer]

listen. you all know me. i'm a guy who is very pro-weird and toxic dynamics. that's great to explore in fiction! love it! but i'm going to be honest. the fact that every day i have to scroll past fics in the bucktommy tag where the writer has cast tommy, a canonically gay man, as this abusive violent piece of shit only to have eddie swoop in and rescue buck, while in reality ryan guzman is out here consciously playing eddie as getting violent against buck, is really fucking irritating. and i'm never going to tell people to stop writing whatever they want, but i wish i didn't have to fucking see it lmao

[cottoncandylesbo]

have you seen the new Dwebble card. its so cutes

HE IS GOING TO PASS THE MIRROR TEST 😭😭😭😭😭 THE HUMAN RACE IS FUCKED

[inkie-does-whump]

Lab AU Masterpost

Characters are sorted by the order they were introduced into the lab. Posts that contain several characters will be listed more than once

Content warning! This AU may contain: physical and mental abuse, SA, harassment, and eating disorders. Posts with be labeled individually with warnings

Click here for the Fic Masterpost

Watchers:

A lil bit of clarifying info

What painkillers do the Watchers give them?

01 Grian:

(art) main post

(oneshot) you'll look back and laugh someday

(art) soulbound with Scar

02 Martyn:

What are Martyn and Ren like?

(oneshot) Pop your pills and force a smile

Big ask featuring the Netty/Martyn relationship

(art) Cleo and Martyn soulbound

Missing Netty

03 Netty:

Big ask featuring the Netty/Martyn relationship

04 Jimmy:

Main post

Has he ever been put on drugs?

Has he ever tried to hide from renting?

Is he given painkillers?

Ranchers???

(art) Lizzie and Jimmy

(art) Ranchers and Soul Binding

On Panic Boxes

Toy Jimmy <3

05 Bigb:

Lil info on Bigb

(oneshot) This ring around my finger

10 Taurtis:

11 Pearl:

Main post

Skizz fails to save Pearl

About Pearl and Scott's Soul Binding

On Panic Boxes

12 Scar:

Main post

Scar and Bdubs

(oneshot) you'll look back and laugh someday

Big ask featuring the Mumbo/Scar friendship

(art) soulbound with Grian

13 Scott:

(art) Scott in a corset

(oneshot) Pop your pills and force a smile

Big ask featuring what Scott gets rented for

About Pearl and Scott's Soul Binding

Main post

(oneshot) I'll be worth more

Side effects of the Quiet Room

14 Ren:

What are Martyn and Ren like?

Big ask featuring Ren's relationship with others

(oneshot) This ring around my finge

Ren as Lizzie's guard dog

15 Bdubs:

Main post

Scar and Bdubs

16 Etho:

Main post

(art) lil bit of info

(oneshot) Cleo's first few days

17 Tango:

(art) main post

Ranchers???

Tango and the history of the lab

(art) Ranchers and Soul Binding

(oneshot) Some Of Us Float

18 Impulse:

(art) main post

Lil info about what Impulse is rented for

(oneshot) cause you'll miss the sun

19 Skizz:

(art) main post

About Skizz and his escape

The worst rental situation

(oneshot) cause you'll miss the sun

20 Cleo:

What is a giant zombie?

(art) Cleo and Martyn soulbound

(oneshot) Cleo's first few days

21 Joel:

(art) Lizzie and Joel

(art) lil bit of info

Lizzie and Jimmy backstory

(oneshot) Lizzie/Joel angst

Lizzie/Joel reunite SL SMP

(oneshot) maybe you're right and maybe I've been used up

22 Mumbo:

(oneshot) you'll look back and laugh someday

Big ask featuring the Mumbo/Scar friendship

Has Mumbo ever been drugged?

On Mumbo and Lizzie's absence

23 Lizzie:

(art) main post

(art) Lizzie and Jimmy

(art) lil bit of info

About her renters

(oneshot) Lizzie/Joel angst

On Mumbo and Lizzie's absence

(oneshot) Maybe you're right and maybe I've been used up

Ren as Lizzie's guard dog

24 Gem:

Main post

(art) lil bit of info

Hermits:

Xisuma

(oneshot) Some Of Us Float

Emperors:

Toy Jimmy brainstorming

Toy Jimmy also Fwhip is here

Other:

AU summary

Another AU summary lol

Subject relationships

How do the Watchers choose who to kidnap?

What do subjects get rented for?

Races/species

Tango and the history of the lab

Poll :)

Soul Binding!

Boogeyman brainstorming???

Oneshot about the boogeyman :3

Hurting subjects for leverage

The rental process

[floweycidal]

hey op i know youre insane over flowey so i thought id share my brain with you

have we considered the chara parallels in undertale yellows neutral run? as in. how flowey is pissed that midway through the plan clover went back on it? how flowey probably said something that chara said in the moment frustrated? im ill.

HEY OP I KNOW YOU’RE INSANE OVER FLOWEY HAHAHA INSANE START /SILLY

ah, yes, yes! you've come to the right place. please, make yourself at home. i’ll handle your brain with the utmost care.

OUDHUHGH YUUUP, we've (me, myself, and i) absolutely considered all that. and more!

but see, i personally never thought that was all there is to it. it would’ve been far too facile, much too pat, to assume chara had just... snapped at him in their final moments. that they’d cursed his name, branded him a traitor, made their hatred crystal clear.

oh, how delightfully clean that would’ve been for him. because then he’d get his closure, wouldn’t he? an answer, wrapped up all pretty just for him.

"i betrayed them. they loathed me for it. the end."

HA! too polished for my liking. no thanks. closure is reserved for those who can find resolution. and flowey, my son who's got everything wrong with him, has never been one to receive that kind of accord. he doesn't get straightforward, not then, not now, not ever.

in my head, flowey woke up in that garden with gaping holes in his memory of the incident. not total oblivion—never that generous. instead, it was bits and pieces. just enough to know. enough to understand that it was his fault. his frailty. his failure that brought him to this point.

but chara's last moments? their final utterance? those are lost to him. gone. TORN.

he never gets that confirmation. or, more precisely… he doesn’t remember. can’t remember. mwhahaha…

what does spring to mind, however, is the terror. the detestation that wracked their shared body. the oppressive shame that pervaded every step he didn't take. 

but then... at the time... who was feeling what exactly? who blazed with fury, and who broke beneath it? did someone beg? did someone weep? was it him? was it chara? who was hating whom in those parting moments? the harder he tries to remember, the further it slips away.

and because flowey's never met a void he didn’t try to fill, he does what he’s always excelled at. he patches the blanks. projects, narrates. 

his guilt demands a story, and so he obliges. in his version, every foul emotion, every drop of vitriol, was aimed squarely at him. how could it not have been?

chara MUST have surely thought he was an idiot. a weak, cowardly, sniveling idiot. a pathetic creature who couldn’t even get one plan right. couldn’t even die properly!

the self-blame constricts him like a vice, and with every reset, the narrative grows more discordant. he doesn’t just wonder if chara felt let down, he KNOWS they did. feels "their" revulsion rooted in his stem, their disappointment rotting his petals from the inside out with every cycle.

when clover comes along, he's elated. this is his shot at a fresh start. a second chance. the perfect subject for redemption, for forgiveness by proxy. his very own moment to fix everything, to prove that he’s changed. gone were the days when any plan was doomed with him around. this time, he was going to make it work. are you looking, chara?

but when clover hesitates... wavers the way he once did... flowey FREAKS.

he doesn’t see clover anymore. he sees HIM. he doesn’t hear his own voice, either. he hears the chara he’s created. the version that exists only in the cruel theater of his own mind. the variation that would never absolve him. that would never understand. that would only revile him.

the words he chucks at clover are the same accusations he believes chara would have spat at him, the same venom he’s already used to poison himself.

the words fall into insignificance, though, because much like the first time, the plan fell apart regardless of whether he condemned asriel clover or not.

all he was left with now was his certainty. chara HATED him.

and they were right to.