#Please tell me what you think!

[mackerel1522]

Hey guys, have we already considered that maybe Fyodor is the same as IRL!Dostoevsky?

We know he already met Bram at least a few times and Bram Stoker's "Dracula" is set in the late 19th century - the same century IRL!Dostoevsky lived in.

What I'm trying to say is: What if our Fedya was actually born in 1821 just like the real author? What if our Fedya is actually the Dostoevsky?

First: Dostoyevsky's Works

Fyodor's character/ability/environment containt lots of references to most of his works:

- Crime and Punishment: the crime is being killed and as a punishment he take over the body of the killer + his character is heavely Raskonikov-coded

- The Demons: Fyodor is often refered to as a demon (or as the "Northern Devil")

*also another title of this novel is 'The Possessed' which heavily refers to his ability too

- Notes From The Underground: Fyodor's philosophy has a lot in common with the one of the "Underground Man" (the narrator and protagonist of the novella)

- The House of the Dead: his organisation "Rats in the House of the Dead" is based partially on the novel

- The Gambler: we see him play at the begining of the manga against Ace (and nails it) + later the Sky Casino where he sends Sigma

(The list continues but it'd take way too long for me to cover all of it TuT')

- The Double: his double-personality-faking after his breakdown in mersault is "The Double"-coded

- The Brothers Karamazov: in an interview, Asagiri revealed he based most of Fyodor's personality on a scene of the novel (the one where Ivan Karamazov talks to 'the devil')

Secondly: Rodion Raskolnikov

Fyodor and Rodion share a lot of common points - Fyodor being heavely Raskolnikov-coded:

First and most obvious: Fedya's ability is C&P and Rodya is the protagonist from C&P

The complex personality: Fyodor is a highly intelligent and enigmatic character. He is confident, exceptionally intelligent, manipulative and can easily see through his enemies' desires and plans. Rodion, on the other hand, is a lonely former student who actively rejects the society's morality. Just like Fedya, Rodya considers himself an exceptional man and wants to test the limits of his own freedom by committing murder. His personality is also tormented and complex.

Common themes: Both characters explore deep themes such as guilt, suffering, redemption and human nature. They both embody dark and complex aspects of the human psyche.

Thirdly: Dostoyevsky and Dostoyevsky

IRL!Dostoyevsky and Our!Dostoyevsky also have a lot of common points:

Personality/Lives:

Both were born on November 11 in Russia

Both have been sentenced to death/sent to prison

Both are very religious people

Both traveled a lot around the world

Both have chronic illnesses (epilepsy/anemia)

Both share a similar philosophy (Orthodox Christianity and Utopian Socialism)

Common themes: religion, redemption, guilt, suffering, human nature, gambling, death, chronic illness, psychology, etc...

Fourthly: Crime and Punishment

"I am crime. I am punishment. Crime and punishment are close friends. Borders vanish. Rooms awaken. The incarnation of death, the master of the ability-consuming fog… Eat, howl, and make violence as your instinct desires. This is neither a loss of control nor a singularity." - Fyodor Dostoyevsky (Bungo Stray Dogs Dead Apple)

There is definitely more to Fyodor's ability than "just" possessing the one who just killed him. For instance we have what happened in Dead Apple but we also have some more details that should be noticed (I think): Don't you find it intriguing how everytime before he dies his eyes are light but once he is resurrected his eyes turn dark again? The same happens when he fakes a double personality after his breakdown in mersault: his eyes turn the lightest we've ever seen him have but once he abandons the act they turn pitch black again.

Y'all remember how Harukawa said something like "the darker the eyes, the darker the personality, the lighter the eyes, the closest they are to the good side"? (sorry I don't remember the correct quote but it's something like that)

Intriguing, huh?

Finally: "Dostoyevsky is immortal!"

In his novel "The Master and Margarita", Mikhail Bulgakov says "Dostoyevsky is immortal!". In the manga, we just learned Fyodor's ability which, as said before, consist basically in taking over the body of the one who just killed him. Based on all the canon events of the manga, mostly everything conducts us to think Dostoyevsky's, in fact, immortal. Could Asagiri have been inspired by this quote? That could be possible. (Would it be extremely cool? Hell yeah.)

What if our Dostoyevsky is the Dostoyevsky but in a reality where he is, in fact, immortal?

What do you guys think about it? Do you have another theory? Do you wanna add something? (I'm open to everything! Tell me what you think - whether it's the same or the opposite, I'm curious!)

[pomie-fruitshake]

Part 2!

part 1:

----

"Haha what do you mean MC?" He says wholeheartedly and gets up, walking over to me. "It must've been a trick of light."

He smiles at me as he now stands before me, no tears in sight. He looks like always, mischievous and hot. And I now realize I have been staring too long at him. "Hmmm.. alright…" I eye him suspiciously and get up from my place at his table.

Solomon just chuckles softly. "You can continue staring, dear apprentice." I know he's grinning, I can hear it. And when I turn to look at him I see it too.

That smug smile, I feel my face heat up as I am packing my books and other study materials. "I'll stare at you some other time, magic man." I turn away and smile to myself. He giggled!

As I finish packing everything and am ready to go I hear him mumble something. But I can't make out anything besides the word 'leave'. Then our eyes meet and he just smiles softly. "I hope my room was a good place to study." He grins. "Of course you're welcome to come by anytime ~"

I perk up. This is my chance to tease him. "Oh really? Anytime?" I am grinning now too. And it seems like everything is light-hearted like it always was. But I can't ignore his tears.. the sadness I sometimes see in his eyes. Something is happening with Solomon! Something is clearly-

"Always, MC."

"..Always…?" I was too deep in my thoughts. Thankfully he didn't notice.

He is still smiling as he guides me to his door. "Yes, always." "…" "MC?.." He looks nervous for a moment. Which makes me nervous in turn. Just what does he want to ask?

[airinyourtires]

The Planetary Commonwealth of Demos

Population: 1,923,827,527 Capital: Consensus (21°10'18"N 10°02'30"E) Demonyms: Democrat(s), Democratic, Citizen(s) (rarely) Government: Direct Democracy/Absolute Theocracy [see "Government System" section for more information] Currency: None (de jure), OIU Diplomata (de facto) Religion: Democracy 99.9% [see "Government System" section for more information] Species: Multiple 56%, Cecrian 33%, Moryntese 8%, other 3% Languages: Democratic Cecrian, Diplomatic (co-official)

History

Demos is a small, habitable planet on the charmmost edge of the known galaxy. It orbits the star DP-23875 (called "Lefterilos" by the people of Demos) for a period of approximately 47.5 standard years. It has no permanent natural satellites and its rotational period is roughly equivalent to two standard days.

Evidence suggests that Demos was first visited by the Psh'wsh during the First Hegemony. They began the terraforming processes that led to its modern habitability, but there is no evidence to suggest they were able to establish a permanent population prior to the Great Scouring.

Wreckage indicates that a vessel from '''' sustained damage over Demos at some point during the Sixth Hegemony. It is unknown if there were any casualties, as no remains survived.

The first known permanent settlements were established by a group of exiled Cecrian rebels during the reign of Emperor Áschetos XIX, about a century prior to the conclusion of the Eighth Hegemony. They founded the settlement of Consensus (named because they were unable to decide on a name) and attempted to establish a democratic society.

Throughout the first decade, conflict was frequent and Consensus nearly burned down after the supposed assassination of Consensus's Archon, Gnorízon, who shortly thereafter returned to the city, citing a divine revelation. Under his leadership, according to the Minutes, the planet's meticulously-kept records which begin at this time, most disagreements abated and the city truly began to live up to its name.

Numerous other major cities were constructed after this time, and, by the time contact was reestablished by members of the Unity Corps, the planet had nearly grown to its current population. The language spoken today on Demos, Democratic Cecrian, began to diverge from Late Imperial Cecrian around this time. The Planetary Commonwealth of Demos entered the Organization for Interplanetary Unity less than ten standard days after it began the process, a record beaten only by Morynt after its War of Unification.

Demos has largely remained uninvolved in galactic affairs outside of the OUI, though it did send weapons to the Radiant Legion during its fight against the neo-imperialist coup on Cecria.

Government System

Demos's government is operated in a manner reminiscent of, but not identical to, those of many other planets. Each settlement is ruled by an archon. Those in Consensus are referred to as archon(s) president, as on Cecria, and those outside are referred to as archon(s) deputy. They serve lifetime appointments, and, following their death or resignation, they will be replaced by an eligible adult citizen.

The archons are said to channel the words of the Spirit of the People, referred to simply as Demos, a deity worshiped by the vast majority of the population. It is believed that Demos is, essentially, a collective consciousness, which represents the true desires of all of the planet's populace. Instead of elections, it is believed, Demos is a more constant representation, able to react in real-time to any circumstances to which new policy would pertain. To serve as its deputy, therefore, is considered a great and solemn duty, one which is not taken lightly. Only those who are truly ready to channel the collective will of an entire planet are chosen to be Demos's deputies.

However, the truth of these statements is disputed. Some claim that Demos is, if it truly knows the will of its entire population, a totalitarian ruler with an iron fist stronger than even the most authoritarian rulers of the past Eight Hegemonies. Others claim that Demos is either false or its abilities are exaggerated, and that the extant leaders hold the real power. The truth of either possibility remains controversial.

Travel

Demos is remote, but in the event that you should find yourself there, you should not worry. Transportation is inexpensive (and free for citizens), and lodging can be found in any major city. The people will generally be distant and aloof, but, overall, not unfriendly. Refrain from making comments about their government system or comparing them to any others. You will not face any legal punishment, but it is considered a major social faux pas.

There is work available for outsiders, though not a lot - manual labor is needed, but most other types of jobs are filled by citizens, except for jobs in diplomacy (see your own planet or other polity's embassy for more information).

Extraterrestrials are not often offered permanent residency, but those who have are entitled to participation in the governmental system, and several have even become deputies. However, thus far, nobody who has become a citizen has left the planet after becoming a citizen.

- from the Unity Corps Galactic Overview, 234th Edition.

[potterandpromises]

if brokenness is a work of art, surely this must be my masterpiece

I finished Only Murders In the Building last weekend and these two have taken over my brain. Predictably, I needed to write the missing space between when Theo sees Mabel on the subway and when she wakes up in his bed ASAP.

As it isn’t clear whare Theo’s new apartment is, I choose to set it in the Arconia, because there’s something heartbreaking about the idea of him walking into a building full of people he’s known (of) his whole life, none of whom he can turn to for help.

The title is from Neptune by Sleeping at Last.

Also on AO3

Theo catches up with Mabel a block from the subway entrance. She’s stopped fleeing, stands under a streetlight pole, gaze unfocused, a bloody object griped in her hand.

He gets ready to bear hug her in case she turns and steps into traffic at the sight of him.

“Are you hurt?” he signs slowly, carefully mouths the words.

She looks up, looks right through him.

He glances over his shoulder. A few people are staring, but at least nobody’s whipped out their smartphones. Yet.

“That blood on your sleave isn’t yours, is it?”

She doesn’t react, doesn’t even look down to see what he’s indicating. It wouldn’t make a difference if she knew ASL. Not tonight. Probably, her reaction would be the same if he spoke English or Icelandic. He’s not even sure she recognizes him through her fog. That might be for the best.

He slouches, makes himself a little smaller, takes another step towards her.

“Let me take you back to my apartment,” he signs, “so you can rest.”

In his peripheral, some guy pulls out his phone. Theo takes a chance. He puts one arm around Mabel’s shoulder.

She lets him.

With his free hand, he pries what he realizes is a blood-covered knitting needle from her fingers. She watches his hand, face imperceivable.

He shoves the knitting needle into a side pocket, keeps his arm around her shoulder, and gently but firmly turns her around.

One foot in front of the other, he tracks the looks from strangers, the sidewalk before them, and Mabel’s face. 15 minutes, he pulls her along and she doesn’t open her mouth once, as far as he catches.

He guides her through a side entrance of the Arconia. It’s five flights of stairs to his new apartment.

She begins to shiver. Theo sweats under his coat.

He unlocks the door, leads her to his bed and pulls the comforter onto her lap. Belatedly, he wonders if she’ll get the wrong idea, maybe punch him in the face. He can’t say he wouldn’t forgive her. Immediately.

Her shaking becomes less violent. She looks around the room, bewildered. He turns off the overhead light and switches on the lamp. Without warning, she starts to pull at her coat as if it were strangling her.

He steps in, ready to help her out of it, and takes in her baby blue sweater. He triple checks that the blood really does belong to her attacker.

She stops struggling and glares up at him. Her coat still clings behind her shoulders.

“Sorry.” He helps her out of it, drops it in a pile on the foot of his bed.

Theo walks the few feet to his couch, tries to feel less creepy. This would all probably be easier if he had a female friend to call. Or anyone.

“I will sleep on the couch tonight.” He gestures to it, makes himself very clear. “Try to rest now, you’ll feel better in the morning.” Hopefully, anyway. “Goodnight.”

Mabel stares at him dully. Her head tips forward slightly and, to his utter shock, she flops backward into his pillow.

His chest is tight. He doesn’t care to examine why. Mabel rolls onto her side, adjusts a hoop earing, and goes still.

He’s still. For what feels like hours but must only be a few minutes, he is frozen in place.

Hot. He’s hot.

He takes off his coat and empties the pockets, leaves the Coney Island badge on the coffee table and washes the knitting needle clean under the tap.

Groceries. He’d meant to get groceries. It’ll have to wait, of course. Sleep will have to wait, too. He’s too wired.

He sits on the couch and pulls out his phone to occupy himself. He means to google tips on how to deal with a person in shock, just in case he’s missed something important, but he opens Twitter instead.

#bloodymabel is trending again.

[sassypantsjaxon]

Since I seem to have a bad habit of making playlists for fics I might never write, do you wanna see my objectively correct 80s alternative/80s inspired erasermic playlist?

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[haliaiii]

Please tell me I’m not the only one who sees this

[wavetapper]

rb this and tag your favourite soundtracks! they can be anything like games or movies or shows or whatever i wanna know what the best ones are 👀

[zzzenmui]

🌟 Monday's Melancholy 🎈

Extended version YT link: 【手描きプロセカ】 月曜日の憂鬱 (Monday's Melancholy) 【司類司】

About Monday’s Melancholy with Tsukasa and Rui. It’s about their first official meeting on kamikou’s rooftop. That’s why they’re wearing indoor slippers. and the drone in the title ahaha

The second half, it progresses from events… mainstory -> kamifes -> wms -> dazzling light. Other than it going by events, the colour also goes from orange/yellow (Tsukasa) -> pink (Emu) -> green (Nene) -> purple (Rui). The order of who officially joined the group.

A little something Rui’s Phenoix Wonderland’s ticket hm

[dollopole]

There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.

And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.

Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).

I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:

“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.

Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.

And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.

And they do:

I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.

The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.

He has Arthur to protect.

The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.

Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.

Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.

Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.

[eloscore]

impossible minecraft more like. um. uuummmm........ uhhhhhh

[thedisablednaturalist]

physically disabled person: hi

every abled neurodivergent person in the whole world: Hi I know this isn't about autism but I have executive dysfunction and I really think we should talk about that more not to derail or anything I just wanted to share my experience :) don't forget that not all disabilities are visible! I have anxiety and depression and this explains sooo much!

[dukeofthomas]

I find the fact that the confrontation at the end of UTRH is often summarized as Jason asking Bruce to kill the Joker for him fascinating.

Because that's not what happened.

Jason holds a gun up to Joker's head, gives Bruce another, and tells him that if Bruce doesn't do something (shoot Jason), he will kill Joker.

Jason doesn't give the gun to Bruce so that he would shoot Joker. He isn't expecting Bruce to pull the trigger on the clown. He's asking Bruce to do nothing. To be inactive. Because that will still be a choice, and despite having done nothing, everybody clearly agrees that Bruce would still, at least in part, be responsible for Joker's death.

...And to me, this moment is a kind of- microcosm, of the rest of Jason's point. Because after being captured and carted off to Arkham, the villain will escape again, and will kill more people. The only way to truly prevent that from happening would be to kill them; Bruce refuses to do so, and I respect his right to choose such a thing for himself, but it is still a choice, and if we agree that Bruce's inaction during the confrontation would leave him at least partly responsible for the Joker's death, then we must also agree that his inaction in permanently preventing the Rogues from killing more people means he is also, partly, responsible for all of those deaths.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[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.

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