#but i keep making them because it brings me joy

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi, I was wondering… could you write a scenario/one-shot with the player Player(Reader) where instead of the final battle with Doey we manage to calm him down and comfort him after Safe Haven was destroyed.

idk I just want to hug the Dough Boy

Ngl I had this one requested to me by like 5 people. So here's that much-needed fix it fic <3

.........

Hearing the distant screaming of who you could only assume was Doey, you rushed through the tunnel with a pounding heart.

You've never felt more terrified than you did right now.

Not long after killing the Doctor, the Prototype decided to make his move and lay waste to the Safe Haven. Ollie alerted you to the situation and told you how to repair the generator while Doey and the others fended off the outside threat.

Then you headed down to the foundation at Poppy's insistence, setting up the explosives you collected and eventually running into the doughman again within the caves.

He seemed utterly confused, having been chasing the Prototype away from Safe Haven...

Only to realize too little too late that was his intention all along..

An explosion suddenly rocked the sanctuary, prompting the two of you to rush back to see how bad the destruction was. It took you a while to get there considering your limitations as a human wearing a grabpack, so you could only imagine what Doey was seeing to make him scream that loudly.

When you finally made it through the infirmary, past a handful of Mini Smiling Critter corpses, your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach, horrified at the scene before you:

The decrepit yet colorful place the toys once found safety in...was totally reduced to rubble. Small fires burned all around you---and in the midst was a little Bobby Bearhug, who Doey was currently grieving over.

They might have been a nuisance to you in the playhouse, but these ones--the ones who refused to give into their savagery during the Hour of Joy--were innocent little souls. Doey had sworn to protect them over the years, keeping them sheltered from the outside..

And in an instant, they were gone.

All of them.

Because he wasn't there.

"I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry." He choked out, seemingly unaware of your presence. "I failed you. I was never what any of you needed. I-I was only made to hurt things. My fault...my fault..." With a small sob, he brought his hands to his face.

You were utterly devastated, too.

How could this happen?

How could you let that damn machine trick you?

"Doey, I'm..." You stepped forward, only to freeze as he suddenly turned to you, now eerily silent.

The look in his big hollow eyes...was nothing short of pure anger.

"Hurt...everything hurts." He snarled, his nubby fingers balled up into fists. "Hurt back. ALWAYS hurt back. Parents. Scientists. Everyone! Have to-"

His body experienced a tremor, and he now looked utterly grief-striken once more, his voice now sounding depressed and weepy. "My friends! He killed my friends!" He sobbed, wiping at his tears.

At first you wondered what was going on with him, until you remembered the tapes and notes you've gathered throughout your journey--quite a handful discussed his time as an experiment and how he came to be, well, Doey.

Apparently the mad scientists here had the brilliant idea to take three children--boys to be precise--and blend them into one 900 pound pile of dough and bring it to life, thinking that nothing could possibly go wrong.

One of them, Kevin, had anger issues that drove him to become violent towards other children--even those who were his friends. The other was Matthew, who seemed to be the calmest and most mature, and the one you've most likely been talking to this whole time. Then there was Jack, a very young kid who fell into a dough mixer and was forced to become part of Doey as some "life-saving" measure.

Had it not been for the information you discovered, you never would've understood what was happening to the toy you've allied yourself with.

But now you realize he was unstable.

Because of the sheer trauma of Safe Haven's destruction.

"You. It all started with you." Doey pointed at you accusingly, Kevin dominating the conversation once more. "You and her...IT WAS YOU WHO RUINED EVERYTHING!!" He screamed.

"What?" Your eyes went wide, horrified that he'd blame you for all of this. "No, that's...you seriously think this was all my fault?! I had no idea this was going to happen!"

"LIAR!! You two led him to us." He growled. "You shouldn't have come back...NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME BACK!!"

His body wriggled once more, with Matthew trying his best to stay in control, afraid of what he'd might do. "No, no. That's not true. They jumpstarted the generator, they--" He smacked the side of his head, and he was lost again, Kevin's rage being too overbearing. "DESTROYED EVERYTHING!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"

'No..no, no, no...' You panicked internally, slowly backing away as you saw sharp orange teeth starting to break through his mouth. 'Please, god..don't make me hurt another one...'

Why did this have to happen again?

You were so, so tired of having to fight.

After he saved you from Pianosaurus, made his sanctuary a home to you, and kept you smiling throughout your trip inside this hellhole....it was now going to come down to either you or him walking away alive?

In a blind rage, Doey's enlarged fist swung at a concrete pillar beside him, and as it crumbled....so did the ceiling above him that was barely supported by that single pillar.

Now nothing could stop the rubble from crashing down onto him--

Except for you and your quick thinking, using both grabpack hands to grip his arms and drag him towards you with all your might. Upon release, you jumped back as he fell to the ground, looking to see the massive pile of debris he would've been buried under.

It made you feel relieved, afraid of what might've become of him.

"You...why did you do that? You think that makes you a hero?!!"

Before you could blink, Doey suddenly had you in his grasp, holding you up high in the air with both hands, itching to crush you and eat you alive. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!!" His features began distorting, looking more reptilian in nature. "I said I'd kill you!! KILL EVERYONE WHO HURTS ME!!!"

For a brief moment, you thought you saw a few pairs of glowing red eyes within his widening mouth, but they quickly retreated--except for one angry-looking set.

Yet you stared at them, your resolve unwavering. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"....what?" He was shocked by your cold answer, and that only fueled his outrage. "IDIOT?! I'M NOT THE IDIOT!! YOU'RE THE IDIOT!!!"

"Don't you get it?! This is exactly what the Prototype wants! He wants to see us fight and tear each other apart! Destroy whatever unity we had left!" You snapped, despite your voice trembling. "You think I wanted this to happen?! You think I wanted Poppy to drag me into this mess?!"

"......."

"I only came here because of a stupid note. From somebody I knew who claims they're still alive. But...they can't be. I was tricked by him. I tried to leave, but Poppy...she redirected the train that was my only way out of here, saying I'm "the only one" who can help her...but I never wanted that responsibility, Doey."

For once, "Kevin" remained silent, although he still had you in his clutches. But he looked surprised to hear that she took away your chance at escaping this place.

She never mentioned that to him.

She only said you came willingly..

"Something's not right with her. You know it. I know it. And I'm sure Kissy knows it even if she can't tell us. We've all felt used by her. To do the dirty work that somehow keeps bringing the Prototype closer to us."

"...you could have talked her out of it.." He finally responded. "Yet you...you went along with her plan anyway. YOU KILLED THEM!! KILLED MY FRIENDS!! Our friends.." Jack briefly returned, sniffling. "T-They thought you were good...they thought you were nice..I-I thought Poppy was, too."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I should have heard you out. I had no idea it was gonna lead to all of this. I swear to god..I didn't know.." You sighed shakily, hoping he'd be willing to listen to reason. "You have every right to blame me. But..we can't let them die in vain. The Doctor's gone, so all we have to do is get to him. But first...I need you to put me down."

"......"

"Please, Doey. I don't care if you hate me for this. I don't expect your forgiveness. Let's just....kill the Prototype..and you can do whatever you want to me afterwards. I'm tired of fighting people I've come to see as friends. I've got enough blood on my hands."

At first, it seemed like all your attempts at resolving this without violence were futile, as he was just breathing raggedly, like he were an animal who was too far gone.

But then you saw his features twitch, resembling what they were before. His eyes also had that familiar sad look to them, indicating Matthew had somehow regained full control--at least for the moment.

"I..." He sniffled, setting you down on the ground. "I'm sorry. We--I was just...so hurt by what happened. And....And I just looked for somebody to blame. I shouldn't have lashed out. I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, it's okay, Doey. I know you didn't mean it." You reassured him, happy he returned to his senses, before you turned around to see that same Mini-Bobby still laying on the floor, who somehow didn't get crushed by the rubble.

Without saying a word, you crouched down to pick up the little Smiling Critter, cradling her despite the blood. You saw a piece of playmat that managed to survive the explosion. Although it wasn't much, it was better than her laying on the ash-ridden concrete, so you decided to set her down on it.

Doey just looked on in silence, removing his hat as a show of respect, still mulling over his angry words and how he threatened your life.

There's no way you could have predicted the Prototype's next move.

Then, as though a miracle were sent from above...Mini-Bobby suddenly gasped, coming back to life.

Both of you were initially shocked, although you were quick to comfort her as she coughed a few times, smoking clogging her senses. "Hahh..gah..wh-what happened?" She hoarsely asked, seeing you two and the surrounding flames, before it all clicked. "The Safe Haven...it's..."

"I'm sorry. It's no more." You frowned a little, helping her sit up. "Go through that tunnel and stay quiet. I'll be there to retrieve you. Just keep yourself away from all this smoke."

She nodded managing to get up and limp towards the tunnel you came from.

Doey was astonished. "Bu....But I thought..she...."

"Looks like not everybody perished. There might be more survivors-" You turned back to face him.....only to get engulfed by his arms, and for a moment you thought Kevin returned and was about to crush you like a grape.

Until you heard loud sobbing and felt his entire body tremble, realizing it was Jack instead, and your relief returned.

"There, there, big guy." You hugged him back, smiling sadly. "You're okay. We're gonna get through this together. He'll pay for what he's done to our friends. I'll make sure of it."

"I-I don't wanna be here anymore..I just want mommy...a-and daddy..." He cried.

"I know. I don't wanna be here, either. We're gonna find a way out."

"...I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to get so angry.."

"I know you didn't. I forgive you."

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

It's Day Fifteen, so it's the Babysitting prompt. I debated having them babysit Jee-Yun or Denny and Mara, but I miss Christopher and they probably do, too. In this universe, Eddie's move to El Paso was temporary and ended sometime in the late summer so Christopher could be back in LA for his next year of school. This is also on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

They’ve got Christopher for the afternoon, because Eddie has an appointment and then a couple of errands to run. He’d mentioned his schedule the day before while Buck and Tommy had been dropping a lasagna off for them, asking Christopher if he was okay following him around for a bit, and Tommy had said:

“You know, you could always drop him off with us.”

And Eddie, who'd been spending every free moment possible with his kid and working on a lot of stuff, had been almost hesitant to say yes. Then Christopher had readily agreed, because he hadn't been hung out with them in forever. Buck had turned pleading eyes on Eddie until his best friend agreed.

“Guess I should stop hogging you, kid.”

So Buck is thrilled to have Christopher over. He hasn’t had much hangout time since they came back from El Paso, but he’s also excited to show off his and Tommy’s place to one of his favorite people. Christopher has already seen it when it was just Tommy’s. He hasn’t seen it when it was theirs, though.

Christopher, being a teenager, doesn’t completely appreciate the significance of this, but he does say it’s really “cool” that they’re living together and that he likes the new couch. Buck gives Tommy a smug look over Christopher’ head, and his boyfriend makes a face at him. As far as he’s concerned, it’s the final nail in the “Buck was right in the furniture store” argument.

“You said you brought your Switch, right?” Buck asks, and Christopher nods. “Well, Tommy can hook that up while I grab us some snacks.”

“I can do it,” Christopher offers, taking a few cables from his bag.

“Nah, I got it,” Tommy says, taking everything as Christopher gets it out. “Hon, can you grab me some ice tea?”

Buck smiles and watches fondly as Christopher piles cables and plastic into Tommy's arms. “Yeah. What about you, kid?”

“Just water,” Christopher says, shrugging and smiling. “Thanks.”

He ruffles Christopher’ hair and goes into the kitchen. He’s probably going a little overboard on the tray of snacks he brings out, but he wants Christopher to be happy. He’s missed the kid like a limb, and he plops next to him on the couch and wishes Christopher wasn’t kind of too cool for cuddling now. He still gave Buck a really long hug when he arrived, but Christopher is a teenager. Teenagers don’t do couch cuddle time, though he does tip his head over onto Buck’s shoulder when Buck curls an arm around his head to kiss his hair.

“Thank you,” Christopher says, immediately going for the potato chips once Buck releases him.

Tommy reaches for his ice tea before sitting on Buck’s other side. “Thanks. Alright, we’re hooked up, kid.”

They play through a cup in Mario Kart, and Christopher beats the shit out of both of them. Buck lingers between third and sixth place the whole time, and Tommy’s only marginally better.

“I feel like this is not made for grown hands,” Tommy says, turning the Joy-Con over in his hands and giving it a dubious look.

“I have other ones, but they’ve got wires,” Christopher offers, diving into his backpack.

Tommy’s eyes light up, and he takes them when Christopher pulls out a tangle of wires with two controllers attached. “Way better. Just a sec.”

He hops up and fiddles with the Switch until he has the controllers plugged in. Christopher keeps using the small wireless controller that’s more comfortable for his hands. Buck and Tommy end up pulling their blanket chest and ottoman closer to the TV so the controller cables can reach.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” Buck says eagerly.

He does a little better, Tommy does a lot better. Suspiciously a lot better.

“We had a GameCube on base,” he explains when Buck shoots him a look of betrayal. Tommy’s older, he’s supposed to be worse with technology. “What else do you have on here, kid?”

Buck knows he shouldn’t trust the nonchalant suggestion of Super Smash Bros, and Christopher doesn’t know any better yet. He doesn’t know that Tommy Kinard is a sneaky liar, but Buck has been learning things. Like his boyfriend pretended he'd never made focaccia before so Buck could show him how, and then he'd produced a professional grade loaf on his first try.

“You were really excited. But I really don't know how to make apple pie, I swear.”

He hadn't, it was a disaster until Buck intervened.

It takes a few minutes of Tommy doing seemingly random things on the sides of the stages while Buck tries in vain to go after Christopher, and then he makes a noise of understanding and absolutely destroys them for the next three matches.

“How?” Christopher demands.

“We did a couple tournaments while we were deployed,” Tommy says with an innocent shrug.

“Uh-huh, and who won those?” Buck asks suspiciously.

“Can’t remember,” Tommy lies, grinning.

“You hustled us,” Christopher says, but he looks delighted instead of pissed. He's doubtlessly adding this to the long list of things that makes Tommy cool, which Buck is proud of these days instead of jealous. “Can you beat the CPU on the highest level?”

“I have no idea,” Tommy says, reaching back to grab a carrot stick. “Let’s see.”

What follows is unreal, according to Christopher. They watch Tommy fight a computer controlled character at each difficulty level, and he manages to get through almost all of them. The last one, though, is apparently almost impossible.

“The reaction time on that thing’s literally not physically possible,” Tommy explains as he makes Fox McCloud do something with a shield that Buck can’t follow. When he gets taken out a moment later by the CPU, he sighs and sits back. “Yeah, nope. There’s no way.”

“Let me look up exploits,” Christopher says, poking at his phone.

“Wait, yeah,” Tommy says, twisting around. “Good call, kid.”

Buck settles back and snacks while Tommy and Christopher try to figure out how to exploit an AI-driven computer character, fail several times, and finally Tommy beats one. He jumps to his feet, fists in the air, and comes around the coffee table to shake Christopher’ shoulders (gently) while they roar in each other’s faces like animals.

He loves them both, but they’re two of the biggest nerds he’s ever met.

“That was so cool!” Christopher shouts as Tommy takes a few victory gulps of his tea.

“It was,” Buck agrees, because it had been incredibly entertaining to watch.

“Aw, babe,” Tommy says, kissing the top of his head. “Thanks for putting up with us.”

“Do you wanna play something else?” Christopher asks, and Buck and Tommy exchange a look. “What?”

“How do you feel about go karts?” Tommy asks, grinning. “Not Nintendo ones.”

Christopher looks between them, his eyes going wide behind his glasses. “Wait, for real?”

They pile into Buck’s Jeep, and Christopher hums happily from the backseat when they pull away from the house.

“I missed this car,” he says, and Buck’s heart warms.

“It probably missed you,” he says, glancing in the rear view mirror at Christopher’ smiling face. “I think pretty much everything in LA missed you, kid.”

Christopher rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but Buck doesn’t miss the smile that’s still on his face. Tommy’s hand covers his and squeezes, and Buck lifts it to his lips to kiss it and presses his cheek to the back of Tommy’s hand.

When he gets them safely to the go karting place, Tommy splits off from them to use the bathroom, and Buck hugs Christopher against his side while they scope out the track.

“I missed you, too,” Christopher says, and Buck bends down to kiss his hair. “Even though you and Tommy are all gross still. Dad said you’d mellow out by now, but I said you’d probably be like this even after you get married.”

Buck lets out a strangled laugh at that. “Married? Who said we’re getting married?”

Christopher looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You guys are totally getting married one day. You’re, like, soulmates.”

He looks around to make sure Tommy isn’t sneaking up on them before leaning in and admitting: “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we are. Which also means that I get to ask you before I ask anyone else to be one of my groomsmen.”

He gets a considering look that makes Christopher look way too much like his father. “Do I get to go to the bachelor party?”

Buck barks out a laugh. “Not a chance, kid.”

Christopher groans. “Can you guys wait until I’m 18, then?”

“Dude, I’m not delaying my wedding so you can go to a bachelor party.” He squeezes Christopher’ shoulder and laughs when the kid sighs loudly and dramatically. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Promise,” Christopher says, raising his pinky. Buck’s breath catches, and he carefully hooks his pinky around Christopher’. “Can I bring a date?”

Buck’s laughing when Tommy comes up on his other side and asks if they’re ready to race.

“I call Christopher,” Tommy says quickly, and Buck lets out a squawk of outrage. “You snooze, you lose, Buckley.”

On the track, he catches sight of Tommy and Christopher more than once and can hear their shouts of joy even over the noise of the engines. He can’t even be mad when they beat him.

“What do I win?” Tommy asks, bouncing once on his toes. He's adorable, Buck wants to squeeze the life out of him.

“I can still hear you,” Christopher reminds them from where he’s texting Eddie. “Before you answer that.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with your dad,” Buck mutters, but he gives Tommy a kiss. “There. But also, there’s no way you’re winning the next one, because Christopher is coming with me.”

He still loses, because Tommy’s Mario Kart skills apparently translate well to real karts.

“Okay, now what do I win?” Tommy asks smugly.

“A high-five,” Christopher says flatly, raising his hand.

Tommy slaps it. “I’ll take it. You guys want to go around the corner? There’s a good wing spot.”

“Hell yeah,” Buck says, looping an arm around his waist.

As they walk outside and around the corner, Buck leans over and kisses his cheek.

“I’ll give you your prize later,” he promises in a low voice so Christopher can’t hear from where he’s a couple paces ahead of them.

“Yeah?” Tommy murmurs back. “Wanna give me a hint?”

“Dude,” Christopher says.

“There’s no way you heard that!” Buck protests.

“I didn't need to.” He stops so they can catch up with him and shakes his head. “You guys are like the kids at school who make out between classes.”

Tommy scoffs. “I think we have a little more self-control than—”

“Don't lie around the kid, Tommy,” Buck says with a sigh, looping an arm around his boyfriend's waist and letting the other one fall across Christopher’ shoulders. “We’re supposed to set a good example.”

Tommy slips away to go a few steps ahead to get the door to the wing place. “Are we? Because I thought we were about to have a wing eating contest.”

“Yeah, good examples of how to dominate at wing eating contests.” Buck presses a quick kiss to his lips as he passes.

They grab a table as Tommy and Christopher negotiate the terms of the contest, and Buck sends a text to Eddie to let him know that they're feeding Christopher along with a photo of the three of them before Christopher heads into the bathroom.

“I think we're about to win as best babysitters,” Tommy decides, stretching his arms over his head. “I can feel it in my bones.”

Buck huffs out a laugh. “Like that was ever a question. We're definitely the best. Right?”

“We gotta be.”

When Christopher gets back from the bathroom, he looks between them like they’re crazy when they ask him.

“Yeah, duh,” he says, and Buck fistbumps his boyfriend. “Aren't you guys too old to care about stuff like that?”

“Yeah, totally,” Tommy lies.

“Yep,” Buck agrees, also lying through his teeth. “Way too old.”

[sunflower1experiment]

Hour of Joy

Risks

The hour of joy, how did you describe it at first, horrendous, terrible, horrifyingly….sick.

Because you failed to gather evidence, and bring it out, why did you give up?

Because of him? Leith, what happened….

“The gentle voices lie!”

Doey’s voice fills your ears, you can hear his parents begging him to remember. Jack, Kevin, Matthew.

Leith sat there while Stella grips her hand from having heard this tape the first time. You remain quiet, after hearing his cries they turn to you. “Do you understand why we must keep this-“

A sharp slap fills the room, Leith stumbles and Stella grabs your arm. “Stop! Please!”

“You killed them! You knew he was suffering! All of this! Is your fault! It’s my fault! His fault.” You grit your teeth angrily, when he shifts his clothes to normal. “Did that help you?”

“Nothing but a greedy bastard who played in Elliot’s face…” Those words stung, Pierre breaths, sucking in his breath afterwords before you left the room. Stella follows behind you, calling out while you merely ignore her.

“Please reconsider, we could fix this.”

“Stella!” You stare at her, standing on the opposite side of playtime. Huggy watches the scene unfold with curiosity, while Stella stood back next to the door. “You and me failed when we first saw the signs.”

“There is nothing to fix, I wanted to help the children…I wanted to make toys through other means. Not….whatever miracle dream you’re deluding yourself to believe. I was an orphan….”

No, you both were but she found her family, this place was family while those children were yours.

She looks down, “….I’m sorry.” She utters out softly. That was probably the most truthful thing you’d hear, she was always energetic, jubilant and curious about death. It worried you at first when you two were kids but now, things have changed. She changed.

You look ahead now, watching everything unfold, knowing Leith or maybe Stella? One of them escaped this tragic situation, however you could only accept that nothing will fix this…

Nothing

You couldn’t feel anything, nothing but the hard floor….and the cushions of your outfit…

Doey found you, your body….it was different. He holds your seams and sewn form, “Pal? Mz? Please wake up.”

He hugs your form close while sobbing, “I can’t do this alone…Please…”

Suddenly the sounds of movement startle him and he places you back down. Leaving through the pipes….

A robotic hand reaches over and gentle caresses your cheek, it was warm…but your body felt like porcelain and somewhat rough.

Your eyes, remain open, unblinking the texture of buttons with a shape of the moon and star, also known as Osram Ne Nsoromma. Even in death you were still so full of love…

[crimsoncold]

Jonsa Fairytale AU (True Love's Kiss) by @crimsoncold

If you must mourn, my love Mourn with the moon and the stars up above If you must mourn Don't do it alone

...

If you must die, sweetheart Die knowing your life was my life's best part If you must die Remember your life

-Keaton Henson, You

For a while l've been considering doing a Fairytale inspired jonsa AU but was never able to make up my mind in terms of which specific fairytale I wanted to base my art piece around (i could of course just do multiple ones but with already so many WIPs i didn't want to plan to add several more into my art rotation) so unable to make a decision I set the idea aside to work on other more concrete art ideas.

Then of course I saw the prompts for the Jonsa Valentine 2025 event, and it really did seem like the world itself was encouraging me to make a fairytale jonsa art piece.

This time I chose to avoid basing it on one specific fairytale and instead considered more general fairytale tropes that are found across many tales when I was brainstorming ideas on what I would make for this prompt.

In the end I decided to use the trope of True Love's Kiss (i.e. A kiss imbued with it's own sort of magic, able to break a curse, or even bring someone back from literal death) both because I thought it would be visually interesting and because I felt it would incorporate several elements of asoiaf/got canon.

(i.e. both the inherent romanticism of Jon and Sansa's personalities and storylines as well as specific events like Jon's tragic "death" and his later resurrection as well as the likely possibility of Sansa being the girl in grey fleeing north to be reunited with her "brother")

As for the related quote, I had been struggling to pick one as most of my possible choices, while admittedly poignant and romantic, felt very specific to either Jon or to Sansa in this art piece rather than being about the two of them together, so I'm actually really pleased with my final choice (lyrics from Keaton Henson's song You) as it feels like it had segments that represent the differing perspectives/wishes of both Jon and Sansa in this scenario.

I was pushing hard to have this finished in time (with the event being about a month a way when I first started this) and even though it ended up taking me a lot more time than I had hoped, I am happy with my decision to make two versions of this artwork as i feel the most satisfying element and impactful part of this fairytale trope is in the profound transformation it can create, and to do this justice I really felt I needed a before and after version of Sansa's Kiss being what brings Jon back from the dead.

Anyway thats about all the background info I'd like to dump on you about this piece so l'll end this on a thank you; specifically thank you to anyone who found, liked, or shared this piece and/or bothered to read my rambling thoughts about making this, as well as a thank you to everyone in this fandom who arranged and/or participated in this event!

Being part of a small but so dedicated fandom is just the sort of thing that makes me happy when everything else around me starts to feel harsh and distressing. I hope you all have a wonderful day and that everyone feels inspired to keep making and sharing all sorts of art and creative pieces for this fandom- it seems a very small thing in the scope of everything happening in the world and our lives but its still something that brings some much needed joy that I think many (especially myself) greatly value while also forgetting or struggling to actually find a way to adequately express our appreciation... so this is just my attempt to say thank you all for making this little slice of fandom so wonderful!

-Crimson Cold

[delswine]

I WANT HIM 𝄒 ⸝. P. JS — drabble

the thing is, even though you experienced a harassment-like situation a few days ago, your boyfriend Jay could not convince his company not to go to the shooting abroad and had to entrust you to the members.

pairing — idol!bf!Jay x upset!brat-ish!f.reader

genre — fluff, fluff and fluff...

notes — i need Park Jongseong in my life tho..

"i said no Jaeyun! i want my boyfriend!" Sunghoon let out an exasperated sigh and threw his head back, you could see the other members had similar reactions.

Jongseong went to America for an individual photoshoot two days ago and the members haven't been able to make you happy for these two days. the reason they were trying to make you happy was because of a bad event you had recently experienced, which was why Jongseong didn’t want to go but because his company insisted, he entrusted you to the members. the members who did everything they could to cheer you up couldn't handle Jongseong's absence anymore.

right now, you were whining with a completely downcast expression because Jongseong hadn’t answered your calls in hours. even though the members tried to persuade you to eat with them by saying that you wouldn’t be able to look at them during the shoot, you were stubborn in not getting up and waiting for Jongseong's's call.

you checked your phone once more for a call but saw nothing. your eyes fluttered, you pressed your head onto your knees to keep from crying. the last thing you heard was one of the members leaving the hall to answer the door knocking because your perceptions were off, you were trying hard not to cry.

you were about to speak to the members to get angry with the hand that touched your shoulder, when you smelled the perfume of your lover, whom you were quite familiar with.

when you quickly lifted your head, you had nothing left to hold back your tears and began to sob. you quickly wrapped your arms around your lover's neck and cuddled into his arms.

you quickly began to whine as Jongseong calmed you down by caressing your hair and waist with calm whispers. "you didn't answer my calls! i missed you so much and i was so scared!"

Jongseong smiled as he lifted your head off his shoulder and gently caressed your cheek. "i'm sorry sweetheart, i wanted to surprise you and you know i can't use my phone on a plane." you continued to snuggle up to your lover by whining without speaking because you knew he was right. "i heard you gave the members a hard time, were you that angry baby?"

Heeseung spoke without giving you a chance. "she was so moody, she kept crying about you. please take her." you lifted your head from your lover's shoulder and stuck your tongue out at him. Jongseong pressed your head back onto his shoulder and said something to the members as he walked towards his room with you in his arms.

when you two entered the room, he put the small suitcase in his hand down and sat you down on the bed. he knelt down in front of you, took your hands and smiled. "are you feeling better?" you nodded, feeling a little guilty. even though you had a bad time, you had tired people out too much. "i know you're having a hard time, and i'm sorry i had to leave you feeling that way. and don't feel guilty, all the members know why you act like that. no one is mad at you, okay?"

you hugged your lover's neck once more and snuggled up to him. Jongseong was like a breath of fresh air to you, he was always there for you during the 4 years you were with him.

Jongseong let you hug him a little longer before he lifted your head up by your chin and brought his lips to yours. as your heart beat faster with excitement, you immediately started kissing your lover's lips.

while the small purrs your lover made excited you, you realized that the kiss was deepening when Jongseong straightened up and put his hand on your neck.

the few hours you spent lying in your lover’s bed after kissing him until you were breathless was enough to bring you joy back.

—

this is clearly me btw - Cel

[cod-thoughts]

You call my bluff, how can I keep this up?

Word count: 1.2k

Relationships: implied GhostPrice

Tags: Very silly, inspired by art, Ghost is very down bad, they arent together yet

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: This is a gift for the lovely @gomzdrawfr we barely know each other but i absolutely love your art it always brings me a lot of joy. This particular drawing hasnt left my mind since you've uploaded it and ive been dying to write for it so now i have. Happy valentines day! <33 Hopefully this doesnt freak you out my bad if it does 0_0

Simon Riley prided himself on discipline. A soldier’s mind was supposed to be sharp, focused, unwavering—trained to cut through distractions like a blade through fog.

Unfortunately, Ghost’s mind was none of those things at the moment.

Because right now, all he could think about was lifting his Captain.

It had started as a passing thought, one of those ridiculous notions that flit in and out of consciousness before being dismissed outright. But the problem—the real, pressing issue—was that he didn’t dismiss it. He let it linger. He let it take root.

And now? Now it was a full-blown fantasy.

Price wasn’t even doing anything particularly remarkable. He was just there, standing at the other end of the room, sleeves rolled up, a cigar hanging lazily between his fingers as he pored over mission reports. The bastard didn’t even realise what he was doing, didn’t realise how profoundly, cosmically annoying it was that he looked so unbothered. So effortlessly composed. So fucking liftable.

Ghost flexed his fingers absently. He was pretty sure he could do it. No, scratch that—he knew he could do it. He’d been working out more lately, upping his deadlifts and bench press, and Price wasn’t that much heavier than the weights he’d been throwing around. Maybe a bit more solid in the middle, sure, but Ghost wasn’t about to let that stop him.

His mind supplied a vivid image of how it might go: him stepping up behind Price, arms looping around his waist before hoisting him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing. He imagined the startled grunt Price would make, the way his cigar might tumble from his lips in sheer disbelief. Ghost would hold him there, suspended mid-air, feeling triumphant and smug as Price swore up a storm. Maybe even toss him over a shoulder for good measure.

A slow, creeping warmth spread through Ghost’s chest. Fuck, I really wanna do it.

And then the thought—the dangerous, irrational thought—took an even more deranged turn.

What if he just… buried his face in Price’s back? Just thunked his head against him like some oversized cat marking its territory? What if he just took a big inhale too? What if he just filled his lungs up with Price's intoxicating scent?

Ghost had seen videos of big cats rubbing against their handlers, knocking them around with sheer weight alone, and now the mental image of himself doing that to Price was seared into his mind. 

Would Price let him? Probably not. But maybe. If Ghost timed it right. If he made it quick enough, took advantage of Price’s soft spot for him.

Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me?

He scrubbed a hand down his mask, barely resisting the urge to groan. He was losing his goddamn mind, and the worst part was, he wasn’t even ashamed of it. If anything, he was tempted.

Because it wasn’t just some unhinged urge—it was Price.

It was the way Price carried himself, all rough edges and commanding presence, but with the kind of warmth underneath that Ghost couldn’t look away from. It was the way he laughed, the rare deep rumble of it that made Ghost’s chest go tight. It was the way Price had a habit of standing too close, completely unaware of how much space he actually occupied in Ghost’s head.

It was the way Price had his little habits—how he’d run a hand down his beard when he was thinking, or the way he bounced when he was feeling restless, fingers gripping his vest. The way his accent thickened when he was particularly exasperated, or how his blue eyes sharpened when he was assessing a situation. Ghost could list a dozen things about the man that made his brain short-circuit, and not a single one of them had anything to do with the fact that Price was his superior officer.

He wasn’t just some bloke Ghost wanted to wrestle to the ground for fun. No, it was something worse, something worsebecause it came with an emotion Ghost didn’t quite have a name for but felt deep in his ribs whenever Price clapped a hand on his shoulder or called him ‘Simon.’

Ghost sighed and slouched further into his seat, arms crossed. Maybe if he just stopped looking at him—

“Yer makin’ that face again.”

Ghost stiffened, head snapping up. Price was looking at him now, one brow raised in amusement.

Shit.

“…What face?” Ghost asked, voice carefully neutral.

“The one where you’re plottin’ somethin’ daft.”

Ghost blinked. He was absolutely not making that face. He was making his normal, everyday blank expression. The same one that had struck fear into the hearts of enemy combatants for years. There was no fucking way Price could tell that, just moments ago, Ghost had been contemplating rubbing his head against him like an over-affectionate housecat. 

How he could even read Ghost's expression through the mask had always been a mystery. Price knew him too well, it should scare him but it doesn't, it never has. 

“I’m not plottin’ anything,” Ghost lied.

Price hummed, unconvinced. “Uh-huh.” He turned back to his reports but didn’t drop the smirk. “Whatever you say, Simon.”

Ghost exhaled slowly. Disaster avoided.

And yet—and yet—

The urge still hadn’t left.

No, if anything, it had gotten worse. Because now, in the absence of fantasy, his brain had moved into problem-solving mode. Could he get away with it? Could he pull it off? If he were fast enough, if he caught Price off guard, maybe—

Ghost bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he needed to accept that this was just who he was now. A man consumed by the overwhelming, irrational desire to manhandle his Captain and fucking nuzzle him. A lost cause.

A complete and total, lost cause that was actively fighting for its life as Price casually stretched, arms rolling back, giving Ghost a perfect view of his broad shoulders and back flexing under the fabric of his shirt.

Ghost’s jaw clenched. His hand curled into a fist.

Get. A. Fucking. Grip.

“Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t involve me having to clean up any of your messes.” Price’s voice snapped him back to the present.

Ghost barely processed the words. All he could focus on was the fact that, when Price shifted in his seat, his damn jacket rode up just slightly, exposing a sliver of his back, displaying all the little moles and freckles and those two distinct dimples in his lower back that look perfect for his fingers to dig into and oh, for fuck's sake.  

Ghost clenched his fists. 

He was going to lose it.

He was actually going to lose it.

He had to get out of here before he did something insane. Like follow through on these godforsaken thoughts.

“Right,” Ghost muttered, pushing himself up from his chair a little too quickly, a little too stiffly. “Gotta… check on something.”

Price barely glanced up. “Mmhm.”

Ghost turned on his heel, marching toward the exit. He needed fresh air. He needed to not be in this room thinking about how catastrophically down bad he was.

As he reached the doorway, he heard Price’s voice again, this time tinged with unmistakable amusement.

“Oi, Ghost.”

Ghost paused but didn’t turn around.

“…If you’re thinkin’ about doin’ whatever it is you’re thinkin’ about doin’—” Price’s smirk was practically audible. “—I’d think about it first.”

Ghost didn’t respond. Just gritted his teeth and forced himself to step outside before he did something really stupid. He couldn’t move until the door shut behind him. He inhaled deeply, exhaled through his nose, and flexed his fingers at his sides.

Maybe, maybe he could let this ridiculous urge go. Maybe he could shove it back into the depths of his mind and act like a normal person.

…Or maybe, just maybe, he was gonna pick the perfect moment to put his theory to the test.

Because one day—one day—he was gonna lift that man.

And no force on earth was going to stop him.

[blackboxtheater]

voted for them again!

prompt this time is: cozy!

something simple, thanks!

I do believe the people have spoken, but on the off chance that you follow my blog and haven't voted for Mumpearl in the the Mumbo Jumbo ship bracket, you still can! We can show our presence as a small but mighty rarepair and go down with the ship as we sink beneath the waves lapping at Boatem's shores.

I will still take prompts until voting closes so if you wanted to submit, this might be your last chance 👀

But time for prompts!! Cozy prompts!!

So this could be read as a stand-alone season 10 established relationship tidbit, OR as the season 10 epilogue to House of String that I'm never going to write because I literally already have 21 chapters of content and that's just through season 9. If you've been suffering from all the pining in the recent updates, this is a bit of an antidote to that :)

But either way, the interior of Pearl's base, and in particular her double bed next to a wall of trap doors has HAUNTED me (/pos) since she ran around her base in hide and seek with Gem. Something about the vibe just gave me "sunlight streaming through shutters at sunrise" and now you gave me an excuse to write that!!!

Plus Pearl clearly designed a bedroom and actual living space in her base, while Mumbo just makes a giant storage system as a base and sometimes puts a bed places. So the idea that he still is making his base, but actually sleeps and lives at Pearl's is the premise for this setup.

🌙 🌙 🌙

The sound of the last shulker whirling shut echoes through Pearl's storage room.

There is truly nothing as satisfying as a neatly organized storage room with a set of perfectly prepared shulkers right in the middle, ready to be picked up on the way to a brand new build the next morning. Sure, Pearl likes the update this season where they can add text and images to the boxes. It's helpful and does make it easier to know at a glance what is in each box, but there is something so familiar and soothing about a classic, color-coded row of shulkers prepped for an exciting new build.

Now that she's stopped banging around her storage room opening and closing chests, there's a silence that settles over the space. It's a rare sound on Hermitcraft which is why she loves the peace and quiet that only comes in the dead of night.

She loves the chaos and mischief and joy that the other hermits bring to her life. She does. She loves them all more than she could ever describe. But she also has big plans for her builds each season that require lots of time and effort to not only design, but to construct and refine until they are exactly as perfect as she knows they can be. And it's hard to be productive when her communicator is constantly blowing up with Scar's death messages. Or when a wild Gem can appear out of the sky at any moment. Or when Keralis has some new ideas for the flower and dyes shop or when Ren is looking for an extra person to play Hungry Hermits with or when Grian breaks the mail system again or or or or or.

There is always a distraction looking for her during the daylight hours. It's so easy to have a full, busy, wonderful day where she makes zero progress on any of her projects. Which is why she keeps staying up so late season after season.

Sure she could try to fix her sleep schedule this year now that Mumbo is staying with her full time. He's always yawning by 9:30 and crawling into bed by 10. But she likes being able to get some focus time in when the rest of the hermits are fast asleep. Or at the very least deterred from dropping in unannounced by the ever present threat of mobs lurking in every shadow.

And Mumbo doesn't seem to mind that she drifts down to her study as he drifts up to bed.

Pearl does mind though that her dogs seem to have universally decided that sleeping in a comfy, warm bed is better than keeping her company late into the night. Sure the cats are still awake with her, watching her with their reflective eyes as Pearl makes her way up from the storage room to her and Mumbo's bedroom.  But it's not quite the same as previous seasons when she'd regularly been making design updates late at night with a dog curled up at her feet.

But when she open the door to their bedroom, she does get numerous sets of dark eyes turning to look up at her illuminated in the dull glow streaming in through the crack in the door. Mumbo, as always, is completely passed out, rolled on his side and sleeping right through the sound of her quietly slipping into their bedroom. Her valiant guard dogs, however, silently watch Pearl's nightly routine of she softly padding over to the closet to get changed and ready for bed. And, just like every night, once she is finally ready to climb into bed there is a series of soft thump as her babies jump down to clear her side of the bed and give her room to crawl under the covers.

There's one final round of shuffling and adjusting before the whole Pearl/Mumbo compound is settled for the night. There's the soft click of dog paws against the floor as her puppos find their places curled in corners and at the foot of the bed, the rustle of bedsheets as Pearl tucks herself in behind Mumbo, and finally the quite breath Mumbo lets out each night as Pearl curls around him.

When Pearl mentioned this little routine to him, Mumbo swore up and down that he slept right through her shuffling around and he had no idea when she finally ended up coming to bed each night.

While she initially assumed he was just being cute and polite for her sake, the longer they lived together, the more Pearl was inclined to believe him. He really didn't give any indication of being awake each night as she has moved around their bedroom opening drawers and shutting doors as she got ready for bed. But there is a soft noise that he make every night without fail as Pearl curls up again his back, tucking her face between his shoulder blades and into the soft fabric of his well-worn sleep shirt. Pearl almost likes the idea that he isn’t awake and aware that this happens better. It means that even asleep, there is some part of him that's waiting for her to come into bed. A part that doesn’t fully relax until he feels her warmth beside him. And once she's there, he can finally relax, letting out a soft sigh, barely audible over the rustle of leaves outside. She even thinks sometimes that she can feel the last bit of nervous tension easing out of his shoulders as she nuzzles into him, inhaling the smell of soap and fresh cotton.

It's become a familiar enough scent that even after to most chaotic days it helps calm Pearl's thoughts, helping her drift off to sleep under the warm covers to the sounds of Mumbo's even breathing beside her.

🔆 🔆 🔆

Now that Mumbo has had the pleasure of waking up with the sunrise, he's not sure he could ever go back.

There is no jarring alarm or unexpected buzzing from a communicator to jolt him awake. No sharp, sudden distinction between peaceful sleep and full consciousness. Instead, the sunlight filters through the copper trap doors that make up the walls of his and Pearl's bedroom each morning, slowly bringing him to awareness as the day begins.

The soft sound of the birds outside and the warm light against his eyelids is the first thing he's aware of most mornings now. Which wakes him up just enough so he can shifts around and reach out for the warm body even his subconscious knows is sleeping beside him. But the first tendrils of consciousness aren't satisfied with just knowing Pearl is there in the bed next to him, they want her closer and go seeking her out, gathering her sluggishly into his arms and pulling her into him.

That's one of the few things that can still jolt Mumbo awake now; reaching out and his hazy, half asleep brain not finding Pearl within reach. The first time he reached out to find nothing but a cold pillow and the furry back of an equally confused dog blinking back at him, he had startled awake, fumbling for his communicator with the terrible feeling that something bad had to have happened. If Pearl wasn't in bed, Pearl must be missing and in danger, his barely awake brain had concluded. His worried messages, which his brain had not been conscious enough to remember to whisper rather than put in the general Hermitcraft chat, had been greeted by a sheepish Pearl admitting she may have been so focused on her project that she hadn't notice the birds had started singing to tell her she had worked all the way through to sunrise. The messages had also been fantastic fodder for all of his friends to tease him for the rest of the week, even if most of it was good natured teasing about how cute him and Pearl were together.

But this morning isn't one of those unfortunate rare days he wakes up alone, so when Mumbo rolls over his arm curls around Pearl to pull her into his chest. Sometimes he catches a half mumbled 'good morning' or even a sleepy kiss if she rolls into his chest, but this morning she just wraps her arms around his and snuggles back against him with just the barest bit of fleeting consciousness that he knows will be gone again by the time he's fully awake.

But he's in no rush. These warm, cozy moments curled up together each morning are some of his favorite each day and he's not eager to end them too soon. So he spends a few more minutes letting his consciousness slowly come on line, becoming more aware of the world around him as his brain cells wake up one by one.

First, he starts to hear the leaves rustling outside and can feel their movement shift the pattern of sunlight against his eyes lids. He starts to notice the smell Pearl's shampoo and can feel her leg brush against his as she shifts again in his arms. And finally, he hears the click of nails on the floor as their dogs start to grow impatient in their wait for breakfast.

Which is his cue that his precious morning moments are drawing to a close and it's almost time to get up for the day.

By the time he finally opens his eyes, there is already 3 pairs of black dog eyes staring at him over the edge of the bed. The dogs are smart enough to know that Mumbo looking at them means breakfast is soon, and they can stop giving him pleading looks in bed and can go sit quietly by the bedroom door. But they are also smart enough to know that it will be another few minutes before he gets up, taking a few more moments to appreciate the warm, quite mornings now that he's actually awake enough to take everything in.

But Mumbo knows the dogs won’t wait forever, and there's a long list of things he wants to get started on before the rest of the server wakes up and starts causing chaos. So Mumbo presses a kiss to Pearl's temple and slowly detangles himself from her and the warm covers. There's a little grumble she always lets out as he does, but he attributes that more to the sudden chill as he slips out from under the covers rather than her being conscious of him leaving. He knows that by the time he comes back upstairs to change out of his pajamas, she'll be sound asleep, sprawled cross the bed and taking up more space than a single human should be capable of.

But right now, the most pressing concern is the flock of dogs patiently waiting at the bedroom door for him to get breakfast started, and the growing feeling that hot cup of tea sounds like a great idea right about now.

[bericas]

isaac & scott / mason & theo | sometimes all i think about is you

[boozles]

Seeing a lot of Bad Buddy on my dash tonight.

I see you all. I see you.

[gilraina]

Tags by @askshivanulegacy

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[purplesaline]

Easiest

Puppy

Ever

When he's bored he goes to fins something to chew on, then brings it back to where I am and sits or lays against me to chew it. Once he's bored of that he'll go look for something different to chew and brings it back, and on and on.

And the boy has a bladder the size of Texas! He went nearly 12 hours without peeing and only went then because I woke him up and dragged him outside. Unfortunately I didn't wait long enough and a little while after we were back inside he went over to his crate and pooped on the towels in there (which made for very easy cleanup), then went for another 8 hours without asking to pee and I took him out again.

Now I know why his sister struggles with excitement peeing. Parker took some of her share of bladder!

[chradi]

Being able to connect with people on a certain specific level and then losing touch/falling out with those people and then feeling like you’re wandering some shitty desert searching for that specific connection while still knowing people aren’t replaceable like that and its a fruitless search 👍

[camellia-thea]

initially this post had some commentary about interests right now. and then it turned into a ramble about personal healing in the tags. so the interest post is going separately.

[famewolf]

going to be spending the day with my mom for the first time in a long while. she wants to get me new shoes and is bringing over a whole box of stuff from Costco that she got me and my husband.

even though I'm on the cusp of 30, she still likes to be a mom, and I'm forever grateful for it. might not have any of the rest of my family after I was disowned but I've got my mom and my little brother and that's all I could ever ask for

[fragmentedblade]

Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans

[noirapocalypto]

I don't think I've never going to feel comfortable talking about my OC's in depth or sharing my lore.