• any kind of artwork is accepted!! Make sure to either tag this blog or post under the fuga4week tag!!
• the event will start on 1/12 and "end" on 7/12 (day/mont), but after day 7 you can still post the prompts!
• there is only one person behind this so please be patient!
• there is no need of posting the prompts on their exatcly day, just have fun! o/
• If you have any questions you can ask on inbox!
(rules bellow!!)
• sexual content are not going to be acepted
• having wilbur or forever on any piece are not going to be acepted (minus if the piece is something with the cubitos and their f or w cúbitos happened to be there, like a screenshot or gif)
• AI "artwork" are not going to be acepted
• if you piece has others fanarts on It, make sure to tag the original artists!
• traced/stolen pieces are also not going to be acepted
• again, If you have any question, ask on inbox o/
another little thing for @fuga4week for the prompt cuddling \o/!!
reblogs appreciated!!
Most days for Felps are sleep days. The others are usually reserved for working on the square, but he likes to leave some time in his non-existent schedule for whatever chaos the other islanders might subject him to.
This isn’t chaos. But it’s not mining, and it’s not sleeping either. For all intents and purposes he is awake. But instead of picking himself up from whatever crevice he managed to collapse into for some minor shelter he’s… in a bed. Surrounded by people he knows very well.
It’s only a tangle of limbs that stops him from getting up. But it is a very convincing obstacle. Besides, between them and the blankets he’s actually managing to feel warm.
The room is dark—it’s hard to place exactly where he is because of that, but he’s probably been dragged back to their original house in the Favela. And it must be fairly late at night if Cellbit and Richas are sleeping.
Because, yes, they are both here. Richarlyson has bullied his way under Felps’ arms to curl up against his chest, and Cellbit surely has to be the one plastered against his back. He’s got an arm thrown over Felps’ waist, but the other arm reaching up to hold something (a knife, Felps would guess) under the pillow is a dead giveaway.
And now that Felps’ eyes have adjusted a little to the darkness he can recognise Pac as the person bracketing Richas—his leg and arms tangled with Felps’. And if Felps really tries he thinks he can see tufts of pink hair signalling Mike behind Pac. But honestly, it wouldn’t really make sense for Pac to be here without Mike.
Unless something happened to Mike. Which… on this island?
Felps lifts his head a little and, yes, okay—Mike is safely there.
He can’t say he knows what prompted this. But it is nice. They haven’t done this kind of thing in a while. Already differing schedules on top of Felps’ unpredictable sleep cycle—not even mentioning that no one really lives in the Favela anymore… it makes it hard to organise.
He hopes he’ll still be awake when morning hits. It’d be nice to catch up properly—make a whole morning of it. Maybe he’ll even make them breakfast in bed.
But it’s not even a little light out, so that’s probably still a good few hours away. For now, he surrenders to the cuddle pile and lets himself doze.
———
i imagine it started because someone came across Felps sleeping just out in the open in the square and it prompted a conversation between all of them while they got him into a proper bed
(he will probably be bullied into promising that he’ll try and make it to a bed next time, but he will make that promise while being pretty sure he won’t be able to fulfil it oops)
thanks for everyone that participated and supported here!!! Im terrible to write this type of stuff but i just want to say that i loved doing this <33 and im happy by everyone that participated and/or supported here!!! <33
i know its "over" but you guys can always post later your pieces!! And as usual, tag either this blog or use #fuga4week in your tags!! <333
this is technically for the prompt “rescue mission” but I have skipped the previous day and this is longer than my other fics so I will say it’s also for the “favela and richas” prompt
reblogs appreciated \o/!
It’s not that Felps didn’t think anyone would rescue him. He didn’t even know he needed rescuing—not until Cellbit was there telling him he did. And that Cellbit was the one attempting to do so, despite also being stuck.
He at least was in a better position to break out than Felps was. What with being on the other side of a locked door in a room very different to Felps’.
Cellbit’s room had things. Felps’ room didn’t. Between that, and the giant window separating them, and the item slot—most likely for food—that only went one way, and his hospital gown versus Cellbit’s proper clothes…
It’s not painting a pretty picture.
Cellbit claims he can’t remember anything before waking up today with Felps, but…
Well. Right now, Cellbit has helped Felps get free from that little cell. They’re in another locked room, though. At least this one has chairs.
This time, he has long enough to consider that maybe no one will find them. Or maybe no one will care to find them. He would hope Pac and Mike would… but they have Richarlyson to consider.
None of this matters if Richarlyson ends up having to survive by himself because all of his parents got locked away by the Federation while trying to fix Felps’… mistake.
He shouldn’t have—he shouldn’t have trusted that Cucurucho wouldn’t hurt him. He just thought… well, it’s not like he was breaking the rules—not like Cellbit was—he was just… bargaining. And maybe telling some little lies, but mostly bargaining.
And it would’ve been worth it, if it changed anything. He’d do it all again—walk willingly into Cucurucho’s waiting claws, even without Cellbit’s rescue attempt—if it meant Richas would get another life.
But he didn’t. If Cellbit is to be believed.
He sighs. Cellbit grabs his wrist.
“They’ll be here soon.” Cellbit tells him—intense, reassuring.
Felps nods, and he tries to believe Cellbit about this, at least.
And it turns out he is right. Not too long after, the room explodes into action. Many people are here it looks like—although it’s hard to count properly with all the chaos.
Foolish—who comes up to the glass—is definitely here. And Felps is pretty sure he sees Bad running around as well. But the two people who capture his attention the most are Pac and Mike.
They arrive on the other side of the glass; dishevelled from the fight, but seemingly happy to be here. The warmth in his chest at seeing them actually manages to thaw away some of the lingering cold that’s been clinging onto him.
“Hi Cellbit, hi Felps!” Pac calls, waving at them.
“Hi Pac!” Felps waves back. “Hi Mike!”
“Felps! We’re going to get you out of here, okay, man?” Mike promises.
The actual escape is a blur. Chaos, and adrenaline, and still being hazy from… whatever happened to him makes everything feel difficult to grasp onto.
He gets a brief moment of peace when warping to the Favela. Then Pac is warping in and insisting on showing him something, and Mike follows not too long after to check him for injuries. The something is a completed Christ the Redeemer clapping for his return, and the injuries appear to be nothing more than just what’s on his arm.
It’s sweet—they’re sweet.
The others file in maybe a little quicker than Felps would prefer right now. He doesn’t let it bother him, though. It’s loud and chaotic again, but… it’s home. He’s home. No sterile white walls of the Federation, or weird hell-like dungeons. Just the Favela. With his family, and his friends—loud as they all may be.
Which also means…
He spots Richarlyson talking to Cellbit and hurries over, dragging Mike with him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pac picking his way down the mountain to meet them, too.
“Richarlyson!” Felps calls, dropping Mike’s hand to open his arms for a hug.
Richas doesn't seem to register him at first. And then Felps watches as disbelief settles on his face, which quickly morphs into hope, which quickly disappears into Felps’ shirt as Richas dives into the hug.
Felps holds him tightly. He’s okay, he’s okay, and he might not have a second life, but he’s still okay. He’s still alive.
Felps is definitely crying. He fumbles around for the closest person to him—Cellbit, who was talking with Richas beforehand—and pulls him into the hug as well. Then he looks through tear-blurred eyes for the rest of his family.
Pac and Mike are lingering nearby—watching, but apparently not wanting to intrude.
“Pac, Mike—come here?”
Felps wants to beckon them, but he doesn’t have enough arms for that. If the Federation was going to lock him up for a month couldn’t they have done something cool to him? Like extra arms? Instead he’s just cold.
But with the prompting, Pac and Mike fall easily into the group hug as well. It’s tight hugs all around. Felps feels sandwiched between everyone—reminiscent of their first couple of nights here when they slept in the same bed. He didn’t realise how much he missed it until confronted with the possibility that it might never happen again.
“Thank you guys.” Felps murmurs.
“Of course, Felps.” Pac responds, and Felps feels a kiss pressed to his forehead.
Then Richarlyson wiggles to get out of his grasp and the hug mostly dissolves. Cellbit has a hold of one of his wrists, and Pac still has an arm around his waist. And they’re all still huddled together—huddled around Felps who’s kneeling in front of Richas as he scribbles frantically on signs.
Felps wipes at his eyes, and answers whatever questions he can, and basks in the warmth of his family close to him.
———
longer than the others, but still a quick little thing compared to how much actually happened in that stream pfft
I love the federation escape stream (Felps’ vod 12) a lot, so this was fun \o/!!
have just written another little thing, but reblogs are appreciated!
Felps meets Cell again first. It’s not a particularly glamorous first meeting.
Cell was sure he was dead. And he spends most of their first day together convinced that Felps is a ghost who’s come back to haunt him. Despite that, he doesn’t particularly do any self-reflection and Felps doesn’t receive an apology.
It’s comforting, at least, that some things stay the same. Cell is a predictable chaos. Felps may have misstepped earlier, but he knows Cell well enough to not do it again.
He hopes.
——
The second person Felps meets again is Pac. This one was entirely random—a bit of luck in Felps’ generally luckless life. (He’s made for miracles, not good things.)
Pac is surprisingly delighted to see him again. It makes his chest—and his cheeks—feel warm. Felps registers the shock second. Pac pokes him—much like Cell had done—and asks how he survived.
All Felps can say is that he wants to know as much as Pac does. That he would tell him if he could.
Regardless, they drop what they’re doing to go out for lunch together and catch up. It’s nice. It’s the nicest day he’s had in a while. He doesn’t mention Cell.
They trade phone numbers, and he’s smiling long enough afterwards that when he gets home Cell asks about it.
——
Felps meets Mike again before he considers reintroducing Cellbit to the duo. Mike has known about his and Pac’s… catch ups. But they’ve never particularly organised anything themselves. They were mostly close by proxy. They stay that way now.
Despite Felps swearing up and down that he has no connection to the police anymore, Pac wouldn’t trust him with the location of where he was staying. It stung, but Felps was used to it. Besides, it’s not like he could take Pac to his place—what, with Cellbit living there and all that.
When Pac finally invites him over, Mike is there, too. At one point, Pac leaves them both alone.
In the span of a few minutes Felps has his death and subsequent survival questioned, is invited to participate in some potentially illegal experiments, and is threatened with pain of death if he hurts Pac.
It’s a surprisingly fun evening. Mike helps him dye his hair.
——
The meeting between Cellbit, Pac and Mike goes about how Felps expected it to go. But no one gets seriously injured so he considers it a win.
————————
my notes: i’ve always imagined that if they met up again before qsmp then Felps would be the connection just by nature of being like… a neutral party. so here’s a quick little fic about that concept \o/!!
I’m a bit late, but here’s a little thing for @fuga4week for the prompt “fuga” \o/!!
this is a diary excerpt of Felps’!! i didn’t want to do anything heavy with the prompt, but I wasn’t sure how to technically reference all four of them. then this idea came to mind so I figured why not experiment? I don’t usually like writing in first person pov, but it was interesting! tried to mimic how he types in chat a little
Dear Diary,
I’ve never been able to keep up with these things even though people have suggested I should try. What do I even write? My life isn’t that interesting. The days all blend together anyway and sometimes I’m afraid I’m sleeping through some of them (Although maybe that’s why I should keep one????)
When I first started working here they gave me a diary and said something about it being for my mental health. It was part of the welcome kit—seems like a mandatory thing to give out. Maybe some law somewhere—doing the bare minimum to make sure they hit requirements. I don’t know, I just work here, you know?
They told me it was a journal actually but what’s the difference??? It’s a book. You write your thoughts and day in it. Huh?
Honestly I forgot about it until now. My days all blend together here too. Cell is always an excitement but he’s here often enough and nothing he does is particularly out of the ordinary—for him. He’s a predictable chaos. As long as I do what he says: I’m fine. Easy, right? (Ha.)
Is this how you write in a diary???? I’ve never had one and it’s not like people just let you read their diaries. I considered keeping a dream journal once………
Okay. I’m off track. I forgot about this little thing but something notable happened today and I realised—oh right! I can finally write something interesting down!
Two new prisoners showed up today. Right around the time of another classic JV escape attempt—how exciting for them! Their names are Pac and Mike.
Usually I don’t take notice of new faces much but Cell tipped me off that they smuggled something to escape with into their cell so I had to go look. (Right at the end of my shift too—son of a bitch) (….I sure hope he never reads this!!!!)
I’ve been tasked by Cell to keep an eye on them. Which I’m not excited about??? But they don’t seem violent at least. They were just a little annoyed with my searching but they didn’t try to attack me… so that’s good????
Maybe it won’t be so bad and I’m just annoyed cell threatened me about it.
Let’s see what else… Pac is pretty.
Well that’s it. I guess it wasn’t as exciting as I thought now that I’ve written it down. Maybe I’ll write for tomorrow?? But probably I’ll be too tired and forget again. I’m always tired here. I suppose we just have to hope for something interesting to come from Pac and Mike so I have a reason to remember!!
Although… it was nice I guess to “talk” without worrying about what people would think or say or do to me.
Until next time :D
-Felps
——
little notes is that I wasn’t worried about punctuation much here pfft. and also that Felps realising he doesn’t actually have anything interesting to say about pac and mike being after a striken out “pac is pretty” is very intentional \o/