#I have not drawn Julie properly!

[catliker49]

Whoopsies!

AAAAHH!!! I think I have found the style I love so so much! I used to draw quite similar to this within my first few months of getting into Welcome Home, but I think I have improved a lot!! THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY! I will redraw an old Picture I made of Wally when I had just gotten into Welcome Home! (I will show the before and after.. but you mustn't bully me...) I will Do this when it is the one year Anniversary of me getting into Welcome Home!! (April 4th! Haha!)

I really Hope you Love this!!

And now.. I will sleep... Play Splatoon... and do my final piece..!

#I am so so Pleased with this! #I have not drawn Julie properly! #I did.. once! #But that was on Procreate and it was not my best.. #I will draw the other neighbours! #I love Wally with all of my heart #But the other neighbours deserve attention too! #I will have my Plushie next to me and he can help me come up with ideas! #Yay! #Take care all of you! #(Also side note; I am so tempted to change my username.. People on roblox misreading my name frequently is driving me insane!!!) #(So if I do change my username I will tell you all beforehand! #Don't forget me please!!) #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #julie joyful welcome home #julie welcome home #julie joyful #julie joyful fanart

[mouse-fantoms]

Thinkin about the boys being like “it’s Halloween, we’re ghosts we have to be spooky!” And Julie is like “…pff good luck 😂” bc I mean just look at them,

Luke’s like “😠 no we’re ghosts we can be scary”

Reggie’s like “yeah we can be spooky!”

And Julie points out, “…none of you wanted to take care of the spider that was in the garage the other day bc it would come back as a spider ghost and haunt three.”

“In their defense, we haven’t seen a ghost spider before and didn’t want to test the theory.” Alex defends.

Bc Julie can always see them, it takes the spookiness out of everything. They can’t make anything look like it’s floating to her bc she can see that they are holding it, they can’t float or anything bc they haven’t figured out that part of being ghosts. After feeling like they’re out of spooking options they decide to resort to the classic ghost stereotype in media of using a white bed sheet.

They just wait in the garage for someone to come by and spook em but turns out it’s Julie and she once again cannot be spooked and this time she says their downfall was choosing the garage bc since she already links the garage with them she already knows there’s ghosts there so it doesn’t catch we off guard to see “ghosts” in there.

They decide to throw in the towel, they cannot spook Julie at all bc she has a good point and good reasons for not being able to be spooked.

When she leaves the garage she left the door partially open and the boys are like “huh she didn’t close the door kind of weird? Luke you go close it.” As he has his hand on the door to close it all of the sudden in the crack of the door in his vision he see a white figure with a black face who does a “BOO!” cry. Luke stumbles back and falls to the ground out of fear as shouts “AHHHH!” which match Alex and Reggie’s cries who were near the door and who saw the sudden figure appear just as Luke had. They suddenly hear laughing from behind the door.

“Good job Carlos.” They hear Julie’s voice and the white figure, who they now realize is short and has a black sharpie drawn on face opens the door to reveal her. “That was perfect.”

As Alex and Reggie help Luke up from the floor and they’re trying to process what happened they see that the white figure takes off their white sheet to reveal that they are in fact Carlos. They see Julie holding out a high five that Carlos returns with a smile on his face, proud of his part.

“You recruited your brother to scare us?” Reggie doesn’t know how to feel considering he always join in on Carlos’ “paranormal videos” and how much the two have bonded bc of them.

“You scared ghosts with a ghost?” Alex points out the irony.

“You can’t just do that!” Luke holds his heart like he’s trying to relax his breathing. “My life just flashed before my eyes.”

“Your afterlife.” Reggie corrects him with a whisper.

“That’s how you properly spook someone.” Julie smiles.

It takes them a second to collect themselves but once they do they can’t help but laugh and congratulate Julie, she got them good.

Julie explains that Carlos already had the sheet with the drawn on sharpie face ready bc for several years he got Ray multiple times with that same gag. Every Halloween seasons it’s like a tradition for him to spook Ray and even though Ray suspects it his son still gives him a fright bc he always catches him off guard. It was just her idea for him to use it to spook other people which was definitely worth it

#the power there would have been if we had a Jatp Halloween special the possibilities #I just love the image of the three being like ‘yeah we can be scary 😠’ but like… just look at them 💀 they could never #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp netflix #jatp luke #julie molina #alex mercer #reggie peters

[dissonantharmony]

@ceretweek day 3: connect/companion

(yes i know ceret week ended in july. yes im still posting this 5 months late anyway)

how could i not do heartduo my beloved this year...eret and tommy have a great dynamic in the few times they've properly interacted, and their similar experiences with dream make them perfect for talks about the Horrors together <3

this comic also comes as a fic!! you can read the fic version under the cut :D

“He knew how to make you feel all… small, ‘n shit.”

Tommy’s voice cuts through the quiet sounds of the garden. Puffy had apparently told him connecting with nature was good for him, and he’d barged into Eret’s castle practically demanding to use their garden for the “low, low price of this weed.” Eret holds it in their hands now, the texture of the kelp flat and smooth against their fingertips, all while wondering why on earth Tommy had chosen to drag them down with him as he sprawled out in the grass and started rambling about things they didn’t quite follow.

“Pardon?” she mumbles.

Tommy tosses her a side-eyed look. “You know. He’d…He’d always be happiest when you’re alone. Like he’s the only thing you’ve got, and you’ve gotta depend on him for shit. Like a—like a bug or somethin’.”

“Parasite,” Eret finds herself supplying.

“Yeah!” That look again. Like he knows something Eret’s not quite in on. Or maybe she is.

There’s a rustling on Tommy’s side, a gentle lull in the rambling, and Eret finds herself speaking to fill the silence.

“He always—He always wanted to be the most important thing in the world to you. Like you’d live or die without him. Everything you say is just his words, everything you do and every choice you make is just what he wants. Like—like to him you’re just a p—”

She cuts herself off, throat tight. The noise of Tommy turning to look at her reaches her ears.

“Prey?”

“Pet.” She doesn’t turn to meet his gaze. “Puppet, maybe.”

���Entertainment.”

Something strikes in Eret’s stomach, cold and heavy. “...Yeah.”

Silence falls over them once again.

“I think,” Tommy announces after a while, “he was only there to watch.”

“Sit there, look pretty,” Eret recites in reply.

“Jee-sus Christ…” Violent twisting sounds and a loud, drawn-out sigh. “What a fucking dickhead.”

Eret doesn’t reply. His hands toy with the kelp, twisting it into knots over and over with minutely-shaking hands.

“Stop thinking so damn loud.”

“Wh—Ow!” A force hits the side of Eret’s face, wide and coarse. He sits up in indignation to stare at Tommy, who threw…Oh. He threw a flower crown at him.

Dandelions. Eret has weeds in his garden, apparently.

“Put it on, bitch.”

Eret puts it on. It fits perfectly, better than the crown Dream gave him ever did. His gaze turns to Tommy and the dirt around him, torn up and littered with the roots of dandelions.

“Did you get all the roots?”

Tommy glances at the mess around him. “Maybe? They’re strong fuckers, though. They’ll bounce back. Better than ever.”

Eret meets his eyes, uncovered white staring into icy blue, and they think they get it. They offer a wry smile and start tugging up the dandelions on their own side, recalling Tommy’s lessons on making flower crowns from so, so long ago.

“Yeah. We will.”

#ceretweek2023 #dream smp #eret #eret fanart #tommyinnit #heartduo my beloved #my art #my writing

[gerrystamour]

here i have found some peace of mind [chapter two]

Rated E | Steddie

[ PREVIOUS ]

Steve gets to know 'Chris' a lot better. CW: This chapter deals a bit with dysphoria and deadnaming. Steve is deadnamed by a colleague in the chapter (which is based on a situation I actually went through and I'm personally working with HR to address). This chapter also delves into grief a little bit, particularly about the loss of a parent. Because apparently I not only wanted to process my Trans Feelings, but also my Grief Feelings. (Though my relationship with my dad before my dad passed was not strained) NOW INCLUDES AMAZING FANART drawn by my lovely lovely lovely friend Simon @sentient-trash !!

[ READ ON AO3 ]

longing for isolation, for starlit skies

Steve sat at his desk typing up an email to one of the event managers’ clients, quietly grumbling to himself about why he had to email them without any real heat. The managers were busy, and sometimes it just made more sense for Steve to email the clients outright. He would do it, he would just bitch about it while he did it.

“Steve.”

Looking up, he met Joyce’s eyes and cringed under her stern expression.

“Yes, Joyce?” he asked, but he already knew what this was about.

“I was looking through the turnovers. Did Nancy give you a group the other day?” she asked, and Steve looked at his computer.

“It’s just a band and film crew. I’ve already made contact with the client,” Steve said, his ears heating up when Joyce sighed.

“I’d like to speak to you in my office, please,” she said and walked away.

Sighing heavily, Steve finished the email he was working on, sent it, and locked his computer. When he got up and turned, Nancy was hovering at her cubicle and chewing her bottom lip.

“Sorry,” she mouthed, and Steve just rolled his eyes and trudged across the room to Joyce’s office and shut the door.

When he sat down heavily, Joyce sighed again.

“I’m not mad at you, Steve, so you can relax,” she soothed, and Steve tried to do just that. “I’m concerned because I don’t want you burning yourself out again.”

“I know. It’s just rooms, and it’s a band so it’s super easy,” Steve replied quickly. “She wanted me to handle it.”

“Then she should have turned it over properly and put it in the notes that she wanted you to handle it,” Joyce said sternly.

“Nancy seems to think that if she turned it over properly and asked for you to assign it to me, you would assign it to one of the other managers,” Steve said with a knowing raise of his eyebrows when Joyce looked away and cleared her throat. “C’mon, she has a point, Joyce.”

“That’s because if I agreed to assign every group she wants given to you, you would be back in the same mess you were last summer,” Joyce said a bit defensively. “Tell me about the group, and I’ll decide if you can keep it.”

“I already made contact with the client!” Steve said.

“And you were not actually assigned this group properly. If I decide I want to take the group from you, that is my decision to make as your manager,” Joyce said, standing her ground.

Steve sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes. “You would undermine your team like that in the eyes of the client?” he asked, and Joyce pursed her lips.

“And Nancy didn’t undermine me by assigning you a group?” she challenged, and Steve sighed heavily.

“It’s a band and film crew, about twenty rooms if I remember correctly. They’re arriving in July, have already sent the rooming list and the riders, and the tour manager has already received the confirmed rooming list,” Steve rattled off and leaned back in the chair to stare up at one of the motivational posters on the wall above his boss, getting ready for Joyce to take the turnover.

“Is there any catering?” she asked.

“Nope,” Steve replied, trying not to sound dejected. He really liked working with bands and film crews, so the two being combined? He was looking forward to it.

“Steve, you know I’m not trying to punish you, right?” Joyce asked imploringly.

“I know, but you’re also refusing to give me work that you know I actually enjoy,” he replied with a sigh as he looked back at her. “I know you’re worried about me burning out, but that means all I’ve gotten for almost a year has been small little meetings and pop-ups. I haven’t had a single tour, or band, or film crew in months and I’m starting to get sick of my work.”

“Why is this the first you’ve mentioned this?” Joyce asked, and Steve cringed at that.

“Because I knew you were just trying to help me, and I figured if I just kept going without complaining you’d stop babying me,” Steve replied honestly, shrugging one shoulder.

“Oh, Steve, I wasn’t trying to baby you or treat you like you were less capable,” Joyce replied with a big sigh. “And you telling me how you’re feeling about your work is not complaining.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve started, but just trailed off with another shrug. “Just… don’t give it to Tammy. She screws up rooms-only blocks like this every time, and I’ll practically be handling the group anyway.”

Joyce huffed a big sigh and shook her head. “You can keep this group. It has been a while, and I don’t want you burning out because you’re bored either,” she said and Steve looked at her, shocked. She still had a stern expression as she added, “I will be speaking to Nancy about going above me like that.”

“Of course,” Steve said quickly, so happy that he was keeping the group to feel bad that Nancy was going to get chewed out.

“And you! If you’re feeling that way about your work, you tell me, got it?” Joyce added firmly, pointing at him.

“Right, of course, absolutely,” Steve agreed, nodding quickly. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Joyce called and Tammy, one of the event managers, poked her head in.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone calling for Steve?” she said with an apologetic grimace. “He said his name is Chris? I have him on hold right now.”

Steve nodded and turned to Joyce. “Are we good?” he asked, and Joyce smiled and nodded.

“Yep, we’re good,” she replied and waved him off.

When Steve got back to his desk, he heard Tammy speaking to Chris before she transferred the call. Steve picked up on the first ring.

“Good afternoon, Steve speaking?” he said quickly.

“Good afternoon, handsome. How are things going in hotel land?”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes a little bit. “Busy, as always. Can’t complain though,” he replied as he tapped his pencil against his notebook. “How can I help you, Chris?”

“What if I just wanted to hear your voice?” Chris teased, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m on the clock. How can I help you?” Steve asked again, but there was a part of him that was still flattered by the attention, interested in the attention even.

And so began the almost-daily calls from Chris. Steve never actually reached out from his end because there was no reason for him to until they got closer to the actual stay. It was always Chris calling him to make requests, to discuss the area a bit more, or sometimes just to chat. As their work relationship progressed, Steve found it easier to fall into more friendly banter, even returning some of the flirting.

Steve still refused to try to find out who the band was or look Chris up, but mostly because he didn’t want to give a face to the man he was talking to on the phone just yet. He knew that if Chris was even half as hot as he sounded, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

As it stood, most days Chris would call, they would discuss matters pertaining to his band’s stay in July for five minutes, then spend the next twenty just talking about other stuff. Usually, it was just Steve talking about his job and complaining light-heartedly.

“The worst way to receive a rooming list is as a PDF,” Steve grumbled into the phone as he painstakingly copied and pasted a rooming list into a spreadsheet. “Please know that if a Group Housing Coordinator receives a rooming list as a PDF? They hate the client just a little bit.”

On the other end of the call, Chris chuckled before stopping abruptly. Steve smirked a bit as he could practically hear the dots connecting in Chris’ head.

“Didn’t we send our rooming list as a PDF?”

Steve snorted. “Maybe,” he replied cheekily, and Chris groaned.

“Is that why you are resisting my charm?” Chris whined and Steve laughed.

“That, and I’m also on the clock,” he reminded Chris teasingly.

“You could always give me your number?”

Steve sighed and thought back to the employee conduct manual. It would be wildly inappropriate to give a client his number. “Not while you’re my client,” he responded, resolving to pull out the conduct manual and read it over again.

“So… after?” Chris pressed and Steve laughed.

“I’m not making any promises, Chris,” Steve sighed, chewing his lip while a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

There was some shouting on the other end of the call and Chris sighed. “Alright, Stevie, that’s my cue to go in a bit. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Steve almost said yes, but then remembered he had requested the next day off. “No, unfortunately I won’t be in the office tomorrow. I’m taking a personal day,” he replied.

“Oh, doing anything fun or interesting?” Chris asked, and Steve actually grinned at how interested he sounded.

“I wish. Uh, nah, I have appointments and then visiting a cemetery, so,” Steve trailed off with a shrug before cringing. Chris couldn’t see him shrugging, what the hell?

“Oh shit, sorry. That was really stupid of me to ask,” Chris said, and Steve laughed.

“It’s all good, man. I wouldn’t’ve answered if it bothered me,” he admitted and on the other end of the line, Chris chuckled lightly.

“That makes sense. I’ll talk to you another time then.”

“Or you could relax and not call me again about your stay in July,” Steve insisted as he always did when they were about to hang up.

“Mm, no. I think I’ll continue to micromanage our stay, just to keep you on your toes, Stevie,” Chris replied and then hung up.

Steve sighed with a little grin as he hung his receiver up, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

“What the hell was that, Dingus?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin and looked up at Robin peering over his cubicle with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” Steve lied, and he could feel his face burning with his blush.

“Stephen, are you flirting with a client?” she hissed as she hurried around the cubicle wall to sit on his desk.

“No,” Steve hissed back, glancing around but thankfully no one was paying attention. “No, he is flirting with me.”

Robin gasped dramatically. “He?” she asked excitedly.

“Did you need something? Because I’m kind of busy,” Steve said, shoving his glasses up to scrub at his face.

“I texted you about food in Dustin’s Office, but you didn’t respond so I came to find you,” she immediately replied, smiling when Steve locked his computer and got up.

“I’m definitely in,” he replied happily.

“We’re talking about everything I overheard tomorrow, you hear me, Harrington?” Robin said as they walked, pointing at him accusingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes with a chuckle.

❖

The next morning, Steve woke up with his normal alarm, even though he technically had the day off. It was a bit nice, being able to get up and not rush through his morning routine. He even had time to make a proper breakfast and eat it while listening to an audiobook.

Steve took his time in the shower and then shaving and doing his hair. With a small grimace, he put on gloves and tried to hold his breath as he smeared his testosterone gel on his shoulders. Holding his breath never seemed to work as the sting of the alcohol evaporating always hit his sinuses.

Once he was showered and groomed, Steve went back to his room to get dressed. “Robbie, time to get up!” he called as he passed Robin’s room, pounding on her door without pausing in his steps.

Forty-five minutes later, Steve and Robin were in the car on their way to the first of several errands and appointments. The two of them tried to schedule as many of their things for the same day as they could so Robin wouldn’t have to worry about catching the bus. Plus, it was generally just better to have company for errands and appointments.

“So, what’s up with you and your client?” Robin asked around a yawn, scrubbing her eyes. She had been working a huge dinner party until two in the morning the night before, and hadn’t gotten home until after three.

“Nothing is up, Robs,” Steve muttered, trying to recall the perfectly good explanations he had come up with for what she overheard yesterday but drawing a complete blank. “He just calls a lot, and he just flirts with me. It’s nothing.”

“Okay, but you were definitely flirting back,” Robin said, and Steve shot a quick glare at her. “C’mon, Steve, I can tell when you’re flirting, and you were definitely flirting. I’ve heard you shutting people down before and you were not doing that. Maybe you thought you were, but you weren’t.”

“Fine, maybe I was flirting back. It’s not like it matters, or like anything’ll come of it. He’ll get bored eventually, and he’s only going to be in town for like… three days,” Steve said explosively, running a hand through his hair. “If we hook-up, and that’s a huge if, it’ll be super casual because he’ll be off to the next place, so, whatever.”

There was a long pause, the silence between them deafening.

“Steve,” Robin finally started, and her voice was the gentle one she only brought out when Steve was being especially reckless. “You know how you are with casual…”

Cringing, Steve tried to wrangle up some kind of defense against that. But it was true, it was largely why he struggled so much with dating and a huge factor in why he and Nancy didn’t work out. Steve’s feelings for people seemed to move at the speed of light with zero in-between, whether they were platonic or romantic. The reason he only had one friend was thanks to Robin being very similar, or at least receptive to having someone immediately prepared to die for her after two proper conversations.

“Like I said, he’ll get bored eventually,” Steve said instead of addressing Robin’s point out loud. “It’s not like he even talks about himself much.”

“Maybe you should ask him about himself,” Robin suggested, shrugging when Steve glanced at her questioningly. “If he’s just in it for some casual sex while he’s in town, he’ll probably avoid opening up, right? But if not… just because he’s not in town long doesn’t mean it has to be casual.”

Steve considered Robin’s words for a few moments, rolling them around in his head. “Maybe,” he conceded after a bit, ignoring the smug smile that split Robin’s face.

A few hours later found the two of them at the big cemetery near the posh neighbourhood where Steve grew up in the suburbs. It was one of the errands Steve dreaded, but he did it every year anyway.

Steve didn’t like visiting graves. It felt performative, fake, like it was an act he was putting on. There were better places for him to visit where he felt closer to that person than their grave. But Steve knew that if his mom arrived tomorrow and there were no flowers from Steve on his dad’s grave, she would immediately call him and demand an explanation.

He didn’t hold it against her, not at all. Melissa Harrington was amazing, even if she wasn’t very present in Steve’s life as he was growing up. She was doing what she could to make up for that, and even now that Steve had moved out to the city, they met up regularly for brunch on the weekends.

Steve’s relationship with his dad had been strained just before his unexpected passing. Thomas Harrington had grand ideas about Steve’s future, and he pushed Steve hard to reach that potential. He hadn’t done it cruelly, by any means, just thoughtlessly and without considering Steve’s wishes at the time. When Steve had gotten his first job at a hotel and fallen in love with hospitality, Thomas was not very happy and made his displeasure known.

Ultimately, though, Thomas had been coming around. He’d started showing an interest in Steve’s work and growth at his property. They were fighting less and enjoying each other’s company more often again.

One of the last conversations Steve had with his dad had been an aborted attempt to come out of the closet. Steve never got the actual words— “Dad, I think I’m a boy…”—but there was something in the way Thomas had gripped his shoulder firmly and pulled him into a tight hug that said he knew and that it was okay.

If Steve had known he wouldn’t get another chance to try again…

After a lengthy walk, they finally arrived at Thomas’ grave and Steve immediately began tidying it up. The graveyard was well maintained, so there wasn’t much for him to do, but it felt better fussing over brushing grass off the gravestone than just standing there. Once he was done, Steve laid the flowers on the grave and stood back up.

Robin had joined Steve on his annual visit to his dad’s grave since the first anniversary of his passing. She never questioned why he didn’t say anything when he was there, and she never tried to make him. It was the one reason he always visited the day before the actual anniversary to avoid running into his mom. Melissa would spend hours at Thomas’ grave talking to the gravestone, and she didn’t understand why Steve couldn’t.

It just felt weird to talk to a slab of granite in the middle of a silent field of slabs of granite. The body six feet below them wasn’t his dad anymore; that body stopped being his dad suddenly and quietly—painlessly, the doctors all insisted—in the middle of the night seven years ago.

“Need more time, Dingus?” Robin asked quietly, and Steve took a deep breath. Reaching up to rub his eyes, he found that he’d been crying.

Quickly wiping the tears off his cheeks, Steve shook his head. “No, I’m good,” he said, and he sighed happily when Robin tucked herself under his arm.

“We should get take-out tonight. We earned it after all our running around, yeah?” she said and wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist.

Steve smiled and nodded. “Yeah, take-out sounds perfect,” he hummed, tugging Robin in tightly against his side to kiss the top of her head.

❖

Returning to work the next day was hard, but Steve needed to keep up the momentum. If he took the rest of the week off like his mom always tried to get him to do, Steve would wallow and come back to work in a worse mood.

Unfortunately for him, he had the absolute displeasure to open his emails to find one of the above-property sales managers deadnaming him to not one, not two, but three different clients.

It wasn’t the first time she used his deadname in an email directly with a client. She did that a lot, and Steve was endlessly patient about it because he knew this came with the territory of not legally changing his name yet. The main system where this sales manager would see his name still had his legal one, and Steve reasoned that she oversaw too many properties to remember his preferred name.

It was different this time.

Good afternoon Martha,

Thank you so much for reaching out about your request to add more rooms to your block! I am connecting you with my amazing on-property colleague Carly (Steve) who will follow-up with you if they have availability. She will be delighted to assist you.

It was the first time she added his preferred name in parentheses like that with a double-whammy of using the wrong pronouns. Steve stared at the email, and then the other two and, yup, sure enough she did the same exact thing in every email. The kicker for him was the fact that the sales manager had, at some point, added her pronouns in her signature.

Steve drafted an absolutely scathing email that would absolutely get him fired if he actually hit send. The vent helped a bit, so he deleted it and focused on actioning the requests and replying to the clients. His signature obviously had his proper name and pronouns, so he hoped politely responding would make her look like the moron she was to the clients.

But he was set even further off-kilter by the whole interaction. On top of his grief, he felt like he was drifting outside of his body, above it and slightly to the left so that he could observe himself. Everything felt wrong, things he hadn’t felt dysphoria over in years crawling back up to suffocate him.

He felt nauseous at the way his hands moved on the keyboard or lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, the way he crossed his ankles under his chair or waved to Nancy as she walked past. Steve laughed at a joke Tammy told him, and the sound of it in his ears was like shards of glass and he just barely concealed his grimace long enough for Tammy to turn away. Steve caught himself chewing his nails at some point because they were too long, people could tell.

Steve was proudly out as trans. He managed to get his pronoun and pride pins approved against his property’s dress code and all of his public social media disclosed that he was trans. All anyone had to do was look him up online and they would know. 

That didn’t mean he wanted to be seen as trans all the time.

He knew he was fortunate enough that HRT treated him well and he had been able to afford top surgery, so he “passed” pretty well. That meant he could have the safety of people’s assumptions in situations where that person might be hostile if they found out. Passing made his job a lot easier, even if a lot of his work with clients happened over emails and only face-to-face once they came to the hotel.

To be outed from the get-go in those emails? It, quite frankly, sucked.

The giant shit cherry on top of the shit sundae was that Steve had to renew his security badge with the airport that day, too. 

All of his paperwork was under his legal name, obviously, but the security agent the year before had let him put his preferred name on his badge. When he made the same request to the agent this year, she argued with him about it in front of the other people in the pass office. The agent only agreed to put his preferred name on the badge when her manager came around to investigate the hold-up and gave her a stern look.

If Steve wasn’t so raw from everything else, he would have been grateful. However, he just felt sick, like he had bullied them into letting him keep a badge that didn’t have his deadname on it. 

Like he was getting away with something because he was a big enough dick about it.

By the time he returned to his desk, he had more emails from the bitch from sales and one of the clients responded asking who “Carly” was, and Steve was ready to go home.

Just then, his phone rang, and he couldn’t even muster the energy to check who it was.

“Chicago In-Terminal Hotel Events, this is Steve speaking. How can I assist you?” he rattled off in his best customer-service voice given the circumstances.

“Heya, Stevie! You kinda sound like shit, man.”

Steve laughed humourlessly, even as something loosened in his chest at hearing Chris’ voice. “Thank God someone knows how to use my actual name,” he blurted before he could stop himself.

There was a pause before Chris sternly said, “Of course. What sort of asshole doesn’t use your actual name if they know it?”

“You’d be surprised,” Steve said vaguely, minimizing his emails so he didn’t have to look at them while on the phone with Chris. “What’s up, Chris?”

“Honestly? I’m just kind of bored and I missed chatting with you yesterday,” Chris replied, and his tone was so sincere that Steve felt bad that he was in such a messed up mood. “I know you’re on the clock, but if you have time…?”

Steve tapped his pencil against his notebook as he considered. He was in a rotten mood, but he already felt himself settling back into his skin, feeling a lot less jagged and wrong just after a couple minutes listening to Chris’ voice. That was a bit scary to consider, given the nature of their relationship. This guy shouldn’t have that much power over Steve’s moods, yet he did.

Remembering Robin’s suggestion from the day before, Steve decided to try that.

“Listen, Chris, I’ve had a really shitty day and talking about myself would suck for you,” Steve started slowly, taking a deep breath. “Maybe you could tell me about you? It feels like I do most of the talking…”

There is another long pause. “I dunno, man, there isn’t much to say about myself…”

Steve’s stomach dropped at the deflection. So, did that mean the interest was just casual on Chris’ end? He didn’t want to open up because he was just looking for a quick fuck, nothing more? Steve lied to himself and decided he could live with that, probably.

“Okay, sure. I’ll have to talk to you some other time then,” Steve said, his voice going tight.

“Steve, wait, don’t hang up. I didn’t—there’s just not a lot to talk about that isn’t already all over the internet, y’know?” Chris laughed a bit and added very quietly, “like, I’m surprised we’re even still talking at all at this rate.”

Steve frowned at the last bit, and reconsidered his decision not to sleuth out who the band was. Were there some shady details surrounding Chris Cunningham or the band he was managing the tour for?

“Dude, you—I haven’t even looked up the band you’re managing. I have no idea who you are,” Steve admitted, and the startled laugh he received brought a smile to his face. “Besides, why would I take what the internet says about you when I could get the real details directly from the source? Would you look at my socials and decide you knew me based on that?”

Chris chuckled. “I mean, I have peeked at your socials, Steve,” he confessed, and Steve felt his blush all the way down to his bellybutton. “I didn’t do much digging, I promise! I just—I’m very visual and wanted to put a face to your voice.”

“No, you’re all good, my public socials are, well, public for a reason,” Steve said with a laugh, chewing his lip a bit. “You, uh, like what you saw?”

Chris gave a quiet groan. “You’ve no idea, big boy,” he confessed softly, his voice deep and rumbling through the line, raising goosebumps up the back of Steve’s neck. Then Chris took a deep breath and asked, “okay, Stevie, what do you want to know about me?”

Everything, Steve almost said, and he barely stopped himself. “You mentioned your uncle once. Can you tell me about him?” he said instead, and Chris’ laugh was beautiful.

“My Uncle Wayne, literally one of the best things to ever happen to me, honestly,” Chris sighed.

“Only one of the best things?” Steve questioned curiously.

“I mean, the band actually breaking onto the scene makes that list,” Chris laughed, then added, “getting to talk to you is on there, too.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughed, blushing at how genuine Chris managed to make that absolute line sound. “Okay, tell me about your uncle.”

“Uncle Wayne basically raised me. I lived with my own folks until I was like, thirteen? I think? Then moved in with Wayne. My old man wasn’t a fan of my lifestyle and all that,” Chris explained, his tone flippant, like it didn’t hurt anymore, but Steve had a feeling that wasn’t true.

“It sucks that your parents were like that,” Steve said quietly, hoping Chris heard the sincerity in his voice.

“Yeah, but hey, I wouldn’t’ve met the boys or—yeah, the boys, y’know? Wayne taught me everything I know about guitars and music and shit,” Chris said fondly.

“You play guitar?” Steve pushed, a little embarrassed at how much more attractive Chris was with that little bit of new information.

There was silence over the line for several moments, long enough for Steve to get concerned the call was about to drop when Chris finally said, “Yeah, uh, like a little bit? I don’t play as much as I used to, and obviously not good enough to actually be in the band or anything.”

Chris was laughing at that in a way that didn’t quite sound forced but it didn’t sound real either. “Well, I still think that’s really cool. Always had a thing for musicians,” he teased instead, smirking at the startled laugh that bubbled out of Eddie.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Stevie,” Chris said, his voice low in a way that had Steve shivering.

The next couple of weeks passed with daily phone calls from Chris where he vaguely talked about his life prior to the band taking off, about the band mates and their antics. He mentioned a YouTube channel briefly once, and Steve was tempted to find it but… he liked getting to know Chris without that crutch. Steve liked the mystery of not knowing what Chris looked like.

Steve was really smitten with the way Chris talked about the people in his life, the way his tone would turn so painfully affectionate that Steve could see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Did Chris have dimples? He hoped Chris had dimples. Steve was always a sucker for dimples. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Chris told his friends about their conversations, and if Chris spoke about him with that same tone.

If Steve also became a bit more active and a bit sluttier on his socials knowing Chris was maybe monitoring them, that was his business.

“You seem really close with the band for a tour manager,” Steve commented one day after Chris told him a funny story about the frontman nearly falling off the stage during a recent soundcheck. Apparently, he went to lean on his cane purely out of habit, forgetting he wasn’t using it at that moment, and was barely saved by one of the other band members.

“We’ve all been best friends since, like, middle school,” Chris said quietly, and Steve’s smile was big enough to hurt his face. “The band got serious about the dream in high school and then the five of us just… did what we had to to stay together.”

“That’s amazing. I only have, like, one friend that I’ve had more than a year,” Steve said, and he cringed at how pathetic that sounded.

“C’mon, no way,” Chris laughed, and Steve cringed again.

“I’m serious, man. I was… I used to be an asshole,” Steve confessed lightly, thinking back to the way he was in high school and his only attempt at college.

It was a lot of desperately performing a gender that felt wrong and overcompensating for his feelings of inadequacy. He remembered the way he lashed out and held people at arm’s length, the way he would sling cutting remarks at anyone who seemed to be thriving in their own weirdness. How dare they be weird and happy, when Steve had been trying so hard to be normal and was so miserable for it?

Steve felt bad for Carly when he looked back on those memories. She wasn’t real and, on some level, she knew that, even back then when she had no vocabulary for it. Not being real was scary, confusing, painful, and like a wounded animal she bit and clawed anyone who came near enough to see how hollow she was.

That didn’t mean Steve stood by those actions, that he didn’t feel immensely guilty for them, but he was working on showing compassion to that part of himself. It was something he learned in therapy the handful of times he actually went.

“Hm, well, you don’t seem like an asshole anymore,” Chris said, breaking Steve out of his thoughts.

“I’m trying everyday not to be,” Steve agreed, smiling as he tapped his pencil against his notebook.

Chris paused for a bit, sighing. “Go to dinner with me,” he said abruptly. “We’re at the hotel for three nights, right? Go to dinner with me.”

Steve’s breath left him in a whoosh at the blunt request. It was more of a command and that thought left Steve feeling a bit lightheaded. “You’re my client—” Steve started, and Chris made a bit of a noise.

“The way I see it, I stop actually being your client at five that Friday when you clock-out, right?” Chris said a bit suggestively, and Steve blushed.

Steve had looked up the employee conduct manual and the official rules were that dating clients was allowed as long as it happened off the clock and off-property. Their phone calls were blatantly against those rules, but they discussed enough about the room block each time to justify the conversations a little bit.

“Stevie?” Chris sounded so unsure that Steve instantly felt bad for letting his brain run away with him.

“It definitely has to be when I’m off the clock, and we can’t have dinner on-property,” Steve practically whispered into the phone and Chris made a triumphant little noise that brought a grin to Steve’s face.

“Fuck yeah, Stevie, I can’t wait! I know the perfect place!” Chris gushed and then some shouting in the background caught Chris’ attention. “Yeah! I know—I’ll be there in a—fuck off Garebear, I’ll fucking cut you—Stevie, I gotta go, okay?”

Steve laughed and nodded. Grimacing as he reminded himself that Chris couldn’t see him, Steve said, “yeah, of course. Talk to you later.”

“You know it, gorgeous,” Chris cooed and then dial-tone was droning in Steve’s ear.

It took Steve probably a full minute to actually hang the receiver up and wipe the grin off his face.

[ NEXT ]

[ READ ON AO3 ]

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider reblogging!! Taglist! @scarcrossdlvrs, @sidekick-hero, @afewproblems, @mylilplanet, @starryeyedjanai, @steddieas-shegoes, @estrellami-1, @hellion-child, @princess-eddie, @pluckedstrings, @patchworkgargoyle, @findafight, @spookednsaucy, @inairbinad, @lillemilly, @matchingbatbites, @lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus, @scoops-stevie, @steddierthings, @bylerwillnotwriteitself, @indigohightide, @vecnuthy, @stobinesque If you want to join the taglist, just request it in the tags or reblog comments!!

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #gerry writes #peace of mind

[gay-ppl-real]

More WH doodles!

These are from the same sketch page as the Frank trivia drawings but they're not connected with any specific fun facts lol

My first colour drawing of Home! Now I can say with full confidence that I truly, properly, have drawn everyone in the neighbourhood

The design for Julie's outfit in the bug hunting doodle!

#innisart #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home fanart #frank frankly #julie joyful #welcome home home

[fuyunotaiyou]

Otomedia Summer 2023

July 2023 Issue (translation)

Thankyou @mirai-e-jump for the scans!

--------------------

BAD BOYS fighting as KING

Five King heroes, King Ohger, gathered to protect "Chikyu" from the Earth Empire Bugnarak. Taisei Sakai, who plays Gira, and Aoto Watanabe, who plays Yanma Gast, will appear from the latest work, which is gaining attention for its trend of unique and strong characters. We asked the two of them who play bad kings, "King of Evil" and "King of Yankee," to talk about the appeal of the work.

Gira and Yanma, even though they have different personalities, aim for the same place.

"King Ohger" has started broadcasting; how is the reaction from the fans?

Watanabe: Honestly, I travel back and forth between my home and the shooting site these days, so I don’t really feel that the program is being broadcasted nationwide (laughs). However, I felt happy when I saw kids posing with the Yanma hairstyle on SNS. When I find that kind of impression, "There was this, there was that," like this, I tell the members myself.

Sakai: When a related keyword becomes the No. 1 trend, even the members get excited, surprised by the great SNS response. I think there are many reasons to be drawn to it, like the fantasy elements, the LED background synthesis, and the depth of the characters.

Watanabe: Erica-chan, who plays Hymeno, was delighted to find a cute picture of Hymeno.

When playing Gira and Yanma, what kind of requests did the director make?

Taisei: As Gira is a character with clear emotions, I was told, "I want you to act honestly with Gira’s emotions." Even now, I find it difficult to act honestly. I want to properly master it this year.

Watanabe: There was a physical request regarding Yanma’s look. I was told, "Be conscious of the fact that your eyes don’t look sharp enough in the normal way you look." However, Yanma is an unruly person from the slums, but if he is too much of a Yankee, then he will become indecorous, and his being a king will fade away. I am conscious of the fact that Yanma has two faces: one that lives as he is and the other that stands in front of the people.

Two of you play such kings, but could you please tell me how you feel when you see each other’s performances?

Taisei: Aoto has lots of experience in stage performances, so I feel he has skills that I don’t have. For example, I am really envious of the fact that he is able to take the director's directions and immediately express them.

Watanabe: I feel Taisei expresses his feelings as they are, and when I watch from the side, I think "He doesn’t like to lie about his feelings". There are times when he gets stuck while performing and has to do retakes, but I think what caught everyone’s attention once it aired was Taisei’s precision in acting without lying.

Taisei: Really?

Watanabe: I think it’s because of Taisei’s acting that the response to the first episode was so good.

Taisei: It’s embarrassing. (laughs)

Kingohger's world view created with CG is also attractive, but how does it feel from the performer's side?

Taisei: We shoot with green screens and LEDs the whole time, so there are not many locations. I get used to studio shooting, but I still feel the difficulty of imagining the invisible spaces.

Watanabe: On the other hand, I think it becomes easy to do it on the location site. When we do studio shooting, there are times when I don’t understand where I am. However, there is CG scenery projected on monitors and sets of CG brass photos. I feel that staff also creates an easy-to-act environment for us.

Gira, who acts as a villain, and Yanma, the Yankee. I think they are the characters who took the "evil path" instead of the royal path, but how do you feel about their "evil path"?

Taisei: In order to protect the children and the people, Gira goes down the evil path himself. I think it is a simple and easy-to-understand evil path for the sake of justice.

Watanabe: Yanma has the impression that he has clear standards of right and wrong inside of him. If he thinks something is good, it is good, and if he thinks something is bad, it is bad, regardless of the world’s values of "good and bad". Rather than an evil path, I think he is a person with his own righteousness. For the sake of people, Gira will even do what he thinks is wrong, but Yanma follows what he believes is right. I think that is the difference between these two.

Taisei: I feel they aim in the same direction. For Gira, Yanma represents the ideal figure of a king. That’s probably why Gira said to Yanma, "Be my friend!" and they are still working together as friends.

Over time, was there a moment when your impression of the character changed?

Taisei: Gira’s "protecting people is justice" like will hasn’t changed, so I think there isn’t a big change character-wise. However, it seems there is a change in his mindset, as his sense of companionship has gotten stronger after getting helped by Yanma and others, and his feelings as king have strengthened after learning that he is of royal Husty blood. 

Watanabe: In episodes 1 and 2, Yanma showed his face as a king, but from episode 3 onwards, after meeting the other kings with the same standing, my impression of him changed. At first, I felt that he is a king who pulls everyone in, but I think he is a character who is not complete and is still in the process of learning. There are also scenes where he doesn't separate his feelings, and instead of doing the right thing logically, he prioritizes his emotions. I think there may be a time where he will fail because of his way of life, so I am looking forward to the process of Yanma growing as an adult.

I would like the two of you, who spend time shooting together, to introduce each other to our readers.

Watanabe: Perhaps I think Taisei’s public image is "a bit clumsy". But my image of Taisei is "a guy with a manly spirit".

Taisei: Really?

Watanabe: Even when we go together to eat, he never lets me pay the bill. (while imitating) Like, "I don’t like it".

Taisei: Ha-ha

Watanabe: Even if he didn’t pay that day, he will contact me the next day and say, "I want to properly take care of money matters". He has a great manly spirit, and when he is in a good mood, he says, "I am in a good mood, so I will pay the taxi fare".

Taisei: Stop it! (laughs)

Watanabe: Although it is private, he has a manly spirit even during work. When something is not satisfactory, he himself asks, "Can I try one more time?"

Taisei: There were times like that?

Watanabe: I feel you were not able to say it in the beginning, but now you have become better at saying it. Because I think you are the type of person who wants to say things on your own.

How is Mr. Watanabe seen from Mr.Sakai’s point of view?

Taisei: My first impression of Aoto is Cool. But he is totally different; he is a person who always expressively expresses his emotions. When we play Taiko No Tatsujin in the dressing room, if he makes a mistake and is about to lose, he will say "Ahh!" in a loud voice. When there is a favorite side dish in his lunch box, he will make a face like, "I am so happy". He seems like Gira.

Watanabe: Certainly! I guess I am Gira. (laughs)

Finally, please give a message to our readers.

Watanabe: I think Yanma is still an incomplete character, and he will continue to change as he overcomes ordeals. I would like everyone to watch over what kind of cool guy he will become in the end and how he has grown as a person compared to episode 1. Thank you!

Taisei: The story is progressing rapidly, with Gira being royalty, Rcules being able to transform, and additional warriors appearing. Please look forward to all the intense developments in the future!

"Gira is the one who walks on the evil path himself to protect people"

"Yanma is a person who has his own good and bad"

#kingohger #ohsama sentai kingohger #king ohger #ohsama sentai king ohger #king-ohger #ohsama sentai king-ohger #gira husty #super sentai #yanma gast #sakai taisei #watanabe aoto #translation #i wanted to this for a while #finally did it!!! #thanks to mirai e no jump for the scans #not good at it #so feedbacks and suggestions are welcome

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 3: Awkward Fumblings

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 2

September 1985

Julie sits on one of the picnic benches in the community area of the trailer park. She has one of her many notebooks open to a page she’s been working on for weeks. It’s a pencil drawing of the short story she wrote a few weeks ago. An empty field with serene trees and clear skies. The perfect background for the forefront of her story, if she could just figure out how to draw it. 

One of the trailer doors slams and a girl around her age goes around her trailer, heading to the gate with a small food tray. Her name is Max, Julie thinks. She and her mom moved into the trailer down the street from her a month or two ago. 

She shuts her notebook, the ideas of how to depict the scene she was drawing not coming to her anyway. It’s weird how the scenes created in her mind can get twisted when she tries drawing them on paper. 

When Max is walking back to her trailer, now with an empty tray of food, Julie walks up to her. 

“Hey,” she says, interrupting Max’s movement. “I’m Julie, I live two trailers down from you.”

“Cool,” Max replies with a cold glare. “I’m Max.”

“Were you feeding your dog?” Julie was never good at making friends, she doesn’t even know why she’s talking to Max at all. But she knows everyone else in the trailer park and they’re either too old to be friends with or too young. There’s just something about Max that she thinks might click. 

Max rolls her eyes slightly. Julie can’t tell if she’s annoyed with her or something else. “Yeah, he’s out back behind that fence.”

“Oh, I’ve seen him a few times. Wondered when he showed up.” They stand there awkwardly for a moment, Julie slightly swaying with the book held in front of her. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Max says with an attitude that means she probably didn’t mean it. 

Julie gives her a tight-lipped smile before walking back to her trailer. 

She doesn’t talk to Max for a few more weeks. She sees her a lot, just from sitting out on park benches and sometimes at school. But she doesn’t go up to talk to her again, Max clearly didn’t like it the first time. Doesn’t blame her. She caught her at a bad time, probably, and that made her not want to talk to Julie again. It just happens sometimes, most of the time. 

The trailer door slams shut again after a screaming match Julie could hear between Max and her mom. Mainly Max screaming, but about what Julie doesn’t know. After living in a trailer park for so long, she got used to shutting out the noise of the other trailers. They all have the thinnest walls known to man and sound travels fast, but it’s better for everyone if they learn to tune it out. 

It’s bad enough living in a small town where everyone seems to know everything, they don’t need to be hearing what’s going on inside everyone else’s homes. 

Julie expects Max to go behind her trailer to where her dog sits behind the gate. That’s where she normally goes after slamming the door shut. But instead, the table creaks as Max sits across from her on the other bench. 

“What are you doing,” she asks bluntly. 

“Drawing a scene from one of my stories. I can’t seem to get the tone right.” Julie erases the people she had drawn in the foreground, they weren’t right. 

Max nods, looking unsure of why she’s even here. After their last interaction, Julie can’t help but ask the same question. “What is the tone supposed to be?”

“Tense. The story is about a family that seems normal to the reader, but there’s something off that they just can’t place. Until it ends and you find out that the dad was never actually addressed properly because he was a ghost the whole time.”

“Spoilers much,” Max jokes. It’s surprising, but not unwelcome. “That’s a cool concept though.”

“Thanks,” Julie puts her pencil down, deciding to try and figure out how to fix it later. 

“Did you hear anything before, when I was yelling at my mom?” Max blurts out, eyes darting away when asking the question. 

Julie shakes her head. “I try not to listen to what happens in other people’s trailers. You end up hearing things you regret. Like, a lot of sex.”

That makes Max snort. “I get what you mean.” There’s a comfortable silence that falls over them this time, like they bridged a gap that Julie hasn’t ever really before. “Could you show me your drawing, maybe I can help you figure out what to do.”

“Sure,” Julie shrugs. 

. . . 

“What the hell are you doing here, dingus,” Robin scolds him as he walks through the door of Family Video, head throbbing. “You said you had a migraine, get out of here.”

Steve winces when he fully opens his eyes to the bad fluorescents. “I called out last week for an obvious fake sickness, Keith won’t let me do it again, even if it’s real.”

“You look like you can barely stand, Steve. Go home. Actually, no, I’m calling Eddie to come pick you up.”

He waves her off. “No, no. It’s fine. I just need to drink some water and take more painkillers. I’m at the end of my last dose. And I drove over here just fine.”

Robin glares at him, her jaw clenched. “Fine. But if I see you pushing yourself too far across the limit, I am calling Eddie and helping him push you into his car to take you home.”

“I’ll be fine, Rob, promise.” He unscrews the cap of his water bottle and swallows two more pills. 

“And I’m turning off some of the lights, I don’t care.” Robin walks to the light switches by the break room and flips the switch where every other light turns off. Steve hates to admit it, but it did give him a little bit of relief. 

Compared to his other migraines, today’s ranks at about a three. He was able to get out of bed and stand, so that automatically puts it underneath an eighth. And when he takes his pain meds on time and makes sure to stay hydrated, he can make it through one six-hour shift. He probably would have called out if it was any longer, but he can do it today. 

And luckily for him, Thursdays tend to be slow so he’s able to lean on the counter for the majority of his shift while rewinding tapes. A tedious job that Keith would yell at him for not also doing returns while they were rewinding, but he left an hour ago so Steve could do what he wanted. Within reason. 

Halfway through his shift, there is a slight crowd of people as the school day ends always bringing in a few kids on their way home from school. The excess noise from the groups of teens makes Steve’s head throb more, or at least makes him notice it more. He takes a few deep breaths in between customers, trying to keep a less pissed-off face on. It might not work but he tries. 

As the crowd weans down, someone comes up to the counter, dropping a tape on it getting Steve’s attention. 

“Hey, Steve,” a familiar voice he can’t place says. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you look like shit.”

When he lifts his head, he sees Julie, staring at him with more concern than she probably wants to. They haven’t talked since last week when she showed up at his house. Not like he didn’t want to. But he didn’t have a number or an address to go to and waiting to see if he could catch her after school sounded creepy. So, he was waiting for her to come to him, but she didn’t, not yet. Maybe now he could say something, apologize for not trying to get her to stay more. 

“Hey,” he says, perking up a bit. “How are you?”

She shrugs. “As good as I can be. Uh, this might be insanely overdue. I was finally going through some of my old stuff and guess I never returned it.” She slides the tape across the counter. 

Steve picks it up, scans it, and immediately gets rid of the late fees. “You’re good.”

“What,” Julie looks at him confused. “I know I’ve had that tape for at least three weeks, there should be late fees.”

“For most people yeah, but the joys of knowing someone who is willing to cheat the system is no late fees.”

“And risk his job just to let the kids walk over him,” Robin interrupts, coming behind the counter. “Not you, the other kids,” she turns to Steve. “Go take your break, I got it.”

“There still a rush, Rob-.”

“And I can see you struggling from across the store. Go. Take. Your. Break. You absolute dingus.”

Julie looks at them confused. “I know I said you look like shit but are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he brushes off. 

“No, he’s not. He should be home but he’s an idiot who decided it was a good idea to come to work with a migraine.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he goes to grab his lunch from the break room. “I’m going to eat in my car, be back in fifteen.”

“Hey,” Julie calls out to him when he leaves the building. “I don’t mean to take up your break, but I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know you didn’t mean for last week to go like that. It wasn’t fair for me to lash out like that.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” He sits on the hood of his car, motioning for her to sit next to him.

She does. “Me too. I really hate it at that house.”

“You know you’re not like banned from coming over. I mean you don’t if you don’t want to. But as long as you don’t stay the night and don’t break curfew, Hop said it was ok for you to come over.”

She takes a moment to think about it. “I think I would like that.”

“I would too. I always wanted a sibling,” he adds on, trying to show her that he cares. 

“I did too,” Julie smiles. “I’ll let you get back to your break, hope your head feels better.”

“Thanks. See you around.”

Steve eats his sandwich from his car, taking a moment to lie in the back seat, throwing an arm over his eyes to try and give them a break from the light. When he gets back into the store, it’s a bit better, but still there. It’s one of the many life adjustments he’s had to go through after four years of going through the same thing over and over again, but he’s slowly getting used to it. 

“I saw you talking to Julie on your break, you two good?”

“I think so, she said that she might come over sometimes.”

Robin smiles. “That’s good. She seemed like a good kid. We talked a little bit when you were having your absurdly long talk with Eddie and even though she was kind of reserved, I could tell. Like she just gave me that impression, both in the night before and in that morning. What’s wrong you’re giving me that look when you feel stupid asking a question.”

“I haven’t made a friend under normal circumstances in years, Rob. How do I even go about this?” Steve asks, suddenly hit with the realization that he knows so little about her.

“I don’t know, things. I mean I know you said you didn’t get to talk that much when she was there the last time, so maybe just use what you learned last time and go from there. Also, if you think these are normal circumstances then I hate to break it to you, but it is not. Bond over your shitty father. Get the awkward getting-to-know phase out of the way. Something”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe.”

. . . 

Julie knocks on the door of the Harrington house for the second time in her life, but this time she is supposed to. At least she hopes. All her life she’s felt that wherever her father fucked off, she would never be accepted. Especially when she learned the circumstances of how she came to be, there would be no chance. She half expected that when her case workers finally located her father, he would give up the rights so fast and stick her in the system for two more years until she ages out.

Which in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t be the worst since she can leave in a few years. But she would do anything to get out of that house and can’t imagine that the next one would be any better.

But there was a small glimpse of hope that she couldn’t help but start to believe in. Steve genuinely seemed interested in knowing her, interested in trying to have some sort of relationship. And he wanted to try too.

It wasn’t surprising really, he was the only family she had that actually seemed interested at all. Someone she didn’t even know about until a month ago, and never met until the previous week. But in the short amount of time that they actually talked, she just had a feeling that this might work out.

“Give him some credit,” Chief Hopper said to her before dropping her off at the foster home. “There was nothing he could do to stop me from bringing you back. I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life because God knows that teenagers never listen to me, but just give it some thought.”

As Steve opens the door and invites her back into his house, she can’t help but think that what he told her was right. She wasn’t mad at Steve, and she should give them both a real chance to do something before jumping to conclusions. Both of them deserved that.

“So,” Steve starts, leading her to the living room. “This is going to sound really stupid.”

“Why do I not like the sound of that?”

He snorts. “I don’t really either, but it’s all I got. We don’t know that much about each other, so I figured we could speed run some of those really stupid icebreakers just to get it out there.”

“To get the awkward stuff out of the way and start to find things in common. I get it.”

“Yep, exactly,” he nods. “So, things about me. I just turned twenty back in August. I’m not in college and don’t plan to be. I work at the video store, as you saw. My favorite color is green, I told you some of my hobbies. And that’s all I got right now.”

“Very interesting information,” She says sarcastically. “My turn, I guess. I’m sixteen, my birthday is in January if you didn’t catch that already. Uhm. I don’t have a job, but I wouldn’t mind getting an after-school one soon to start saving up early. I would like to go to college sometime, but I’m not sure if that would be entirely in the cards right now. My favorite color is blue. And like I said, my hobbies are writing and drawing, but I also like to read a good bit too.”

“What do you want to major in, if you did go to college? Do you know yet?”

“Writing, I think. I’ve been doing it for a while now and I really like it, and English is my favorite subject so I definitely want to do something with literature.”

“That’s really cool. I wasn’t the greatest in school, I tried to pay attention but a lot of the subjects just were hard for me. But I always did the best in history for some reason. Or gym if we’re counting that as a real subject.”

Julie laughs. “Wow, you really were a jock.”

“I like sports and for a time, it was the only thing I thought I was good at.”

“And now? What else are you good at?”

Steve sinks back into the couch, taking a second to think. “I like to think I’m a good cook. I’ve been alone really since high school, so I learned how to cook. Probably not the best in the world, but I like doing it, and it’s fun.”

“What do you mean by really alone?” She asks. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I was just curious.”

He laughs, like what he just said wasn’t incredibly sad. “I forget that not everyone knows. My dad always went on a lot of business trips, but for the first few years since I was born, my mom stayed home. Then she found out about his cheating, and went with him. After that there were nannies, none stayed for more than a few years, my mom always found something about them that pissed her off. When I started high school, she stopped hiring them. Both of them agreed that I was old enough to be home alone.”

Not like she’s too shocked, but to hear that her suspicions were right about Steve’s parents never being home hurts. She can’t imagine what it was like living in a home where the two people who are supposed to take care of you are never there.

“When did your mom find out about the cheating?” She’s hit with the sudden thought that it might have been around the time she was born, and she couldn’t help but ask.

“I was four, maybe five.” It takes him a second, but his eyes widen, and he sits forward, mouth agape. “Holy shit.”

“That’s probably not a coincidence, is it?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “It would be insane if it was. I thought she wouldn’t have known, that he kept it from her too. She must have found out somehow.”

Guilt hits her. He lived an empty life because of her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. It’s his fault, always was. He cheated on my mom constantly. On the rare chance that they were home, the screaming matches were intense. She knew of them, of course she knew about you.”

“I’m still sorry. You didn’t deserve to be left alone because your dad is a piece of shit.”

He huffs. “I’m sorry too.”

“How did you meet Robin? I never got to ask the other day.” She changes the subject to something different, hoping that it will bring them out of the weird mood that they landed in. 

“We worked at the same summer job. Scoops Ahoy, the ice cream place that was in the mall before it burned down. The one with the really terrible sailor outfits.”

Julie winces. “I remember those. They were pretty bad. And Eddie, when did you become friends.”

“Spring break, during all of the craziness that happened.”

She nods her head, letting him ask a question about her before they just start talking. It’s weird but nice at the same time. They strangely get along well and the conversations, while slowing at some points, keep picking back up. It’s feels natural, like it’s not forced. 

But then five o’clock hits and she has to head back to the foster home. He offers to drive her, and she accepts, loading her bike into the back of the car. The car ride isn’t awkward, even if they don’t talk the whole time. It’s comfortable, it’s safe. 

In the short amount of time that she’s known Steve, she can tell that he’s safe to be around. It’s just the feeling she gets from him. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t surprising, but it’s not unwelcome. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Steve says, rustling in his trunk when he helps get out her bike. “I wanted to give you this,”

She takes the box. “A walkie-talkie?”

“Yeah. I use them to talk to the kids I look after and their range is like unbelievably far. So I figured you could use it to talk to me, if you wanted. Or to shoot a warning that you’re coming over. Just something.”

It’s weird, but she accepts it. “Ok, thanks.”

“Yeah no problem,” he shrugs. “I’ll see you around.”

. . . 

When Steve doesn't know how to feel about something, he tends to just not feel anything about it. Like this whole situation about his father, he doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

His father is a cheater and has been for pretty much Steve’s entire existence. There was no secret about that. He’s made his own opinions about that a long time ago, and just shuffled it all to the part of his mind that he doesn’t like to think about too much. Because it hurts too much to think about it all, so he’d rather not. 

But the truth about it was that Steve was used to how his dad was. He was used to the way he treated Steve. How there were barely any phone calls unless he did something that would affect his dad’s image. No birthday or holiday calls, barely even making an appearance during Christmas or Thanksgiving anymore. Just an empty house that was never really lived in enough to even have memories created, let alone any semblance of a life. 

It was just Steve, and he was fine with that. As long as he was the only person that got hurt. 

Even that logic was flawed as his mom has been hurt for years. But that was different, she was an adult. And even though Steve knows that there would be no way that his mom could leave without her reputation being ruined, she still has some responsibility for how he was treated. He never blamed her, but she wasn’t without blame. 

So Steve didn’t care that he was hurt, as long as he was the only child of Richard Harrington that was. And for the majority of his life, that was true. Except it wasn’t. 

And Steve had no idea how to feel about that. 

When Steve wakes up the day after Julie came over again, it’s like all of the hurt that he has tried so hard not to feel has come back to the surface. All of the hurt that he’s become numb to has festered enough to make his skin crawl again. The hurt that would make him want to act out and seek attention from people who never really cared about him, but he wanted them to. 

He stares at his ceiling, thinking about all of the times that he’s woken up just like this. Empty house, bare walls, not a soul other than himself to talk to. More mornings than anyone should have been able to experience. Where it happens enough that the numbers get so large there’s no point in counting them anymore. 

Steve knows that there are people out there that care about him. Knows that there are people that love him. His friends and the family he’s made through the past experiences of his life loved him and he loved them. But the fact that he had to make a family outside of his own just to be loved the way he wanted hurt. 

Parents are supposed to love their kids. At least that’s what it feels like. From what Steve’s observed through his friends and even in his job, families are supposed to love each other. Fathers are supposed to be there to play catch in the yard, moms are supposed to be there to provide a hug that cures all tears. They are supposed to be home, not shove their kids off on someone else. 

It took a long time for Steve to realize that his family was broken and he couldn’t fix it. That one more party wouldn’t get his dad to notice him, for his mom to come home. Making the team got him a phone call because it looked good on them, not because they were proud of him. Getting rejected from college hurt their image, so they cared. Their son refusing to get a job other than part-time at a video store hurt their image, so they cared. There was a scar on his neck that looked suspicious enough that it made people talk, even if it wasn’t true, but it hurt their image, so they cared. 

Not one time did they ever come to visit him during his many hospital stays. Not once did they even send a card. The birthday gifts stopped after the Beemer, and even then it was rare. They didn’t care about him, just what he could do for them. 

Steve was just so tired of acting how people who didn’t even really care about him wanted him to. So he wasn’t going to anymore. 

He gets up and ready, heading straight to his car without a second thought. Driving with a half-baked plan that is made out of a sense of rebellion and just generally wanting something. Steve wants something with someone for the first time in a long time, and he’s tired of holding himself back from it. Even if his dad would hate it, he’s stopped caring that he would. 

“Steve,” Eddie asks confused when he opens the door. “Everything ok?”

Steve nods, letting himself in. “Yep, everything’s fine. Great even.”

“You sure?” Eddie looks at him with a concerned face. “You seem really jittery.”

He is feeling a bit shaky but that’s not going to stop him. “I’m done doing things just because I think it will get my dad’s approval.”

“I thought you already were, but continue. This is good.”

“So I’m going to things that I want, even if I know my dad will hate it. I’m not going to hold myself back anymore.”

“Good, you shouldn’t.”

Steve walks up to him. “I’m going to do what I want, because I want it without thinking of what could happen if he finds out. He acts without thinking of me, why should I act with him in mind.”

“I really like where this is going, Steve, but you are still scaring me a little.”

He lightly grabs the sides of Eddie’s face, a shocked noise slipping out when he does so. “I’m going to do what I want to.”

Before Eddie gets the chance to say anything else, Steve kisses him. Harder than he should of but he doesn’t care. He’s wanted this for far longer than he’s realized and isn’t going to let that voice in the back of his head tell him that it’s wrong anymore. He already canceled their previous plans because of that, he isn’t going to do that again. 

After the shock, Eddie kisses him back, leaning into Steve’s touch and wrapping his arms around him, pulling Steve in closer. 

. . . 

Julie’s least favorite class is probably gym class. A bunch of kids wearing the same clothes, all of which have shorts that are way too short, playing some dumb sport that her teacher deemed important for them to learn. The only good part about the class is that it’s not co-ed, she can’t imagine the comments that would be made about her if the guys were in the class. 

But she has to do it, so she goes out to the gym, the cold air hitting her as she exits the locker room, clutching her middle and just begging it’s something easy today. She notices a girl in a wheelchair by the bleachers, another girl with short hair sitting next to her animately talking about something. It’s Max, Julie realizes. She hasn’t seen her in school since last year, or at all really. 

Not that they were ever really friends. They talked a few times, but never enough to form something real. And after a while, Max came outside in general less and less, always looking like something else was taking over her mind. Julie wanted to reach out and ask if she was ok, but never felt like it was her place to do so. 

And then something big over spring break happened that no one had a good explanation for, and Julie didn’t see Max again for a long time. 

“Do they really make you come to gym class if you can’t participate?” Julie asks, walking over to Max and her friend. 

Max’s eyes are slightly clouded over and she looks at Julie like she can tell that she’s there, but can’t see it. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.” Her friend leans over to tell Max who it is, a face of recognition forming. “Julie this is my friend Jane, she just moved back to Hawkins from California.”

“Nice to meet you. Odd to hear someone moving here instead of away.”

“We are happier here,” Jane supplies, speaking with certainty in her voice. 

“I thought you moved too. I haven’t heard anyone drive to your trailer in a few weeks. Thought you might have gotten out of that shit-hole.”

Julie clams up, debating whether or not to tell her. But she’d rather not get emotional in the middle of gym class. “I moved to a place on Cherry Street, that’s probably why.” 

Their conversation is cut short when the teacher calls everyone to the center of the gym to go over the rules. Her mind is everywhere but the gym. Racing thoughts of what could have happened to Max to cause her to be in a wheelchair and possibly blinded, from what she could tell. Only landing at the same spot all of her thoughts seem to end up for the last few weeks. 

She thought that maybe there would be a time when she could think of her mom without almost breaking down, but she couldn’t. It seems that every time someone mentions anything about her, all she can think about is the fact that she’s dead. That Julie is left alone without her mom, forever. 

All she wants is to remember her mom without crying for once. Think of the happy memories with that sadness old people seem to get when talking about their friends. A form of silent sadness that doesn’t cause her to want to rip her heart out. She seems to continuously wake up with sore, red eyes and a pain she has no way of stopping. 

. . . 

July 1986

A few different cars pull up in front of the Mayfield’s trailer, a bunch of kids around her age pouring out and going up the door. All of them cheering when it opens. She recognizes a few of them from her classes. They must have been Max’s friends. 

She hasn’t seen Max since spring break. The only answer that her mom could ever get from asking neighbors was that she was severely injured from the earthquakes and was hospitalized. For months, apparently. 

Max came home last week in a wheelchair. Some people had come over to help build a ramp to the trailer a few days before and showed up again when Max came home. She wanted to go over and say that she was happy to see her back, but it felt wrong for some reason. 

Julie doesn’t know a lot about earthquakes, but she knows that they don’t happen in the middle of America, let alone Indiana. And they don’t happen in the way that it happened here. The cracks in the ground weren’t on any fault lines, or near them at all. And for all of them to start from one location and hit city hall, wasn’t normal. 

Nothing that happened over spring break was normal. She had seen the same bunch of kids running around the trailer park a few days before the quake. And the string of murders that Eddie Munson was wrongfully accused of happened days before the quake. 

None of it made any sense, and Julie had no way of knowing what really happened. Some said this town was possessed by the devil, but that was evangelical Christian panic shit that claimed a board game was demonic. There was something wrong with Hawkins, and Julie wanted to know. But sometimes questions never get answered, and she had to accept that. 

Part 4

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17 @i-amthepizzaman

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #max mayfield #original female character #julie lawson #secret sibling au #stranger things fic #fanfic #steddie fic

[dootiexcupcake]

CW // angst , break up

Heeseung who recently broke up with you and now he’s just simply going through the motions of life in pure bitterness and anger.

Him seeing the date July 15th marked with annoyingly bright neon sharpie and crudely drawn hearts around that now cursed number.

‘I gotta fix that.’ He mumbles to himself, lips tight and his words slurred. What’s the point in putting in effort to say it properly? Who cares.

Heeseung so desperately wants to rip that adorable little puppy calendar off his wall and chuck the thing into the trash can and set it all on fire. Who even uses physical calendars these days anyway? The only reason why he got the sickeningly cute thing was because of y-

No.

There is no more you.

No more anniversary.

His shaky hands reach up to gently unpin the calendar off the wall. The bright and cheery marked box staring back at him mockingly.

His nose twitches in irritation. Frustration…grief ultimately. Though he loathes to admit it.

Sincerely hates having to admit to the fact that he’s taking this way harder than you. So torn up that this whole relationship had so much significance to him, had such an unrelenting hold on him that it’s still refusing to let him go long after you both parted ways and will never see each other again. At least..not in the same way.

His grip on the calendar tightens and the big eyed golden retriever for the current month has its face crumpled and torn, the puppy’s innocent round eyes staring up at Heeseung now is folded over and misshapen by his actions. Heh kinda funny.

He looks so ridiculous right now, such a big dude standing alone in his room crushing this cute little calendar in his hands and shaking violently. But he doesn’t care.

He lets out a bitter chuckle. Who cares? He’s so sick of being angry. At this moment he doesn’t care about hiding his true feelings behind his anger. He wipes his runny nose with the back of his hand.

And he just lets the tears cascade down his face. Let his sobs ring out in the empty space. Allows the pent up sadness to rack through his body in whatever way it wants.

Heeseung so very much wants to stop feeling this way. He wants this to be the last time he cries over you. He just wants this to end so badly.

Main m.list | enha m.list

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enha #enha angst #enha x reader #enha x gn reader #heeseung angst #heeseung drabble #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #enhypen angst #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x gn reader #enhypen drabble #enhypen heeseung #enhypen headcanons

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Guess what I did last night, everyone? I performed stand-up in a club for the first time! I’d done five nights at pub open mics, which I can quickly summarize as:

- July 26: Go to a pub night with my brother, who’s been performing comedy for years. They have about eight scheduled comedians, plus a “lotto spot”, where literally anyone can put their name in a pitcher and they draw one out and that person can perform. The lotto is mostly used by comedians who aren’t on the bill, but turn up to watch, and throw their name in on the off chance that they’ll get stage time. It’s also sometimes used by new comedians who haven’t established themselves enough to get booked spots when they ask for them, but they can build up some cred by doing lotto spots. It is not generally used by random members of the audience, but it technically could be.

I wasn’t quite a completely random member of the audience. I’d been going to open mic comedy nights at a different pub, which ran every Thursday, for a few months. Just going to watch, but often enough so I had an idea of how they work and who performs at these things. And my brother’s been doing it for thirteen years, early in his career I used to go see him all the time. And I had written some stuff down, practiced saying it out loud a few times, thought maybe I’d try performing someday. But had no concrete plans to start at any specific time.

Then I went with my brother to a night at a different pub from the one where I normally went, he convinced me to put my name in the lotto, just to try, it probably won’t get picked. Obviously it did get picked. I think there were about ten names in that pitcher, I’m still not 100% convinced my name really did get picked, I think my brother might have told the comedians that this is his sister’s name, if they want to see his sister try comedy then just call that name out regardless of what paper is drawn. But I have no proof.

Anyway, I did it. I talked for about six minutes. I said the things I had written down and tried out in my bedroom. It was less terrifying than I’d expected. The crowd laughed quite a bit, but only because I’d said at the beginning that I have never done this before and didn’t expect my name to get picked so they were all being nice. But it was fun. It was a huge adrenaline rush. Afterward I got drunk with comedians.

- That was a Monday. Three days later, I go out to the regular pub open mic night that I’d been going to for ages on Thursdays. Turns out the guy who runs that night was at the other pub on Monday and saw me there. After the comedy show ends, he goes up to me at the bar and asks if I want to be on the bill in two weeks time. I say yes. Get very excited for my first time on an actual bill, not just going up with the lotto.

- August 10: I perform at the Thursday night. I’m incredibly nervous. I have spent two weeks refining my material, figuring I can do a better job if I actually properly write a set for a specific day, rather than just get up unexpectedly and say some stuff I’d only vaguely planned. It’s definitely better this way. It goes quite well.

- Some other day in late August: I go back to the Thursday comedy place just to watch. I put my name in the lotto, thinking there’s no way it’ll get called again, may as well just do that, but I’m just here to watch. My brother is hosting. He’s just had a breakup and is messing around with the crowd so much that it distracted me from doing any mental preparation. My name gets called from the lotto. I go up unexpectedly. I can’t remember most of what I was going to say. I panic and stutter a lot. It’s fucking horrible. I get off stage and want to hide under my bed forever. After, my brother tells me it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought. But still. Not great. I have just moved to the suburbs to housesit for a few months, making it hard to get downtown where the comedy venues are anyway, so I don’t go back for a while.

- Early October: I go back to the Thursday pub night, just to watch. It’s an exciting night and inspires me to try again. I go through the proper process this time, of going on their Facebook page to request a spot for the following Thursday. I get one.

- October 12: On this Thursday, I show up and try something slightly different. The previous nights, I had just told one story for six minutes. This time, I trim that story and add a separate bit at the beginning. I am, again, very nervous, with the fear that maybe I just happened to have only one funny story in me but can’t actually write good stuff generally so the other bit will fail.

It doesn’t. Both bits go great. This feels like my best one yet. I leave happy and excited and wanting to do it again. I go back on Facebook and request a spot at the other pub that runs on Monday nights for the next week. I get it.

I also email one a local comedy club. There are three comedy clubs in the city, and those are where the “proper comedy” happens. New and established comedians alike work out their material at pub nights like the Monday and Thursday ones, so that they can perform at clubs. At the club amateur nights, where no one gets paid but if you do enough of them then you’ll get noticed by the owners and maybe get to go on the pro nights, where people do get paid. Multiple people had told me I should sign up for a club amateur night, but I’d been too nervous until that point. Then, however, I send an email to the designated address requesting a spot in November (that’s how it works – you email the club on the fifteen of one month to see if they’ll give you a spot at any of the amateur Mondays the following month).

- October 23: I perform at the Monday night pub. Do the same two bits as before. They go okay. At this time I remember them, I’m not up there panicking and stuttering. They just don’t get as much from the crowd, and the more they go badly, the more I doubt myself and then don’t perform as well. Afterward, my brother tells me my stuff was good, and not to feel bad because the crowd didn’t laugh much at anyone who was on that night.

I am sufficiently demoralized to think maybe I won’t go back for a bit, at least not until December when I go back to living at my own place downtown and it’s easier to get to these places. However, this plan falls apart in November, when I receive an email telling me my request for a club spot has been granted, I can perform at the club’s amateur night on Monday, November 13. I am terrified.

- For about four days before the night of November 13, particularly all day at work on November 13: I am fucking terrified. Going to a club to perform material that didn’t go well last time.

- November 13: I arrive at the comedy club. See the sign that reminds me the audience has paid $10 to get in. None of the pub nights cost money for the audience. So this will be my first time performing to people who have paid money so if I’m terrible then I am personally wasting their money as well as their time. There is an actual stage (a very low one, but still). They turn out the lights and put a spotlight on the performer. They play entrance music and everything. It is much more intimidating than a pub night.

I’m on third. The host is a comedian I very much like, doing stuff that I think is funny, but the audience isn’t laughing. The first guy up is an established pro comedian whom I also like (and used to run a school wrestling team with him in 2015, actually, but that’s another story), he also doesn’t do great. I talk to my brother, who’s on later in the bill than I am. He warns me that this crowd seems quiet in general, so I shouldn’t feel bad if they don’t laugh much at me either, I should be mentally prepared for that. I pace around the back being very nervous.

- November 13: Guys it went so fucking well! I did my two bits, I remembered everything, I think I said it in all the right order and did it right. And it worked! They laughed! Afterward multiple came and told me I did well! I was not mentally prepared for how you can’t see the audience if you’re in a spotlight and they’re in the dark, that threw me off, also the light hurt my eyes a bit, but once I was used to it I realized that not seeing the audience is slightly easier. It was good! It was so good and I’m so happy.

I have to say thank you, again, to my Tumblr friends @my-excellent-bicycle, who listened to the stuff I'd recorded alone in bedroom early in the year and told me what was good in it, because the bit he said was good is what became the first bit I performed. The second bit I ran by @lastweeksshirttonight, who was also super kind and supportive and helpful with advice. And, you know, I never would have tried without having comedy Tumblr in general. I am still a bit high on the adrenaline of how exciting that was.

...I feel like I should clarify, again, that all I actually did was sign up for an amateur night and do six minutes. It was the bar area in the basement, not even the proper club room, which is upstairs. It was not particularly objectively impressive. But subjectively, I'm really fucking excited about it.

[jmrothwell]

red columbine (anxiety) — “can you hold my hand? please?” for Alex and anyone because of course

Julie’s feet dragged beneath her, her pace gradually slowing the further they walked, and they were quickly losing light. The city silhouetted before them by the setting sun behind it, no longer shining green as it had that afternoon. Even Toto, usually full of boundless energy, had worn himself out and let Luke carry him. The small animal typically didn’t find the stiff metal of Luke’s arms all that comfortable. 

It was testament to how much they had traveled today. The breaks became shorter and shorter as the day wore on.  Everyone excitedly pushed on now that their goal was in sight. 

However, over the past hour or so they appeared to be getting no closer. It left Alex to wonder just how massive this Emerald CIty must be. 

“Julie?” Reggie hesitantly stepped in her path to force her to stop. She was far too nice to push him out of her way though she easily could. “We should stop for now.”

“But it’s right there.” She said through a stifled yawn–her words bleeding together slightly–gesturing around Reggie’s shoulders. “We’re so close. It's right there.”

“I know, Julie, I know. But you and Toto and Alex need to sleep. It won’t do you any good meeting the Wizard if you’re too tired to even properly speak."

She swayed on her feet, Reggie’s hands hovered by her shoulders ready to catch her if she fell. Or at least cushion her if Luke or Alex couldn’t get there quick enough to catch her themselves since Reggie’s strength was unfortunately unpredictably unreliable. The three of them patiently waited where they were until Julie finally nodded. 

Like clockwork they all moved starting work on the jobs they’d all fallen into when it came to making camp. Julie cleared out an area big enough for them, Luke went to get Firewood while Reggie looked for something Julie and Toto could eat. Alex helped out where he could. 

Soon enough they’d eaten and Julie had fallen asleep, head resting on Reggie’s lap. His eyes darted between her and more fearfully to the small fire Luke tended to. Early on Reggie had avoided getting this close to the fire entirely but risked it more and more the closer to the Emerald city they had gotten. Drawn in by Julie's stories and songs.

“You know,” Luke said, and the curious tone alone was enough to force Alex’s heavy eyes to stay open. “If we’d pushed, we probably still could have made it to the city and at least found somewhere for Julie to have a proper bed to sleep on."

It's a thought that had crossed Alex's mind earlier but he was too much of a coward to say anything about. More than a little–if perhaps rather guiltily–grateful to have what could end up being their last night together like this. It's not that he didn't want the Wizard's help or to keep his friends from getting the help they so desperately wanted either. But, there was no way things wouldn't change after tomorrow.

And what if the Wizard didn’t agree to meet with them after all. Could he handle that sort of disappointment? Could Julie?

"Oh, guess I hadn’t thought of that." Reggie softly said, pulling Alex out of his thoughts, before letting out a bitter laugh with his next words “Then again, how could I?”

Luke hummed thoughtfully, and Alex kept his mouth shut. Another thing he couldn’t be brave enough to call either of them out on. Maybe he simply had less brains and heart than he thought he had before meeting the two of them. 

All thoughts he could wrestle with another time. For now, he would try to focus on getting at least one last good night’s sleep without having to worry. Secure in the knowledge Reggie and Luke would keep an eye out for all of them. 

As always, Alex found himself waking up earlier than he would have liked. Even if he had been resting easier these past weeks traveling with Julie, Reggie, and Luke, his fears never truly quieted. However, unlike every other morning, Julie was already up sitting and facing the Emerald City as it slowly began to shine with the rising sun. The fire had been put out and Luke and Reggie were missing. Probably off fetching food and walking Toto who was also not to be seen.

The excitement of yesterday was replaced by a nervous uneasy energy. Julie ate her breakfast in a silence that not even Luke or Reggie dared to break. And when they finally started on their journey again, she hesitated to follow the Scarecrow and Tinman. 

“You all right?” Alex asked

“It’s all going to change.” She said, staring at the city in front of them. “I’ve been so focused on getting home I didn’t stop to think about what I might be leaving behind.”

Alex briefly blinked at her. He wasn’t used to anyone openly expressing their fears with him. Let alone their fears matching up so well with his. So he struggled trying to figure out how to comfort her, searching for the right thing to say or do. 

Thankfully, Julie was better adept at asking for help than he was. “Can you hold my hand? Please? I need some help being brave.” 

Of course, Julie was equally adept at completely shattering his worldview in entirely unexpected ways. Him? Help her be brave?

For her, he’d try. 

“Absolutely.” He said, extending out a paw. The two of them soon followed the others, facing the uncertainty of their future together. 

#Alex Mercer #Julie Molina #Reggie Peters #Luke Patterson #Wizard of Oz AU #Julie and the Phantoms fanfiction #found family

[madhogthymaster]

Down The Cabbit Hole: The Weird World of Klonoa Literature - An Archive (Part 2)

[PART 1]

22 July 2022

As I slowly work my way towards Klonoa media completionism (pending), I find myself drawn to Dream Crusaders, a fan-made continuation to the cancelled Dream Traveller of Noctis Sol webcomic, written and illustrated by Esteban Girolami.

-

As you know, my opinions about that officially licensed material are overwhelmingly negative, nevertheless I am curious as to what this adventure may yield under a new direction and vision - which is automatically better than having neither direction nor vision at all.

-

To be perfectly blunt, there is absolutely no chance of redemption for that comic. It was a doomed enterprise the second Huepow showed up out of nowhere. Its mere existence is offensive. That said, I'm glad this "sequel" starts off with these two. I'm keenly aware of the hypocrisy.

-

Nightmare Klonoa's face game appears to be in top shape, which is swell since the original story did not give me any reason whatsoever to care about this doofus. I only now notice the cute detail of the Pac-Man's ghost hat.

-

Actually using loosely established lore from Lunatea's Veil to inform your narrative? Alright, Dream Crusaders, you have my attention.

-

Ah, I see. You are using your story as a thinly-veiled excuse to bring back iconic series antagonists for fan-service purposes. I can respect that. At least, you are providing something that your audience might want to see.

-

This is how you are choosing to characterize the Goddess Claire, eh? Go on.

-

Thou shalt not make Nightmare Klonoa likeable.

-

Hurray!

-

Honestly, that's a power move on the writer's part.

-

Excuse me? How dare you come at me with that expression!? I don't appreciate being specifically targeted!

-

Oh no, I love her.

-

As far as fanfictions go, this is giving me exactly the kind of inanity I would enjoy from the medium. It is not a good Klonoa story but it's clearly having fun with its dumb premise. Goddess Claire, in full anime super villain mode, is the unquestionable MVP.

-

I get the feeling this author does not particularly care about Guntz, which the only acceptable behaviour when it comes to Guntz.

-

"Oh don't mind me, I'm just going to Naruto pose in the background of this exposition panel."

-

Gasp! It's the bandana-wearing Moo! Legally distinct from the bandana-wearing Waddle Dee!

-

"I promise not to obliterate the elderly, metaphorically or otherwise."

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It's Trauma Bunny!

-

Ah, an appropriate pairing. Trash belong together, after all.

-

"Hyuck!"

-

Original Character. Do Not Steal.

-

I am a man of simple pleasures.

-

He looks just right.

-

Well, this is awkward.

-

As of this date, that was the last currently available page for Dream Crusaders. I am enjoying this fan-interpretation of a failed project quite a bit. It might be just a load of fan-service and entirely self-indulgent but it's the passionate, dedicated sort of fan-service driven fanfiction.

-

It is everything Noctis Sol was not: the exact opposite of a soulless, dull, visionless drivel, one that actually takes the time and care to properly write sufficiently-defined characters and consistent story beats. I will continue to read it in the future.

-

Conclusively, it's a fun read and the artwork is high quality, more professionally sequenced and framed than the *official* webcomic series. Unfortunately, you would have to go through that abomination in order to get to the good part.

---

With this dream firmly behind us, like a distant memory of childhood, it is time to burrow ourselves down, deeper and deeper, into the Cabbit Hole in order to unearth older, much more obscure materials. Next time, we enter the positively drizzling underworld of Klonoa's "scanlations" and any remaining miscellanea, thus finally bringing my archive up to speed. Stay drowsy, fellow Phantomilians.

[PART 3]

#archive #klonoa #fluffy boy literature #madhog thy master #down the cabbit hole #webcomic #comics #literature #bandai namco #dream crusaders

[piracytheorist]

Okay I gotta admit it, I logged in today just to check my notifications and messages because I was curious. Seems like cold turkey isn't something I can do, but I feel like I've found things to occupy the time I'm not spending on tumblr anymore, so I feel distancing myself from the site is possible. Not having the app on my phone anymore helps.

Anyway, I took a quick look on twitter today, and while I didn't see any sxf spoilers, I did see a post about a thematic week that I won't be able to take part in, not even as an audience, because it will be centered around stuff I haven't seen yet.

And damn me, I want to read further into the story so bad. It's been almost six full months since the last episode aired, and I'm finding myself wondering what is happening next based on the vague spoilers I've gotten. And there's at least three and a half more months left. I just know, I know it, that I will enjoy the story three times as much seeing it animated - and like, if I'm truly honest, my main drawback from manga reading isn't that it's not animated, or acted, or even coloured. It's that my way of reading it is not how it's intended to be read. Like, if I could have the chapters printed out for me, that would be ideal. Like:

Reading the story like this? Feeling the pages in my hands, seeing the wide and two-page panels in all their glory? Terrific. Perfect. 10/10.

Reading it like this? Having to scroll up and down for long panels, zoom in for small speech bubbles and out for wide panels, pixels getting distorted based on how zoomed in I am? No, thank you, immersion go bye bye. If I had a vertical monitor I probably could have worked it out, but I don't have a vertical monitor nor can I afford one right now.

And you'll tell me, well, a lot of further chapters are available in the next volumes. And I'll say, I'll probably work only for half of July, my contract ends after that, and in August I may need to move out to a different city so I won't even be able to get a steady job that won't work me to the bone. And I'm on a tight budget, so even the forty euros (being generous here, cause volume 10 isn't easily available to me yet so 10 euros for it is a generous offer) I would spend on the next four volumes are money I cannot afford right now. Plus, I know they don't reach to the current chapters so I would still have a ton of spoilers to avoid.

I don't know why I'm explaining all this lmao. I just feel like I don't want people to think I'm an anime snob. Because by god with every week I feel my resolve break. If I actually make it to October without having read one single manga chapter it will be a miracle. It's such a weird challenge I'm putting myself through, I don't even know if y'all can understand it. It's not like it's a challenge I can "win", or a challenge I can award myself for passing. Maybe a bit of venting can help, idk. It's not like I'm asking for recognition or pity or something, I am aware of how weird my choice may seem. I just had some feelings and thought, "well, fuck, what do I have my tumblr blog for".

Idk. I just feel like I love this story so much and in such a way that I also want to properly enjoy it. If I lived in Japan and spoke the language, you know I'd be running to whatever stores sell the magazine where the new chapters are posted in every two weeks and sit outside the very store and read the new chapter before even getting back home (wait, are individual chapters even printed out in Shonen Jump? I'm not sure I've understood the whole thing completely). But since that isn't happening, my choices are a) waiting for a long time and not interacting with fans, but enjoying the story animated, with colour, voice acting, soundtrack and on wide screen (and yeah yeah it's an adaptation not the original but listen it's a good adaptation and this is why it's drawn me in) and b) getting the full story and interacting with fans now but seeing the story in broken-down panels and messed up pixels, while having to fix the zoom-in and -out on every page. And I know me. I know choice a will make me immersed in the story, while choice b will just give me the details of the story. Maybe I am a snob after all, idk. I'm not making any effort to explain or apologize for myself. I'm just venting, lol. It's been weird and lonely and IT'S BEEN TOO LONG AND OCTOBER IS TOO FAR AWAY T_T

Anyway. Been doing good other than that. I will probably revert to logging out every day in order to try and keep my distance from the site, but coming back every other day or so. We'll see. I have a few messages to respond to (and a few more spoiler-free manga panels to react to! yay!) so I'll get to those today.

#nette speaks #wow that was a vent lol

[daintyduck99]

unconsciously showing displays of affection (ex. playing with their hair, rubbing their hand with their thumb) because it comes natural when with them is something so Rulie....

Julie isn't trying to steal extra affection from Reggie or anything like that. 

She isn't! 

Lately, she's just…realized how easy it is, with Reggie. Being around him. His affection is playful, and sweet, and she's drawn to it like a moth to the flame. 

Okay. Maybe she has a tiny crush. It's fine.

And it's not like he doesn't reciprocate or freely give his affection. She might feel guilty if…if he didn't use her as a pillow during songwriting sessions after she put her feet in his lap once. 

And that's just one example! So she's not stealing anything. They just. Do this now. 

She winds her arm around his waist or grabs his hand or hooks her chin over his shoulder and overplays acting all needy so it comes off like fake flirting.

He grins and plays with her hair and kisses her forehead and wraps his hands around her ankles when she uses him as a footrest. He calls her beautiful and angel and other silly names that are so over the top, they really shouldn't make her blush. 

He uses her as a pillow now during all of their songwriting sessions, and she bites back lyrics about green eyes. 

It's wonderful and awful but…it's what she has. So it's fine. Really. 

That's why, when he's put off leaving rehearsal to go to work for as long as he can, she pouts before Luke can protest.

"Aw, but I'll miss you." 

He brightens, bounding over to the piano. His soft smile makes her heart race. 

"I'll miss you too!" He cups her cheeks, and she leans into the touch, just like she always does when he kisses her forehead. 

She tries not to shiver when his thumb catches on the corner of her lips. 

He whispers, "But I really have to go." 

And he does kiss her tenderly. 

Square on the mouth. 

Her eyes flutter shut. She kisses him back. 

Then he's gone with a breathless bye, angel, and everyone else is staring at her with wide eyes, and that's when the adrenaline kicks in. 

She touches her lips with shaking hands. 

"Did he just…" 

"Kiss you?" Flynn finishes wryly. "Yeah." 

Julie stands. She sways. 

"I have to…" 

But everything fades to black before she can get the words out. 

When she wakes, she's on the couch with her friends hovering over her, sans the one she really wants to see. She tries to sit, but Luke gently pushes her back into the cushions with a whoa, cowgirl that makes her scrunch her nose at him. He grins. 

"We know you want to go after him, Jules, but you almost ate concrete just now. If it wasn't for Alex, you probably would've. I had no idea he could book it like that." 

"It's the anxiety," he deadpans, but he softens when his attention shifts to Julie. He pats her knee. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks, Alex. For everything." Julie bites her lip. "Do you think he meant to do that?"

Several people snort, but it's Bobby who replies.

"Did Reggie mean to kiss you? Absolutely. Has he realized how he did it? Probably not. You guys are just. Like that."

"Yeah, there's been a betting pool running as to whether you guys were already together," Willie adds cheerfully. 

"What?!" 

Flynn squeezes her wrist. "Y'all do act like one of those super mushy couples, minus most of the kissing. Until today." 

"Aw, man," Luke whines, "that means Bobby won. Julie! I had so much faith in you! I really thought you were playing us."

Bobby reaches around Flynn to flick Luke's ear. "I told you, dumbass. They're both too hopeless to make a move properly." 

This, of course, devolves into the two of them wrestling all over the floor, and it's a little unfair that there's no betting pool for them, but Julie has bigger things to worry about. She sighs at the ceiling. 

Willie nudges her. "Hey, don't sweat it. I'll drive you over there if you're up to it." 

She throws her arms around him before anyone can stop her. He laughs as she says he's the best, but she means it. 

Especially because he makes good on his promise, and she waves as he drives away, heart hammering against her ribs. 

She strides into the shop. 

"Hi!" Reggie calls brightly as the bell chimes, not quite looking over his shoulder enough to see her as he finishes whatever he was doing. "What can I get you?" 

She leans on the counter, feeling only a little silly. "Something sweet?"

"Julie!" He spins around, giving her a broad grin, and she flushes. She can't stop staring at his mouth, especially as he adds, "Couldn't get enough of me, huh?" 

"Something like that." Her voice sounds…throaty, even to her own ears, and her pulse spikes again as his lips part. 

"Oh, well—I could take a break? Maybe nab you a chocolate muffin, they're really good, totally what you're looking for—" 

She huffs a laugh as she meets his eyes.

"That's okay. You're sweet enough." 

He blinks. His cheeks are the prettiest shade of pink as he stammers. 

Julie quiets him by placing her finger on his lips. "Just. Meet me outside?" 

He nods, then watches her go with wide eyes. She hears what sounds like one of his coworkers urging him to go after her and has to giggle to herself. 

Maybe Bobby was sort of right. 

Reggie follows her around the corner, curling towards her instinctively.

"So—" He swallows as she tilts her face. She presses her body against his, and his free hand finds her waist. "What's—" 

She puts her hand on the nape of his neck and coaxes him right down into a kiss. 

He melts the second their mouths meet, kissing her just as tenderly as he had before. She sighs, inviting him to deepen it, and he does. He cradles her head and clutches her hip and it's so sweet and so thorough that she might swoon again. 

It's certainly one hell of a sugar high. 

"That's," she breathes, and he laughs quietly, chasing her lips for another, shorter kiss. She nuzzles his jaw. "You kissed me like that without even realizing when you left and I…I want you to kiss me like that on purpose. I really like you, Reggie." 

He hums, pressing his lips to her forehead in that lingering way he always does, spreading warmth from her head to her toes.

"I really like you, too, sweetheart. Sorry to just—kiss you out of the blue like that. You're right, I didn't even realize. You're so lovely, and so easy to—well—I was on autopilot, and it just—happened."

"It's okay. I got you back." She smiles. "And no one fainted this time." 

"What?!?" 

Julie just laughs and kisses him again.

#fluffy crush prompts #rulie #reggie x julie #ficlets with ash #yes I was thinking about the way owen had to book it to be with everyone else at the end of stand tall #julie and the phantoms

[scotianostra]

On July 5th 1560 The Treaty of Edinburgh is agreed between England and France bringing to an end the siege by English troops of French forces occupying Leith. (some places say July 6th I will come to that later)

During the 1550’s, France controlled Scotland. The infant Queen Mary was in France preparing to marry Francis, the French prince. Her French mother, Mary of Guise, ran Scotland in her absence.

The small but powerful band of Protestant Scottish noblemen, called the Lords of the Congregation, resented France’s power over Scotland. With the support of England, they rebelled. In February, the Treaty of Berwick was signed, which led to English troops entering Scotland. And in June, the Catholic Mary of Guise, mother of Mary, Queen of Scots, and co-Regent of Scotland, died.

It is said that Elizabeth I didn’t like the idea of helping subjects revolt against their ruler, but neither did she like the influence that France had in Scotland. So in 1560, she decided to send English troops to Scotland to fight the French. The treaty has been claimed as a turning-point in Anglo-Scottish relations.

And so it was with the Regent, Marie de Guise dead the the French had lost their figurehead, so with the assent of the Scottish Lords of the Congregation, the Commissioners of Queen Elizabeth I and French representatives in Scotland agreed to formally conclude the Siege of Leith, abolish the ‘Auld Alliance’ between France and Scotland, establish a new Anglo Scottish accord, and maintain the peace between England and France that had been agreed by the Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis. Also included in the Treaty was the agreement for Mary, Queen of Scots, and her husband, the French King François II, to give up Mary’s claim to the English crown and to recognise Elizabeth I as rightful Queen of England. Although Mary never agreed to this herself.

The reason for the confusion on the date is the terms of the treaty were drawn up on the 5th of July by representatives of the three countries, It was concluded on the following day, the 6th of July, 1560. Nobody asked Mary, Queen of Scots, if that would be okay, this was the beginning of the end for the Scottish Queen as the Protestant Lords began to assert their authority on Scotland. While some of them were confirmed Protestants that couldn’t see past their religious fervour, others were just chancers who saw an opportunity to claim power for themselves.

After the Treaty was signed, the French and English armies left Scotland and left the Scottish Protestant nobles in charge – properly delighted with themselves. Later, in August, the ‘Reformation Parliament’ of 1560 met and ratified the acts that would establish the Protestant Kirk in Scotland. It prohibited the practise of the Latin Mass in Scotland and denied the authority of the Pope, in effect implementing the Reformation across Scotland. The zealot John Knox was one of the leading figures during the rebellion against Mary of Guise and French Catholic control of Scotland. The signing of the Treaty and the removal of the French enabled him to return from Europe to lead the fight to make Scotland Protestant. Ultimately, he and his Calvinist successors succeeded.

On the 5th of December, 1560, the eighteen years old Mary, Queen of Scots, was widowed and, as Charles IX had no real incentive to support her, she was increasingly isolated in France. The French also had more to do with their own affairs after the outbreak of the Wars of Religion. And so, on the 19th of August, 1561, Mary had little choice but to accept an invitation to return to Protestant Scotland as Queen.

Now, don’t forget, the Treaty of Edinburgh had not been ratified by Mary, Queen of Scots. She was the reigning monarch and it needed her ratification, but as somebody might have said, “Ach weel, it was lackin’ only a signature and hersel’ still a wee bit lassie, just.” Mary was put under considerable pressure to ratify the Treaty, but she had no intention of so doing. She viewed the Lords of the Congregation as rebels and traitors against herself and her mother, Mary of Guise. Another reason for not ratifying the treaty was because it officially declared Elizabeth I Queen of England, effectively ending Mary’s claim to that throne. When all was said and done, Mary had to accept the terms of the Treaty, but she never signed.

The pic shows the Siege of Leith map, 1560. The colour original is in the archive of Petworth House, Sussex. Copies are displayed in South Leith Parish Church and Huntly House Museum, Edinburgh.

#scotland #scottish #england #france #history #treaty

[reinabeestudio]

The Fairytale Special (WH AU)

Last week or so I made a document explaining about that Welcome Home AU of mine you have seen me post from time to time (The Fairytale Special). It even explains why it's got such a goddamn long name!!

I updated it recently, so you can read it there (google docs)

Or you can read it here! Under the cut! (kinda long tho)

(^^^^ this was drawn in a magma with other people)

Summary

Sort of a "falling in love with your bodyguard" story, but set in a more fairytale-ish setting? This AU is rather simple compared to others. It doesn't have a well-written, complex concept you may have seen from other artists.

By the way the title, The Fairytale Special, isn’t meant to be pretentious (I swear my ego isn’t that big): it’s not special, it’s a special! It’s meant to be seen kinda like a TV special for Welcome Home! Everyone is still The Silly(™) deep down.

Whaddahell this is self-insert

Yes, I guess it is! The main topic is Wally Darling/The Guard (nickname for my sona in this AU lol). There's also a bit of Howdy Pillar/Eden Mawnten (my Welcome Home OC)

But if you know me, y’know romance is not all there is! I just self-indulged a bit, but I try to make this AU approachable to anyone that might be interested! (Fr I don’t bite)

Ok but what’s the actual goddamn story!!!!!!

Set in a Home that it’s divided in Houses (yes, they’re called the Houses of Home).

There's a celebration for the ruler of a neighbouring kingdom, Queen Eden and Lord Pillar’s engagement in the caterpillar’s land. Obviously everyone has been invited— including Lord Darling! After learning that the most powerful leader in Home would attend their celebration alone, Queen Eden decides to send her personal escort to keep Lord Darling safe: The Guard.

Imagine a road movie but there are horses instead (?)

What else?

I guess I can share some bits of trivia (。・∀・)ノ

The Houses are named after gemstones! Wally’s is called House of Sapphire :]

Some others are House of Spinel (Julie) and House of Chalcedone (Howdy)

Eden’s kingdom is an island!

Home is a mansion in this Special. It even has its own personal library (Wally likes to use it. He’s fallen asleep there more than once)

It was called The Fantasy Special at first, but there aren’t really that many fantasy elements so I changed it. Sometimes I keep calling it that on accident tho

I keep making Wally a bit of a bookworm on accident. Eager to learn?

Tbh I’m still figuring some stuff out, but let it be known not all the classic neighbors (Welcome Home cast) are House leaders

The Special is in written form (so like, a fic). I’ll share it on my personal website only. Yeah, not even gonna post it here (unless I change my mind). Sorry, too nervous lol

I use 🍎👑 when I talk about Wally/Neighbor (Wally/Guard in this case). But sometimes I use 🔖🍎 when I talk about Lord Darling himself (that’s a bookmark emoji!)

Neat I guess, anything more to say?

Ah, I guess we gotta talk boundaries now. I’m aware that my AU isn’t known, but better safe than sorry. It seems mandatory to be clear when it comes to these in this community! So much bitterness lately… let’s work to put it behind. That said, worry not.

Interactions! Feel free to draw your OC in this AU— just remember to credit me :]

If you make fanart/write/etc for it you are obligated by law to tell me (@ me!)

If you wanna do self-insert with this Special, go and be free my friend. True that there are confirmed(?) pairs in this case, but I’m aware how fun these can be! I won’t deny you of that harmless fun

That said, if you don’t like self-shipping and/or prefer canonxcanon, I… don’t think you’ll have a good time with this? Besides the fact that it’s literally a self-insert AU, this Special is mostly for the oc/canon enjoyers out there (platonic, romantic or anything else)

I don’t think this AU has horror elements? But feel free to do these if you wish. Just remember to TW properly!

Regarding NSFW (of the explicit kind, not horror): as long as you are an adult and tag it properly with the official tag (#/PlayfellowXXX), I’m fine with it! Or you can send it to me directly if you want

⚠ However, I don't want any of that weirdo shit near me (inc3st, p3dophilia, wallyc3st/applec3st, you know what I mean).

Can I leave now

Before you go: Lord Darling has a Character AI! (No one asked for it but I made it anyway)

If you talk to him, I’d love to be see it. Mostly outta curiosity but also to configure him better (rizz him up if you want I don’t mind lol I doubt there’s anyone that wants to do that, but it has been stated)

Have fun. Thanks for your company!

#welcome home #welcome home au #my art #wally darling #The Fairytale Special AU #my writing #-- sort of! #for the lil wallys at the start #Incredible! I'm alive! A miracle #btw both the doc and this post include the link to Lord Darling's c. ai so ASKJDAK #the reveal of my terrible handwriting... the pain

[sacrificethemtothesquid]

Cut for random holiday-related blather.

My family is a cult, and I mean that is the nicest way possible. We’re like a cultural amoeba or some medieval royal house. My sister and I didn’t join our spouses’ families, the spouses joined ours. 

Amid a slew of smaller holidays, Christmas is the culmination of the entire year, the time when everyone returns to the mothership (ie my grandparents’ house) for a good meal and some well-wrapped presents. When you think of a stereotypical 1950s Coca-Cola-advertisement Christmas, that’s my family, frozen in time. It is an entirely secular event, although if someone is feeling a pang of religious guilt, they might say grace before dinner. That being said, there are two traditions that are completely sacrosanct, and cannot under any circumstances including death or natural disaster be skipped: Stockings, and [Grandpa Squid]’s Favorite. 

Upon marrying into the family, you are presented with The Stocking, a gorgeous item handmade by your future mother-in-law with your name embroidered on the top. (If you’re born into the family, you get yours at birth.) Names are drawn Secret-Santa fashion around Thanksgiving, and the contents are generally intended to be inexpensive and practical (post-it notes, pens, toothpaste, etc), useful (small toolkits, garden gloves) or edible (candy), but it absolutely must have a mandarin orange in the toe. All stockings must be under the tree by Christmas morning. You cannot cannot under any circumstance admit to filling a stocking, or be caught in the act of filling one; Santa fills the stockings. Santa has always filled the stockings.

The other tradition is [Grandpa Squid]’s Favorite, a custard-filled cardamon bread that is served on Christmas morning. (If it had another name, it was lost three generations back when Grandpa was little. It is, as the name implies, his favorite.) You start learning to make it as a small child so that when you are eventually released out into the world like a salmon fry heading for the deep ocean, in the tragic event you cannot make it home on December 25th, you are capable of properly marking the day on your own. You may make [Grandpa Squid]’s Favorite for other people, but you may not under any circumstances share the recipe.

This year, things felt particularly important. Dad was in the hospital for Christmas last year and things were disrupted to the point I don’t think he or Mom even got stockings. We all kept thinking he’d be released in a couple more days, just a couple more days, and we thought that right through January and February until he died. When we got together in July for Grandpa’s birthday, no one felt like decorating or doing more than making potato salad. It was depressing and sad and I swore that Christmas was not going to be the same.

Cut to last week. I’m not really a great baker, so I’ve been deconstructing the recipe for [Grandpa Squid]’s Favorite over the years so the vague instructions on my photocopy of Great-Grandma’s spidery handwriting make some scientific sense, and this year, I got hung up on butter. There’s a part where you repeatedly spread the butter and fold the dough, which doesn’t really make any sense. It doesn’t form layers like a croissant. It just seeps into the dough and makes it a bit slimy to work with. Maybe it had a purpose three generations ago, but it’s just one of the steps now, followed because That’s How It’s Done. 

So many of the things my family does are just because That’s How It’s Done and this year, I’ve busted my ass all month trying to make sure that everything that needs to Happen actually Happens. I did all the stockings this year because we didn’t get together at Thanksgiving. I spent all last week baking, cooking, and making [Grandpa Squid]’s Favorite because I was afraid if I didn’t, everything would completely collapse and we absolutely could not have anything collapse. 

Where am I going with this? I don’t know. Maybe I need a space to brag. Everything was a rousing success. The presents were beautiful, the food delicious - okay, the gingerbread was overbaked - and everyone was happy. Nothing fell apart. I worked hard and succeeded. I’m tired, but very very satisfied. 

I think maybe my point is that I’m at a place in my life where I want everything to be intentional. It has to be. I’m almost 36. Husbandthing is 40. We don’t have kids. My dad is gone and our elders are aging. If we want a tradition to continue, if we want to take something with us, it has to be a deliberate choice. One of my new year’s resolutions is to expand that to the rest of my life. I don’t think I’m having a third-life crisis (too old for quarter-life, too young for mid-life) but everything feels a little dramatic and stifling and I’m thinking some intentionality will make things more manageable. 

Maybe next year, I’ll skip the step with the butter.

#random blather