#*runs to add to blacklist*

[bat-bytes-back]

Postal dude painting dump

so anyways we practiced painting digitally for the past 3 days and guess what

all the paintings are of POSTAL DUUUUUUDE (Postal 2 spesifically)

(text reads: would you sign my petition? /w rizz)

(text reads: will you sign my ... my petition now?)

these were the first ones we made LMAO

I really hate some areas in these paintings but hey we were just tryin’ digital painting here so... what can ya do

so anyways NEXTTT

how do you draw sunglasses at that angle? how do you paint eyes? how do you draw lips at the correct angle? All questions we had making this one! please tell me how pleaseIbeg

NEXT

this is the one we’re the most proud of. it looks kinda muddy but we like that. we like that a LOT. the only gripe we have with it is that the cigarette is poorly done and blends in with the background so much I bet you didn’t even notice there was a cigarette the first time you saw it!

btw, a lot more art coming up because we’ve been sitting on posting art just incase we wanted to make big posts like this one

[zemnarihah]

i literally NEED to get my nostrils pierced but like i have this thing where i want all my piercings to be symmetrical so im like well i cant get them one at a time but also i know its a pretty painful piercing and it hurts more to get two at once and also the healing could be hard bc i sleep on my side so one side will always be getting bumped but it will bug me literally so much if i only have one side done augh

[izzyizumi]

{Blog Info} The Beginning Spoiler Tags

Anyway, reminder I'll be using: #The Beginning Spoilers (when re-blogging) #TheBeginningSpoilers or #The Beginning Spoiler (Sometimes also when making an original post) Previous spoiler tags used include #Kizuna Spoilers #Tri Spoilers #Bokura no Mirai Spoilers #Our Future Spoilers #Kyousei Spoilers {Tri Pt. 5}, #Soushitsu Spoilers {Pt. 4}; #Kokuhaku Spoilers {Pt. 3}, #Ketsui Spoilers {Pt. 2}, and I don't always tag Saikai anymore (reminder this has always been an overall spoiler-free blog for older series, especially everything pre DigiAdv 2020, Ghost Game and Survive) but if it's concerning big plot points and meta, #Saikai Spoilers may also be used. #DigiAdv 2020 Spoilers is still being used for more spoilery DigiAdv 2020 meta and discussion, but also may not always be used depending if I can fit in tags or not (as the tag limit is 30 tags).

Questions about my blogs' upcoming experience with anything related to The Beginning under the 'read more'.

Which version are you seeing? It depends if I can even make it to the showing, but I'm NOT seeing the U.S. dub version tomorrow, and instead would be seeing the sub on the 9th IF AND ONLY IF it actually works out reminder I am Disabled and sometimes get chronic pain flareups, so we'll see what happens on the day of.

Are you planning to review it? Probably not. I'm not the type to make full-on reviews... If anything I will likely just reblog related stuff, and even that may not happen for a couple weeks still, as I have to build the blog queue back up. I almost have half a mind by now to refund my ticket{s} me and someone bought but its already the day before and I'm not sure I can. At the least my theater here might be pretty empty, so we'll see. It's not necessarily that I don't want to see it on a personal level (I very much do), but I'm going to be honest about my overall opinion once it's out.

Can I ask you your opinion on something {to do with the series}? As long as you understand I am not open to full-on "debating" about it (OR the typical timeline debates; or U.S. dub-vs-sub semantics) and as long as my opinion can be generally respected, catch me when my Ask box is open. Asks here should generally be kept specific to this fan base and this fan base only. {Also, more specifically, Adventure{s}-related franchise as a whole. Yes, I know 'Adventures' is not an official title and I do not need to be told that, it's for tags organization and clarifications' sake when I talk about the whole franchise.} (Just clearing this up now in case, since I'm not sure what the state of things is going to look like after tomorrow.)

[hatefulbutterfly]

i had a dream last night that had an A and B plot that kinda overlapped… my memory is a little foggy but i’ll do my best

———

A Plot:

a guy who looked kinda like CG5 and a lady both were running and climbing through a play structure at a park, scrambling to get to some kind of bunker.

the bunker was dark and had dim windows and a large section of the floor was this weird almost portal-like pool(?) of green substance.

CG5 turned to the lady and explained that the reason he had to hide was because “the aliens [were] onto [him]”. just as he said that, they both had to duck down as several UFOs flew past the windows.

A Plot kinda left on a cliffhanger.

——

B Plot:

a small group of people- a cat(maybe?), a lady, and a guy who looked like Adam Sandler -were making their way through a strange shopping mall. for some reason, the geometry of the building appeared in my dream in the form of blurry emerald walls and very cramped walkways.

there were a few different shops they went into, one being some kind of convenience store/fishing store combo thing, and another being a clothing store- both of which being separated by elevators between each floor.

at one point while they were in the clothing store, Adam Sandler kinda wandered off, leaving the lady and cat/person/thing really irritated and anxious because they needed to hurry (they apparently were also being hunted by aliens).

Adam Sandler eventually returned to them both wearing a pink shirt and a baseball cap he got while he was wandering around.

the group went back through the fishing store into an elevator that also looked like the entrance(???), and as the lady was pressing the buttons, Adam Sandler says, “Y’know, I’ve always been a big fan of Barbie. It’s why I got this shirt. If they had a pink Barbie AK-47 and a bottle cap, I would buy those too. Well, maybe the first part is too far…”

the lady and the cat just glared at him, and that’s when i woke up.

———

(also i think my brain got the “Adam Sandler in a pink shirt” thing from this post)

[mrsjellymunson]

Hello, Stranger

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader, Eddie Munson x you, Eddie Munson x reader

For @lesservillain’s excellent Strange and Spooky Stories Halloween writing event for the prompt: ‘Stranger’

Summary: A stranger comes in to buy weird stuff at odd times, and as the cashier at the local hardware store you’re not quite sure what to make of it…

CW: 18+ (MDNI), fluff, maybe SFW though caution for mature and dark themes and allusions to crime and violence. Flirting, li’l bit of awkwardness, some swearing. Both Eddie and reader are in their 20s. Reader’s gender and appearance are not described, they can be whatever you want. No use of y/n. Time period is not mentioned, and any inaccuracies/inconsistencies about history, equipment, American schooling (I’m not from around these parts) or science are deliberate and artistic oh yes they are. No smut, I thought I’d better assess whether I could string a semi-coherent story together before attempting to add that 😆

WC: ~6.2k

A/N: I love gore, revenge movies, murder shows, true crime, science/biology/forensics and DIY (sort of), so this prompt seemed like a perfect fit. There are tiny Easter eggs from The Equalizer, Breaking Bad, 80s crime TV, The Blacklist and John Wick in here - let me know if you spot any! This is the first ‘proper’ fic I’ve posted so I’d love to know what you think. Comments, reblogs and feedback are hugely appreciated and very welcome!

(Also this is my first attempt at dividers too, I hope they worked, I literally have no idea what I’m doing!)

Yep, you were ‘that’ weird kid. Your friends in Middle School had called you a freak because you brought squirrel tails and chicken feet to show’n’tell.

“But look! If you pull this tendon it makes the claw close! Isn’t that cool?!”

No, apparently that was not cool. Especially when demonstrated against your teacher’s finger...

You’d visit a friend whose father was a doctor, begging to read his medical and pathology text books, and preferring to look at pictures of dissected and diseased organs and spontaneous human combustion over braiding your friend’s hair or talking about boys.

And, apparently, scoring a class-topping 9.5/10 for your rat dissection also wasn’t the social merit badge you thought it might be, even amongst your science-abreast academic peers.

So what if you had a strong constitution. And a love of anatomy and pathology. And then compounded it with a love of true crime, particularly serial killers and forensic methods. Surely there were worse things to be interested in?

By the time you’d finished High School you’d learned to mask your enthusiasm, covering your (apparently, socially unacceptable) fascination for all things ‘gross’ and ‘murderous’ (your friends’ words) by choosing science majors like human anatomy and pathology, criminal behaviour and forensics.

People just thought you were clever, nerdy, a scientist. You never let on that you were itching to actually experience some of these things for yourself, in real time, with your own hands…

You work the evening shift at the sprawling out-of-town homewares store on the road running out of Indianapolis towards a tiny town you’ve never been to (Hawksville? Hawking?). You work a few evenings a week plus alternate Sundays, currently in the gardening, kitchen and hardware department. It wouldn’t be your chosen section of the store (in the short time you’ve been there you’ve had to amass a lot of knowledge about tools. Also, how to politely deflect the regulars’ offers to share details of their new projects, lest you get drawn in to a half-hour discussion about u-bends or rawl plugs), but the hours suit you and fit around your college classes, and the employee discount comes in handy when things in your shitty apartment break down or your roommate carelessly breaks something, again.

The final few hours of your shifts were usually pretty quiet, barring the occasional domestic plumbing emergency, or a bored Hawkins housewife coming in looking for batteries.

You don’t mind spending your evenings amongst the tools and machinery, it gives you a chance to flick through the latest copy of forensic magazine or True Crime, or work on your college assignments.

One thing that does make the slow evenings more entertaining is the unusual clientele. A nerdy-looking guy with a moustache needing releasable cable ties, cooking oil and a large plastic sheet at 9.30pm must have an interesting backstory, right?

You find yourself concocting fantastical vignettes about the oddballs that pass through, giving them the most amusing or disturbing story you can think of as they glide by in the night.

The guy with the cable ties? Too easy. Clearly he’s got a ‘special friend’ and an interesting evening planned. TBH, that’s probably not even fictional. You call him Salacious Scott.

The friendly, rotund lady who regularly comes in for for buckets and sawdust? You know it’s Mrs Henderson, who is trying to go self-sufficient and has recently installed a composting toilet, but you prefer to imagine she’s actually a madam with a ‘specialist interest’ playroom, who you brand Madame Urolagnia.

The paranoid guy with a beard and thick glasses who won’t tell you his name, buys a lot of vodka from the liquor store nearby and comes in for plastic pipe, cladding and those slot-together foam mats for kids? He tells you he’s into martial arts and these make safe weapon facsimiles for training, but you reckon he’s actually some kind of government agent. Your imaginary name for him is Mysterious Murray.

One oddball in particular has caught your attention, and not just because he’s easily the handsomest customer you’ve had in a while.

Wait, no, you didn’t just admit that; you just find him interesting, that’s all.

It was his speed and demeanour that had struck you first, rushing in, hand atop the bandana on his head, gangly legs in ripped jeans looking like they were trying to run in two different directions at once, large, dark eyes wide as he’d frantically looked around the store.

“Uh, rope, I need rope, where’d you keep the rope?”

You’d blurted some instructions and he’d headed off, not looking in your direction.

His leather jacket and swinging chains certainly commanded attention amongst the flannel and blue denim that was usually in your line of sight, and you’d found your eyes following him, catching sight of him moving between the aisles from your position behind the counter.

He’d moved towards you with a sturdy knife, a shovel and 3 rolls of duct tape that he’d collected on his way to the checkout, arms full (he didn’t pick up a basket), when you’d ventured,

“I’d recommend the next brand up, if you want something stronger with better sticking power? It costs a little more, but it’s better quality, so overall you’ll use less”, (silently thanking Mr Wheeler’s recent diatribe on the merits and pitfalls of various brands of adhesive tape, remembering the detail because he’d gone so far as to demonstrate by sticking small pieces of it to your skin. It was a weird interaction for sure, but also oddly informative).

He’d lifted his head to look at you and your eyes had connected for the first time. Your eyes widened, and you think you spotted a slight twitch of a smile at one side of his mouth.

Oh, he’s actually really cute.

“Uh, okay, if you think that’s best”.

He dropped his eyes from yours and, after unceremoniously dumping everything else onto your counter, he’d exchanged the rolls and returned.

You’d both paused, you don’t know for how long, and you’d wondered how someone buying rope could be so captivating. But the spell was broken as you’d both spoke simultaneously:

“Did you find everything you need?”

“I’m kinda in a rush, so…”

You’d both chuckled nervously, and you’d set about ringing up his purchases, noticing that a small smile definitely now graced those previously harried features.

He’d paid with a handful of old, crumpled bills pulled from his jacket, politely declining your offer of a bag, and then he was gone as quick as he came, hurrying out into the night with the swish of the automatic doors and a breeze of parking lot-scented night air.

You didn’t know why anyone would need rope and a shovel at that time on a weeknight, but with this particular guy, who you dubbed The Stranger, you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind finding out.

You’d unintentionally spent the rest of that evening coming up with fantasies about that particular customer, although, unusually for you, quite a few of them hadn’t actually involved what was on his receipt…

When The Stranger next comes in he’s after heavyweight garbage bags, more tape and a saw, but seems in slightly less of a rush.

He pauses at your counter for a few moments, making polite conversation, asking how long you’d been working here, whether you were working late tonight.

Is he trying to… flirt? Surely not…

“Thanks for the tape recommendation by the way, it was a real lifesaver. That stuff’s really good, I definitely have a new favourite!”, gracing you with a broad grin (oh fuck, that was a sight) before he was on his way again.

Another time he bought shears, tarp and a large quantity of painting coveralls.

The next trip involved wire cutters, buckets and a wet’n’dry vacuum.

You begin to enjoy The Stranger coming in buying random shit at odd hours. You can’t quite make him out. He buys a lot of gardening and decorating-type equipment (plus he’s almost single-handedly keeping the cleaning product aisle in business), but he dresses like neither - always in tight, ripped jeans, shredded band tees and his signature leather jacket. You’ve never seen him covered in leaves or dirt, and his clothes have zero paint on them. Those coveralls must do a really good job…

You build up a rapport of sorts with him. There’s always a polite, verging on friendly greeting between you, and you let him know when there’s special offers on tarp and garbage bags, and what days there are deliveries of latex gloves and those painting coveralls he seems to like so much. (Sometimes you’ll even stash a few of the latter for him under the counter if there’s a holiday weekend coming up, knowing Hawkins’ husbands will be out in force and not wanting him to miss out.)

But the ‘fantasy vignette’ and forensically-inclined parts of your brain begin to overlap, and start to tickle your imagination. It’s almost as if each selection of items he buys could be used to either dispatch someone, or dispose of a body. But that’s crazy, right? He seems way too nice to be a serial killer. And mob activity in this part of Indiana? Nah. That wouldn’t happen around here.

Would it?

It’s a quiet Friday night when you next see The Stranger. He’s picked up bolt cutters, pliers, some metal trays, a sledgehammer, a mop, and, most bizarrely of all because you’ve noticed he’s not usually one for personal safety equipment, ear defenders.

Again, he’s basket-less, barely able to contain the items piled up in his arms. They topple as he arrives at your counter, and some end up partially covering your open magazine.

“Shit, I’m really sorry about that.”

“Oh, no problem, honestly. I probably shouldn’t be reading on the clock anyway”, you say, slightly bashful, as you move the crumpled magazine out from underneath his items, smoothing it down. The Stranger’s eyes are locked on your hands, and as they move across the page they reveal a headline about a recently apprehended serial murderer and some photographs of a variety of grisly-looking, bloody weapons.

“That looks… interesting, watcha reading there?”, he remarks, leaning in.

“Oh, this? It’s about a new guy they’ve just caught over in Europe. He’s fascinating, he used such a variety of tools and methods that at first the police didn’t even think to link the crimes. Ingenious, really, when you think about it. So creative!”

You look up, and The Stranger is regarding you with an unreadable expression. Does he think you’re weird, babbling on about this murderer like you admire him? Or is he actually impressed with your enthusiasm?

“Sorry, I’m a true crime buff, it’s a bit of a pet topic of mine. And I’m studying forensics at college, so it’s kind of like schoolwork too.” You chuckle nervously, arms moving in front of your body and shoulders subtly curling in on yourself in embarrassment.

The Stranger seems to sense your discomfort, and shakes his head, making his curls bounce, smiling and chuckling along with you.

“No, yeah, uh, me too with the crime thing, actually. Well, not so much the reading, I’m more of a hear-it-through-the grapevine, hands on kinda guy.”

‘Hands on’? WTF does that mean?

“Oh, cool, coolcoolcool”. Smooth…

As you scan his items your fantasy vignette tickles your brain again.

No, don’t be silly…

You bag everything up this time, insisting it’ll be easier to carry, handing them to him and taking his crumpled bills.

Your curiosity is more than piqued and you can’t hold it in any longer. Feeling bold, you ask, “So, what’s all this for?”

“Huh?”

“The- the stuff. What’re you doin’ with it?”

The Stranger looks at you through his lashes, not speaking.

Shit, you’ve overstepped, he’s gonna leave, find a different store and you’ll never see him again.

“Uh, well, some people I know out near the big city are, er, planning a, uh, party, with a few of their, um, associates, and I think it’s gonna get pretty loud, hence the earphones. I, uh, don’t usually get involved in stuff until later in the evening, y’know, after all the main fun’s over.”

You look a little quizzical.

He thinks for a moment.

“I tidy up, but I sorta make it a bit more fun for everyone. Bring a bit of pizazz to a usually mundane part of the evening. Kinda thing.”

You process for a few moments. The ‘Mob Cleaner’ vignette you’d fantasised about screams loud and long into your cerebrum.

Nerves give way to curiosity, and you brashly ask, “So, what exactly is it that you do?”

“I’m kind of a cleaner, I guess? If someone has a problem that they’ve had dealt with and they wanna make the cleanup more, um, interesting, I’m the guy they call.”

Probing further, you clarify, “So you don’t make the, uh, mess, you just clean it up. Creatively?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

He explains he’s still quite new to the job, and kinda fell into it. His boss and his mentor are both encouraging, saying his USP is truly original (Unique Selling Point, he explains when you look confused), and that he definitely ‘has potential’. He’s learning a lot as he goes, but his enthusiasm seems to be appreciated and he wants to do well.

“All you really need is a strong stomach, imagination and a flair for the dramatic!”

He illustrates his last point by making jazz hands by the sides of his head, offering you a generous smile. Yeah, you can see how that particular part of the job comes easy to him.

“Oh, well, it sounds like fun. I hope you have a very successful evening!”

“Okay, well, thanks again! I’ll see you.”

You watch him leave, noticing in particular how well his jeans fit tonight.

What’s that saying again - I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave…?

You shake your head to rid yourself of the lewd - and crazy, yeah, totally crazy - thoughts you’re having about The Stranger and encourage yourself back into work mode.

As you busy yourself and tidy your counter you notice something small and white on the floor in front, about the size of a credit card. It must’ve fallen out of his jacket as he fumbled for cash.

Cash. Always cash. Never credit card, never cheque, never — anything traceable…

You round the counter and pick it up, thinking you’d save it and return it to him the next time he comes in. It’s a business card. The text is unfussy and clear, but glossy, bold and slightly gothic. It’s a company name above some text and a pager number, but it may well be the most intriguing piece of writing that you’ve ever come across:

E.M. Creative Disposal Services, Apprentice to Mr Kaplan & Associates, For dinner reservations call: (555)-666-6969

It’s another quiet night, but there’s already a couple of people at the counter when The Stranger arrives. Mr Sinclair needs a pipe wrench and a plunger (you don’t envy him his evening), and Mrs Wheeler has come in to buy double-As for the second time this month (although this time she also added gardening gloves and secateurs to pad out her basket. Not that you’d judge either way).

You spot The Stranger’s curls before anything else, bobbing in the fluorescent lights as he comes through the entrance doors. He spots the queue and immediately joins it, glancing towards the counter and visibly brightening when he sees you behind it. He’s carrying the sledgehammer he bought last time. As you start to ring up Mrs Wheeler’s batteries you see him examining the head of the hammer. Frowning slightly, he moistens his thumb with his tongue and rubs at one corner, then polishes the same spot on the front of his jeans.

He reaches the counter, receipt retrieved from a bundle pulled from inside his jacket.

You greet each other with a quiet ‘hey’. He continues, “I, uh, wanted to return this. Can I do that?”

“Yeah, sure, lemme ring it through the till. Can I ask why? Company policy,” you shrug, almost apologetically.

“Sure, uh, well you know that phase ‘using a sledgehammer to crack a nut‘? Turns out a sledgehammer does indeed obliterate the, uh, nuts… Let’s just say it wasn’t really suitable for the project I had in mind. I think I need something…”

Lighter? Easier to aim?

“With a little more finesse?” You venture, eyebrows raised, hoping you haven’t completely misread things.

“Yeah, finesse! I like that”. He beams widely at you tilting his head slightly, revealing the most gorgeous dimples you’ve ever seen, and it’s all you can do to hold on to the edge of the counter while your knees gently fail beneath you.

“Umm, you want some help choosing?”

He readily agrees and you direct him to the hammer section, both of you discussing the merits and disadvantages of various models as you choose ones from the display and encourage him to feel their weight and balance. He seems impressed, clearly not expecting you to be so well-versed in the finer aspects of hardware.

“Y’know, you really know your tools!”

You squeak out a bashful, “Thanks.”

You slip into self-deprecating mode and brush off his compliment, saying, “It comes with the territory I guess. I’ve picked up a lot working here. Plus I just sometimes browse the shelves, thinking of nefarious uses for random household objects.” Hurriedly adding, “For school, of course!”

You cringe a bit, thinking this must make you look like some kind of weirdo, but The Stranger takes it easily in his stride, commenting, “You know, you’d be surprised to learn just how much of a marketable skill that can be.”

You chat some more and he eventually chooses a smaller, less unwieldy hammer, and after he pays you part ways again.

You still desperately want to ask him exactly what he used that other hammer for, what ‘Creative Disposal Services’ actually means, and what the hell have dinner reservations got to do with any of this?

The next night you see The Stranger he saunters in at about 8:30. He has a different energy about him this evening, seeming both more relaxed but also somewhat on edge. He’s not in his usual ratty band tee tonight, you notice, and no leather jacket either. Instead he’s wearing a what looks to be a clean, maybe even pressed, electric blue raglan shirt with black half length sleeves. You spot a crimson guitar pick necklace that you’ve not seen before dangling from a twinkling silver ball chain, resting against his sternum and resplendent against the blue.

Observing his forearms for the first time you notice how attractive - and (oh!) tattooed - they are. Toned and veined, their shape and his mix of tattoos are shown off to perfection by that sleeve length, and a leather and chain bracelet that adorns one powerful-looking wrist. The glint of his chunky silver rings accentuates his large hands that peek out of his jeans pockets as he wanders over to you. He’s still in tight black jeans, but they seem a little… neater than usual. And he’s not in a rush. It’s almost like he’s not working, maybe even making an effort.

You feel a frisson of excitement - could it be that he’s come in just to see you?

Exhibit A, m’lud: Scrubbing up well.

He heads straight for your counter, and you greet each other with your characteristic friendliness.

He spies the hefty text books you’ve spread before you, and leans onto the counter to get a closer look.

“Watcha workin’ on tonight, Doctor Quincy?”

You swallow at the cute nickname, voice cracking slightly as you start to tell him about the assignment you’ve got. It’s about evidential tool marks, and how pathologists can identify what’s been used as a weapon or tool of dismemberment.

The Stranger tries to play down his interest, but his demeanour betrays him as he presses for more details, even asking if he could maybe read the finished piece.

That’s weird, right? People don’t read other people’s science essays for fun. Do they?

But you agree, promising to bring him a copy when it’s done.

The conversation lulls, and The Stranger twists the pad of one of his thumbs against the counter, seemingly a little nervous, though you can’t imagine what about.

To break the silence you slip into work mode, but for some reason drop your voice a couple of octaves and murmur,

“So anyway, what is it that can I help you with, sir?”

Wait, is he blushing?

“Um, oh, uh, I actually don’t have a shopping list today, I was, uh, just gonna browse, I guess.”

He backs away from your counter, giving it a few rhythmic slaps with his fingertips before turning away from you and ambling off into the store. He returns a few moments later with a small hatchet and mid-range fold-out knife, plus two rolls of his now-favourite tape.

“You can never have too many of these, amirite?”

He gives you that dimpled smile again, and you feel your stomach do a full (though anatomically impossible) 360° flip.

Observing his lack of focus and comparatively small selection of items, you wonder if he really needs those things, or whether he’s just picking them up as an excuse to come in to the store. Your chest heats up a little at the thought.

Exhibit B: Small, possibly unnecessary purchase. The evidence is mounting up.

Seeing the hatchet, your eyes light up with enthusiasm as you remember something.

“Hey, we just got some new stock in that I think you might like, y’know, if I’m not overstepping or anything.” You finish with a nervous chuckle.

You smile at him nervously through your lashes, skin heating even more in case this is suddenly all a bit too familiar.

He grins, responding, “Sure, go ahead!”

Your smile broadens and relaxes as you turn away from him and walk to the back shelves, crouching down and retrieving something in your arms.

Standing quickly and turning, you notice his eyes widen and immediately flick up to yours, a slightly alarmed expression on his face.

Exhibit C: Was he checking you out when he thought you wouldn’t notice? (Also, is it getting hot in here?)

With a loud thunk you lay two (frankly, terrifying-looking) multi-tools out on the counter in front of him. One looks like an oversized, overspec-ed Swiss Army knife, and the other could easily pass as a prop from an exorcism-themed horror movie. You over-excitedly explain the features of each, saying, “This one has a hammer and an axe, plus screwdrivers, pliers, a saw, wire cutters, a magnesium rod”, you look up at him quickly and ask, “do you ever need to start fires? Plus, it has…”, you wave your hand dramatically over your favourite part of the item, like you were showing it off on a shopping channel, and stretch out the syllables of the final two words for emphasis, “…a bottle opener…”. You raise your eyebrows and grin widely, like this must surely be the deal breaker.

The Stranger laughs, throwing his head back with deep-throated barks from the centre of his chest, and then he chuckles a little, bringing a strand of hair over his cheek and a curled finger to his lips. You’re slightly distracted by that glimpse of his extended neck (god, you want to gnaw at it), and that laugh? You wish you could’ve recorded it somehow.

You quickly compose yourself and continue, switching to the ’horror prop’ product, “And this one has fewer features, but I like it for its simplicity, robustness and practical charm. It’s an axe, hammer, nail puller and pry bar. And it even has a rubber coated handle, so you can still use it safely even if your hands are wet. For, y’know, whatever reason…” you finish, slightly abashed.

“Aw, Pumpkin, this is the kindest thing anyone’s done for me in a while, thank you.”

Pumpkin. PumpkinPumpkinPumpkin. Exhibit D: A term of endearment!

He takes some time to examine both articles, testing out their various features, hefting them in his (large, strong) hands (stop it!).

“I love them. Y’know what, I can’t decide. I’ll take both. What’s the damage?”

You visibly brighten, a squeak of delight that you hope he didn’t hear inadvertently leaving you as you puff up with both his term of endearment and your ever-growing customer service confidence.

You check whether he’d still like the other items he’d brought to the counter, and apart from the duct tape (“You really can’t have too much of this stuff!”), he allows you to reshelve the rest.

He watches, enthralled, as you wrap his new tools in the store-issue brown paper reverently and carefully, as though you were wrapping an expensive gift in a fancy department store, the pair of you sharing bashful looks and half smiles as you work.

As he hands over the now-unsurprising crumpled bills and takes his change his hand drifts closer to yours, glancing his fingers over your palm and lingering for just a moment. There’s a little hitch in your inhale, and you think you see his ears redden a little.

He gathers up his purchases in his arms carefully and gently, and he backs away from your counter slowly.

“I guess I’ll head out then. Uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, I guess you will, uhh-”

“Eddie. My name’s Eddie.”

“Okay, I guess so, Eddie.” You say his name slowly, like you’re testing out the syllables in your mouth.

You continue speaking, offering your name in reciprocation.

“Yeah, yeah I know your name, it’s kinda on your little badge there.” A tiny nod indicates the plastic rectangle pinned on your apron strap near your left shoulder.

Your cheeks heat again. “Right, of course. Ha!” You inwardly cringe. Well, that could’ve gone better.

He’s still backing away, getting dangerously close to an intricately balanced display of colourful children’s watering cans. You’re about to say something, but he turns just in time, ambling towards the illuminated exit with a mumbled, “Okay, bye then. Thanks again for these…” lifting the packages in his arms, and turning to look over his shoulder a couple more times before he finally reaches the door and disappears into the parking lot.

“Hey, d’you know anything about wood chippers?”

It’s been a week since you’ve seen The Stranger Eddie, and you turn abruptly to find him walking towards your counter.

His question throws you out of your stocktaking zone (you’d been focussing on ordering enough plastic pumpkin-shaped buckets for all of Hawkins’ kids this Halloween), but you quickly slip into customer service mode and ask for more details.

Eddie explains, using mostly his arms, that he needs one that, “throws everything everywhere”. You finally work out that he means the type where you feed stuff into a hopper on one side and the shredded debris is forced out of a raised chute on the other (as opposed to the more gravity-based ones where stuff is fed into the top and simply falls out the bottom).

He’s passing it off as being involved in some avant garde student art project, a performance piece involving feeding a load of wood and, uh, paint, yeah, paint into a wood chipper and having it spray out the other side. He blusters that the students are trying to make a point about climate change, or maybe it’s deforestation, he can’t seem to decide.

He explains that the piece is to be performed indoors, that there’ll be quite a few people present, and that he also needs a large quantity of tarp and coveralls because it was likely to make a huge mess.

This is the clincher. You’re absolutely convinced there is no art project, and what’s go through that chipper is more likely to be a human body. Or, given the amount of effort being gone to, and Eddie’s flair for theatrics, probably more than one.

“What size branches?”

He looks at you, confused. “Huh?”

“The, uh, limbs. What size will you be shredding? Some of the smaller models won’t cope with thick trunks.”

He swallows. His eyes meet yours, and he licks his lips. You can’t help but stare at those full, pink… Look away! Just look away!!

He subtly smirks, slowly moves his hands across the counter, and, gently taking hold of one of your hands in his, loops his other finger and thumb around your wrist.

“Um, definitely thicker than this…” - he extends your arm towards him, and moves his other hand slowly up your skin until he gets to your upper arm - “…and maybe a little thicker than this, too.”

You hope he can’t feel the burning sensation that’s erupted up your arm. You know he can’t possibly hear your racing heartbeat or detect the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins, but you’re acutely aware of both just the same. You briefly ponder whether you’ll need to get a fire extinguisher from aisle 7.

“Umm, how about I show you what we’ve got?”

Composing yourself, barely, you take him to the large garden implements section, explaining that for larger trunks and limbs he may need something towable.

Under the guise of working out whether various models would be suitable, you take the opportunity to dig a little and find out what kind of vehicle he drives. It’s a van, so roomy, practical for carrying a lot of equipment that needs to be kept out of sight. Well, this all tracks.

Also, your brain helpfully suggests, it could potentially be romantic, a private little hideaway where you and he could… No! Stay on topic, you’re at work for god’s sake!

As you debate the various choices you find you’re occasionally leaning into each other, shoulders and elbows lightly bumping, you stealing glances at his chiselled jawline when you think he isn’t looking.

Eddie eventually decides on a mid-size towable model, and as you arrange for it to be delivered to the collection bay he bids you goodnight and disappears out to his van.

‘Art project’, huh? I don’t think so…

You don’t see Eddie for a couple of weeks after that, and you begin to wonder whether he doesn’t like you. Maybe you went too far, did you bore him? Did you frighten him off? Did he feel pressured into buying those gadgets or the expensive wood chipper?

Maybe he’s finally realised you’re a weirdo, like everyone at school eventually did?

Trying to get out of your funk you steel yourself and ask your department manager, Keith, whether he’d seen an odd, metal-looking guy in the store at all.

“Nah, not recently, but someone like that did come in a few weeks back, asking about when you’d be working. Something about your product knowledge helping him with a job, or whatever. I told him your schedule, I hope that’s ok.”

So you haven’t missed him, and maybe he’s not avoiding you. Good, that’s good. Exhibit E: He’s been asking about you?? Oh fu-

You’re startled out of your reverie by the sound of someone slapping two plastic packets down onto the counter.

“Oh, hi Mrs Wheeler, let me ring those up for you…”

On his next visit it’s clear Eddie is restocking his cleaning supplies, and he’s even deigned to use a small trolley this time to transport the heavy and bulky items.

As well as multi-surface cleaner, mops, cloths and some heavy duty gloves, you notice his trolley also contains numerous bottles of chlorine bleach.

“Big clean-up job tonight, huh?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I guess so. I need to leave the place without any trace of the, uh, performance this time.”

“Depends what you need to clean up, I guess. Y’know, chlorine bleach doesn’t necessarily get rid of everything.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, it’s fascinating, common misconception by the way. Chlorine bleach gets rid of visible stains, so that’s great if your main concern is aesthetics. But you can still detect haemoglobin, if you have access to the right tools and solutions.”

Eddie looks bath engaged and confused.

“A-heema-whatnow?”

You snicker.

“Haemo-, y’know what, never mind. Blood, basically. So actually, oxygen bleach is your best bet if your biggest concern removing all traces of, let’s say, blood and DNA. Whilst it doesn’t necessarily remove all the marks, it does degrade everything biological to the point where it’s undetectable. At least, with the tests we currently have.”

Eddie leans his elbows on the counter, giving you his full attention, resting his cheeks on his knuckles and pushing his dimpled grin up even further. Emboldened, you talk at length about haemoglobin, DNA degradation, specialist chemical solutions and alternative light sources.

He stays there, rapt, until you come to a natural stop. Just before he straightens up he quietly mumbles, still smiling, “Fucking incredible”.

With a deep breath he returns to the aisles to procure both types of bleach, pays and heads out into the night with a cheery, “Wish me luck!”

The cleanup must’ve gone well, because Eddie’s back a few days later and is making conversation.

“Hey, um, I remember reading once about some guy in England, years ago, who, like, melted people. You ever heard of that?”

You contemplate for a moment.

“Oh, d’you mean the Acid Bath Murderer, John Haigh?”

“Acid bath? Yeah, that sounds familiar.”

“Y’know, that’s actually one of my favourite case studies! It was one of the stories that first got me interested in true crime. 1940s England, dude thought he could get away with it if there was no body. Nope, sorry! When I first heard about it I thought it was really inventive, though he actually took the idea from a French guy who’d already done similar. Makes you wonder how many undiscovered dissolved bodies there might’ve been before and since, huh?”

You wax lyrical for a little while on the relative merits and disadvantages of the dissolving of human bodies in acid, even relating an anecdote about how your lab partner once chose the wrong combination of acid and beaker type, finishing with, “Hoo-boy, that was a mess!”

You become a little awkward, aware of how long you’ve been talking and the possibly-disturbingly-creepy level of detail you’ve gone into, though Eddie doesn’t seem to mind and presents somewhat like he’s paying attention in a chem class. Regardless, you decide to change the subject.

“I meant to ask last time, how did that wood chipping project go?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, really good, thanks. Y’know that advice you gave me about the chipper came in real handy. It was quite the show!” He looks gleefully at you, flashing that brilliant smile. A few small fireworks quietly explode in your innards.

“I’m so glad! Did the client like it?”

“Oh yeah, baby, they were thrilled!”

Baby. That’s new. You like it, and you add it to your growing mental filing system labelled ‘Evidence that Eddie might like me’. You can’t even remember what letter you’re up to now, you’re just enjoying stuffing it fuller every time he graces you with another morsel.

“They even gave me a nice bonus, for my ‘theatricality’.” He begins to lift his arms, but stops himself, resisting doing the jazz hands things again, reasoning there’s only so many times he can do an impersonation of a court jester before it puts someone off. “Said they’re gonna recommend me to their buddies too.”

More softly, and a little bashful, looking through his lashes he adds, “Kinda wish you could’ve been there, actually.”

Oh my, is he blushing again?

“Yeah, me too. I’d love to see you work sometime…”

“You would?”

Okay, he’s definitely blushing.

He leans in over your counter, close, so he can say in a low voice,

“Uh, just so we’re on the same page, you know what I do has nothing to do with art projects, right?”

Holding his gaze, and with your voice surprisingly steady, you swallow before confirming, “Yes, Eddie. I know.”

He huffs out a stuttering breath, and the air between you seems to heat.

He lifts one hand and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Hey listen, uh, I dunno if this is a little too forward, or weird, or y’know, whatever,” He’s rambling now. It’s adorable.

“I was kinda gonna ask you if you wanted to get milkshakes sometime, but, uh, maybe you’d actually wanna come out on a job with me? I’ve got one coming up on Sunday that I could really use an extra pair of hands on. I could pay you of course, y’know, for your time.”

You want to blurt out that, for him, you’d willingly burn the world and everyone in it for free. Instead, you smile wide, and settle for,

“Well, my tutors are always encouraging us to get real world experience…”

“Great, so I’ll pick you up at the end of your shift?”

“Sure, Eddie. I’ll look forward to it.”

You’re both grinning, stuttering messes.

“Great! Great. Uh, okay then, I guess I’ll see you Sunday?”

As he turns to leave, you stop him with one final question.

“Just one more thing Eddie. Should I bring my own coveralls..?”

If you got this far, thanks so much for reading!!

Comments and reblogs make my world spin, do let me know what you think.

[mangled-wires]

I wanted to wait until

just the right moment to drop in!!

I am Mangle also known as Vee! This is a mogai blog for your pronoun, title, and name needs wire speaks in the third person and hopes you will not refer to glitch as human!

You may refer to mangle as the wired one or the sweetheart in wires and (uses he, they, glitch, and wire)

Say please and thank you while requesting it makes the mangled happy!!

the mangle only does names, pronouns and titles!

BLACKLIST/ WHITELIST + GRAYLIST

Good omens, fnaf, danganronpa, undertale, yandere sim, project Sekai, enstars, cookie run ovenbreak + kingdom, Sanrio, Omori, murder drones, the amazing digital circus and more just ask!

GRAYLIST

panty and stocking, welcome home, peppers playhouse + more..

BLACKLIST

DSMP, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, NSFW, uncredited fanart, genshin impact, Milgram, I Love Amy, Identity V,

Could the mangled sweetheart ask for a promo? just tell the sweetheart to be deleted!

@plushbunnies , @mizukolai , @zinkminisplat , @liminalmindscape , @landmineangel , @landmineexplosiongirl , @bunsel , @buntress, @thehauntedcemetery , @thehelloverlord , @blessedfangs , @kassgender , @jirai-doll , @scythidol , @essthereal

(the mangled one is too lazy to add more..)

[indestructibleheart]

Hi, fam! Okay, so I'm going to be out at an appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm kicking this off a little bit early. It's technically Wednesday in several timezones and very nearly Wednesday in mine. I'm... also a bit eager to share this, ngl.

I know that I've shared a lot of angst lately, but I swear that's not all I'm doing. 😅 In fact, the actor/playwright AU decided to wallop me in the face out of nowhere after sitting in my WIP folder for months. I'm really excited about it, so I'm gonna share the first scene!

(Also, those of you who have been to New York with me will recognize my favorite brunch spot in this scene lmao.)

---

You probably didn't even know I was in the room, but I noticed you straight away. You were talking with your friends, happy and animated and fully alive—a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access—and so beautiful. Your hair was longer then. You were the center of attention, but you weren’t afraid. You had a yellow ipê-amarelo in your pocket. I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen; I'd better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

INT. MOM'S KITCHEN & BAR - HELL'S KITCHEN - LATE MORNING

"I'm telling y'all," Alex is saying, punctuating with dangerously large bites of his pancake burrito. "The dude's a dick." 

It's been two hours since the nightmare audition, but Alex has been on this tirade since June and Nora first slid into the retro diner chairs across from him (at least forty-five minutes ago).

They're at Mom's: a restaurant-bar in midtown that can only be described as millennial nostalgia incarnate. The trio fell in love with it two years back—post-karaoke, stumbling in right before closing—when Alex saw God in their Fruity Pebble pancakes.  Since then, it's been his favorite place to eat his feelings.

Mom's is just really fucking comforting in general, honestly; whether it's the televisions cycling through episodes of 'Rugrats,' 'Dexter's Laboratory,' and 'Hey, Arnold!' or  the rainbow straws and Lisa-Frank-looking menus, Alex can't be sure. It doesn't hurt that they've made friends with several of the waitstaff, including an eccentric bartender, Pez, whose pink hair and painted nails fit right in with the decor. 

Today, it's the combination of breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs and cheese wrapped up in a syrup-soaked pancake that's really doing something for him. It could also be the margarita the size of his face, which Pez placed in front of him before making himself uncharacteristically scarce. But it's fine. He's probably just busy.

Alex won't admit it out loud, but what really helps is having June and Nora here to talk to… even though Nora is scrolling on her phone.

"I'm sorry," June says. She pokes an ice cube with her straw, and Alex watches as it bobs around her mimosa like a buoy. "That sounds like it sucked, but if he's really that rude… maybe you didn't want to work with him anyway."

Nora doesn't look up as she pops a home fry into her mouth. 

"Several sources say he's difficult to work with," she adds, evidently reading about Henry on the internet. "Though, in his defense, his dad did just die, like, three years ago… and there was that whole thing when he came out after. Remember?"

Alex does remember. Henry's grandmother, Mary Mountchristen, runs a pretty major company that used to own half the theatres on the West End. When Henry came out last year, she tried blacklisting his shows from her properties to punish him—which totally backfired when it got around. At least a dozen other queer writers and producers started talking about how they were also denied the space, and Mary was stoned on the streets of the theatre district. Like, metaphorically. 

Alex, Nora, and June had just moved to New York, but between June's position at Newsday and both Alex and Nora on the audition circuit, it was all anyone in their new circles could talk about. They were some of the first to know when the Mountchristens were bought out of their properties and Henry moved to the States.

This show is the first of Henry's being produced here—and it's autobiographical, which Alex has to admit is pretty fucking baller. So, yeah, Nora's not wrong. He has reason to be standoffish. Still, it doesn't explain why Alex was only halfway through his audition monologue when Henry abruptly stood up and exited stage left as if pursued by a bear.

He shoves another forkful into his mouth. "It's just, like, they're the only people who let me into the room," he says, barely finishing chewing. "Nobody wants to take me seriously, and I really thought this was my shot, you know?"

June and Nora both know Alex is having a hard time landing serious roles after growing up on a sitcom—Nora more than most, as his former co-star. What they don't know is that losing this role, specifically, feels like a kick to the stomach. From the moment Alex saw the script, he wanted to be a part of it. He can't even explain why, and now he'll never figure it out. Henry wouldn't give him a chance.

"It wasn't your only shot, and you know it." Nora fixes him with a look. "Seriously, I get it—I do—but it's just one play, buddy."

June nods. "Something will happen for you, baby brother."

At that, Alex finally groans. "Okay, calling me baby brother doesn't help me feel better about the entertainment industry infantili—"

"—itty bitty, teeny weeny—"

Alex throws a home fry at her face. 

It bounces off her forehead and into the giant gauntlet holding her mimosa with a very unappetizing splash. Just as Alex throws his hands into the air with a victorious whoop, his phone buzzes on the table. 

A glance is all it takes for him to see that it's his agent, Zahra.

"Damn," he says, deflating. There goes that upswing. "You answer it."

June balks. "Me?"

"I don't need to hear how fucking badly it went. Trust me, I got the message." Alex blinks innocently, like he's six years old again, asking her to lie to their mom about that broken vase. "Please, Bug? Besides, Zahra actually likes you."

"Everyone likes me." June rolls her eyes, but she caves—answering the phone with a haughty, "Alex Claremont-Diaz's office," before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, Z. It's me… No, Alex is feeling a little sensitive today."

(He throws another home fry at her. This one misses.)

To her credit, June's face remains totally blank as Zahra no doubt tells her how Alex insulted Henry Fox's name and all of his inbred ancestors just by showing up, or whatever—which is extremely annoying and unhelpful—but, once she says goodbye and sets the phone back down on the table, her face breaks out into a grin.

"Guess you didn't suck too bad," she says. "They want you for the part."

He doesn't know if it's Nora throwing herself at him or the shock that knocks him onto the floor.

Tagging some lovelies. If you haven't been tagged and you want to be, consider this your tag!

@anchoredarchangel, @barbiediaz, @cha-melodius, @cricketnationrise, @guillermosfamiliar, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @hippolotamus, @inexplicablymine, @jettestar, @junebugclaremontdiaz, @kiwiana-writes, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @missgeevious, @mulderscully, @myheartalivewrites, @ninzied, @nontoxic-writes, @notspecialbabe, @priincebutt, @rmd-writes, @rosedavid, @three-drink-amy, @treluna4, @vanillahigh00, @welcometololaland, @orchidscript, @ships-to-sail, @stereopticons

[thefoolau]

🎪The Fool — a Welcome Home AU!🎭

ㅤㅤPeople are cruel, everyone knows that; and sometimes, a "Home" can be where others like you are.

ㅤㅤBut nice things never last, do they...?

ㅤㅤAfter being discriminated & ostracized by society for as long as they can remember thanks to Kastor's influence, Wally alongside Barnaby go out to find other puppets like them in order to create a circus, where they all started performing together. ㅤㅤHowever, this all came to an abrupt end when Kastor cursed the whole city, making all of them forget everything about the circus out of spite and jealousy; all except Wally, who now has to carry with the burden of remembering, while all of her friends don't.

. . . AU info below !

！﹘Index ,

Boundaries

Characters

Story

Misc

1. ﹕ Boundaries ,

💧 What is ok?

Fan art, edits, cosplays, fanfics, anything creative!

Platonic OC x Canon, Zeze is aroace!

Character interactions of any kind!  In any medium!  I’d love to see them!

Memes or things alike!

Hurt/comfort, angst

Fanon AUs of the AU

Edits! All of this, as long as you tag/ credit me of course!

💧 What is not ok?

Selling mass produced merchandise.

Sexual interactions, both explicit and not explicit.

Romantic OC x Canon, again, aroace!  Not open to relationships!

Anything related to crushes/ atraction to masc/ male characters, not even as a joke. Zeze's a lesbian!

Redesigns, recolors, tracing, etc. without my permission.

Gore, body horror Please respect these boundaries, if not you will be blocked and blacklisted.

2. ﹕ Characters ,

🎭 ; Wally Darling, the trapeze artist!

ㅤ

🌺 ; Julie Joyful, the acrobat!

ㅤ

⭐ ; Sally Starlet, the acrobat!

ㅤ

🃏 ; Kastor (K.W.), the wizard! (antagonist)

the others don't have a reference yet, I'll add them once I make them!

3. ﹕ Story ,

ㅤㅤNo one ever liked them. None of them. They were considered weird, ugly; Dangerous. So they sticked together, supported each other, and thus formed a small family.

ㅤㅤAll of them had Something, were something others didn't like. Wally was too flexible; Barnaby was too big; Eddie was too strong, and all of them were monsters made out of felt to their eyes. They were easy to judge, so people took advantage of that.

ㅤㅤIt all started when Wally found Barnaby in an alley, abandoned and beaten up. They talked, and soon became friends; that's when they had the idea to find others like them, others who were ostracized by society. It didn't take long until they did; through sings, word of mouth and rumors, or by finding them in hidden places like dark streets or abandoned buildings. And so, they formed "Home", a circus of the city's "weirdos". ㅤㅤThey performed for others, with time gained their sympathy and admiration; their shows were fun, unique, mesmerizing. Everyone liked them. But most importantly, They liked doing them. They supported, took care of, Loved each other; they were finally happy, together.

ㅤㅤBut nice things never last, do they?

ㅤㅤIt started just like any other day; Wally woke up in the small room he rented with his share of the money made from the shows, got ready for the day and went out, heading to the tent they performed in to rehearse with the others. It was like a home, only there he felt like he belonged, only there he felt safe.

ㅤㅤBut it wasn't there. Home was completely gone.

ㅤㅤWally felt his heart sank. Did something happen? What could've possibly caused the whole tent to disappear overnight? She quickly approached someone she'd seen in the audience multiple times and asked them about it, but to his surprise, they looked at them with disgust and pushed him away, telling her to never approach them again before walking away, insulting him under their breath.

ㅤㅤShe quickly got up, running to the inn he knew Barnaby was staying at; they'd never seen him there, and added that they'd never let a freak like him stay there in the first place. When he got out, a man dressed in black stared at him from the shadows, mockingly smiling before turning away and disappearing without leaving a trace. Tears were already running down her face, ruining their make up and making other people stare at him with disapproval. "Why?" she thought, dropping to her knees, defeated. Why was this happening to him? What did they do to deserve this? Why was everyone so cruel? ㅤㅤAfter a few hours of walking around, he couldn't deny it any longer. To her horror...

ㅤㅤNo one remembered. Not even those who she thought of as family. ㅤㅤIt was like nothing ever happened. Like Home never happened.

ㅤㅤThis is a story not lost to time, ㅤㅤbut to a man's hatred and jealousy.

4. ﹕ Misc ,

The AU's Spotify playlist!

more coming soon . . .

Farewell, neighbor! Thank you for reading. @:)

[sleep-drink]

Hey Guys!!!! Actor AU ShTuuuuuff

So I wanted to add a lil lore to the Actor AU comic in terms of roles and hierarchy :)

Welcome Home as a show has a VERY large turnover rate! This is in fact not entirely due to Wally though. The company the production is under “The Playfellow Network” historically tends to not treat its actors or it’s crew very well. It pays decently in terms of its crew and because of how well the show is received it’s actors are paid even more, but in terms of things like benefits (mainly again for crew) it’s garbage. Also, because they can’t keep a whole lot of people retained, they will just kind of hire anyone. Lots of people who are in the industry have passed through Playfellow and the general consensus is “oh god, you worked at Playfellow too?”. Because of the lack of employee retention, the work environment and atmosphere is catty. at best. This makes communication between departments really difficult and very stressful. On top of that is Wally, who runs the show because he’s basically irreplaceable. As you know he’s trying to protect his loved ones and fellow actors from the terrible set and network conditions which are basically discriminatory for puppets.

The characters and their roles so far (in order of hierarchy):

Wally - Star (Lead Actor):

This is pretty straight forward. He’s mr. Irreplaceable and he doesn’t like humans. With pretty good reason :)

Susan - 2nd AD (currently acting as Key PA): Susan is the Second Assistant Director on this production and has been working here for 6 months. She works basically as a backstage manager and coordinates the call sheets and wrangles actors (when she has to). Poor Susan is actually hella overworked. So (oh no!) there is actually not currently a Key Production assistant working on Welcome Home! (I love causing my characters pain eeehehehehehehee ((we’ll see more of that soon))

The Key PA is in charge of all of the production assistants and let’s them know what to do and to keep them on schedule. The person who WAS key PA did quit (mayhaps or not cuz of something Wally did) and the company has not yet hired someone new (hooray bureaucracy).

Dolly - Walkie PA (Currently ALSO acting as Key PA): Dolly is technically the Walkie Production assistant, which means they are in charge of all of the Walkie use on set (she is actually not very good at this and it’s why she often forgets to turn her own mic off). Fun fact! Dolly’s only been on this production for like a month and a half and has outlasted most other walkie PA’s! :) She started as a costume PA and then expressed interest in other areas of production to Susan. Susan was like “Omg yes help me” and kind of forced her on Walkie PA because she has some (theatrical) tech experience in the past. Walkie PA’s can act as Key PAs but dolly has no prior experience and is kind of floundering, plus weird requests from Wally (like fixing his wardrobe sleeve length for him) take up a lot of their time. They don’t mind because it’s just a rule on set that what Wally says goes, but it makes their job just that much more difficult :)))))). Dolly is dealing with it… kinda.

Sandra - PA: Sandra is a production assistant who has been here for about 5 months. Production assistants are generally considered entry-level production jobs but she has beef with Dolly because she’s been here for longer and Dolly has been (technically) promoted before her (even though there’s SO much bleed-through between departments). She also is just a bully, she’s trying to come back from a failed stand-up career, but she’s basically been blacklisted in several comedian circles. (Gee I wonder if it’s the threats and bigotry)

Everybody else who you’ve seen so far are usually random PA’s or I haven’t assigned them a true role yet. But here’s what I got so far! I am by no means an expert. I am an actor (and a stage actor mainly at that, but I’ve dabbled in film) so not all of my info is probably truly accurate. But I try! As per the usual AU CRED: @frillsand 💗 u b! Thanks for reading my ramblings!

[skumhuu]

You may ask me to add tags and I will decide whether I will use them or not. You may not tell me how to run my blog or be passive aggressive towards me. Here is how to blacklist tags on mobile:

[secretlytranced]

Honestly, Hypnofy sounds like such a good idea.

So, for starters, it's got a similar payment model to Spotify: You can use it for free, but you can only listen to albums in their default order and you can't just play a specific file unless you put it first in a playlist. You also get ads every ~30mins, specifically when you're under (advertisers love the uptick in sales from brainwashed consumers choosing their items over a competitors).

Premium comes with the ability to listen to the files you want, when you want, ad free. Also has some nice bonuses like access to content creators who are opposed to their money coming from advertisers brainwashing people. Maybe some more stuff like podcasts, audiobooks, etc (with a hypno twist of course, like maybe getting to listen to a podcast with a sub, tist, and interviewer where the sub is just so excited to talk about their hobbies but they keep accidentally triggering themselves to get dumber, or an audiobook that's fully immersive with short wake-ups between each chapter in case you needed to do something other than be dr Victor Frankenstein creating your perfect man(and subsequently running in terror from him because you thought he was ugly after reanimation)).

Of course, you can create your own playlists of various hypno files, and you can also find other public playlists that people have made. You can even set your playlist to be private so only the people you share it with can listen to it.

There's an age verification requirement, with Hypnofy Kids being basically just sponsored content that's safe for kids and no ads, all for obvious reasons I would hope. This means that Hypnofy itself is 18+ and the "Explicit content" Tag is more of a courtesy (you're still required to add it when uploading your file, but if there's a mistake it's not the end of the world).

If you're feeling lucky, you can just pop on a genre radio like "Gentle Femdom", "Cock Dumb Trance", or "Mind Massage" and just zone out till you hit a file with a wake-up at the end.

Of course you can blacklist tags and creators.

And there's even an option you can turn on to include subliminal messages in everything you listen to, to enjoy the app, rate it 5 stars, share it with your friends, and maybe even add your own files if you're so inclined.

And of course: Wrapped is essential.

Ok, I'm calling investors, if you can work on getting some programmers on board, I think we got something good going here!

[fuckingaroundatfreddys]

Welcome to Five Nights of Stupidity!

We're an all-inclusive Fnaf blog! We do pretty much everything :P

Requests, Fanart, Random fnaf rants, and yk, other fnaf stuff

Eclipse, Springtrap, and Fredbear run this account atm, but there may be more mods joining in the future...

Eclipse is the most active mod, as they're pretty much up 24/7.

Fredbear watches over this blog more often then posting, he's like our personal notif system.

WHAT WE OFFER (REQ) - The mods have their own list, but here's the list in general!

Moodboards/Stimboards (our specialty) - Open!

Names/Neos - closed

Positivity Boosts - closed

Kinfessions - Open!

Carekits ✨ - closed

Kinflags ✨ - closed

Other stuff probably - closed

This list changes frequently :>

Stuff that takes longer - ✨

RULES! - Please read before sending anything!

When requesting something like a moodboard, be somewhat specific. (Character/Ship/Etc + Aesthetic is the usual)

if you don't have specifics, that's fine! But we do need a main topic.

Don't be rude... Please.

This is a FNAF themed blog. We do FNAF things. Don't ask for something from a different fandom.

If you want a specific mod to see your ask, "@" them.

We probably won't draw anything for you, but feel free to ask anyway.

Ask beforehand if you're requesting something from Non-Canon Material. (AUs, web series, etc.) TSAMS is blacklisted for our own comfort.

DNI! - Violators will be blocked!

Standard DNI criteria (homophobes, transphobes, racists, sexists, etc)

Anti-Alterhuman

Anti-Furry

FNAF Haters (why are you here /genq)

NSFW Blogs and such.

+ Will probably add more

anon list below

ANONS - Started "count" 1/1/2024

💫 anon

Ourple anon

🦊🔧 anon

[darehearts]

i'm going to add this to my rules shortly  but please only follow this blog if you can handle the fact that i occasionally share my opinions on the rpc  (  for example,  saying things like the only way to deal with anon hate is to block it,  or just making general reminders about how we can better our experience  ).  i make such comments with the intention to be helpful.  they are always about everyone on my dash.  they are not vagues — they  ARE  in fact directed at  ALL  my mutuals,  and they mean to be constructive in the same vein as the positivity posts i make.  you don't have to agree with everything i say and you can run your blog however you like  !  i'm not here to tell you what to do,  but i am free to share my experiences as a means to help or as reminders for those who are discouraged or going through a rough time on my dash.  i will be more thorough with my tw tags going forward to ensure necessary blacklisting can happen.  if this is not a vibe for you,  hard block me right now.  i request that with utmost sincerity.

[tavs-kin-korner]

rEQUESTS ARE: cLOSED (COME BACK SOON!)

iNBOX: 18

hI THERE, tHIS IS A KIN HELP BLOG RUN BY tAVROS! tHIS IS A SAFE PLACE FOR FICTIONKINS, oTHERKINS, iRLS, fICTIVES, tHERIANS, oTHERHEARTED, cOPINGLINKS, AND MANY MORE!! (sEE DNI AT END OF POST,)

i WANT THIS TO BE A SAFE PLACE FOR MANY, sO i HAVE VERY FEW LIMITS ON SOURCES! aLTHOUGH, i HAVE RECENTLY CREATED A BLACKLIST WHICH CAN BE SEEN BELOW, i DO HAVE THE RIGHT TO DECLINE A REQUEST IF I AM UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT! i MAY NOT KNOW A SOURCE VERY WELL, sO IF YOUR SOURCE IS NOT ON MY SOURCE LIST, pLEASE BE MORE SPECIFIC!

i AM OK WITH MAKING STIMBOARDS ETC, wITH THEMES OF BL00D/G0R3/W3AP0NRY/HORROR! tHEY WILL BE POSTED BELOW THE CUT AND HAVE WARNINGS, sO OTHERS WHO MAY BE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THOSE THEMES CAN BE SAFE, }:)

wHAT i DO HERE!

-sTIMBOARDS

-mOODBOARDS

-fASHION KITS

-cARE KITS

-pRIDE ICONS

-dOODLES/SKETCHES (fULL WORKS ARE COMMISSIONS ONLY,,, sORRY!)

-nAME/PRONOUN SUGGESTIONS

-kINFESSIONS (pLEASE SPECIFY IF IT IS A CONFESSION! tALK ABOUT YOUR EXPERIENCES, eTC,)

-kIN CALLS (pLEASE SPECIFY IF IT IS A KIN CALL! tELL US THE SOURCE, aGE RANGE, oR ANY SPECIFIC PEOPLE YOU'RE LOOKING FOR!)

-kIN LETTERS (pLEASE SPECIFY IF IT IS A LETTER! mAKE SURE TO ADDRESS THE RECIPIENT AND SIGN OFF! mAYBE EVEN SPECIFY THE SOURCE SO i CAN TAG PROPERLY!)

-kIN ADVICE (pLEASE SPECIFY IF YOU ARE VENTING/LOOKING FOR ADVICE! fEEL FREE TO VENT IN THE ASKS/ASK QUESTIONS, i'LL TRY MY BEST TO HELP! }:D)

-sURPRISE ME (i'LL PICK ANY OFF THE LIST AND MAKE A NICE SURPRISE FOR YOU!)

-pOKEMON TEAM

-aESTHETIC ICONS (pROVIDES 3, PROVIDE AN AESTHETIC FOR ME TO BASE IT OFF OF, oR YOU CAN ASK ME TO PICK FOR YOU!)

-pLAYLIST (pROVIDES 5 SONGS, iF YOUR SOURCE IS NOT ON THE FOLLOWING LIST, pLEASE PROVIDE EXTRA INFORMATION ABOUT YOU AND YOUR SOURCE!)

-rECIPE KIT (6 RECIPES, pLEASE INCLUDE SPECIFICATIONS ON FOODS TO INCLUDE/AVOID!)

-hOME DECOR KIT

-vIDEO PLAYLIST (pROVIDES 5 VIDEOS, pLEASE SPECIFY WHAT TYPES OF VIDEOS (ASMR, aNIMATIONS, eTC,) yOU'D LIKE ME TO INCLUDE/AVOID!)

-tITLES (5 TITLES)

-wALLPAPER (540 X 960, fIT FOR A PHONE BACKGROUND) (1 WALLPAPER, pLEASE SPECIFY **SPECIFIC** DIMENSIONS IF YOU PLAN TO USE IT FOR A DIFFERENT DEVICE, iNCLUDE SPECIFIC AESTHETICS/OTHER CHARACTERS IF YOU'D LIKE THEM, iF NOT i WILL DO WHAT i THINK FITS BEST,)

sOURCES i KNOW BEST!

hOMESTUCK, yOUR fAVORITE mARTIAN, oMORI, pOKEMON, sPLATOON/sPLATOON MANGA, mY lITTLE pONY, tHE lEGEND oF zELDA, mARIO, cHAINSAW mAN, gORILLAZ, sPARKLECARE hOSPITAL, aNIMAL cROSSING, kIRBY, eNA, hELLUVA bOSS, bLUEY, gRAVITY fALLS, hOLLOW kNIGHT, fIVE nIGHTS aT fREDDY'S, bENDY AND THE iNK mACHINE, cUPHEAD, sPOOKY mONTH, fRIDAY nIGHT fUNKIN', sTRANGER tHINGS, bLACK bUTLER, sONIC tHE hEDGEHOG, lITTLEST PET SHOP, dEMON sLAYER, sUICIDE bOY, dOLL eYE, lINK cLICK, rICK AND mORTY, mY hERO aCADEMIA, tOTAL dRAMA, cHIKN nUGGIT, mADNESS cOMBAT, jUJUTSU kAISEN, aCE aTTORNEY, tHE aMAZING dIGITAL cIRCUS, tANKMEN, hIVESWAP, sALLY fACE, mETALOCALYPSE, oK kO, rEGRETEVATOR, dEAD pLATE,

bLACKLIST:

dSMP (i KNOW i USED TO DO THIS DESPITE NEVER BEING INTO IT OR KNOWING ANYTHING ABOUT IT, bUT i DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE ANYMORE WITH THE RECENT EVENTS, i AM NO LONGER DOING IT AS A WHOLE BECAUSE i DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH INFORMATION ON THE OTHER MEMBERS), tHE mAGIC sCHOOL bUS (pERSONAL REASONS), aLFRED'S pLAYHOUSE, fACTKIN (FACTIVES ARE FINE) AND ENDOGENIC SYSTEMS,

aNON LIST!: 🧡

sTUFF ABOUT ME! }:D

i AM FICTIONKIN/ID OF tAVROS nITRAM (hOMESTUCK), aND i HAVE MANY OTHERS, aS WELL AS IRLS AND COPINGLINKS! i AM A RED FOX THERIAN AND DEMONKIN! i AM BISEXUAL AND TRANS! i USE HE/BULL/TAUR/TROLL (AND MANY MORE) PRONOUNS!

dNI: bASIC DNI (hOMOPHOBIA, tRANSPHOBIA, rACISM, aBLEISM, fACISM, pEDOS/mAPS, zOOS, eTC,), aNTI-kIN, aNTI-tHERIAN, aNTI-fURRY, aNTI-xENOGENDER/nEOGENDER, aNTI-mCYT, aNTI-hOMESTUCK, aNTI-aGE REGRESSION/NSFW aGE REGRESSION, fACTKIN, eNDOS, pROSHIP, kINK BLOGS, xENOSATANISM, (mAY ADD MORE IN THE FUTURE,)

tHANKS FOR READING! lOOKING FORWARD TO REQUESTS! };)

jOIN THE SERVER, iF YOU'D LIKE!

[before-calamity]

Blacklist and Friend List

1.0, being an MMO, had social features, such as being able to keep track of your friends...and being able to ignore others.

Left picture is the blacklist, the right picture is the friends list.

These two systems are very simple. Just a list. Your friends list will also display your friends current status. Like in ARR, you can hold up to 200 friends. Clicking that shiny add button gives you a prompt that looks like this:

Where you can type in the character's name. It's the same whether it's the blacklist or the friends list.

Ironically, this is something ARR regressed on. Using the blacklist in modern FFXIV is an exercise in nails, because as far as I know, you can't just add someone to the blacklist. In order to get them onto a blacklist, you either had to recently run a duty with them or they need to be in the world around you or say something in one of the chat channels. While you can add friends through the Player Search feature, you can't add to the blacklist in that way. Sometimes, drama pops off outside of the game, and you need to proactively blacklist someone because you need some time away from them, and modern FFXIV won't let you do that. 1.0 can for whatever reason, but not ARR+. These two features need some QoL love in the next expansion.

[kwyw]

My understanding of how IMDB works is a bit more like Linked In than Wikipedia. A person is essentially in charge of their own info there . They are typically edited by the actor’s agent or manager. Think about all the non-famous actors on there. If you played guy #3 on some show in 1987, you can be found on IMDB. And then you can add in all other tiny rolls you’ve had and upcoming projects.

If you have a IMDB pro account, which I did at one point, it unlocks a bit more info, including the contact info for the actor (or if you are a tiny actor without an agent, you can post a personal email there.) If you’re Tom Cruise, it’s gonna have your agent’s contact info. So, I’m pretty sure the Karlie Kloss (Voice) thing would have been added by Karlie’s team.

Now, you may ask, what prevents people from lying? She could say she starred as a shark in Sharknado, who’s going to stop her? Well, it’s the same as Linked In. Anyone can be reported there. If someone said they worked at my company, I can report them. Or if they say they got a certain degree, a university, or alumni, can report them. Too many reports and someone can get banned from Linked In. Plus, of course, just like lying on a resume, you run the risk of being caught and fired or blacklisted. Same thing here. The people who made the movie sharknado could report her. The people who next want to hire her for something could say “Oh were you really a shark in Sharknado?”, and she could provide proof, or get caught in a lie. In the case of Taylor, if her voice being in it was a lie (and ESPECIALLY if Taylor hated her) she’d be reported and it would taken down. If it stays up now that people have noticed it, that is tacit approval from Taylor IMO.

Thank you! This is really helpful!!