teocrsh

[teocrsh]

various ryukis...mostly shinji...finished it yesterday. im moved

[teocrsh]

from christmas

[teocrsh]

man

[teocrsh]

I just really love this game...

(Characters belong to @/teocrsh from their game The Front Yard, which you can play for free on itchio...)

[teocrsh]

Just so you are aware dear human.

Me and my friend are aggressively trying to make fan art of your game. I mean aggressively.

We love your game it needs more fanart.

i have not been checking tumblr, but i'm getting back into the swing of development so i finally cracked open this app again...and this ask?! i'm so touched!!!!

im really happy you enjoyed tfy 🥹🥹🥹 i will look out for anything you draw, please please tag it so i can see 😭😭😭 thank you so much!!!!

[teocrsh]

geats if it was awesome (friendship and family)

[teocrsh]

ish from twitter

[teocrsh]

hi big sachika lover here

[teocrsh]

:)

[teocrsh]

god. words cannot describe my reactions while reading this?! first of all THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING FOR MY GAME THIS IS UNREAL 😭😭😭 secondly, THIS IS INCREDIBLE? i can see all of this play out so perfectly, it's so THEM, it's so something that would happen?! the good moments being so bittersweet and yet natural, the mentions of the guilt fergal holds and eoin playing off his own state...eoin's kindness to fergal is something so important! this fic is just. gah. really cannot emphasize how amazing this is. please give it a read if you can! and again TY OP...? YOUR WRITING IS SO GOOD ☹️ IM A FAN!!!

Burnt at The Bottom

A Fanfic for The Front Yard by @teocrsh. It's a very sad but very good play, and only takes about 20 minutes. I highly recommend giving it a try if you have the time! There are spoilers under the cut, so please play before reading. Content Warnings: Blood (Mentioned), Illness, Food.

“...up…” My friend used to wake me up in the mornings. I had a bad tendency to sleep in, and thus often had to skip breakfast. “...ak…p” But truth be told, I never felt like I was missing anything. The bland oatmeal we had in the mornings had soon grown to be worse than the hunger that came from avoiding it.

“...Ferg…” I would tie my hair up to keep it out of my way, put on a ‘fresh’ set of clothes, and we’d be right out the door.

“Fergal, wake up!” Fergal was finally brought into the realm of the living by the feeling of his sheets-and by extension, him-being dragged off his bed. He spilled out onto the floor with a grunt. He spent a moment wallowing on the floor and wishing he was still asleep, and he finally looked up, and wished he hadn’t. Eoin was standing over him, looking pale. Too pale. How had he been reduced to this so quickly? “Finally up?” Eoin asked, keeping what he must have deemed a safe distance. Neither of them knew too well how his problem could spread, so they’d settled on keeping apart. As such, Fergal had seen very little of his roommate over the last week. The man was out the door before Fergal was awake, most days. But today was different, apparently. Fergal wished it wasn’t. He didn’t want to see the bags under Eoin’s eyes, or the blood at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, I’m up.” Fergal finally muttered, standing up. “What, am I that late? Usually you aren’t so violent.” “Actually, we’re early. Come on.” Eoin turned and left the room, which resulted in Fergal blinking after him. Well, that was cryptic. Still, it was better to go see what he wanted. It must have been terribly important if Eoin had gotten him up early. Especially considering…everything. Fergal shuddered, and left his room, and then, feeling more confused, entered the open kitchen. The table had ingredients piled up on it. Most of them were way, way too expensive for their usual grocery shopping.  Oh.

Well, that explained why Eoin hadn’t been drunk on Friday. Fergal had just assumed that he hadn’t been feeling up to drinking.

“What is all this?” Fergal finally asked, gesturing with one hand at the pile on the table.

“It’s a good day.” Eoin said, like a liar. “So. Let’s do something different. Let’s make those pancakes.”

Fergal stared blankly. Yes, he remembered Eoin briefly mentioning the idea, but he hadn’t actually expected anything to come of it. At the time it had felt more like a jab at his expense than anything else.

“...it’s too early for a joke like that!” Fergal finally found words. “Wasting money on things like this. You shouldn’t even be…” But almost as soon as he’d found said words, he’d lost them again, seeing the (non-bloodied) corner of Eoin’s mouth twitch downwards slightly.

Fergal knew better than to lie to himself. There was no chance of Eoin getting better. No amount of bed rest, or healthy eating would matter now. It was too late. Eoin’s days were quite literally numbered, and here Fergal was, throwing his attempt at breaking their bloody routine back in his face.

The long haired man took a deep breath. “...no. You’re right. Anything’s better than oatmeal.” He decided, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly. “So, do you actually know how to make these things…?”

“We’ll figure it out. We have time.” Goddamn it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it turned out, figuring it out took several failed attempts. Normally, beggars couldn’t be choosers, especially not with their limited funds, but it felt important to Fergal that the pancakes at least have some kind of flavor. The job was even harder, because only one of them could be in the kitchen at a time. Which, in the end, resulted in Eoin standing in the doorway while Fergal did all the work. Fergal felt guilty for thinking that it was for the best. He didn’t want whatever Eoin had.

“How’s this batch coming?” Eoin finally spoke up. He must have thought the lack of smoke was a good sign.

“Runny. And I think they’re going to stick. I flipped them too early.” Fergal grit out. He ignored the coughing fit that came before Eoin’s response.

“Well, it’s alright. I think…we’re probably just going to have to take the next ones no matter how they come out. It’ll be time to start heading out soon.”

Fergal felt a sting of…something, as he got rid of the failed batch and started over again. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He managed as a response. Fuck. Alright, he’d just…get these ones right. Or close enough to it. He had to.

“...Maybe this was a bad idea.” Eoin mused aloud. He seemed to realize it hadn’t been a mental dialogue not long after. “I…shit, sorry. I just mean I probably could have just held on to the money instead. It would have been better than…”

“Since when are you self aware?” Fergal couldn’t stop the response before it came out. He was too used to casual banter that it had almost become second nature, even though it was hardly the right time.

To Fergal’s surprise though, Eoin laughed. “Oi, I can be plenty self aware. I’m just feeling particularly sentimental lately, I suppose.”

Fergal didn’t know what it was, but for a moment, he almost felt like everything could still be alright. But then, of course, Eoin ruined the moment with a cough. Misery welcomed itself back inside like an old friend.

“Eoin…maybe you should just…quit.” Fergal spoke up. He knew it was the wrong thing to say, because the quiet that followed was chilly.

“I feel as though it’s just a bit too late for that.” Came the eventual response, Eoin’s tone was unreadable.

“...yeah.” What else could Fergal even say? It was true, wasn’t it? It was far too late. And he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Eoin should have never taken this job, and certainly not for Fergal’s sake. Those were just the facts of the matter.

The silence in the room, and the inevitability of their situation hung in the air, along with the smell of pancake batter. It was several minutes before Fergal spoke up again. “They’re ready.”

Fergal moved the pancakes onto plates, and left one on the table for Eoin to take. His friend was in and out of the room in under three seconds. Fergal sighed and rested against the wall, slowly sliding down to the floor as he stabbed at his pancakes now and then. He couldn’t find the stomach to actually take a bite out of them.

He felt guilty even looking at the things he noted, his head thudding back against the wall.

“How are they?” Fergal finally found the nerve to call out.

“They’re burnt at the bottom.”

[teocrsh]

Are you alright with people writing fics for The Front Yard or would you prefer they didn't?

hello! first of all TYSM FOR YOUR SUPPORT TT i appreciate it! please feel free to write fics, my only request is that it isn't nsfw in any way. i look forward to anything you write if you intend to do so! 💙💙

[teocrsh]

HELLO!!! i'm super excited to announce my first shot at making a game is now available on itch io! "the front yard" is a super short vn-esque rpg maker game that follows fergal byrne and eoin kairys, two new yorkers who moved to the union stockyards of chicago for work. it is playable here! please check it out if you can!

[teocrsh]

remember prompocalypse

[teocrsh]

💛💛💛💛💛

[teocrsh]

[teocrsh]

[teocrsh]

i am experiencing back pains akin to that of an old man