#I am crying in my office

[respectthepetty]

I should've given an award to Oh No! Here Comes Trouble last year for the red thread of a fate, but Unknown's final episodes just solidified that this WILL be a Colors Award this year.

Because I just really love when the colors color so fucking well.

The red stairs were a character all on their own.

Those red stairs continuously showed they were connected.

And it worked so well since Qian and Yuan were black and white.

So every time the red showed up between them, it was just a reminder of their connection.

And that they were meant to be together.

Because with Yuan, Qian is lighter.

Without him, he is completely dark.

That red street brought them together.

It's where their story began, both as brothers, and as partners.

And it was extended even to San Pang and Lili.

Yuan and Qian's light and dark dynamic was constantly reinforced.

Again and again

And when Yuan told Qian not to be afraid of the cracks because that's where the light comes in, it reinforced the whole purpose of this light and dark dynamic.

In Qian's dark world, Yuan brought light. When Qian thought he was flawed, Yuan showed him he was loved. Where Qian thought he was broken, Yuan healed him.

So for Yuan to say that he thinks Qian's mother brought them together, and for us to always see in her red . . .

In a painful way, Yuan is right. Qian is who he is because of the hurt from his mother. Qian would have never met Yuan, would have never protected Yuan, and would have never loved Yuan the way he had if he hadn't been so adamant to never be his mother.

And because of that, Yuan can return that love to Qian (while they are balanced in similar colors)

AND THE BLACK BRACELET! (Since Qian is color coded black, him giving Yuan his color is so significant, and now Yuan is giving him back all that love!)

The red brought them together.

And now they get to sit there in this soft blinding light of love in their soft pinks being happy and in love with each other!

Take your award, Unknown!

Fucking Taiwan, hurting me twice with this damn red thread.

[florallylly]

i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington

note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(

bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.

so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.

but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.

he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.

a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.

and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.

apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.

and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.

his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.

so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.

but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.

but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.

steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."

and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.

and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.

but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.

and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.

and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.

through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.

but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.

and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.

even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.

but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.

the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.

this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.

but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.

[londonfoginacup]

Personal stream of consciousness around Liam and grief and moving forward

Every day I wake up and Liam is still dead. It continues to sort of feel like at some point I will wake up and that won’t be true, that he’ll be back, like he’s just on a trip right now. And I think that’s… a normal part of the grieving process, but it’s hard because it feels disrespectful, almost.

I only did 8 days of inktober this year. I had another ten sketched out already in my notebook, and now I wonder what to do with those. Some of them were good! (Some weren’t). I was older than Liam by a month or so, but for some reason I want to be able to go to him now, and show him those sketches, and say, I do art too! Aren’t you proud of me?

Death is a horrible and unnatural thing. It was never supposed to happen to us. We grieve because we were not made to lose people. We were made to love them forever. Grief is our body trying desperately to reconcile with a reality it was never made for. That is why it feels this way. We were not made for a life like this. We were made to hold one another in our arms. We were made to love each other. We were made for more.

I want to tell him that. That he was made for more than he got. I hope someday I can.

When tumblr started having polls, I always voted the Liam option, and in part that was because I love Liam and I would’ve chosen him regardless. But in part it was with the thought that, if he were to ever snoop on our community here, I wanted Liam to see that he had people in his corner. I don’t regret that. I’m sad it’s all I could do.

I was thinking about it earlier. About One Direction. I tried to slice it so many ways and I came to the conclusion that Liam and Louis are the ones that I think were the heart. I think 1D could’ve come back together to tour, make music, and so on, as long as it had at least those two. 1D could never exist without Liam. It just couldn’t. He loved them too much.

Obviously, I haven’t turned my queue back on. I haven’t felt right reblogging current day stuff about the boys. It feels like turning that back on will indicate being ready to move on, to some extent. And okay, I’ll never be ready so there’s that. But. The idea of turning it back on doesn’t feel right. Not yet.

That being said, I started last month preparing for Christmas. For the 25 days of fic rec I do, and the advent fic. And of course cards. I had decided just a week before Everything Happened that I couldn’t afford to do physical cards this year. And I feel ten times more guilty about that decision now, because it feels like surely people NEED that! But I am also trying to be realistic with myself; so many wonderful people have offered to help financially, and any other time I think I would’ve taken them up on that, but right now the emotional and mental weight of doing physical cards might also be too heavy.

Which, again, makes me feel like I’m letting people down when they need me. If I could, I would send all of you personalized letters every day. It is so hard to reckon with the knowledge that I am only human and must take care of myself.

But I will do the fic recs. that’s easy; I’ve already finished the post graphics.

And I will do the advent fic (I might change my plot— the original one didn’t have a lot of Liam, but i think I need him there more).

And I will make some sort of digital cards for sure. It occurred to me this year that I never put my paper dolls online anywhere and I sort of wonder why not. At least maybe this will be a treat for anyone too wary of sending a stranger online their address— all of you can print th paper dolls for yourselves. I’ll make plenty of outfits.

So. That’s my plan, I suppose. I’ve cried writing this more than I’ve cried all week, I think because it’s easy to think that I am past the worst of the grieving right up until I have to look head on at the facts again.

I miss him. I miss him. How could this happen.

[foxy-kitsune]

someone please sedate me right now

[hkblack]

Let me tell you a story...

It starts in the summer of 2021. Honestly it probably starts a little before that. 2020 through 2022 ish are a bit hazy because there was a lot of sitting around at home doing nothing.

Somewhere in that haziness my partner goes “wait, you haven’t watched this Good Omens show yet? And you haven’t read the book? … oh no. You should do that.”

And immediately after finishing the show I knew I was in trouble. I knew if I read the book I would absolutely fall down the fandom rabbit hole and be trapped, and so for a very long while, I didn’t. Until I did.

And then in August 2021, I wandered into fandom. I had been lurking. Seeing what AO3 had to offer. Crawling back onto Tumblr. But I had a story idea, and I needed a beta reader. And the last time I was in fandom, LiveJournal was still a thing, so I didn’t know where to go.

I found out about Discord, and I signed up for a thousand servers, it felt like, and in one server I bravely started sticking my neck out.

There was talk about someone writing a Human AU on a farm, and farm animals in general, and I chimed in about goat-scaping. And then I made the joke that would seal my fate.

“I don’t know if I could write a kid fic, but you know. I could write a kid (goat) fic.”

It was meant to be a short, sweet, meet-cute. Professor Aziraphale has a goat from the goat scaping team break into his office. Based loosely on a campus experience where a member of the goat-scaping team at a campus I was on tried (and failed) to get into a classroom once.

A simple formula. Maybe a 4+1? 4 times a goat broke into Professor Aziraphale Fell’s office, and one time it didn’t.

I even found the first beta reading request. First chapter done, I’ve got four more planned. Rated T.

Ha.

I started writing Chapter 5, you know, the final chapter, and realized—there’s more to this story. These characters have life, and story, and who doesn’t want to see more goats? Also, had I truly fulfilled the “kid-fic” portion of my joke?

I think we can all agree that no, no I hadn’t.

So, I kept writing. But I also found my stride in other Discord Servers and in Fandom in general. And in the winter of 2021, I went on a beta-reading blitz for the Gift Exchange happening in the Do It With Style Events Discord server. I read something like 14? 15? stories in a very short amount of time and in doing so, got to know some really amazing people and began to carve out my spot in the community.

From this server I found folks with lived goat-experience who were willing to share and advise me. From this server I found beta readers and brit pickers willing to cheer me on and guide my writing to the best version it could be. I found friends and joy and I found community.

And if you look very carefully through the pages of Bleating Hearts, I think that at its heart, past the puns, past the obvious fast burn love story, and the crooked Luce Matin and demanding James Starr, and even beyond the goats, it’s a story about finding your place in a community. While we talk about Aziraphale and Crowley and their relationship, so many people have asked me about Anathema and Crowley at the chicken coop (we only got to see Newt and Aziraphale in the bedroom). The most commented on scene is Anathema pulling the car over and getting Aziraphale’s consent to go to Tracy’s for lunch.

It's a story with goats, romance, and drama. But it’s a story about community.

I have thanked the people most involved a thousand times over, and I will always take an excuse to thank them again. @ambrasue, my ride or die beta reader. She is who to thank for the sentences making sense. And for me not beating you all over the head with the word “Gently.” HolRose, for the Brit-Picking and second pair of eyes when Ambra and I had gone cross-eyed, and always, always, always having a kind comment ready to go for every chapter update. @writingordinaryrealities, for all things Goats, and for not laughing at me when we met in person and I lost my cool over real life goats.

@mirjam-writes! Mirjam made me my first ever fanart for one of my fanfics! And so many more of you have followed suit and I never know what to say when I see it but I always make a noise and run excitedly to my partner and flap my hands and show him his heart and he always gets the dumbest smile and goes, “I love when people make you goat fanart. You are adorable when you’re verklempt.”

But also, the DIWS and Good Omens community. Every single person who shouted at one of my snippets when I needed a boost and shared a bit of what I was proud of. Every single person who tagged me in a goat video—you all have tagged me in so many goat videos. I watch each and every one of them. Every single person who got excited when I said I was finally ready to start posting.

Because you see, that support, that community, led me to pay it forward. At TIC4 in 2023, I had just finished my panel on beta reading and was feeling a bit amped up. I saw in the chat that someone wanted to talk Slow Show and Human Aus and, I don’t know if y’all know this, but uh, I’m a big fan of human AUs. And so I hopped into the break out room and met J.

J is a lovely human who has been fandoming since the OG Star Trek days with Kirk and Spock. She had found a physical copy of Slow Show and just needed to talk to someone, anyone about it. She wasn’t sure what the Archive was, she was still learning her way around digital fandom, and I instantly wanted to reach out and help her find community and joy the way I had when I got started in the fandom. So, I sat down and I gave her my favorites. I told her how to find me on socials. We connected on Discord. We sent each other long letters back and forth on Discord sharing our joys and frustrations and our love of GO and talking about all sorts of other things. And it has been amazing listening to her stories and getting to know her.

Unbeknownst to me, J had reached out to @brunheiffer to ask for a physical copy of Bleating Hearts. Now—I’m all for fandom in the physical space, but it’s never even crossed my mind to do more than something printed out at my home printer, hastily hole punched, and shoved into a binder so I could sneak fanfiction reading time during 5th period math class after I was done with my worksheets many, many, many moons ago. When brunheiffer reached out and asked if they could print and bind a copy for me—I didn’t know what to say. Or do. Or think. I think I keysmashed? I keysmashed after I made my partner read the message out loud. And then I went and looked through tumblr and all of brunheiffer’s excellent work. And then I went, “Do I say yes?” and he went “um YES OF COURSE YOU SAY YES. WHAT”

So, I said yes.

I also said yes to progress shots and got to watch some of the coolest work ever. I didn’t know how books…ya know…booked. Witchcraft probably? I’m still convinced there is witchcraft involved, but there is also an incredible amount of skill, and time, and patience, and hard work, and love that is put into making a book a book. And learning what I did, and watching the process, and seeing the care that brunheiffer put into each of the three (THREE!) sets of books that were made (one for me, one for brunheiffer, one for J), was just stunning.

Do you know, J reached out to me and apologized for not asking me first and asked me if it was okay that she had reached out and asked if brunheiffer would do this for her? Why would I ever be against something so heartfelt and kind?

I cried.

I legitimately sat in my office and cried.

When people ask me how I write the way I do, or why I write, or anything along those lines. I have the same answer. “I write for myself.”

Oh sure, I started to write Bleating Hearts to make Ambra laugh and/or have feelings, but at the end of the day, when I write, it is because I need to get the bed time stories I tell myself at night, the day dreams while sitting on the bus, out of my head and somewhere else—so that a new movie can play. And when I write, I write knowing that I will come back to that story. That I will forget the little pieces (because I have a pretty shit memory tbh), and I’ll be able to go back, and wrap myself up in the comfort of the story I have written, and be surprised by some of the little details I left as presents for myself. And be excited. And be happy. And watch my favorite movie again.

So every time I see someone make art of this story, or talk about how they love the story, or how happy it made them, or the feelings it inspired, or how reading goats made them want to write their own fanfiction—I get, well, like my partner says, “verklempt.” I don’t know what to do with that feeling, other than to just be overwhelmed that somehow something I made to entertain me has brought other people so much joy. Has helped people connect and find community.

What a powerful and beautiful thing that is.

Not everything I write is going to be Bleati—y'all I am just going to call it Goats. Calling it Bleating Hearts feels so weird. It’s Goats. That’s the name of the story. That’s my name for the story.

Anyway.

Not everything is going to be Goats. I’ve got some wips in the hopper right now that are um…lots of angst and heavy spice. Not everything I write is going to be liked by everyone. Some of it may even offend you.

But knowing that this one thing has inspired you all to the point that I’ve been gifted the ability to hold my story in my hand?

That’s powerful.

And it only exists because this community, this Good Omens community, has come together and chosen joy.

There’s some bad apples out there, there are in every bunch. But I am liberal with my block button and have been blessed to find a welcoming and warm community that creates some amazing and incredible art—whether that’s like actual like digital or pen to paper art, or the fiction you write, or the podfics you record, or the meta analysis you write, or the playlists or the animatics or the beta reading or the shouting unhinged support or the role playing or the plushies, or the books you bind—this community is full of incredibly creative and amazing people.

So thanks, y’all, for letting me part of your community, and enjoying my silly little goat fic. And thank you brunheiffer and J for this amazing gift.

If you haven’t read it, or just want to reread it, you can read Bleating Hearts (GOATS) on Archive of Our Own.

All my love,

HK

(I am the most cringe sap on main right now. No regurts)

[a-concert-just-for-me]

QB ADHD test is crazy for autists bc tell me why you’re gonna strap this super uncomfortable headband to my head and also have the lights bright in the room bright af and then have the laptop flash images at me too

Like????????

[eyestrain-addict]

[xi-off]

very silly ghost head sequel concept where yuu and shou are paranormal investigators

(yuu still likes her headbands but shou prefers his hair up. hairstyle of the day just depends on who gets up first. as do some other things)

[jasperyourmutt]

Thank fucking god for doctors who give a shit about your health. I just met my new doctor who is going to be prescribing my T and I feel so relieved to have someone who actually CARES

[stepfordgoth]

If you've ever gotten your wisdom teeth taken out, please tell me your experience. For the past couple of years every time I go to the dentist they tell me I need to get mine out and today they really, really pressured me and I'm going to have to give in soon but I am scared lol I've never had any kind of dental procedure done, like ive never even had a cavity that had to be filled

[crimeronan]

just burst into tears in a post office and immediately the entire world opened up to me. easy criers must have the best lives what the fuck. i should stop taking my prozac Immediately.

[starbuck]

Real Emotional Labor Hours

[frecklystars]

I have another gig in a week and I'm so nervous 😭 I get paid hundreds of dollars for only five hours of work, but it is so nerve-racking and the work environment is so stressful, like literally every time I'm there I'm on the verge of tears or I have to take a 2 minute break before the show starts just to run to the restrooms and cry bc I get so stressed out. And then when I clock out I just cry my eyes out in my car while driving home. But hey!!! Hundreds of dollars!!! For five or six hours of my time!!! Only a few days a month!!! Hundreds!!! Of dollars!!! So it would be totally stupid to quit.

I wouldn't have been able to afford pampering myself on my last two F/O anniversaries (and currently placing an order for a rose bouquet for Six's anniversary for the 18th) if I didn't have this second job... but if it didn't pay me such a large amount of money each time, I probably would have quit by now bc it makes me so damn anxious. The show isn't even for one week and I'm sitting here stressing about it! I have one thousand other things to stress about and this job shouldn't be one of 'em 😤

I just keep trying to think about Ken hugging me while saying "Aw, sweet girl, don't be nervous! You JUST started this job, you've only worked three shows -- you think you're gonna be perfect your first try?? You're gonna be so good once you get the hang of it. Just look at me! I've been doing Beach for 62 years now, and I still don't know what my job is supposed to be... but I know I look So Cool™ 😎"

[smashwolfen]

Safe to say I got Arven, even if it cost me all my measly gems I saved, it was WORTH IT!! THE FRIENDS EVER ARE BACK TOGETHERRRRRR XD

His EX outfit isnt half bad either!

[apocalypticdemon]

I am so beyond ready to quit this job. Wednesday cannot come fast enough.

[intosnarkness]

Me: I should be careful with my musical intake I am currently fragile and could end up crying at my desk

Also me: Standing scared outside a cold church/Soul search, seeking some lost answer/From a God who loves me…