imaginarypasta
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Three little rambles about what it means to be from a place and in a place.
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Season 2: Julie and the Phantoms by imaginarypasta, lilqueen97
Fandoms: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
14 Apr 2025
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Following the events of season 1, Julie and the boys have various problems and interpersonal relationships to tackle.
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Old friends gathered in the lantern-lit corner of a property owned by the same family as far back as anyone could remember, long after hours as its current owner had finished his shift and rarely spent more time in the bar than needed, an exception to this rule only when his longest friend and most loyal brother, though neither title demanded the intensity they implied, asked a favor of him.
The tavern was used to meetings like this—quiet reunions, unofficial strategizing, confidential rendezvous—and so were the parties involved, concerned with politics and appearances as they were, whatever ideals that currently motivated them betrayed by old oaths of trust and friendship. Soft creaks grew loud against the marching footsteps of a winter storm, a quality that made the tavern perfect for sharing secrets in crowds and teasing them out if you knew the lay of the floor well enough. Now, though, it meant their voices would not carry to any listening ears outside its walls.
“It’s best we keep our investigation quiet. The less eyes the better.”
Three old friends strategize about next steps over drinks at the bar.
Jarch Day 7: coffee/tea
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“What’s that?”
Kaeya moves along the countertop toward the back door, toward the object caught in his sights: an ornate wooden box sitting on the end of the marble, unattended. Crepus’ gaze follows him the whole way, watching from below beetled eyebrows.
“Something I may give Diluc for his eighteenth,” is his only answer.
Kaeya raises an eyebrow. He looks to Crepus, asking for permission, but he does not receive further acknowledgement. He opens the box anyway, spindly fingers tracing spindly vines carved into the wooden lid. It took a lot of time and patience to carve this box, merely a vessel for what’s inside. And what’s inside is— strange.
Kaeya prepares a confession for Crepus that has long weighed on his mind; he is instead reminded that he is not the only one with secrets.
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Loop struggles with a new body and a new memory.
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Their parents liked her more, but Barbara was easy to like. It was only ever Jean who could impress them.
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- Part 6 of March comes in like a lion
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Bookmarked by imaginarypasta
01 Apr 2025
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Diluc didn't particularly enjoy tending to the bar. It was apparent by the way that he treated customers, always on this side of coolly polite, even to someone like Jean: and he disliked the smell of alcohol, and the crowd, and the hustle and bustle, and he was impatient when dealing with unruly or impolite customers, high-handedly banning people from the premises as he'd liked: such a temper, Kaeya had said of Diluc once after his return, half-fond, half-unknown, as he'd leaned the side of his neck against the top of the high-backed chair next to Jean's in her office, and she'd only learned the day after that Diluc had told him to get out of his bar and go home that night. He didn't enjoy the rote memorization of the movements, the way that it barely required him to do anything else but move his hands here and there, and he disliked the wet, the clinging damp of the melting ice-frost against the glass against his gloves, the red of the wine when it spilled against his shirt, staining black blacker, and he didn't enjoy the way that people came to talk to him when he was there.
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- English
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- 1,455
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Bookmarked by imaginarypasta
01 Apr 2025
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She confesses, years later when he relays the story to Diluc trying to get a laugh out of him at her expense, that she hadn’t known where else to take him. The offices seemed like a bad idea, and none of the bars had been open, and the only restaurant she knew was in Springvale. It was the first place she could think of, Jean said, eyes clear and bright. Really, Jean said, honest.
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- Part 5 of March comes in like a lion
Bookmarked by imaginarypasta
29 Mar 2025
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Back when they lived together — and on a few occasions after they stopped — Jean would be tasked on occasion to take Barbara to church instead of their father, who had a habit of overindulging when he was invited to partake in drink at this party or at that event. It was always expected for Jean to be in attendance at the service, which she always was, injury or sickness notwithstanding, and she would have accompanied her family there even if her father was less — afflicted, only she would be charged, these times, to take Barbara alone, which was a departure from their normal routine, but not a significant one.
- Language:
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- 1,802
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Bookmarked by imaginarypasta
26 Mar 2025
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Her mother had no particular preferences for tea, although in Mondstadt the flavors tended to run mild. Tea was a child's drink, or a daytime drink, or a working drink, but the people would always prefer wine, when it came down to it — so it was made sweet for children, and made refreshing for working adults, something to cleanse the palate and take the edge out of hunger before lunch came. Certainly her mother never made it for herself to drink without some sort of prompting: so Jean would know, watching their maid bustle around the serving-room, beginning to take out the tea-trays and the delicate porcelain, that they were to have guests, and by counting the cups, she would know, roughly, who they were to expect. Crepus, Kaeya, and Diluc made five, Barbara and her father only four, her mother would sometimes receive Grand Master Varka in their estate, very rarely, with two twin teacups as proof.
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Bookmarked by imaginarypasta
23 Mar 2025