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#like you grow up in the 90s in a home that probably doesn’t have a high tax bracket situation
novelconcepts · 11 months
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Honestly, I made that joke about Van’s ancient desktop, but it probably works better than new computers. And it made me think: god, Van must HATE planned obsolescence. Stuff that’s built to die? Stuff that’s built to fall apart in a matter of years just to force you to buy more? For a person whose whole deal is gripping tight to the past, to old technology that still works perfectly fine, to the idea of survival threaded through everything from the stories she tells to the machines she rents out? Yeah, dude. No wonder she hates her cell phone. Not only does it force the illusion of connection without actually granting intimacy, but it’s doomed from the minute you take the thing out of the box. For Van, the very idea has got to be offensive.
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luvjunie · 10 months
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— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42
a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751
contains: mentions of grief
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Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.
He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.
His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.
Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.
It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.
He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’
Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.
He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.
Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.
On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.
In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).
But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.
That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.
They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.
And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”
But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.
And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she’s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.
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saltburn-brain-rot · 4 months
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I haven’t seen much talk about this piece of context yet so I’m just gonna put it out there. This is just brain rot drabble so take it with a grain of salt. I’m not an expert nor am I very familiar with British culture, but I am a gay person that grew up in the late 90s/early 00s in small town USA.
And sociopathic tendencies aside, I can relate a lot to Oliver, as well as Felix, when viewing them through the queer lens. That scene at the party early on at Oxford, sitting so close together in their own world. The small touches. The lingering looks. The tension feels too much to handle. Any formerly closeted queer person that had an intense crush on their best friend growing up probably can relate. You want to tell yourself they feel the same way, that you should just go for it—but you can’t trust yourself, and you certainly can’t make a move in a crowded room of people. It wouldn’t feel safe.
The feeling is too much, so Oliver redirects Felix’s attention to India and Annabel. The “safe” choices. But then when Felix does choose one of them, it hurts. He watches from the window, and later in the final flashback we see he was crying. He believes the truth and depth of his love is only meant for the shadows.
Farleigh has the freedom to be a confident pansexual because he has grown up in New York City with a bustling queer scene. Again I’m not very familiar with British culture, but I can imagine Oxford in 2006/2007 is more in line with the feeling of a small conservative town than the West Village in the early 2000s. Felix seems to accept Farleigh’s queerness, nonchalantly mentioning him sucking off the teachers, but he can’t understand his own feelings for Oliver. He can have any girl he wants and he does, but he doesn’t seem to actually feel anything for them. I used to do the same thing, trying to fool myself into feeling something for the opposite gender.
And the first time I admitted my feelings for someone of my same gender, confessed, and then was rejected? I shoved myself in the closet in shame so hard I convinced myself it was never true and it was all just a silly phase. Like Oliver.
Oliver loves Felix. Of course he does. And Felix loves Oliver. But in the moment neither of them can admit it, at least not truly and all that comes with it. They’re young and dumb and don’t fully understand their own feelings or motivations in a world where they’ve been raised to reject their queerness and strive for the status quo.
But maybe (definitely) I’m projecting.
I’m happy for the younger generations today that can be themselves at an earlier age. It’s only one small aspect of the movie to me, but seeing Saltburn and feeling the yearning and shy coming of age and coming into your queerness, and then how denying yourself can make it all go wrong, hit so close to home.
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sadlybeans · 1 year
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ok but now i need to write down these! (disclaimer: this is a compilation of things i’ve seen + a couple of mine, so you probably know a lot of them already)
✨Batdad headcanons✨
So we all know the classical ‘wouldn’t notice if some other random kid started living in his house’ thing, right? I personally think it’s true to some point. Like, he would notice there’s a new kid he definitely did not bring into the house, BUT he immediately (and mostly correctly) assumes said kid is here because their life sucks otherwise so he pretends not to see. (Bc like, come on, the Wayne family is anything but functional so if this is an improvement, what was their life like before they came?)
He doesn’t really care what the kids do with his money??? If they come up to him and ask “Hey B! Can I have a million bucks?” he would pull out his phone and wire them 2 million without question. The only one who has absolutely zero trust and must say explicitly what he wants is Damian, for obvious reasons.
He says he doesn’t have favourites but everyone knows he does. Cass, of course, and Jason (Do you seriously think he could carry guns with little issue if he didn’t have favourite son privileges?).
In reality, he’s absolute shit at handing out punishment/scolding the kids. He does try, to his credit, but they know how to manipulate their way out of it or bend the rules to their favour.
He tried his best not to swear in front of them as they grew up (still doesn’t swear at all in their presence), but at some point he just gave up on scolding them for it. So while on patrol, he’ll just sigh every time Jason screams “motherfucker!” into the comms, but back in the mansion may god help them if Alfred hears them.
Ever since Dick was a kid he started carrying snacks with him on patrol. Nowadays he needs to be prepared and carry all the specific varieties they like. (He forgot Dick’s mini cereal bags once and he still can’t hear the end of it).
I personally think he would let the public think all the kids are his bio kids. Gotham thinks he’s just really an idiot when it comes to birth control, because surely all those black haired, blue eyed children are his. (The only ones whose parentage is truly questioned are Duke and Damian, but as he grows up Damian looks more and more like Bruce so the speculation dies down).
As a follow up, at first people tried to claim they were pregnant with his kid, but actually it was the Wayne children who shut it down by unsubtly implying all of them were planned and wanted, not accidents. (Which is technically true…)
He may be give Tired Dad energy 90% of the time, but there’s a reason all his kids are insane, reckless, diabolical little terrors. They learnt to be THAT overdramatic from him.
Like, come on. Bruce “I dress as a bat to beat up clowns” Wayne, a responsible and sensible adult?
HA.
He’s always excited to receive AND give gifts to his family. Half the time he just receives drawings of bats, exactly one sock with a silly pattern, or a cheap scented candle from the dollar store but you can bet your ass he treasures every last one of them.
Because of how much he spoils his own kids, he cannot be left unsupervised with anyone else’s children. (Too many times has this warning been ignored— Wally’s still salty that Barry dragged him back home. Jon has his own bedroom in the mansion)
He may have difficulties with accepting he has emotions but he loves all his kids just the same and he never regrets becoming a dad, even if do drive him mad sometimes.
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groovinrightalong · 18 days
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Alright, as promised, here are some ✨married Byler/Byler dads headcanons✨
A little preface that this is specifically for my transmasc Mike headcanons, so it’s not necessarily canon compliant, it’s pretty much just MY older byler AU so if it’s not your cup of tea you can just scroll along. Brief mentions of being a seahorse dad and a heads up right now that transphobia will get you an IMMEDIATE block:)
Now that that’s over with!
-Mike and Will get married at some point in the early 90s. Mike doesn’t get his birth certificate changed until some point in the 2000s, so legally he’s considered female, and you better believe they take advantage of it. He’s like at least three or four years on hormones by the time they get married but they’re just like :D yes we’re a straight couple I love my wife :D
-Bonus points if Will wears a dress for the wedding
-They get a dog pretty much as soon as they move in together. Will loves dogs (Mike’s more of a cat person but he adores the way Will’s face lights up when he sees them) and she’s probably a birthday present from Mike to Will. They like to joke that she’s their child, they bring her along to family picnics and events. Joyce and Jonathan are obsessed with her, she reminds them of Chester.
-Mike grows up to be an author! He makes a decent living between selling his books and a gig working at the local library, and Will does some graphic design. He doesn’t particularly like how regimented it is, he prefers doing art for the love of it, and he gets his chance when they’re early to mid 40s because Mike’s books start to get really popular and they can live off that income. Will then pretty much just does the art for the covers and works as a freelance artist. Gloats about being a trophy husband.
-They spend the first decade of their marriage just being the cool uncles for Jancy’s kid, always stopping in for surprise visits because they all moved to a bigger city within a decent distance from each other. Mike likes to buy the kid gifts he knows will piss off his sister, like water guns and play dough that’ll get stuck everywhere. He’ll sneak them candy, pick them up from daycare to take them out for the day. He’s a nuisance.
-Will aids in the schemes, but obviously he’s Jonathan’s baby brother so he’s the good one and Mike is the bad influence😇 And then the kid learns their first curse word from him when he accidentally slips up in front of them and he never hears the end of it.
-He’s really soft and happy with them though, and Mike obviously notices. Mike’s sort of iffy on if he wants any kids but he can tell Will does even if he won’t say anything.
-They adopt their son in like early 2002/2003. His bio mom was really young. They keep in contact with her, send her pictures and updates. His name’s Sam! (Short for Samwise. Because they’re fucking nerds.)
-They end up with two kids. Their daughter’s only six or seven months younger than Sam because hey y’all testosterone is NOT birth control. She pretty much looks like a mini Joyce, her name’s Gwen. (Gwendolyn. Like I said, NERDS.)
-Their kids kind of have a similar dynamic to Will and El because they’re so close in age, they’re always in the same grades, etc. People jokingly call them the twins.
-Nancy takes her revenge by doing pretty much the same thing Mike did with her kid with the twins. She’ll sneak them treats, get them sugared up when they’re at her house then send them home. Sam thinks she’s the coolest person EVER (much to Mike’s horror)
-Gwen’s nonverbal. As a toddler, Sam talked for her pretty much all the time. She never said her first word, was really quiet and reserved, and it worried them obviously. But then they were like, oh wait, let’s try sign language (Mike has times where he’s pretty much totally nonverbal too so they already know a decent amount) and as soon as she figures it out she’s talking to them all the time. She’s super high energy and between her and her brother, they get into a LOT of trouble (Mike’s first gray hair comes in when he’s like 34😭)
-She also has a bit of a sixth sense! It’s mostly to do with the supernatural (which isn’t really an issue since the gates are all closed now… right?) but sometimes she’d react to something right before it happened and it would freak her parents out. Will has it too, but he’s so used to it now that he doesn’t really notice it? And Mike’s just like oh well that’s just how he is it’s not weird. It’s a… lot freakier when it’s a toddler.
-(Bonus!! Jonathan, Nancy, Mike, Will, and the kids all have the last name Hopper. Hop adopted Jonathan and Will and they changed their names to match him and their mom and El because FUCK Lonnie.)
I have lots more thoughts but this is going on really long and just🫠 Yeah. Byler dads.
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onboardsorasora · 2 months
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34 year old Daniel in the 90s is basking in his parents love and teasing Michelle. A part of him doesn’t want to return to 2024 because he hasn’t been able to be home like this since he was 17 and left for Italy
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Decided to hop to it lmao. for you bestie!
De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | De- Aged Daniel Pt 5 | De-Aged Daniel Part 6 | De-Aged Daniel Part 7 | De-Aged Daniel Part 8 | De-Aged Daniel Part 9 | De-Aged Daniel Part 10 |
Daniel sat in the far corner of the breakfast nook watching with soft eyes as his mother went about preparing lunch. It had come as a shock; one minute he was putting on his race boots to jump into the sim and the next he was standing in the yard. 
His father had come running immediately, having seen it all happen. How his five year old self had been cycling around the yard before he– well no one really knew how it happened, but Daniel was standing there instead. He’d bitten back the joke about thankfully being fully clothed, he didn’t think his parents would have appreciated it.
It had been very emotional. Very surprising. Michelle had run away to her room– fair. Grace had cried immediately, pulling him into a tight hug. Joe had stared at him with something akin to pride. 
Now Daniel sat in the kitchen reeling off random facts about the future. Things he always told himself he’d remember to tell his parents if he ever got sent back to the past.
“Oh, invest in Apple. They probably aren’t on the stock exchange now but when they pop up– trust me.” He sipped his tea as Grace laughed.
“How about you tell us other things than insider trading.” Joe grinned.
“Well, what do you want to know?” Daniel put his mug down with a clank.
“I know there’s a bunch of shite you’re not allowed to tell us. But what’s there to know about grown up Daniel Ricciardo? Your accent is different, did you move away?”
“Actually,” Daniel smiled softly. “Yeah I did. I became a formula one driver. And I needed to move to Italy to do it.”
Daniel felt his chest warm at the shock on his parents’ face, how they looked him over carefully as if taking in this new information and trying to see how such a high paced career would have changed him from their precious baby boy.
“Well I’ll be damned.” Joe muttered, “thats fucking amazing. For which team? Ferrari?”
“Well no, they never officially gave me a contract. But– well my team doesn’t exist yet. But they’re fast, currently the world champions. I won 7 races with them.” Daniel smiled proudly when Grace came over to hug him tightly.
“I’m so proud of you baby waby.” 
Daniel felt his chest clench and tears spring to his eyes. He hadn’t heard that endearment in so long, it brought back memories of wonderful times.
“I love you too mummy wummy.” his voice cracked when he said it and Grace held him tighter. When she finally let go, Daniel got up to clutch Joe tightly. Not one to go without his father’s hugs, he didn’t see why he should start now.
“Gosh, I miss you guys.” Daniel muttered. Grace frowned.
“Do you spend a lot of time away?”
“Too much. You guys come to some races too, but– it's still a lot of travel at the end of the day.” He had to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning Isaac and Isabella.
“Where were you before you Exchanged?” Joe asked after a bit.
“Oh I was at work, so little me is probably with Blake right now. Poor sucker, he has to deal with adult me and little me. I hope I terrorize him a little.” Daniel giggled, thinking about all the chaos his small counterpart could be unleashing right now on his long time friend.
“Don’t be mean, you weren’t that terrorizing.” Grace would never hear a slight against her baby, not even from him himself.
“They say it's not always an even exchange, you seek out what makes you most comfortable. So if not Blake, where would you go?” Joe asked and they watched as Daniel grow soft and bite his lip.
“Max. Probably.” 
“Who’s Max?”
“He’s… everything.”
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You Had to Be There to Get It
Summay: Thomas knows that he sometimes relates to different sides for different reasons, but this situation is a new one.
...
Fine, Thomas would admit it.  Therapy was a good idea that he definitely should have tried sooner.  Sure, it was uncomfortable at first, when they were getting to know each other, but Emile was an excellent choice and Thomas clicked with him really well, and he started realizing some things as they talked.
He probably was too hard on himself, for one.  He needed to sit and let himself be sometimes instead of constantly trying to be the best person he possibly could.  He definitely had some issues with trying to make creative ideas too perfect and good and pure (Thomas could still feel Roman’s cathartic ache from that realization, and Remus’ vindication).  He was really bad at not knowing, and sometimes he had to sit in the uncertainty (Logan hadn’t liked that one, but he’d felt Patton’s relief).  And a recent realization as to how much growing up where and how he did had actually affected him.  Turns out being a gay catholic kid growing up in Florida in the 90s can have a tendency to make a kid feel a bit unwanted.  Who knew?
Thomas had a feeling he was going to be unpacking his feelings around that one for a while, especially considering it even started in a surprising place.
“I don’t understand,” Logan said as they walked back into Thomas’ apartment.  He had been talking about it the entire way home, and Thomas honestly didn’t quite understand why.  He thought the issue had been pretty settled in therapy, and for once, he didn’t quite get where Logan was coming from.
“That time of your life was so long ago,” Logan said.  “You have supportive friends and family now, you have a relatively stable career, you’re comfortable with who you are.  Why would that still be having such an impact on you?”
“It’s childhood, Lo,” Virgil mumbled, though for some reason he wasn’t meeting Logan’s eyes.  “It kind of affects you for the rest of your life, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I’m kind of with Teach on this one,” Roman said.  “As much as I loathe to admit it.  Yes, Thomas was a very repressed kid, but aren’t we past that now?  I mean, you’re not closeted anymore.  You can’t be trying to tell me you want to be.”
“No,” Thomas said, closing and locking the door behind him.  “But Roman, it was— it was very hard for me.  Okay?  You know that, don’t you?  You were there.”
“Yes, obviously it was,” Roman said.  “But still.  That was a long time ago.”
“It was,” Patton agreed.  “But that doesn’t mean Thomas can’t still be upset about it, even if it doesn’t seem to make sense.  Besides, repressing our feelings hasn’t really gone well in the past, remember?”
“But these feelings don’t make any sense,” Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses.  “Yes, Thomas had a difficult time feeling unwanted as a child.  We all know this, we were all there.  But we’ve moved past that now.  And honestly, it wasn’t really that bad, was it?”
“Easy for you all to say,” Virgil snapped suddenly, glaring over at all of them.  They gave him a surprised look back, and Thomas, despite himself, did the same.
“Virge?” he said.  “You okay?”
Virgil glared away and grumbled something.
“What was that?” Thomas asked.
“I said they don’t get it,” Virgil said, glaring back at him.  “It’s not— oh, nevermind.  They still won’t get it.”
“What are you talking about?” Roman said.  “Of course we get it.  We were there?”
“No you weren’t,” Virgil said, crossing his arms.  “He was.”  He nods at Thomas.
All of them looked at Virgil for a second, and Thomas found himself doing the same, not quite sure what Virgil was getting at.
“Virgil,” Logan said, giving him a baffled look.  “We are all part of him.  Have you somehow forgotten this?”
Virgil, however, just looked at Thomas.  “See?” he said, like they were both in on something.  “Told you they wouldn’t get it.”
Thomas blinked at him.  “I… I don’t get it either, Virgil,” he admitted hesitantly.
“Virgey’s tryin’ to say,” came a sudden voice, and Thomas felt elbows suddenly leaning on his forehead before Remus leaned upside down into his face.  “That they’ve never been unwanted.”
“Did you miss the part where I just explained that we’re all part of Thomas?” Logan said with a sigh.
“Yes, but Thomas isn’t part of Thomas,” came Janus’ voice, and all of them looked over to find him on the couch.
Remus brightened at his appearance, and bounded over to flop back on top of him instead, which at least freed Thomas’ head from his elbows.
Logan threw his hands up.  “And you people wonder why I find it difficult to speak with you,” he said.  “‘Thomas isn’t part of Thomas?’  What in the world does that even mean?”
“He means,” Virgil snapped, and Thomas turned to him again, more than a little surprised to find Virgil defending Janus.  “That Thomas always wanted you.  So no, Logan, none of you get what it feels like to be an outcast.”
Thomas’ eyes widened as it finally clicked what Virgil was saying, and he looked between him and Remus and Janus.  Janus was currently in the process of moving Remus off of his lap, but Remus was looking right at Thomas, surprisingly not smiling.
“That’s ridiculous,” Roman scoffed.  “We all have Thomas’ experience.  We remembered what happened.  We know what it’s like.”
“Oh you know what it’s like?” Remus said, sitting up off of Janus himself, though he still flopped back on the couch as he crossed his arms.  “You ever sit up at night wondering why no one seems to like you, why you don’t have any friends?  You ever wonder why the things you do seem to be just a little too weird, just a little too off for them to be acceptable?  You ever look around at everyone else going on with their happy childhoods, knowing with certainty they’re cared for by the people around them, and wonder what you’re doing wrong?  Why don’t you get to have that?  What’s different about you?  Why is it fair that they don’t want you around?  You know what, you say to yourself, if they don’t want you, you don’t want them either.  What’s so great about them?  You’re going to be weird and own it!  Maybe you decide to join a counterculture, have an emo phase,” he gestured at Virgil who glared at him but then looked away without denying it, “try and go where all the other misfits are, because clearly you’re not wanted anywhere else.  You ever feel that overwhelming relief when you finally find someone who likes you for you, wants you because you’re weird?  Ever have to fight the instinct to hang on to that person for dear life, because you don’t know if they want you as badly as you want them, and if they don’t and you drive them away by being desperate you’re going to hate yourself because then you will have nothing and no one and this time it will be all your fault?  Ever have to spend time after time after time reassuring yourself that this time it’s real, that these people want you around, and still not be sure, even after, say, a decade and a half of being an adult and actually having friends that want you?”
Remus spread his arms with a wide grin as all of them stared at him.  “Because I have!” he said.  “And Janus has and Virgil has!”  Then he pointed over at Thomas, who was pretty sure he was breaking a little inside.  “And Thomas has,” he said.  “Have you?  Mr. Golden Boy?  Mr. Suburban Dad?  Mr. Respectable Teacher?”
“I,” Thomas said, before any of the others could say something.  Remus and Janus and Virgil all turned to look at him.
“I really made you guys feel like that too?” he asked, because Remus had just hit the emotion that he’d been feeling and that none of his core sides had been able to articulate square on the head.
“It’s okay, Thomas,” Janus said instantly, sitting up.
“Says my Deceit,” Thomas said, looking at him, and Janus swallowed but didn’t say anything else.
Thomas reached out and took Virgil gently by the arm, and then pulled him over towards the couch, where he sat down on the other side of Remus and pulled all three of them into a hug.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, looking around at all of them.
There was a moment where none of them said anything.
“S’okay,” Remus said finally, and Thomas got the sense that he was closer to meaning it.  “Wouldn’t want to be anyone else.”
Thomas gave him a small smile.  “Me too,” he said, and Remus beamed at him.
“Good,” Remus said.  “‘Cause I’ve been trying to get you to give less fucks for years.  It’s not so bad, remember?”
Thomas smiled a little wider.  “Yeah,” he said, because even though Logan had said the same thing, Remus clearly meant it from a very different place, and Thomas liked that place better.
“The world fucks everyone up,” Virgil muttered, and Thomas glanced down at him.  “Either you’re never wanted or you’re terrified of losing it when you are or you’re an entitled prick that makes people feel unwanted in the first place.”
“Yes, those are in fact the only three options,” Janus said, rolling his eyes.
“They are when you’re a gay Catholic kid growing up in Florida in the 90s,” Virgil said.
Janus smiled a little.  “Or the repressed survival instincts of a person’s subconscious,” he said.
“I’d rather make a new option,” Thomas said, and Janus looked back over at him.  “Wanna help?”
Janus smiled a little wider.  “Sounds dreadful,” he said.
The four of them sat there for another minute, and then Thomas glanced up at Patton Roman and Logan, all of whom were standing across the room looking a little lost.
“It’s okay if you want to join the hug anyway,” Thomas said.  “You don’t have to get it.”
Another second passed, and then Patton smiled a little and walked forward to sit on Janus’ other side, followed hesitantly by Roman, who took Virgil’s other side, and Logan, who walked over and stood nearby until Roman pulled him down.
Thomas stayed in between Virgil and Remus and Janus, however, because he was pretty sure the three of them did understand when something wasn’t for them for the moment, and Thomas wanted to get as close as he could to hugging his inner child, that lost little kid version of himself.
And maybe it was high time he gave that same inner child a little more grace.
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xaharadesert · 10 months
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Greetings! I'm rereading your headcanons for the Arcana, and they're all very well-written and interesting. I wonder, do you have any ideas about how MC and Asra grew close and started a romantic relationship before the plague? No pressure if you don't feel like answering.
Hello!! I’m so glad you enjoy my headcanons :) even if I don’t write as much as I used to, I’m proud of my work. Based on your message, I wasn’t sure if you were asking for headcanons or just my thoughts, so I’m going with the latter, but feel free to submit another request if it was actually the first one!
So, as usual, I’m gonna add a little disclaimer stating that I haven’t played the game in a very long time, and can’t really remember what’s canon vs fanon, so forgive me if I say something that’s just blatantly wrong. Also, I’m referring to Asra using he/him just to differentiate them from the MC, who I’m referring to with they/them, and I am aware that Asra uses he/they.
Anyway, the game itself gives us very little to work with in terms of MC’s backstory with Asra (obviously so people can fill it in how they please), but I do believe that it’s canon that the shop used to belong to MC’s aunt?
In my mind, I always imagined that MC’s aunt was a semi-well-known magic user, and MC left their home to study with her and learn magic and such. They probably worked at the shop as well, since they lived there and it would be a bit rude not to help out.
Now, this is where I’m essentially just making things up: I believe that Asra and MC bumped into each other a lot without ever really having a proper introduction in the first few months. I’m not sure if there’s any indication about what Asra was doing after his parents disappeared, but I’m like 90% certain he was just homeless and making money by running errands or doing tricks/small spells/tarot readings for people. So, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that they casually saw each other around when MC was exploring or running errands for their aunt.
When it comes to a proper introduction, my mind is split between a cliché meet-cute where they literally run into each other, a curious MC seeking out Asra because they think he’s mysterious and therefore must find answers, or MC’s aunt hiring Asra as part-time help. Either way, it definitely starts as a casual friendship between two magic users who feel a little out of place, with Asra absolutely working at or spending a lot of time at the shop.
Over time, I think the two would naturally grow closer as they harness their magical abilities together. Asra has found a place that feels like home, and MC has found their first close friend in a new country. I think it would be a little co-dependent from the start, given Asra’s unfortunate circumstances, and MC becoming the owner of their aunt’s shop (it’s never confirmed, but personally I believe that the aunt died and left a young mc to take over).
At some point, after the aunt was gone, Asra would move into the shop (it’s practical, even if it’s only platonic, since he works there and MC is probably a little lonely), and while things might not be completely romantic, feelings are probably developing. I always imagined MC and Asra to be around the same age, so they’re probably young adults at this point, and still figuring things out, but they know that they want to be together in some way.
I don’t think there’s a clear line that can be drawn between “before” they loved each other romantically and “after”. Like, yeah, there’s a first kiss, but it doesn’t feel like a giant momentous moment, it’s just a casual action that feels completely natural. Neither of them probably even process it as the first time, and wouldn’t remember it later, because it just fits. And if you’re thinking about the first “I love you”, then I hate to disappoint, but I believe they always said it platonically, so neither really registers when it becomes romantic.
At least in my opinion, Asra and MC are the ultimate best friends to lovers, and it happens like a frog in a boiling pot of water. They don’t even realize that they’re in a committed relationship until MC dies and Asra finds them back at square one. Then he’s like “oh fuck how do I recreate 6 years when I don’t even know how it happened?” Falling in love and being with each other every day was as natural to them as breathing, and having that relationship stripped away suddenly must have felt like being dropped into ice water.
Anyway, those are my basic thoughts! Not very detailed, because, really, there is no canon backstory! This isn’t even what I use for my OC MC, it’s just the vibes I picked up when I first played through :) let me know what you think, and what you would change! Also please let me know if there are any mistakes, because I typed this all out on my phone at 1am and just kinda rambled without thinking
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bluedalahorse · 10 months
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wlw in the sad swedish teens show: some thoughts
I’m going to share some stedrika thoughts, not as a meta, just as a kind of… sharing of my unsolicited personal opinions. There was a thread going around with some idea-provoking discussion, but I also feel like I’d be hijacking said thread if I weighed in. So I figured it was better to make my own post and chat there.
So I’m aro ace, but I also kind of identify with the label sapphic. I’m more gray ace than full ace, and that grayness of ace identity is 90% of the time directed toward women. I was in a romantic-sexual partnership with a woman for 2.5 years before figuring more things out. (Also, my ex was pretty toxic, so there was that.) I attended a single-sex college, continue to hang in groups of women today, and just generally exist in a social culture that leans more sapphic/wlw, homosocial, and ace. Probably the most masculinity-dominated experiences I have are logging onto my dash and watching fandom interaction that is a lot more mlm-focused than the rest of my life.
In the gap between seasons 1 and 2, I wasn’t hoping for stedrika as my wlw representation. I was hoping we would get gay or bi or ace or otherwise queer Felice. It isn’t too hard to make up a queer narrative for Felice. She connects with Wilhelm, who’s also figuring himself out, and we know how it is with the queer kids all finding one another even before they fully understand themselves what’s going on. Felice’s pursuit of Wilhelm and then pivoting to August also feels like she’s hitting the two ends of the spectrum of compulsory heterosexuality. Wilhelm is that nice, approachable boy where it’s easy to convince yourself you have a crush on him, because who wouldn’t? Also he’s a prince! August is that guy where you’re like “well if the idea of dating men is generally unpleasant all around, then dating the most unpleasant one is doing heterosexuality right, isn’t it?” Felice’s mom also puts a lot of pressure on her about boys (and that line about whose babies are royal feels like it’s something Felice would have been told growing up) in a way where you can parallel it to Kristina putting pressure on Wilhelm. There’s a lot of good queer and wlw material to work with for Felice! And I’m glad fandom hasn’t entirely given up on that, even if it doesn’t seem like canon is going that direction. (Send me your gay Felice fics where she’s the center of the story, btw. Send themmmm.)
Stedrika as wlw representation brushes up against the archetype of two femme best friends who are also roommates, one of whom is secretly pining for the other, one of whom may or may not be pining back. That archetype in its requited form is… not my favorite wlw archetype. I don’t mean I hate it, but I do mean I’m pretty “meh” about it. I read a lot of YA fiction, for both personal enjoyment and career reasons. Best-friends-to-lovers wlw comes up a lot, especially in stories where a wlw couple isn’t the center of the story. It can be enjoyable for me, if the characterization is complex enough overcome the trope itself. But I can’t help noticing how many mlm YA stories let a boy crush on the hot new boy, or someone outside his usual social circle, whereas the message for girls is “the one for you has been near you all along! Girls achieve an adventure by clicking their heels and saying There’s No Place Like Home!”
I understand that the sapphic girl with a crush on her bestie is a trope that has some basis in reality, and for some folks it can be really empowering to see those kinds of pairs get a Happily Ever After together. I also think it can be empowering for the female character with the sapphic crush to come to the realization (either through rejection or other circumstances) that her bestie isn’t going to like her back that way, but she does understand herself better now. And she’s going to use that knowledge to build herself up and explore new values and seek out new wlw relationships and join the queer revolution. Hahaha you can tell what sort of storyline I prefer. Truth be told I would be more interested in a story where Fredrika doesn’t requite Stella’s feelings and Stella has to reinvent herself than I would a story where suddenly they love each other. I’m sure the YR writing team would make the latter interesting too, but if they gave me a choice between the latter and the former and promised they would be equally well written, I’d pick the latter.
Here’s the other thing about stedrika. I don’t entirely find them boring. I do like them! This is going to sound like me being a problematic queer, maybe, but… I like the fact that they’re mean. Not in a “you go girl!” sort of way where I’m cheering on their meanness and tendency to gossip. I don’t want them to stay mean. But I do find it interesting that Stella at least is hiding some part of her authentic self, and she and Fredrika haven’t gotten to discuss something honestly, and the price they pay is lashing out at others for their authenticity, especially their authenticity around romantic feelings. I think there’s some interesting narrative questions to explore then, in terms of how do you learn to embrace others and yourself? What toll does it take, being closeted? How do you empower yourself within structures that are harming you—is hurting other people going to do it? Like gosh, that’s a whole character arc! I also think it’s really interesting how Lisa and the writing team have addressed the role that misogyny and assumptions around sex and physicality play in oppressing wlw queer folks. Like that whole discussion around what counts as “real sex” and losing one’s virginity that we see at Sara’s birthday sleepover. That was interesting to see play out onscreen and I’m glad they went there! (Send me your fics about messy stedrika, send themmmm. Send these girls on some kind of journey.)
Anyway, I’m also glad that stedrika is not the only wlw representation we have in Young Royals. Because we also have Rosh, who I absolutely adore with every fiber of my being. Rosh isn’t white or upper class, and she’s more tomboyish and comparatively less femme. She talks about her rebound after dating Yasmin/Yasmina, and there’s this wonderful sapphic chaos quality to it. She’s an openly queer girl in a best friendship with an openly queer boy, and you can tell that she and Simon lean on one another and probably came out to one another in middle school. (I think I have read this fic a few times, but I will always read more of it!) I love Rosh’s sense of justice and how committed she is to athletics and making sure Simon succeeds on the rowing team even if, as we all know, rowing isn’t a sport. Overall Rosh feels very specific and that makes her very real. Also I can’t resist a confident soccer lesbian, obviously I imprinted on Keira Knightly and Parminder Nagra in Bend It Like Beckham like every other queer girl born in the late 1980s.
Anyway. I actually think YR has a ton to offer us in terms of potential wlw representation, and interesting stories and characters that can be explored. (It has a lot to offer us in terms of female characters, period. I wish I had the time and fandom knowhow to create a female character centered ficathon. Is there any interest out there?)
The weird thing is I don’t know if I would feel confident writing this post at all if I hadn’t put in over 100k words of effort in fanfic for this fandom, most of it from female characters’ POVs. Some of that is het, sure, but I’m really, really proud of the sapphic self-discovery arc we gave Felice in Heart and Homeland. We let her struggle with her feelings at a time when she didn’t have the vocabulary for her feelings. We let Felice have a 19th century romantic friendship with Sara while also having sex and romances with other women, because lesbians can do both dammit. We let her kiss other women on the page, and do additional things beyond kissing also on the page. She was the first character we upped our rating to M for! We let her have friends-with-benefits hookups (because wlw characters shouldn’t always have to meet their forevergirl in their first girl) and we’re developing a new relationship in the upcoming chapters. (Okay, we did accidentally erase stedrika, because we wrote the first 19 chapters of our fic before season 2, and made occasional blink-and-you-miss-it references to a Stella/Henry sideplot. But let’s just say additional things are happening in the coming chapters.) I’m really happy with Felice’s storyline. I’m also happy that for a long time, I was the kid in fandom sighing and wishing there was more femslash, while feeling bad bad because I hadn’t written any myself. But now I have, and it feels a bit like achieving a Life Goal. I’m proud of myself!
And if you want to write femslash of your own, but you’ve always been a little scared or unsure of how to start? Hi. I’ll be your sounding board and your biggest cheerleader, if you want that. Tell me and we’ll have a lot of fun planning and writing! I BELIEVE IN YOU AND YOU ARE AMAZING.
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korokeea · 1 month
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♬ ♪ 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬! ♪ ♬
by me >:)
15 of them, enjoy!
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1, she can’t swim. No agrument. She lived in a state home, went to Arizona (in the MIDDLE OF A DESERT), and definitely did not go swimming while with Cam. So I highly doubt she can properly swim? Maybe the basics but not the full on swimming against rough waves.
2, can’t kiss. I wrote this in an ask because I had been re-reading Unbound Unfinished Symphony and she literally had no interest in any guy so her first kiss was probably with Connor and even that wasn’t even a kiss, it was like a peck. So she most likely learned by herself or by Connor.
3, she definitely still moves her fingers in her sleep like how she did in the state home from hours of playing piano. And to the people who think she forgot how to play, she’s been playing since she was little so I again doubt it. And because it played such a huge role in her growing up, she holds onto it as a way of coping because she genuinely likes it + muscle memory.
4, she’s constantly paranoid. She probably searches an entire room to make sure it’s safe before sleeping. Anything Connor does freaks her the hell out thinking he’ll injury himself. Also, she’s probably hella protective of Connor. Going somewhere? Cool, she’s coming with you.
5, she keeps habits. I feel like once she gets something, she doesn’t drop it or give it up. And with her slight stubborn personality, I feel like the suits her. Of course they wouldn’t be any bad habits, but they’d be simple things that she probably picked up while staying at the state home or Graveyard.
6, HIGHLY DOUBT she smokes or drinks. Maybe once in a while with Connor but she’s not the type to pick on bad habits such as things that lead to addictions. I feel like she takes care of herself, both mentally and physically and wouldn’t put herself in a bad place.
!!!!!!!NSFW!!!!!!!
7, she sucks at sex. The most she’ll do is lie there and look pretty while Connor does the work. JK KINDA!! I feel like she wouldn’t be a pro, but she also wouldn’t be the worst. I feel like should stop once in a while and then continue after she takes breather or something. And then after she acts all exhausted and worn out so Connor will cuddle and kiss her (as she should!!) Anything involving doing something to Connor she’s the best but to herself she sucks.
(all done, continue sfw)
8, her fashion sense is far too good. I feel like she wouldn’t wear too much exposing clothing, such as deep cut tank tops or crop tops. She’s the type to wear an old baggy shirt she found buried deep into a Goodwill that someone lost in the 90s and pair it with jeans or sweatpants. You wouldn’t catch her dead in shorts. Also, she’s most definitely a converse gal, rocking those things until they wither off.
9, bilingual queen!! First of all, even though we never see her speaking another language, she’s incredibly experienced in music which involves reading notes which helps the brain pick up on translating symbols, which can also improve language. Connecting into Unconfirmed, while in the Mediterranean, I bet she speaks Greek and had to teach Connor.
10, HER ASS IS NOT HAVING 7 KIDS. She’ll have one at most and cherish that thing like her mother wouldn’t do to her. It almost definitely be a girl and some stupid name like Sarah or something and would look EXACTLY LIKE CONNOR. Like the living, breathing female version of Connor. When the baby was born it was obvious who she belonged to.
11, kinda a Connor headcannon but she would get called the dumbest pet names by him. Like the ones you would call your friend. Only when he’s being serious will you actually call her something like babe, honey, or something. Also, for some reason I feel like jokingly he would call her Ri-Ri. Just to make her stare at him and complete confusion. Other than that I feel like they wouldn’t use too much pet names, unless they’re joking with each other. They would mostly just use their actual names.
12, she definitely sings in the shower. Heard sick song playing on the radio? Cool! Now it’s stuck in her head all day and it’s only when she goes into the shower can she sing her heart out (funny).
13, she definitely steals some of Connor clothes. Just for fun so when she walks by in his hoodie it makes him rethink whether it’s his or hers after a couple of minutes of talking, he suddenly forgets that it’s completely his and thinks that it’s hers.
14, I feel like she had no interest in finding out who her father or mother was. Because of her deep connection with Connor, I felt like she had no desire to learn about her parents whatsoever, even when Cam mentioned that he could find them. I think it was that moment that she realized that Connor was the only person that she really cared for and loved by him being by her side.
15, while at the Graveyard they probably didn’t even officially say they were dating to each other. Like they didn’t sit down and have a conversation about why they should date they just kind of started doing it.
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and that’s it! hope u guys enjoyed it. <3
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fruitycatnoir · 1 year
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another opinions post because aster has inspired me
TW MY OPINION
i strongly believe that in like at least 90% of every disney show, the show just goes downhill after season 3
for example, liv and maddie: cali style. one of my friends on instagram who has a liv and maddie account doesn’t post about season 4 because she hates it. she even has a pinned post of a small set of reasons why she hates it so much (and understandably so.) i mean, the dad left the show, diggie and maddie are together, they’re not in stevens point, wisconsin anymore? i like dina and ruby, don’t get me wrong, but like, cali style was so so bad
another example, someone’s going to crucify me for this one, is austin and ally. growing up, i had a HUGE crush on ross/austin, and for a bit, i hated the ship auslly. a few years later, i made a whole fanpage for auslly. now, i still like ross and A&A, but as for the ship, i’m neutral. anyway, in season 4, sonic boom changed to A&A music factory, austin’s hair was long?? EW? and it just wasn’t as enjoyable as seasons 1-3. also jace and trish didn’t end up together, excuse me? idk man i just never really liked season 4 of A&A
jessie is probably the only exception to this. all 4 seasons of jessie i loved.
good luck charlie i feel like is debatable. it was an interesting and fun 4 seasons, BUT, spencer and teddy should have NEVER gotten back together. i rest my case
hannah montana is also debatable. again with the ex’s, jake was in the picture (thank the GODS she and him didn’t end up together, i would have thrown hands). i like them being in a different place, i like lily living with them, but i do miss the old house they used to live in, and especially rico’s little shop (or whatever it’s called.)
did suite life on deck make it to 4 seasons? i don’t even remember
wizards of waverly place i think had a good season 4, especially the finale. i like the fact that mason and alex ended up together, juliet and justin ended up together, and both justin and alex got to keep their powers. i feel like max deserved more than the sub station but he did seem ecstatic about that i won’t complain
this one’s gonna hurt me like hell, but, lab rats. you guys know i love this show. it’s my favorite, it’s my comfort show, but i’m not gonna lie, i try to avoid bionic island when i’m watching it. it’s just not as fun as the other seasons. like, tasha isn’t really there, sometimes douglas is there more than donald, sebastian is there (yes this is a sebastian and sebase slander page), they started to make chase more annoying, and they’re not in mission creek anymore. i just think that season 4 of lab rats is my least favorite. i even like elite force better, and we all know how badly they wrote elite force
ravens home, bunk’d (even after season 2), those shows need to just stop. please.
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whiskey-bumblebee · 2 years
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hotch headcanons
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader Warnings: College!Hotch, Dad!Hotch, mild angst, Haley and Jack don’t exist, smoking, Christianity A/N: A combination of some thoughts I had just now and my personal headcanons for his character. Mostly college and dad hotch!
-Coming of age in Seattle in the 90s, he was a big fan of the local rock music scene, which included such artists as Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Candlebox, the Foo Fighters, Pearl Jam.... He was definitely into the counter-culture!
-Which would have made him the butt of a lot of loving jokes I think, this guy in law school, normally pretty professional and clean-cut, but by night, he’s in the grungiest, dirtiest bars, singing along to songs like Lithium, wearing band tees and letting his hair grow out a little longer as he gets more into it
-Did a minor in creative writing because he wanted a creative outlet and a break from all of the law/ethics/philosophy/history stuff (and his writing is pretty good! A little stilted at first because he wasn’t used to expressing his emotions, but better over time)
-He smoked pretty heavily during his college years (cigarettes and.... not cigarettes), and to this day, keeps a pack of cigarettes in his desk at work. He lets himself have three or four a year, saving them for occasions when his other coping mechanisms aren’t working.
-He was raised in the church, since he grew up in the South, and his spirituality is still important to him, but he doesn’t attend church regularly because he’s seen a lot of people do terrible things and justify it with their religion, and he finds churches generally aren’t progressive enough, especially in Virginia
-That being said, this man has definitely read most of the Bible, and his favourite chapter is Romans 13 because he feels like it speaks to his life; a career in law enforcement, trying to be righteous and do good, but ultimately, recognizing that love, not vengeance, is the most important way to carry out God’s will 
-On a completely different note, he hasn’t had a lot of close female friendships or relationships in his life, so when you have a daughter, you have to start at square one and teach him everything. What to expect when she grows up, how to talk to her about her body in a positive way, all those important parenting things that he didn’t realize would be different from raising a boy
-There are smaller things you teach him too, like how to do her hair, how to paint her nails, how to pick clothes in colours that work together (because let’s be honest; this man has lived in shades of grey/navy/black for a while now)
-Every single morning, like clockwork, he presses a kiss to the top of her head before he drops her off at daycare, or before he leaves for work and you drop her off, or before he leaves you both for a work trip. The tradition starts as soon as he finishes his paternity leave and goes back to work, and lasts until she moves out of state for college
-He knows she’ll be safe, the two of you have taken every possible measure to ensure that your home is secure, her daycare is safe, the schools she attends are out of harm’s way, and she’s done age-appropriate self-defense training since she could walk. It’s probably overkill, but Hotch would not have it any other way. He’s seen too much carnage in his life to trust the world with his baby girl.
-When Hotch explains one day that he’s not doing it to be clingy, but because he never knows what will happen during his work day, you can’t help but cry. He’s right, nothing is certain, but it breaks your heart nonetheless.
-Maybe a little controversial, but I think Hotch would definitely be pro co-sleeping. Although the first few months are rough, defined by sleepless nights and being woken up by the sound of tiny cries, he sleeps a little bit better knowing that if anything goes wrong, he’s in the room with her, and so are you.
-On the topic of the first few months, while the baby gets hungry several times a night, you realize you’ve married the right man. When you groan softly and start to sit up so you can feed her, Hotch touches your arm gently and whispers “I’ve got it,” and gets up to put some milk in the warmer. You can’t quite fall back asleep, so you watch Hotch in the nursing chair, rocking gently and shushing the baby quietly, stroking her head with his index finger. 
-When he sees you watching him, he smiles. You smile too, watching the man of your dreams rocking the baby you made together back to sleep, the bottle looking so tiny in his hands.
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quotesfrommyreading · 7 months
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For most people, discovering a frog living in your fence post would make you feel either kind of creeped out or kind of charmed. For one guy in Australia, it was a challenge: He decided to make it the sweetest pad possible. In a now-viral two-minute TikTok video, he designs and 3-D-prints his frog an elaborate home. He keeps adding features until the lucky amphibian has an attached pool, a downstairs mating pond with a tadpole ramp, and a predator-proof safe room.
This frog house was gleefully over the top, practically engineered to go viral with its renovations for “increased ribbit amplification” and a brushtail possum who occasionally likes to drink water from the pool. But frog houses as an idea are worth taking seriously. Animals don’t need much to get cozy in our backyards and balconies, as the world has already learned with birds. One ecologist found that bird feeding goes back at least 3,500 years; in the 18th century, the facades of Ottoman palaces and mosques were fitted with structures to house birds, who were seen as both holy and lucky. Birdhouses and bird feeders are so thoroughly part of human culture that purple martins in eastern North America nest almost exclusively in houses made by humans.
But why do birds get all the love? Building a little house for a frog to shelter in, or a pond where eggs can hatch and tadpoles can grow, is a great idea if you’ve got a place to put it. Even a tiny pondlet in a container on a patio can raise a whole amphibian generation. You can provide meaningful help to animals that need it, and participate in species conservation at home with very few downsides. Honestly, creating a backyard pond is probably better than putting up a birdhouse. Will someone please think of the urban amphibian?
Birds are beautiful, and they sing—it is no wonder we have long welcomed them into human spaces. At some level, it doesn’t even feel like sharing space, because birds live up high, in trees and on rooftops and telephone wires. They get the sky, and we get the land. Seems fair. But frogs? Inviting them into the garden can make you feel uneasy. Whereas birds are “so obvious and so charismatic,” Erin Sauer, an ecologist at the University of Arkansas who has studied both urban birds and urban amphibians, told me, frogs are “cryptic” and “camouflaged”—“they don't want you to find them.” Many frogs in temperate zones, including much of the United States, are brown and green, and more active at night. They are a subtle pleasure, compared with a crimson cardinal or an iridescent hummingbird.
It might not be obvious that some amphibians are probably living not too far from you, in part because they stay hidden. Frogs, newts, and salamanders exist in most cities. In New York, you can hear gray tree frogs call in Brooklyn Heights. In Los Angeles, the canyons of Griffith Park are filled with bumpy western toads. According to the biodiversity tracker iNaturalist, 28 species of amphibians have been spotted in Columbus, Ohio, including the colorful eastern red-backed salamander.
But amphibian populations are declining. Forty-one percent of amphibians are threatened with extinction, in part because of an ongoing fungal pandemic that as of four years ago had driven an estimated 90 species extinct. Frogs also have habitat needs that are “so specific,” Sauer said: They must have both water and land to complete their life cycle.
Still, if there are frogs near your home and some relatively protected route for them to travel, and you build a pond with vegetation around it, they will likely move in. An analysis of dozens of projects that created ponds for amphibians found that in every study, frogs showed up at some or all of the ponds. And many of the studies found that the number of species was similar or higher in created ponds than in natural ponds. Not all of those ponds were in cities, but another study looked at ponds in Portland, Oregon, and found similar results. The biggest predictor of how well a pond attracted frogs wasn’t whether it was real or fake, but the amount of plants growing in and around it.
Frog ponds aren’t very common residential features (yet), but it isn’t like no one thinks of amphibian-kind when designing their outdoor space. The U.S. Department of Agriculture has some advice for creating effective backyard conservation ponds for native wildlife. There are any number of guides online to building toad abodes, frog hotels, and general-purpose backyard frog ponds. Some gardeners install toad houses, hoping that a toad will move in and pay rent by eating common garden pests. You can even buy handmade toad houses on Etsy. And naturally, TikTok Frog House Guy is now selling frog houses as well.
It can be simple, and cheap, to invite amphibians over to your place. Tree frogs love to hang out inside vertical tubes, so simply pounding a few PVC pipes into the ground can create a little frog hotel. Building a cozy house for toads can be as easy as half-burying a broken pot. Making a frog pond is as straightforward as digging a hole; setting a commercial pond liner, an old bathtub, or even a plastic storage tote in the hole; and filling it with rocks and water. “You don’t need to 3-D-print some elaborate frog mansion,” Sauer told me.
I had called Sauer to set my mind at ease on one point: Would creating an artificial house or pond also create a transmission point for disease? She told me it wasn’t worth worrying about. Yes, multiple frogs might move into a pond or house, and they might touch if they mate, but frogs already gather in groups naturally, whereas birds at bird feeders can congregate in unusually high numbers. Feeders can pose a disease risk to birds, Sauer said: “You have a single place with one porthole, and they stick their faces in there and chew on things. And then their friends come over and do the same thing.” A frog pond can even bring in birds, who will use it to bathe and drink—with less chance of disease transmission.
There are very few downsides to catering to your local frogs, the biggest of which is that your backyard might have more mosquitoes—mosquitoes, like frogs, breed in water. To avoid that, you either need animals that will eat all of the mosquitoes (such as dragonflies or some tadpoles) or you need to keep the water moving. A solar-powered aerator costs about $30.
It is very possible that the frogs that show up to your patio water feature won’t be critically endangered species, but that’s okay. “We want to keep common species common so they don’t decline,” Sauer said. It all helps. Providing habitat for amphibians is important, but researchers are also working on frog houses that will actually help save frogs from the fungal pathogen. These houses would be like little greenhouses: hot enough to kill the fungus but not too hot for the frog’s comfort.
Not everyone can or wants to build a frog house. But they might be interested in putting a pot full of wildflowers for pollinators on their balcony. Saving species in the 21st century isn’t just about protecting big, undeveloped parks—although we need those too. It is also about figuring out how to coexist with the many species that can thrive in the urban, suburban, exurban, and agricultural landscapes we’ve made. That we’ve shared space with birds for thousands of years proves we can do it.
There’s evidence that this is already happening, and birdhouses and frog houses are just the beginning. People are adding bee hotels and bat houses, and planting milkweed for endangered monarch butterflies to lay their eggs on. It can be dizzying to think about all the species that need help right now, but engaging in everyday conservation can also just be fun, helping to turn neighborhoods into corridors of habitat for creatures such as frogs. Our cities can be wetlands too, at least in spots. Our kids can watch tadpoles on summer days. And in the spring, we can listen to the frogs sing at dusk.
  —  You Should Build a Frog Pond
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ellen-shame · 1 month
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Ten Opening Lines
thanks for the tag, @yabagofmilfs and sorry it's taken me soooo long to do!
Rules: list the first line of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any.
I have not yet published ten stories so I'll do some WIPs too!
(you and me) supersede - 'Sid can’t stop pacing around the covering bed.'
2. (begging for a piece of that) bubble - 'Sid tosses his robe on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and stands gloriously naked as he pokes around trying to find his sleep shirt.'
3. Gentle Violence
'r/penguins
4/3/2010 u/UserMcLoser Rumours that Malkin is scent marking Crosby on the reg?? Apparently it’s an open secret in the league that Malkin’s courting Crosby… View full post ⬆️90'
4. Reverenced Helplessness - '“Hot in here, eh?” Sid says.'
5. (this is how you make yourself) vanish into nothing - 'Maybe it starts like this:'
6. (wow wow wow wow) that's low brow - 'Six weeks after they start - dating? hooking up? having sex every night and sleeping next to each other every night and saying things like God, you’re really beautiful in bed, not like every night but not infrequently either -
(- which is like six and a half weeks after Jamie says with incredible, gorgeous, amazing casualness that he’s into men as well as women -)
(- and like six weeks and two days after Jamie becomes the first person Trevor ever comes out to on purpose, as in like, for the sake of being open and honest as opposed to for the sake of I think we’re about to jerk each other off but I don’t want you to punch me if I’ve misjudged the vibe -)
(- well like, not that Trevor totally wasn’t thinking that coming out to Jamie on purpose might increase the chances of them jerking each other off, because that’s also six weeks and a half weeks after Trevor realises with all the abruptness of an elevator wooshing down and leaving your stomach in your chest that he finds Jamie incredibly attractive -)
(- so anyway, six weeks and two days after Trevor says to him, I think I might be gay, and then really hates that might and decides it doesn’t count unless you do the thing properly and adds, I mean. I think I probably am, and Jamie says, Okay -)
(- which is to say, six weeks after Trevor spends two days dancing around Jamie, getting wound tighter and tighter, chest pounding, lowkey feeling like he’s about to puke, wondering if it’s all in his head or if he’s right to think Jamie’s also dancing around him, and then they go up to their roof to watch the sunset and both turn to each other at the same time and kiss like they’d planned it and Trevor’s head explodes -)
- anyway, six weeks after that, Jamie calls from the bathroom one morning that he’s thinking about growing a moustache.'
7. (WIP) steelheart - 'Geno was supposed to be back at 8, but at 8.06 he texts Sid sorry late.'
8. (WIP) (don't look at me, you've got a) girl at home - 'Nolan is sleeping less nowadays.'
9. (WIP) (i'm gonna pop your) bubblegum heart - 'Auston has been put on baby-sitting duty.'
10. (WIP) Encyclopaedia - 'There's a new guy in Auston's adult literacy class.'
Comments: Hmm, I think I have a tendency to start with short little sentences that sound fairly everyday and unremarkable, but which quickly lead into the main issue of the fic. However, I definitely played around with different forms outside my comfort zone in these fics - the most obvious examples being vanish into nothing and that's low brow. My favourite might be vanish into nothing because I really enjoy writing that self-consciously plays with the fact that it is writing. I also remember really wrestling with the opening of that's low brow, very aware that I was doing something very much outside my usual style, but trying to capture the maelstrom of feelings and experiences Trevor had just gone through.
Let me know if you spot any other habits of mine! I love talking about writing.
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Yuuta Tomonaga
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Age: 10
Home: Nanamagari City (Brave Police J-Decker)
Likes: Robots, wearing girl’s clothes
Dislikes: Bugs, ghosts
Rank: Chief Inspector
Okay, yes, Yuuta is a cop. Technically. But I’m pretty sure he only joins the police to stay with his robot buddy, and we all had bad ideas when we were his age, so I’m sure we can forgive him. And yes, one of the profiles posted yesterday was a child who has waterboarded multiple people.
Wait, why am I worrying so much about this when a bunch of the bracket’s kids are villainous mass murderers? That’s worse than being a cop! Probably.
Anyways, there’s not much to say about Yuuta. He’s a grade schooler who discovers a secret transforming police robot named Deckerd. He befriends the robot, “teaches him various things about life,” and accidentally turns Deckerd into a sentient being capable of empathy. The police obviously have to wipe Deckerd’s personality before he can enter police service. (I am not making this up, by the way. The wiki doesn’t imply a connection between that and the empathy, but I sure will!)
Luckily, Yuuta intervenes when a mad scientist tries to steal the memory-wiped Deckard, which…somehow restored its memories of Yuuta, which I assume has something to do with the “Super-AI” thing explained by neither the wiki nor TV Tropes? Apparently all “Super-AI” treat Yuuta as a little brother to protect. Also, he’s promoted to chief inspector when he’s still a tween, for some reason? This sounds like a weird show.
I can’t find much information about his personality. He misses his parents, who are archaeologists and I guess work somewhere far from Nanamagari. He’s exceptionally empathetic for a cop, even to the point of trying to save convicts instead of fighting the evil robot that was attacking the prison. Also, TV Tropes mentions that he was happy to cross-dress to infiltrate an all-girl’s school?
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…yeah, he looks pretty happy. Happier than he does in the other pictures on the wiki. Huh.
Anyways, has anyone posted about the humans in this this obscure mid-90’s in-house Transformers knockoff?
I finally gave into peer pressure and started watching Brave Police J-Decker, and all I am saying so far is that Yuuta is ABSOLUTELY going to be pioneering Nanamagari's LGBTQ+ Community when he grows up. No one dresses like THAT at age 10 and grows up to be both cisgender and heterosexual
okay random thoughts but i just couldnt help myself but im completely amazed how much Yuuta had to go through during the series like do you have any idea how much this 10-11 years old little boy had to overcome countless devastating moments? [...] he acted as a kid for most of the time, but there have been moments when he judged better than anybody else. he took action regardless of his sorrows and agonies..i know this can be spoilers, but—
Yuuta, you really should pick better places to sleep.
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The Pajama Party Nobody Asked For
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It's 1984. Metallica are back home from their European tour. Kirk thought it would be the perfect idea to celebrate being home while wearing the stupidest outfits ever. Shenanigans soon arise.
Author's note: Right, so this is my first ever fan fiction and I'm actually really proud of myself. I came across kigurumi suits online not long ago and honestly I found the idea of the guys wearing them fucking hilarious.
Also, I'm like 90% sure that kigurumis didn't exist in the 80's- but who cares.
Anyway, enjoy!
WARNINGS: cursing, alcohol, cig and pot-smoking
December 2, 1984
Home. Finally home. 
Ride the Lightning had been recorded in full and released. The European tour was finally over. So naturally- between all the raw exhaustion, jet lag, and pressure- of course a celebration of some sort was in order.
Kirk was high on LSD when he came up with a crazy, kooky idea for a fun night involving one-piece pajamas made for adults. That man was always thinking up something wildly interesting, it seemed.
“We’re having a fucking party, tonight.” He was grinning like a goof ball into the phone.
It was as if Lars could actually feel Kirk’s unique, crooked teeth scraping against him through the speaker. He repeated in questioning, “Tonight?” Kirk could make out the rumble of Motorhead sounding from his stereo in the background.
“Fucking tonight,” was repeated right back with much confidence. “Just the four of us.”
“That doesn’t sound like much of a party.” Lars complained. “That sounds like a fucking business meeting.”
“You two got anything better to do?”
There was silence for only a moment. Kirk could hear Lars inhale on the other line, but he cut him off before the words could even leave his lips.
“The four of us. A slumber party. A boy’s night in. Whatever the fuck you wanna call it.” Kirk spewed with way too much enthusiasm. “Junk food. Booze. Weed. What else?”
“What else ?” Lars repeated.
A fun-filled time, that’s what!
Kirk let loose boyish laughter. “Just have to wait and see!”
“What are you, gay?” Lars cackled. “Gay? High? Delusional? Which one is it?”
“I’m serious, man. It’ll be fun.” Kirk brought a more down to Earth tone to the phone call. “Come on. We all worked fucking hard on this tour.” He kicked back in his chair, propping his legs up. “Don’t you think we deserve a night to just goof off and have some good wholesome fun?”
Good wholesome fun, you say?
Lars wondered what exactly was so wholesome about sitting around and getting fucked up, obliterating their digestive systems with junk food. But he wasn't stupid. He knew Kirk was definitely gonna have something unexpected up his sleeve.
His heart skipped beats with every passing second of awkward silence. His fingers were intertwined with the curl of his phone cord. “It’ll be like we’re boys again.” His tone went flat, with a hint of melancholy his dear brother and band mate could make out almost perfectly. 
Kirk was stressed.
"The age of innocence is history, Lars. Everything's changing.”
Ah . So he was feeling nostalgic. Probably anxious about the future, as well. That explained a lot.
"Is that really a bad thing?"
There was a minor pause. "No."
Kirk swallowed back his ever growing anxiety, when all he wanted to do was scream that he was scared. Scared of what the future had in store. This was only the beginning for Metallica.
Still, Lars was puzzled at this conversation. All four of them were still relatively young men. They had plenty of time to fuck around in their lifetimes. He couldn’t help but wonder if Kirk was experiencing some sort of identity crisis.
A quarter-life-crisis? Is that even a thing?
Lars finally spoke. “Alright then. Just be sure to bring lots of booze.”
Kirk instantly grinned again.
That and more, my friend. That and more.
Jackpot.
It was just barely five in the evening as Kirk pulled up to the house.
The good 'ol "Metallica Mansion" , they deemed it. This was where they loved to jam; to hang out and cause mischief all-around. 
That's where the magic was made. Four young men with enough energy to light up a whole city street, and a house full of booze and instruments; It was every thrasher’s dream. There was no telling what could happen.
Kirk couldn't help but carry a smile, exiting his car. It was a chilly evening. The perfect weather condition for the surprises he brought with.
"It's open!" He could hear Lars' distinct accent ring in response to his knocking.
He entered their front room with a smile, setting his various plastic bags down on the old beat up sofa cushion. Lars immediately crept over to his side, snooping through the contents.
"Alcohol," was all he muttered, sifting through snacks, candy and comic books; All irrelevant to him. If they were gonna have a night in together, then he wanted shots, for damn sure.
"Here." Kirk emptied the contents of one bag, loaded with alcohol galore. Smirnoff, Jack Daniel's, Jägermeister.
"Oh fuck yes!" Lars pulled out all three of the bottles, hugging them to his chest as if they were a dear child. Two six packs of Coors beer were dug out of another bag. As if they already didn't have enough of that in the house.
Into the room sauntered James, looking a mix of dazed and confused. It was obvious he was still adjusting back to the normal Californian time zone. Being in Europe for so long can really mess with one's internal clockwork.
Kirk was one of the lucky ones. Fortunate enough to surpass jet lag with little effort.
That happy-go-lucky, wah-pedal-pressing asshole.
"How you feeling?" He offered a thoughtful smile to the frontman.
James shrugged. A loose grunt rising from his throat. "Tired."
"You mean drunk?" Lars, laughed and motioned to the usual can of beer held in his hand. That cheeky bastard. 
"Yeah. Basically." Normally James would just tell him to fuck off, but he was just too lazy to deal with an arguement, right now.
There was a sigh. 
"What the hell is that ?" Lars' voice was animated with inquisitiveness, picking through what Kirk brought as a surprise. He rubbed his fingers against multicolored fleece-like fabric. "A blanket?"
Hell yeah! Were they gonna make blanket forts, or something? That would actually be epic.
"Oh, I'm glad you asked!" A grin spread against Kirk's face. A certain special grin that only made its way to his facial features when things were about to get-
interesting.
Shit. James and Lars both knew that look. 
They watched as Kirk pulled out four costumes. These crazy animal one-piece outfits that looked like they were actually meant for kindergarteners. Preschoolers, even.
Double shit.
They exchanged a certain look; A concoction of bewilderment and generalized weariness. Both men were wondering if Kirk had actually lost his fucking mind. The day finally came. 
That's it. The LSD finally scrambled his brain to a milkshake consistency. And now, they would have to scour the streets for a new guitarist with a sound mind.
No sane man of twenty-two years would come up with an idea so immature. They just knew they were in for a night of tomfoolery with these laughable outfits.
"You're the dinosaur." He handed the outfits off to their designated recipient. "And you're the lion, James."
Kirk was obviously overjoyed with his purchase of these pajamas. They could just see it plastered across his dumbass face.
"First of all- what the fuck were you thinking?" The frontman's words were laced with confusion. He held the lion-themed onesie out with some hesitation. His eyes scanned the outfit head to toe.
"Were you even thinking?"
Lars asked this in the middle of undressing himself down to his underwear. He was actually willing to put this thing on. It seemed warm enough, and comfortable to lounge around in. Better than a ratty old tee shirt and those ridiculous tennis shorts.
December evenings in the bay area could go one of two ways; unusually cold or unusually warm. There was no in-between.
This whole day had been leaning more toward "too fuckin cold for comfort" - in Lars' words. He took any extra warmth he could get.
"It's not that serious," Kirk admitted. "I bought them as a joke, at first. But then I figured it would be- I don't know- fun to wear them for a night in, I guess." He looked slightly nervous that James was angry. It was clear that Lars wasn't.
But surprisingly, on the contrary. A grin soon spread across James' features. 
This was going to be a fascinating evening.
Lars was chortling the entire time James slipped into the massive one-piece. He looked himself over, partially in a self-conscious way.
Lars sneered. "You look like the cowardly lion."
"Yeah? Well you look like a green rectangle." The frontman pulled over the lion face hood, speaking as if it were a competition between the two.
Actually, that idea wasn't half bad.
Who wore the onesie better? Winner gets free beer!
"Don't make me whoop your ass with my tail! It's tiny, but mighty!" The dane whipped the plush tail from his outfit against James' leg. In turn, James did the same to him with the lion tail hanging from his back end.
Amazing. Not even ten minutes of wearing the pajamas, and they were already acting like hyperactive children.
Lars stopped mid-thump, turning to look at his behind. “Hey wait, where the fuck is the butt-flap? There’s no fuckin butt-flap!" 
Right. Leave it to Lars to feel cheated over a loose square of removable fabric. That man always had something to complain about.
Kirk laughed. "A kigurumi doesn't have a butt-flap, doofus."
"A what?" James raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"A kigurumi. That's technically what it's called." Kirk's words were informal. He finally took a seat on the couch, lazily crossing his legs.
"I thought it was a onesie"
He shrugged. "Same thing, basically"
Potato, potato.
"You mean to tell me I gotta take the whole damn thing off if I gotta shit?" Lars sounded like a spoiled pre-teen. It was even funnier with the accent. His accent always seemed to thicken with any little irritation.
James grinned from ear to ear. “Want me to carve one for you, Ulrich?" He motioned to grab a random pocket knife from the cluttered end table.
“Hey, I paid good money for these! Don’t ruin them!” Kirk ripped the knife away from the front man. That didn't stop James from tittering with hilarity.
"Sure are testy over these gay lil outfits." 
Lars was snooping through the other two outfits. "A unicorn? Is that supposed to be yours?"
Really, it was fitting.
Kirk's features darkened for a split moment. He clicked his tongue in a chuckle. "Actually, I'm the bat"
Oh. Oh no.
That meant-
James let out a holler of boisterous laughter. This was too good to be true. “Oh shit, Cliff is gonna be piiiiissssed .” Those words sounded dead serious, but the look on his face, along with his tone of voice, they roughly translated to: "Get me a fucking camera when Cliff puts this thing on."
Indeed, he was gonna want to remember that moment for a lifetime.
Kirk was admittedly excited about that, as well. While he was close with all three of his fellow bandmates, he'd always felt a little extra closer to Cliff. They enjoyed a lot of the same things and they got along really well, right from the start. They were like two peas in a pod, so to speak.
"Hey where is Cliff, anyway?"
What a dumb question. Everyone knew Cliff was a homebody.  
James responded. "Home. He's been sleeping so much since we got back. Jet lag got him bad."
"Well maybe this'll make him feel better.” Kirk knew he might've been walking on eggshells when he decided to call.
As the phone rang, James whistled with awe. "Man, you've got balls ."
You wake Cliff up, you're gonna have a bad time.
The other line finally picked up; An annoyed and groggy-sounding Cliff answered on the opposite end.
"Hey, man. How're you feeling?" Kirk played it cool, gripping the phone with nervousness. His knuckles were damn-near turning white.
A stony chuckle of sarcasm sounded. " Gee , I don't know. I'm trying to take a nap, and I've got assholes like you callin me left and right." He breathed out, "How you think I feel?"
Ah, Cliff. Good 'ol Cliff.
"Right, right. I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry." Kirk repeated his words.
Cliff's voice softened. "It's fine. What's up?" Truthfully, he should have woken up hours ago. He still wasn’t fully unpacked.
"We're having a little-" Kirk paused for a moment.
What the hell did he wanna call this, anyway?
"Shindig." No. Absolutely not. Lars and James were both squawking with laughter behind him, repeating such an uncanny word. "Shindig." It just didn’t sound natural coming from Kirk’s mouth.
"Sleepover, boys night in, kinda thing."
James yelled loud enough for the man to hear. "Yeah, he's got a surprise for ya, Cliff!" 
“Boy does he!” Lars peppered in. Of course he did .
Cliff just knew he was shooting himself in the foot by agreeing. A small groan was made out through the phone. "I'm guessing you want me over?" His voice rang with apathy.
The redhead wasn’t exactly looking for a party. “Look, we’re finally finished touring, you guys know how homesick I was. I really just wanna relax. Take it easy.” 
Kirk was lying through his teeth. “That’s what we’re doing, man! Come on over and take a nap here, we don’t care!”
Oh right , like Cliff would much rather crash anywhere but the nice warm bed he’d been missing for months. Go figure.
After much hesitance, Cliff tiredly sighed into the phone. He’d probably never hear the end of this minor inconvenience, if he decided to skip. Especially from Lars. That hot-headed dane would often dig under his skin by running his mouth too much.
“Alright, fine.”
He just hoped he wasn’t gonna regret this. Boy, was he gonna be surprised.
Kirk grinned from ear to ear like a mad man. “Cool, we’ll see you in a bit!” He rolled his eyes at the sight of Lars. He opened a foil bag of chips so forcefully, it sent some flying to the floor. “Nice going, asshole.” James grumbled.
It was no wonder their house could be such a pigsty. Lars yelled from nearby. “Bring weed!” His mouth was already cram packed with potato chips.
“And lots of it! We’re gonna need it!” James followed his remark with beer-induced belch. Oh, funny coming from him. He didn’t even like weed.
Cliff heard this and said not another word. He set the phone back on the hook with a shake of his head. 
The redhead rattled through dressing himself in his usual outfit: bell bottoms, a tee shirt, a denim jacket that was definitely not weather-appropriate. He shuffled through his belongings, making sure to grab aforementioned marijuana and rolling papers. And of course, his Marlboros.
He couldn’t go without those.
Managing to drag his way out to his old Volkswagen, where he sat in the driver’s seat, just contemplating. A wide yawn fell from his lips, while rubbing his still tired eyes.
Cliff really was exhausted. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so tired in his whole twenty-two years of living. As much as he enjoyed touring with Metallica, he always dreaded the aftermath of it all. But there was no denying- he loved the feeling of coming back home to his closest friends and family.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
He sighed and put the key to ignition. Stalled. He tried again.
Fucking stalled.
Cliff cursed a short “ fuck ” while beating his fist against the broken steering wheel. It’s not like he was surprised. Everyone had been telling him to dump this car and get a new one. But he insisted there was still life left in the ‘ol Grasshopper. He loved this car too much to part ways with it.
Cliff was wondering in the depths of his mind: What was this “surprise” James was blabbering about over the phone? Guess he would have to get his ass over to the mansion and find out.
That is, if he could just get his damn car to start.
The familiar slamming of a car door was sounded outside the house, indicating Cliff had finally arrived just after six. Kirk was all winded up like a kid in a candy store. “He’s here! He’s here!” He eagerly repeated himself, bouncing out of his seat. This was truly unusual.
Just let him have his moment.
Lars’ fabric spiked hood kept falling into his face, from practically drowning in the huge pajamas. He pushed the hood from his face, looking perplexed. “Wait, should we hide?” 
James had his feet propped up against the sofa, showing off his poorly socks. They were chock-full of holes from wear, and frankly, could have used a good cleaning like, months ago. “We’re not having a surprise party, fuckin dimwit.”
Of course, this remark only made Lars throw an M&M at him.
Kirk gleefully answered the door when the redhead knocked.
"Right, so what's the big ide-" 
Cliff stopped mid-sentence when he saw what Kirk was wearing. His brow furrowed with total confusion raiding his brain. The shorter man before him held his arms out to his sides, showing off the big red bat wings sewn into his onesie; A doofus smile plastered across his face.
All he could ask was, “What do ya think?”
Cliff had to take a moment to process just what the hell he was wearing. He looked over to where James and Lars sat, cheesing like little kids who knew the great secret to life. A strand of his hair puffed out just barely with a breathy chuckle.
“You have gotta be kidding”
There was hesitation in his voice. He didn’t know whether to laugh at them, or be scared. He made eye contact with James for some kind of explanation. This was some shit he would pull, no doubt. 
The frontman may be shy and quiet when he was sober, but the moment alcohol made contact with his system, he was a complete goofball. Nobody could take him seriously. Cliff would bet money it was him.
"Don't look at me! It was his idea." James nodded over to Kirk. “Oh, but wait! There’s more!” “You don’t wanna miss this.” Lars was covering his mouth. His nostrils were flaring as he held all the laughter inside.
Kirk unveiled the pastel unicorn onesie, bought just for him. “Voilà!”
It was time to be scared.
“Oh. Oh no, no, no, no.” How many “no’s” were too many? Nah, fuck it. More importantly on Cliff’s mind: How many “no’s” would it take to verbally slap some sense into Kirk?
James wasn’t being helpful. “I fuckin told you he wouldn’t like it, man.” He threw up his hand and smacked it back down to his thigh, trying to get his point across.
There was no way Cliff was going to join in on their weird little kiddy clothes nonsense. Especially not as the unicorn. What the hell was this, anyway? A cult meeting of the freak animals? He almost felt insulted that he had to be the unicorn.
Almost.
Couldn’t he be something mythical that was cool? Like Cthulhu? A fire-breathing dragon, perhaps?
“I’m not fuckin wearing that”
“Oh.” Kirk looked rather disappointed by Cliff’s less than impressed response. He was really hoping for an old-school “pajama party” “Are you sure?”
What the fuck do you mean “are you sure?”?!
James snorted. “Oh please! C’mon and be a unicorn, pussy!”
He was trying to make things difficult, and Cliff wasn’t having that shit. He was already peeved that they talked him into coming over, in the first place. “How about I punch you in the jaw?” The frontman was trying to sound serious in such a funny situation. “Oh yeah? You’re gonna punch a lion? Go ahead, I fuckin dare you. Lions eat people.” 
Lars exclaimed an “ooh” like he was watching a trainwreck on a daytime talk show. “Cat and horse fight!” 
Cliff rolled his eyes so hard, he was sure they’d get lost in the back of his skull. “Dumbass”
“Guys, stop it. Shut the fuck up.” Kirk sounded defeated. This all wasn’t going the way he hoped.
The redhead clenched his jaw. He was trying to keep his cool, when all he wanted to do was lecture Kirk and ask, "You woke me up for this stupid shit?" He had half a mind to leave; Go back to his house, drag his ass back to his mattress, and sleep like a bear.
But he also had half a mind to listen to what Kirk had to say.
Oh Kirk. Wild, kind, eccentric- Kirk Hammett .
“Listen, if Cliff doesn’t wanna wear the pajamas, he doesn’t have to. I won’t be offended.” Kirk’s face held the indistinct look of hurt, despite his statement. 
“I just wanted to do something silly.” He sat down in the armchair, “Something out of the ordinary.” Each word he spoke was prominent in a way to make the others understand. 
Sure, maybe they didn’t understand right now-
but they would. In time, they would.
Cliff relaxed himself and sighed through his nose. Well fuck.
By some miraculous gift from the Gods- or just pure dumb luck- Cliff did not end up leaving. In fact, as seven P.M. started rolling in, all four men found themselves passing a freshly made joint amongst each other. 
Yes. All four of them. A dinosaur, a lion, a bat, and-
A very grumpy unicorn.
They didn’t pass it to James, of course. They all knew he didn’t enjoy smoking; He was much more interested in their vast spread of alcoholic beverages, as per usual. Diamond Head echoed from the cassette player across the room.
The ambience wasn’t nearly as tense as it was, twenty some-odd minutes earlier. It was a lot more laid back. Cliff figured the weed was to blame for that.
Being truly honest with himself, he kinda felt like a complete jackass.
“I don’t know how the fuck you talked me into this. We look ridiculous.” Cliff shook his head with his words. His feet rubbed over each other, as if in self-consciousness. This made his socks appear to flop around his ankles.
They were black, and printed with generic white skulls and crossbones. Typically, an unusual style for Cliff, but just the perfect one for Kirk. He was the horror-obsessed nerd everyone wished they knew during the Halloween season. That man was always searching for something visually appealing and spooky.
Hair fell into his face while peering over. “Nice socks.” His eyes were wide with interest. “Thanks.” Cliff really didn’t have the heart to admit that all his usual socks needed washing. He had yet to do any laundry, since his return home. These were just last-choice, bottom of the barrel socks he threw on that he didn’t even know he had.
Kirk responded to Cliff’s previous statement of annoyance. “Well either way, I appreciate the participation. You didn’t have to.” A thankful grin stretched across his jaw.
Yeah, yeah. Sure he didn’t.
The redhead wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained from doing so. “Just pass the joint.”
He leaned forward, reaching for Lars to pass it in his direction. The way he removed himself from his place on the sofa made the drop-crotch of his pajamas puff out. Of course this made James titter with amusement. “Hey Cliff, your diaper’s full.”
“Fuck off.” Cliff pulled the joint to his lips and took a long inhale. The very end of the tightly rolled blunt flared with ash and smoke. On condition that he was gonna have to deal with being dressed up like a unicorn for the night, he might as well deal with it while as stoned as he could possibly be.
If anyone knew how to be high, it was definitely Cliff.
The frontman threw his head back with an eye roll at Cliff’s barking. "Laaaaaame."
"Yeah I mean, I know these are pajamas, but I kinda feel like I'm wearing a weird dress. Why's the crotch so low?" Lars was tugging the green fabric between his fingers.
"Who cares? They're comfortable." Cliff finally admitted.
Oh, look who’s talking! Mr. “I don’t wanna be a unicorn” Burton.
“Aha. Oh really?” James was really grinning ear to ear now. Cliff was about to tell him to shut up, when Kirk gave his own sunny response.
"And cute!"
There was a pause. All three men seemed to stare at him with pure skepticism.
"Uhh, sure" Smoke fell from the redhead’s lips before finally passing the joint to Kirk, who relaxed beside him. He almost didn’t want to, seeing as to how deranged Kirk was acting. Maybe he needed a straight jacket more than illicit substances.
Laughter rattled around in Cliff’s head, over that one.
Lars gave his typical smug smile. “I think we look fuckin cool!”
Time to see how the night plays out.
While eight o’clock soon crept up on them, all four men were quickly starting to realize that attempting to have a “fun-filled time” was proving to be futile. They were worn-out, tired, drunk and stoned. Everything seemed to be far too underwhelming. Some party this was.
Lars’ chin rested against his hand, in boredom. He was more than willing to complain about the situation, while the others suppressed their vexation. It was all about getting a rise out of someone.
"See, I told you this wasn't much of a party, man."
Even chick’s had better slumber parties than this! But Lars, James, Kirk, and Cliff were all in agreement; They would not be having any pillow fights, or make-out sessions with one another. The four were lazily taking turns playing an exceptionally half-assed “game” of beer pong. If one could even call it that.
It looked more like they were taking turns throwing a crumpled ball of aluminium foil into Dixie cups simply for the fuck of it.
"Shut up and take another shot" Cliff set the bottle of Smirnoff down in front of him.
Well, can’t go wrong with more alcohol.
In reality, they weren’t sure whether to be completely pissed off at Kirk or not. It’s not like he forced them into this predicament- or did he? Maybe he sweet-talked just a little more than he should have, in order to sell the idea of having fun. Too much excitement was probably the last thing they needed, in actuality.
Truth be told, the band was pooped beyond belief.
Kirk was rooting around in the side table’s drawer of clutter. Why not alleviate any excess hostility with a nice card game? “Uno or Poker?” James finally sat up in his chair, with interest, after laying across it like a deflated balloon animal for so long. “Uno. I ain’t playing Poker with Cliff. He took all my money last time!”
Cliff looked over to the frontman, carrying a suggestive smirk. The bold expression on his face read with confidence, “and I’ll fucking do it again.”
"Dawn of the Dead?" His gaze shifted to the television set while Kirk started to shuffle game cards.
James responded with a shake of his head. "Tape player's still busted."
Oh yeah, that’s right. One of the last ragers they threw here in the good ‘ol Tallica Mansion, some drunken asshole decided it was a brilliant idea to take a leak inside the VCR. The tape player wasn’t in the greatest shape, to begin with- but the pungent yellow piss seeping out if it the next day was just the icing on the fucking cake. Cliff still didn’t understand what would compel a person to do such a thing.
Whether the unknown VCR-pisser did it as a joke, or something else, the band would never know. Either way, they did know this: It was a dick move.
“Still?” Cliff spoke under his breath. But it didn’t matter. They’d been gone for so many months anyway, getting a taste of fortune inside the motels that were lucky enough to have gold-package cable television.
He cracked open a cold bottle of Coors, sending the metal cap right into Kirk’s lap. “So you got money for stupid one-piece costumes, but none to pitch in for a new VCR?” He set his annoyance aside, revealing a playful smile.
Kirk laughed. “Oh fuck off, you know you like it.” 
”Like” was a daring choice of word. The onesie sure was warm, that’s for sure. Cliff truly hated being too cold. While taking the extra warmth into account, he really did appreciate it. So I guess that did mean he liked it, and Kirk was correct.
Touché. That bat pajama bitch.
James made his displeasure heard while rearranging the two TV antennas for a better signal. “Come on, you ball-licker!” At this rate, they may as well be watching static for the rest of the night.
Just when all hope seemed lost, Lars erupted from his seat. His eyes were wide with energy. “You know what? I think I have an idea.”
Oh goody. Just what they needed, more ideas.
By eight-thirty, they were all sitting on the floor playing Uno, barricaded by a poorly-made blanket fort. Lars was sure he emptied all the beds and closets of any excess blankets he could find. That seemed to do the trick. The atmosphere instantly became cozier by comparison, thanks to the plush pillows and throws surrounding them. 
This was actually starting to become a more pleasant experience for the four. Especially Cliff.
He remembered making forts like this as a kid, getting lost in the books he loved. Back then, he didn’t give a shit about what the other kids were doing. He preferred to hide away in his own little cave of quilts and do his own thing.
Those were the days.
“Hey, how’d this pillowcase get a burn hole?” Kirk inquired once his turn was over. He ran his fingers over the fibers that frayed and hardened from the contact of flame. It was almost a perfectly rounded hole in the fabric. Let’s see, what did it remind him of?
He looked over to the redhead laying out a classic draw two card for Lars. “Draw two, pussy.” There was a cigarette gripped firmly between his lips. Smoke puffed from his nostrils while pulling it between his fingers. Kirk immediately remembered as he watched Cliff pat the ashes into a chipped ashtray.
Oh. Right.
Don’t fall asleep with cigarettes.
Kirk’s question went unnoticed, of course. He shrugged it off and sifted through his cards while the next turn landed on James. 
He laid out a reverse card with a grin of triumph. That left a single card in his hand. “Fucking uno! I’m about to win again, motherfuckers!” Oh, but see- that’s where James was wrong. Kirk had a few good cards up his sleeve. Gameplay went back around the opposite direction, meaning James was greeted with the dreaded card of draw four. “Like hell you are!”
Lars sneered at the frontman’s misfortune, behind his massive collection of cards. “Ha-ha, you lose.” It was a funny comment to make, considering he was on the losing end more than anybody else. He must’ve had twenty cards in his hands. Uno just wasn’t his game.
James groaned, but kept a straight face. “Okay, well you know what I think?” 
He shifted himself to blow gas right in Kirk’s direction. “Take that!”
Boys will be boys. 
One would think Kirk would be grossed out, but he’d been cramped into a tour bus with this buck wild blond for nearly a year’s time. Farting was nothing to him. All he could do was bust a lung and howl with laughter like a savage hyena.
Even Cliff laughed alongside him. “That’s real mature.” James bounced back after pulling his cards. “Says the guy dressed up as a unicorn.” 
Cliff should’ve shoved his onesie’s gold stuffed horn up James’ ass when he had the chance. Metal up your ass? Fuck that. Unicorn horn so far up your ass, you spew rainbows .
“Settle down, fart boy.” 
Being able to mimic the sound of a trumpet with one’s ass could be quite impressive. Perhaps James deserved a trophy-
or maybe an antacid.
Cliff finally stamped out his cigarette. “Come on, there has to be something to watch on TV.” There was no way they could sit there watching the TV Guide channel’s endless loop all night. There had to be another channel where they could get a clear picture.
Kirk took it upon himself to go about adjusting the antennas, once again, while surfing through the limited channels. The frontman took Kirk’s absence as an opportunity to peek through his stack of cards.
Cliff smacked his hand away. “Stop cheating, dick.” 
Kirk was about to give up, until-
“There we go!” He gave the old box television a few forceful knocks down on the top with his knuckles. The picture was miraculously clear as a man and woman were passionately making out on the screen. Lars muttered another “ooh” at the spicy lovemaking scene before him.
“Someone get the popcorn!”
“Hey, are they speaking Spanish?” James tilted his head in puzzlement.
Uh-oh.
9:15 P.M.
Metallica has officially been introduced to telenovelas.
The four friends were now reclining in a partially collapsed blanket fort, with all eight eyes glued to the screen. Due to the lack of subtitles, none of them were fully aware of what the hell was going on. But there was definitely a love triangle involved- a very disarray one.
Oh brother, was it cheesy.
Cliff had made the decision to start rolling up another joint, while watching. “I’m confused. What’s going on?” He ran his tongue along the edge of the rolling paper.
James shrugged and leaned back against a mountain of pillows. “Beats me.” He interlocked his fingers behind his head.
“Hey quit hogging the pillows, asshole!” Lars complained with a mouth full of Red Vines.
The frontman whipped a throw pillow at the dane, knocking the licorice right out of his hand. “Stop hogging all the snacks, fatass.”
Kirk wrapped one of the many fallen blankets around him, as he cozied up in the place beside Cliff. He ignored the two’s bickering and went on to explain to Cliff what was happening. At least, it was what he thought was happening. “That dude with the hideous goatee doesn’t realize he’s fucking his wife’s twin sister.” 
How conniving.
He brought a Red Vine of his own up to his mouth, with eyes still fixated on the soap opera. Watching non-English television programs was probably more interesting than watching the English speaking ones. They both carried the same cliché plotlines, but the Spanish programs were somehow more appealing.
Once the joint was ready, the redhead did not hesitate bringing his lighter to the end, with a snap of ignition. He gave a short hum full of indifference. Smoke once again wafted from his lips and nostrils in a fluid motion. This was some good shit.
“What a dumbass.”
10:05 P.M.
“I think I missed something.”
Cliff didn’t know if he was just too stoned to follow along, or not. James was equally just as confused.
“Yeah, how the fuck did she end up in the hospital?!”
“Her sister tried to poison her in the last episode” Kirk shushed their questions. As if their silence would somehow aid in his own understanding, despite the language barrier.
Cliff narrowed his reddened eyes, as if he personally knew that despicable woman. “That bitch.”
It seems the drama had reached a boiling point. The band appeared to leap up from their seats in total interest. Playing out before them was a heated argument between mother and daughter. Of course at the bedside of the comatose twin- of fucking course.
“Fuck! Her mom just slapped the shit outta her!” Lars stated the obvious. They watched as a fight broke out on the screen, between mother and evil twin daughter. “She’s calling her a puta!” Kirk added. Finally, the action they’ve all been waiting for!
Puta, you say? Cliff was right. What an evil bitch .
James’ grinning grew wider with every angry slap the mother character gave. "Damn she's fucking her up!" 
Cliff nodded in agreement. “She had it coming.” It was good to see someone so wicked get what they deserved. That’s karma at its finest.
“She’s ripping out her hair.” Lars and Kirk were both giggling like school boys, at this point. “She needed a new hair-do anyway.” 
The fight abruptly ended, thanks to an unwanted commercial break. Disappointed groans hollered from Lars and James, alike. But all four men were thinking the same thing: Fuck commercials. The breaks always had to happen at the worst possible time.
Kirk picked up the stack of cards from earlier, running his thumb up the edge. This motion created a familiar shuffling noise. “Wanna play another round of Uno?”
None of the other three seemed very interested. The redhead’s features wrinkled with an iffy facial expression. “A third?” Everyone knew he'd rather play poker. In fact- that gave him an even better idea. “You guys wanna make a bet?” His lips curled into a smile full of mischief.
James threw his head back dramatically again. As if he really had any money. But more often than not, he couldn’t pass up a good bet. “Fine. What ‘cha got?”
“I’ll bet you ten bucks there’s gonna be a murder, at some point.”
A murder? Gimme a break! This was a love drama!
Lars threw his dinosaur hood back. “I’m all in!” He put on his best look of ambition. That Danish rat.
“Sure, me too.” Kirk added.
The frontman raised his eyebrow at Cliff. “And if there’s not a murder?” He was determined to win this thing. The plot already put a woman in a coma, there was no way there could be a murder, on top of that!
Cliff thought briefly. “If not, you get the ten bucks. Plus I’ll buy us pizza.”
Thank god they lived near a pizzeria that had open hours until two in the morning. It was every late-night stoner’s paradise.
Suddenly, a pizza sounded especially delicious. “Deal.” James laid back with a sound of pure elation, throwing his hands behind his head again. He suddenly felt cocky. “I’ll take the meat lovers pizza, by the way.” 
Free money and food, here he comes.
Roughly twenty minutes later, James and the others would be proven wrong. A surprising new scene in the drama was focusing in on the aforementioned evil twin sister- now laying motionless at the bottom of a staircase, in a pool of blood. Karma finally got her good.
There had indeed been a murder plot twist. The pothead unicorn won fair and square.
Cliff slapped his thigh with triumph. “I called it! I fuckin called it!” He cheered. Meanwhile James was very unhappily probing around for his wallet.
“This is a stupid show, anyway.” He mumbled. He was always a downer after losing competitions.
“Oh, shut up and take the loss, puss.” Cliff gladly took the money that was given. James just flopped back down to the sofa, too tired to complain any further. Why not drown his miniscule sorrows with another drink?
That’ll do the trick!
Lars wandered back from the bathroom. “Wait, what the hell did I miss?” The dead body scene had since changed to something more joyous.
Kirk was cheesing with interest. He didn’t give a shit that he lost ten precious bucks; He was much more absorbed in the drama. “There’s been a mystery murder.” “Now we’re talkin!” Lars sat back down before it finally dawned on him. He lost the bet. “Oh. Wait .”
Cliff grinned. “Pay up, dickhead.”
Guess being a unicorn was lucky, after all.
11:18 P.M.
Light scatters of snowflakes began to fall outside.
The low sound of snoring could be heard behind Kirk and Cliff. The two continued to watch the drama unfold for the past hour, just assuming the other two were continuing to sulk from losing the bet. Kirk turned his head and smirked at the sight of their sleeping bodies propped against each other.
James was still gripping a half-empty can of beer. He was inevitably spilling against his thigh, in slumber. Lars’ mouth was wide open, spilling drool and crumbs from the corners. Gross . All they needed now was a camera.
“They fell asleep” Kirk tapped Cliff’s arm for attention.
They two looked at each other. The expressions they shared asked the age-old question.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Confidence coursed through Cliff while pulling another square to his lips. He lit up the end and cleared his throat. He exhaled. “Find me a magic marker” His smile was wide and broad.
That was so much better than a camera.
It was midnight.
One telenovela marathon, one bet, one family pack of Red Vines, two bags of chips, two joints, three cigarettes, four shots, four stupid outfits, and an ungodly amount of beer later. 
The marathon had since ended, leaving the two to figure out just what the hell else they could do. Kirk burrowed himself into the mass of blankets that were still piled around on the floor, with a comic. Cliff was counting through the money he made, along with what he already had in his wallet. Smooth jazz from the TV Guide channel was once again humming from the television speakers.
The night didn’t exactly pan out the way Kirk was hoping. But overall, he was just grateful to spend some time with his bandmates, and not have to worry about autographs and gigs, or having equipment stolen.
Oh, that was a nightmare.
His eyes scanned the cash in Cliff’s hands, remembering the promise of pizza. It still sounded good, even though that wasn’t part of Cliff’s winning end of the bet. It turns out that junk food doesn’t actually count as a meal.
“Wanna order a pizza?” The redhead paused, in thought. After two joints, he was virtually famished. He could go for a pizza. Hell, he could go for two . “Fuck it, sure” He pulled himself up to his feet to go to the phone.
“Wait, should we wake up the others?” Kirk’s bat hood flopped away from his bouncy curls.
The two looked over toward the sofa, where James and Lars were both slumped against each other. Each of their faces were scribbled foolishly with marker mustaches, profanities, and forehead penises.
They broke the golden rule of partying.
Everyone knows: You don’t fall asleep at parties. No matter how small.
Cliff smiled and shrugged. “More pizza for us.”
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