#UFOs kids sweater

[culturesfinest]

Funny cool alien kids' long sleeve shirt dark - Nobody Freakin Cares Alien Meme - Martian Alien Meme UFOs Designed to bring the best to the youngest of us all, the custom toddler long-sleeve tee is made from 100% combed ringspun cotton fine jersey. Built to last, the garment features a topstitched ribbed collar and shoulder-to-shoulder self-fabric back-neck taping. These inclusions boost durability, fit, and comfort. The label is EasyTear™, a nice feature for those with sensitive skin. .: 100% combed, ring-spun cotton (fiber content may vary for different colors) .: Light fabric (4.5 oz/yd² (153 g/m²)) .: Toddler unisex fit .: Tear away label Introducing the Funny Cool Alien Kids' Long Sleeve Shirt! This stylish and playful shirt is perfect for any kid who loves to stand out and express their individuality. Whether they're into outer space, aliens, or just enjoy a good laugh, this shirt is sure to capture their imagination and make them feel like a star. The design of the shirt is truly out of this world. A vibrant and colorful alien graphic adorns the front, complete with a comical expression that is sure to bring a smile to anyone's face. The intricate details of the alien's features, from its big eyes to its green skin, make it a captivating and eye-catching design that will quickly become a favorite in any child's wardrobe. Not only is the design fun and engaging, but the quality of the shirt is exceptional. Made from high-quality, soft, and durable fabric, this shirt is comfortable to wear all day long. The long sleeves provide extra warmth and protection, making it a great choice for cooler days or outdoor activities. Whether your child is playing at the park, running around with friends, or simply lounging at home, this shirt is a versatile and stylish option. In addition to its eye-catching design and top-notch quality, this long sleeve shirt is also incredibly versatile. It pairs effortlessly with a variety of bottoms, from jeans to shorts to skirts. Whether your child wants to dress it up for a special occasion or keep it casual for a playdate, this shirt transitions seamlessly from day to night and everything in between. Furthermore, the Funny Cool Alien Kids' Long Sleeve Shirt is easy to care for, making it a practical choice for busy parents. Simply toss it in the washing machine and it's good as new, ready for another day of adventure and play. The colors and graphic print remain vibrant, even after multiple washes, ensuring that this shirt will continue to look great for a long time to come. Not only is this shirt a great addition to any child's wardrobe, but it also makes a fantastic gift. Whether it's a birthday, holiday, or just a special surprise, the Funny Cool Alien Kids' Long Sleeve Shirt is sure to be a hit with any kid who loves to express their unique style and personality. In conclusion, the Funny Cool Alien Kids' Long Sleeve Shirt is a must-have for any child who loves to have fun with their fashion. With its captivating alien design, exceptional quality, and versatility, this shirt is the perfect combination of style and comfort. Whether they're exploring the great outdoors or simply hanging out at home, this shirt is sure to become a favorite in any child's wardrobe. Don't miss out on the opportunity to bring a little humor and creativity to your child's closet with this fabulous long sleeve shirt.

[badfanfictionaire]

The road before him was, thankfully, bathed in moonlight.  There were no street lights on this long and winding strip.  He was headed to meet his new assistant on the case he’d been working, since his last assistant turned out to have a weak stomach.  Which, wasn’t helpful when it came to investigating things of the supernatural variety.  Alien gunk can be pretty damn disgusting. 

His new assistant was a transfer from the Los Angeles office, he hoped she was ready to battle the rainy Washington weather…

He pulls up outside the airport departures section and puts the van in park.  Within moments there’s a light rap on his window, and he looks over to see a petite strawberry blond smiling at him.  Christ, he thinks, she’s barely over five feet.  It figures, the FBI wasn’t going to fork over one of their top field agents to help work on his cases.  No one ever really believed in his work, despite the evidence he’d been collecting for nearly a decade. 

He rolls the window down. 

“You must be Special Agent Cunningham.”

“Chrissy is fine,” she says, “And you must be Special Agent Munson?”

“Eddie is fine,” he says with a grin, “Well, climb aboard.”

“Thank you for picking me up, a cab ride would have cost me an arm and a leg.”

“Of course, gives me a chance to get to know you better anyhow.”

He looks her over and tries not to let his eyes linger too long for fear of being creepy. She’s got a long dark coat, black slacks, black low heeled boots, and a soft gray sweater.  Her hair is tied back with a thick black bow.  

“Well, what would you like to know?” 

“Why do you want to work in this department?”

She chuckles, “Right to the point, huh? Well, because… Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?” 

“Um, you know, just on a daily basis.”

“I actually joined the FBI specifically to work supernatural cases,” she says shyly, “Because I’ve seen… things.  Things I can’t explain.”

“UFOs, UAPs, ETs, that sort of thing?” 

When she giggles he can see the slight crookedness of her two front teeth. 

“When I was a little girl, one of my classmates, Barbara Holland, she just… disappeared.”

“And you suspect it was an abduction.”

“I do,” she nods, “All the witnesses were just kids, the police didn’t believe any of what they said.  But I’ve never forgotten it, any of it.  And years later I had my own out-of-body experience.  Things like that really make you question if we’re alone in this solar system.”

“You know, I like you already Chrissy. Most people give me some textbook answer, but not you.”

“Well, I’m not very textbook,” she says with a smirk, “What about you, why’d you want to work this department?”

“Not too dissimilar a story to yours actually.  A kid in town, Will, he was missing for a week and when he was found he claimed he’d been trapped in some sort of parallel dimension.  What he described was… unexplainable, at least with traditional science.”

“But you believed him.”

“Yeah, I did. I knew Will, he wasn’t one to lie.”

“Where is he now?”

“I wish I knew,” he says wistfully, “He and his boyfriend moved away after graduation, none of us ever heard from them again.  Will was never right after what happened, can’t say I blame him.  The stuff I’ve seen on the job, if it’s anything like what he saw when he was taken? Life changing, and not in a good way.”

They pull up at the address she’d given him, a sad-looking motel.  

“Well, this is me. Thanks again for the ride.”

“They didn’t hook you up with an apartment?”

“They did, but a pipe broke, so now it’s being repaired before I can move in. Who knows how long that’ll take.”

“Stay with me in the meantime,” he blurts. 

“You barely know me,” she says, blushing.

“I have a guest room,” he assures, “And two cats, do you like cats?”

She grins. “I love cats.”

“Great, Mulder and Scully are going to love you then.”

He pulls away from the motel and gets back on the main road, once again thankful for the moonlight keeping the road ahead illuminated.  The stars twinkle above them, and Eddie can’t help but wonder how many of them are actually alien space crafts scanning the Earth.  Someday he would know, when they gave him an actual stipend.  For now, he was going to have to make do with investigating the paranormal here on the ground, with his new right-hand gal.  He was starting to like this new assignment a lot more than he’d anticipated.

👻👻👻👻

(Read on AO3)

[doofnoof]

bug i am trying to image an ugly non-binary outfit you referenced, pls can i have an example. i can't accept the Macklemore outfit, that dude was kinda fashionable unfortunately😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

The secret cool option is that I'm too sexy and alluring, like a male bird of paradise that can use it's feathers to become some sort of hyper-attractive UFO shape that the Ladies just Adore™, for an outfit to ever truly be considered ugly, but bare with me here. Instead of shorts I am wearing Men's Underwear. Rainbow Toe Socks with matching rainbow sandals like if the Lucky Charms Mascot had kids and couldn't be arsed to put on the little pilgrim shoes even one more day and succumbed to Dad Socks. A tank top that is just barely holding itself together because of how worn it is, and an Ugly Christmas Sweater Themed Cat Onesie over that whole outfit tied around the waist like I'm the sleepiest mechanic in the Whole Wide World. If I have to go out or happen to just feel Zesty™ I wear my Rainbow Pride Snapback and some huge grandma sunglasses. Usually the only makeup I have on is my super glittery lip gloss that smells like Birthday Cake. If I don't feel like going the Fuckboy Snapback Route I'll wear Cat Ears because you can't buy groceries if you aren't feeling ✨Cute✨ yaknow? My hair is super duper long so I usually either have it in a high messy bun on the top of my head, or braided. Scrunchies in my hair, on my arms, in my food, around the house, under the sink, in my soul, Hellfire, Dark Fire-. I Love Scrunchies. They don't rip your hair if it's a messy day and I really appreciate the texture, especially because you can color coordinate them. I will always-always choose comfort over fashion, but lucky me, I make it work. I can look nice and presentable, at which point I usually go with an all black outfit and some combat boots, but it's so much easier to just roll out of bed and eat spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar in an outfit that should be considered a cry for help but is, in fact, just really soft and doesn't have Seams that will touch my skin in a way that makes me want to skin myself like the Lindworm. #Swaggie

[mywifeleftme]

16: Twinkeyz // Alpha-Jerk

Alpha-Jerk Twinkeyz 1979, Plurex

The Twinkeyz were a late ‘70s Sacramento garage rock band orbiting guitarist/singer/songwriter Donnie Jupiter. They cut a couple of singles in '77 and '78 and the Alpha-Jerk full-length in '79. The LP apparently suffered from mixing and mastering issues, and it disappeared virtually without a trace, taking the band with it. Jupiter would spend some time in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s playing bass in the even more obscure act Lizards, while also building a career in comics under his birthname Don Marquez. The Twinkeyz’ faint legend lingered though; their debut single “Aliens in Our Midst” is a regular on gay punk compilations, and they’re occasionally cited as a forerunner of queercore acts like Pansy Division.

The Twinkeyz were a B-movie Velvet Underground, laconic, witty rock and roll sweatered in primitive synth warbles and (to quote Scott Miller of Game Theory) “enough guitar effects to stun an elephant.” The lead guitarist (presumably Jupiter) is often the only one who seems more than minimally competent, and (although the songs on Alpha-Jerk were drawn from different sessions) the mix uniformly sounds like it’s thudding from a blown speaker. If the choice to self-produce robs Alpha-Jerk of a professional sheen, they also get to do a lot of stuff most producers wouldn’t allow. Nearly every track is studded with odd noises and found sounds, giving it a hand-made texture that suits the peculiarity of the music.

As with Suicide’s Alan Vega, the thing that makes Jupiter’s blunt songwriting distinctive is that it feels like an indoor kid’s idea of cool teenage music. “Strange Feeling” approximates then-current new wave pop, but the flatness of its affect seems to imply having feelings at all is the strange part; “Sweet Nothing” pulls the archetypally dumb garage move of ripping off the title (and nearly the melody) of a more well-known song, like they were trying to recreate “Oh! Sweet Nuthin’” from memory after dad broke their copy of Loaded over his knee. The lyrics about love, UFOs, psychic powers, and cartoons are obviously cute, but sometimes a sick sense of humour peeps through. Referring to weird psych as “bad drug” music in a well-worn cliché, but it’s the right description of “Alpha-Jerk,” a discordant dirge that could be about a kaiju or the Book of Revelations. The noises in the mix resemble the work of a crow leaving shiny bits and bobs on a tombstone.

It's all very good stuff for anyone with a taste for wimpy garage rock, but “Aliens in Our Midst” stands hips and knees over anything else here. The lyric cleverly mixes yarns about literal aliens with uncharacteristically direct anecdotes about queers and weirdos who “turn out okay” despite shitty circumstances, creating an anthem that is sentimental, bleakly funny, and ultimately hopeful in the exact ratio I adore. The campy call and response vocals in the chorus, Plan 9-ass guitar tone, subtly counterintuitive riff… it’s the stuff abductions are made of.

16/365

Sidebar: Cartuneland.com, the bizarre website of Donnie Jupiter (AKA Don Marquez)

As noted, Jupiter/Marquez mostly switched to illustration after the collapse of the Twinkeyz, and he's still selling his art on eBay. His own site, Cartuneland.com, is bewildering and uncanny in the way webpages end up when a brand outsources its content management to an overseas SEO firm. Samples of his fantasy paperback-style art are interspersed with bland stock photography, and the structure of the site is clearly based on a corporate template—only Marquez isn’t advertising himself as a freelancer, and the site isn't connected to his eBay page. The contact and social links are variously empty or broken, and the links to his past comics direct to Wayback Machine-captures from an Angelfire-era version of the site the artist probably built himself.

Strangest of all is the blog which, shockingly, has two posts this month alone—both of them about the Bodhran, an Irish hand drum. Of the six total posts on the blog as of this writing, two of them are interviews with Marquez. The others are ChatGPT-quality posts about general topics in music (e.g. “Connecting literature to art”; “What is a tin whistle?”) and a peculiar first-person story about learning to play the flute, all credited to someone named Rachel George. The idea was probably to pad out the blog with keyword-laden content to help the site become more visible to search engines, but to what end? Is Marquez really all that bent on becoming the most visible hit on “Don Marquez music” or “Bodhran for beginners”? You wouldn’t be able to tell from the interviews, which feature terse answers from the former Twinkey, such as:

Q: Many of your creations are based on classic horror and sci-fi films from the 1950s.

DM: I wasn’t trying to be retro.

Q: What’s missing from the current cinema that makes old films so memorable?

DM: Horror is a broad genre. Horror is a vast genre.

What we’re looking at here is most likely a Fiver contractor’s unfinished attempt to turn Jupiter’s website into a place to sell his original art, but as it stands it’s an oddly perfect web presence for a 73-year-old garage micro-legend and purveyor of swords ‘n’ tits fantasy. If anybody finds Question Mark’s Livejournal, please drop a link in the comments. And Donnie, if you're reading this, get in touch and I will fix your website for cheap!

[wytfut]

Bibblies (bib overalls)

I wear bib overalls. A lot. Probably more than I should (maybe?). 

In the past I was wearing them so much that folks around town would get confused in conversation, if I wasn’t wearing them..  Start stuttering half way thru the second sentence....  “who are you??”

My hero the late Roger Welsch wore bib’s religiously.... though most likely not during shoots of his sunday morning CBS program “post card from Nebraska” or when being in the limelight. 

Met up with Roger face to face at our local “Camp Creek Thrashers” show one year. There he stood with an arm full of farm implement tshirts (lingerie for his wife), and in bibs. 

As a kid growing up part time out on “the farm” in the Boelus area, you’d see bib overalls common place. This would be late 50′s thru to mid 60′s.  Nobody thought nothing of it. It was the standard wear of the day. Hell even “Ma farmer” would be wearing them with big cuffs, picking eggs, gardening, etc. 

Most times back to Boelus, the mission was weddings, funerals, family reunions, graduations, etc . It wasn’t uncommon to see menfolk wearing a brand new pair of bibs, 4″ cuff (some of those guys I’d swear as much as 8″), white shirt with tie, and a sport coat. Don’t forget the untanned forehead, with maybe a touch of “cow lick”. Some of these guys would even attempt to throw on a bit of shoe polish on their chore boots. Depended on their Wife I’d suppose if they were married. 

From the mid 60′s on to the mid 70′s....  The hippies picked up on that type of clothing. It was not uncommon to see “them” wearing bibs. Lots of cool patch's “Agnews Angels”, Ecology, Peace not war, Keep on trucking, American flag, etc.

I remember my Mom buying both grandfathers “paisley” printed bibs during this period of time. Which my Mom thought was hilarious. 

Both Grandpas wore them until they were rags. It had nothing to do with being paisley, it had to do with comfortable clothes and they had survived the depression days...... nothing was wasted. 

That move kinda took the thunder out of my Moms sense of humor, probably surprised her more than anything....  She’d I’m sure had imagined them being embarrassed to never wear them, where in the end it was quite the opposite. 

In 1972, At 18 years old. I bought a pair of bright orange corduroy “UFO” branded bibs. I was working for NDOR then, out western part of the state. I didn’t get the life out of them as I had wished,..... they shrunk short, and I was having a growth spurt. ... These bright orange UFO branded bibs, were my very first pair of Bibs.... that I remember.

1977 my Hunny and I moved to Waverly. With getting to know folks around town, I was noticing that the rural folks weren’t wearing bibs not near as much as the last time I was back in Boelus. ....  folks my age. Some of the old gaurd still were, but it was more and more rare as attrition changed. Maybe we were just too close to Lincoln, or not near enough to Boelus.

My go too’s were/are “keys”... but I’d wear “Clovers”, and the others (depended on who was on sale at the time). 

Suddenly around the mid 80′s I self noted that no one rural was ever caught wearing bib’s.   The younger farm crowd just wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them. Im not certain if it was defining farmers, or that very heavy people wore them too much. Could possibly be the “hippie” era.... 

Oh well.... I kept wearing them. Being a career linesman at the local Mom/Pop phone company.... I found out that most heavy winter gear, is just that heavy and very cumbersome.... at least back in the day...  Carhart no exception. 

Also if you sweat outside in the winters of Nebraski..... you were going to freeze before the day was done.

I found the perfect winter gear, (not extreme weather) was layered tshirts/sweaters, and a pair of jeans with demin bibs over that, and a heavy sweat shirt (hoodie).      This just confirmed my habit of wearing bibs to even more. 

SIDE NOTE: where did all those wonderful super heavy hoodies go. You just can’t find them anymore.. Todays hoodies, I’ve got to wear 2 sets, to get the same affect of those old timey ones.

My Wife dislikes me wearing Bibs most of the time, at least in public...   she doesn’t like them. Degrading in appearance, and they make a ton of noise in the dryer. 

Being a touch introvert, she doesn’t like to draw attention to herself, but doesn’t mind a good joke at times...   Possibly not my jokes, but a good guffaw...

Some friends of ours used to hold a somewhat formal Xmas dinner annually for a few of us.....

 SIDENOTE: Pam Owsley can cook (Hostess of the formal Xmas dinner)

And I had decided that I was going to wear my brand new pair of Bibs to this years event. Had a nice loud tie, and a button up shirt. ...   Patti finally gave in, only because we knew everyone there very well....   and well, they know I’m some sort of nut.    I wore them proudly,   remembering past times in Boelus. 

In the past 10 years or so, I’ve changed brands a bit. Duluth clothing line came out with their “fire hose” material based bibs that were gusseted at the crotch. 

OH LORDIE are those comfortable. Wear like iron (I still have my first pair). The material is nice to the touch, but bullet proof. 

Unfortunately, i found out they are made in China shortly after I bought them. I had it in my head with the name like “Duluth” ... it had to be American made.

 They are a bit hot (I found that out wearing them riding on a hot day home from a long trip), and shrink more than denim. They still fit, but definitely not oversized.

This past year, one of my shows on YouTube....  Puddin’s Fab Shop.... I learned that there is only one company left in the USA that makes bibs here. 

WHAT???? all of these big time old company’s with very American names, were not made in America??? Possibly one of the last commodities still made here.   NO SIR .... NOT TRUE.

Puddin’ who shoots his weekly show, lives in Oklahoma. And his proud state makes the last pair made in USA...    “Roundhouse” bib over alls. 

Visiting the web site.... I’m impressed. A very large assortment. Different weights, types, sizes, grades....     a kind of a  mecca for Bibs....

Guess there’s hope for me and my bad habits. Got a pair for Xmas. I’m impressed.

[nikolaiar]

I’m just put my Homestuck headcanon a cause I can fuck you:

John:

Okay so he so would’ve watched buzzfeed unsolved y’all do know that right?

He used to watch those “top 5 cryptid” videos when he was a kid and gave himself nightmares

He’s jewish

He wears only those really uncomfortable looking sweaters cause his dad says they make him look handsome

He was bullied so bad

When he gets older he smokes so much godbless

He has those glow in the dark stars on his ceiling and has a UFO nightlight

He has a slight 1950’s accent cause of his dad (you know what I mean)

Rose:

She watched Twilight. That’s basically fact.

She had a huge thing for Wednesday Adams and wanted to be her so bad, she got mad at Mom for liking pink and stuffed animals cause she wanted her to act like Morticia

She was in a gifted child program

She would’ve listened to Lady Gaga and lost her mind

She knits sweaters for John

She always packs a pillow for when Jade passes out

She has albinism and is arab. She’s also black and Hispanic but she doesn’t really relate heavily to it.

She’s no sabo and Dave makes fun of her for it

Dave:

He used to watch Teenage Mutant ninja turtles all the time as a kid

He grew up around a lot of Hispanic/Latino kids so he was really in touch with his Hispanic side

He talks so fucking fast you can barley understand him, and it’s even worse in Spanish

He was homeschooled until middle school (horrible decision)

He would always sticks up for other people at his school that were getting made fun of cause they reminded him of John (plus he was kinda bullied for having albinism but he’ll never admit it)

Bro would only talk to him in Spanish and couldn’t read English so Dave was a translator really young, hence why he knows so many big words and all that

He has ADHD so bad

He makes fun of Dirk for being allergic to avacados

Jade:

She always has an extra pair of glasses cause she breaks them so much

She draws furry art and is surprisingly good at it

She used to read yaoi when she was younger and when Dave came out she asked if he was a Uke or Seme

She frequently asks Rose to write her ABO centric fanfiction

She’s Polynesian and Brazilian and she’s really in touch with it

She is a polygot like her g-pa

She patches her clothes up all the time because she has so many holes in them from miscellaneous activities

Her and Dave played all the Sonic games and discuss shipping dynamics

Jane:

She stans John Constantine

She makes all her friends play Clue with her and do escape rooms

She gets Jake to sample her new recipes because he has a sweet tooth

Jane and Dirk do TV show analysis’s on everything they watch they can’t help it it’s just fun

She got them into pretty little liars and Glee

She listens to musicals so hard shut up

She’s black and Korean y’all know that right?

Roxy:

She loves Zatanna and cosplays her all the time, she tries to get Jane to join her as Constantine

She watched supernatural and lost her mind when diestiel was canon

She has those cat ear gamer headphones and streams constantly

She has albinism

She is Mexican and can’t understand Dave’s Spanish cause it’s so fast godbless

She would listen to Doja Cat

She always has her LED lights on and set to pink

She had a huge Harry Potter phase, Jake had all the movies so they’d all watch it while Jane and Dirk would say how it differs from the books

She can’t keep a plant alive to save her life

Jake:

He’s a polygot, dude knows like 80 languages

He knows how to play bass but is shy about it because Jade is better

He has an Australian accent and no one knows where it came from

He does Muay Thai and is actually pretty accomplished, he is teaching Dirk

Dirk beats his ass frequently in boxing and he gets angry about it

He sleeps naked and everyone finds this out the hard way

Dude has so much body hair good lord

He understands Dave when he speaks Spanish and by proxy Dirk

He cosplays with Dirk and Roxy

He has so many plants cause they remind him of his grandma but he forgets to water them frequently

He loves Janes pumpkin pie so much

Dirk:

He is Columbian and is the only one other than Jake to understand Dave’s Spanish

When Dave first met Dirk and he understood him he high key wanted to cry

Dirk is obsessed with Batman so bad and got all of his friends into DC comics

He makes Jake cosplay nightwing for “obvious” reasons

He and Jane have frequent gossip sessions over tea and baked goods

He has every My little pony figure you can think of

He gets really clingy in his sleep

When he first slept with Jake he held into him like a koala and wouldn’t let go until Jake woke him up

He gets his ass handed to him when he practices Muay Thai with Jake, but gets payback with boxing

Him and Roxy frequently troll on toontown and used to scam in animal jam

He watched American psycho and had a phase that he still gets bullied for by his friends

He waxes EVERYWHERE except his armpits and legs

He listens to Marina and the diamonds

He had a hardcore scenephase that he still isn’t completely out of

[nightcase]

Tag yourself as:

Tag yourself as one of my personas/moods

*******

Oldest Sibling: Chaotic and unpredictable- chill one moment, irritable the next. You really need quiet, but you get loud in the rare times when it is. You can be really funny and witty, but are also very tired. You probably have gifted kid burnout syndrome. You usually have a mug of cold tea, and live in a comfortable yet aesthetically pleasing witch dress. Your siblings are easily annoyed by you, but also think you're really cool. They don't really *get* you and your quirks, but you don't really understand them either.

Leading man: Got casted as a main character of your opposite gender in the school play, and got hit by an *unexpected bout of gender identity crisis*. This was forgotten but left unresolved once the play eventually ended. You live in sweaters and trousers, with your hair tousled and your button down only partially tucked. You have probably ran into a public place with a prop sword, prepared to do...something, but you forgot what it was upon entering said public place. Now you look like a fool, but it's okay because you also look like a hot twink and hence have no fear or shame. You look and feel like someone's 'poor little meow meow', and you love it.

The Bone Witch: The reputation you were given by the straight people at school. They say you steal bones and haunt nightmares- you mostly aren't complaining. After all, your ears are pointed, and your canine teeth are indeed sharper than average, and your leather-bound journal does look like a spellbook...but you aren't really goth or emo, you're just...too anxious to speak, so the next best option is to look mysterious enough that people speak to you instead. You probably walk with your head held high and your lips pressed into a firm line- what else are you meant to do?

Somewhat Dipper: You are definitely not a child, but a welcomed bit of childhood clings on. You were the kid with the book about cryptids, with that boundless enthusiasm about finding a 'real live monster!'. Nowadays, you're a skeptic- after all, you never got that epic Gravity Falls summer, and you've lived in Oregon your whole life. But a part of you still hopes...and on summer nights, in your flannel, hiking boots, and pine tree hat, you can sit on the roof under the Big Dipper and let a part of yourself believe that the airplane in the sky is a UFO.

Ink stained hands: You stay up until ungodly hours on weeknights, working and working on a new passion project. It'll likely be set aside by sunrise, hated by afternoon, and completely forgotten by the next day. But it isn't about the project so much as the feeling- of an endless flow of ideas, of magic flowing through your veins and to your fingertips, manically sticking things to a map that's really a moodboard in your mind. The full moon seeps through your curtains as you work by candlelight, brought to life by this dreamlike shadowtime where anything is possible. The illogical is logical, the wrong is right, the ugly is beautiful. It's surreal, strange, and you hardly remember it come morning- but you know it happened, you can tell by your ink stained hands.

Manic pixie dream girl: This is not me, but it is what I've been mistaken for. Perhaps it is you. Perhaps you have curly hair, pretty but unconventional clothes, and bring perspectives no one considered. Perhaps you are impulsive and bold and do as you please. Perhaps a boy and a girl both fell in love with you, and perhaps you liked them back.

(I did not reciprocate, and hence became more like their manic-pixie-repressed-memory.)

*******

Might add on to this later, as there's a lot more

[tertiaryapocalypse]

[id: character sheets of lukah, victor, jaime, cameron, and mel. each sheet contains a front and back view, a bag with detailed contents, a hand view, basic information on name, age, pronouns, and identities, and a color palette. extended description under the read more.]

moving these to my main !

[extended id:

the first sheet shows lukah hofwegen, a short, thin mixed chinese white american boy. he is 15. he is autistic, bisexual, and trans, using he/him pronouns. he stands with his hands in his pockets and his tongue sticking out. he has tan skin, brown eyes and round glasses. he has dark brown hair that is dyed blue, and a scar on his knee. lukah wears a trucker jacket with patches for nasa and aliens on the sleeves and a first robotics comp patch on the back. his shirt is black with the homestuck logo on it and he wears black basketball shorts with blue, white, and orange sports shoes. he has painted black nails, small nicks on his right hand and wears a variety of bracelets on his left wrist. lukah's backpack is black with pins and patches. contents are a red ds, spiderman wallet, walkie-talkie, comic book, adjustable wrench, a few text books, and a flash light. his phone case has a ufo on it.

the second is of victor holt, a tall, thin, white american boy. he is 16. he is gay & uses the vincian flag. he uses he/him. he has chin length blonde hair in a pony tail and blue eyes. he has acne and wears thick purple rimmed glasses. he wears a black hoodie with 'anti social social club' on the back of it, a heathers shirt, light blue skinny jeans and purple converse high tops. he has a scar on his chin. he has a black jansport backpack with bones embroidered around the logo. in victor's bag is a blue tomadachi, mini sewing kit, play script, purple pencil case, first aid kit and a variety of textbooks. he has a bandaid on his hand. his phone case is lavender with a skateboarding skeleton on it.

the third is of jaime perrault, a thin freckled white person. he is 15, gay, and genderqueer. she uses he/she. she has short wavy brown hair and green eyes. he wears a reddish beanie, a yellow flannel hoodie, a black shirt, light blue jeans and black doc martens. her backpack is dark grey with sunflowers on it. her phonecase is checker patterned with a yellow flower charm. in his bag is a spell jar for happiness, flower seeds, a pocket knife, a leather wallet, a black hydroflask with daisies painted on it and various textbooks, including one about flora of the west coast. she has three bracelets: one with the genderqueer flag, one with beaded flowers, and one that is red with white hearts. jaime stands with his hands in her pockets.

the fourth sheet is of cameron seong, a 16 year old chubby filipino kid. they use they/she and are aromantic and nonbinary. they have medium toned skin, braces, and short dark hair. they wear a green shirt over a black skeleton hoodie and dark grey patchwork jeans. she has brown leather boots. their shirt reads 'i eat children' and has a balloon image on it. their bag is a black hiking backpack, and contains comic books, textbooks, a sketchbook, stim toy, foldable knife, walkie talkie, protection spell jar and water bottle. they have a worm on a string designed to look like a bee and their phone case is black with a green lightning pattern card holder. their hands are scraped and scarred and they have a skull bead bracelet.

the fifth is of florence seong, a tall, thin japanese person with freckles. he is achillean and uses he/it pronouns. it has long dark hair in a low pony tail that's bleached blond at the tips. he wears a white collared shirt under a red knit sweater with white hearts on it, blue jeans, and black doc martens. it has clear glittery nail polish. his bag is a light brown messenger bag. it contains cat treats, a compass, crystals, a big sketchbook and a novel. his phone case is clear with a flattened fern in it. he wears a charm bracelet, a yellow friendship bracelet. it has heart shaped dangly earrings.

the last sheet is of mel franz, a thin mixed thai german jewish boy. he uses he/they and is aroace. they have a curly dark mullet and medium toned skin with beauty marks. he wears a black green day shirt, dark jeans, and sky blue converse. they have pink and blue hair clips, earrings, a necklace with the star of david on it, and a pink and blue friendship bracelet. their bag is a black jansport backpack. they have a clear phonecase. their bag has a walkie talkie, a pack of gum, a rubik's cube, an old camera, a scrapbook with hello kitty stickers on it, uno, textbooks, and a pencil case in it. he has pink nail polish. his full name is written as melvin franz with the 'vin' crossed out.

end id.]

[pupbeat]

heehee hoo hooo mystery twins

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Mabel and Dipper Pines from Gravity Falls standing in a pale yellow background. Mabel is on the left with multicolored braces and bandaids, and a pink sweater with red hearts stitched on. She has a headband with the trans flag and is looking off to the right, mildly confused looking. Dipper is on Mabel’s right, looking concerned off to the left towards Mabel, while holding the third journal open in his hands. His vest has a variety of pins including one with the trans flag, one with a UFO, and one with mothman. Both kids have a small speechbubble near them, Mabel’s saying only ‘?’ and Dipper’s saying ‘blah’. End ID.]

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

headcanons abt c!purpled beloved for u :]

-purpled is a hybrid; he’s part phantom, part cave spider, so he has multiple eyes and basically fairy wings !! (it makes him look kind of alien which is why he built his ufo)

-punz and him are brothers but they got separated as kids

-bedwars is an underground fighting ring so he leads a double vigilante lifestyle ! if puffy found out abt his truama from there she would drag him to therapy andjjahsj

-purpled named himself purpled bedwars when he was a kid bc he didn’t know his name but he was on the purple team (idk if there’s a purple color in bedwars let me have my hcs akdhahfh) and he was fighting in bedwars. he kind of regrets the surname

-all the c!minors end up bonding and purpled will end up protecting them even when he pretends he doesn’t want to :]

-he likes to do handicrafts!

-bonds with shroud and makes him a sweater! shroud makes him a sweater also. tommy and purpled get into a passive aggressive sweater knitting contest except tommy says that shroud makes them bc he’s a big man above sweater contests until purpled goads him into admitting it lmao

hope you feel better !!

Yooooooooooo these are some good c!purpled headcanons

i like how everyone hcs c!purpled to be someone’s brother lmao

[dvstbvnnies]

► basics;

Full Name: Eloise Paisley Moore Age: 20-25 Birthday: January 1st Sexual Orientation: Queer Relationship Status: Single/verse dependent Religion: no thoughts, head empty Occupation: Consultant at local wedding dress shop

► background;

Place of Birth: Minnesota Education: College student

► physical;

Faceclaim: Jessie Mei Li Eye Color: Brown Hair Color: Brown Height: 5′3″ Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: small ufo tattoo just above her right ankle, scar on her left shoulder from a slip on the ice when she was 15

► relatives;

Mother’s Full Name: Morina Moore Father’s Full Name: Felix Moore Siblings: 5. She is number 4 out of 6 kids. Sibling to @oneyeclosed‘s Lennon.

► personality;

Positive Traits: funny, bubbly, helpful to her family and friends, strong work ethic Negative Traits: very poor time management, never says no to work, stretches herself thin, lactose intolerant yet eats cheese and ice cream anyway

► misc;

Hobbies: reading, napping, cooking Favorite Music Artist: Doja Cat Favorite Subject: Art Habits: Biting her nails, bouncing her leg, leaving her jackets and sweaters all over the place, playing with her hair

[confusednarcissistwrites]

Scope It Out (D.M.)

(lol sorry for the photo quality)

Another request for the darling @thestarsaregivenonceonly​ that I took over to lighten her work load a bit 💛 I decided on Danny Middleton as I love the aesthetic of Hot Summer Nights and really couldn’t resist. I hope you enjoy, anon!

(cursing, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff to rot ur teeth)

You strolled up the driveway, quickly spotting Danny polishing the headlights of his car. Smirking, you hopped up onto the hood to get his attention.

“Dannyyyyyy,” you sang, posing for him. “Do I look like a good fake girlfriend?”

“Y/N, Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,” he gasped, jumping up to his feet. He wiped his hands with the rag he’d been holding, his eyes scanning over you with a smirk. “You look great.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, much to your chagrin. You wore a high waisted, denim skirt with a striped sweater tucked in and yellow socks bunched above your red, hightop converse. You felt good.

“It will definitely get McKayla’s attention having you on my arm.”

You turned away a bit, trying to hide the way your face fell. You cleared your throat, quickly slapping on a smile. “Thanks! I thought so.” You slipped off of the car, hopping into the passenger side while he grabbed his coat and wallet and climbed in next to you. You briefly wondered how anyone could possibly not see him as attractive as you watched him fix his hair in the rear view mirror.

“What?” he asked, feeling your eyes on him.

You turned away, rolling your eyes. “Nothing. Just if you keep playing with your hair you’re gonna look like Travolta.”

“Shut up.” He started the car and sped out of the driveway, making you laugh loudly. You turned up the radio and sang along obnoxiously, your hair whipping in the wind. Danny joined in and you really didn’t think anything got much better than that moment.

When you arrived at the fairgrounds, the sky was just beginning to change colors with the sunset. He’d wanted to get there early to “scope it out,” in his words. You’d told him he was ridiculous, but decided you didn’t mind if it meant you got to go on more rides. He parked the car and turned it off, exhaling a heavy breath. “Show time,” he grinned, slipping out of the car and grabbing his stuff from the backseat. He circled around the car and helped you out. “Oh, hey. You should wear this,” he said, holding his bomber jacket up for you to slip into. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you did as he asked. He then offered you his hand, wiggling his eyebrows. “M’lady?” You laughed softly, intertwining your fingers with his. You couldn’t help but think how well they fit together. It was quickly dawning on you that all of this was going to be more difficult than you’d originally thought.

Leading the way through the gates, Danny bought you both thick stacks of tickets for games and rides. He’d insisted on paying for everything since you were doing him this favor. Some favor. You walked hand-in-hand through the groups of little kids and teenagers getting their fill of carnival food and squealing with glee. You smiled, feeling the summertime spirit fill you up. You could almost let yourself forget why you were there.

“Now, I don’t think she’ll be here till later, so do you want to get something to eat first?”

“Sure,” you responded, allowing him to lead you over to all the vendor stands. You guys made small talk while splurging on all the greasy food your stomachs could handle. Talking to Danny had always been easy. However, you were grateful to see him drifting further away from the mopey kid he had been when he first moved to Cape Cod. Despite his baggage, he was finding his place here, and you were grateful to have been one of the first people he’d had to help him make the transition.

“Ready to go do some rides?” you asked, biting your lip excitedly.

He groaned loudly, holding his stomach. “Now that you conned me into eating all that shit? Are you serious?” he laughed. “Let’s do some games first.”

You pouted, but agreed. You got up to throw away the garbage and he followed after you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. “You look good in my jacket, girlfriend,” he teased. You punched him in the shoulder, making him laugh. You laughed too, shaking your head at him.

The sun had almost set and the sky was stunning, especially with all the carnival lights twinkling against it. You suddenly felt Danny’s arm tighten around you. “Shit, there she is.”

You looked up, quickly looking away when you spotted the blonde already looking right at you. Danny sped up a bit, walking you up to a ring toss game. “Laugh at something I just told you,” he whispered in your ear. You played along, letting your head fall back as you giggled. You quickly realized that McKayla and her friends had gotten in line a few people behind you and Danny, making your heart rate speed up. You’d never spoken to her, but her reputation well preceded her. Danny grabbed a ring, turning to flex for you. You resisted the urge to mock him, letting out more girlish giggles.

“Just throw it, babe,” you laughed, the pet name feeling foreign on your tongue. He smiled and tossed it, making it the first try.

You threw yours too, but missed by a long shot. You both got three turns, all filled with unnecessary touching and flirting that made your cheeks glow. He’d won a teddy bear that he promptly placed in your arms, planting a sweet kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you. He tugged you away from the front of the line, though you felt more like you were floating along behind him.

“That was perfect! I don't think she looked away once!” he enthused once you were both out of earshot.

You felt a sick feeling settle in your stomach, but quickly nodded and smiled. “She looked pretty mad,” you said, though you hadn’t really looked.

“Seriously? Oh my god,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt this excited about someone in so long, Y/N. She drives me crazy.”

Ouch.

You cleared your throat, looking away a bit. “Gross,” you replied flatly, giving in a bit of a look.

He just laughed, nudging you with his elbow. “Let’s go see if we can find some more lines to stand in near her.”

Your chest ached. You wanted to yell and scream at him and tell him how stupid he was being. You didn’t know McKayla, but you knew no one could feel the way that you did about Danny. Even so, you forced a smile and allowed him to pull you around the carnival by your hand.

After searching for about 15 minutes, you spotted one of your favorite rides. “Danny, pleeaassee. I love the Gravitron; it’s been my favorite since I was little! Can we go, please, please, please?” you pleaded, sticking your bottom lip out at him.

He looked around for a moment before replying. “Yeah, I guess we can real quick.”

“Yesssss!” It was your turn to pull him through the crowd to the line climbing into the UFO-shaped ride. It was hot inside the enclosed ride and music was playing loudly, just like it was every year. You and Danny found two spots next to each other and leaned back, waiting for the ride to start.

“If I puke on your shoes, it’s your own fault,” he warned, turning his head to look at you. The dim lighting accentuated his freckled cheeks and warm eyes in a way that made your breath catch. Before you could respond, the doors were closed and the ride began to spin. You couldn’t stop grinning as dizziness turned into the delightful press of centrifugal force pushing you up the wall. You squealed as Danny grabbed your arm in panic as his own seat hit the top. With a bit of effort, you were able to turn your head to look at him and catch the expression on his face before you burst into laughter. His cheek was smushed against the seat and his eyes were squeezed closed as he fought to keep his dinner down.

“Watch this!” you called over the music. He squinted his eyes open just barely to watch as you flipped yourself sideways, your legs draped over his center.

“You’re fucking crazy!” he laughed, seeming to be getting slowly used to the feeling. You flipped yourself back upright, feeling your head spin from the movement.

“You try!” You watched as he tried to outstretch his arm, but was quickly overcome by the force, his arm falling across your chest with his open palm cupping your boob. His eyes turned to saucers and he quickly pulled away. Laughter bubbled up from your stomach as you began to belly laugh at his awkwardness.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he laughed nervously, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. You could see his blushed cheeks even through your watering eyes.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m your girlfriend tonight.”

You both stumbled out of the ride, Danny looking a bit green around the gills. It was dark now and the light show of carnie lights was in full effect, the ferris wheel acting as its feature. You couldn’t help but stop and take it all in. However, your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” Danny asked softly, his hand resting on your shoulder. You smiled, nodding. “Okay, cool. I was thinking we could hop on the ferris wheel next so I can try and see where she went.”

How many times would you forget that that was the only reason he was here with you? You weren’t sure how much more you could take. “Yeah, lets go.”

His head was on a swivel the whole way, making you feel terribly alone despite his cold fingers tangled with yours.

Once you made it through the line, you climbed in across from each other in the small car, your knees bumping. You made your ascent slowly as they loaded the other passengers. For the first time that night, the silence between you felt heavy. You pulled his jacket a bit tighter around yourself, looking at him even though you knew he was looking everywhere but at you.

“God, I can’t see her anywhere now. Can you?” he asked, his brow furrow as he squinted at the ground.

“Danny, what the hell are you even looking for?” You even were a bit surprised at your sudden snap. But the words were already out of your mouth, hanging in the air between you.

He looked up at you, confusion written on his face. “Y/N, what do you mean? You know who I’m looking for.”

“I said what. Like, you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel with the most beautiful view of Cape Cod that you only get once a year, and you are busy looking at the ground for some blonde.”

“Some blonde? Where is all this coming from? Did you not come here to help me get her attention?”

Frustration ran through you as your voice rose. “For god’s sake! Can you really not see what’s right in front of you? Are you that unaware?” you cried incredulously.

“Yes, I see the fair. The lights are beautiful but-“

You cut him off, fisting his shirt and smashing your lips against his. He tensed initially, shocked by your brash action. However, suddenly all your words clicked into place in his head. His hand found the side of your face, kissing you back tenderly.

Fireworks.

It was more than you had ever imagined. His chapped lips gently pulled away from yours, his eyes fretting over your face.”Y-you meant you. Didn’t you?” he stuttered.

You let out a breathless laugh, leaning into his hand that was still pressed against your cheek. “Yes, you idiot.”

He leaned in slowly, awkward now in a way that made your heart flutter. You met him in the middle, kissing him again as you sat at the top of the ferris wheel; it felt too perfect to be real. Your hands let go of his shirt and slipped behind his neck to toy with the curls on his nape as you kissed him for all you were worth.

When you finally pulled apart, he was smiling like a fool, his cheeks pinker than you’d ever seen. “When d-did you..? How-“

“Not right away, but somewhere in the middle. Well before McKayla, but definitely confirmed once you started talking about her all the time.” It felt good to finally tell him all these things after so long.

“You were jealous,” he smirked, that signature smirk.

You pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away playfully. “Danny Middleton, so help me god-“

“I want you to be my girlfriend.” You stopped what you were doing, meeting his gaze. He was looking at you with a look you hadn’t seen before. He looked down, suddenly shy. “I-I mean will you- will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’ll think about it.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the winter prompt fills... 24, ot4, sfw? i just feel like indrid's snowflakes would be stupidly intricate and bespoke but stern is so much more likely to get annoyed by it than duck would be

Here you go!

24: i’m absentmindedly making snowflakes in class and you’re the nerd who can’t quit glaring at me every time you hear my scissors

Joseph always finds the first day of the semester tedious at best; he reads any syllabus he’s sent, then has to spend at minimum an hour listening to the professor go over it again. 

Thanks to the guy sitting two seats to his right, it’s now tedious AND aggravating. He’s tall, with dyed silver hair that he obviously did himself, his red glasses and worn, mostly black clothing suggesting someone who is in this class to fulfill a breadth requirement. That alone is not what aggravates him. It’s the fact the guy has been making paper snowflakes for the last forty five fucking minutes.

The snip snip snip is driving him up the wall. He knows people need to do different things to focus in class, but this is ridiculous. He glares every now and then, manages to keep his calm with the thought that the guy won’t be doing the same thing come Thursday. 

When he is, Joseph glares a little more and resigns himself to a minor headache twice a week for the next ten weeks. Could he move? Yes, technically. But he likes sitting up front, and he’s not going to let the scissors win.

------------------------------------------------------

“It’s ridiculous! His whole room must be covered in snowflakes by now, if he does this in every class.”

“Maybe he just does it in yours? You said that lecturer isn’t the most, uh, engaging.” Barclay pulls on his coat, waving to Mama through the window of the Lodge; he’s moved from waiter to line chef at the small restaurant, and Joseph is so proud of him.

“Maybe. I’m sorry, everything is just so...much. Last year was miserable and it’s not as if the change of the calendar makes things better. It feels like it takes the littlest thing to set off my anxiety.”

Barclay pauses their walk down the street, pulling Joseph’s hand to draw him into a hug, “I’m sorry babe. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thanks. Think I’m mostly in the mood for a distraction.” Barclay is warm and smells faintly of onion and butter, and while they should avoid causing a traffic jam on the sidewalk, he decides to stay like this a few seconds longer. 

“Good thing we’re having Duck and Indrid over for dinner tonight, then. I’m glad you’re finally getting to meet Indrid. He’s a weirdo, but he’s my kind of weirdo. Hope he’s yours too.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great.” They start back down the sidewalk towards the block of apartments where Barclay lives. Josephs met Duck a few times, usually at parties or group hangouts at the lodge. They bonded first over being in O-chem together, then over being trans, and now Joseph is always happy to see him when he walks into a party. He knows Duck is dating Barclay’s childhood friend, Indrid, but the other man having a semester abroad and working several jobs means Joseph hasn’t met him. 

He cleans off and sets the table while Barclay starts fried rice for dinner. Grabs the just-knocked door as Barclay plates things up, only to come face to face with snowflake guy. 

“Um”

“Hey Joe” Duck smiles at him from beside his silver-haired boyfriend, “this is Indrid. Indrid, this Joe. We ain’t too early, right?”

“No” he holds out a hand that Indrid shakes with a wide smile and an expression that indicates he has never seen Joseph before. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, both Duck and Barclay speak highly of you.”

“Likewise.”

Dinner goes well, once Joseph stops going in mental circles and makes the decision to not breathe a word of the fact Indrid is the mad snowflake maker. Indrid is a bit odd and awkward, but eager dives into a discussion of UFO sightings when Joseph offhandedly mentions them, and blushes charmingly whenever Duck kisses him. 

He also blushes when Barclay, in reply to a compliment about his cooking, says, “thanks, little moth.”

Joseph and Duck raise their eyebrows in sync. 

“Explain.” Joseph says with a smirk.

“It, uh, it was a nickname I gave him when we were kids. He’s always been smaller than me, and he was really, and I mean really, into moths.”

“That ain’t all that different from now.”  Duck loops an arm over Indrid’s shoulders. The taller man’s sweater hangs low around his neck, revealing at least two distinct moth tattoos. 

“I have a not always been smaller. I was taller in fourth grade.”

Barclay chuckles, “fair enough.” He sips his water and then adds, “little moth.”

Indrid chucks his napkin at him, laughing.

It’s such a nice evening that Joseph forgets all about the snowflakes. That is, until Indrid sits down directly next to him on Tuesday. 

“I thought I’d seen you before. What a coincidence.” Indrid takes out his notebook, spins a small ring on his finger, and smiles, “I’m glad we’ll have more chances to see each other.”

The tone feels almost flirtatious, but any appeal is instantly doused when he takes out scissors and a stenciled piece of paper. When he notices Joseph staring at the items, he cocks his head. 

“Would you like to try making a snowflake? It’s very soothing.”

“I, um-”

“I have spare scissors.” Indrid pulls out another pair.

What the hell, it’s a five hundred person lecture hall. No one will notice if two of the five hundred people are making snowflakes. He takes the scissors, and Indrid smiles brighter. 

-----------------------------------------

It turns out the therapeutic nature of paper snowflakes isn’t the only suggestion Indrid has for him. Which is why Joseph is now in the campus rec center awaiting the start of a boxing class. Indrid said he might enjoy it, and Barclay encouraged him when he mentioned it. And he has been looking for ways to stay in shape. 

“Fancy seein you here.” Duck, in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts, sets his bag down next to Joseph.

“So that’s why Indrid recommended this in spite of never doing it himself.”

Duck snickers, “Yeah, ‘Drid’s happy with his hot yoga, he tried comin with me once last semester and was so sore he swore off bein my gym buddy forever.”

“How’d you get into this at all?” He takes out his handwraps, starts trying to put the left one on.

“Minerva put me onto it, said it was good to have some cardio along with weight-liftin. Need some help?” He indicates the wrap that has quickly gone off the rails. 

“Yes, please.” Joseph holds out his hand. Duck takes it, hold gentle but firm as he demonstrates the correct motions.

“Few different ways of doin’ it, this is the one Minerva taught me.”

“I see.” He does, and is able to replicate the pattern on his right hand, but he also sees why Indrid looks like a cat melting in the sun whenever Duck holds his hand. 

Before his brain can careen down that track of thoughts, the class starts and all his focus goes to learning the proper stance, practicing ones and twos, and trying not to pass out from exhaustion. He;s not out of shape by any means, but the instructor does not mess around. 

When they’re done and dismissed to stretch, Duck holds up a hand, “nice job, man.”

He’s down to his tank top, flushed and sweating as beams at Joseph. Suddenly, he feels like he could do a whole second class without breaking a sweat.

----------------------------------------------------

“All I’m gonna say is that if I pull a muscle doing this, you get to tell Mama why I can’t come in to work.” Barclay eyes the yoga mats suspiciously.

“I promise, we will start with an easy one. Besides, half the reason we’re doing this is because it can help with the sore muscles that come with repetitive physical work.” Indrid brings up a video on his laptop, then pats the empty mat next to his own. 

Barclay sits down, crossing his legs to mimic Indrid’s position. He’d brought up the idea of them doing yoga together on the nights Duck and Joseph are boxing as a joke at first. All it took was the excited look on Indrid’s face for him to turn it into a serious suggestion. He’s never been able to resist making Indrid happy. 

In many ways, his friendship eith Indrid was how Barclay learned that what he wanted to be, more than anything else, was comforting and safe to other people. His friend was skinny and awkward, at times downright skittish, but he’d dive under the covers and cuddle up next to Barclay in an instant. Even the hormones and awkward crushes of puberty couldn’t drive them apart. Barclay’s always attributed that to the fact he wasn’t attracted to Indrid when they were younger, nor Indrid to him. 

No, his massive crush on Indrid emerged their first year of college. But Barclay was too unsure for the first semester and too busy deciding to drop out to be a cook for the second one to make a move. Then fell hard for Duck, and Barclay fell for Joseph not long after, and it seemed like everything worked itself out. 

As he struggles to focus on the screen rather than his best friend’s ass, he realizes he spoke too soon.

-----------------------------------------------------

“You’re not exclusive?” Joseph wipes his hands with a paper napkin. They’re grabbing a snack after their workout, the echoing Jamba Juice still preferable to eating out in the cold. 

Duck shakes his head, mouth busy sucking the straw of his smoothie and making Joseph wonder if his cheeks hollow that same way when he blows Indrid.

“I wasn’t when I met him, was still datin a girlfriend. We ain’t felt the need to change it. Both of us feel like, if we wanna be exclusive, or one of us wants to date someone else, we’ll talk about it case by case.” 

“That makes sense.” He feels the moment when all of Duck’s attention shifts to him. 

“What about you and Barclay?”

“We’ve never really talked about it.  I guess I...I’m happier with Barclay than I’ve ever been with anyone. If he wanted to be with someone else, I wouldn’t begrudge him that.”

“But would you be okay with it?” Duck’s drawl is softer now, and Joseph gets the sense he’s about to reach for his hand.

“I would. You’ve met him, the man has love to spare.”

“Comes with bein a big guy. Trust me, I’d know.” He winks at Joseph.

“Duck, you’re five’ six.”

“And built like a tank. Point is, you know what you want matters too, right Joe?”

What he wants? What he wants is to kiss Duck into the couch with Barclays arms around him while Indrid fucks the shorter man from behind. What he wants is to be with all of them. What he wants is too much.

“Right.”

------------------------------------------

“Indrid?”

“Yes, Barclay?”

“I hate you.”

A cackle rings out in the living room, Barclay unable to see it due to being in a pose that has them facing away from each other, “Nonsense, I’m your oldest friend.”

“Don’t care” he grunts as his leg twinges, “we’re getting a divorse. A friend divorce.”

“You wound me.”

Barclay growls, notices bare feet directly in his line of sight, “why are you-”

“Standing up like normal? Because the session ended while you were complaining.”

“Oh you little” Barclay pulls out of the pose, grabbing at the other man. Indrid hops back out of the way, only to trip over a shoe and fall onto his mat. He flips Barclay off with a grin, yelps when Barclay lunges forward and traps him with his body weight.

“Ooof, get off me, you menace.” Indrid laughs, shoving at him. 

“Nah, this is strength training. For you.”

“If you’re relying on my upper body strength to end this, I hope you understand we live on the floor now.”

“Uhhhhhh” Says a voice from the other side of the couch. Duck and Joseph are standing side by side in their gym clothes.

“I feel like we missed something.” Joseph, in spite of his pink cheeks, doesn’t look angry.

“Barclay is expressing his displeasure with this particular yoga sequence. Not that I mind.”  Indrid says from beneath him.

“Don’t seem in a hurry to get him off.”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, my sweet, no.”

He whips his head forward to stare down at Indrid. The other man smiles up at him, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“I, uh, I-”

Indrid reaches up and strokes his beard, “Barclay, we’ve been friends a long time. I can spot when you have a crush on someone, myself included. I mentioned it to Duck a few weeks ago.”

“Which, uh, works out well on a couple levels.” Duck and Joseph step around the couch, holding hands, “assumin that’s okay with both of you.”

“You already know my feelings on the matter.” Indrid sends a far filthier grin Joseph’s way.

Barclay wants to jump for joy, but more than that he wants to be sure.

“Is this what you want, babe?”

Joseph nods, “If it’s not too much to ask.”

Barclay sits up, opening his arms and Joseph kneels into the hug, “No, babe, not at all. I love you, love Indrid too, and if he and Duck both wanna be with you, they’ll get no complaints from me, just a compliment as to their taste in men.”

His boyfriend nestles closer with a relieved sigh, Duck and Indrid settling on either side of Barclay. Joseph murmurs that they should make a chart to figure out the details of everything, and he agrees. But they can do that in a minute. Right now, the four of them can rest and enjoying being here. Together.

[pbandjesse]

Today was an alright day. It was so beautiful out. I am sore but I had a good day. 

I slept good last night. I woke up with James's alarm at 6 but I fell back asleep pretty easy and then woke up at 8 and actually got out of bed at 830! Amazing. 

The weather was perfect though. It was a little to warm in the sun when I walked home after work, but this morning was lovely. 

I got washed and dressed and cleaned the apartment. It felt really good in here but it smelled very strange near the kitchen and I could not figure out why. James took the trash out when they got home but it didnt really help? It was very odd. 

After I finished cleaning I had a bagel and played animal crossing for a little. I worked on the grocery store Im making. And once I was happy enough with that I started working in the studio. I sewed up a few bears, and got eyes on them. Eventually I would stuff them all. I will do the finishing sewing tomorrow during DND. It will be nice to have something to do with my hands. 

James came home around 1030. They made me a grilled cheese and we hung out on the couch. James did some plant stuff today and a big bike ride. Apparently while I was gone James and SweetP were on the fire escape and SweetP was laying there and rolled over but rolled to far and thankfully James caught him but Jesus. Were both like. What would have happened if James wasnt there to catch him?? Terrifying. 

I headed to work and it wasnt a bad time. We were all a little stressed. But I made some deals with my 5 kids, and let them build forts around their tables and sit under the tables to do their school work. Which my manager did not love. But it mostly worked to keep them focused.

I mostly read my book. And tried to keep the kids focused. We would do a UFO project that the kids seemed to really like. I told them a story about Barney and Betty Hill and their abduction story. The kids had great questions. We talked about how some people believe it and some dont, and we talked about the reasons. And then they made these cute little paper plate UFOS, using the cups and plates from their snack. So we also got to talk about Post Consumer Materials. So it was a really full and good project. 

Thankfully I was never pulled in the office to have a talk about my last day. It was more like, hey Im sorry you are dealing with so much. And it made me feel a little better. I am worried about my parents and having the time to go spend there with them is going to help me and feel like I can have the space for helping my loved ones. 

We had to have two quiet times today because they wouldnt stop being loud. But once we got upstairs I played catch with a few of the kids and it was really nice. 

The last hour of the day was a little annoying because we lost WIFI, but it was alright. The kids found things to do. I shared my snacks with a few of them. But I was looking forward to just being done. James had ordered us Thai food and so I walked home quickly so we could go have a picnic. 

We got drinks and the picnic blanket from the car and went to sit in the park. It was just so nice being together and it felt so nice outside 

A dog came and said hi to us. And we watched someone fly a drone. Then I went through a pile of free stuff someone left in the alley. I got 2 sweaters to use for bears, and 3 cubby boxes. And a book. I love free stuff. 

When we came back here I worked on some plushie stuff. I have 14 fluffy bears cut out to bring to my parents so I have something to hand sew in my downtime. And I spent some time sorting my doll eyes, because I should order new ones soon and I wanted to get a handle on what I had. It was nice and I felt good. 

And now I am ready to take a shower and get in bed. My allergies are bugging me and my back is sore. But I am in a good mood. I hope you all are too. Goodnight everyone. Take care of yourselves. 

[tomcriuse]

@foxwulder asked: im interested in your answer to this. what do you think mulder was like at college, socially. give me all of your headcanon on this.

yeah idk why but every time i sit down to write headcanons, i end up writing an essay that could be true like none of it is grounded in. Anything

his first year, he was incredibly involved in his studies—obsessive almost. there isn’t a part of fox mulder that doesn’t love learning anything that he can get his grubby little goblin hands on. he would keep to himself, shy. quiet.

he spent a lot of time on his own. his apartment was just outside of campus, so he would spend mornings walking to class not quite seeing everything around him. if it was especially cold, he would stop and get some coffee at his favourite café on the corner of the cobblestone street where the door creaked when you opened it and the bell rang a little too loudly and the coffee was just a little too hot. every time he went there, the barista would see him coming from down the road and she would have his cup made before he walked in. he would smile kindly—awkwardly charming, almost—at the her and his hands would shake a little as he was counting out the change and he would comment on the weather like it was unusual, but the weather in oxford changes once a year and the barista would just smile in amusement and say see you tomorrow green eyes, and mulder would blink and rub the back of his neck and say see you tomorrow coffee girl. their interactions were short and limited to the five minutes he could spare on his walk, but sometimes he would bring her book recommendations or random fun facts that he learned from his school reading. it was small ritual, but it was but it was a great comfort that made him feel less alone.

he met his first real friends in one of his beginner psychology classes. mulder always sat in the second row—he thought that the first row was for the people who wanted to show off too much, and he thought the back of the room was for the people that didn’t care at all. he considered himself right in the middle and showed it in where he sat. it seemed that a lot of people felt the same way, because the entire row was empty save for him and two guys and a girl. there as a sort of unofficial official seating chart camaraderie. the boy next to him wore the same three wrinkled button up shirts in various shades of green and layered them with old sweaters with holes in them. the other boy was always put together—no matter if he got two hours of sleep or twelve. he wore designer suits in every shade and pattern imaginable. he never wore a tie but always brought a baseball cap to class, worn and old and stained. the girl recorded every lecture on her cassette player and transcribed them every night. her notes were detailed and organized and covered in coffee rings from the late nights. they were a group of ragtag kids—relics from different cultures cobbled together to create a beautiful sculpture.

since the first day of class, the boy with messy clothes and a charming grin would always come to class with no pen and no paper, and disarm mulder with his shy eyes and say hey man, can I borrow some? and mulder knew there was now borrowing, he was never getting it back but he couldn’t say no. he bought notebooks for him and cases of pens but he wouldn’t take them and so mulder just kept them in his bag and took them with him wherever he went. originally their interactions never went past that. it became their own unspoken language—a habitual tradition that followed them in everything they did.

this also means that whenever there was group work, which was quite often in a behavioral class, the four would always be assigned together. at first they would just meet in the library or sit on the lawn with the sun peaking out from behind the clouds, focusing only on the task at hand. the three of his classmates would mess around and mulder would through in a witty comment here and a sharp retort there, but he never told much about himself. all they really knew about him was that he was the american boy with messy hair, pretty eyes, and an unusually lanky frame. he wasn’t cold, but he wasn’t inviting. he didn’t want to get attached and lose more that he loved.

the more they were forced together, the more that mulder started accepting that he deserved happiness—that he didn’t have to push others away. that he deserved to be loved. they moved from libraries to his favourite café and from the lawn to the floor in someones apartment. they moved from homework to movies and witty anecdotes to stories. it was the first time that he had ever told anyone what happened to sam. they didn’t laugh, they didn’t ridicule. they told him that if anyone could bring her back it would be him.

every friday night, they would go to the indian food restaurant around the corner from his apartment and they would order half of the menu. they would laugh and argue about movies and psychoanalyse each other. they would be a little too loud and they would stay a little too long after closing and they would tip a little too much to make up for it, but they felt more at home in that restaurant than they ever did with their parents.

coming from old money in new england, the way that mulder was raised to appreciate people was through gifts. originally, he would buy sweaters new shoelaces or new wheels for his skateboard. he would buy mr perfect the ugliest ties he could find. he would buy the curly haired girl blank cassette tapes and hand-crafted mugs. but somewhere along the way, he wanted to give a part of himself to them to remember him by. he would hang out at the skatepark with sweaters at two in the morning. he would play soccer with mr perfect even though, if he had any choice, he would rather die than pick soccer over baseball.

it would be the small things. the way the curly haired girl would throw her straw wrappers at mulder when he told a bad joke. the way that sweaters threw his arm around his shoulder and leaned in like he was going to tell him the world’s greatest secret—the key to the universe. the way mr perfect would invite him to museum parties that his family forced him to go to, and the way that they would sneak off to the roof to watch the stars. listening to music as they counted the constellations. reading psychology books aloud. coming up with stupid conspiracies and trying to convince the other person that it was true. having paper airplane races. going to france for a weekend and trying every coffee place they could. trying recipes from thrift-store cookbooks that they ruin and end up ordering takeout. someone finding a small sunflower and giving it to him and him saying, we both know exactly what is wrong here. road trips to the countryside where there was a ufo sighting.

his greatest friendships in college were built on admiration and annoyance and fate and love.

at some point, people started to notice mulder. maybe it was his wild hair or his bright smile or his ringing laughter. maybe it was the way that he always kept his word or was always there for you if you needed to talk. everyone seemed to know him. he would say hello in passing to kids on campus and help you out in the library if you needed. but his focus was always on his friends—his family. outside of them, he had a couple friends maybe—acquaintances. people he would sit next to in other classes, someone doing peer review. fleeting.

it wasn’t that he avoided making other friendships, but it was that the bond between the four of them ran deep. they knew everything about each other—how crispy they liked the crust on their bread, how dark or light they like their coffee, whether or not they looped the end when they wrote a y, the way their eyes light up when they think of a comeback, the twitch of their eyebrows when they hear something that annoys them. it was nothing that you could learn from reading a book, but things only resulting from years of intensive study and firsthand experience. for every connection in their circle, one was a primary source and the other was a historian pouring over ever wrinkle and stain on the page.

however, when he met phoebe, things started going downhill. she would monopolize his time and steal him away from his family. she drove a wedge between them. it was his first real taste of betrayal—not his friends walking out on him, but someone who he loved driving them away. there was no more of the pure happiness that he felt with them. it felt wrong to take her to the places that they went together. he couldn’t eat indian food. he hated france. he bought everything new, nothing used.

it was like he was back to square one, almost: keeping to himself, shy. quiet.

[detectivejigsawpines]

Ford vs. His Family-part 1 (Breaking of the fellowship)

In which Mabel’s hearing is better than she lets on, and Ford has underestimated the significance of family to Dipper; as a result, Weirdmageddon is averted, but there is still a rift in dire need of healing.

“Mabel!”  Dipper burst into the attic room, overflowing with excitement.  “I just had the best day of my life! UFOs are real and there's one under the town and I saved Great Uncle Ford’s life and- and…”

He finally noticed that Mabel was lying unnaturally still (as in, lying still at all) on her bed, not acknowledging him.  She hadn’t even looked up when he ran in. His ebullience began to be replaced by confusion. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Tell me it’s not true, Dipper,” Mabel whispered.  Slowly she sat up. “Tell me you were joking!”

In her hand was the walkie-talkie, still crackling with static.

Dipper gasped; he hadn’t realized that it had started working again!

Before he could speak, Mabel went on, “Ford’s apprentice?  Seriously?”

He sighed.  “Look, I’ve been thinking and...this is a huge opportunity for me.”

As he spoke, Mabel huddled in on herself, clamping her hands over her ears like that could make this not real.  Then she exploded, with tears in her eyes, “Well it’s a horrible opportunity for me!”

Dipper flinched; he hadn’t realized that she would get so upset by this.  No-she didn’t just sound upset. She sounded... betrayed.

“I had the worst day of my life!” Mabel ranted, jumping off her bed and walking away towards the middle of their room.  “When we turn thirteen, the summer ends, and I have to leave everything behind!” She whirled on him, pointing. “You’re the only person I can count on, and now you’re leaving me too?  So me and Grunkle Stan are both gonna lose our brothers?!”

“Wh-what?”  Dipper blinked.  “What are you talking about?”

Mabel sniffled, and wiped her eyes on her sweater sleeve.  “I-I-when they were talking after he first came back, Ford told Grunkle Stan that he has to give him the house back at the end of the summer.  I didn’t wanna believe it-I thought they’d work things out and stop fighting by now. But this-this just confirms it-he’s using you to replace Grunkle Stan!”

Dipper’s stomach dropped even worse than it had when he’d first seen the drone come to life.  “No-no, that can’t be right. Great Uncle Ford wouldn’t do that.”

“Ask him!” Mabel challenged, eyes filling with tears again.  “Ask him if you don’t believe me!”

Dipper glanced uncertainly over at his backpack, where the rift was.

********

Ford had just finished setting things up to seal the rift and finally make things safe from Bill (at least until or unless he could design a more permanent solution), when he heard the sound of very young feet walking down the stairs.

“Let me guess,” he said without turning around, “Mabel didn’t take it well.”

There was a brief silence.  Then Dipper blurted, “Are you planning to kick out Grunkle Stan?”

The old scientist nearly dropped his equipment, and had to fumble to catch it.  He turned around, and saw Dipper standing there with his backpack clutched in his arms, actually looking like a twelve-year-old for once.

For a moment, Ford’s thought processes froze, and he was surprised to feel a pang of something that might have been guilt or nervousness in his chest.  Either way, he was annoyed by it, and tried to squelch it. But it was hard when the boy was still standing there staring at him, waiting for an answer...and looking increasingly crushed as none came.

At last Ford swallowed and said, “That-I wouldn’t put it quite like-that’s not important right now.  Dipper, I-I need you to hand me the rift so we can deal with this-”

“How can you do that to him?”

Dipper’s voice was starting to rise and tremble violently, and his hands were shaking.  “And why-you weren’t even gonna tell me about that when you asked me to be your apprentice?”  Now his eyebrows drew together, and his volume increased. “What, were you hoping I’d be so excited about everything I’d be learning from you that I just wouldn’t notice he wasn’t around anymore?!”

“No, I thought you would understand that I’m putting an end to my brother’s farcical scam that’s been going on for far too long!”

Dipper recoiled, looking like he’d been slapped with words.

Ford barely had time to process that there was actual hurt in his nephew’s eyes, before he glared, and stomped forward, yanking the rift from his backpack and shoving it into Ford’s chest.

“You can keep your dumb mysteries,” he whispered venomously.  “I’m going back to Piedmont with Mabel. Because yeah, she can be kind of annoying and insensitive sometimes, but she is not suffocating.  She’s my sister.”

And without another word, he turned and rushed back upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

********

The attic door opened for the second time that evening-but it was a very different boy who came slowly inside, kicking it shut with his heel and letting his backpack slip off his shoulder onto the floor.

Mabel could tell from his expression that he’d just been to see Ford, and what she’d heard had been true.  And a nasty, vindictive voice in the back of her mind kind of wanted to say “I told you so.”

Except Dipper looked so crushed that immediately she felt bad for the thought, and let it vanish like a wisp of cotton candy in the wind.

She got off her bed and went over to her brother, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“Dipper?  You okay?”

His mouth trembled, and he closed his eyes to keep her from seeing the tears starting to form.

Mabel wrapped her arms around her brother.

“Oh man, I’m sorry, Dipper.  I know you were excited about the possibility of staying here-”

She stopped talking when Dipper began sobbing, and just rocked back and forth, trying to soothe him.

“I can’t believe I thought he was so great,” Dipper whispered sometime later, moping on his bed with Mabel at his side.  “I mean-he acts so cool! He likes D,D&D, we can talk for hours about all the science and supernatural stuff that puts you and Grunkle Stan to sleep, he can pull off wearing a trench coat and turtleneck in the middle of summer-and all this time he was planning on-this.”

His shoulders drooped miserably.

“Dipper…”  Mabel gave him another hug.  “He’s still pretty cool. He’s just also kind of a poophead.”

To her relief, that finally got her brother to laugh a little.  But it didn’t last long before he was sighing again, and staring gloomily at his knees.  “We need to do something to help Grunkle Stan. He’s too old to go back on the streets.”

She cringed at the very idea of her favorite (she had decided that right now he was definitely her favorite, and likely to stay that way for the foreseeable future) grunkle being alone again; because even though he’d claimed he was fine after getting kicked out, something told her that he was lying.  And then her eyes brightened.

“I have a brilliant-beyond-brilliant idea!”

********

Stan came back inside from putting up more signs advertising the Mystery Shack, massaging his back in the spot that always seemed to be getting sore nowadays.

Moses, there were times when he hated being old and decrepit.

With a sigh he headed for the fridge and grabbed a Pitt, wondering if the two nerds were back from their little trip yet.  If they’d deign to descend from on high (metaphorically, since their typical meeting place was in the opposite direction-heh, there was some great joke material there) to mingle with common folk like him and-

“Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Stan!”

The chorus of young voices was soon enough followed by just the gremlins he’d been thinking about.  Dipper, he noticed, was looking kind of banged up, and he felt his protective instincts bristle.

I ask one thing of you, Stanford.  ONE THING!

“What the heck happened ta you?” he asked, looking Dipper over with concern.

And to his horror, the kid’s eyes watered...before he lunged at Stan and threw his arms around his waist.

This time, Stan didn’t try to make any kind of jokes or write this off somehow.  Not when he suddenly felt his shirt growing damp, and saw that the kid's shoulders were shaking.  He just looked over at Mabel for some kind of explanation, while putting his hand on Dipper’s head and awkwardly petting his hair.

“Hey, what-what’s the matter, huh?”

Mabel came and hugged him too.  “We know that Great Uncle Ford’s gonna throw you out at the end of the summer, Grunkle Stan,” she said.

Stan cringed.  “What’re you-”

“You don’t have to pretend,” Dipper murmured, voice muffled against his jacket.  “He admitted it already. We’re so-so sorry.”

At last Stan stopped just standing there awkwardly, and put his arms around them both.

****

When the kids had both calmed down somewhat Stan got them all settled around the kitchen table, with sodas for everyone, and the whole story came out-from the rift created by the portal, to Ford’s offer for Dipper to stay.  The last one in particular had Stan resisting the urge to bring out his bat and see if Ford could dodge getting it in the teeth (he figured it was even odds; for someone who was supposed to be such an awesome butt-kicking space traveler now, Ford had still needed to be rescued twice ever since he came home, so he wasn’t as great as he thought he was).  He resisted in lieu of checking the kid over to make sure he wasn’t banged up too badly.  To his relief, it was mostly just a few scrapes and bruises, easily taken care of.

“...So we came up with a better idea,” Mabel said as Stan sat down, and took a gulp of his soda.  “We think that at the end of the summer, you should come back to Piedmont to live with us!”

She got a blast of Pitt cola in the face, but Stan was too busy gasping for air to appreciate the perfect comedic timing.

“Sorry,” he said after he got his breathing under control.

“It’s okay,” Mabel assured him as she rinsed her hair out in the sink, “my soda was empty anyway, I needed a fresh drink.”

“Gross, Mabel, that was in his mouth!” Dipper pointed out.  “It was probably all full of old man backwash!”

“Hey, watch it!” Stan scolded.

They all laughed, before he sighed and got back to the point.  “Kids...I don’t think your parents really want a grumpy old codger leaching off them.”

“Oh come on,” Mabel argued, coming back to the table.  “They’d understand! You can tell them that you’ve retired and want to spend more time with us!”

Stan shook his head.  “It ain’t that simple, sweetie.  Besides, I can handle myself-I’ve done it before.”

“But you shouldn’t have to, Grunkle Stan!”  Mabel put her hand on his arm.  “You’re our family, and we wanna help you out.”

“Yeah, maybe you could start a new mystery shack downtown!”  Dipper grabbed his notepad and pen, and flipped to some pages where it looked like he’d actually started turning this into a plan.  “Or a novelty shop-that way you wouldn’t be leaching at all, you’d be earning your keep! If you really wanted to, you could just stay with us until you earned enough money to get a place nearby or something!”

Stan...got a little glitter in his eyes again.

“I’ll haveta think about it,” he murmured.

The kids cheered.

********

In the gift shop, the secret door behind the vending machine slid shut.