#fantasy baseball buy/sell

[victusinveritas]

Writing advice from Nick Mamatas.

Some science fiction/fantasy creative writing students I have encountered, a field guide

1. World-Savers: these are generally older students, have no real interest in SF/F, are writing a book to express political or metaphysical ideas they consider to be radical and necessary for the future of life on Earth. In reality, they're writing long Platonic dialogues about their ideas, and authority from various culture and pop culture tropes (aliens, noble savages, fairies, resurrected presidents)–to the extent that their work has a plot at all, it involves a Christ figure transforming the world via a sacrifice. The ideas aren't very radical either: "pollute less" and "love your neighbor, unless they're a dick" are common. Occasionally the message for the world has to do with something more prosaic: reverse budgeting, the evils of Affirmative Action, the importance of installing solar panels, how dare Eileen divorce me and fuck like three guys in the six months after she moved out, etc. These students are utterly confused by actually existing SF/F stories they read, and often interpret them in bizarrely sexual ways. They don't believe in numbering the pages of their manuscripts, and often attempt to submit work in PDF so it won't be stolen.

2. Children with Money: recent college grads, or drop-outs, these people have read Harry Potter, Twilight, and perhaps three or four other best-selling young adult series and nothing else. They are easily upset, especially when someone suggests reading more. Their main interests are YouTube personalities, video games, and a sort of Puritanical pansexuality that actually makes smut boring. They often "forget" to read the work of other students, and have no idea how to use a printer. They warn the other students that their story might be "too intense" because it contains, for example, a depiction of a car accident. Their stories are routinely awful, and always contain a character named "Aidan." Sometimes their parents come to class to make sure I am "not a serial killer", as though they could possibly tell from looking at me. (Oh, "Mamatas" IS a white person name...I guess?)

3. Anointed Ones: They contact me, or the people running the workshop, beforehand, to make sure that "the class is right" for them. They have file cabinets full of their stuff, and after many decades of toil, they are ready to reveal their work to the world. They just need a mentor, and an ally—could I be the one they've been searching for lo these many years? Prior workshops were full of callow teachers and jealous students. Why they were only allowed to submit ten pages a week! Some of them have actually read fairly widely, but you wouldn't know it from their work: three adjectives per noun, a fetish for speech tags other than the word "said" or no tags at all. Often these stories include as characters philosophical prostitutes with very sensitive nipples. They never miss a class and often show up more than thirty minutes early. One time, I had to hide in a closet to avoid an extensive pre-class conversation with one.

4. Frightened Proles: These have read Stephen King and Dean Koontz and sometimes even horror writers from this century. They generally have working-class jobs and write about working people who encounter the supernatural on the late shift. They really hope they can sell their novel soon, but they know it'll take a lot of work. (Ten more drafts oughta do it!) They wear baseball hats to class and look like enormous eight-year-olds. They get very excited when I mention professional wrestling or do a taiji move in class. Their significant others are often nameless—"my girlfriend" "my wife." They buy my books and bring them to class for autographs. Some of them get published after, especially flash fiction.

5. Repairables: decent writers, often involved in the SFF "scene", who need to be fixed after a bad experience with Clarion or another workshop or an overeager editor at a semipro magazine who told them some idiot nonsense they decided to believe because they were told it was "unprofessional" not to consider editorial feedback. These either get published...or lost to MFA programs, video game jobs, fandom, podcasts, or other writing-shaped pursuits. Most of them are ferocious name-droppers; the ones who heard of me beforehand know to keep quiet though.

[thetreetopinn]

Ended up taking a nap after I got home from work, and had a really strange, ADD style dream.

ADD style? What's that mean? It means the subject of the dream jumped every few minutes.

It started off somewhere I don't recall but it got to a point where I was following people trying to buy a Christmas tree, and the guy selling it to them said they should buy one that had been spayed... whatever the fuck that means... like... so they wouldn't end up with Christmas trees growing in their front yard or some shit?

This led to driving through a forested area looking to get a tree from the wild.

Then, suddenly, isekai moment where suddenly, a pilot from some fantasy-style gundam is swapped with the guy driving the car. The pilot freaks out. Smash-cut to the fantasy-style gundam the driver is now piloting and HE is freaking out, desperately trying to figure out how to get back, accidentally activating some super powered weapon and blasting the landscape.

The HUD remains as the scenery changes and now we're in a PS1 style turn-based roleplaying game--like Chrono Cross or Final Fantasy 7 (the original version) only there's vocalized dialog, and somehow... it becomes a version of Dragonball Z Abridged in my head and Cell is the guy being fought and his HP drops dangerously low and he starts freaking out that he's about to get killed.

Suddenly, and with no prompt or connection at all, I'm remembering a scene from the movie "Dave", specifically the scene where he goes to throw the first pitch at the baseball game. And now there's a discussion about how that scene was filmed. Either they filmed at an actual, real-life game and told the audience what was happening. Or they hired a bunch of extras to fill the stadium section by section and composited them together--as evidenced by my brain's recreation of the scene where in the audience is clearly copy-pasted but with their clothes swapped around.

Smash-cut to being on a fucking wave runner on a lake, slowly navigating around other people while trying to get out past the 'no wake zone' buoys. A water-cop (that's what I'm calling the authority figures that are responsible for making sure people who are boating aren't doing something stupid like driving a boat while drunk) approaches me and low-key demands to know where my dad is--calling him by name--because somehow he knows my dad is the one that owns the wave runner. I tell him my dad is currently in his home at $Address and that he has given me permission because I'm his son, and I'm salty because the water-cop is being a jerk. I pull out my phone with a video-call ready to start with my dad in the thumbnail basically asking the water-cop "You wanna fuckin' talk to him since you don't believe me?"

Smash-cut to docking the wave runner at a dock near a cute little house and workshop where I supposedly work on stupid silly crazy contraptions like hooking up a wave runner impeller style engine/motor to a canoe just to see what happens.

In the dream I have a 'realization' of "I don't want to do anything else with my life, I just want to live out here in the woods next to the lake and make stupid silly crazy contraptions."

This is about when I woke up and I was DEEPLY confused... I don't know what the fuck is going on with my brain.

[moodybearart]

Meet the Artist!

I've always wanted to do one of these but every time I attempted I never liked how it came out. But I actually like how this one turned out!

So anyway,

My name is Lulu. I've been drawing since I was a child. When I was young, my mom couldn't afford a lot of toys for me so she would buy cheap art supplies at the dollar stores and I loved it and it stuck with me.

I love drawing so much. Creating is such a huge part of me that I also have many creative hobbies including photography, cooking, sewing, and I really would like to learn crochet.

I'm not a huge fan of most sports. I played softball for 11 years so I enjoy baseball and I also like F1 racing, but other than that I am not a sports fan. Avocados are too mushy but I like guac (which is mushed up avocados- listen, I don't know why either, okay?). Bugs creep me out and I hate cold weather. I would love to have 6 months of summer and then 6 months of fall. that would be my ideal year.

I own a small business called MoodyBear Art LLC. I sell my artwork as stickers and bookmarks currently on Etsy as well as offer personal commissions and open to freelance work. I love drawing cartoon styled art and I am heavily inspired by fantasy.

I drew myself here in my current favorite outfit. I recently got this adorable strawberry sweater and it's my fav and I wear it as much as possible.

Thanks for taking some time to get to know me!

[they2aproblem]

Post #003: Minimalism in Gaming

I touched on this in the Madden post regarding tradeins to pay for newer titles. Selling old games and systems on eBay, trading into GameStop and local retro gaming stores, is not just a cost saving measure. The bottom line is, I want LESS games. I want less games, I want more shelf space, and I don't ever want to be one of those YouTube guys that shows in the background of their videos their entire collection(apologies to Scott the Woz, you'll never see this but your videos are great). I got to a point in about 2016 or so when I saw my shelf space filling up with Maddens, and NBAs, and NHLs, and WWEs. There is no reason to hold on to every sports game from every year. My goal is to have only 4 sports titles in my entire collection, all of which consist of the current year's baseball, wrestling, football, and hockey games, with some exceptions of course. Since that time to about now I have been in the process of limiting the number of games that I have been buying and reducing the number of games that I own. This year's Sony, Microsoft, and Nintendo video events in June have been most helpful where they revealed a total of 3 games in total that I am interested in. On top of limiting my purchases, I have been selling games that I know I am never going to play again. There have been times, before buying a collection or a compilation of a series, I will sell the individual copies to pay for a portion of it. There are certain titles that are immune this process which include the cannon Mario and Zelda games. The Switch's library has helped me collect a bag catalogue of games that I had missed out on. I would love to own more NES games, but with the Megaman compilation on the Switch and Final Fantasy I through IX on the Vita, I have no reason to bother with the original NES versions. I only own 11 NES games and twice as many N64 games, and that's ok. Every single one of those games are games I want to see in my collection for the rest of my life and there are none that I want to add to it that I know of thanks to these compilations. With the Baten Kaitos "duology" coming out in the 2nd week of September, I am excited now more than ever on the future of the Switch. In conclusion, I'm not a crazy cat lady, I'm done hoarding games and other stuff like I am one.

[waddiemathew]

How NFTs are Revolutionizing the World of Sports

Sports fans have always been passionate about collecting memorabilia related to their favorite sports and teams. From autographed baseballs to game-worn jerseys, fans go to great lengths to acquire unique items that they can treasure for years to come. However, in recent years, a new type of collectible has emerged - sports NFTs. In this article, we will explore the world of sports NFTs, the different types of sports NFTs available, and how they are changing the landscape of sports memorabilia collecting.

What are Sports NFTs?

Sports, NFTs can represent various things, including:

1. Game Highlights

Sports NFTs can be used to represent specific moments in a game, such as a game-winning shot or a spectacular catch. These NFTs can include video highlights of the moment, as well as other metadata like the date and time of the game, the players involved, and more.

2. Player Cards

Sports NFTs can also be used to represent individual players. These NFTs can include player statistics, personal information, and even autographs. They can be used as digital trading cards, allowing fans to collect and trade their favorite players just like they would with physical cards.

3. Team Memorabilia

Sports NFTs can also represent team-related memorabilia, such as championship rings or team jerseys. These NFTs can include information about the history of the item, as well as images or videos of the item itself.

People can purchase sports NFT collectibles from sports NFT marketplaces.

Types of Sports NFTs

Now that we know what sports NFTs are, let's take a look at the different types of sports NFTs that are available:

1. NBA Top Shot

NBA Top Shot is a blockchain-based platform that allows users to buy, sell, and trade NBA-related NFTs. These NFTs are typically video highlights of specific moments in NBA games, and they have become incredibly popular with basketball fans.

2. Sorare

Sorare is a fantasy soccer game that uses NFTs to represent individual players. Users can buy and sell these NFTs, as well as use them to build their fantasy teams. Sorare has partnerships with some of the biggest soccer leagues in the world, including La Liga and the English Premier League.

3. ZED Run

ZED Run is a blockchain-based horse racing game that allows users to buy, sell, and breed digital horses. Each horse is represented by an NFT, and users can race their horses against other players for prizes.

Conclusion

In conclusion, sports NFTs are changing the way that sports fans collect and engage with memorabilia. These unique digital assets allow fans to own a piece of sports history in a way that is accessible, authentic, and interactive. As the popularity of sports NFTs continues to grow, we can expect to see even more innovative uses of this technology in the world of sports.

[primorcoin]

New Post has been published on https://primorcoin.com/sorare-partners-with-the-premier-league-for-a-fantasy-football-game/

Sorare Partners With The Premier League For a Fantasy Football Game

On January 30, Sorare, a Paris-based startup specializing in blockchain-based fantasy football games, announced its partnership with the Premier League, the top tier of English football leagues. The collaboration will launch digital cards featuring Premier League players for the Sorare game.

Sorare’s fantasy football game is currently valued at $4.3 billion, and the terms of the multi-year agreement with the Premier League have not been disclosed. However, it is estimated to be worth more than the initial £30 million deal that was announced in October 2022.

Sorare – Premier League Announcement. Image: Twitter

Besides football, Sorare also offers NFT trading cards for basketball and baseball fans thanks to its partnerships with the NBA and the MLB, respectively. Both options feature all the clubs affiliated with those leagues. But football fans have way more options to choose from, considering that Sorare offers over 300 officially licensed football clubs, according to its main site.

Such a major roaster includes major European leagues, so users can compete with global football legends such as Lionel Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo, or Gerard Piqué.

Sorare Users Can Choose Any Premier League Player

Thanks to this new partnership, Sorare users will be able to choose some of the biggest stars of English football, such as Tottenham Hotspur’s Harry Kane or Manchester City’s Erling Haaland, as their licensed players to collect and trade.

“Football fans around the world can now collect, buy, sell, and trade officially licensed digital cards featuring every player from across the Premier League’s 20 clubs — building and competing with custom teams to win big rewards, just like a professional club owner.”

Sorare’s new endeavor is a free NFT game that lets users choose eight players and participate in free competitions twice a week, competing against managers from different countries for rewards based on the real-life performance of their players.

The Premier League Wants to Keep Evolving Football

Richard Masters, CEO of the Premier League, stated that the English football league “is always looking for ways to engage with fans”. The partnership with Sorare will allow the Premier League to continue to evolve in an industry that is growing rapidly and already has millions of players worldwide.

Masters added that they hope to continue collaborating with Sorare to bring the Premier League closer to its fans, even if they are not physically present at the football field.

“Sorare’s digital cards and innovative online game represent a new way for them to feel closer to the Premier League whether they are watching in the stadium or from around the world. We believe that Sorare are the ideal partner for the Premier League and we look forward to working closely together.”

According to Sorare’s statement, the platform will launch new gaming features, including specific Premier League competitions and draft-based gameplay, and capped-mode competitions.

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[thelukaskaiser]

Record Store Clerk

I miss the record store clerk. There are still record stores - some sell vintage LP’s, some sell a mix of new and old stuff, some even have CD’s! Which - incredible to see in my lifetime CD’s go from being the most reviled medium to something people are nostalgic for. 

But at these new fangled record stores, the people working there are keenly aware of the status of buying physical copies of music - banged up and bruised, unconfident. And acting accordingly, these truly passionate and kind hearted record store clerks in these new fangled record stores are HELPFUL - they want you to make a great purchase - and fall in love with their recommendations so that you’ll come back again and again - and maybe one day find yourself in a world where buying music is a normalized activity again. 

Wow - these are nice people, these clerks and salesmen behind the counter at the new fangled record stores. Which makes them absolutely unrecognizable with the quintessential, platonic ideal Record Store Clerk of yesteryear that I miss oh so much. 

You see, when you’re younger, you get nostalgic for the good times. But beyond nostalgia there’s a certain wistfulness for the fuller experiences of our childhood - and I’m a 40-year-old man who consumes music - and have a defined though flexible sense of my own taste - and I will say the FEAR that the Record Store Clerks instilled in me - at all the various record stores - is what shaped that taste. 

Picture this kids - you’re 9 years old and you love the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Which makes sense because it’s 1991 and the singles from their breakout album “Blood Sugar Sex Magik” are being blasted across the radio airwaves and all over MTV. 

You’re a kid - so you don’t know what day of the week albums drop - you just know that you saw this one was dropping soon. So you ask your parents to drive you to the record store and let you buy the album with your allowance money. 

Now - CD’s at that point in time, in 1991 - cost an insane amount of money. Their LIST PRICE - in 1991, 32 years ago, was $19.95. Most CD stores would sell them at a discount - between $11 and $13. 

That means their list price, in today’s dollars, was $43! And they were “on sale” for $27. 

Music was VALUABLE back then. And you’re in the store - a 9 year old having saved money from doing chores for like, maybe a whole year and you approach a surly looking Record Store Clerk. You walk up slowly, feeling intimidated by his black baseball cap and horn rimmed glasses and his intense, furrowed brow. He’s reading a paperback novel of some sort and you hope that as you slowly walk up to him, he’ll see you in his peripheral vision and look up and engage with you. 

“What do you need, young man?” He says to you, in your fantasy. 

“Acceptance for who I really am,” you say in your fantasy. “Both in the long term - but also, in the short term - by you acknowledging and complimenting me on my taste in music.” 

This fantasy - it never comes. Because the Record Store Clerk never looks up. He just keeps reading - licking his fingers as he turns the pages. You’re standing just beneath him now - and he looks like a bird of prey, perched on the ledge of a building, cooly ignoring the pigeons and doves that hover around - his eyes set far away. 

You clear your throat. He looks now, down at you. 

“Yes?” He says, in a tone that FEELS like “No.” 

He waits. “Need something?”

“Uhh…” you’d arrived with a purpose - but somehow, your nerves got the best of you and can’t seem to remember why you’re in this record store to begin with. 

“Hmm” he says and returns to his novel. 

Just then, you remember your father is in the store with you. You glance to your right to see him, his face constrained in confusion. That’s MY son there? you imagine he’s thinking. You see him cringe and then he whispers “Red Hot…” 

He’s jogged your memory. 

“Uh…” you muster the energy to interrupt the Record Store Clerk again. He’s really not happy this time. You glance at your father - he mouths it again “Red Hot…” You sigh to yourself, slump your shoulders, look down and say:

“Do you have the… Red Hot Chili Peppers album?”

“God no. Of course not,” the clerk says. 

You’re thrown off guard and you look at your father, who it seems, is also thrown off guard. He comes over to your side now. 

“Uh, do you know when it’ll be in stock?” Your dad asks. He’s meek now, cracking under the pressure of the Record Store Clerk’s seemingly invincible force field of scorn and derision. 

“Hopefully never,” the clerk says, turning his gaze back to his book. 

“What… What do you recommend we get instead?” My father musters the strength to ask. The clerk tosses my dad a copy of NWA’s debut album “Straight Outta Compton”. There’s a parental warning label on the album but in the dizzy haze of the moment, my dad pushes through, ignores that subtle signifier and buys me one of the most seminal influences on my budding artistic psyche. 

Because this surly fellow - the Record Store Clerk - refused to sell us something that he deemed in poor taste. More than a music reviewer - more than a musician himself - a Record Store Clerk believed, with intrinsic honesty and valor, that MUSIC was VALUABLE. 

They understood these objects - records, tapes, CDs, sometimes posters - weren’t just disposable, replaceable pieces of “media”. These were coveted and magical objects of DESIRE. 

I don’t want to be “sold” on things. I want someone who cares more than I do to give me a doorway into their passion. I want someone who is willing to laugh at me or tell me I’m a fool for asking the wrong question because they’re confident enough in their belief in their products. 

The luxury space sometimes approaches this - but I don’t think passion should be a commodity that only rich people can afford.

There used to be sandwich shops in New York where you were told they would kick you out if you ordered wrong. 

There are hot dog spots in Chicago and cheesesteak places in Philly like that too. Dedicated, committed people who work and live and breathe a “brand” and its wares so confidently that they don’t tell you why you should buy it. They tell you why you’re maybe not worthy of making its purchase. 

What happened to these temples of passion? These record stores and comic book spots and movie palaces and sandwich spots with a line around the block - the more we’re told we’re doing it wrong the more we want to come back? 

Has our on-demand culture made the “work for it” culture that defines taste go away? The only time you see a line around the block for a store is if they’re selling sneakers and people think they can flip ‘em on eBay. 

That’s not right - passion shouldn’t be transactional. It should be transcendental! 

I want the Record Store Clerks back. I want them at their perch, telling little kids they’re not allowed to buy that pop album because there’s this new noise band they need to listen to instead. 

I want this next generation - Gen Z sure but also Gen Alpha - to feel what it was like to have the unbearable weight of a confident and over qualified Gen Xer sitting behind the counter somewhere, ready to possibly get fired for their passion. 

I miss it. I’m not sure we’ll ever get it back. But I pledge that I will seek out experiences that challenge me and make me uncomfortable - that don’t please my algorithmic choosing but challenge my tastes. 

I don’t want a quiet machine to guess what I might like. I want a scornful teenager to tell me what I like is BAD and give me recommendations as to what I should like instead. 

Grumpy, ironic machines. Is that too much to ask for? 

(It might be)

[yahoofantasy]

We breakdown the top surprises in the first half.

[hilarychuff]

uptown girls in my asoiaf au graphic series

Who says money can’t buy happiness? Sansa Stark has everything a girl could want — a gorgeous apartment, a passport full of stamps from countries all over the world, a precious little pet pig, and soon the perfect 22nd birthday party. It’s poised to be one of the biggest nights of the year, attended by all the most famous socialites in the city and half of the music scene, and the second she sets her eyes on starving artist and upcoming singer-songwriter Jon Snow, she knows just who she wants to be her birthday present.

Myranda knows him from the industry, swears he’s supposed to be celibate or something, too committed to his art to invest any time in his love life, but Sansa knows how to make men want to go home with her. And Jon does, and then he stays there for three days in a haze of takeout and sex and songs he strums while bent over one of her father’s famous guitars. He stays until the constant candle light stops being romantic and her postmates account stops working, and then he tries to clumsily detangle himself and return to the real world while she tries desperately to convince him to stay one more day in this perfect fantasy she’s built for him. And then he’s gone. And then the money’s gone, too.

Before she knows it, she finds herself sleeping on her friend’s couch and playing nanny to a screaming, sickly little boy, spending her days bringing him to school and ballet and doctor’s appointments, trying to pretend she knows what she’s doing when an 8-year-old acts more like a well-rounded adult than she could ever hope to be. Her nights she spends alternately dodging Jon’s calls asking her to drop his lucky jacket at his record label and leaving him her own voicemails suggesting she could bring it to his place. 

When they finally meet at a restaurant, when she delivers his jacket scorched from a kitchen fire of her own making and made new with dye and shoe polish and the skin of a teddy bear she sacrificed to the task, he tells her he can’t see her again. He can’t get dragged back into her world, he says, a world where she seems free of the burdens the rest of them have to bear, especially not now that he’s finally landed a record deal, not now that his music is just as much a business as it is an art. He’s too close, he says, too close to having everything he wants, everything he’s been working for. She can’t make him stay, and so she lets him go, and she doesn’t mention how everything is falling apart around her as Myranda kicks her out, Robin fires her, Petyr tells her she has no choice left other than to sell her father’s guitars, her mother’s dresses, even her brother’s signed baseball card collection. 

All of it is gone, just like that, and Jon’s song, the one written about the four nights and three days he spent wrapped up in her bed sheets is playing on what seems like every radio station. But she’s strong. She’s a Stark, Ned and Catelyn’s daughter, Robb’s little sister, and she can make it through this. She can be brave. Her life may no longer be a fairytale, but it’s hers, and she’s determined to make something of it. 

ft. sansa as molly, sweetrobin as ray, jon as neal, littlefinger as roma sort of, cersei as bob sort of, harry as huey, myranda as ingrid, ned stark as tommy gunn

[potatotrash0]

Your DR magic AU, hand it over 🤲

Okay I have two other anons and I’m just gonna split the character ideas among the three asks. I don’t quite have a plot thought out, and most of these characters’ concepts have only existed in my head up until now...bare with me skdjksjfkd

Mm I talked about them briefly in Prom’s ask? But here’s a more in-depth thing of the THH fighting styles.

Makoto is a mage-type. (I used fighter, support, and mage to describe the various adventurer types it’s temporary just roll with it) Again, he can’t really hold magic for very long? He’s got a large mana reserve but it’s hard to activate and harder to control, so he’s currently working on mastering the little bullets. In the future, I imagine large barrages of bullets would sort of circle around him like they would in the barrel of a gun.

He probably got in accidentally? I’m not entirely sure about this, but I think there’s an entrance exam for Reserve Courses and he was probably forced in on Komaru’s behalf for some reason.

He was basically running the entire time until the very end when he panicked and suddenly the entire field was wiped clean from him waving his arm. HPA saw that, decided that he was worth training, and put him into the Main Course. He doesn’t feel very good about getting in that way, but HPA isn’t exactly empathetic like he is. Again this is like one of three ways I think he could’ve gotten in with the rest of the cast because I’m indecisive skdjsjf

Kyoko is another mage-type, in general the Main Gangs of each game have various themes. THH’s trio has a magic theme, they all use magic. She doesn’t use a weapon, though I’m thinking her gloves act as a limiter of sorts?

As a general rule, more mana means less control, and being half-demon gives her a lot of it. Her gloves help her regulate her mana output so that she doesn’t use too much of it when attacking and tire herself out. Later in the timeline, I imagine there might be a scene where she takes them off and fights off some enemies to buy the rest of the class time to escape something? She would get trapped in the process, but I think this would happen after she’s worked with Makoto for a while and she would trust him enough to believe he would come back for her if she didn’t return.

Oh this isn’t related to her fighting style but on the topic of her being half-demon, that’s mainly because I thought it was boring for everyone to be human and I’m a big sucker for fantasy species so yeah. She’s a cambion.

She has purple-tinted skin, horns that curl up and are fairly close to her head, a thin pointed tail, pointed ears, her pupils are slitted, she’s got carnivore-style teeth, her nails are longer and sharper by default. Whenever she uses the full extent of her magic, her scleras turn dark purple and her irises turn white. Oh yeah her scars came from an accident she had when she was young where her magic got out of control and burned her hands. Her mom’s the demon by the way, for no particular reason, I just thought that the Kirigiris would stay human in this and I don’t know anything about her mom’s side of the family.

I just realized I never said Makoto’s race skdjks he’s human!! He and Komaru just happen to be a special case and have a lot of mana. Most other humans in this AU aren’t so lucky. (cough hinata cough cough)

Byakuya, again, uses magic. He’s the only one who uses a weapon in the Trio, he uses a staff specially made by the Togami family. He also knows how to use a sword and a bow.

I haven’t put too much thought into him, but I know for a fact that his adventuring outfit would have a big sweeping cape later in the timeline. In the beginning though, he just has a stupid expensive suit. The cape comes in later as he, Kyoko, and Makoto start to group up more and more.

I’ve decided that adventurers in this AU group up just as often as they go solo, and while Byakuya would initially be solo, he would deem Makoto and Kyoko strong enough to work with whenever they’re taking on a difficult job.

Groups would change to have matching designs the longer they’re partnered up, and capes/cloaks happen to be the THH Trio’s Thing, as in all three of them would have a cape/cloak of some sort. Byakuya because he’s pretentious, Makoto because he thinks it looks cool, and Kyoko because she uses the cloak for practical reasons like storing things and keeping a low profile when needed. Oh and Byakuya’s bloodline is of royal elven descent, their business is selling spellbooks, runestones, potions, reagents, any magical item you could think of.

Sayaka is a half-siren mage! She mostly uses charm and illusionary magic, as well as healing so that she can support her allies. Later on, she might learn water magic so she can actually deal damage as well. I haven’t decided on her weapon of choice, perhaps she uses a lyre or casts spells from a book. I’m also debating having her learn hand-to-hand combat instead of water magic?

I just like the idea of someone coming up and trying to challenge her, thinking they’ll beat her easily, and barely getting a hit in before she kicks their legs out from under them and tosses them over her shoulder like they weigh nothing. She deserves to take out people twice her size and be menacing, as a treat for the amount of disrespect she gets in the fandom. And I want her to take Leon down a peg because he definitely acts a little like a cocky frat boy sometimes.

Speaking of Leon, we’ve got our first fighter-type!!! I could have him use a baseball bat but that’s boring so I’m thinking he might utilize items as well as a weapon? Bombs or grenades that look like a baseball and explode on impact, baseballs that ignite when thrown and act as fire balls. Alas, I don’t think about him much so this is all just me throwing ideas to see what sticks.

Whatever the case, the main thing I know would happen is that he frequently gets help from Kazuichi and Miu because he just cannot for the life of him stop breaking his equipment. He’s reckless and rushes into battle and now that he doesn’t have Kanon to stop him from setting stuff on fire all the time, he gets detention a lot. (And no she isn’t into him like in canon, I refuse to acknowledge that she ever was.)

Chihiro......they can’t fight djfjsjfjjf. They specialize in making tech and weapons, and in the beginning, would mainly use robots that they programmed to support their allies. Though, they do end up training with Mondo, Sakura, and Aoi to help them become better at combat, and eventually they join everyone else on the front lines as a ranged fighter/support type.

Also, the robots would kinda follow them around like pets. Cute little guys that can also shoot lasers. The robots are powered by mana crystals and each one has a different personality and magic type! Sometimes they follow around different people, the electric one took a liking to Mondo and you’ll see it floating around while he works out. They’re buds.

On the topic of Mondo, he’s another fighter-type! He’s more hand-to-hand combat. A controlled berserker, if you will. Probably started out fighting guys in his hometown and progressed to clearing out monsters when Daiya got concerned about his temper? Perhaps. Maybe. I do not think about Daiya I apologize.

Oh wait hold on. I’m looking at his character art and he’s got a hammer.........it’s decided he uses a warhammer, the biggest one they’ve got, and it’s probably a mana-based weapon. Specifically electric. He and that lil robot wipe the battlefield with their opponents >:D

Taka is probably a fighter-type? I can’t for the life of me find where I read this, but apparently he’s really good at self-defense so I imagine he does hand-to-hand combat as well as sword-fighting for the Noble Paladin Aesthetic.

Hifumi was originally a mage-type, but upon second thought, I’m making him a support-type who uses items and potions and stuff! I like the idea of him making fun little bottles and potions themed after his favorite animes and mangas..........he also definitely helped everyone design their adventurer outfits. He’s the only reason that Makoto’s outfit isn’t boring as hell.

Celeste is, of course, a mage-type. She’s Miss Lolita of course I have to make her an ethereal magic user alright also I love her and I love mages let me have this skfjdkjf. As for her weapon, my first thought was her having playing cards that she throws HxH style?

Or she could summon goons to fight for her, playing into the whole loyal servant dream she has. They would be vaguely themed after the cards, so there would be a jack, king, queen, and joker, all of different magic types depending on the suit of the card she throws. Electric for a spade, fire for a heart, ice for a diamond, something along those lines.

I’m also considering having her little...finger armor thing? I’m thinking of having that cross into her magic, where she attacks with claw-like things formed out of mana. Of course she could also just. Use the cards to cast spells directly skdjksjfkhf

Sakura is definitely a fighter-type. Again, hand-to-hand style, but I imagine she’s more controlled and strategic than Mondo. I can’t see her using a weapon, so I guess she’s like one of the only characters to fight exclusively with fists.

Mukuro’s a ranged fighter-type, but she can also do melee. She uses magic-based guns, ones that shoot mana infused bullets. They have a variety of effects depending on the type of bullet and magic. (I’m not a gun person so take this with a grain of salt.)

Bullets that break apart might be laced with electric magic so that they can shock a target from several points, or fire magic if she’s aiming to start a fire quickly. Exploding bullets are usually used with fire magic, but she might switch to ice if she wants to create a barrage of ice shards for...some reason, I don’t know. There’s more combinations I could probably make, but I’m. Not here to spend an hour researching guns. Not right now at least, who knows what I’ll want info on in the future.

Mmmmmm I’m starting to lose patience here so forgive me for the shorter explanations. I might throw in a fun fact about them for ✨ flavor ✨

Junko’s a fighter/mage-type! She uses a scythe and laces the blade with magic. She could combine it with fire magic to create a flaming scythe and go nuts with it, or she could just channel general mana and slam the blade into the ground to create a big crack in the ground.

There’s about an 80% chance she gets several weapons later in the timeline. Her scythe, a spear, possibly a gun. Monokuma probably exists, I like to think Junko ran into a smarter monster and tamed it and kept it as a slightly feral pet.

Also, yes, she’s still a big adrenaline junkie who gets off on despair. If you see her fighting things she knows are out of her league, mind your business.....actually, call someone to help before she gets herself killed. Please.

I haven’t decided what Aoi will be just yet? I’m veering towards fighter/mage-type, she could use water magic and maybe a leg-based fighting style. Possibly judo or taekwondo. I.....do not have any ideas for her. However I do know that she and Sakura would have a bunch of combo moves together dkfjkejfkdjjd

Toko is a mage-type! She probably uses a book to cast spells from. Or just uses her hands. She would fight ranged, I don’t think she’d want to be up in the action. Too much stress for her, y’know? I

As for Syo, she fight differently than Toko! She technically uses dual swords, but the swords can also connect to create a giant pair of scissors. Again, this is just sort of a fun character thing, but she gets to hate Byakuya in this AU. They have arguments and get on each other’s nerves a lot, but I think the rest of the class usually separates them before anything serious happens.

At some point after Toko befriends Komaru, I like to think that Syo gets a proper fight scene with Byakuya where she rips into him. I don’t think Toko would want to hurt anyone though, even him, so Syo would probably leave him with a few minor cuts at most.

Afterwards, I think Byakuya would quiet down with the insults with Naegi and Kyoko’s requests. (Well. Naegi asked him to try and be nicer because he was worried that they might fight again. Kyoko just bluntly told him that he needed to stop being a jerk and start considering everyone else’s feelings.)

Skfksjfkdh ah. I also like to think Komaru and Toko were initially partnered up by HPA for a job. They were assigned to deal with a couple of school kids wreaking havoc on a nearby city with some monsters they semi-tamed?

But after finishing the job, they decided to partner up permanently on their own. They probably have a few combo moves that Komaru came up with, Toko tweaked them to make them actually possible with their skill set and weapons.

Hiro is...possibly a mage/support-type? He’s probably a bit cowardly and freaks out when on the front lines, but he can use a crystal ball to attack from afar. I’m also considering giving him tarot cards so that he can toss them and attack from several points at once?

Or the ball could shatter at some point during the story and he could just roll with it and spread the shards out during battle to attack from several points at once. They could also be used to create a magic cage of sorts, like electric fence but only electricity.

Okay that’s everybody oh my god. I have plenty more stuff about this au, this isn’t even half of it trust me lmao. I’m sorry about this being so long I didn’t realize it’d be this wordy!!!!!

[platypanthewriter]

Baby’s First Punk Rock Concert: 1/2

Billy hummed to himself, washing his hands.  His knees were scuffed from the cement floor, his throat was raw, and he wanted a drink to wash the taste of latex away.  He grinned in the mirror at the man behind him, who slid an arm around him and squeezed, licking the sweat off his neck and kissing his ear.  

“You sure you don’t want to leave now,” he whispered, rocking his pelvis against Billy’s ass. 

Billy laughed, elbowing him away.  “Show hasn’t even started.”

“Give me your number,” the guy tried next, and Billy looked him over.  

“Just here for a good time,” Billy told him, leaning in for a kiss as he slid by.

“Have a good night, you’re beautiful!” the guy yelled as he opened the door on the rest of the bar, and Billy’s cheeks heated as he considered heel-turning right back in and letting himself get hauled to some dude’s apartment.  

I can make it a couple weeks, he thought, without calling up some random asshole to tell me I’m pretty.  That’s a thing a normal person should be able to do.  

The bar was crowded—everybody wanting to get their drinks before the opening act started—and Billy got jostled into exactly the kind of homophobic dickheads that made trouble at Dicks shows.  He wondered, in the back of his mind, what looks they’d have on their faces when Gary Floyd walked out in drag.  They didn’t like a t-shirt, apparently, from the slurs they were guffawing, and the actual lost child they had braced against the wall was swallowing convulsively, with huge eyes.  The bartender caught Billy’s eye, and jerked her head at the kid. “Go ahead and make another dent on my bar, Billy,” she shouted.

“Hey hey,” Billy said, leaning between their heads, and interrupting their flow of critique of the kid’s t-shirt.  He slid his arms around their shoulders to show them his hands. “—lookie, my knuckles’ve just about healed up from the Nazis I hadta smash into that bar!  Y’know what that means,” he whispered against the ear of the one to his left, who’d gone rigid, staring around at a grim bartender and silent patrons,“—what that means, is,” he told the one on his right, “—my knuckles are itchy.”

They scrambled away, and the kid they’d had cornered took a shaky breath.

“Freebies on me,” the bartender smacked a beer and a bottled water on the bar next to them, and Billy took a long grateful pull on the beer.  

The kid stared at her, then the beer, then Billy—and Billy tried not to snort his beer as the wide brown eyes followed his throat as he swallowed, then looked over his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned, before blinking back up, red-cheeked, at Billy’s face, and grabbing clumsily for the water.   Of course he’s hot for me, Billy bit back a grin, a middle-schooler who sneaks in to see a band that made J.D.’s Top Ten Homocore hits.  “You, uh, here with a…” he trailed off, frowning around, “—a—somebody else?”

The kid’s eyes widened, and then narrowed at Billy, and he nodded.  

“You want me to stick around until they show back up?”

The kid’s eyes narrowed further, and he startled as somebody rattled by on a skateboard, so Billy backed away.  “Stay over here, and that bartender will keep an eye on you,” Billy told him, finishing the last couple swallows of the beer, and waving for another.  

“I won’t let him get drunk—what are you, twelve?!  The hell did you get in here—” the bartender yelled over the crowd, pushing back from the bar to run to the other end.

The kid didn’t look like he was gonna answer the question.  He still held the water bottle with his fingertips, like it might explode, and Billy accepted a shot glass from somebody who clapped him on the back.    

“Anyway,” Billy tossed back the shot and shifted, thinking.  His shoes stuck to the floor. “If you need anything.  You want a t-shirt?  I can shove people around.  Get you in to buy a t-shirt.”

The kid flushed even more red, staring at him, and Billy grinned, shaking his head.  

“Okay, well, you know I’m here.  Drink lots of water, okay.  Only gonna get hotter in here.  You got earplugs?”

“Wha?” the kid whispered, clearing his throat.

“Here,” Billy said, slapping some in his hand, “—thank me when you can hear tomorrow.” 

The kid nodded, watching him go, and Billy resisted swaggering, not wanting to be the cause of a child’s dislocated jaw.

 He was zoned into the music, yelling, when he ran into the girls.  He'd yanked his shirt off and shoved most of it into his back pocket so somebody with “VEGAN DYKE” scrawled across her bared breasts could write “QUEER” across his chest in lipstick.  He'd always looked good in red.

“Hoy Billy!” Kali yelled, and he waved back, chugging enough of his beer to not spill it as he wove through the crowd.  

“Hey,” he shouted back, clinking their drinks together.

Her lips thinned, scanning the crowd, and then she stood on her toes to yell up.  “Where’s the jackass?”

“What?!” 

“Your other half?!”

Billy cleared his throat.  “He wasn’t,” Billy shouted back, then mouthed, then mimed a wedding ring, pulling it off, and tossing it over his shoulder.  

She elbowed him, grinning, and yanked him down by the shoulder.  “You’re better off—BETTER OFF,” she tried to stage-whisper over the crowd, loud as microphone feedback in his ear, and he shoved her off.  The kid from earlier was staring at him through Kali and El like a pygmy owl through underbrush, and Billy shrugged, waving.  

 When the set ended, El surveyed the crowd, her hands over her ears.  “Maybe you’ll find a new boyfriend here,” she suggested. “D’you see anyone you think is attractive?  I could—”

“Pretty happy as a free agent, for now,” Billy cut her off, laughing.  “Don’t drag anyone over.”

“I could, though,” she said, squinting.  “What about that one?  He could pick you up, probably, we could ask him to try.”

Billy choked on his beer, and Kali smacked his back.  

“We're not holding try-outs, El.  I think he wants to shop around,” she said, and Billy nodded, eyeing El’s pick.  She knew him better than he thought, apparently, because the line of the worn t-shirt stretched over the man’s shoulderblades down to his very tight jeans had Billy’s definite attention, and the lipstick made something relax between his shoulders.  But the stranger was screaming something at the stage, and waving a clenched fist, and Billy shook his head.

“Want me to see how the front of his jeans look?” El asked, miming a crotch bulge, and even Kali nearly spit her drink, cackling.  

“No, nah,” Billy laughed, grinning down at her.  “Think I’d like to try somebody who doesn’t start out pissed off, this time.”

Kali grimaced, shook her head, and squeezed his arm.

El shrugged, sliding an arm around Kali, and the kid.  “We’re thirsty.  Oh, this is Will,” she told Billy, pointing behind her as she and Kali cut away through the crowd, and the kid nodded, glancing up at BIlly with narrowed eyes.

“Me too,” Billy shrugged, glancing over at him, and lighting a cigarette.  “William, I mean. Billy Hargrove.”

“Will Byers.  Um, thank you.  For earlier,” the kid said, finally, and Billy nodded, squinting at him through the smoke and dim lighting from the stage.  He had a too-large shirt hanging half off one shoulder.  It had some kind of calligraphy on it, hard to make out.

“…aren’t you a little young for beer?” Billy asked. 

“I’m thirteen.  Almost fourteen,” the kid shot back, and Billy remembered telling people he was six and three-quarters, and covered a snort. 

“Yeah, sure.  Y’know, when you’re old enough to go to school, they’ll teach you how to count up your age,” he said, dodging a swift elbow.  “Nice shirt.  That an elf?”

“…shut up,” the boy frowned down at his shirt, and firmed his little pointy chin, clenching his hands into fists.

Billy shrugged.  “Looks like Lord of the Rings or something.  Elves.”

“It’s Cirith Ungol ,” Will hissed up, scowling.  “I know, not the place for metal, here, those assholes told me—wait, you—you read Lord of the Rings?” 

“Yeah, who knew, I can read,” Billy whispered back, and Will sighed, rolling his eyes.  Billy relented. “I even read the Silmarillion.”

“Really?!”  Will squeaked, beaming, and bouncing a little on his toes, and yanking his t-shirt taut to show it off.  “Cirith Ungol is from the Lord of the Rings!  They’re—they’re a band named after a place in Lord of the Rings!”

“I know,” Billy grinned down at him.  “On the way to Mordor.”

“I—I like Faramir,” Will bit his lips, swallowing, his eyes searching Billy’s face.  “I—I reread all the Faramir parts, I l-love Faramir—”

“Everybody wants Faramir,” Billy whispered back, holding his hand under the QUEER on his chest like he was selling his titties on the Price is Right.  “I’ve got the book in my car,” he added, clinking his glass into the kid’s water bottle.  “How d’you know El and Kali?”

“Oh.  My brother’s girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend teaches their little-league team,” Will answered, as though that was a comprehensible thing to say, and Billy choked on his beer.  

“Kali’s in—” he cocked his head, grinning through the crowd, and trying to imagine her in a baseball cap and white button-up uniform.

“Oh, she’s not any more.  But their mom—”

Foster mom, Billy thought, wondering whether Will wasn’t aware, or just didn’t see the difference.

“—she gets everybody who wants into Little League, says kids should get to swing bats around.  Um. I—I do want a t-shirt,” he admitted, still beaming that bewildered smile up at Billy like he couldn’t believe he was awake, and Billy covered his grin with his beer.  

“Let’s elbow our way in, then,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.  

 In the thick of the crowd, and the thick of the smoke, it was hard to get people’s attention, but Billy smacked shoulders, and yelled in the politest way of his people, and once they turned around and saw Will’s determined jaw, and he pointed from his shirt to the merch table, they pushed him onwards, yelling a course open. 

By the time they reached the stage he was travelling with a company of pierced, painted protectors suited for his fantasy novels. He thanked a towering woman in platform combat shoes, a person in a clown suit of indeterminate gender, and a group of men with their arms around each other like they were in a musical football huddle, and they smacked his shoulders.  Will giggled, bouncing a little on his toes.

At the table there were shirts for both bands, and Will steepled his fingers before selecting one of each. The crowd around him, now invested, cheered, and he ducked his head, grinning.  There wasn’t a shirt small enough, of course, but Will looked delighted with the two t-shirts he bought, hugging them to his chest and turning to face the tide of humanity, when the other band walked onstage, and introduced themselves as the Big Boys. 

The singer did a spin in his tutu, waving to the audience, and everyone yowled at the first riff of guitar, shouting “Biscuit!” and song names.  Will’s eyes widened as he got shoved back into the table, nearly overturning it.  Billy planted his feet against the press of people, feeling like a herd beast protecting its child from a stampede.  The surrounding punks started yelling—both about Will, and at the musicians, and Billy crouched, patting at his own shoulders.  He tried to yell instructions through the wall of noise, but Will just blinked at him.

Will’s hands were white-knuckled on his haul, and Billy slapped his shoulder to get his attention, pointed to all of him, and then Billy’s own shoulders again, and held his hands out.  After a headcocked moment, Will nodded, and Billy picked him up and plonked him astride Billy’s head. Like that, Will could see, and Billy could dance, as much as anyone could, wedged in the crowd.  Somebody started throwing food—Billy honestly wasn’t sure whether it was the crowd or the band—and the opening riffs of Fun, Fun, Fun started, and Will nearly climbed onto his head. 

The singer whooped, waving, and Will waved back—and the guitarist beckoned him up, grabbing some other fan who’d crawled halfway onto the stage and hauling her up by the belt.  Billy elbowed closer, steadying Will as he climbed on the stage, and the singer introduced himself as Biscuit, grappling Will and a pile of other fans to sing the chorus into the microphone.  

 The rest of the concert was a blur of adrenaline, as Billy panicked a bit over Will’s choice to crowdsurf to him, but he arrived safely, and Billy double-checked that he was wearing the earplugs.  Will climbed back up his shoulders, shouting along with the lyrics, and Billy relaxed into the pounding drums, letting himself be jostled and heated by the music and people roaring around him. 

After the last encore—when most of the audience was still onstage, singing the chorus of Hollywood Swinging for the seven hundredth time, and the Big Boys had yelled their signature “Now y’all go start your own band!”—El ran up and grabbed Billy’s arm, waving to Kali.  

“Couldn’t get to you,” Kali panted, grinning up at Will.

“I got on stage!” Will yelled, and El cheered.

“You don’t have anything written on you,” she told them, pointing out the “ANARCHY!” written across her back, between the straps of her tank top.  “Do you want me to write something on you?  It’s sticky.”

“No,” Will giggled.  He let himself drape forward against the back of Billy’s head, heaving a long sigh.  “That was fun, fun, fun.”

Billy caught the momentary relief on Kali’s face, before she smiled.  “Our ride’s probably waiting,” she said, for some reason, to Billy.

El blinked.  “Oh!  Will, have you called Steve?”

“Noooo,” Will snickered, high on adrenaline, and possibly the smoke.  “I still need to call him.”

“Mmmm,” El frowned, glancing at the door.

“I can stay with him,” Billy offered, shrugging.  “Since he, y’know.  He goddamn...lives on my head now.  Climbing monkey.”  Will giggled.

“Oh,” El gasped, wide-eyed, “—Kali.  Steve’s coming to pick Will up.  Steve.  Billy’s going to meet Steve.”

Kali drug her away, muttering about yentas, and waved over her shoulder at them.

“Thanks for the ticket, Kali!” Will bawled after them, and Billy snorted, shaking his head, and went to get another bottle of water for both of them.  

“Gotta pee?” he asked his nesting owl, and Will hugged his head.  

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, I do,” Billy told him.  “You gotta get down sometime.  You can call your ride.”

After a long moment of silence, Will sighed, swinging a leg back over Billy’s shoulder, and he helped manhandle the kid to the ground.

Despite his original plans coming to a queercore concert, Billy hurried in the bathroom, avoiding eye contact, to come out and see Will perusing somebody’s zines.  They were laid out on jackets on the floor, with some empty shot glasses. The ladies selling them were half-asleep—probably stoned, Billy gauged, from the red eyes under their skull makeup, and the smell of the smoke—but they smirked goodhumoredly at Will’s questions about who wrote them, and how they were printed (“Photocopied,” one whispered, giggling), and whose pictures and articles were inside. 

“Her poetry’s in there,” the left one leaned to kiss the right one, and Will gaped, again, as he’d done all night, every time somebody did anything queer. He grabbed the zine, scrabbling for his wallet, and glancing up at Billy. The whole selection was probably pornographically gay, but Billy shrugged, knowing from his own squinting experience that the pictures would be so badly photocopied Will’s imagination would have to do all the work. 

“I’m a dollar short of buying all of them,” Will said, resting his chin on his hands to survey what looked like their own homebrew edition of Queercore, and the latest Dr Smith and JDs , and Billy rolled his eyes and dug out his wallet.  The woman on the left patted her jacket down, and pulled out a blunt—she handed it to the one on the right, who lit up—then tugged at her inside pocket, grinning at Billy.  She yanked at it again.  "I've—I've got Last Rites' Code Blue," she whispered, jerking a cassette free, and waving it upside down, and Will made a soft noise in his throat, reaching for it.

"So do I," Billy leaned to whisper in Will's ear, and handed over the dollar for the zines.  "I'll make you a copy, if you like."

“Thank you,” Will told them, and then beamed up at Billy, who rolled his eyes and helped the kid fold everything up so he could carry it.  “...uh, Steve said, um, he said he could pick me up at the diner.  Around the corner?”

As they wove through the remaining—extremely drunk—crowd, Will grabbed him by the shoulder, and started trying to climb his back again.  Billy piggy-backed him out to the parking lot, which had turned into an impromptu drunken skate park.  Somebody'd brought spraypaint, and they were painting skateboards.  Will nearly fell off, staring at the flips, and Billy got his leather jacket out of his motorcycle saddlebag—only to register Will hanging over his shoulder to reach for it like he was in the middle of a religious experience.  

Billy waved it back and forth, and the kid’s head followed.  Billy shivered, sweaty as he was in the night air, but held the jacket up.  “You want to try it?”

“Yeh!” Will squeaked.  “Yeh-yes!”

Billy sighed, and hefted his charge towards the diner, grinning to himself at Will’s describing every song as though Billy hadn’t been paying attention.  

“Oh!” Will yelped, smacking his shirts and zines over Billy’s chest just in time for Billy to push at the door.  

“Right,” Billy snorted, remembering the word scrawled across his chest, and finding an empty booth. 

Will interrogated Billy on his order, his music taste, Lord of the Rings, and was just rounding back to hashbrowns or toast—Billy shook his head again, laughing, his stomach if not his brain still entirely full of beer—when a man in a pink polo shirt, smelling of clean laundry, soap, and faint cologne, swung into the booth and grinned at the server.  

“Hashbrowns for me,” he panted.  His sleeved arm was warm against Billy’s sweaty one, and his thigh pressed against Billy’s jeans.

“We can stay?” Will asked, wide-eyed, and Steve cast a sideways glance at Billy.  

“Unless you’ve got somewhere to be.  Steve Harrington.”  He held out a hand, and Billy wiped his hand on his jeans before shaking it.  

“Billy Hargrove,” he replied, realizing his voice was hoarse, and Steve’s eyes sparkled when he smiled.

“I didn’t think you’d even get in,” Steve told Will.  “When you said—”

“Oh, they get shut down all the time,” Billy told him, half-laughing, half-cringing.  “They don’t even have a liquor license.”

“Or a sign,” Will whispered.  “They used to be a gay bar.”

“That they did.”  Billy accepted coffee from the server, who winked at him.

“Billy helped me get t-shirts,” Will told Steve, grabbing one from the pile of leather jacket, t-shirts, and zines next to him.  “He let me sit on his shoulders.”

“Oh, did he?” Steve ran his fingers though his hair, missing the part where it stuck up at the back, and Billy’s itched to follow them.  Steve’d be asleep, Will’d explained, in the middle of the night—and now having seen him it was impossible for Billy not to imagine Steve Harrington sprawled across silken sheets.  Snoring, probably, or possibly grinning, like now, as he listened to this nerdy kid Billy was fairly certain he barely knew.

Will gave Steve a play-by-play on the concert, and Steve laughed when the kid waxed melodramatic about Billy’s rescue.  “He scared them off with his arms,” Will slumped sideways against his pile of clothes, one leg kicking in the air.  “And his tattoos.”

“Sounds pretty heroic,” Steve said, leaning to bump his shoulder against Billy’s, and Billy laughed, biting his lip.  

“He’s all sweaty everywhere because he let me sit on his shoulders the whole time,” Will continued, and Billy let his head thump back against the wall of the booth, staring at the ceiling, and wondering why he had ever been born.

“Oh, I’ve been to concerts,” Steve laughed.  “It’s hot in there.  Particularly if you’re carrying some tiny shithead.”  He grinned over at Billy, then jerked, muttering as Will kicked him under the table.  

Billy grinned back, relaxing a bit.  “You don’t mind a little sweat, Harrington?”

Steve snorted, watching Billy’s mouth, then bit his own.  He met Billy’s eyes as he let his lip slide between his teeth, and Billy stared, feeling a dull ache as his fingers dug into his thighs, trying to distract himself from his dick wanting to leap out of his jeans.

Will's voice broke the spell.  “He helped me up on the stage and I got to sing with them—”

“What, really?” Steve looked back at Will, distracted, and Billy took a slow breath, wondering if Steve could possibly be unaware of the letters across his chest.  Wondering whether this preppy Ivy-League looking kid would let Billy suck him off in the bathroom before he drove away, and forgot people like Billy Hargrove existed.

“They, um,” Billy said, swallowing, and trying to remember the question.  “They do that. Big Boys. They get the audience onstage.”  

By the time the food arrived, Will was rambling about Billy’s need to read Farmer Giles of Ham, and the affect of Tolkien on Led Zeppelin—Billy thought, because Steve Harrington kept unleashing smiles down at his cup of coffee like guided ballistic missiles.

@sky2fall​ Hope you like it!  Thanks to The Dicks and Big Boys for their image and fictional likeness!

[buffyfan145]

So awesome seeing how much my parents and brother are loving “Cobra Kai” season 3!!! :D They all agree with me that it’s the best season yet and it’s the fastest I’ve seen them binge through a show. LOL  My brother came over for dinner tonight and we were all talking about it. Then he and my Dad showed me all these baseball style cards that Billy, Ralph, and Martin signed over the years before the show that are worth so much money now!!! :D The two of them have always been into buying and selling sports memorabilia and sometimes entertainment, and they’re convinced we’ll likely get some new cards of the entire TV show cast and maybe even cards with pieces of costumes and the set like other shows have done lately since cards are so popular again (and since there’s no conventions).

And on another note I saw Billy, Ralph, and Martin are all going to present at the Critics Choice Super Awards Sunday night/the 10th!!! :D The show didn’t qualify to be nominated since it didn’t air new episodes last year, but they likely will next. This is a new spinoff  award show of the normal Critics Choice that’s similar to the Saturn Awards  and has categories for superhero/comics, sci-fi/fantasy, action, and animated.

[prorevenge]

Evil Stepfather gets what he deserves.

TLDR at the bottom.

When I was 15, my mom started dating a man she met on a dating website. I didn't like him the first time I met him and two months later he moved into the house.

About three weeks after he moved in, he took my skateboards, self-built halfpipe, ramps, BMX bike, ice hockey gear, and many other things to the dump one day while I was at school. He said he did this because he didn't want all of my crap cluttering up "his" garage.

Maybe two months later he punched me in the stomach for the first time because I got up from the dinner table without asking to be excused. From there it escalated into full-fledged beatdowns for the smallest perceived slight to his authority.

One day he decided to take my extensive Pokemon card collection, even more extensive comic book collection, My Game Boy and PS2 with all the assorted games, and my fantasy and sci-fi book collection and got rid of it all because "15 boys should be playing football and baseball, not being a fa**ot nerd playing with Polemon cards and reading comics and books"

I would like to add that he was a middle school teacher, and then his off time refereed and umpired local middle and high school sports games.

My mom never intervened, and in fact acquiesced when he demanded that she stop giving me lunch money, because "the little shit will just spend it on comics and other gay shit"

One day, I took maybe $3 and change out of his change jar so that I can buy a slice of pizza and some fruit punch during lunch at school, because I was tired of being hungry. My twin sister was always a bit of an asshole, and frequently blackmailed me into doing her chores from a young age. I was fed up and refused to do something, so she told him what I had done. This man actually called the police and pressed a larceny charge against me, and once the police had left beat me senseless.

At that point I ran away. When the cops found me and returned me to my home, I found out that he I've been trying to talk my mom into sending me away to military school or something of that nature. I ran away again, and between having run away several times and the larceny charge ended up turning 16 in juvenile detention.

I spent the next couple years miserable and afraid, frequently contemplating suicide. Once I left home, I didn't speak to my mom for several years. We eventually reconciled, and by that point they had married. I was a lot bigger then I had been as a young teenager, and had gotten into weightlifting so he no longer acted like he was going to punch me to make me flinch, much less actually hit me nd we basically avoided each other for the most part.

My mother found out that she had stage 4 cancer, and no longer wanted to waste any of the time she had left with him, so she had a lawyer draft up a separation agreement whereby he would receive a set amount of money upon separation, and would have 45 days to retrieve his belongings from the house. He had spent his entire inheritance in six months and then had to sell his mother's house that he grew up in in order to settle his debts shortly before they started dating oh, and my mother bought the house back from the bank before they married. She allowed him to keep the house and he moved back into his mother's house.

My mother passed away about nine months after their separation and despite the agreement have been allowing him to come and get his stuff piecemeal. I put an immediate end to that.

I sold his baseball card collection (around $14k) and his autographed sports memorabilia (roughly $11k) and also sold all of his woodworking equipment, along with several finished pieces of furniture that he had made ($6,500 I think).

I kept his mother's engagement ring (platinum band 3 diamonds roughly 2 Carats), wedding band, his coin collection (I also collect coins) and some tools and other odds and ends.

Around a month ago I ran into him at the grocery store. I told him what I had done as he was pushing his cart out towards his car and he took a swing at me multiple times. Several of these punches missed in the ones that they connect didn't have much effect because he's nowhere near as strong as he was 20 years ago in his forties, and I no longer a skinny little 15 year old. He continue to try to punch me as I called 911, and was actively ramming his grocery cart into my new Toyota as the police officers pulled into the parking lot.

He was arrested for assault, communicating threats, and destruction of property. As a result he lost his job (and pension) at the local Middle School, and because he had never learned how to save money while married to my somewhat wealthy mother ended up having to sell his mother's house because he hired an expensive lawyer thinking he could somehow beat the charges.

My nephew, who was on the football team made it well known to his friends that he not only had just been arrested and convicted of assault as well as other charges, but that he had also beat me as a child caused several parents to call for him to resign from refereeing and umpiring for local sports games.

My niece, and my girlfriend's much younger sister are enrolled at the middle school where he worked, and say that he was not only universally disliked, but when he came up to the school to get his belongings, he made a big scene and ended up hysterically crying as he was leaving. At least that's what they've heard from the kids who were attending summer school at the time.

His son, who he was equally abusive towards as a child refuse to take him in or help him out so he ended up having to take a job as a cashier at Walmart so that he could afford the rent on his crappy little trailer in an absolutely awful neighborhood.

Even though that Walmart is not the closest Walmart to my house, that is now the only place where I go grocery shopping or to purchase anything that I need. I purposely stand in line longer than I need to just so that he can be the one who has the pleasure of ringing up my purchases. The first time I went through his line he attempted to ring up multiple items more than one time to overcharge me and when I called him on it said that I was mistaken. I asked for a manager, and the manager believed him that it was an accident but he learned that he can't get away with that. The second time, I made sure to be as nice as possible and had to ask for a manager because he was overwhelmingly rude. The people in line behind me back me up and he got in some trouble for that.

Every time I go there and step into line, I see him die a little bit inside, and it may be Petty but it gives me such satisfaction. Sometimes I'll say that I'm paying with exact change and as I'm about to hand him the money I'll say "Oh! I didn't realize I had (rare coin from his collection) in my pocket! I guess I'll use my credit card"

I just sold his expensive ratcheting wrench set, and so on Monday when he works again I'm going to go buy my daughter one of their better above ground pools, and as he's ringing it out tell him "I know that (daughter) is just going to love this pool. It's not like I would have ever used those expensive ratcheting wrenches anyway"

TLDR; Asshole stepfather got rid of all of my prized possessions as a child and beat the crap out of me regularly. I ended up getting all of his prized possessions and selling most of them, and when I told him he tried to assault me in public, which resulted in criminal charges, losing his job, and his house. Now I get to see him all the time and rub his nose in it.

(source) story by (/u/Kveldson)

[szopenhauer]

How was your day?: it wasn’t good.

Would you ever try to count to 5,000 for $5,000?: I’d try

When is the last time you took a picture of yourself?: last days

When did you last take a shower?: I’m going to take a bath soon

What song are you listening to?: The Weeknd - Blinding Lights

Last sentence you said aloud?: not sure what was last

What is the point of scented pens/pencils/erasers? ppl like to smell stuff I guess Do you buy/wear band-aids with cartoon characters on them? they’re usually not sticking well enough  What do you think your reaction would be upon entering the White House? meh, they could spend those money better by helping ppl, nobody needs such a big house - president or not, we’re not in medieval times and guards would have less to do 

Do you buy and wear crazy looking socks? I would like to Would you run down the street wearing a tutu, fishnets, & flippers? topless? for how much tho  Have you ever grown your own sea monkeys or dinosaurs? nope

Did you ever own an Etch-a-Sketch? yes, I loved it so much, I miss it Do/did you ever have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling? on my wall and furniture, I still have some left Does your house have an attic? it does Have you ever gone white-water rafting? no and don’t want to Does your grandma wear an apron when she cooks? she did How often do you need “me” time? all the time? :x Does it bother you that almost everything is done on computers now? sometimes, a little bit Have you ever gotten stuck in a revolving door? I haven’t What animal do you most resemble while eating? dunno but it reminds me of that yt video - how animals eat their food lmfao Would you play Jumanji, if given the chance? someone already plays it this year

Do you text/call while going to the bathroom?  I might but prefer not to Do you always make sure your cell phone is charged before going somewhere? and powerbank too Did you get Happy Meals just for the toys as a kid? only once, I got Eeyore that I still own Have you ever seen your parents cry?  of course

Do you often shift blame towards others? usually it’s other way around? Do you ever feel like you’re smarter than your boss? I don’t have a job Your very first best friend: Is he/she STILL your best friend? not counting my family - no Have you ever witnessed a crime? minor What’s the coolest personalized license plate you’ve ever seen? I saw a bunch :D Do you write grey or gray? grey, it doesn’t have 50 shades

If you make surveys, how do you decide about its title? I don’t add titles as you can see, that’s stupid

When are you going back to school? never?

What do you do when you tell a really bad joke? my jokes are so bad that they’re good if you know what I mean ;)

Do you like having a huge group of friends or would you rather have few close friends? few close

Do you watch the TV Show Skins? If so, who’s your favorite character? fragments

Can you get a strike at bowling? I never tried bowling but would like to

Do you swallow chewing gum? wtf

Were you into the Beanie Baby craze? nah Would you ever wish to ride a dolphin? nope, I’m not fond of dolphins Do you ever watch the news just for the weather forecast? my parents did and that was dumb, I don’t like/believe in weather forecats If your remote was missing, where is the most likely place you’d find it? in dad’s stuff Ever considered the thought that kangaroos technically have fanny packs? hehe

When was the last time you blew bubbles? not that long time ago from what I remember Did the last doctor’s office you were in have a crappy magazine selection? it did indeed  Have you been to a restaurant where they cook the food in front of you? bakery only The last ball you threw was a… (baseball, basketball, etc.) childish ball for my niece Have you seen how much candidates for president are willing to spend for their campaign? it’s insane  Have you ever caught a friend snooping in your room? I have and that’s why I am afraid of leaving ppl alone in my room  Quick! Name the longest word starting with the letter ‘J’ you can think of: jurisdiction was the first that came to my mind  Do you still write letters to people, even though there’s e-mail now? no longer but not because of e-mail’s existence

Have you ever taken a survey with a friend, listing both answers?: I tagged my friends in the past 

Do you know a guy who has hair longer than yours?: not currently

What color was the last cup you drank out of?: it’s a llama mug (minty color)

If you’re in school, what do you do to fill in time between classes?: there was never enough time for me

Where was the last place you got lost?: mall or park

When was the last time you had cheesecake?: this year

When you last shed tears, was it because of a person?: partially

Other than yours, whose house did you last fall asleep at?: John and P

Have you ever had a significant other whose parents didn’t like you?: looks like it

What’s so unique about your computer?: what’s on it - pictures/memes/documents

What’s one thing you have never done? I didn’t do lots of stuff and don’t want to many of them actually

What is one trend you wish you have been a part of? I’m not into trends in general

Do you enjoy reading fanfictions? About who? Or do you write fanfictions, too? nah

What is something you own that you wish was in your favorite color? it’s not that important

Is there someone from your past that you wish you had dated? used to think that way, no longer

Can you snap with both your hands? If not, which hand can you snap with? both but not every single time

Do you like cosplays? I tried cosplays but it’s not for me and I’m a bit traumatised by it due to experiences from the past, they remind me of someone and not only so I prefer not to follow/look at those related to anime mostly

If you were to participate in one, what/who would you dress up as? I’d dress up as characters I relate to

Do you sometimes answer surveys with “Idk”/“Idr” because you’re too lazy? I just realized that I don’t, wow, I used to do that all the damn time

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? am not

Have you ever acted like a bitch and used PMS as an excuse? I don’t use PMS nor period as an excuse as it’s actually a stereotype and shouldn’t be an argument besides painful/uncomfy/annoying physical sensations and being unable to do some stuff due to that fact 

Do you know someone who brushes their teeth in the shower all the time? *shrug*

Have you ever tried doing that? Did you like it? Why or why not? tried and it’s not that good

Are you patient when it comes to instructing others? I’m not, sorry...

Do you listen to Panic At The Disco? nah

Name a band/artist you like that isn’t that popular.: I like many bands/artists that seem not very popular

Can you lift your significant other (your best friend if you’re single)?: can’t :(

Have you ever lost a pet you were attached to?: we had to give away

You can read minds; Whose mind do you snoop around in first?: hmm...

Do you ever talk to inanimate objects?: stuffed animals, kettle and fridge 

Have you ever tried to fold a piece of paper more than 7 times?: possibly

Your best friend needs a kidney to survive; Do you give them one of your’s?: oh my...

Your brother breaks into your house; Do you press charges?: ... ghost?

Would you rather have a huge cat or a tiny dog?: tiny dog <3

Do you use your hands when you talk to emphasize what you are saying?: do I?

Are you afraid to ask for help when you know that you need it?: depends

Should adopted kids be allowed to find their birth parents if they want to?: I guess

You’re writing a novel; Is it horror, mystery, romance, etc.?: sci-fi/fantasy

Will you usually admit it when you’ve made a mistake? would say so

Does your name begin with a B, L, R, or T?: Z

Could you go a day without texting?: but she couldn’t and we don’t want to

Do you have a step-parent?: I don’t

If so, do you get along with them?: -

Do you have any nieces or nephews?: one

Does your current/last job require that you wear a uniform?: one of jobs that I had

Who is your 23rd phone contact and how do you know them?: I don’t have this many

If the last person you kissed proposed to you what would you say?: try me

Where is your dad right now?: sleeping 

Are there any writing utensils close to you? several

Look up, what do you see? ceiling

Do you have a bigger upper or lower lip? lower

Do you have any screen names with spelling errors? luckily not

Open the nearest drawer and tell me what’s inside it: I know it’s empty, don’t have to open it

How many other rooms can you currently see into? my door is closed

Do you need to take the trash out? already done

Do you need to clean out a litter box right now? we don’t have a cat anymore

Are these questions reminding you of things you put off to do this survey? nah

How many days have you been wearing those clothes? 1

Do you like listening to 60’s music? some songs

Can you move your nose? many ways

Can you wiggle your ears? my dad can

How many songs have you downloaded this week? I don’t download songs

Would you rather be a pirate or robot? robot, can’t robot be a pirate tho?

Would you rather be a ghost or a zombie? ghost 

Have you ever considered living in a bomb shelter? I’d be scared to live underground

If I gave you a piano and told you hit middle c, could you? nooo

do you think it’s weird for someone to have never tried soda?   not really

which floor of your house/building are you on now? there’s basement under me and attic above me

would you ride a motorcycle if given the chance? (or have you?) I would, haven’t yet

what are your thoughts on reincarnation? (have you ever read up about it?) it’s possible

does your home have a balcony/deck/porch? balcony

how would you feel about traveling abroad alone? anxious

do you have an interesting passport? I don’t have a passport

what happens to your old clothes? I donate them, give them to ppl I know, reuse them, sell them etc.

who supports you financially? my parents 

if you wanted to go to the movie cinema, how would you get there? walking then by bus then walk again

have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend or a friend’s sibling? minor

do you know much about feng shui? (do you use it?) not much, I don’t use it

what’s your favorite spot to read? librocubicularist

did you know that buddha is not considered a god to buddhists? ok

do you save tickets from movies, etc.?   saved some

without looking him up, who was jim morrison? vocalist

do you have a nervous habit? several

would you be/are you a good role model to a younger sibling? nah

[majorleaguefantasysports]

"Hamilton Sound" Buying Bradley, Jr.

“Hamilton Sound” Buying Bradley, Jr.

Hello again.

I have been assigned the buy low – sell high column here at Major League Fantasy Sports and we’re on our fifth or sixth go-round with it.  To start I have been looking deep at the numbers, pitch types etc., to determine which players to sell and buy.  I have to say, much respect to those in this field that do this type of thing.  Eight hundred to a thousand words on one player…

[raisingsupergirl]

Comic-Con-fusion

So, I drove up to Iowa this past weekend and stayed with some good friends in order to experience my first comic-con. Some of you are giddy with excitement to hear how it went (you’re the ones who probably recognized the above picture of Carey Means, Aqua Teen Hunger Force’s Frylock). Others of you are wondering why this is a big deal because comic-cons are stupid and colossal wastes of time and money (though I DID go to represent Havok--my publishing company--and to support the book releases of my aforementioned friends). And still others of you are completely lost because you’ve never heard the term “comic-con” (or you have a vague idea that they're a place where comedians gather). For you skeptics, I concede. Like most recreational things in this world (baseball, fishing, quilting, video games, etc.), it is a waste of time and resources. But only in the shallowest sense, and only to those who don't understand it. For a large percentage of humanity, these conventions represent a collection of the things that bring them joy. And more importantly, they're collected in a safe place filled with other like-minded fan boys and girls, free from ignorance or judgment. And for those of you who are oblivious, let me just say this: stick with me. By the end of this post, you'll have some understanding of what a comic-con is and why people attend them. At least… you'll have some understanding of what I experienced while at my first con, which was not what I expected…

First, I'll admit that a part of me still doesn't get it, and maybe it never will. But the rest of me is totally embarrassed by that practical, "normal" part. "Ooooh, I'm Andrew. I do my own taxes and wake up at a sensible time so I can exercise before work. Then maybe I'll mow the grass and watch a documentary before I fall asleep and do it all again." Gag me. Life is about balance. There are countless ways to break the monotony and make life memorable, so don't imagine that I believe that things as… unique as comic-cons are appropriate for everyone. I get it. They're pretty out there. Like, "a-body-painted-woman-casually-strolling-through-hundreds-of-sexually-frustrated-boys" out there. But we're all just little specks that make up a huge world, and just because something's foreign to me doesn't mean it's not healthy and enjoyable for others, right?

I know, I know. I'm opening a huge can of worms here. And I'm doing so on purpose. As I said, this was my first con, and I was struck with a lot of surprising aspects, the biggest one being the sexual dichotomy that pervaded everything. Like I said, right next to my booth was a body painter, and each day she covered a new "canvas" with a work of art. The canvas was always female, and she always had bikini bottoms on and pasties covering her breasts. Well, covering as much as pasties are designed to cover. The first day this took place, I couldn't believe it. Here we were, sitting quietly behind our vendor tables, giving away stickers and selling books to kids and fairly conservative-looking adults (not counting the occasional light saber or pair of fairy wings), and this woman was sitting twenty feet away wearing nothing but pasties to keep her warm.

But slowly, this artist covered her "canvas" with what I would truly describe as art. And it was incredibly frustrating because I couldn't bring myself to give more than a cursory glance without feeling like a pervert. Many of the passing convention-goers seemed to be in a similar boat, but curiously, they seemed to feel better about staring when they actively discussed and critiqued the artwork. It was as if continuously reminding those around them that they were looking at everything except this woman's ta-tas made them seem less like voyeurs. And you know what? I did the same thing. And it wasn't just with the body painting. A lot of the cosplay costumes (people dressed up in various costumes based on characters from video games, movies, cartoons, etc) were also sexually provocative. Most of them came by it honestly since the source material is often hyper sexualized, but seeing an animated blonde bombshell poured into a latex outfit is a little different than seeing someone try to replicate it IRL (in real life for all you noobs out there. And a "noob" is a newbie… a newcomer. Gosh, I should do a blog post just on gamer—video gamer—lingo.). And while I had no problem sizing up the more modest costumes (you know, the bloody zombies and ten-foot demons), when a woman would walk by in a Jessica Rabbit costume, I couldn't look at it without assuring the guy next to me that I appreciated its attention to thematic detail. All in all, the situation just made me want to crawl away and hide somewhere no one would find me.

But here's the thing: the fact that I didn't understand how to act in this environment didn't cheapen the experience. The work that these people put into their creations was seriously impressive. The merchandise for sale (costume jewelry, original paintings, metalwork, hand-made toys) was truly awe-inspiring, and the costumes were no less so. These people were dedicated. They were expressing themselves in unique and extremely talented ways. Yes, some of the art played on sexual attraction, but what era of human history hasn't (our current society's inability to process that appreciation in a healthy way is a MUCH larger and different topic)? And there was so much more to it than that, as well. Decades worth of stories, characters, and story worlds—which have all been heavily inspired by centuries-old, real-world cultures—were represented beautifully, and their creators all poured their own style and flavor into their work.

The longer I was there, the more I was able to appreciate this culture. Yes, some of the costumes and creations were beyond what I could understand, and yes, some of the attendees undoubtedly had unhealthy relationships with these fantasies, but no more so than the obsessions of baseball fanatics or diehard fishermen. That's the nature of passion. Kept in balance, it brings us joy and motivation to do great things. Left unchecked, it will destroy us. And in the end, I finished my weekend with a deep appreciation for this passion that the con-goers shared, both the vendors and the guests. And this fact alone would have made the five-hour trip worth it, even if I hadn't shared delectable drinks, decadent food, and more laughs than I've had in a long time with some amazing friends (though the drinks, food, and laughs certainly helped).

Okay, so if you had no idea what a comic-con was when you started this article, you're probably more confused now. Sorry about that. But for those of you who knew just enough to be judgmental, hopefully I helped shed a little light on the inspiring culture behind all the "weird stuff." And maybe next time I go, I'll learn to not be so cheap so I can actually buy my daughter that $5 pair of unicorn earrings I saw. Or maybe I'll just make her some myself. I've been known to be pretty creative, myself.