#shrimp paisley :)

[new-muldul]

TRICKIGN YOU ALL INTO LOOKING AT MY SHRIMP RRRAAAAAHAHHHHHHHHHHBHHH ;;;,,,,!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[rainbowyumy]

I just realized that there was possibly a plot hole in the Wild Kratts season one between the episodes "Platypus Cafe" and "Mystery of the Weird Looking Walrus". Platypus Cafe is the 6th episode of the season and the first time where all the villains (minus Paisley due to the time being) have met and acknowledged each other. However, in the 13th episode, Mystery of the Weird Looking Walrus, it acknowledges that it was the first time Zach and Donita met.

Before you defend saying they mention they met off screen in an event, the event in particular they mentioned wasn't the dinner with Gourmand. They claim the event was an exclusive villain meeting con event and that Zach had gotten sick over eating too much shrimp, a meal that wasn't served in Platypus Cafe.

I'm not sure if it was a schedule mistake, or due to the fact that season one was still in its pilot state, or the show does different timelines of the plot. Either way it's weird. I could be wrong. Please let me know if this is wrong or not. I'm just curious.

[neotrances]

tyler can we get like...a complete list of all the animals ur bf has?? idk i feel like everyday u post about new ones :o

technically only his fish and one cat is his but he has three dogs, paisley, lily, and ivy, four cars ben ted todd and pete, his two tanks, the top tank being the guppy tank and the bottom being his community tank with a range of fish, my favorites being pinky the beta fish, mr banana the loach, and the citrus girls (a group of about five orange fish) he also has a shrimp bubble tank ! we used to have a frog named charles but we released him and he’s a native species so we felt it was right to do

[lestcat-de-lioncourt]

and some for the weirdly specific asks too, because why not— 3, 5, 29, 27

3. a specific color that gives you the ick?

Hmm probably mustard yellow specifically but maybe browny mustard? I actually have a couple that give me the ick!

Things like Pantone 448 C? But also Pickle Green, Humorous green SW 6918 which is like mustard yellow but slightly green as well, and I don’t like rust colour mostly because I love all kinds of shades of red and don’t like the vibe of orange that goes into that shade, when people say red and present a rust colour is so unsatisfying. I love orange though separately, and I also love many other shades of green a lot and yellows otherwise mostly.

5. favorite form of potato?

Friedddd potatoooo. There’s a new style of potato I’ve been eating recently though which I’m having for a meal soon funnily enough, and it’s this style of potato where it’s been made into a noodle shape and in this case loads of it was wrapped around some king prawns on a skewer. It’s alright, not amazing though.

It’s called either Potato String Shrimp or potato wrapped king prawns and looks like this:

29. preferred pasta noodle?

Spaghetti or fettuccine! I’ve not actually tried many types of pasta noodle compared to other kinds of pastas, I’ve tried a lot of other kinds of pasta than pasta noodles specifically. 😅 I love spaghetti or creamy carbonara though.

27. what’s your favorite or go-to outfit?

At the moment, black t shirts, shirts, turtlenecks, hoodies, black or plum trousers

Hats: silk black snap back, or wide rimmed black hat

Sunglasses: I have so many sunglasses it’s ridiculous but currently some silver ones with red circle lenses, or large ones with a rose gold toned and mirrored

Shoes: brown shin high combat boots, square toed platform stomp boots, or black platform trainers

Coats: A long vintage style renaissance themed navy coat, which is decorated with paisley glimmering patterns. This has been my Main Coat for about 4 years or so. ⬇️

Otherwise, leather jackets, long coats, fancy jackets kinda like this, or my black and white cape coat that looks like this but shorter.

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue December 1961 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wilhelmina Cooper wears a suit with a chiffon blouse. The suit, high waisted front in a wonderfully wearable way. Both, shrimp pink. By Adele Simpson; suit, wool and Dacron. Paisley print hat by Mr. John.

Wilhelmina Cooperporte un tailleur avec un chemisier en mousseline de soie. Le tailleur, taille haute sur le devant d'une manière merveilleusement agréable à porter. Les deux, rose crevette. Par Adele Simpson ; costume, de laine et de Dacron. Chapeau imprimé Paisley par M. John.

Photo Karen Radkai vogue archive

[sadiesaids0h]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Silver & gold small shrimp studs rope paisley style vintage designer earrings.

[leemarvin2009]

Leemarvin/SpongeBob Leemarvin as SpongeBob both are main protagonist King as Patrick both are best friends Genal as Squidward Amayah as sandy Mr Barry as Mr krabs Milo as Gary both are pets Daughter barry as pearl Chucky as plankton both are evil Tiffany as Karen both are wifes Glen as chip both are sons Mr martins as Harold Mrs Martins as Margaret Mr ohaya as herb Mrs ohaya as Margie Mr Colombo as Larry both are strong Ms Larkin as Mrs puff Chris kratt as Mermaidman Martin kratt as Barnacleboy Zach Varmitech as Man ray Gaston gourmand as Dirty bubble Dabio as jumbo shrimp Rex as atomic flounder Paisley as sinster slug Donita as notodoris Aviva as miss appear Koki as professor magma Jimmy as elastic waistband

[creatorping]

Aaaa thank u for the little detail call outs, I love that you notice them 🩵🩵🩵

The process is more like word association and stitching those designs.

Zach: Grass jelly (black in color, shiny and cube-like) -> robot

Donita: Mille Crepe (many layers) -> fabric and hair + living mannequins as a ref to her own robots in the show

Gourmand: Gumbo -> giant shrimp arms -> celery hat + rice accessory -> parsley mustache -> sausage buttons -> gumbo pot + big ladle to signify chef

Paisley: Rolled Ice cream -> cookies n creme -> pavement/concrete path -> grayish muted color scheme

Dabio: Poached Pear (simple, pale yellow) -> butler theme -> pear hair with pistachio topping -> brown eye to represent a monocle -> swirl design on pants to represent a cinnamon stick

Rex: cheesecake (simple, versatile) -> construction worker + dino (rex) ?????? how to make fantasy look???? -> cheese cake dino skull -> cheesecake bulldozer with cheese wheels

VILLAIN COOKIES 👹🍪

I went through a whole thought process for each of these. It was fun! Which one is your fav?

Zach and Donita

Paisley and Gourmand

Dabio and Rex

[treehuggersanonymous]

I went to a Pistol Shrimps game tonight!  It was so strange to actually be there in person and so so awesome!!

[jackandjackiekennedylover]

Imagine you are Gordon’s wife and pregnant again after Oscar was born two years ago .

Are you excited to see daddy work ,” You asked with a smile.

Yes mommy ,” Oscar said with a smile .

Hello Mrs.Ramsay ,” JP said .

Hi ,” You said.

What would you like to drink ,” JP asked.

Water for me ,” You said .

Here you go Mrs.Ramsay ,” JP said as he lays the glass of water down on the table.

Thank you JP ,” You said .

Are you ready to order ,” JP asked ?

Yeah I am .

I want the beef wellington, braised short rib, Caesar salad with shrimp, filet mignon ,” You said with a smile.

Your food will be done soon Mrs.Ramsay ,” JP said.

Thank you JP,” You said.

I'm hungry mommy ,” Oscar whined.

Here you go baby boy ,” You said with a smile as you feed him a piece of bread with jam.

How does it taste ,” You asked ?

Yummy,” Oscar smiled .

I'm glad honey ,” You smiled.

Here you go Mrs.Ramsay ,” JP said as he lays your beef wellington, braised short rib, caesar salad with shrimp, filet mignon on the table.

Thank you JP ,” You said.

Enjoy your meals ,” JP said.

This so good ,” You said as you take another bite of beef wellington .

Can I have a bite mommy , ”Oscar asked?

Yeah,” You said as you feed him a little bite of the beef wellington .

How does it taste ,” You asked ?

Ew ,” Oscar said with a ew look .

How is everything ,” JP asked?

Good but can you get my husband for me ,” You told him.

Yes Mrs.Ramsay ,” JP said.

Yes love ,” Gordon asked as he sits down by you .

Oscar thinks that the beef Wellington is ew ,” You grinned at him.

Oscar my boy. seriously,” Gordon said with a smile .

Oscar sticks his tongue out at him.

Here you go ,” You said as you hand him a piece of bread.

Thank you mommy ,” Oscar said.

All that he likes is bread ,” You told him.

Are you going able to eat all of this ,” Gordon asked as he look at your meals.

Yes but I need to ask you something ,” You told him.

What is it ,” Gordon asked?

Do you want another baby,” You asked?

Yeah but it's has been two years since little Oscar was born and I'm not getting younger here,” Gordon give you a sad smile .

I have something to tell you ,” You said with a smile.

What it is,” Gordon asked?

I'm pregnant ,” You smiled at him .

Gordon look at you before a smile came upon his face.

When did this happen ,” Gordon asked?

Two weeks before your 55th birthday ,” You told him .

That had explained why you were so moody on my birthday ,” Gordon smirked.

I had wanted to tell you on your birthday but I wasn't sure if I was pregnant or not ,” You told him.

Can we handle another baby bc Megan is 23, The twins are 21, Tilly is 20 and baby Oscar is 2,” You told him.

We did fantastic with Oscar. So yes we can handle another baby ,” Gordon smiled at you .

I'm excited and scared about this baby ,” You told him.

Ik you are scared about having another miscarried but I will say that everything will be ok ,”Gordon gives you a sad smile.

I hope bc I can't lose another baby ,” You told him.

Ik love ,” Gordon gave you a sad look .

( August 1st, 2022)

Paisley Jamie Ramsay was born on August 1st at 4:30 am.

She had weighed 7lbs 8oz 18 inches along.

Hi baby girl. I'm your mommy ,” You whisper .

Knock .

Come in ,” You called.

Hi love,” Gordon smiled at you as he walk into the room.

Hi ,” You smiled at him .

It's a girl ,” Gordon smiled.

Yeah. Come here and meet your daughter paisley ,” You told him with a smile.

You watch him walk over to you .

He gently picks her up from your arms and cradle her head.

Hi paisley. I'm your daddy ,” Gordon whisper .

Paisley is your twin. I'm serious bc she is a female version of you and it's scary ,” You said with a smile.

Gordon smiled at you .

[new-muldul]

The aggressive tactic worked last time so I’m doing it again LOOK AT MY SHRIMP LOOK AT MY SHRIMP LOOK LOOOOOKKKKKKKKKKK

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Letter 4: 🦈 Dancing with Danger 🦈

A letter arrives in the mail. It’s crumpled, with various black splotches littering the page--as though someone was too impatient to wait for the ink to dry before starting to scrawl the next sentence. Oddly enough, the paper is also dusted with what appears to be... crumbs and flavored powder from chips. Was the writer eating while they were penning this?

A hastily wrapped parcel comes with the letter. Upon unwrapping it, you’re greeted with the most ugly looking keychain accessory you’ve ever seen. It sort of resembles a shrimp in its shape, its form patched together with various patterns that don’t go together at all: paisleys, plaids, polka dots, cheetah spots, zebra stripes, holographic print... The shrimp lacks a uniform gaze, with one googly eye being noticeably larger than the other, and its stitched smile is lopsided.

***Spoilers for chapters 3, 4, and 5!***

Hiii, Koebi-chan!

Now’s about the time of year when we say our thanks! ... is what Azul told me. I dunno why I gotta write it down, though! It’d be much quicker to tell you in person! That way, I can also make sure that you stick around to hear all of it. Lots of guppies try to run away when I just wanna talk to them! I don’t mind. Sometimes chasing them’s just as fun as holding them down is~

How are Kani-chan, Saba-chan, and Rakko-chan doing? Are they up for making more deals with Octavinelle? It was waaay less work at the Mostro Lounge with them helping out. Watching the anemone bounce on their heads while we bossed them around was cute~ Azarashi-chan made for a nice, fluffy dish cloth, too! You guys should fill in for me at the Mostro Lounge. Or!! I could skip my shift and just play with all of you instead~ Let’s go swimming together, or play tag in the water! I promise I’ll be really gentle this time!

Azul tells me that I throw too many fits, and that I’m hard to calm down when I get upset. But you know what I think? He’s just as bad--but I stick with him cuz it keeps things interesting~ You never know what he’s cooking up next! That’s why... I’m happy that you brought him back to us. It looks like I’ll get to enjoy bullying Azul again, thanks to Koebi-chan’s squad!

He doesn’t like to show it, but Azul’s actually squishy! Like, reallllly squishy! Jade and I always used to poke him and prank him just to see how he’d react actually, we still do that. Azul doesn’t cry as much anymore, so maybe that crybaby octopus I knew grew up a bit. That time was the first in a while that he broke down... so I made sure to give him a good squeeze to remind him not to scare us like that again~

Come to think of it, Koebi-chan scared us during winter break. You crashed right into the Mostro Lounge! Boy, was Azul angry and not with me or Jade for once... but in a way, I’m glad you did show up. That was the start of our Scarabia adventure!

We were like secret agents breaking in and making off with secret treasure even if I had to do the boring job this time and be distraction for Umihebi-kun! I kinda wish Azul let me borrow a deep voice for longer... It was funny seeing your face when you heard me for the first time! I wanted to see how the professors and the other guppies would react, too!

Rakko-chan cried a lot when we rescued Umihebi-kun. I wonder why? Even though Umihebi-kun backstabbed him and lied and tried to take everything from him, Rakko-chan was still so happy to get him back. Maybe he’s just too nice. Maybe cuz the desert isn’t a fish eat fish world like the sea is.

... But maybe ... just maybe... if I look back on it... I can see a little of Azul in him. And then... I can understand Rakko-chan’s feelings. Just a little bit.

Enough about that sad stuff, though!!

I’m so glad I ditched selling those stupid drinks at the cultural festival! (Can you believe Azul got mad at me for that?) I got to see Beta-chan-senpai and all the others dance on that big stage! Watching everyone up there made me wanna jump up and dance, too! Maybe I’ll join next time. Azul can be my manager, and Jade can be the water boy! Your job is to cheer for me from the audience~ Be sure to clap and shout extra loud when I snag the win for NRC, okay?

Ahah. I’m never bored when I’m around you guys. Koebi’s never bored either, right? Cuz wherever danger is, Koani-chan’ never too far behind!

Let’s hang out real soon! ... Oh, and here’s a closing Azul nagged me to include one!:

Sending lots of squeezes,

🦈 Floyd Leech 🦈

[leiascully]

5 Conversations Between Maggie and Mulder

By @agirlcalledNarelle - I think Maggie and Mulder had a complicated relationship. Here’s my take on a few shared moments between them….

4,7k words. Here on AO3. 

1. 1995

The Glasgow room, otherwise known as events room B, is empty and cavernous when he arrives. Sound bounces off the walls from the other early guests and is presented back to them in an awkward offering.  Helium balloons dance timidly from their weights along the outskirt of the room. Mulder slinks in like a cat and nurses a beer as he watches the room fill. He did not go to the graveyard.

Thankfully the event grows into the space, and the hum of conversation encourages more of the same. There is laughter. Recent friends wear brightly coloured outfits, paisley shirts and ethereal skirts. The family wear black, but wicked humour sparkles through their sad smiles. Scully and Maggie arrive, accompanied by a smattering of aunts, uncles, cousins. It’s strange to see Scully with a support network which excludes him. He doesn’t feel like he can approach her; he will wait for her. They make eye contact briefly, and she moves towards him before being intercepted by someone. Maggie smiles as she speaks, but he sees her glance frequently around the room for her remaining daughter as if proving to herself that she is still here, that she hasn’t lost Dana too. 

There is never enough food at events like this. Out of some misguided sense of chivalry which no one witnesses, he is late to the buffet and picks at the remaining trays. Having made small talk with some cousins from Wisconsin, he sits furtively at a table for two, hoping his vibes deter anyone from making any further effort.

‘Fox.’ He looks up, mid-room temperature shrimp half-way to his mouth, to see Maggie standing at his elbow with Scully behind her. Mulder can see foundation gathering in the creases around her eyes. Her cheeks have has sunk, no longer blooming from happy memories. Mulder stands and wipes his mouth on a napkin.

‘Mrs Scully,’ he kisses Maggie on the cheek. ‘I’m so very sorry about Melissa.’

‘Thank you.’ Her eyes are shiny pebbles from the bottom of a stream, clear and hard. Mulder gulps, his mouth dry, and wipes his hands on his napkin, frustrated he has nothing of value to offer when she suddenly speaks, low and forcefully. ‘Tell me, Fox. Was it worth it? Was what you found worth it?’

‘Come on, Mom, let’s go say hi to the Denman’s. I see them over there.’ Scully puts her hand on her mother’s arm and pushes her gently away. He watches them, relieved to avoid further interrogation, and considers making a quiet exit when Scully turns and mouths ‘don’t go.’ Damn. Suddenly no longer hungry, he pushes his plate to the opposite place setting and waits. He watches.

Scully and Maggie work the room, sometimes together, sometimes apart. They are the only members of the immediate Scully family representing Melissa to her mourners. The extended family, comprising of short women and tall men, make sure that Scully’s wine glass never fully empties. Maggie favours brandy. She remembers the names of Melissa’s childhood friends and greets her adult friends with generous hugs. Laughter abounds as family reacquaints and friends rediscover commonalities.  Each table hosts a framed photo of Melissa, and on this table, there is a photo of the Scully children in front of a big fish that Bill Junior has caught. Melissa is tall, beautiful with early-teen self-consciousness, smiling without teeth. Dana is at least 6 inches smaller, her face chubby and framed with bangs, and excitedly pointing at the fish with her two index fingers, her mouth open in a perfect ‘o’.

The sun takes polite grief with it as it sets, and the mood of the room shifts towards a more frantic, unrestrained celebration. Ties are loosened, music starts to play, and voices grow louder as the guests realise their hours for remembering Melissa together will soon draw to a close. Scully sits opposite him, pushing aside the remaining plate of food. Her eyes are glassy, her cheeks pink. A tissue peeks out of her cardigan sleeve, and her mascara is slightly smudged under her left eye. She smiles languidly and rests her chin in her hand. They hear Maggie laugh across the room with the cousins from Wisconsin. They are both taller than her, and one wraps her into a bear hug. She has the effusiveness of a dinner party host, eager to inform everyone where the food is and to help themselves to drinks. In the gap between conversation, Mulder sees Maggie staring into the middle distance, steeling herself to share the next anecdote.

‘I don’t know how she does it,’ Mulder remarks.

‘This is the fun part,’ Scully says, her s’s slightly stretched. ‘Remembering Missy with all her favourite people. And some of her not-so-favourite people.’ They watch Maggie take another brandy from the waitress. ‘She’ll crash later once we’re in the cab. I’m staying with her tonight.’

‘Can I take you both home?’ Mulder asks, suddenly wanting to do at least this for Scully and her mother.

‘Thank you, but that’s not necessary, Mulder.’

‘Please, I’d like to.

Scully appraises him, draining her wine. ‘She’s not herself today, you know. Don’t give it another thought.’

No apology, Mulder notes.

‘I know. She was right to ask. She has the right to ask, I mean. She should ask.’

‘She does. She should.’ Scully gazes lovingly at her mom, eyes misting with tears before someone else catches her eye, causing her to giggle into her hand like a schoolgirl. ‘Oh no. Missy would be devastated to know that Sam Charleston is here. She had the biggest crush on him when she started her first job, and he kept her well and truly in the friend zone.’

‘Go say hi. Go mingle.’

She leans on her knuckles to steady herself as she stands. ‘If that offer is still open…. That would be nice. We would love a lift back.’

‘Of course.’

‘Oh, and Mulder,’ she says as she starts to totter away. ‘We’re Irish. This is going to be a late one.’

‘I’ll be here.’

2. 1997

Mulder wakes to the shadow of someone standing over him. Blinking, his back burns as he sits up in his plastic chair.

‘Go home, Fox,’ Maggie says. ‘You should get some rest. In a proper bed.’

Her eyes are bright, too wide, like a child who has eaten all their Halloween candy in one sitting, twitchy and hyper. The hall is quiet, the bustle of the day replaced with a cloak of calm inevitability as some patients gather their strength for another day, and some succumb to the everlasting sleep which floats through these rooms like a genie, offering to grant the most desperate wishes.

‘Uh, I can’t seem to leave.’ He rubs his neck. ‘Is Scully ok?’

‘She’s just fallen asleep.’ Maggie sits beside him. She rubs her hands over her face and reaches for his hand. It’s an intimate move, but a hospital at 3am is an intimate, almost holy place and those who witness it are bound by their understanding of this. He covers her hand with his, a silent gesture of solidarity.

Maggie, Bill and Mulder haven’t slept properly in days; Scully sleeps too much for all of them. She can’t smell, can’t taste, doesn’t eat. Her headaches are sudden and vicious, the only respite being ever-stronger painkillers and sleep. Suddenly her teeth start to grind. She loses track of conversation, eyes, fingers and face all clenched, and Mulder presses her painkiller button in frustration that this is all he can do. All the road signs are pointing towards morphine. No one mentions it explicitly, knowing it will likely be the last landmark for Scully.

‘Where’s Bill?’

‘He’s gone back. To pick up some clothes, pick up my copy of Little Women for Dana.’ Maggie rests her head against the wall and closes her eyes. ‘When she’s awake I’m worried that she’s not getting enough rest, and when she’s asleep I just want to wake her. It’s like she’s 2 weeks old all over again.’

Mulder stays quiet.

‘She’s stopped arguing with me, have you noticed? She doesn’t have the energy. I just want to see her eyes flash at me again, I want that ‘here we go again’ feeling one more time. I’m trying to remember the last time we did that. I’m trying to remember.’

‘Mrs Scully, you can’t give up hope, not yet.’ Mulder teeters of the edge of acceptance but hasn’t fallen into that hole just yet: its depth is too deep, too dark, and he’s not sure he would recognise the man who comes out the other side. He needs his anger to stay on track for Scully, to keep going, and more importantly in this moment now, to stay awake.

‘Fox, I haven’t given up hope, far from it,’ Maggie’s voice is tired and resigned. ‘But you can’t deny what we’re seeing. We can’t expect things from Dana that she can’t give us. Then it’s not fair on her.’

Mulder feels this new perspective like a splash of cold water on his face. He hadn’t considered the impact of his unending fight on Scully. Did she feel like she had to perform for him? Did she gather her strength every time he entered the room to protect him from what was happening, to allow him his little charade? Does the energy needed for his visits mean more frequent headaches, more pain? His shoulders slump further as more guilt settles across them.

Maggie’s head suddenly brushes his shoulder, and she looks up in surprise, blinking. A microsleep.

‘Mrs Scully, you should take your own advice.’ He squeezes her hand where it still rests in his. ‘Get some proper rest.’

Maggie shakes her head. ‘There’s the meeting with Dana’s doctor first thing. And then the Priest is stopping by.’

The meeting is to learn the consultant recommendation after examining the chip that Mulder had offered him like frankincense. They had scanned it, taken photos, made notes, but the chip itself remained in Mulder’s pocket at his insistence.

‘I hope you know I respect the work of the priest.’ Mulder clears his throat, not sure of his next words. ‘I’m not exactly what you’d call a good disciple, but I’m willing to try anything at this point. And I know what it means to Dana.’

‘I won’t lie, I don’t like the idea of this chip, Fox. But you’ve earned the right to an opinion here. And anyway, Dana will do what she thinks is best: she won’t have anyone else make this choice for her.’

‘I know. I just wanted you to know that … I just want to make sure we’ve tried everything.’

Maggie stands and puts a hand to his cheek, her hand soft against his stubble. It’s a move he’s done to Scully before, but he had underestimated how much comfort it brings. He wants to nuzzle into her hand, to close his eyes and rest in the warmth.

‘I know you love her, Fox. You love her as she deserves to be loved. I do wish you might show it with roses instead of computer chips,’ she smiles ruefully. ‘But there aren’t words to convey how grateful I’ve been to see your love for my daughter over these past few weeks.’

He watches her go back into Scully’s dark room. They both wait, in different rooms, for the sun to rise on the day when Scully’s holy trinity of faith, family and work will entwine around her like the roots of a tree in a final attempt to nourish her back to health.

3. 1998

It is still dark when they pull up outside the house, but someone has clocked their arrival and the front door flings open. Maggie waves, wrapping her cardigan around her, and gestures inwards.

‘You have to come in now, you realise,’ Scully says as she unbuckles her belt.

‘Oh, no, Scully, I don’t want to do that. You be with your family. It’s 6:30am.’

‘Come on, you’ll offend her. You don’t want to offend my mother on Christmas morning, do you Mulder?’ Scully teases. ‘Or do you? Is that what you want?’

He sighs and walks with her towards the house. Modest fairy lights twinkle on the porch, and the Christmas tree glows from the front window. Mulder can see tasteful, coordinated ornaments and the outline of people in the front room. Already the Scully Christmas is in stark contrast to Christmas at his mother’s house: a quiet affair with two lonely presents under a tree that never seems to stand straight, decorated with all Fox and Samantha’s homemade decorations from over the years. A roast chicken that would invariably burn as Teena became engrossed in a Christmas movie and Mulder slept on the couch. They would end the day with a quiet game of Scrabble. He feels a protective pang in his chest: it’s not much of a Christmas, but it’s their Christmas. Teena is never outwardly demonstrative, but he knows he is loved. She has saved all his crafts, every homemade Mother’s Day and Christmas card. I’ll call her later, he promises to himself as he walks to the porch, swallowing the bitter taste of treachery as he crosses another mother’s threshold on Christmas morning.

‘Come in, come in! Merry Christmas!’ Maggie exclaims as they stamp the snow from their shoes. They are her first gifts of the day as she unwraps their coats and scarves. ‘Fox, what an unexpected surprise.’

‘Uh, Scully’s car didn’t start, so I gave her a lift,’ he said lamely, hoping the explanation doesn’t lead to more questions.

‘Well, you can at least stay for breakfast.’ She stands on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He is uncomfortable, unused to meeting Maggie outside of a crisis. He doesn’t have anything to offer her, not even a Christmas card, and he almost regrets offering Scully a lift this morning. He had been high on infatuation, waking after their late-night ghost hunt to find Scully snuffling under the covers next to him like a grumpy guinea pig, her scruffy red hair poking out from under the covers.

‘Thank you, Mrs Scully, that would be great. I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything.’

‘Please, Fox, it’s a last-minute invite. It’s enough that you’re here.’ Mulder smiles, and sends a thought remembering his mother at the Vineyard on her own. It might be called a prayer, if he was a man of any sort of religious faith.

‘Sorry we’re late, Mom.’

‘Don’t be silly, Dana, I don’t know why we have to meet at such an ungodly time anyway.’ She ushers them into the living room. Bill sits in front of the tree wearing a Santa hat, his son perched in his lap lifting and shaking any gift in his proximity. Scully hugs her sister-in-law affectionately, and Mulder notes that something has thawed between them since San Diego.

‘What’s he doing here?’ Bill asks in surprise, quickly removing his Santa hat.

‘Hush now, Bill,’ Maggie says easily, entering with a tray of mugs and a cafetière full of coffee. ‘It’s too early to be so contrary.’

‘I just think it’s odd that her work colleague is in our living room at 6:30am.‘

‘Bill, please. Fox is Dana’s partner, and they get to decide the context of that. Not us.’

Mulder glances at Scully. He’s not sure what Maggie has just insinuated, or what Scully has been saying to make Maggie to make her think that way. They’re still walking this path cautiously, and yet Mulder feels like Maggie has just confirmed something fundamental that neither had fully acknowledged yet.  Scully reflects his surprise, raising an eyebrow before looking back at her brother.

‘Admit it, Bill,’ Scully says, ‘you’re just embarrassed that Mulder’s seen you in your jimmy jams.’

There is a pause in the room before Bill spreads his hands and laughs.

‘Guilty. Grab a seat, Mulder, let’s see if there’s a lump of coal under here somewhere for you.’ Scully squeezes his arm in solidarity. Mulder sees the steel under Bill’s smile and nods, accepting the tentative olive branch.

‘Excellent.’ Maggie sits beside the tree and pulls Matthew onto her lap, who desperately reaches towards the tree. ‘My grandson has been patient enough. Now that we’re all here, and caffeinated, how about we open some presents?’

4. 2001

Mulder stares through the nursery glass at the eight babies wriggling in their little beds. It’s like a very small and very strange zoo exhibition. I’m sorry guys, he thinks, visiting hours have just started for you. His baby is back row left, wearing a blue hat and sleeping with his mouth slightly open, oblivious to all the motion and emotion surrounding him.

Scully needed stitches. The doctors were not happy with her delivery in general, and Mulder felt them glance suspiciously in his direction when he wasn’t looking. They had also given Scully a sedative: she had been shaking with shock and exhaustion, having had no sleep during the 16 hours since the delivery. In the helicopter she had gripped her son with a haunted look in her eyes, only reluctantly handing him to the nurse when the desire to have him checked over outweighed her instinct to hold tight. Go with him, she’d begged, the force of his hand squashing his fingers, don’t leave him alone. Make sure he’s ok. Please, Mulder. He’d wanted to stay until she slept, but his continued presence only made her more anxious. He had left her, weak and weepy with her legs in stirrups, as exposed and vulnerable as a person could find themselves. The nurse had offered to bring the baby to Mulder to hold, but without Scully it feels like a betrayal somehow. He is satisfied just peering through the window, admiring his perfect lips and nose.

‘Fox,’ he turns to see Maggie standing at his shoulder. Her face is tight, her clenched teeth barely restraining her anger. His stomach drops as he feels himself ride over the crest of a rollercoaster.

‘Mrs Scully. Did you just arrive?’

‘I tried to visit Dana but they said she’s sleeping.’ Maggie has yet to put her overnight bag down, her knuckles white as she grips the handles. ‘Do you mind telling me what happened? How my daughter got to Georgia?’

‘Scully, uh, she was in danger and so we thought it safest if she left DC.’ Maggie purses her lips. Mulder’s palms are sweaty. What had made perfect sense at the time was now sounding reckless and stupid.

‘I see. And why Georgia?’

‘We needed somewhere unexpected, somewhere that no one would know.’

‘How exactly did she get here?’

‘One of her colleagues drove her. Special Agent Reyes, you may have met her, she’s been working with Scully for the last, well really for the last 6 months now.’ Mulder felt with each answer Maggie was coiling tighter and tighter, preparing to strike.  ‘Scully likes her, trusts her, so it seemed like the best choice.’

‘I see. Where were you?’

‘I was trying to make sure that the people who were trying to get Scully didn’t. Couldn’t.

‘And did you succeed?’

‘No, no I didn’t. But they didn’t get her, thank god.’

‘You didn’t succeed,’ Maggie says, shaking her head slowly. ‘You sent my little girl to some abandoned town in the middle of nowhere, with no electricity, running water, or even any antibacterial spray, to give birth on her own with only a colleague she’s known for 6 months for support. Is any of this inaccurate?’

‘No, it’s not.’ Mulder’s voice is quiet in contrast to Maggie’s increasing volume.

‘Do you mind telling me what on earth you were thinking?’ Maggie finally shouts, throwing her jacket at him. He catches it clumsily. ‘How could you do this, Fox? In what possible way was this the best solution?’

The tiredness, anxiety and fear which Mulder had been suppressing for the last 72 hours bursts forth, and he is suddenly possessed by rage.

‘Excuse me, Maggie, can I call you Maggie? I think it’s about time, don’t you?’ His voice is quiet but violent. Maggie blinks in surprise and takes a step back. ‘This is my son we’re talking about here. My –‘ he falters as he thinks of Scully in the third room down the corridor, sleeping while her injuries are stitched. His chest hurts with the ferocity of his love for her. ‘This is my whole world. I didn’t just send them away for a jaunt down South. It wasn’t for the fun of it. If we hadn’t have sent them away, in all likelihood we wouldn’t have either of them right now.’

Maggie presses her fingers to her lips as tears slide down her cheeks. Mulder immediately hates himself for shouting at her, she who has already lost so much as a result of Scully’s dogged insistence to stay by his side. He too blinks away tears as he realises what is about to happen next: Scully isn’t going to see her mother meet her grandchild, Scully’s miracle son. She will miss their introduction.

‘I daresay you’re right,’ Maggie mutters. ‘Everything you’ve said matches what Mr Skinner told me. I know you had no choice. But, my god Fox, another phone call, another panicked rush to a hospital, this time in Georgia. I don’t know how many more times I can do this.’

‘I know, Mrs Scully,’ Mulder rubs her shoulder tentatively, taking her bag from her.

‘Please, you’re right, you should call me Maggie,’ she huffs, wiping her eyes. ‘I know you did what you thought was best. But I can’t pretend I understand or agree with it. I think I have to ask you for a little more time before we’re in the same room together.’

Mulder nods. ‘I understand, Maggie. I want to check on Scully anyway, make sure she’s ok. Before I go, let me show you your grandson. There he is: he’s the champ in the top left. See him?’

Mulder sees her face soften, and she places her fingers lightly on the glass window, drinking in every detail of the baby.

‘Oh Fox…’, she murmurs, ‘he’s beautiful. Look at him. He looks like you, you know.’

‘You think?’

‘That bottom lip, there’s no doubt.’ She sighs. ‘He’s wonderful.’

‘Do you want to hold him?’

‘Can I? Have you?’

‘No… no. I’m going to wait for Scully… But you really should. You know how angry she’ll be if she wakes up to learn that neither of us held him this whole time. She would want you to.’

Maggie nods. Without speaking, without eye contact, she holds his hand briefly in thanks. Mulder recognises her resolve; he knows Maggie is happier now she has something practical to focus on. Her face betrays her excitement as she flags down a nurse. He carries her bag with him and opens the third door down the corridor where he is greeted by Scully’s pale face, her anxiety having vanished in sleep.

5. 2005

Mulder hears the gravel crunch under the car as Scully pulls up into the drive. He turns on the grill but stubbornly keeps his back turned as Scully and her mother enter the house. This is Maggie’s first visit to their unremarkable house, their little haven. For the last six months, Scully has met her in the city, at neutral settings or at Maggie’s place. They told each other it was for safety, that it was better for both Mulder and Maggie that they didn’t put Maggie in a position of consorting with a fugitive, but they both knew the truth: they were scared of what Maggie might say. Of how she might react to seeing Mulder again, after so many years on the run.

Scully arrived home from her first meeting with Maggie with red eyes and a stuffy nose.

How was it? Mulder had asked.

It was great. Amazing. It was so good to see her again. Her replies were short, and Mulder heard her unspoken words. They had gone to bed without speaking any further that night.

After six months, Maggie had finally asked to see where Dana and her outlaw partner were living. A Fourth of July barbeque seemed like a good occasion, the external focus distracting from any tension. Scully bought fireworks and s’mores ingredients; Mulder built a bonfire ready for the evening.

He hears footsteps on the deck and turns to see Maggie. They study each other quietly: her white hair, wrists tightly covered by crepe-paper skin, his lined face and wider jaw. He’s been waiting for this moment since Scully floated the idea with him. Now it had arrived, he realised how many lost years sat between them. Maggie stands a metre away, but the distance is a metal spring that stretches wider and wider and wider.

‘Hello Fox,’ she says, and her voice takes him back to hospitals, to phone calls, to missing people and conversations haunted by death.

‘Hi Maggie.’ He doesn’t move, and neither does she. He wants to tell her he’s sorry, but he doesn’t want to accept sole responsibility. He wants to ask for forgiveness, but he isn’t afraid of defending his choices. He wants to ask how she’s been, what their absence felt like for her, but surely the hole they left in her life is too great for him to think about patching up now. Behind him, the barbeque hisses as the fat drips from the meat.

‘Dana tells me you built this deck.’

‘I did, yes. It was my first project when we moved in. Where is Scully?’

‘She’s getting the potato salad ready.’ Mulder looks towards the house and cringes inwardly when he sees no sign of her. ‘It’s lovely out here.’

‘It is.’ Suddenly he’s sick of this dance. ‘Maggie, I want you to know –‘

‘Fox, I think we’ve had enough.’ Her assertiveness catches him unawares and he stops. ‘Don’t you agree? Enough anger, enough apologies, enough guilt.’

He nods cautiously.

‘What did Scully say about our time away?’ He asks. Maggie sighs and looks at her hands.

‘She didn’t say a lot. She mentioned motels, some kitchen work. You know how she is. She stopped talking before she got in over her head.’

‘Are you…. Mad?’

‘Oh, I’ve been mad alright. Father McCue can attest to that.’ Mulder turns back to the meat, and Maggie stands beside him. She looks so like her daughter out of the corner of his eye; there’s a familiarity between Mulder and Maggie that he’d forgotten about. All the fear they’ve shared together sits within a current of energy between them. ‘But I don’t want to be mad anymore.’

The spring suddenly snaps back into shape.

‘That’s good to hear,’ Mulder turns the meat. ‘I was afraid I was going to get my ass kicked.’

Maggie chuckles and Mulder suddenly sees that their bonfire, fireworks and s’mores will be genuinely delightful.

‘Just stay, though, please?’ She asks tentatively. He realises that their détente is quick but delicate, in need of nurture. ‘Stay here. Let me visit occasionally. Maybe there’s a room that I might one day come to think of as being mine. Just let me see you both.’

‘Maggie… Of course we will. You’re welcome here any time. At any time.’

‘What are you two talking about?’ They both turn to see Scully approaching with a tray of salad and iced tea. Her small smile is cautious and there’s apprehension in her eyes.

‘I was just about to ask Fox why the deck slants to the left.’ Maggie takes the tray from Scully and kisses her cheek.

‘Maggie, I’ll have you know this is excellent craftsmanship. It slants so the water can drain off effectively.’ They sit at the table together, with Scully looking from her mother and her partner. Her face glows in a way he hasn’t seen for years, and he squeezes her hand under the table. He is pleased to have brought her back, happy to have given her a home. She is starting to thrive. She looks at him, her eyes shiny with tears.

‘Look at me, I’m being ridiculous,’ she laughs, wiping her eyes.  ‘I’m just so glad we’re all here together.’

[intobarbarians]

part ten to clothes

The yellow eyes go away after roughly one night of berry abstinence. Kuwabara examines his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The eyes he was born with stare back: the grey his mother gave him, and her father gave her.

He hunts down Yukina’s label maker and adds an addendum to the jar of tasty berries: GREAT FOR HALLOWEEN. Kuwabara lovingly pats the jar and sets about making breakfast. He hits a minor roadblock.

Hiei’s shady herbal collection dominates most of the counter space. Kuwabara could have sworn there weren’t this many jars last night. He stacks containers of moss on top of containers of bone to make room for the bag of ginger granola and plain Greek yogurt he bought on a buy-two-get-one-free sale.

Shelves. Kuwabara needs lots of shelves. Do rich people throw away shelves? He’s never dumpster-dived in a fancy neighborhood, but he figures if someone calls the cops he’ll just cut open space-time for a quick getaway.

He heads back into his bedroom to get dressed. Hiei has exacted vengeance for Kuwabara writing ‘Shrimp’ on his drawer by writing a myriad of insults on the ones that hold Kuwabara’s clothes: Gangly Oaf’s Socks. T-shirts for the Oversized Buffoon. Carrot Head Sweats. He smiles as he shimmies into a pair of light-wash jeans fashionably frayed around the ankles. What a punk.

It’s a good thing some of his more private items are stashed somewhere else.

Kuwabara kneels by his bed and lifts up the hem of the comforter. He pushes aside the case containing his vibrator and thinks, I really need to find a new place for this.

---

As justified as Hiei’s hatred may be, Kuwabara is a little sorry to say goodbye to the couch. While it’s never done his back any favors, the couch has seen him through final exams, hangovers, heartbreak, and broken bones. The right cushion has been flipped to hide the bloodstains from a spectacularly shitty case involving a swamp mist that coalesces into needles when startled.

Kuwabara hefts the couch over his shoulder. He already learned the hard way from moving in that the elevator can’t hold a fart, let alone a piece of furniture, so he cautiously navigates the stairwell to send the couch to its intermediate grave.

He should make Hiei carry it to the dumpster, but the little guy would probably set the couch on fire to make his displeasure known, and that almost certainly violates Kuwabara’s lease. Besides, Hiei hasn’t dropped by in a few days. Not that Kuwabara is counting.

The couch springs creak mournfully, resigned to the end of its days.

Two floors down, Mr. Tomoe flattens himself against the wall to move out the funeral procession’s way.

The stairwell is a tight squeeze, but Mr. Tomoe is almost as small as Hiei is. He’s in more danger from Kuwabara’s fucking monster shoulders than he is from the couch. “Kazuma! Save an old man a hundred bucks? I have a new mattress arriving in an hour.”

‘Old’? “You’re like, forty, man.”

Mr. Tomoe winks. It’s almost as flashy as his paisley silk shirt. “I have curry buns.”

Kuwabara’s weakness is free food, as witnesses to the monthly rooftop barbeque well know. “Give me five minutes.” He shuffles backwards after a moment. “Do you have any clothes you’re getting rid of?”

---

There is, predictably, a lot of garbage on garbage day.

Kuwabara strolls down the street, sipping convenience store coffee from his thermos--hazelnut, too hot and too sweet. This neighborhood was all shoddy apartment buildings and strip malls when he was a kid, everything built before the stringent earthquake codes of the last decade ensured vast swaths of Kuwabara’s childhood landscape would be demolished. The mansions sprung from the rubble are all new money, austere white facades with rolling green lawns behind big, gold gates.

He accidentally locks eyes with a woman in kitten heels wearing a glamour like a shawl. Kuwabara squints. Ah, there’s the telltale shimmer threaded through the woman’s aura that hints at spell work. Opalescent wings and a mandible covered in thin, sharp hairs break through the disguise before being subsumed by the magic. She’s from the forests of the Yrdin continent, Kuwabara guesses. He can smell a trace of sea salt as she passes by. Kurama loves the ruins on the coast so much he makes the group vacation there every summer.

The woman averts her gaze and picks up the pace. Kuwabara takes no offense. A lot of demons prefer to keep their presence on earth secret. When Spirit World opened the borders, the equitable thing to do in light of King Enma’s epic assholery in manipulating and framing demons as criminals to justify the barrier had been to allow free passage to and from the human realm.

Migrations ebb and flow, depending on the winner of the Makai Tournament. Some of the traditionalists cheered when Yomi won the tournament before last, but plenty of them slunk to earth like sullen dogs after Natsume became champion. She pissed them all off after issuing a bunch of reforms meant to shift power away from the old alliances.

Whether out of curiosity or out of necessity, most demons on earth are regular citizens quietly living out their lives. Still, the wealthy have no trouble managing houses in both realms, regardless of who is in charge of Makai. Assholes with money wait out the reigning champ’s tenure and occupy themselves with seeking out promising competitors to sponsor in the next tournament.

None of his friends have won the title yet, though Kurama’s come the closest. Mukuro regularly humbles Hiei in the early rounds and Yusuke fights without reserve, leaving himself exhausted for the next match to take advantage of. Maybe Yusuke knows what he’s doing. He loves the thrill of fighting in the tournament, but being responsible for the day to day existence of all demons everywhere? Fuck no.

Well, almost all demons. Kuwabara drags his fingers along the shiny bars of a walled-off mansion. The ones on earth exist in a kind of muddled, judicial grey zone. Whose laws govern is a hotly contested issue: earth or Makai? Personally, Kuwabara thinks--

“Yuck.” Kuwabara pulls his hand away from the gate. His fingers are wet with something viscous and clear.

“Fucking goo,” he grumbles. He wipes his hand on his jeans and sends a one fingered statement to the owner of the house. Rich people are disgusting.

Great. Now he needs to go home and disinfect himself from whatever that was.

He turns on his heel and catches sight of something across the street.

Kuwabara checks both sides of the road before scrambling over to his prize. It’s not a couch, but--

He hears the slight ping of a key and huffs a small laugh.

---

The stack of books standing in for a bedside table have served him well, but they don’t offer much in the way of storage.

Kuwabara scoots the books aside after washing his hands thoroughly and sets the little wood table by the bed. He gives a thumbs up to the giant cat plush on the other side of the room. He can’t wait to tell his sister how great he is at being an adult.

He shoves his arm under the bed and feels around for the Thing that Hiei Should Not Ever Find in Kuwabara’s Possession. His fingers tangle with the handle of the case and moves it aside. If Hiei finds Kuwabara’s vibrator while snooping around then that’s on him.

No, the real thing Hiei can never find is this.

Kuwabara unzips the pencil bag he hid under his bed months ago. Inside is the little scrap of blue fabric, the last of Hiei’s doomed tank top.

He opens the wooden table’s drawer and swaps the blue fabric with the simple, brass key inside.

Kuwabara slides the key into the drawer. There. New hiding place acquired.

[sadiesaids0h]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Silver & gold small shrimp studs rope paisley style vintage designer earrings.

[doubutsu-no-hayashi]

UPDATED list of what I’m selling in my latest storage purge. More things have been added since last time since I found more furniture I don’t need and I added all of the other types of items I’m getting rid of. 

Offer whatever bells or NMT you want. It doesn’t have to be a lot. Everything not claimed by this Sunday is getting Nook’d.

 Furniture

Air circulator (green)

Analog scale (yellow)

Ant farm

Baby chair (green) 

Baby panda

Basic teacher’s desk (standard)

Basketball hoop (green)

Bingo wheel x2

Blue corner

Board game (simple path game)

Brine-shrimp aquarium

Camp stove (green)

Candle (gold)

Cartoonist’s set (pink)

Cassette player (red)

Champion’s pennant (red)

Champion’s pennant (green)

Climbing wall (natural)

Climbing wall (white)

Coffee grinder

Cone (red)

Cone (blue)

Cooler box (yellow)

Cordless phone (white)

Cordless phone (black)

Cordless phone (yellow)

Cute tea table (white)

Digital scale (green)

Den chair (green)

Exercise bike (black)

Exercise bike (white)

Exit sign (left arrow)

Exit sign (arrows both ways)

Floor sign (warning)

Folding chair (white)

Glass holder with candle (green)

Homework set

Imperial bed (red) 

Imperial chest (red)

Imperial low table (brown)

Incense burner (sandalwood)

Incense burner (forest)

Lecture-hall bench (light brown)

Lecture-hall desk (light brown)

Marimba

Monstera (brown)

Mrs. Flamingo (natural)

Nail-art set (pink)

Oil lamp x2

Pants press (brown)

Pants press (black)

Paper tiger

Plasma ball

Plastic canister (red)

Plastic canister (gray)

Protein shaker bottle (plain)

Pull-up bar stand (black)

Punching bag (red)

Rattan bed (brown)

Rattan bed (white) 

Rattan table lamp (reddish brown)

Rattan table lamp (white) 

Rattan table lamp (black)

Rattan wardrobe (brown) x2

Rattan wardrobe (white) 

Red corner

Revolving spice rack (brown)

Rice cooker (white)

Rotary phone (yellow)

Safe (gold)

School chair (beige and green)

School desk (natural and silver) x2

Serving cart (natural)

Shaded floor lamp (yellow)

Simple panel (light gray)

Sleeping bag (green)

Sleeping bag (yellow)

Smoker (black)

Smoker (green)

Soup kettle (corn soup)

Soup kettle (minestrone)

Speed bag (red)

Spinning wheel

Telescope

Throwback hat table (red)

Treadmill (blue)

Upright locker (black)

Vacuum cleaner (red)

Wasp-head model

Weight bench

Whiteboard (sales meeting)

Wallpapers

Beaded-curtain wall

Beige art-deco wall

Black perforated-board wall

Blue  shanty wall

Brown-crown wall

Construction-site wall

Dig-site wall

Groovy wall

Imperial wall

Mossy-garden wall

Orange-paint wall

Pink blossoming wall

Flooring

Aqua tile flooring

Arabesque flooring

Beige desert-tile floor

Birch flooring

Brown iron-parquet flooring

Construction-site flooring

Crosswalk flooring

Kitschy tile

Scramble sidewalk

Ship deck

Sidewalk flooring

Zebra-print flooring

Rugs

Aluminum rug

Black-design kitchen mat

Blue argyle rug

Blue-design kitchen mat

Modern wavy rug

Red blocks rug

Red-design kitchen mat

Red message mat

Rubber mud mat

Simple small avocado mat

Simple small brown mat

Yellow argyle rug

Yellow-design kitchen mat

Clothing

Academy uniform (gray)

Animal-stripes tee (tiger)

Antique boots (black)

Argyle sweater (white)

Athletic jacket (green)

Athletic jacket (blue)

Baby romper (baby orange

Baby romper (baby yellow)

Baggy shirt (gray)

Baseball cap (navy blue)

Baseball uniform (orange)

Baseball uniform (navy blue)

Basketball tank (purple)

Bell-bottoms (green)

Cargo shorts (camel)

College cardigan (orange)

Comedian’s outfit (purple)

Comedian’s pants (red)

Comedian’s pants (blue)

Concierge uniform (white)

Coveralls with arm covers (green)

Cycling cap (red & green)

Cycling shirt (red & green)

Cycling shorts (green & purple)

Firefighter uniform (brown)

Flower-print dress (pink)

Groovy shirt (green)

Hand-knit tank (orange)

Humble sweater (green)

Jester’s shoes (black)

Jockey’s helmet (white)

Kilt (green)

Ladder shades (green)

Layered socks (red)

Mesh cap (orange)

Mesh cap (purple)

Mod parka (green)

Mountain parka (red)

Muscle tank (purple)

Paisley bandanna (green)

Pajama dress (brown)

Patchwork tulip hat (pink)

Poncho-style sweater (orange)

Printed fleece sweater (purple)

Printed layered shirt (white)

Pullover jacket (nave blue)

Relay tank (black)

Relay tank (purple)

Ribbon sandals (yellow)

Soft-serve hat (gold leaf)

Spangle shorts (pink)

Spangle shorts (navy blue)

Sprite costume (pink)

Sprite costume (green)

Sweater-vest (beige)

Three-quarter sweatpants (yellow)

Torn pants (black)

Torn pants (brown) x2

Visual-punk wig

Wrestling singlet (red)