#mini Kelly

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[naileadevoras]

[michellexforbes]

[kinardsevan]

i was watching some Gabriel Iglesias jokes and he was discussing the correlation between men and wine, and it made me need to write this. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 call it another trip down the outsider view of bucktommyweek, even though it's now September.

-

“Lucky bitch.” 

Taylor mutters under her breath as she shifts in her seat, waiting on her date now for at least ten minutes past when he last texted he’d be around. She’s not even sure why she’s still waiting, but she doesn’t have any other plans for the evening, and she’s not about to spend another night at the station editing footage together her field report on the wildfire in the Angeles National Forest. But as she stares across at the man a few tables over, he seems to be held up as well, checking his watch and phone every few seconds. He has two empty wine glasses on the table with him, and a bottle resting in ice. She recognizes enough of the label to know that it’s not cheap. She stares at him for a time, contemplates getting up and going over, asking if he wants company. He’s tall and muscular, beefy, as the youths say today, and she hasn’t been with a guy like that since…well, since Buck. And truth be told, even Buck wasn’t as muscular as this Adonis sitting feet away from her. 

All at once, she’s both irritated, jealous, and annoyed. Irritated that this specimen of a man is sitting so close, yet so far away, and he’s not there for her; jealous for exactly that reason, and annoyed that she’s still waiting on the arrival of her date when she could be chatting up the man sitting at the other table. Still, she’s not entirely sure what stops her. Maybe it’s the way he seems to have an invisible box up around him, shutting everyone else out, or the way he keeps staring at his phone, waiting on whoever hasn’t arrived to meet him yet. Maybe it’s because of something else she can’t put her finger on. Either way, she doesn’t get a whole lot of time to piece it together, because her own date finally arrives a few seconds later, and before he can launch into a list of excuses as to what took him so long, she stops him. 

“First of all, I wait on no one, so this is your singular warning to not do this to me again,” she states. “Second, I’ve already ordered appetizers because I’ve been here waiting all this time for you to arrive, so third, I hope you’re prepared to pick up the check.” 

Somehow, a miracle, she thinks, the man sits down in the seat across from her, finally launching into his speech about why he was late, and she’s a little shocked he didn’t bail at her lecture. She’s pulled it out before—laid out her expectations front and center—with the understanding that she won’t be treated like a petulant teenager because someone else can’t keep their time straight. 

After the long-winded excuse, the appetizer arrives, and then there’s an order of their own drinks and the main course, and the next time she looks over at the beautiful man, his date has clearly arrived, although Taylor can’t see her between the other patrons around them now. What she can see, is the gorgeous man smiling, enraptured by whatever his date is telling him, a twinkle in his eye as he sips from his wine. At the same time, her own date drones on about his day job, and all she can think, yet again, is lucky bitch.

. . .

“Oh come on, not this motherfucker again.” 

It’s four weeks later when she sees him again. They aren’t even at the same restaurant. He’s being delivered to a booth this time while she sits at a different table, waiting on a different date. Late guy didn’t even make it to her doorstep. She’d abandoned him in the parking lot of the restaurant after he’d made a comment about journalists being hacks. And now, when she’s having to meet Kenny, one of the network higher-ups about trying to gain more of an anchoring position, this jackass has to be front and center for her again. 

She tries to ignore his presence by scrolling through her phone, even taking time to scroll through Tinder. Still, she mostly swipes left as the tables around her fill up. Once again, she’s left waiting while other people start their meals, enjoy their dates, and so forth. When she looks up at the pretty one again, it’s clear that his girlfriend has arrived because he’s got that same stupid smile on his face, although maybe a bit more subdued? Like maybe everything isn’t perfect in fantasy land? She wiggles an eyebrow to herself, contemplating her chances again over whether she should introduce herself to the walking Statue of David. But then the network bigwig is arriving and taking her attention away from the pretty one, and the next time she looks over, she sees him holding someone’s hand. Well so much for that. 

. . . 

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

Six weeks. She’d gone six weeks without seeing the sexpot that was the beautiful man who was now plaguing her dreams. And, like, it’s not like she was fantasizing about him or anything…but she was very aware of how gorgeous he was both times she’d seen him previously, and she couldn’t help herself, taking inventory of him. Those muscles, that jaw, the curl of his hair…

Except, tonight he’s less buttoned-up. The sleeves of the maroon henley he has on are shoved up to his elbows, exposing the sinewy lines of his arms, as though he completed a workout not that long ago. But it’s the jeans that do it for her; the way they hug his ass and thighs, and all over again, she’s jealous. And also now, now she’s angry. She’s angry that she keeps getting roped into these stupid nowhere dates and network meetings that aren’t gaining her the traction she wants, but some other girl out there is getting to ride that stallion all over fucking Los Angeles. When is she going to get her turn? 

Clearly not tonight, because date number four with the guy she’s been out with over the past two weeks is starting out the same way the last three have—he’s late. And the thing is, Taylor gets being late. Reporters are, by nature, always late to the scene. It’s a minor miracle when they’re actually at a place, much less with cameras rolling when an event happens. More often than not though, they only get the aftermath, so she can rationalize not being on time all the time…. But this guy hasn’t been on time once. And they specifically picked this restaurant because it was closer to his place than hers. And yet…

The pretty one is on his phone, looking rather perturbed as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. She watches as his expression goes from that, to one of concern, a pause to smile and laugh—there’s that stupid twinkle again. Does this bitch even realize how good she has it?—back to the worried expression. He’s too far away for her to make out what he’s saying, but before long, he’s slapping money on the counter and leaving before she can figure out what’s driving his attention. Her journalist skills have her wanting to get up and leave, follow after the man and find out what has him so concerned all of a sudden…but her stupid date comes through the dining room then, already rattling off an excuse. She stands, lists all the reasons that she’s not staying and why there won’t be another date—and why the tab is on him for the drinks she had while waiting—but by the time she makes it to the parking lot, the beautiful man is gone. 

Taylor huffs. 

. . . 

Three weeks later, she’s sitting at a table in a coffee house, reading through an article she’s written up. She’s gotten a decent amount of bylines since her book got published, and if things are going to continue to fuck her over at her current network, then maybe it’s time for a change. Besides, she’s heard some good things back from a friend down at the sister network a few miles over, so why not? 

The door chimes, and she ignores it, along with whoever walks in and up to the counter. They’re too far away for her to really hear, but she looks up when a barista comes to her table with freshly ordered latté and scone…

…and her eyes fall directly onto one Evan Fucking Buckley. She stares at him with a furrowed brow for a minute. He’s in his LAFD hoodie and a pair of dark joggers, probably coming off of a shift and heading home, if his generally slumped composure is anything to go by. There’s a generous bruising along the side of his jaw that has her curious, but they haven’t spoken in quite some time—not since a few weeks after he was struck by lightening, and even then, it was a short conversation—so she’s not about to step back into his life and start asking questions. 

Still, she’s taken by seeing him out in the wild. She watches briefly as he makes small talk with the barista behind the counter—someone he clearly knows well. While she can’t hear them or read lips, she can tell by their postures that the barista is asking about the bruise, and he’s quick to dismiss it, as though having his face that color is just normal. Still, she doesn’t want to eavesdrop, and before long, she’s looking back at her computer, trying to work on the article she has up. 

The door chimes again, and this time, she looks up, only because her brain is still atuned to picking out Buck’s voice in a crowd. Still, her brow furrows when she overhears ‘hi, honey’. 

She looks back up, glancing around the café, very confused when she doesn’t see another female striding up to him. Instead, her jaw slacks open as her eyes fall on him. The fucking beautiful man. The one from the restaurants—the one she’d been so jealous about. And he-…wait what!? She watches him stride right up to Buck and slide a hand down his back right over his ass and use the other to turn his cheek with fingers wrapped around his chin, clearly eyeing the bruise. Buck nods—clearly having been asked if he’s okay—and then the gorgeous one kisses him and Taylor is pretty sure at that point her brain is in a puddle on the tabletop. 

A moment later though, she quickly recomposes herself, because they must’ve felt her staring, when Buck looks over in her direction. His brow furrows briefly, and then he lifts a hand and waves. She gives the slightest hint of an affiliative smile and a quick wave back, turning her attention back to her computer. She’d been right, all of those times she’d seen the gorgeous man before. He was taken, and the person lucky enough to have him was in fact a lucky bitch. 

She just never expected the lucky bitch to be her ex-boyfriend; and that spurred a jealousy all of its own. 

[stagefoureddiediaz]

I have a lot of thoughts about the fact that Buck clothes seem to now be getting increasingly loose in fit!

We’ve gone from the over tight shirts and too short trousers of his Taylor and post Taylor era to the right jeans and still tightish fit shirts and now we’re getting jeans that are more or less the right fit but with much looser fit shirts and tees than we’ve ever seen him in before - as well as new and different white trainers!

I've written at length about bucks white trainers being representative of his journey to find himself and I maintain that is still the case, but new white trainers suggests a new journey - that now he’s unlocked his bisexuality he’s on a new journey to actually find his happiness.

As for the looser fit clothing - which all coincides with when he actually started dating Tommy - well sorry bucktommy shippers, but to me it’s playing into the Goldilocks theory - clothing edition! Taylor was the bed that was too small, Tommy is the bed that is to big and the point in time when his clothing will fit just right is when he is with Eddie - that’s why in 7x04 all his clothing was almost perfectly fit to him - when he couldn’t figure out his jealousy and in the immediate aftermath of Tommy kissing him - that moment of bi awakening when he understood his sexuality better, but before he went down the Tommy route - remember his ‘I’m an ally’ shirt at the pizza restaurant - that it was ill fitting and loose!!

Oh how I adore the wardrobe team - knocking it out of the park every single time!

[natabatts]

Pictures of my pets compared to It’s Always Sunny screencaps :

My pets reminid me so much of the IASIP trio that i had to do this

Part 1 (maybe)

[loving-jack-kelly]

for jack it starts with: jack sees davey across a crowded room and vaguely pings him as that guy from that class last semester. jack is drunk and dizzy with it, high off the music and heat and crowd, lost in the feeling of for once just being one of the crowd. to him, davey is shining and sparkling, he's moving with the crowd and yet set apart and beautiful, and jack can't look away. he doesn't know it yet because he still can't sit still with himself long enough to what it means, but he isn't just drawn to the way the boy across the room is moving and laughing because he looks like he'd be fun to talk to.

it goes to: when jack is drunk he has no idea how to stop the thoughts from spilling out of his mouth. he gets across the room laughing and stumbling and the first thing he says is "you're so pretty you should be a model" and the second thing he says is "I like the way you dance" and the third thing he says is "I've never heard a laugh so beautiful" and none of it pings as anything other than friendly.

for davey it starts with: he's at a party for the first time in forever because every once in a while he needs to blow off schoolwork to feel alive, and there's a boy there who knows everybody's name and talks and laughs so loud it fills the room, and davey can't look away. he vaguely pegs the guy as the one who sat across from him last semester and always had a joke to tell. davey hadn't paid him much attention but here, here he's the brightest thing in the room, bouncing from person to person with a smile and a laugh and a way about him that davey just can't, can't at all, look away from.

it goes to: davey is dancing and enjoying himself, out of his head for once in his life, and still taken by surprise when jack lands in front of him, feet planted like he's struggling to hold himself completely upright, and davey can't stop laughing when he talks, even as he responds. first, "thanks, you're sweet," second, "you're not so bad yourself, and third, "do you want to dance?"

for both of them it continues: they dance. jack has never danced with another boy before and he's almost surprised at how normal it feels, how he doesn't even think about it, how it's just as natural to let his hands slide down davey's sides and pull him close as it ever has been with any girl. davey has danced with a boy before but he's somehow surprised by how strange this is, how different it feels to feel so wanted in such a specific way, to feel like jack didn't just want to dance and didn't just want to dance with somebody, but wanted to dance with him specifically, davey specifically, and it feels nice but strange and davey wants to kiss him but isn't sure that's where this is going.

and for jack: he's pretty sure he's never wanted to kiss a boy before. he's pretty sure he's never felt like this before. he's pretty sure this is new, and some part of him is pretty sure it should be a little more weird to suddenly have all of these new things arriving unasked for in his head. but that's the nice thing about being drunk at a party, happy and silly, he doesn't have to worry about it, because he's having fun and who cares, really, who he's having fun with? he's not thinking about it when he kisses davey first, and he's not thinking about it when davey kisses back, and he's not thinking about it until he's waking up in somebody else's bed the next morning, until the sun is streaming over dark hair and a strong nose and makeup that's almost but not quite gone and suddenly he's thinking, "how did I never realize this before?"

and for davey: he's lost in the feeling of being somebody's first choice in a moment like this, it's not the first time it's happened but it feels new enough that it's almost as intoxicating as the alcohol he's been drinking all night. jack keeps telling him how gorgeous he is, how much he likes this, keeps saying over and over again how much he's enjoying this, and it feels good to feel so wanted and so chosen, to loose himself in the party and the music and the dancing and when jack is the one to kiss him first, well, what's the point in hesitation? and there's no reason to overthink this, to let himself get too deep in his head when a hot guy is kissing him.

and for both of them: new beginnings are scarier than anything. the insecurity of something new, of not knowing where things would go. but at the same time, sometimes scary things are worth it. and maybe this is worth it. maybe this is worth facing down the insecurities and pushing past the nerves. and when jack says "good morning, beautiful" it makes davey laugh because it's corny and shouldn't sound so sweet, and that laugh makes jack laugh, and even through all the nerves and strange emotions this feels.....

for both of them: this feels worth it. this feels right. this feels good.

[minisinmedia]

Christina Applegate as Kelly Bundy wearing a really tight high-waisted dark green mini skirt on Married...with Children

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[sarahjacobs]

shooting david with my english major beam so he reads the silly little papers i get assigned for class

for context. this is ia richard's fucked up take on the sensory and internal experience of reading a poem

[talkfastcal]

people ask me if I'm okay and I tell them yes but deep down I'm not. you know why? because I miss the old dollhouses I played with as a kid

[reccord-raccoon]

here's my bit for the @newsiesminibang24! I had such a fun time writing this, I hope yall enjoy!

with it goes this amazing, beautiful, showstopping art by the one and only @licensedfool whom I am so grateful for <3

[agentsnickers]

to boldly go...

It's ad astra, per aspera day!! Go read @jack-kellys's @newsiesminibang24 fic!!! I cannot stress how excited I was to get paired with this fic, although I have to admit that I maaaaay have only finished this like three hours ago lol!

(That's what I get for deciding my piece needed to have literally ten people in it, an experience I did not learn from <3)

ad astra has two artists, so don't forget to check out @walkman-cat's work, too!

[popping-your-culture]

Miniskirt Monday, with Kelly Bundy

[my-plastic-life]

New doll diorama is up! I went with the Christmas morning theme again, complete with this year's Target sweater ornaments (they're too cute to be called ugly LOL). Plus this is a great way to display some of my mini toys - almost all of them are from Mini Brands! :D Lots of kids in here, so I'm saying some of the adults are in another part of the house LOL

Ryan got a new popper!

Someone is big into the OMG dolls :D

Nothing says Christmas morning quite like toys and wrapping paper scattered everywhere:

This little one is eager to show off her new toy to her mommy on the couch from her daddy's lap:

We have a Bratz fan!

Can't forget the Disney Princess dolls! We need mini Barbies like those and the Bratz... just saying ;)

Someone couldn't wait to play with his new car:

Toys galore:

Decorations:

The tree has real working lights in three different modes!

Happy holidays, everyone!