#specifically the Polly Pocket movie

[feelingtheaster99]

It drives me crazy when fictional parents get engaged without having even INTRODUCED their still-under-their-guardianship children to their significant other

[xxplastic-cubexx]

so like do you think they made the plastic wheelchair ALONGSIDE the plastic prison as a Just In Case situation, only after they realized charles was going to be a frequent visitor, or both as in because they knew charles was going to be the only person visiting him during planning they decided to make him a chair ahead of time

[y2kprettyprincess]

🩷✨️Things I Watch When I'm Getting Ready ✨️🩷

Totally Spies

Bratz Shows and Movies

Barbie Shows and Movies

Monster High

Legally Blonde 1 & 2

The House Bunny

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Gentlemen Prefer Blonde's

Playboy's The Girls Next Door

The Nanny

Mean Girls

Wild Child

The Clique

The Princess Diaries

13 Going on 30

Two Can Play That Game

Uptown Girls

Overboard (The original)

First Wives Club

Death Becomes Her

Grease (1 only)

Burlesque

Mamma Mia! 1 & 2

The Proposal

Maid in Manhattan

Miss Confidentiality 1 & 2

Ocean's 8

Monster in Law

Hustlers

Half & Half

Girlfriends

Total Drama Island (specifically seasons w/ Heather in them)

6teen

Stoked

Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey

Crazy Rich Asians

Pretty Woman

Clueless

Bride Wars

Girl's Trip

All Bring It On Movies

Wendy Wu Homecoming Warrior

All Cheetah Girl Movies

Hannah Montana the show and movie

Zoey 101

Sailor Moon

Winx Club

W.I.T.C.H

Pretty Cure/ Precure shows and movies

Teen Beach Movie (1 only)

Lemonade Mouth

Polly Pocket Pollyworld

Bad Girls Club

The Simple Life

KUWTK (earlier seasons)

Jersey Shore

The Hills

POSE

P- Valley

All Early 2000s dating shows (Flavor of Love, I Love New York, Rock of Love, etc.)

Mulan 1 & 2

The Princess and the Frog

Tangled

That's So Raven

The Suite Life Shows

Confessions of a Shopaholic

Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen

Cow Belles

High School Musical 1-3

Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure

The Game Plan

Princess Protection Program

Monte Carlo

The Player's Club

Showgirls

ATL (2006)

Merman In My Tub (anime short series on Youtube)

Charlie's Angel's 1 & 2 (2000 and 2003)

The Game (The Show)

[choirstaidhiona]

This Barbie Cries In Public, or I Wish I Could Show My Mum The Barbie Movie

Like everyone else in the world, I recently saw the Barbie Movie! I also saw Oppenheimer, in the cursed double bill of the century, and it's taken me days to process both of them and all the BigFeelingsTM That have come up from both, so in my first actual considered and proper blog post on this website since I was the world's angriest teenager, I'll be sharing them, alongside some thoughts about grief and gender and all that really fun and not miserable at all stuff.

Part 1. Barbie Girl

I was born in 1996, a weirdly large baby constantly dressed in pink and lace and frills, as my mum would say, "a proper girl". I loved dolls; baby dolls, Barbie dolls, Bratz dolls, doll house dolls, paper garland dolls I made whenever i had a sheet of printer paper handy for years of my life, Polly Pockets, those weird off-brand dolls you'd get in corner shops and chemists for some reason, all of them. I loved dolls. I still love dolls. I made a film last year where i painted dolls and animated them and it was sad and about childhood and death and memory. I used to film my Barbie Princess and The Pauper dolls singing together and I made a music video of it on my Karaoke machine, rigged up to my pink TV. I was, in short, A Barbie Girl.

When Bratz appeared in the supermarkets of Greenock, I remember the shift happening really clearly. I was in Primary 5 or 6 and my Grandad had died, Baby's First Big Death, and I drew everyone pictures of the outfits I'd dreamed up for my Bratz dolls, transfixed by their big mouths and big eyes and the way their clothes sat on their bodies. Drawing pictures for people made them happy. Drawing pictures for people made them tell me I was clever. Drawing pictures for people gave me a task and gave me a focus. I loved Bratz dolls because Barbie was too boring. I was getting too old for fairies and princesses (note: I have since regressed), Mattel's fixation of the era, since Barbie had already been a Doctor and a President long before I met her, and I didn't know she had all these cool talents and past careers. To me, she was part of a personal era I was moving on from. Bratz dolls didn't have jobs, they were like Ken from the Barbie movie, but their job wasn't Beach, it was Gorgeous. I don't think it's a coincidence that this was the era I'd been told specifically that there was something wrong with me by other girls for the first time.

I grew up in Gàidhlig Medium Education, a sectioned-off and sheltered part of the Scottish Education System that I owe my life to, I would not have survived, weirdness and spirit intact, in any other school, and I know that for a fact. I'd entered GME at 2 and 10 months old and left school at 18, having only known classrooms where everyone was a bit different because we belonged to this sort of movement of cultural reclamation. My only prolonged interactions with "The English" (the rest of our classmates from the English speaking part of our primary school, the ones not in the Gaelic unit) came at the end of primary school, when we started learning French together as a whole year group. It's not an exaggeration to say that GME kids were bullied appallingly by "The English", including a lot of the old-school teachers. I'll go into this properly another time, but I do think that I saw in Bratz the kind of aspirational teenhood I hoped would be beyond my late primary school experience of being othered- being edgy, wearing cool outfits, having boobs, and most of all, working at gorgeous.

Part 2. Oppenheimer Teen

Think of the most catastrophically annoying and angry kid you knew growing up, that was me. And I lived here, on Tumblr, blogging my early teens away - being not like other girls, then being radicalised by third wave feminism. Learning about queerness, and realising I wasn't just the best ally of life, I actually fancied by best friend. Discovering that the square root of happiness was hunger, (i mean this ironically, it's very much not) and documenting my ever growing thigh gap... all of it. I wanted to tear everything down. I gave this section the title of Oppenheimer Teen because I thought it would be funny, but honestly, I was more like the atomic bomb.

I'd long since been informed that playing with dolls wasn't okay anymore, it was embarrassing and for babies, and the only femininity I was happy to take part in was a half-understood Kinderwhore version of it. Everything i embodied in this era was based on Courtney Love's babydoll dresses, red lips, and bleached hair. The first time I bleached mine, it broke my mum's heart. She had breast cancer and was losing her shiny brown hair, while I was turning mine into custard-coloured chewing gum with 40 vol at the bathroom sink. I didn't want to be pretty because I didn't know how to be without being ridiculed for trying, I was hurt, and I was scared, and my mum was sick and my boyfriend was evil, and Jesus, I was so hungry all the time. Eventually, after about two years of starting fights I couldn't finish, and drinking 70cls of straight vodka while looking men (teenage boys) in the eye, and reading the communist manifesto on the 6am Gourock train home after parties I'm still processing in therapy, my mum got the all-clear. I dumped the boy who was abusing me, who by this time was a grown man, I dyed my hair pink, and green, and blue... and I met the first of the girls who would start to save my life, while we were drawing pictures and dressing up at art camp.

3. Actually Talking About The Barbie Movie

Every year that I haven't been a teenager has been better than the one before, this is something I've told every teenage girl who has ever told me she's worried about growing up, and I've seen a wave of calm wash over her face every time. I really saw myself in the angry, clever, moody group of teenagers Barbie meets in the school canteen when she arrives in our world. Sasha, who I think we've all realised/read by now was named for the Bratz doll along with her friends, tells her she doesn't represent her, she's let her down, she's old news!! This was how pink and sparkly girlishness felt to me at that age, I didn't look like Barbie anymore, and the girls who did were making my life hell. I had acne, and my period lasted three weeks at a time, and being a girl wasn't fun anymore. Everyone just cared about which Ken they were getting off with, meanwhile I'd just realised that death existed, and one day would come back and finish the job and take my mum away, what the fuck was Barbie fucking grinning about?

Her spiralling existential crisis throughout the film was truly jarring, only because I remember those exact moments of girlhood. I remember being 11, lying on the floor and crying and feeling like it would never stop. I remember being 8 and noticing my belly was rounder than the other girls at ballet. I remember sweating after a game of rounders at 10 and realising I stank and feeling like I was malfunctioning. I remember being so angry for a whole year when I was 9 that I wanted to bite people. I remember every time I wasn't being a "proper girl", and how I saw on everyone's face that they felt it too. I remember every time I realised that I wasn't perfect anymore, just like Barbie does, and that I just wasn't the way I was made anymore. And they still feel like fresh wounds, fresh failures, despite what 2012 Tumblr feminism taught me.

I've seen Tiktoks from the current generation of internet teens discussing how the film wasn't radical enough in its feminism, and I get it, to an extent. When you've been an Oppenheimer Teen - fighting boys about how they treat their girlfriends that you're secretly a bit in love with, spending your whole life placing your value in your intelligence and your rage so as not to be someone's Barbie, making online friends all over the world because no one gets you, reading feminist lit while your classmates are excited about YA Fiction - Gloria's monologue, the climax of the film's mission statement, feels like "okay, and??" And as I said, I was Sasha, eviscerating femininity for what it had done to me. But as I grow up, not a (Barbie) Girl, not yet at all a woman (I'm non binary, knowing that is vital to understanding that joke), but also no longer an Oppenheimer Teen, I see the spaces that the powerful, vengeful feminism of my youth is missing.

Every time my friends are mistreated by men who are supposed to love them, there is a beat before they remember who they are where they think they deserve it. We constantly wonder if we're over reacting to our own trauma. We lose weight through grief and are told we look great and we say thank you, and sometimes we mean it. We fear taking up space even though we can't help it. We wonder if we should go for jobs that we aren't technically qualified for, even though we have degrees and years of experience to contradict our gut feelings of inadequacy. We are clever, bright, talented people, but those of us who have a girlhood in our pasts have a unique never-quite-healed injury. It's like a broken ankle from falling off a trampoline when you were 10 that aches in cold weather even now, the ankle you always go over when you're drunk in heels. I didn't know I'd grow up and get less angry. I didn't know I'd pick my battles eventually like everyone kept telling me to at 15, instead of waging war on everyone. I didn't know there would be a day that life would figure out how to make me small. I thought I had shut up the Barbie Girl I once was by outsmarting her, but my heart is still baby pink, strawberry scented, and covered in sparkles, and it always will be.

When i sat there, bathed in pink light, surrounded by mums and daughters, best friends, sisters, queers who never got to be Barbie Girls but desperately wanted to be, grannies, and aunties, and tiny girls who have no idea how much their hearts are about to be broken, I held my friend Isla's hand and i kissed it and wiped tears off my cheeks, because we were all there, together, in the middle of the afternoon on a Monday, living not in a Barbie world, but the real one. The really shit one. And the biggest cinematic event of our lives was telling us we were right, and it wasn't our fault, and we didn't make it all up for attention, we weren't rude or bossy or difficult, we were traumatised and hurt and tired. The children we were who played with dolls, cutting off their hair before we were allowed to mess up our own, had been let down.

4. Still Talking About The Barbie Movie, But Also Talking About My Mum.

Nearly a month ago, my mum died. She had a brain tumour, diagnosed a decade after she had the all clear from breast cancer. These two acts of evil by the universe were unrelated, it wasn't a secondary tumour related to her first one, it was just bad luck. She had been sick for years, and before that she was sick in different ways for years, so it wasn't a shock, but it has forced me into a new era of my life in a way I wasn't ready for. Just like growing up.

My mum was born in poverty in the 1960s in the West of Scotland, and by the time I came along her life was a dreamscape compared to what she had once known. We had a standard, comfortable-enough, but still working-class life, but we lived in her Barbie Dream House. I got my love of clothes and dressing up from her, the colour palette of my life from her, and my internal monologue from her. We spent most of our time together until I moved to Glasgow at 19, even when I was raging and destructive, because she was sick, and because she knew I wasn't going to be that way forever. She had been a wee girl once, too. She knew why I wanted to bite people.

The moment in the Barbie Movie where Ruth Handler says "We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they've come” launched into my chest like a fist and winded me. I was holding my friend Isla's hand at this point, too, she knew why I was crying and she cried too. I know this line was likely intended to be about career and the choices afforded to older women in the past, and the choices afforded now to mothers vs fathers, about the sacrifices of mothers and the love they send their creations, us, off into the world knowing, but my mum's own stillness was suddenly phrased in a new way, and it hurt. I don't want to look back on photos and videos to see where I left her, I want her to be dressed up in pink and glitter to go to the cinema with me. I wanted to cry with her and tell her I loved her for everything she did for me growing up, for putting up with me when I ruined by hair and dressed like a maniac and cost her a fortune in black eyeliner. I wanted to thank her for laughing and agreeing when i told her I wanted to bite people, I wanted to thank her for understanding my hormones were making me shouty and introverted and weird, not my intentions. I don't want to see how far I've come without her, she was supposed to be here.

I wish I could have discussed Gloria's point of view with her, watching her daughter grow up and away from her, in reference to our relationship. I wish we could have agreed we were so glad we got to the other side of that, and that every year I wasn't a teenager was better than the last for her, too. We would have laughed at Weird Barbie because all my dolls looked like her too. She would have remembered stories about my girlhood i'd never heard, she always did when we watched films together, often in her bed while the rain poured outside. The strangest part of losing my mum, has been losing the only witness to my entire life, because no one knows you the way the person who made you, lost you, and got you back knows you.

5. The End

Greta Gerwig has made me cry a lot, mostly about being a daughter to a mum, and growing up, and I love that this film fits solidly into her library, while standing out as an offering to a world that doesn't seek this kind of epiphany out. Barbie's mission as a doll was supposed to be about empowering women and girls, giving girls a role model when women didn't have space in the world to make globally successful films about how brilliant and capable and hurt and injured women are.

It's easy to look back after seeing the film, especially with all the history lessons included, and decide that Ruth Handler won the day with this mission, but I think The Barbie Movie will be the true closing chapter to this objective for Mattel. Isla (my friend whose hands I kept kissing and crying on in the cinema) and I were talking after the film about how kids now aren't growing up with the Barbie we had. They're not getting glamazon, can't stand up for the size of her boobs Barbie, with her yellow hair and a princess dress. They're getting flat footed, representative of them Barbie. She looks like she eats her dinners and she could actually do all the activities she's dressed to do, she's modern, and that's class, it's the next step in the evolution. That means that this film won't give the wee girls we were sat among in the cinema the same gut punches and feelings of nostalgia for girlhood when they grow up that it gave us. Their Barbies are just dolls, pals, they aren't trying to prove anything. There's no "please go further than I ever did, please" in the marketing, we all know we can be whatever we want to be in theory, we've heard it all and we're constantly under pressure to actualise it, like Gloria was talking about.

We've finally caught up to Barbie, we can, in theory, have our own homes and careers, we have the right to our own bank account, we don't, in theory, have to have families if we don't want them, we can be whatever we want, it just really, really fucking hurts trying to get there. And so we meet Barbie, all of us able to actually stand without a giant hand supporting us, Birkenstock to Birkenstock, looking out at what's to come. What's to come, is more of what's been, because we don't have equality, or anything close to it. We are still aching and being traumatised by our world. By the end of the film, Barbie is a real woman, a symbol of this new era Isla and I were talking about. She chose death and cellulite and misogyny over their absences because to feel, and to be real, and to stand with the girls who grew up loving her, is more noble.

I will say though, if there's a vacancy in Barbieland now she's in LA, I have really bad cramp and I'm tired of crying for my mum, so I'll send my CV over if anyone has an in x

[myautisticpov]

Am I the only person on the young millenial and younger side who is curious to see the Barbie movie, and enjoying the memes and hype, but just not resonating with the specific ways other people are talking about how playing with Barbie was foundational to their childhood?

Like, don’t get me wrong, I learnt my constellations from the Barbie in Swan Lake DVD extras, but Barbie in the Nutcracker came out when I was six, so Barbie was a character to me

Like, she had a set personality and stuff, she wasn’t a blank slate

Movie Barbie was also consistent with video game Barbie, so while I had the dolls, it was more like having Disney Princess dolls than Polly Pocket, or even Bratz (whose movies came out later and those four years were fairly foundational)

Idk, maybe the popularity of the Barbie movies died off or the supplemental aspects of doll lines like Bratz and Moster High meant that whether or not a doll was a blank slate just always became dependant on if your parents got you the movies or let you access the webisodes

But yeah, hearing people talk about Barbie as if she was a blank slate that you can project on feels like people saying that about my Qui-Gon Jinn action figure, or Kyle Katarn

Like, no, they’re a character with a set personality and stuff

Polly Pocket, on the other hand... She and her magnet friends were the centre of all kinds of drama...

[the-real-things-tournament]

0.5mm Pencil Lead

2002 Honda Civic

320 Pack Glitter Gel Pens

A Blunt

A Candle That Smells Like Fragrant Evergreens

A Copy of "The Book Thief" (2005) by Markus Zusak

A Daisychain

A DVD Copy of Over the Hedge (2006)

A Train

Ace of Spades Playing Card

Adderall

Adipose Plushie

Adorable Cow Creamer

Airpods

An Innumerable Amount of Lost DS Styli

Animal Shaped Rubber Bands

AP French Exam Packet

Argon (The Element)

Aviator Goggles

Baguette Body Pillow

Battery

Bead Maze

Beaded Curtain

Beanbag Chair

Bed

Beehive

Best Rock

Big Drinking Fountain

Black Out Curtains

Blanket

Blue Jeans

Blåhaj/Ikea Shark

Bread

Bright Orange VHS for the Rugrats Movie

Broken Alarm Clock

Bubble Toy

Bucket

Bur Oak Tree

Buttons (for clothes)

Can of Beans

Cast Iron Pan

Cat Collar With Bell

Chalk Boards

Cheese Grater

Chew Necklace

Chicxulub Impactor

Claw Hairclip

Clip-On Earrings

Clock

Coconut Broom

Colored Fairy Lights

Comically Oversized Lollypop

Construction Cone

Contraception

Crane Machine

Crayons

Dead Baby Possum Killed by Chihuahua (RIP)

Digivice V-pet

Dildo

Dirigible

Dirty Glass Bottle You Find In The Woods

Disinfecting Wipes

Dice

Dragon Ball Z Volume 4 (Manga Paperback)

Drinking Bird Desk Toy

Earth

Egg Slicer

Elementary School Yearbook

Empty Pizza Box

Every Basket

Every Knife

Eye Mug From a School Ceramics Sale

Fake Dictionary Lockbox

Fancy Showerhead

Fantasia 2000 VHS Tape

Fencing Mask

Ferrofluid

Finger Cymbals

Finger Cymbols

Fingerless Gloves (made of wool)

Flower Bush By The Pavement On The Street

Four Seasons Puzzle

Froggy Chair

Furby

Furby

Garden Gloves With Claws

Garlic

Gendang

Generic Paw Of A Monkey

Geode

Glow in the Dark Celing Stars

Glow Stick Liquid

"god i wish that were me" Screenshot

Golden Acorn Statue

Googly Eyes

Guitar

Half An Onion

Halloween Skeleton Decoration

Hand Mixer From The '60s

Haunted Callie Calamari Doll That Drinks All Your Pepsi and Calls You a Bitch

Heart-Shaped Glasses

Holly the Dragon Beanie Boo

Homemade Hand Sanitizer

Hurdy Gurdy

Ice Cube

Ice Maker

Japanese 5 Yen Coin

Kids Watercolor Set

Kitchen Sink

Knockoff Garfield Plush

Knäckebröd

La Croix Sparkling Water Pamplemousse

Late Night Infomercials

Lavender Scented Candle

LEGO Spring 2007 Catalog

Lightning McQueen Crocs

Lindt Gold Bunny

Lint Roller

Lip Smackers Watermelon Chapstick

LNER Peppercorn Class A1 60163 Tornado

Lobster Ornament

Loch and Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster Ladles (one solid, one with strainer holes)

Loofah

Lun-Class Ekranoplan

Mammatus Cloud

Manatea Tea Infuser

Meat Cleaver

Meat Tenderizer

Mechanical Pencil

Microscope

Microwave

Mini Cuban Flag on Plant

Mini Fan

Monopoly Dog Piece

Mop

NA Mazda Miata (Specifically With Googly Eyes)

Native American Fire Opal Blade

Nebula

Nokia Phone 3310 (2000)

Occlupanids

Old Faithful

One Crouton

One Flavor Blasted Cheddar Goldfish

Onion Chopper/Mini Food Processer

Opalized Fossil

Oumuamua

Our Sun

Paint Tube

Palm Leaf Rose

Paper Crown

Paper Leaves

Paracetamol Tablet

Pencil

Pizza

Plastic Lightsaber

Plastic Play Food Set

Polly Pocket Website (circa 2005)

Popstar Microphone

Potato

"Previously on X-Men" (YouTube Video)

Rainbow Desk Lamp Christmas Gifted By Aunt

Rainbow Pride Flag

Red Bouncy Ball

Rice

Rocking Horse

Roller Skates

Rounde (Sheep Plush Adored by Friend Group)

Rubik's Cube

Russian Nesting Doll

Salt and Vinegar Chips

Sand-Filled Frog Toy Named Floppy

School Chair Attached To Desk

Screwdriver

Seattle Space Needle

Seki Edge Nail Clippers

Sewing Pin

Sharpie

Shoe Insoles

Shoelaces (From The President)

Silver Hoop Earrings

Simply Southern T-Shirt

Single Macaroni Noodle

Siren Percussion Instrument

Slap Bracelets

Sliced Bread

Slinky

Slip N' Slide

Slotted Spoon

Snowman Headband

Solar Eclipse Sunglasses

Soviet-Era Apartment Complex

Spamton Plush

Sparkly DND Dice That Look Like They Should Be Edible But Aren't

Spoon

Squirmles

Squishmallows

Squishy Water Tube Toy

Stained Glass

Stand-Up Bass

Starbucks Coffee Cup

Steel/Metal Pipe

Stick (From the Ground)

Stop Sign

Stuffed Animals

Styrofoam

Subway Employee Hat

Swiffer

Tamagotchi

The Bible

The Demon Core

The Entirely Of Wikipedia Printed Out

The Giant Canadian Rubber Duck

The International Space Station

The Internet

The Kaaba

The Milky Way

The Mona Lisa

The Moon

The Spinx

The Statue Of The Shoe That Almost Hit George Bush

The Tiny Jack Hiding In The Wall Of My Trunk For When I Have A Flat Tire

The Transistor

The Voynich Manuscript

The Wheel

The World Trade Center (WTC)

The Zener Diode

Theremin

TI-84 Graphing Calculator

Tofu

Tom Scott's Best Thing Survey

Torn Apart Skunk Dog Toy

Trans Flag

Tumblr Anon Hatemail

Tungsten Cube

Two Paper Cockatiels On A Wire Stand On My Desk

Umbrella Hat

Unicorn Pillow Pet

Vicks Vaprorub

Vincent Van Gogh's Sunflowers Painting

Vintage Railway Poster

Walkable City

Water

Water Bottle

Water Snake Wiggler

White Boards

White Out

Wind Chime

Wings of Fire Slightly Used Coloring Book

Wireless Headphones

Working McDonalds Ice Cream Machine

www.hasthelargehadroncolliderdestroyedtheworldyet.com

Xbox 360

Yoga Ball

Yu-Gi-Oh Cards

Zipper

Ōdachi

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

How did you like Guardians of the Galaxy 3? I saw it yesterday and thought of you when Adam came on screen!!

UGH M i loved it! Best Marvel movie in...a long time, I gotta say. The action was great, it was funny, it was heartfelt, all of the characters felt fully realized and that their arcs were completed. I don't wanna spoil anything for people so I'll put the rest of my thoughts below the cut....click the read more at your own risk people lol

i am delighted that you thought of me when Adam Warlock came on screen lol he is my little golden boy!! and Will Poulter seriously did such a good job. perfect balance of that menacing and rage (didn't know he could scream like that good for him) but also just.....so dumb and so awkward lol the man plays an excellent himbo

(side note definitely have a few fic ideas floating around in the ye old brain for him so that's fun)

rockets backstory!! lylla!! teefs!!!! FLOOR!! pretty sure i cried anytime they came on screen and then anytime i thought about them on my drive home like...ouch.

but then also on the other hand the guardians determination to save rocket. going to such lengths just to save their friend. this isn't about the grand universe or the multiverse or saving some world. it's just about saving someone they love. and that honestly felt way more powerful than anything else.

like themes of family and what family is has always been core for the guardians movies but idk man in this that is just solidified and it's SO GOOD I LOVE FOUND FAMILY MAN

the high evolutionary was fucking terrifying and i hate him. best marvel villain in a long time also. like thanos but a bit more...realistic.

the music was on point also. like creep?? dog days?? mm mm mmm

and i wanna talk specifically about that use of no sleep till Brooklyn cause the HALLWAY FIGHT SCENE HOLY SHIT

so good

like it felt like one of those moments at a concert where the front man is like "and we have Jimmy Bones on the drums" and then jimmy gets to go just ham on a solo for a few minutes..."and miss fanny carpenter on bass...". like the hallway scene let every character have their moment and all flowed so well in a "one take" type shot and just MMM I WANNA CHEW ON IT LIKE A POLLY POCKET DRESS

i could have sworn up and down that someone was gonna die for real. highest bets were drax or rocket. but nope! they got to find their peace! drax gets to be a dad like he's always been meant to and rocket gets to lead the guardians!

i love the new guardians team. i want more golden boy give me more golden boy all the time forever.

i liked peter going back to earth to find his grandfather...i don't really want him to come back though lol

oh and i liked how a bunch of suicide squad cast got cameos. rat catcher my beloved i saw you.

all in all, really enjoyed. 9/10 would watch again

[comix64]

soda cans all the way

lollipops

bubblegum

stubborn

still soda cans

tie between grunge and tomboy cuz they both look alike but honestly i wouldnt wear anything coordinated

earbuds make me anxious cuz they fall out too much, headphones

movies

fresh air ( i may or may not have been influenced by a smell marker with this label actually smelling like shaving cream)

blackjack during break :P

cereal

"WH-816" (the unchangable name of my headphones, as i listen to them with a micro sd card in them)

lanyard

skittles?

fahrenheit 451

legs pushed out a little, slouching backwards, neck against chair

cheap blue ones with creaky left heel i got off amazon

rain :P

facing left, left hand near face, right hand closer to knees, legs tucked in

text files (i blame my 2nd grade teacher for not actually teaching me handwriting)

mario

my cool uncle

idk if this counts but whenever i yawn i invoulantarily [sic, dont ask] make an odd sound like a speak and spell stuttering

idk, diamond

nintendo 3ds photo album slideshow music

swim

generally frolic in snow, idk i live in a mostly warm place

New Computers - Girlfriends, The Less I Know the Better - Tame Impala, I Want to be a Machine - The Living Tombstone, Bathwell in Clerkentime - The Real Tuesday Weld, Credits EX - Frums

deal with the bullshit and tell me im giving you bullshit

my desk, local library, MOTHERFUCKING IKEA BITCH!!!!!! IKEA ALL THE FUCKING WAY!!!!! THEY SAY GO TO YOUR HAPPY PLACE GUESS WHAT BITCH IM EATING MAC N CHEESE AND MEATBALLS AT IKEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the general outfit i wore for some weird day at my school - white tshirt, baggy pants (no seperating me n my baggy pants), fingerless gloves

just go watch a compilation of kevin parry n zach king

idk how to check, probably "ok" or "what" or sumthing

omega mart, you have no idea what's in store for youuuuu!

~11:30pm

i dont remember

suitcase

lemonade

lemon cake

pee on the ceiling of every room

jojo

pants, specifically cargo pants bits cuz nobody will ever suspect you put anything in those

hoodie

lavender?

scifi

you wont believe this… nothing

american (eagle screech)

apple

just keep swimming

the comment section of "Evil beat i been cooking up"

my music teacher is openly homophobic

VCR

typing

N/A

kiki koki

birthday powers

my pet rabbit dying, my parasitic need for attention, and my failing math grades

i can sound like stitch from lilo n stitch, i can sound like a speak n spell, and my teachers think i am smarter than the IT guy

idk something related to scout tf2 sorta

scott pilgrim but im not as shitty as scott pilgrim

the whole paragraph of mispronunciations of Denham's Dentrifice being pounded into Montag's ears in Fahrenheit 451

gooigi, luigi, young neil, sorry i cant keep a train of thought that long

the same five that describe me but sped up a bit

scratch.mit.edu

idk if this counts but there is what appears to be a symmetrical birth mark on my shoulders, on closer inspection one of them is a birth mark the other is from being stabbed with a pencil

dandelion

my deck of cards

dr pepper

there is an actual end of the internet. keep putting in URLS and it will tell you you've hit the end of your journey. then? well it'll save it to your hard drive for you of course! [i can give you the link]

lefty

pebble tile on pools. say goodbye to your toes

math

cinnamon toast crunch + orange juice

7

dont remember

whataburger fries

cactus

i dont drink/eat either but probably coffee

school id

never heard of em

arent fireflies and more violent sounding fireflies the same thing

pc can act as console. console cannot act as pc. pc obviously

drawing (that 2nd grade teacher i swear…)

radio

never heard of a polly pocket so barbie

mythology

cookies

overstaying my welcome

we'd all stop arguing about trivial things, and stop ruining our planet

jojo

passed a test because my handwriting worked like that card dr who has that looks like whatever the viewer wants it to

box

overhead

wallace wells, "ies-nes" (like "yes" mixed with "SNES"), comix, com, mixtape, im making up half of these :P

winter

safari

one of the defaults from KDE, the hexagon one

2, my mom's and 911

i dont know what it's called but one of my steam friends has a pfp of it and there's a template on Apple Keynotes that looks like a leather book and the stock images in there perfectly capture it (see below)

weird asks that say a lot

in

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

7. earbuds or headphones?

8. movies or tv shows?

9. favorite smell in the summer?

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

12. name of your favorite playlist?

13. lanyard or key ring?

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

18. ideal weather?

19. sleeping position?

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

21. obsession from childhood?

22. role model?

23. strange habits?

24. favorite crystal?

25. first song you remember hearing?

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

28. five songs to describe you?

29. best way to bond with you?

30. places that you find sacred?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

32. top five favorite vines?

33. most used phrase in your phone?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

35. average time you fall asleep?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

38. lemonade or tea?

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

41. last person you texted?

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

44. favorite scent for soap?

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

47. favorite type of cheese?

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

51. current stresses?

52. favorite font?

53. what is the current state of your hands?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

55. favorite fairy tale?

56. favorite tradition?

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

62. seven characters you relate to?

63. five songs that would play in your club?

64. favorite website from your childhood?

65. any permanent scars?

66. favorite flower(s)?

67. good luck charms?

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

70. left or right handed?

71. least favorite pattern?

72. worst subject?

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

82. pc or console?

83. writing or drawing?

84. podcasts or talk radio?

84. barbie or polly pocket?

85. fairy tales or mythology?

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

88. your greatest wish?

89. who would you put before everyone else?

90. luckiest mistake?

91. boxes or bags?

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

93. nicknames?

94. favorite season?

95. favorite app on your phone?

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

98. favorite historical era?

[meat-wentz]

gerard stirs such a specific longing in me for my own past, especially because “costume” has as much to do with personal expression as any other clothing but on a type of scale that makes one feel grand, that makes one feel embodied and larger than life, and i say this as someone who was very blessed to be a constant attender of themed parties (i’m talking nearly every single party i went to from age 19-26) where it was an event for feeling myself in a myriad of ways. it was styling myself to make it feel right, to make the statement i wanted to make or to show up in full dedication to something i loved, to make people witness me in a way i wasnt witnessed on the day to day. that for a night i was a glitter cowboy with a golden cowboy hat that i stuck a tiara onto and pink velvet heels, for a night i was a maniac with a letterman jacket and a pig mask and a baseball bat, for a night i was an old hollywood b-movie horror starlet in a long flowing black dress, for a night i was a cheerleader with a machine gun (that was a very good one ngl, i ate). for my 20th birthday all my friends dressed as different ways to die so we could kill my teens and i blew out my candles to a chorus of happy birthday from shark attacks, burn victims, gunshot wounds, blood and guts and chocolate cake. for the glitter party we threw glitter across the house that still lives in the cracks between floorboards although new tenants live there now. for a night i was laura palmer, blue, wrapped in a plastic dress i fashioned out of cling film and plastic bags, for a night i wore a veil and a white sheath dress because it was my 21st holy communion, i remember every trashy lingerie party against capitalism, i remember every zombie school girl, every bashed up prom queen, every hour spent in front of a mirror applying makeup in the company of friends asking if anyone had an eyelash curler (no one ever did), every final touch of fake blood or glitter hairspray, every final cinch of a corset or fixing a friend’s stray curl. it was not only me but the love my friends and i shared over how wonderful we felt for the night. over time, it bled into my everyday wardrobe, a full persona taken on for the day that made me feel alive, trying on different people to be i was a baseball boy from the 80’s i was a greaser i was a velvet cowboy i was a polly pocket i was a diy show vampire i was a tennis star and an art museum curator. and costume is so dear to me in this way, it’s not simply artifice or wishful thinking but rather a moment in time where you allow a fantasy about yourself and realize it, it is a moment where i look in the mirror and say i have never felt more me. it is play but it is also honest and earnest, it is joyful and sometimes silly but it is also a fierce snap back at what the world would have you believe you should be. because of covid, i’ve ditched a lot of the costume elements i used to hold so dear, but buried beneath my t-shirts and sweats, lies my cheer uniform and i think i hear it now asking if it can come play.

[oreomonsterhunter]

Life Sucks

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Word Count: 10K (I know.....this was a surprise for me, too)

Genre: fluff, romantic comedy

Warnings: language (our characters have a tendency to curse, apparently)

Summary: Sunshine reader is in love with love, but hasn’t had much luck with it herself.  When she meets Minho, a self-proclaimed cynic and disbeliever of “true love”, she’s determined to change his life.  If she can’t find the love of her life, she’s going to try to find his.

This fic was inspired by a tag game once upon a time.  It was supposed to be a short drabble, but apparently I can’t hold back with Minho.  Tag game featured this specific Lee Know and just kinda spiraled from there lol

Nearing the end of January, winter sometimes seemed endless.  Yet when you stepped out into the morning chill, you were pleasantly surprised to find the snow banks melting a bit.  Your boots splashed through small puddles as you strode down the street, and you smiled softly at the lavender sky.  It was still early enough—for a Saturday—that the sidewalks weren’t too packed yet, so you indulged in a more leisurely walk than usual, dancing along to the music from your headphones.  You caught a few odd looks, but you simply smiled and waved at everyone you passed.  They could judge your happiness all they wanted, nothing could possibly spoil your day when it was off to such a good start—

“Shit,” you gasped, jumping back onto the curb as a car barrelled through a red light.  Had you been a second slower, you would’ve been a vehicular manslaughter case.  “Asshole,” you hollered after them, flipping two middle fingers in the air.

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose, attempting to banish the exasperation and get back into your music again.  More careful this time, you double checked both ways down the street before entering the crosswalk.

Unfortunately, your streak of bad luck continued.  Just as you hopped off the street, a truck passed by behind you, tires bumping through a pothole.  And with the recent snowmelt, this resulted in a spray of cold water hitting the backs of your legs.

You froze, mind stuttering as you tried to comprehend how the morning had taken such a turn, all within your first five minutes outside.  Pursing your lips, you twisted around to inspect the damage.  The dirty water might stain your jeans, but the most pressing matter was the cold and wet denim now plastered to your legs from your calves to the backs of your knees.  You bit your lip, contemplating just turning back and spending the whole day in your apartment.  Pajamas, a blanket, hot coffee and tea readily available.  Maybe a movie, just because you could.

Then you shook your head, determined to make the best of the day.  You wanted a cappuccino, dammit.  And chocolate babka from the cafe.  No homicidal drivers or puddles could stop you.  It was a Saturday, just past sunrise, and you had a whole day ahead of you.  No need to wallow a few minutes in.  And besides, who knew what would happen.

You set off for the cafe, determination heavy in each step.  You forced a smile back onto your lips, though it was thinner than before.  You switched to a different playlist so that your boots could thump the concrete in time.  And you breathed, spooling calmness back into yourself.

It was a Saturday.  You might meet the love of your life today.  And nothing could stop you from finding out.

The bell over the front door jingled merrily, and you softened a little further, relaxing into the familiar surroundings.  You hardly even noticed the damp denim chafing your legs as you skipped up to the counter.

Ruth, currently manning the register, chuckled as she rang up another customer.  “Well would you look at that, the sun came shining right in our front door,” she said.

“Good morning,” you giggled.  You waved to Jonathan, Ruth’s husband, in the back.  The couple had been running the little cafe and bakery for years, and you were a faithful customer, coming by at least once a week since you first moved to the neighborhood.

“Morning, Sunshine,” he called, hands busy kneading dough for what would doubtless become something delicious.  You hummed thoughtfully, considering the baked goods in the glass case before you.

“Your usual?”

You tapped a finger on your chin, “You know, the poppy seed muffins look awfully tempting.  I might just have to switch it up today.”

Ruth nodded, tapping on the register.  You handed over the requisite bills and she shooed you off, sliding the muffin over the counter.  “Go on now, a table opened up by the window, perfect spot.  I’ll bring the coffee in a minute.”

“Thank you,” you said, but Ruth was already fussing over the espresso machine.  Shaking your head, you weave through the maze of tables and chairs, dodging patrons on your way to the window seat.

You had your eyes on the prize, and you were only a few feet from the chair when you pulled up short.  A stranger, their back to you, plopped down in your chair.  You blinked, suddenly and painfully aware of your wet pants, the muffin growing cool in your hand, the fact that you could give up now and walk home but perhaps you’d just get hit by a car and never get a chance to enjoy your breakfast.  You sighed deeply, breathing out through your nose as you closed your eyes, seeking inner peace or something.

“Can I help you?”

The voice knocked you out of your momentary meditation, and you looked at the table thief in surprise.  He loosened the fluffy scarf around his neck before sliding his arms out of his winter coat.  A beret, of all things, tilted dangerously to the side before he adjusted it on his head.  He looked like some kind of absent-minded professor, but for the youthful features that peered up at you.  A sharp nose, tinted red from the cold, and a soft mouth.  Dark and depthless eyes, paired with high cheekbones and a cutting jawline.

You realized you were staring when he waved at you, eyes widened.  “Hello?”

“Um, sorry, I just,” you stammered, lost for words.

“Do you want to sit or something?”

You stopped again, mouth dropping open.  You checked the time—you had fifteen minutes or so, enough time for another table to open up.  “Uh, sure, if that’s ok with you.  I was hoping for a table, I’m meeting someone,” you said, beginning to ramble.

“No problem, I don’t need all this space, and I’ll head out soon,” he cut you off, raising one brow at you when you continued to stand there, rooted to the spot.

Ruth’s arrival with your cappuccino was what ultimately forced your hand.  You sat down, gratefully accepting the drink, your smile less shaky with a taste of the familiar.

“I didn’t think they did table service,” the stranger mused.

“They don’t, I just know the owners,” you shook your head, cutting yourself off when you saw his disinterest.  “Sorry, I should introduce myself,” you switched tacks, giving your name with a bright grin.  So what if it was forced?

The stranger looked at you, and his lips twitched in a shadow of a smirk.  “Minho,” he responded.

Silence fell, heavy and awkward, and you found yourself leaning forward desperately.  “So how’s your day so far?”

Minho snorted, reaching for his own drink—an iced americano, you guessed, despite it being the middle of winter.  “Probably better than yours.”

“What?” your brows furrowed in confusion.

He gestured to your legs with one hand.  “Unfortunate accident this morning?”

Your lips tightened, holding back a frown, “Puddles, you know.”

Minho sighed, sounding sympathetic now, rather than snarky.  “Yeah, life sucks, doesn’t it?”  And there was the sarcasm again.

“One or two bad things doesn’t mean life sucks,” you countered, sipping your coffee.  “I’m excited about the rest of the day, it’s not even eight in the morning!  And it’s the weekend, and it’s sunny and warm, and I have hot coffee and a delicious muffin, and the world is out there and ready to be enjoyed,” you finished, lips curling up as you looked out the window at the sunrise, the horizon flaming golden.

“Sounds like you’ve never had a job,” a harsh voice cut into your admiration.  Your smile faltered as you looked back at Minho.  You gaped at him, brain processing the way this soft-looking boy sounded like the king of cynics.  The last thing you expected from someone wearing a fuzzy beret and looking like a sly teddy bear was this blunt conversation.  “No one’s that excited when they have to work fifty plus hour weeks to pay the bills.  Trust fund baby?” he inquired, sipping calmly.

Yep, there was no fighting the frown now.  “No, and I don’t appreciate the judgement.  Why can’t I just be happy?”

Minho smirked, “Never said you can’t.  I just wanted to see if you had a personality beyond being Positive Polly.”

Your eyes flamed, but your phone buzzed, distracting you before you could smite the snarky boy.  You fumbled at your coat pocket, whipping out the device to check for a new message.  You slumped—just a spam email.

“Waiting for something important?” Minho asked, tilting his head.

You huffed, shoving the device back in your pocket.  “As a matter of fact, yes,” you sassed, tossing your hair over one shoulder.  “I’m waiting for a date.”

He hummed at you, expression unreadable.  “You’re too excited.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, eyeing the clock on the far wall of the cafe.

“You’re significantly early, watching the clock like a hawk, and they haven’t even texted you an update.”  He took a long sip.  “What time is your date anyway?  Eight in the morning?  They’re not coming.”

Your smile faltered again.  Damn him, why was a total stranger dimming your joy?  You shoved your chair back, even though no tables had opened up yet.  You’d wait by the counter and chat with Ruth.  Anything was better than this asshole.

Minho glanced over his shoulder, checking the clock himself.  “Five past, and still nothing,” he commented.

“Fuck you,” you spat.

A spark appeared in his eyes, and he grinned.  “Good to see you have some backbone,” he commented.

You could’ve sworn steam was coming out of your ears, but your phone vibrated again.  You checked the lock screen, seeing a new text pop up from Jay: hey I can’t make it.  You swiped on the message, but nothing followed it.  Seriously?  That was it?  No explanation, and not even a half-assed apology?

“Told you so.”

You spun to face Minho, glare renewed.  “And what makes you so sure of yourself and my date?” you demanded.

He snorted, “Life sucks; so does dating.  The only thing you’re guaranteed is disappointment.”

Your anger faded slightly as you watched the boy sip his iced coffee, his silhouette stark against the snow outside.  When you took a breath to get past your own mingled frustration—both at Jay and your new snarky companion—you saw the tense lines of his face.  You wondered what disappointment had left Minho so defensive.

“Alright, enlighten me,” you said, throwing yourself back in the chair.  This time, you settled in, sliding out of your coat and leaning forward with your coffee.  “Who broke your heart?”

A look of disgust slid over those pretty features.  “No one broke anything,” he scoffed, turning to the window and giving you another dose of his sharp profile.  You rested your chin on your hand thoughtfully, just watching him and waiting.  “Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered.  “You’re not my therapist.”

“But I am a perfectly kind stranger.  And strangers are the easiest people to talk to,” you said sunnily.

“And don’t sound so happy.”

“No can do, people call me Sunshine for a reason.”

Minho gave a long-suffering sigh.  “I’m not calling you that.”

Now you were the one with a cocky smirk, “Why, does it hurt your delicate masculinity?”

A beat of silence, and then, “One of my best friends is called Sunshine.”  Minho looked at you sharply.  “I’m not calling you that,” he said again.

You waved him off, oddly touched in spite of his gruff tone.  This human version of grumpy cat had a best friend named Sunshine?  Incredible, and surprisingly soft of him.  “Ok fine, no arguments from me.  Tell me about her.  Or him, whoever it is,” you stumbled over your words.

Minho didn’t seem to notice your blundering.  He stared somewhere beyond your shoulder, “No one broke my heart.”  Then his eyes focused on you again as he asserted, “I’ve just experienced enough to know better than to hope blindly.  The world isn’t looking out for you.”

Humming, you folded your arms as you considered his statements.  “Well, I believe in true love,” you started.

“Why am I not surprised?”  Minho groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I also believe in the power of positive thinking,” you continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  Ignoring his dramatic moaning, you steamrolled ahead.  “Yeah, my morning turned out pretty shitty, but if I just go crawl back in bed, I’ll have wasted a whole day over something as silly as wet jeans.”

“Wet jeans and being stood up.”

“And being stood up,” you allowed, gritting your teeth to maintain a smile.  “But if I let that stop me from living my life, then I’ve let the negative win.  If I go check out a new dating app or two and keep trying, one day I’ll have something good.”

Minho put his coffee down, resting one hand on the table as he met your eyes, gaze hard.  “Listen, nothing good comes out of a dating app.  You’re wasting your time.  And didn’t you say you hate doing that?”

You wanted to argue, but your friends had told you much of the same.  Minho was just less polite in his delivery.  But you hadn’t had any luck with real life men, either.  Case in point: your irritating argument with the perfectly attractive guy in front of you.  So that left apps, even if the pickings were regrettably slim.  And only growing slimmer, if the ghost date was any indication.  You didn’t have the guts to tell Minho that this wasn’t the first time you’d been stood up.

Then you had an idea.  Your grin widened, and Minho’s irritated expression faded into apprehension.  “Well if I’m doomed to never find love,” you started, batting your eyelashes teasingly.  “Why don’t I look for the love of your life instead?”

Minho blanched, recoiling with enough force that his chair rocked back on two legs.  “Yeah, no.  I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” you beamed at him.  “I’ve been a successful matchmaker for a bunch of my friends, too.  I’ve just had trouble finding my own love interest.”

“What is this, a rom com?” he hissed.

You clapped your hands, overcome with excitement for the first time since the puddle.  “Oh, a romance, I wish,” you nearly swooned at the thought.  “I promise I’ll do my best.  You’d get along great with one of my friends, they’re just as irritable as you.”

Minho exhaled sharply, massaging his forehead with one hand.  He closed his eyes, muttering, “What am I doing here?”

“Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.  No matchmaking until I know you better,” you amended, whipping out a notebook and pen from your bag.  You had just about everything in there—you never knew what emergency might pop up, like brainstorming a match for a stranger.  “What are some of your hobbies?  Favorite color?  Ooh, what about first date activities you love?  Oh my goodness, wait, are you looking for men or women?”

Part of you expected Minho to shove his chair back and leave.  You wouldn’t be too upset, that just meant you’d have the table to yourself, even if you weren’t waiting on a date anymore.  But you didn’t totally hate this guy.  And another part of you kind of felt bad for him.  He’d never experienced love!  Not that you’d had a taste of true love, either, but you knew what was out there.  And it was a shame that he didn’t see that too.  It was like...someone hating your favorite holiday—unacceptable, if only because you wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as you did.

You begrudgingly admitted that another teeny tiny part of you thought he was too attractive to be so cynical of love.  Some lucky girl out there was waiting for Minho, and you were gonna help her out, even if it meant dragging the man kicking and screaming towards her.

But Minho didn’t do what you expected.  He didn’t storm off, coffee in hand, scarf flapping in the wind dramatically.  He sighed and stood up, but made no move for his coat.  “If we’re doing this, I need more coffee,” he said, then turned and made a beeline for the counter without any further explanation.

You blinked after him, more than a bit surprised.  He was...going along with this?  You tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, watching his shoulders flex beneath his turtleneck as he talked to Ruth.  His head turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his smile—a real one—taking your breath away.

Now, if only you could get him to smile like that for any potential dates.  You clicked your pen with renewed vigor, laughing when Minho approached with a new coffee, exasperation written into every line of his face.

* * * * *

It was a lovely Thursday night, and you were curled up on the couch in your comfiest pajamas.  Your only companions were a blanket, a mug of tea, and your phone, which you checked every fifteen seconds.  The first time all week that Minho hadn’t answered your messages, and it was the night of his first date.  You were buzzing with anticipation, practically vibrating as you waited for news, not caring who it came from first.

Finally, you gave up waiting, throwing the blanket as you went to reheat your tea, since you’d let it grow cold while refreshing your messages.  The second you reached the kitchen, however, you heard a buzz.  You dashed to the couch, scrambling for your phone to find a text from Mari:

He had to dip early, lame date

You nearly screeched.  He left?  Your fingers pounded the screen:

What!?!?!! Did he say whyyy?

Mari’s response was short and to the point:

An “emergency”

You could read between the lines.  Mari was irritated, to say the least, since the blind date had been your brilliant idea.  But what on earth had happened with Minho?  Your stomach dropped, considering that he might have an actual emergency.  You quickly tapped out a message to him to check in, gnawing your lip in worry.

Hey, Mari said you had an emergency, is everything ok?

You waited what felt like ten thousand years before finally seeing the little bubbles appear.  His message, however, was not worth the wait:

Didn’t get on with her

You fumed, pressing dial on his contact with enough force, you were amazed your screen didn’t crack.  “You left because you didn’t like her?” you screeched as soon as he picked up.

“Yes.”

Gaping like a fish, you fumbled for words to explain how bad that was.  “You can’t just—”

“But I did,” Minho cut you off.

“But you can’t,” you said, exasperated.  “Jeez, I thought you knew what you were doing.  Obviously not.  You need a practice date or something so my friends don’t murder you.”

Now it was Minho’s turn to squawk indignantly.  “I do not need practice,” he started.

“Yes, obviously you do.  You might look like a player but you’ve obviously never talked to a girl for more than ten minutes,” you scolded him.  “Who leaves in the middle of a date?  With that bad of an excuse?”

“I hate wasting my time.  Didn’t we discuss how we should avoid doing that with our love lives,” he snarked.

You groaned, “There’s a difference between not wasting your time and being rude as heck.”

“So what?  She was abrasive, rude, cynical, and had a terrible sense of humor,” Minho said, as casually as if he was discussing the weather.  “I can’t believe you’re friends.”

“That’s a pretty great description of you, too,” you sassed back, irritation taking over.  “We might not be that close, but you can’t just insult everyone I set you up with.”

“Who said I wanted you to set me up with anyone?”

“I assumed you did, otherwise why are you going along with this?” you tried your best to calm down, lower your voice.  But something about Minho just put your back up.

“Uh,” Minho actually seemed lost for words.  Your ears perked up, eager to catch his answer.  “My mom wants to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he tossed out at last.

Seemed a bit too easy.  “Sure,” you drawled, leaning back on the couch.

“Yes, really,” he sneered, and you giggled, picturing the exact expression on his face.

“Ok, whatever you say,” you allowed, laughing slightly.  “But you’re still going on a practice date.  Tomorrow night, six o’clock.  Meet me at the cafe.  If you’re not there, I’m gonna find your mom and help her out.”

You hung up on him before he could argue with you, grinning madly as you concocted your plan.

* * * * *

You half expected to wait for Minho to show up, much like your friend did, but much to your surprise, he was waiting for you under the awning when you arrived.  “You’re late,” Minho accused, and you grinned sheepishly.  You may or may not have lied about the time.  Just in case.

“The queen is never late.  Everyone else is simply early,” you quipped.  Minho rolled his eyes—absolutely what you expected.  You giggled, linking your arm through his and tugging him down the sidewalk with you.

“Woah,” Minho yanked at his arm, trying to free himself.  “If you wanted to hold hands, you could have asked.”

“You’re too much of a grinch, you’d just say no.”

“Exactly.  It’s called consent, sweetheart.”

He nearly fell at the sudden freedom when you released him, shoving your hands deeper into your pockets to escape the chill.  “Alright, follow me then, you unromantic dork.”  He muttered under his breath as you skipped away, having fun despite his attitude.  Time to show him what a real date looked like.

Five seconds later, and not even two blocks from the cafe, Minho groaned, “Are we there yet?”

“No.”

A pause, then, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” you told him, not for the first time.  He’d texted you all night, demanding to know, but your lips were sealed.

Except a certain someone seemed determined to annoy the answers out of you.  “Are we there yet?”

You sighed, your skip feeling a little less peppy.  “No.”

“Are we—”

“Minho,” you ground out.  “If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking you to get your nails done.”

“Ok, sure.  I could use a bit of pampering,” he said, the epitome of casual.

You stared at him.  “This feels like a trick,” you said slowly.

A grin flashed, “That’s because it is.  It’s after six, they’re all closed by now.”  But then he frowned slightly.  “Now you have me wanting a manicure though, I’ve never gotten one.”

Your brows were practically in your hairline but you just nodded.  “Ok, another time, then,” you agreed.  You caught sight of a familiar street sign and quickened your steps.  “Almost there,” you were nearly vibrating in excitement.  You felt Minho’s eyes on you, your skin prickling with awareness, but you ignored him in favor of racing around the street corner.  And there it was—the zoo!  All lit up...all lit…...not lit up at all.  Your feet stumbled to a halt.

“So the zoo is open at night now?” Minho inquired at your shoulder.

You gaped at the dark expanse before you.  “But where are the lights?”  Because indeed, not a single light was on in the zoo.  You’d just visited, not too long ago, and they had been open for night visits, so guests could walk around and see the trees all lit up, and wave hello to a few animals in the enclosures.

“Lights?”

“The Christmas lights,” you cried out, frantic.  “They were up the last time I was here.”

“You mean a month ago?  For Christmas?  Back when it was still December?” Minho questioned you.  You nearly snapped back before you realized.  It was January.  February next week.  Of course the lights were down, what kind of idiot were you?

You groaned in defeat, slumping against the wall and sliding down to a crouch.  You threw your arms over your head.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do, then.  I’m sorry I made you walk all this way,” you mumbled into your knees, wishing you could disappear into the sidewalk.  Gosh, and you’d really dragged him along, hadn’t you?  He obviously hadn’t been that excited, and all of your mysterious “it’s a surprise” nonsense only made this a bigger disappointment.

“It’s a Friday night, things are still open, you know,” Minho pointed out.  “So what if you somehow forgot a whole month happened.  I forget the year sometimes.”

“What are you, an old man?” you tried to perk up, but the tease fell flat.

“I’m only twenty-two.  You must be ancient.”  You picked up your head to look at him.  A faint smile curled on his lips as he played along.

“Oh my gosh, I’m your noona.  If you’re a grandpa, then I’m practically in the grave,” you forced out a chuckle.

Minho’s smile grew, and he extended a hand.  “Come on, get up.  Night’s still young.”

For a moment, you simply stared at his hand.  Then you met his dark gaze, “You aren’t going to take advantage of this?  I thought you hated the whole practice date idea.”

He sighed, wiggling his fingers at you.  “I don’t hate spending time with you, alright?  Now get up or I’m leaving you here.”

Your mouth twitched, a true smile threatening to form, and not just a cover-up.  You slid your hand in his gratefully, and Minho pulled you to your feet with more strength than you thought he had.  You blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t let your hand go yet.  But the second his eyes followed your gaze, he dropped it, sliding his hands into his pants pockets instead.

“So where to?” Minho asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, remembering a pretty little outdoor skating rink, but the skies cracked open, interrupting you with a sudden deluge.  You gasped as the first fat raindrops splattered on your forehead, eyes widening before you made a mad dash for the nearest storefront, Minho already a few steps ahead of you.

You’d barely been in the rain for a minute, but the icy water had your teeth chattering already.  Had it been any colder, this would’ve been pretty snow.  Instead, you got an arctic firehose.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you peered down the street.  Beside you, Minho checked a weather app, hissing through his teeth.  “Looks like rain all night,” he muttered.

You groaned again, wanting to cry.  You’d completely messed up the evening, first with the lights, and now by not checking the weather.  You’d planned an outdoor date, why hadn’t you checked?

A hand brushed your shoulder lightly, barely detectable through your coat.  “Um, this might not be what you had planned, but my apartment is actually on this street.  Wanna just order pizza?”

Your first instinct was a vehement “no”, but you stopped that answer on the tip of your tongue.  Minho wasn’t one of the sleazy guys you’d gone out with in the past, the ones who’d thought an apartment invite was more than that.  Plus, this wasn’t a real date or anything.  It was a practice date, just pals, nothing crazy about that.  So why couldn’t you grab pizza at his place?  Especially with the monsoon and a long walk back to your own place.  And no umbrella.

You found yourself nodding, shivers wracking your body.  Minho’s teeth flashed in another fierce grin, “Alright, sweetheart, let’s make a run for it.  In three, two, one—”

The two of you raced down the slick sidewalks, dodging lampposts and puddles alike.  You skidded to a stop at one of the apartment buildings, nearly slamming into Minho’s back as he yanked the door open, and the two of you tumbled into the warm lobby.  Once out of the wet, Minho shook his head like a dog, water droplets spraying everywhere, and you shrieked, hands coming up to protect yourself.

“Sorry,” Minho laughed, not sounding apologetic in the least.  “I’m on the sixth floor, so we can take the elevator,” he said, pointing you in the right direction.

The ride up was awkward; the only sound was your jacket zipper rattling from the force of your shivers.  Minho unlocked the door to his apartment, waving a hand dramatically.  You stepped inside tentatively, toeing off your boots by the door.  You watched Minho follow suit, then pad over to a closet along one wall.  Your confusion abated when he emerged with towels, passing one to you with raised brows.  The two of you were still soaking wet, and you didn’t want to track rainwater all over his apartment.

Minho was already drying his head off one-handed.  When he stopped, letting the towel slip down to rest on his shoulders, you giggled at the sight of his hair.  He made a face, only adding to the comic effect of his hair standing on end.

“I know you drink coffee, but what about hot tea?” he asked, making his way to the kitchen while you continued to dab at your clothes.

You nodded enthusiastically, eyeing the space from where you stood in the entryway.  It was pretty minimal, not a ton of color or anything, but cozy.  Black couch, gray curtains, some photos on the wall.  Fairly tidy, but definitely nothing out of a magazine.  A meow at your feet interrupted your train of thought, and you looked down to coo at the cats that were slowly approaching.  “Well aren’t you gorgeous,” you complimented the bravest of the three, who nosed at your hand gingerly.

“Soonie, Doongi, and Dori,” Minho said, pointing at each cat in turn.  He leaned on the counter while waiting for the water to boil.

“They’re adorable,” you beamed at him.  “And much more friendly.”

“Hey,” he narrowed his eyes.  “I’m friendly.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed at him.  Your mirth was interrupted by a fierce shiver, reminding you that you might not be dripping wet, but your clothes were still icy cold.

Minho eyed you as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  “I have sweats you can borrow.”

You started to protest, but the next shudder of cold made you change your mind.  Besides, you didn’t want to get his furniture soaking wet.  So you nodded and waited while Minho disappeared into the bedroom.  You shuffled awkwardly to the kitchen, toes curling in your socks.

Minho reappeared.  “Here,” he said, voice gruff.  He pressed a pair of sweatpants into your hands, along with a fuzzy looking sweatshirt.  Your turtleneck wasn’t too wet, just a little damp along the neckline, but you slid the extra layer over your head gratefully.  Before you had to ask him, Minho pointed to a half-open door.  “The bathroom.  I’m going to get something dry on, too,” he added.

You smiled in relief, escaping to the small bathroom gratefully.  As soon as the door was shut, you were scrabbling at the soaking wet denim, peeling it down your legs.  You grimaced, not missing this experience at all after the last time.  Minho’s sweatpants were soft and oh so warm by comparison.  And fleece-lined, too.  You slung your jeans over the shower rod to dry, rolled the ankles of your borrowed pants—just enough so you wouldn’t be drowning in excess material—and went in search of that promised hot tea.

You found Minho on the phone in the kitchen.  When he noticed you, he waved you closer.  “Do you like anything on your pizza?” he asked.

“Um,” you scrambled to collect your thoughts.  “Cheese?”

Minho cracked a smile.  “Cheese it is then.  And peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, garlic, basil,” he rattled off what sounded like an entire grocery list.  When he noticed you staring, Minho raised his brows in confusion.  You shook your head with a small laugh, leaving him to it.  On the counter behind him, you found two mugs, tea bags already steeping.  You wrapped your cold fingers around one, humming in contentment.  Finally, the shivers stopped.

“Wanna watch a movie while we wait for pizza?” Minho asked, but then he froze, grimacing.  “Oh shit, sorry.  I mean, you can go home if you want.  I don’t mean to keep you if you don’t want to stay.  I have an umbrella, and you can keep the sweats I guess—”

“Sure how about a romance?” you interrupted him, grabbing your tea and making your way to the couch.  You plopped down, eyeing Minho, who was still stiff as a board by the counter.  You giggled at him, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from Mr. Darcy.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor.  An indignant expression wiped away any trace of sheepishness, and he stomped over to find the remote.  “Yeah right,” he scoffed.  “I’m not watching a romance.”

“A romantic comedy then,” you decided, snatching the remote out of his hands.

He grabbed it back, lightning quick.  “Action.”

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly.  “Drama.  Fight me and I’ll demand a Hallmark movie.”

Minho smirked, “Fight me and I’ll make it a horror movie.”

You groaned in disgust, glaring at him.  “Ok, fine, let’s fight over it.  Rock, paper, scissors?”

He rolled his eyes, but ended up on the couch beside you, holding one fist out to meet yours.  “Best out of three,” he smirked.  “Get ready for a zombie fest.”

After a crushing defeat, Minho slumped on the couch, moaning dramatically when you selected Pride and Prejudice.  You giggled at the grumpy man beside you, and his similarity to Mr. Darcy.  Most notably their matching pouts.

To your surprise, Minho didn’t interrupt the movie once.  Sure, he grumbled at first, but when you snuck a peek at him after about half an hour, you caught him watching intently.

You’d seen the movie at least a dozen times by now, but you still couldn’t resist the pull, and your heart fluttered at the brush of hands the way it did every time.  Your breath caught at every interaction, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away to save your life.  Until the pizza arrived, at least.  You were about to press play, two slices at the ready, when Minho looked over at you.  “Why are you so in love with the idea of love?” he asked.

You gaped at him for a moment, taken aback.  “What?”

“Not just the movie, but real life,” he said, twisting to face you fully.  “Why are you so determined to find Mr. Right?  Or to set me up on the perfect date?”

“Don’t you want to find someone?” you questioned him, backing away from the question.  “You can’t possibly be putting up with me just to avoid your mom playing matchmaker.  I’m literally no better than that.”

He scoffed, “You haven’t met my mother.”

“Maybe I should team up with her.”

“Oh please no.”

You grinned, grabbing a slice of pizza.  “Oh please yes,” you teased.  “Two matchmakers are better than one.”

Minho shot you an unimpressed look.  “I told her I already have a girlfriend, but I felt bad lying to her, so I’m hanging out with you instead.”

You nearly choked on your pizza.  So you were a pity friend, great.  Or worse, you weren’t even real friends, you were just a convenient excuse to alleviate Minho’s guilt complex.  You set the slice back down, no longer hungry.

“Hey, you know I’m joking, right?  That was a joke.  I’m sarcastic all the time, remember?” Minho nudged you.

“Yeah, sure.”

Minho sighed, leaning over to bump his shoulder into yours.  “I might not love the matchmaking, or this dumb movie, but I guess I’m glad we bumped into each other so I could tell you to dump ghost boy from Tinder.”  You snorted, biting back a small smile.  Noticing this, Minho forged ahead, “And this better not be part of the act to get me to forget my first question, because you still haven’t answered.”

“Minho,” you whined.  “Why does it matter?”

“Pretend it’s girls night.  We’re practically having a sleepover, minus the nail polish and braids.  This is the part where we talk about boys,” he smirked.

“I hate you.”

“Do we need to watch 10 Things I Hate About You next?”

Your brows rose.  “I thought you didn’t like romance, how do you even know that movie?”

“.....No reason.  Now answer the question already,” he huffed.

You sighed, curling up on your end of the couch.  “I guess it’s just something I’m not good at, so I can’t help wanting it to fall in my lap,” you said.  “I can’t pull all nighters to find love, that’s not how it works.”

“Well no, studying isn’t the answer,” Minho agreed.

“My parents have the kind of love I want.  I’m not rosy-eyed or anything, I know it’s hard work and commitment.  But the friendship—that’s what I love the most.”

The two of you sat in silence for a little while, Minho chewing on your words.  And you mused on your recent attempts to find a partner.  Perhaps dating apps weren’t the way to go, you admitted.  Not to Minho, though.  He’d never let you hear the end of it.

“Maybe,” Minho started.  “You should look for new friends instead of new boyfriends.”

“What do you think this is?” you laughed.  “I’ve been setting you up, not looking on Tinder or whatever for myself.”

“Good, you’ve wasted enough time on those trash apps already,” he groused.

You grinned at him, “So I guess you don’t want me to start looking for Bumble girls, huh?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

You giggled, but Minho pressed play on the movie before you could tease him any more.  To your surprise, he looked as interested in the ending as you were.  You doubted he was misty-eyed like you, though.

A yawn snuck up on you, and you glanced at the clock in surprise.  How had it gotten so late?  “I should probably be going,” you started.

“I’ll walk you home.  It’s late.”  Minho grabbed your dishes to bring to the sink, snatching them right out of your hands.  You blinked after him, then shrugged, making your way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, your jeans were still damp, but they’d be fine for the walk home.  You squeezed yourself back into the denim, emerging with the borrowed sweatpants.  “Laundry?” you asked, since Minho was busy with the dishes.

“Just inside the bedroom, next to the door,” he gestured with his chin, hands still sudsy.

You slid the sweatshirt off as well, placing both in the hamper by the door.  Despite your curiosity, you didn’t linger, but you caught a glimpse of an equally tidy bedroom.  And a large bed with dark sheets.  Why was your heart pounding?  Mr. Darcy hadn’t been that distracting.  You shook your head, hurrying out of the room.  Only then you came face-to-face with Minho, and you had to fight a blush.  What on earth was wrong with you?

The awkwardness continued, and you felt strange and itchy the whole walk home with Minho.  You were hyper aware of how close you were under the umbrella, of the way your elbows brushed every few steps.  Minho was surprisingly quiet, as well.  Ordinarily, he’d be making fun of you by now.

As you walked the last block together, you tilted your head to look at him.  “So tonight was a fail,” you said.

“What the heck are you talking about?”

“The practice date?” you giggled at his expression.  “Total failure.”

Minho’s frown deepened, “I thought it was fun.  Even if you made me watch a period drama.”

“Oh no, it was wonderful, but the date part of it was a bust.  We need to do another, since tonight doesn’t count,” you told him, slowing to a stop in front of your building’s entrance.

“Well what does count?” Minho asked, exasperation dripping from his tone.

“Hmm, something in public.  No one ever does a private first date, and obviously that’s what you need the most help with,” you sassed.  “Maybe I’ll kick your ass in laser tag or something.”

“Maybe I should beat you in bowling,” Minho retorted.

You hummed, tapping a finger off your chin.  “You might be onto something, actually.  How about you come up with our next practice date.  That’s your homework.”

“Since when is this a class?  With homework assignments?” Minho demanded.

“Oh shut it, or I’m making profiles for you on every dating app I know.”

* * * * *

You looked over at Minho, suspicion tugging at you.  “So when you said you should beat me at bowling, did you mean it?”

“I’m going to try and win at whatever we do, I’m competitive like that,” Minho said, holding the door open for you.

“No, I mean, are you secretly a professional bowler or something?” you corrected, making your way towards the shoe rental.

Minho chuckled, “I doubt you’ll believe whatever I say.”

You opened your mouth to object, but decided he was right.  “You better not be hustling me,” you threatened, slapping cash down on the counter.

“Pay per game or pay per hour?” the attendant asked.

Minho cheekily slid a few bills beside yours.  “Best out of three?”

“Insufferable,” you muttered, watching as the attendant took his money instead of yours.

At least Minho looked just as goofy as you did.  The brightly colored bowling shoes looked very out of place against his “cool guy” outfit.  You’d already poked fun at him.  Who showed up to a date wearing sweats?  Not that he looked bad in them, but you had at least dressed up a bit.  Then again, you might not have worn a dress if you had known that bowling was on the agenda.  You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater dress, feeling a bit out of place as you looked at all of the other couples.  Jeans, slacks, more jeans...why had you decided to dress up?  You should’ve known Minho would pick something casual.

“Hey, you wanna go first, or should I?” Minho’s voice cut through your thoughts, and you shook the negativity away gratefully.

“You go ahead,” you called over to him, trying to find a smile.  What were you so worked up about?  It’s not like this was a real date.  You could have shown up in a potato sack if you wanted, you weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all Minho.  On that thought, maybe he had the better idea after all.  You eyed his sweatpants enviously.  You knew how comfy they were, and they’d doubtless be better than the tights you were terrified of ripping.

“Ok sweetheart, prepare for a thrashing,” Minho joked, selecting a bowling ball from the rack.

“You prepare for a thrashing,” you countered, despite knowing it was an empty threat.  You probably needed the bumpers if you wanted anything but gutter balls.  Then you caught sight of the names on the board.  “Did you seriously make my nickname ‘Loser’?  What are we, five?”

Minho smirked as he passed you.  “We’ve been over this, I’m a grandpa, you’ve got one foot in the grave.  Childish antics are beneath us,” he said with a laugh.

“So you’re ‘Lee Know’?” you inquired, curious about his chosen nickname.

Minho turned to face you, tilting his head.  “Yeah, that’s what my friends call me.”

“...Am I supposed to call you that?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?  Call me whatever you want.  Just not ‘asshole’,” he joked.  Your heart warmed, and a true smile found its way to your lips.  You watched as Minho wiggled a little, eyeing the pins at the end of the lane.  Then, to your utmost surprise, he turned around and rolled the ball between his legs.

“What?” you choked on a laugh, nearly falling over at the sight.  Minho backed up, and you both watched as the ball rolled down the lane, painfully slow.  It ended up knocking down half of the pins, much to your surprise.  Minho just looked proud as he picked up another ball.  Miracle of miracles, he wound up with a spare.

You had no words, didn’t even bother trying to explain how his technique had any sort of success.  Your own attempt was...pitiful by comparison.  Your form looked good, but both balls wound up in the gutter in a matter of seconds.

Minho didn’t waste the opportunity to gloat.  “Told you I’d beat you at bowling,” he said with a wink.

You grumbled, flopping down onto the bench next to him.  “I didn’t expect you to be successful at the toddler technique.”

“Give it a go, maybe we’ll change your nickname if you win,” he laughed, getting up for his turn.

Halfway through the game, you even tried the ‘toddler technique’.  This was also a fail, made worse with the mortifying realization that your underwear would be visible if you bent over too far.  When your attempt ended up in the gutter, you resolved to get bumpers for the next game.

But Minho had other plans.  You had just approached the lane when you felt a hand on your shoulder.  “Keep your wrist straight, you keep twisting it at the last second,” he said.

You turned to face him, finding him close behind you.  “Anything else, wise one?”

“Don’t overthink it,” he smiled at you.  This close, you could swear his eyes were twinkling.  “We can both go get bumpers next round, I need them almost as much as you.  I’m amazed at my own streak of luck tonight.”

“I’m terrible at bowling,” you whined, looking away from him.  Your cheeks felt warm.  Gosh, it was embarrassing to be this bad.

“We can go do something else, we don’t even need to finish this game, let alone all three.  As long as you’re having fun, I’m happy.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but looked away quickly.  He was watching you so intently, the flush burned hotter, threatening to run down your neck.  “I’m sorry you paid for so many games.  We can definitely finish them, it’s fine—”

“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do,” Minho murmured.  You looked at him in surprise, surprised to hear him sounding sincere rather than snarky.  “Otherwise, I’d be a shitty friend, wouldn’t I?”

“Right, yeah.  An asshole friend,” you agreed, nearly stumbling over the words.

“Ok, I’ll let you focus on your first strike of the night.  Don’t overthink it,” he reminded you, walking back to the bench.

You nodded, ignoring the tight feeling in your stomach that reminded you of disappointment.  And you sank another one right into the gutter.

Minho’s solution to the bowling fiasco was consolation ice cream.  Somewhat surprising, since a part of you had expected him to gloat.  Instead, he talked about anything and everything but bowling, entertaining you while you both sat at the window of the local shop.  You simply watched him, enraptured.  He had hardly opened up at all to you at first.  Visiting his apartment felt like the first peek into the real Minho.  The happy memories captured in picture frames, the handmade mementos here and there on shelves, all hints as to the soft interior of your once-prickly friend.  Now he was regaling you with stories of his best friends—brothers, by the sound of it.  Loving rivalry, playful banter, sibling torment.  And the look on his face...pride.  He was proud of them, his family.

Then you paused, tilted your head to look at him anew.  When had Minho stopped being prickly?  Where was the cynical, negative, angsty boy you’d befriended, partly out of spite?  When had he stopped trying to hold you back with barbed wire edges?

When Minho caught your gaze, he lifted one brow, mouth twitching into a crooked smile.  “See something you like?” he sassed you.  But his remark was devoid of bitterness.  It wasn’t mocking, it was warm, inviting.  It was asking you to join in on the joke.

“Yeah,” you said softly.  Then you turned up the wattage on your smile, grinning widely at him.  “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

Minho rolled his eyes at your antics, spinning his ice cream cone between his fingers.  But hidden behind your grin was more than a little truth.

* * * * *

You knocked on the door, stepping back tentatively.  You could hear raucous laughter on the other side, which would ordinarily have you curious, maybe a little excited to join in.  Not tonight.  Right now, standing in the hallway outside Minho’s apartment, you were nervous as hell.  And on top of it all, you were nearly an hour late, having dragged your feet the whole way there.

“Stop it, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, shifting from foot to foot.  It felt like meeting the parents, which was dumb.  Firstly, you and Minho were not dating.  Secondly, these were his best friends, not his parents.  And thirdly, you and Minho were good friends.  You had nothing to worry about.  Absolutely nothing.

Which was why you were currently worrying all over the place about meeting Minho’s best friends.  What if they hated you?  Or worse, what if they pitied you?  You thought you’d disappear into a crack in the earth if that happened.

Before you could spend too long contemplating your inevitable end, the door swung open, and a boy came rushing out at you.  You gasped, jumping back before he could run into you.

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me!” he blurted, skidding to a stop, then immediately taking off running down the hallway.

You blinked in confusion, but your eyes only widened when a second boy came barrelling out of the apartment after the first.  “Minho?”

Minho paused briefly, eyes alighting on your stiff figure.  “Hi!  Um, I need to take care of something, but I’ll be right back.  Go on in,” he waved at you, breaking into a jog, and then a sprint.

Immensely confused, you peered into the apartment, now that the door was wide open.  Now or never, you told yourself firmly.  Easing through the doorway, you caught sight of six more boys in various states of chaos.  Upon noticing your entrance, they all froze.  “Uh, hello there,” came a voice on your right.  You looked over to see two boys in the kitchen, appearing to be mid-struggle with a bag of popcorn.  “You must be Minho’s friend, he said you’d be coming.”

You gave a tiny wave, pasting on a sunshine smile.  “Hi guys, it’s nice to meet you, I think?  Should I be concerned about the escapee?”

Popcorn boy number two laughed, arms bulging as he ripped open the bag.  “Oh no, Hyunjin will be fine.  Minho hasn’t made him eat toilet paper in years, he’s above that now.”  You must have looked concerned, because the boy chuckled again, waving you off.  “It’s all empty threats with that one.  Mostly.  I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Popcorn boy number one stepped forward, extending a hand to shake.  “I’m Chan, and this is our menagerie of chaos.  Let me introduce you to everyone,” he offered.  You grinned at him, relieved.

By the time Minho returned, practically dragging Hyunjin with him, you were giggling on the couch with the rest of the boys, embroiled in a fierce MarioKart race.  With Hyunjin still trapped in a headlock, Minho paused to watch.  You just barely caught a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye, too focused on staying on the track.  Jeongin had chosen Rainbow Road for your first match, and you were determined to crush them in the dust.  Even if it had been several years since you last played.

You watched as your character was knocked off the edge, a cry of dismay falling from your lips.  “Dang it, I wasn’t even in first place, what gives?”

Han grinned victoriously, only to cry out when he accidentally drove over the edge as well.  “Friends fall together?” he joked.

“You made me go ziplining.  Alone,” Minho said, announcing his presence at last.

“Uhhhh,” Han fumbled for an excuse.  “You love me anyway, though, right?”

Before Minho could retort, Seungmin stood up.  “You can play next, if you want,” he offered.

The rest of you blinked at him in surprise, before looking at his screen and realizing he’d already won the race.  Jeongin groaned dramatically, flailing on the couch as he came in second.  You and Han just gave up entirely, letting your characters fall off the track once more.  Meanwhile, Minho finally decided to release Hyunjin, and the blonde escaped to the other end of the couch, diving into a bowl of chips like nothing had happened.

Felix looked excited, so you tossed him your remote for the next round.  “I believe I was promised food,” you said, arching an eyebrow in Minho’s direction.

“I believe I told you to arrive at six,” he fired back, stalking towards you.  He finally stopped a foot away, looming over you.

You smirked at him, “What did I tell you on our first date?”

The room went silent, and you froze, realizing your mistake.  “You guys are dating and you didn’t tell us?” Han exclaimed, eyes wide.

Your mouth opened and closed, but you couldn’t seem to find any words.

“Oh yeah, real fancy dates, too.  We had dinner at the Eiffel tower last week,” Minho drawled.  “Isn’t that right, sugar plum?”  The cherry on top was when he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek.

A stranger might have mistaken his dry tone for sincerity, but everyone in the room knew Minho’s humor well.  Half of the group dissolved into giggles.  Changbin rolled his eyes and threw a pillow, but Minho caught it before it could smack into you.  “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend,” Changbin joked.

“All those promises and no follow through,” Han clucked his tongue in mock-disapproval, then ducked when Minho tossed the pillow at him next.

Your cheeks threatened to catch on fire again.  The situation only worsened when you met Minho’s dark gaze, his eyes ensnaring you.  “So,” you threw out desperately, clapping your hands together.  “The food?  Or am I going to starve?  Not very boyfriend-like,” you tried to laugh.  The joke must have been convincing, because the boys merely chuckled, going back to their game.

Minho still hadn’t moved from where he stood over you.  Instead of moving back so you could get up, he extended a hand.  You bit your lip, teeth digging in, but you placed your hand in his rather than make a scene.  The last thing you wanted was more attention, especially with your cheeks warming up past their usual temperature.

Fortunately, he released you as soon as you regained your footing.  Your fingers flexed lightly, hand falling back to your side.  You kept your chin high as you followed Minho to the kitchen, ignoring the prickling feeling that the boys were still watching you.

“Pizza?” you blurted out, incredulous.  “Don’t you eat anything else?”

Minho snorted, leaning against the counter.  “For the record, I do know how to cook.”

You snooped in the fridge, disbelieving.  “Of course, all evidence points to you being a five star chef,” you said, casting a pointed look at the empty shelves within.

He chuckled, folding his arms while he watched you investigate.  “Sweetheart, if you wanted me to cook for you, all you had to do was ask.”

You hummed, closing the refrigerator once more.  “I’m kinda afraid you’ll burn something, to be honest,” you teased, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and selecting a slice of now-cold pizza.  You popped the pizza in the microwave, then relaxed against the counter opposite Minho.  He was still watching you intently, and you frowned.  “What?  Do I have something on my face?” you asked him.

Minho shook his head wordlessly.  Self-consciousness took hold, and you looked down awkwardly, brushing your hair behind one ear.  “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said.  I totally didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“I know,” he said, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a half smile.

You tipped your chin again, unable to look at him for long.  Even if Minho seemed to forgive your blunder, you still couldn’t believe you’d blurted that out.  Your hair fell in front of your face again, and you let it, happy to hide behind the locks.

Then another pair of feet appeared a few inches from yours.  Plain black socks next to your patterned ones, covered in cartoon rainbows.  Then a butterfly touch along the side of your face, soft enough that you almost doubted the sensation.  You lifted your gaze, but this time, Minho’s eyes weren’t on yours.  Instead, his laser focus was directed on the hair he was gently situating behind your ear again.

You realized you had forgotten to breathe when he finally took a step back, and your lungs remembered to inflate.

“For the record, you’re right,” Minho said softly.  “The queen is never late.”

* * * * *

It was nearing midnight by the time Minho’s friends started leaving.  You eyed the clock, then went to grab your shoes as well.  “I better get going, I want to get home sometime before dawn,” you joked.

“How close do you live?  Are you taking the bus?” Chan asked, worry evident in his tone.

You waved him off, “I’m just a few blocks away, not too long of a walk.  Bus doesn’t run after ten or so, anyway.”

Chan frowned, but Minho cut him off before he could say anything.  “I was going to walk her home, it’s pretty late.”

That was a surprise to you, but seemed to alleviate Chan’s concern.  The others waved goodbye on their way out, Chan following them.  “Nice to meet you,” he said, shooting you a quick grin before closing the door behind him.

“You really don’t have to,” you started.

“I want to.  It’s late,” Minho reminded you.

“I didn’t argue last time, but I didn’t want to steal your umbrella.”  You narrowed your eyes at him.  “I’m not some little girl in need of protection.  It’s a perfectly safe neighborhood.”

Minho didn’t look up, busy tying his shoes.  “I like walking.”

“At midnight?”

“Any time of day, really.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Do you walk Jeongin home, too?”

“Sure did.  He moved in with Han, though, so I don’t anymore,” he said simply.  “You don’t have a roommate.  If no one’s there to make sure you get home safe, I want to walk with you.”

You gaped at him, unable to fault his logic.  And not really wanting to.  “Thanks,” you murmured, scuffing one shoe into the floor.

Minho stood up again, a crooked smile on his lips.  “Don’t mention it,” he said, snagging his keys.  “After you.”

Walking home with Minho, you were reminded of the first time.  Then, you’d been so awkward, quiet.  Unsure of yourself.  You’d been worried that you were some kind of pity friend at first, but after getting to know Minho, you knew that wasn’t the case.  And now that you’d grown comfortable around each other, you could hardly get him to shut up.  Even now, he was talking about his dance team’s newest choreo, his words running together from excitement.

You smiled, just listening.  This was all you really wanted, if you let yourself admit it.  The Tinder dates were just a shit attempt at finding someone to sit and listen to for hours.  You wanted movie nights and quiet mornings with someone who cared about you.  You wanted a cute little house and kids and a dog.  Maybe a cat.  Maybe three.

Shit.

You were so wrapped up in your realization that you didn’t realize you’d reached your apartment building until Minho snagged your elbow to pull you to a stop.  “This isn’t a midnight hike, where do you think you’re going?” he asked incredulously.

You laughed nervously, “Oh, sorry, I was pretty lost in thought.”

“Apparently.  Were you listening to a word I said?  Some friend you are,” he snorted.

Friend.  Right.  Your realization didn’t mean much.  Why were you surprised?  You hadn’t had luck in the romantic department in years, why would that change now?  Minho was your friend, and it was obvious that his opinion of you wasn’t going to change.  Why would it?  He was way out of your league.

Gosh, now you felt like a fool.  You’d really just daydreamed about a happily ever after with him.  Why did you ever bother getting your hopes up?  You were always bound for disappointment.  Hadn’t your crappy dates taught you anything?

Minho called your name, bringing you back down to reality.  “Sorry,” you muttered, fumbling in your bag to find your keys.

“Are you alright?” he asked.  Shoot, now he sounded concerned.

You pasted a sunny smile on your face, “Totally fine.  Thank you for walking me back.  I won’t keep you any longer.”

You turned away to walk up the steps, but the smile fell as soon as he was out of sight.  How were you only just coming to the realization that you were halfway—or perhaps all the way—in love with him?  His face was burned into your mind’s eye.  Brows furrowed in confusion, slight pout, and those damned eyes.  You’d probably been in love with his eyes from the beginning.

“I only agreed to let you play matchmaker so I could see you again.”

You stopped at the top of the steps, not quite believing your ears.  Turning slightly, you looked at Minho over your shoulder.

Once he had your attention, he continued, “I bailed on the date with your friend because I knew you’d yell at me.”

Lips parting in surprise, you turned to face him fully.  Minho put a foot on the first step, gaze locked on yours.  You weren’t sure what he saw when he looked at you, but his mouth softened into a slight smile.

“I was going to do the classic move of teaching you to bowl, but I chickened out,” he said.  “I wish I hadn’t.”

“What are you...why are you telling me this?” you asked, fingers curling nervously.

He ascended another step, “You only smile like that when you’re sad.  When you start getting in your own head about what you deserve.”  Another step, “And I’m tired of hiding.”

Now he was only two steps away.  Close enough to touch, if you dared to reach out.  You didn’t.  “We’re friends,” you said, voice small.

“Yeah, we are,” he agreed.  Then he bit his lip, drawing your attention like bees to honey.  You sucked in a breath, closing your eyes firmly.  When you opened them, Minho was on the step just below you.  “Tell me to stop,” he said, voice low.  You didn’t.

Your breath stuttered to a stop, your whole body stilling at the electric shock of his lips on yours.  For a moment, you were frozen, utterly focused on the whisper of a touch.  Then Minho pulled away, and you could breathe again, gasping for air.  But you didn’t want it to be over.  Your eyes fluttered open, finding his dark gaze melting into you.

This time, you let yourself fall into him, ignoring the voice in the back of your head that said this was a fantasy.  He caught you, one arm wrapping around your waist, his other hand coming to your jawline.  He ascended that final step, pulling your body into his.  His lips were plush, a little dry.  Real.  Minho was here, warm under your fingertips.

His hand slid up into your hair, slowly enough to make you shiver.  You sighed into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your arms as his fingers gently tugged the strands.  And then his mouth opened beneath you, and you let yourself tumble into sensation, drowning in him.

You don’t know how long you kissed, but your heart was racing when you finally came up for air.  Minho panted, little breaths puffing against your lips.  He rested his forehead against yours, the weight somehow grounding you.

“Do you understand now?”  Minho’s voice was hoarse, deeper than before.  You shivered, just a bit, and the corner of his lips twitched up.

You couldn’t find words, unable to string any coherent thoughts together.  And you didn’t really want to, happy to have your mind all to yourself, no doubts in sight.  You leaned forward, placing a small kiss on the tip of Minho’s nose.  He scrunched his face up, making you giggle.  But you needed to know one thing.  “Are we—are things different now?”

“We’re dating.  Unless you don’t want that,” he backtracked, eyes wide.

You grinned at him.  “I do.”

He heaved out a sigh of relief.  “Thank goodness.  I thought I really fucked up there.”

Now you really laughed, head falling forward to rest on his chest.  Minho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer than you thought was possible.  You could hear his heartbeat, thudding just as fast as yours.

“You said the friendship was your favorite part of love,” Minho mused.  You hummed in agreement, nodding against him.  “Well I hope you don’t get sick of me.  I hear I’m pretty annoying.”

“Minho,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you just rolled your eyes at me,” he teased.

“Well, you are annoying.  But I suppose it’s a part of your charm.”

He chuckled, “So that means you like my jokes?”

You smiled fondly, “Don’t push it.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[playgroundz]

Hi there! My name is [redacted] but you can call me Evo. My pronouns are he/it. Im 23 years old.

I'm not an age regressor but Im a DID system with syskids and some of us age slide to younger ages!

Main collections: sanrio, animal crossing, plushies (no specific brands), sylvanian families (retired aka not currently collecting more), cute food packaging, stationary

Lowkey collections (less invested in them..) : lunch boxes etc (usually character themed), stim toys, pokemon, vocaloid merch (especially project sekai), figures, bjds & fashion dolls, san-x, ...

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Fav shows: alps no shoujo heidi, Hilda, ATLA, a series of unfortunate events, sesame street, in a land before time...

Fav games / franchises: Pokemon, animal crossing, harvest moon, cooking mama, professor Layton, fire emblem, Kirby, mario (especially kart), ...

Fav characters (a short excerpt): miffy, my melody & usahana (sanrio), Lucario (pokemon), Joey & Roscoe (Animal crossing), Entrapta (She-ra), Julia & Bert (sesame street), ...

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Misc other stuff i enjoy & will probably reblog: theme parks & arcades, (old) electronics, 2000s toys like lps and polly pocket etc, cute art, arts n crafts, ghibli movies & other anime & nostalgic media, cute / nostalgic or fake food, stims, ...

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Original tags i use:

#evo rambles - my text posts

#evo hoards - collection pics

[endingboyhansel]

For those who don’t have a Twitter account and can’t access the thread, here’s a copy paste from it:

disclaimers:

- not all characters are included here

- these are all pure speculation and theorizing! do feel free to voice your opinion if you feel any of them are inaccurate

A Knight: Based on Roland the Knight (His Chitchat Ⅰ is from "Rolandskvadet"), and the sword Durandal

AliEn T: Originated from aliens supposedly mutilating cows throughout America, which caused this trend of UFOs with cows

An-an Lee: References a character named Kwan from the movie "Out of the Dark" (1995)

APPLe: Newton and his apple

Baby Blue: The wonderland from "Alice In Wonderland" by Lewis Caroll

Bette: Possibly Bette Davis and Charlie Chaplin combined

Bkornblume: She works at the Stasi, the state security service for Germany from 1950 to 1990, one of the most hated and feared institutions of the East Germany communist government + blue cornflowers

Bunny Bunny: Obviously, bunny girls

Centurion: Her name, specifically, came from the American Express Centurion Card

Charlie: Possibly based on the granddaughter of William Shakespeare, Elizabeth Barnard

Click: World War II photographer Robert Capa

Cristallo: Variety of glass named lead glass, commonly called crystal, used for radiation protection

Darley Clatter: Darley Arabian, one of three dominant foundation sires of modern Thoroughbred horse racing bloodstock

Diggers: The subculture in the 1960s called the hippies

Dikke: The Goddess of Justice, Dike, and the city Pamiers in France + the Code of Hammurabi, a Babylonian legal text

Door: The mirror from "The Snow Queen", by Hans Christian Andersen

Druvis III: Her last name references an actual lumber company, Weyerhauser + she references the ritual in which druids climb a sacred oak and cut down the mistletoe growing on it

Eagle: American scouts

Erick: Based on Erik Hakonsson, or Eiríkr jarl Hákonarson

Eternity: Canadian supercentenarian Julie Winnefred Bertrand, who lived for 115 years and 124 days

John Titor: John Titor, an (apparent) time traveler from 2036

La source: "The Source" by Ingres

Leilani: The name "Leilani" started trending after a song written by Bing Crosby titled "Sweet Leilani" became popular

Lilya: Lydia (or Lilya) Vladimirovna Litvyak, a fighter pilot in the Soviet Union during World War II

Matilda: Possibly the novel "Matilda" by Roald Dahl

Medicine Pocket: Their experiments reference the University of Utah's radioactive dog experiments (read: https://onegreenplanet.org/animalsandnature/nuclear-history-of-lab-beagles/…)

Mesmer Jr.: Franz Mesmer, known for animal magnetism

Mondlicht: Red Riding Hood combined with the hunter

Ms. Moissan: Henri Moissan, French chemist and pharmacist

Ms. NewBabel: Possibly the Tower of Babel, to signify her bringing a new era

Nick Bottom: Main character of "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by William Shakespeare

Oliver Fog: Oliver Twist (CN tl of Oliver Twist is "Orphan in the Town of Fog"), and the great smog incident in London in 1952 + the use of child labor at the time

ONiON: The newspaper named "The Onion", which is based in America

Pavia: 1541 urban legend about a werewolf in Pavia

Pickles: A dog named "Pickles" that found the Jules Rimet Cup lost in 1966

Poltergeist: Maybe the movie "A Ghost Story".

Rabies: The book "Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger

Regulus: The pirate radio trend that was especially prominent in the 1960s, the band "The Beatles" and the brightest star in the constellation of Leo, "Regulus"

Sotheby: The Sotheby's auction house that was founded in England

Sputnik: Sputnik 1, the first artificial Earth satellite

Sweetheart: The movie star Marilyn Monroe (quite literally as her CN name is Marilyn)

Tennant: Her Insight II garment name, "Gent Cullinan" references the Cullinan Diamond, the largest rough diamond ever found on Earth

The Fool: The main character of "Le roi s'amuse" by Victor Hugo

TTT: Jean Armour Polly, who popularized the term "surfing the internet"

Twins Sleep: The twins in the horror movie "The Shining" perhaps

Voyager: Based on the space probes Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 launched by NASA, and the golden disks within the probes recording pieces of classical music and 55 of Earth's languages + her outfit is the school uniform of girls from the Soviet Union, called maiden uniforms

X: He has great interest in Rube Goldberg machines, named after American cartoonist Rube Goldberg

Zima: Russian poets in general, though Anthon Chekhov is one of the main inspirations

end of thread! this took a lot of time and effort to make so i'd appreciate it if everyone could like and rt this!

other replies tldr:

— An-An references a lot of Hong Kong urban legends and 90s Hong Kong horror media as a whole.

— Eternity is also based on the Mercy Brown Vampire Incident and the cosmic ocean.

— Pickles is also based on Sirius from the philosophical book “Sirius”.

— Regulus contains references from British rock band “The Who” and the 1950s subculture of the mods (and rockers).

— Schneider’s surname Greco is a reference to Italian chess player and theorist Gioachino Greco.

— Sonetto’s name is Italian for "sonnet", a type of Italian poetry common in the Middle Ages.

— X is also based on the butterfly effect.

hello guys! i recently made this thread about reverse 1999'a possible cultural and historical references regarding its characters on twitter and im too lazy to make it again on tumblr so ill just. put this here :]

[mysticsparklewings]

One Birthday

---------- Happy Birthday to me! 🎂🎉

As a little thank you all for the birthday wishes—I missed doing a birthday drawing last year, so I was determined to make up for it this time! ✨ 

⭐️ And this year, I managed a time lapse of the art, too! ⭐️

TL;DR: The cake is based on my favorite combo (red velvet & chocolate buttercream), & Alice’s dress comes from a Polly Pocket set released many years ago; One I was sad to realize I never had as a kid, since Alice in Wonderland (1951) is my favorite Disney movie. 😆

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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I was absolutely determined to get a birthday drawing done this year since I missed out last year (partly because I was working on Drawn like a Magnet, partly extraneous reasons I talked about in the 2021 Art Summary) but I had already grown attached to the tradition only two years in. Unfortunately for me, I didn't have any super strong ideas and looking through potential Shopkin or Num Nom designs to draw (as I did in 2019 and 2020) didn't give me any, so I really came down to the wire on time in making this one. 😅 I was up until roughly 5:30 this morning polishing off details. Likewise, this definitely looks different from what you'd call my "normal style" even though that still varies pretty wildly with me. Since it took me until about like midnight last night to even think of an idea I genuinely wanted to run with, I had to make some quick style decisions if I still wanted the art to be relatively quick and easy, and not take until very late at night today to post it. So I opted for a more fluid sketch-inspired style with a sepia tone for a little extra ambiance--Something I likely wouldn't even have considered and might not've been possible (at least not as a "quick and easy" option) if it weren't for Procreate. Yes, I can't stop singing Procreate's praises lately. I can't help it. 😆 It definitely does have a few flaws/things I think are missing, but the everything else is so nice and easy to use! Anyway. The style more or less dropped into my head after I finally figured out my subject. I knew from the very beginning I wanted to do as I have in years' past where I get a cake involved so I can show off my personal favorite flavor combination of red velvet cake and chocolate [buttercream] frosting—which yes, I will be having IRL later 😉—but when I eventually stumbled upon the thought of drawing the iconic Unbirthday Cake from the 1951 Alice in Wonderland, (As was arguably inevitable since it is my favorite Disney movie)...it felt kinda wrong to do just the cake. Already, it's the unbirthday cake...Just changing the colors didn't feel like enough to "separate" it from that idea. And so my brain wandered over to an idea I've been keeping "on the shelf." Who remembers Polly Pocket? More specifically, the early 2000s version with rubber clothes? Well, I was pretty fond of those as a kid and had several Disney Princess sets. I was reminded of this and ended up browsing around on Google for information about the Cinderella set I owned (as it turns out, it was an earlier iteration that, while officially licensed, wasn't quite as nice quality as most of the later Disney Polly-Pockets that got released) via a conversation over in the Sparklers' Club, and while I was scrolling I discovered there was an Alice in Wonderland set that escaped my grasp. Albeit, it would appear after some more research this set was only ever sold at the Disney Parks. [I haven't as of yet been able to find a confirmed date though, so timing might play a role, too.] Aside from very obviously catching my attention because of the AiW nut I am, I also found this set curious (ha) because of the extra dresses included. The Queen of Hearts dress makes sense in a way, but the other three are totally new-to-Alice as far as I'm aware, and I'd love to know why those specific dresses were chosen. The purple one appears to be a nightgown (especially given it's the only dress without a pair of matching shoes) and the pink one reminds me a little of Cinderella's pink dress before her step-sisters rip it to shreds, or maybe Ariel's pink dress but less so. Beyond those basic observations, it's difficult to place rhyme or reason to the new clothes. Suffice to say, I found this fascinating and made a mental note in my head that it might be fun and interesting to draw Alice in these dresses sometime. Technically, that time is now for the aqua dress, but I'm still keeping that idea pinned in the back of my mind because I'd still like to draw the other dresses..And maybe draw this one again in a more "normal" style for me instead of this quickly-done one. But yes, the aqua dress was the one additional thing I was looking for to feel like I'd at least sort-of separate the "un" from this birthday drawing. 😆 I don't know if this will make sense to anyone else, but in my mind it works because the cake colors have been "shifted" in a way; The pink darkened to red, the white darkened a bit to a pale brown. In a similar way, Alice's dress is similar to the one we know, but not quite. It's sort of how a lot of things in Wonderland are "shifted" from what we know in the real world. You could also argue it makes sense that Alice would have a special dress for her actual birthday (as little girls not uncommonly do) and perhaps that was part of the intention behind this and the pink dress--Their colors do match the unbirthday cake, after all. 😜 I did toy with the idea of shifting the other colors on the cake for a bit, but after playing with the Hue slider, I decided they still looked best in the original palette, just with the saturation and brightness turned up a little. And I think that's fitting since Alice's hair and skin and so on are all the same, it's just her clothes that've changed. (Except for the cake plate, I did think it looked better as a pale pink than the normal pale blue, but that's a pretty small thing.) To that end, once I actually had a decent idea of where I was going with this thing, it was actually fairly quickly to sketch up. I spent more time just trying to piece together an idea and looking for the right reference images than anything else. And then of course, once I had the sketch this particular style moved arguably even quicker since I didn't have to spend quite as long as I normally might have futzing with the lines to get them smooth and clean and straight. This time around my focus was more so on just making sure the looseness of the lines felt at least somewhat consistent throughout since it is so different from how I'd normally handle them. Coloring was the easy part, since I didn't have to be precise or even worry about shading that much. And that was completely intentional--I didn't want to spend ages agonizing over the colors and shadows, trying to get every last pixel properly covered, etc. When the meat of the drawing was done (and I half-forgot to show her sleeves are glittery as they are on the real Polly Pocket version--fortunately I remembered before I finished!) I simply had to add something to that background to make it a bit more lively. Technically, in the movie, we don't get bright lights and colors sparking from the candle until after Alice blows it out, so I suppose here we'll have to pretend it's confetti instead, but that is naturally where I got the idea and I like how the colors ended up popped on the brownish background. 💥 And as one final touch, I decided to quote the very beginning of the Unbirthday Song along the top. At the beginning, the Mad Hatter and March Hare are explaining to Alice as follows: Mad Hatter: Now, statistics prove, prove that you've one birthday March Hare: Imagine, just one birthday every year Mad Hatter: Ah, but there are three hundred and sixty-four unbirthdays! March Hare: Precisely why we're gathered here to cheer Granted, I didn't really have room to write out "birthday" and had to shorten it to "day" (and even then I still had less space than I initially thought 😅) but hopefully, the idea is clear enough anyhow. Once again, I feel like this needs to serve as a reminder for me that not every art piece has to be some big complicated thing. Sometimes simple is better! And I'm really pleased with how the whole thing turned out considering it is so much simpler than what I'm used to and I had to pull it together a lot faster than I really wanted. 🥰 So I'll leave you all now with this for today--I'm off to celebrate, myself. 😉 Thank you again to anyone that's sent me well wishes; it really means a lot and I can't put into words just how much I appreciate it! You all add a little extra sparkle to my day, whether it's my birthday or not. 💖

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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[batsforbadones]

MORE STU SMUT MORE STU SMUT MORE STU SMUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pwease :3 💕

!!!!! I’ll try my best! This movie, which i have watched on multiple occasions and still fail to grasp not only the plot but the characters, haunts me to no end.

This one will be x fem but if any of you want me to write something else, I’m down for that. Sorry if this seems rushed.

Music, specifically songs, didn’t need a name. The idea that they did, that a name said all you needed to know about a song, you found pretentious. Other than it being a word the song said occasionally, or it’s method of music ( See : Symphony- Quartet- Choir- Hymn ) the idea that a name held that much weight was ridiculous to you.

Although you wouldn’t necessarily describe the man as a song - he was more or less a violent crash against a drum set, or maybe an extremely out of tune guitar - He still didn’t need a name. Even if you wanted one, you didn’t ask. That formality was thrown out of the window when he threw himself in through yours, covered in bright red paint, and introduced himself as ‘Just some guy. On the run from the cops. You?‘

That was a great question, you had thought. Your only means of response was a shrug. ‘Some chick, harboring a fugitive, I guess.‘ He found that funny, the guy. He let out a tiny, breathy chuckle, grabbing his chest as if that was some form of assurance. He reached behind him, not breaking eye contact as he slowly closed your window, leaving two, splotchy, long red hand prints on the white frame. He turned, took a last glance through it, and then slowly closed your curtains.

He turned back to you, smiling wide, eyes squinted.

“ Hey, some chick, mind if I- “ He gritted his teeth together and pointed to the floor.

“ Crash? “

“ Yes. “ He said, smile returning. He grasped his hands together, pressing his face into a pout to beg properly. You gave him a once over. The red stained, over sized, lime green polo set off plenty of red flags, and, at first, you didn't over look them.

“ I don’t know man. “ You mumbled. Though he looked sweet, and the prospect of such a thrill excited you beyond belief, you weren’t stupid. “ You could be like- a killer. “

“ Not yet. “

“ Do you have plans to be? “ He snorted, waving down.

“ Yeah, but like, who doesn’t? “ That was a fair point, you realized. And despite how serious your gut told you he was, it yearned him a spot on your floor atop your Polly pocket blanket. The spray paint had dried, he assured you. Which it had. Polly stayed pink and pretty despite the boy's- grime. He would look odd clean, though. You knew that right away.

That was a defining feature to the guy. His willingness to not only get, but stay filthy. He was just like that, you'd come to find. That night was only the first in the long string of times he snuck into your house, asking for refugee from whatever he'd manage to piss off that day.

The excuses were always ridiculous. At all times were they over the top and clearly lies. He had a spot on your floor regardless. It became a running gag to ask why he was breaking in, to which he'd always respond with something completely absurd.

' My friend Billy is gonna fucking stab me. ' You believed that full heartedly. 

' I accidentally came inside my girlfriend. She gave my this black eye. ' He had the black eye to back that one up.

One night you had asked the question, and he just smiled big and wide like he always did, sitting down on your bed like a father about to tuck you in. He leaned real close to you, pressing his thumb into the center of your chest, right between your breasts. You stayed silent, looking down at his hand.

" I was going to lie and act like a couple of dogs with like, mega rabies were chasing me, but honestly I'm just really horny. " He explained. He flattened his palm against your chest, which is when you noticed he was shaking. " I thought you could help with that. "

" Don't you have a girlfriend? "

" Not anymore. " There was a slight shift in his eyes. Like it was a lie, but- not a normal one. Against better judgement, you took his word for it. " Then yeah. I can help with it. " There it was. That big, goofy grin, the widest you had ever seen it, in fact. He knew the effect it had on you, as his hand was sliding down to your stomach to poke at it. " You can? " " Yes. " " Are you sure you can? " " Are you doubting me, window boy? " " Window boy! That's a new one. I've heard creep, heathen, criminal, hooligan, delinquent- " He prattled, " But window boy? " He scoffed. " Don't bully me, now. " " You'd probably be into it if I did. " " You're not wrong, but still- " " Oh, I'm not wrong? " You asked, " Do you want me to keep calling you window boy while we fuck? " A deeply satisfied look crept onto his face along side a heavy blush. " How about, " He took your hand, bringing it up to his scalp. Your fingers latched onto his hair, giving it a gentle tug. " How about your bitch? " " My bitch? " He bit his lip, nodding. He leaned forward, his lips, chapped and dry, ghosted against yours. He quickly pecked you three times, laughing at your shock. " Yeah. " He said. " Okay, " You paused. " Bitch. " Even you had to admit you didn't sound very convincing. He snorted. Dropping his head onto your chest. " No- you have to like, mean it. " He explained, " Get angry- get heated. I'm a bitch, right? " He taunted. " Then treat me like one. " " You haven't done anything to make me mad. " You shrugged. " What am I supposed to do? Conjure rage out of thin air? " " I mean, yeah. " You rolled your eyes. " Do you want me to make you mad? " " Sure. You can try. " " Uh- Bitch. Whore. Slut! " He said, excitedly. You tried, you really did, to muster up any form of anger against the guy, but the look of thrill on his face made you too gushy. You shook your head. " Nah. Now that I know you're trying I can't manage it. " " Makes sense. Not to be a dick, but you're really easy to walk over. "  You paused, the guy standing. With a hand on the back of his neck, he bent back abruptly, popping his spine. " What? " You questioned. " You're a bit of a doormat. " He repeated. " A push over. Easy to manipulate. " " Easy- Excuse me? " " Do I need to repeat myself, or are your two brain cells taking their time processing? " " Last time I checked, I wasn't the lowlife breaking into houses. " He turned quickly, rushing back to your side to press his forehead against yours. " Last time I checked, I wasn't the dumb bitch letting strangers into her house past the haunting hour, but hey- " He ranted, " Last time I checked I also had more than two brain cells, so- " " Fuck you. " " See, that's what I was trying to get at this whole time- " You pushed him roughly, the boy going down with ease. He let out a laugh as you jumped to straddle him, pressing his arms to his chest. " Fuck yes! " He laughed. " Get mad! Get mad! " He encouraged. You grabbed his shirt collar, yanking it down to the middle of his arms. " Hey, hey! " He whined. " You're gonna stretch my shit- " " I don't want you crying when I come on your face, and it gets on your cheap shit. " " Cheap? " He feigned offense. " This is from abecrombie- " You began slipping out of your pajama pants, pulling them off to reveal your pantie clad lower body. The boy went quiet, starring down at your under wear. " Dr. Seuss, " He laughed. " Charming. " You felt him shift uncomfortably beneath you, letting his head lull back. " Having issues? " " I can't move my arms, and I really- really want to stroke my dick right now. " " Wow. That sounds like it sucks. " " It does. "

" Good. " He laughed again, moving his legs up to nudge at your back. His knee feebly tried to raise your shirt, the concentration on his face making you all the more heated. " Come on- Shirt off? " " Ha- No. " You mused. He groaned. " You're killing me. " " Well, I will be in a second. " You scooted up to place your groin over his mouth. He starred up at you with wide eyes. A grim smile broke out on his face, his eyes dragging over Thing One and Thing Two. He nipped at you, making you lean back quickly. " Careful their, buddy. I have full option to dick punch you right now. " His smile melted into a look of content, face turning red at the prospect. " That's a threat? " " Gross. " " Pussy. On my tongue. " He stuck his tongue out from between his teeth. " Now please. Give bitch his meal. " " Get to it yourself. " You sat down as he wished, the boy smiling against your covered cunt. The curve of his teeth against your clit made you twitch slightly. Rolling your shoulders back, you got comfortable as you watched him struggle to get past The Cat in the Hat. His struggle wasn't long. He wasn't patient, it seemed, as you heard a harsh rip, felt a tug, and then a content, breathy laugh against your pussy. You looked back down to find the boy spitting out the fabric of your underwear, face red. " All we could do was sit! Sit! Sit! " The boy mocked, looking impressed with himself. " And we liked it a lot more than a little bit. " His tongue dragged a wet stripe from your taint to your clit, you gasping as he did such. He was by no means an expert, but the boy made up for it with enthusiasm. He nipped and licked with too much vigor for you to notice any lack of skill- And you rode his face until you came.

‘ Did I make you mad ? ‘ And you kept the memory after he stopped showing up. It was locked away- Used only for when you were lonely- Which was pretty often. It was the last time you'd see him, you figured. The last time that racket of a boy would sneak into your house. Unfortunate, you thought. It was something else.

And then you learned his name from the news.

[alwaysupatnight]

Top 5 Books or Video Games you would like to see onscreen AND Top 5 Character Wardrobes you want to raid for your own closet and Top 5 coolest toys from your childhood!💖💖💖

Top 5 Video Games I wanna see onscreen:

NONE. EVERY LIVE ADAPTATION OF A THING I HAVE LOVED HAS BEEN TERRIBLE. AND WOULD THE RESIDENT EVIL MOVIES JUST DIE ALREADY?! 😩 They already ruined the new CGI netflix thing by casting the same voice actors as in the RE2 remake. 🙄 Just... I absolutely NEVER wanna see my fave games made into live action things okay. NEVER.

(With the exception of TLOU because that’s happening whether I want it to or not, and while I love Pedro and think he’ll be amazing as Joel, I still don’t believe TLOU ever needed a live action adaptation when it was already perfect.)

That said, I would LOVE to see an ANIME version of Legend of Zelda. lmfao That’s probably why I actually really loved Breath of the Wild. I know there was an animated series back in the 80s but yeah NOT LIKE THAT. XD I tolerate the CGI Resident Evil movies when I’m missing Leon, but they’re... not good. 🤣

Top 5 Books I wanna see onscreen:

After witnessing what a complete disgrace the Vampire Academy movie actually was, I never want to see any of my faves onscreen ever again. But if it was done RIGHT, they could’ve made a couple of great VA movies ngl. It would’ve been so amazing. Forever disappointed. 😤

I also always thought the Black Dagger Brotherhood series would make a good tv series. I mean... as long as it was on HBO or something because of all the sex. lmfao That would be interesting. It probably wouldn’t be GOOD. But yeah. sexy vampire bros. lmfao I’d be there for it.

And the Murderbot Diaries might be fun as movies or a tv series... maybe. lol I’ve been listening to the audiobooks and I’m not sure I would’ve gotten the same enjoyment out of them if I’d read them instead. The guy from the audiobook was too good. XD

Top 5 Character Wardrobes to raid for my closet:

okay so this isn’t exactly wardrobes but more like specific items I liked from their costumes? lol idk I never watched those gossip girl and 90210 shows okay and idgaf about friends or sex in the city XD None of the characters I love have really extensive wardrobes... some hardly had any costume changes at all...

Kate Fuller’s American Eagle denim hoodie lmfao. Emily Kinney actually used to wear one just like it but it was gray, not black and I have always wanted one 🤣

Beth Greene’s Dan Post Vintage Arrow cowgirl boots (if I ever thought I could actually pull off cowboy boots that is XD)

Danielle’s “just breathe” dress and wings from Ever After

AMARU’S RED BOOTS. WHERE DO I FIND THEM?!

and not a fictional character, but Madie’s black and white striped shirt with the wide v-neck [1, 2, 3] She wore it several times a few years back and ugh I WOULD ABSOLUTELY WEAR THAT. IT LOOKED SO GOOD ON HER THOUGH

Okay I lied. I just realized I would absolutely raid Alexis Rose’s closet XD Top 5 coolest toys from my childhood:

oh man this is gonna age me so bad 😅

Those Fairy Winkles toys. They were like Polly Pocket but with FAIRIES. Sadly I lost all but one of my fairies 😔

Ghostbusters firehouse before we broke it 🤣 and the cruiser

Bratz dolls. I think I had all the original ones XD

Jurassic Park the lost world t-rex that swallowed things and roared. It wasn’t actually mine, but it was badass. I actually still have the Tim and Ellie figurines too from the first movie lol

Nintendo SNES/64

ASK ME MY “TOP 5/TOP 10” ANYTHING!

[kangtaebins]

Weird Asks That Say A Lot

I said I was going to just answer all of these bc of boredom,, and so here I am

1. Coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups are aesthetically pleasing idc what anyone says

2. Chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops

3. Bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy supremacy

4. How did your elementary school teachers describe you? I was told that I was a leader a lot, and was told that I was very intelligent. Ah yes, I suffered from gifted kid burn out in high school-

5. Do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Look, plastic cups are the best. Specifically the ones with the lids and reusable straws

6. Pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? It truly depends on the day bc some days I would say goth and other days I’d say grunge, but most days- pastel

7. Earbuds or headphones? Earbuds

8. Movies or TV shows? TV shows bc- idk actually I’m just not a movie person

9. Favorite smell in the summer? I have a weird obsession with the smell of cheap sunscreen and I have no clue why

10. Game you were best at in p.e.? I hated gym in high school and rarely participated despite the teacher being irritated with me (truly she gave up after a few months bc I really did not care at all) HOWEVER- I went to town in volleyball and still enjoy playing volleyball v much

11. What do you have for breakfast on an average day? I don’t eat breakfast often,,, 

12. Name of your favorite playlist? Probably my Navy or Indigo playlist

13. Lanyard or key ring? Key ring 

14. Favorite non-chocolate candy? Anything green apple!!!

15. Favorite book you read as a school assignment? I actually genuinely enjoyed Romeo And Juliet tbh

16. Most comfortable position to sit in? I always curl up in a ball on the couch, but in a chair I manspread ngl

17. Most frequently worn pair of shoes? Nike slides <//3

18. Ideal weather? Between 50-70 degrees, sunny but not warm, being able to wear a hoodie and not be hot or cold

19. Sleeping position? I usually either sleep on my left side or on my stomach (my back once in a while when it’s hurting bc I’m a hag)

20. Preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? I write on my phone more than anything

21. Obsession from childhood? Hm- I was really obsessed with High School Musical as a kid. My friend and I would put it on and lip sync to the songs and pretend we were the characters

22. Role model? Is it- wrong to say myself? Bc I feel like that sounds arrogant but genuinely it’s bc I’m constantly trying to better myself mentally and learn and grow. Idk I just am proud of who I am and look to myself when I need to find motivation

23. Strange habits? Strange? Idk if it’s strange but I’m constantly twiddling with the hem of my sleeves bc I love the feeling of it

24. Favorite crystal? Citrine 

25. First song you remember hearing? WH- bitch idk tf

26. Favorite activity to do in warm weather? Stay tf inside in the air conditioning

27. Favorite activity to do in cold weather? Stay tf inside in the heat

28. Five songs to describe you? To describe me?? Girl idk I'm all over the place. How about songs that resonate with me instead,,, Alive by Khalid, Paranoid by Lauv, Phobia by Dvwn, Fake Smile by Ariana Grande, and Breathin by Ariana Grande

29. Best way to bond with you? Truly I'm not very difficult to get along with, just don't be an asshole. Talk to me about psychology, current events, say Soobin is the cutest to exist idk it's not that hard

30. Places that you find sacred? I- hm. I'm not like a church person or anything so idk. Maybe just anything really old or places with very detailed and unique architecture

31. What outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I don't own many clothes,,, let alone nice clothes. I also don't really dress to impress I'd much rather be comfortable

32. Top five favorite vines? Oh god if I h a d to pick???? The lipstick in the Valentino bag, they were roommates, it's an avocado- thaaanks, jared 19, and uh,,, zach stooppp you're gonna get in trouble

33. Most used phrase in your phone? Tbh it's probably "girl what-" or "no bc"

34. Advertisements you have stuck in your head? That 877-CASH-NOW ONE JFC

35. Average time you fall asleep? Between 11pm-1am

36. What is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Probably the troll face one or smth

37. Suitcase or duffel bag? Suitcase

38. Lemonade or tea? I mix them together!

39. Lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Lemon meringue pie bc I don't really like cake

40. Weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Y'all I- went to a hs/college mixed school,, I've seen it all. Weirdest?? Idk but one weird thing I remember was when we were making whistles in art and some dude made a penis whistle 😭

41. Last person you texted? My best friend :))

42. Jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. Hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Hoodie 100%

44. Favorite scent for soap? I love soaps that smell like soap. Like ok duh I know that sounds dumb but yk what I mean? I don't want lemon or mint or whatever, I like the plain soap smell

45. Which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy

46. Most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Oversized t-shirt, no pants. I question anyone that is comfortable sleeping with pants on-

47. Favorite type of cheese? Feta!

48. If you were a fruit, what kind would you be? I feel like I'd be a pineapple and I have no clue why

49. What saying or quote do you live by? Not necessarily a quote but more of a thought: live for yourself, enjoy each day, do what gives you joy

50. What made you laugh the hardest you ever have? I have had so many instances in which I have laughed so hard I peed and to even attempt to name one is impossible

51. Current stresses? Making sure my family gets their vaccines and stays safe

52. Favorite font? I don't think I have one? Anything except comic sans

53. What is the current state of your hands? What does this even mean 💀 I mean,, they're holding my phone, cold, and my nails are unpolished

54. What did you learn from your first job? That people are assholes but I'm capable of not giving a fuck bc life is not that damn serious

55. Favorite fairy tale? Is The Three Little Pigs considered a fairy tale?

56. Favorite tradition? Putting up the Christmas tree with my mom :( it's always a lot of fun

57. The three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Depression, grief, and hopefully one day- smth I'm currently dealing with

58. Four talents you’re proud of having? Makeup!! But also: singing, crying on command, and tying cherry stems with my tongue

59. If you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Sick of these bitches

60. If you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? I don't watch anime so idk

61. Favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? It's this line from Eleanor & Park: "Eleanor was right: She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."

62. Seven characters you relate to? Holy hell, 7?? Probably won't get that many but hm,,, Darlene from Roseanne, Hermione from Harry Potter, Emily from Pretty Little Liars maybe?? Idk I suddenly blanked

63. Five songs that would play in your club? As if it's Your Last by BP, anything from SHINee, anything from Ariana, also anything Rihanna, just a bunch of women tbh

64. Favorite website from your childhood? FUCKING WEBKINZ BRO

65. Any permanent scars? I have a few on my arms idk where they came from tbh, I also have one on my hand from my sister 🧍🏻‍♀

66. Favorite flower(s)? Sunflowers!!! I also really love lilacs 💔

67. Good luck charms? My dog's collar that I wear as a bracelet

68. Worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? Licorice-

69. A fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? It takes repeating a piece of information 12 times at random to memorize it completely

70. Left or right handed? Right

71. Least favorite pattern? Fucking chevron- and realistic camo, and anything with the American flag

72. Worst subject? Yall im awful at history. American history, world history, all of it-

73. Favorite weird flavor combo? Either pickles and peanut butter or cheese and grapes

74. At what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I'm stubborn but also always in pain so I've become numb to a lot of body pains. I have to be at like a 7-8 before I take smth otherwise I'd always be taking it

75. When did you lose your first tooth? I was probably like 5 I was definitely in Kindergarten

76. What’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I fw baked potatoes

77. Best plant to grow on a windowsill? I have a love for succulents

78. Coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Oh my- I don't drink coffee but coffee from a gas station

79. Which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? Driver's license for sure

80. Earth tones or jewel tones? Jewel tones

81. Fireflies or lightning bugs? I say both,, but I think I say lightning bugs more

82. PC or console? PC

83. Writing or drawing? Both

84. Podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts definitely

84. Barbie or polly pocket? Barbie

85. Fairy tales or mythology? Fairy tales

86. Cookies or cupcakes? C o o k i e s

87. Your greatest fear? Losing people I love

88. Your greatest wish? To live comfortably and be a great mother

89. Who would you put before everyone else? My family

90. Luckiest mistake? Guessing on 90% of a test and getting an A 💀

91. Boxes or bags? Bags are easier to carry-

92. Lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Fairy lights!!

93. Nicknames? Sam, Sammi, my sister calls me Sams, my best friend calls me Bub, and my gf calls me Baby if that counts- 👀

94. Favorite season? Fall omg it's gorgeous and has perfect temperatures

95. Favorite app on your phone? ✨tumblr✨

96. Desktop background? Its literally a pic of Soobin, Taehyun, and Beomgyu

97. How many phone numbers do you have memorized? Like 4-5

98. Favorite historical era? The one where white people learn their fucking place and stop being racist, homophobic, classist, sexist, all the -ists and -phobics,,,, so none. Fuck history :))