#was making a marshmallow cream frosting when i woke up

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

ive never had a school dream before what is college DOING TO ME

[polkadotsunshine]

Dr. Pepper

I sort of like soda. If it’s in front of me I’ll drink it but mostly I just have water. I sort of like 7 Up more than I like any other soda in the same way that I sort of like red M&Ms more than any other color. Here’s the thing: nobody “sort of” likes Dr. Pepper. Its strong flavor cleanly Donnie Darko divides the world into lovers and haters. You are either a die-hard Dr. Pepper fan or you can’t stand the taste.

On my first full day on a vacation to Texas, I was explaining this school of thought as we bought groceries for the rest of my stay. As I elaborated, my host stopped dead in his tracks, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Well, you’ve never had to drink nothing but Dr. Pepper for 12 days straight.” I could sense this trauma had not yet healed so I didn’t ask what he meant. 

In this silence, he leaned over to the shelf beside him and, with the biggest smile I have ever seen him have, he pulled out two massive three liter bottles of Diet Dr. Pepper. I had never seen a three liter bottle of anything before. He noticed my shock and held them up to a two liter bottle on the shelves. “You don’t have this kind of thing up north.” He was right. With a slight flourish he dumped them into our shopping cart. You don’t make room for that kind of thing in your cart. Everything else makes room for it.

The gears in my head fell into place. Thoughts with this amount of torque change a person. I asked my host to mentor me in the ways of Dr. Pepper; I too wanted to drink nothing but Dr. Pepper for days on end. With childish optimism, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could cross the infinite divide between hate and love. My host accepted my request. In his wisdom, he picked out a 12 pack of Dr. Pepper & Cream Soda Zero Sugar cans. 

On the first night, I was still jet lagged and turned down every suggestion of night time activities. I didn’t want to roast marshmallows or play board games or watch a movie. With our options exhausted, my mentor at last suggested, “Well do you at least want some Dr. Pepper?” I did. 

I had to literally roll the bottle out from the back of the fridge because the three liter monstrosity could not fit in even the fanciest of Texas sized fridges. Then, I poured myself a glass and retired to my quarters. I lay awake as a terrible stomach pain overwhelmed me.

I consulted an online network of supplementary Dr. Pepper mentors to see if this could be a symptom of my transition to Pepperhood. One scholar replied, “Let the doctor work.” I downed the rest of my glass and fell asleep. When I woke up, I at once understood the advice. 

The previous day, in my hubris, I had eaten a downright vile volume of queso for lunch, despite my lactose intolerance. As previously described, I sort of like soda and will drink it if it’s set out in front of me. Well, I really like queso. Imagine the visceral things I do when something I like is set out in front of me. 

My friends unknowingly organized my funeral when they ordered, without my input, a heaping bowl of queso topped with chorizo, pico de gallo, and guacamole. A cheese induced brain fog had obscured this memory and convinced me that Dr. Pepper could be at fault. I would not blame her again. 

As many non-American home remedies claim, a good swig of toxic US soda will counteract the toxins of sickness and flood them out. Well, buddy, Dr. Pepper has 23 flavors to besiege the comparative 1 of lactose. Throughout my entire second day, my body ejected an uncountably infinite mass of cheesy hell. Up against the overindulgent Texas queso, Dr. Pepper’s toxins waged the American Civil War inside my stomach, in a thrilling prequel to the inevitable police state of Osmosis Jones. 

On the third day, I was cured. That night when we went out for dinner, in the name of stomach Reconstruction, I ordered, “Just water.” I now have philosophical proof that God exists because my water came in a crimson frosted plastic cup bearing the Dr. Pepper logo. The water tasted sweet. When we got home, I celebrated with a can of the cream flavored Dr. Pepper. I liked it a lot more than the Diet Dr. Pepper variant. At that exact moment, I was hooked on Pepper fever.

On the fourth day, I suffered a painful hunger because, to put it bluntly, all the food around the house sucked. I didn’t want to eat. Yet, Dr. Pepper provided. As a non-soda drinker, I shockingly learned that a simple can could fill you up. I leveraged this ability for the remainder of my trip. Dr. Pepper blessed me with a new experience of life; for the first time outside of a buffet, I felt full when eating dinner. On the fifth day, I understood how to use Dr. Pepper’s caffeine to fix my sleep. On the sixth day, I became at peace with its flavor. And so it was that on my seventh and final full day in Texas, I rested. And it was good.

On my trip back to New York, I felt a familiar stomach pain while boarding my airplane. I had eaten two cheesy tacos from “Buc-ees” for breakfast. Despite the relatively small amount of cheese in those tacos compared to the queso one week earlier, the poor quality of the food amplified its severity. Though “Buc-ees” sold merchandise of its mascot, was several times larger than my local grocery store, and was generally hostile to poor people, it was still a gas station with gas station food. My position as a polite prisoner in a plane with 100 other people only made the situation worse. I knew what I had to do.

I asked the flight attendant for Dr. Pepper. It calmed me long enough for my stomach to process the food. At last, I entered the airplane bathroom and blasted the last remains of Texas out of my body. I know with spiritual clarity that I flushed that toilet at the exact moment the plane crossed the Mason-Dixon line. The war was over. The boys, now men, were coming home. 

I love Dr. Pepper. 

Dr. Pepper is a warrior, a friend, and to be completely honest, tastes kinda bad.

[seacottons]

— christmas with ateez

notes: fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue.

— park seonghwa

"But it's not fair! I gave you your present early!"

The male merely spun around, ignoring your whines as he adjusted the flickering lights over the fireplace. The wood crackled merrily in the fire and casted a brilliant orange glow onto the man's chiseled face.

"Yes, and I love it, but I never agreed that I'll give you your present early," he spoke as he jabbed the wood with the poker stick, sending bursts of sparks in the air, "Just be patient, love. Only a few more days."

"Okay, but," you grumbled as you sat crossed leg onto the couch, arms crossed and lukewarm coffee long forgotten on the table, "It still isn't fair."

With a sigh, your lover stands up to walk into the bedroom, before towering over you with a palm sized gift box. Taking the cover off, he dipped his hand inside, "Alright, fine. Since you won't stop acting like a baby, I guess it's only fair if I return the favor. You're going to love this," your eyes grew wide in anticipation as he simpered mostly to himself. He drew out his empty hand, only to shoot you a heart with his index finger and thumb. You guffawed momentarily, jaw dropping and heart sinking. Disappointment washed over you as he nearly doubled over with laughter.

"Park Seonghwa! You're not funny!"

You attempted to push his chest away with your fuzzy sock-clad feet, only for him to settle down in between your legs, hand propping his face up as he gazes at you in amusement. A mischievous glint sparkled in his orbs, one that you matched with a subtle glare.

"I was going to save this for Christmas, but you're so stubborn and insistent," reaching back, he pulled out a tiny, blue velvet box, hands working it open to reveal a ring, its brilliant, prismatic colors beaming against your shocked face as it caught the bright lights overhead, "I take it you know what this is for, right? I've been thinking about this for a while now, really, and I wanted to wait for the perfect opportunity to ask you, will you marry me?" His face fell instantly as tears streamed down your face, his brows knitting in worry as you broke down and wrapped your arms around his throat, nearly cutting off his air supply and circulation as you nodded aggressively against the column of his neck, voice hoarse and weak from the onslaught of overwhelming emotions, "Oh, you're such a big baby. My big baby."

— kim hongjoong

The sound of spools and scissors clattering down onto the floor snapped you out of your train of thought.

"This is too hard," Hongjoong flops down onto the floor of the living room, a whine escaping his throat, "I give up. I can't make an ugly sweater!"

Numerous colors of thread, ribbons, felt, and pom-poms littered the floor. The sound of snipping pierced the silence, and you smiled as you finally cut out the shape of a snowman. "You're just too much of a perfectionist, baby," you smile as you reach down to fluff his hair, "It's not supposed to look good. That's the point."

"But I can't help it," he whined as he rolled over so that his head rests in your lap, "It needs to look good! Even if it is supposed to be ugly. It still should look decent."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you lean down to place a peck against the tip of his scrunched nose, "Relax, Joongie. Just have fun with it."

You munched on gingersnap biscuits as you amusedly watched him as he fringed the edge of a red ribbon for the cuffs of his sweater. His brows furrowed in concentration as he added more stitches and pieces of fabric scraps onto the emerald-green article of clothing. An hour passed and you grew tired, hands trembling while readjusting the thread on the spool. Hongjoong was still going at it, stubborn hands picking and taking away at decorations he had already added onto his sweater.

"Stop, it looks great like that," you nudged him playfully, a yawn escaping your mouth as you leaned your head against his side, "Hurry up and finish, Joong. I'm sleepy."

He contemplates momentarily, hesitant hands outstretched over his sweater on the floor. Dropping his hands in his lap, he glanced at you for a split second, hands reaching to brush the hair out of your face as your head nodded with drowsiness, "Alright. I'll take your word for it, baby. Now let's get you into bed before you sleep on the floor again."

— jeong yunho

"Come on! The last store is closing in thirty minutes!"

The snow crunched beneath your boots as you pulled along your best friend through the numerous window shops. Lilac and blue shadows danced along the snow-covered sidewalk as shoppers briskly walked about in droves to shop for holiday gifts. Twinkling lights hung along eaves of the buildings, lampposts, as well as the bare trees in town. A variety of holiday songs can be heard throughout every turn, each shop displaying sparkling wreaths and flashing lights to beckon customers in.

Giant candy canes flanked the streets, leading to a monstrous sized evergreen tree in the center of town. Yunho's cheeks and nose flushed red from the cold, and despite trembling in his boots from the onslaught of sharp flurries beating against his face, he takes one look at your beaming expression and is instantly filled with a strange warmth that not even a crackling fireplace can provide.

He'll admit, maybe today wasn't the best day to get dragged by his best friend to go window shopping for all your mutual friends, but his soft spot for you prevented him from disagreeing. While you rambled on and on about how it would be cute to buy Jongho a muscly teddy bear and Mingi a sparkly crown, his mind drifted to when you stopped at a particular store and suddenly ceased your talking to gaze open-mouthed at a large snow globe filled with iridescent glitter, sparkling snowmen, and penguins. The afternoon sky was flecked with shining amber and pink clouds that illuminated your sparkly eyes, and the smell of cinnamon tea and roasting chestnuts filled the town's air.

He smiled to himself, already mentally preparing the gift wrap color and ribbon. Hopefully, this year his wrapping skills will improve. Maybe he'll just let Seonghwa help him out.

"Yunho, are you even paying attention to me!?"

— kang yeosang

You woke up to an unusually bright light, brows furrowing and eyes scrunching shut. Peeking your head over your lover's sleeping frame you noted the piles of snow gathering against the window you decorated with silly, little window clings last night. Frost stretched into arabesque patterns on the glass window panes, the crystals glistening gold in the morning sunlight.

The second your foot grazed the icy tiles of your bedroom, you opted to remain in bed and steal some of Yeosang's body heat. Lifting his limp arm, you tucked yourself into his hold, face buried against his chest. The shift in movement stirred him from his slumber, and he sat up bleary-eyed and confused.

Peering down at your frame silently, he settled back against the bed, tugging you closer and placing multiple pecks onto the crown of your head. Mornings like these were your favorite. You loved to cling onto your lover like second skin as the two of you slept soundlessly. He was always so, so warm and soft, and his embrace always felt like home.

The extra hours of sleep felt like mere minutes, and by the time you peeled your eyes open for the second time, Yeosang was no longer in the center of the bed spooning you. Sitting up with a deep inhale, you grimaced at the glistening snow outside, the icy wind howling and sending tuffs of ice scattering about. The sound of padded footsteps caught your attention, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the scent of cocoa.

Yeosang stood in the doorway with an unamused expression, two steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand and chocolate stains on his beige, fleece sweater, "Oh good, you're awake. You slept like a rock while I nearly set the kitchen on fire."

"What did you do.." you mumbled, fists reaching up to rub at your eyes, "Should I even ask?"

You're suddenly aware of the faint smell of something burnt in the air and the thin haze of smoke lingering throughout your apartment.

"Don't worry," he mused as he handed you the red mug of hot chocolate, your eyes instantly drawn to the dollop of cream and marshmallows floating on the surface. He settled onto the bed beside you, leaning in to give you a chocolate-stained kiss, "We needed a new microwave anyway."

— choi san

"See, your shower wasn't that bad," you cooed gently as you swaddled your boyfriend's cat, Byeol, in a fluffy blanket, carrying her out to the living room. You bumped into a hard chest, Byeol instantly taking the opportunity to dive out of your arms to scurry away. Snapping your head up, you were met with a smirking, cardigan-clad San who leaned against the doorframe.

You dropped your gaze to the dangling mistletoe in his hands, scoffing playfully at the sight. Throughout your entire apartment, mistletoes hung from every doorframe and corner with San's stubborn insistence. Leaning forward, you cupped his dimpled cheeks bringing him in closer to slot your lips against his own in a chaste kiss.

"I told you, you don't need a mistletoe to ask me for a kiss," you murmured against his mouth as he placed numerous pecks onto your glossed lips. Pulling you taut against his chest, he burrows his head into the crook of your neck, and you feel his lips twitch up into a knowing smile.

"But I've been getting more kisses thanks to all the mistletoes," he laughed against your skin, arms coiling tightly around your frame, his hands fondling your rear, "Even more than Byeol. So, I think I might just keep them hung up even after-"

The sound of glass shattering startled him, his frame jolting up instantly, eyes wide as saucers.

"That better not be my new snow globe."

Peeling himself from your hold, San scrambled to the bedroom, the sounds of his cries reverberating throughout the apartment. Reaching down to pick up the forgotten mistletoe, you laugh as he scolded Byeol, who in return dashed out of the room without a care in the world.

San stood in the doorway with a broken snow globe in hand, a pout eminent on his features, "I'm giving Byeol coal for Christmas," he spat angrily as you walked over to him, eyes rolling and hands working on unbuttoning the cardigan he had on to continue what he had previously started, "I knew she should've been on Santa's naughty list."

He suddenly ceases his rant, peering at you with a questioning gaze.

You raised your arm high in the air, and the mass of green dangled in front of San's curious face. His eyes flickered from the mistletoe to your face repeatedly, before his crestfallen expression morphs into one of mischief, "And you are most definitely on San's naughty list."

— song mingi

Mingi lets out a loud shriek as the roof of his gingerbread house topples over into a mess of frosting and gummy treats. Peeking over from your side of the table, you nearly laugh at the sight of him apologizing to the fallen gummy bears smeared with excess frosting, "Ming-Ming, try adding more frosting! It'll help."

"This is a lot harder than it looks!" he complained as he delicately squeezed a line of vanilla icing onto the edges of the cookie, "I nearly killed the gummy bear family. My hands are just too big and clumsy-"

He squeezed his eyes shut as he once again placed the remaining piece of gingerbread cookie onto the house, one eye peeking open to stare in awe at the stabilized cookie house. His eyes glimmered with joy, mouth stretching wide into a contagious grin as he silently points at his creation in fear that his voice will send it crashing down for a second time that night.

Mingi's gingerbread house was cute, you'll give him that. Smears of frosting stained the sides and the roof, and excess frosting dripped from the seams connecting all the pieces together. His hands scrambled to pick out the first of his decorations.

"Let's see," he hummed in satisfaction, "Baby, help me out. Peppermint candies or gum drops for the wreath on the door?"

"I don't think your gummy bear family will approve of their kind being used as a wreath," you giggled, your sock-clad feet intertwining between his legs underneath the table as you reached into the bowl of treats to plop a few in your mouth, "Pass me the red icing, please."

"You're absolutely right," he says in a matter of factly, eyes wide and curious as he squeezes dollops of icing onto the sides of the gingerbread house, "The gum drops will be the flowers around the house. Y'know, just like Spongebob's house?"

When he wasn't met with a reply, he peers up curiously, mouth dropping instantly with a loud gasp, "No! Stop! Don't eat the gingerbread men! I need those!"

— jung wooyoung

Crouching down, you admired the way the frost glistened in the sunlight, your fingers reaching forward to trace the arabesque patterns on the tree trunks and leaves. A flying mass of white flung over your head and onto the tree bark, another hitting you square on your bum. A high-pitched scream rung out almost immediately from your throat, your frame stumbling onto the snow littered ground.

You whipped your head back at the source of laughter from behind you, and your eyes instantly squint in aggravation at the cackling male behind you. Wisps of ebony locks peek out from his red beanie, framing his amused face and cheeky grin. He trudged towards the snowmen you two built ( the same one with the goofy, crooked smile he insisted looked like you ) and struck a pose on one leg, arms stretched high to form a heart as he winked at you, his long, lilac shadow stretching onto the expanse of soft snow.

"Baby, haven't I taught you to never turn your back on your enem-" He startled as a tiny golf-sized snowball slammed and crumbled onto his nose. Brushing off the snow and clenching his jaw, he then released a huff through his nose and whined, boot-clad feet stomping into the snow, "Ah! I was being cute for you! Don't ruin my moment!"

His nose grew considerably more flushed from the impact of snow, and he drew back, threatened, when you stomped your way towards him, a sheepish smile finding its way onto his features. Attempting to assert dominance, he cleared his throat, eyes smoldering as he leaned in close towards your face with a faint smirk, "It's okay to be a sore loser, you know?" Reaching down, he pats your bum free of the remaining snow, snickering to himself when you slap his hands away, before releasing a loud cry of surprise when you push him back to land on the smaller of the two snowmen.

"No!" he whined instantly, "Baby! You made me crush your twin." He scrambled up to assess the damage as you cackled beside him, his eyes practically slits as he pulled you in by your scarf, "That's what you're going to look like too, after I'm done with you."

— choi jongho

This year, your boyfriend disagreed to all your attempts to buy a faux tree for your living room, and instead flaunted his strength as he single-handedly chopped one down and dragged it to his car. The pungent smell of cedar was overwhelming in your tiny apartment, but you thought it was well worth the trip to see Jongho so proud and satisfied with himself for doing all the hard work with no aid.

He carefully stood on a stool as he wrapped golden tinsel around the tree, his brows furrowed on concentration, "Tell me if it's crooked, baby," he crouched down as he reached the end, hand outstretched in a silent gesture for the scissors. You placed the box of hand painted ornaments and ribbons down, hands reaching in to grab at a few, only to be stopped by Jongho, "No, no. It's okay, I can do it. Don't worry, love."

"But I want to-"

"Ssh," he places a finger to your pouting lips and stops your futile attempt to persuade him, "Let Macho Jongho do all of the work, princess."

Crossing your arms with a roll of your eyes, you watched him tie multiple bows of ribbon along the edges of the tree. Jongho always regarded you like delicate glass, never allowing you to do any tiresome work if he was around. In the beginning, it was quite endearing, but moments like these you wanted to pull on his ear and demand him to accept your help. Besides, decorating the Christmas tree was the highlight of the entire holiday.

A muffled cuss caught your attention, and you perked your head up to gaze at the frustrated male across the room. You watched as he struggled with the fairy lights, the thin metal coiling around his arms and fingers, "Babe," he called out in defeat, "I need help."

"I thought you'd never ask."

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #368

“whatever doesn’t kill you, is gonna leave a scar”

Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? My favorite shirt is the Day of the Dead design by Cloak, which is Markiplier's and jacksepticeye's clothing brand. Mom's friend/former co-worker also got me a Ninja Sex Party shirt because she knew I liked them. There are SO MANY YouTubers I wanna support by buying shirts. Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? Milk, 110%. Have you ever left a note in a library book? No. What time of day do you prefer to wash your hair? Morning. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yes. Have you ever taken a photograph with a celebrity? If so, did it turn out the way you wanted, or do you wish you could retake it? No. If you could move out of your home country permanently, would you? If so, where would you go? If it didn't mean being so very far from my family, I would love to move to Canada. Is there a celebrity that everyone else seems to love, but you find totally overrated? Why is it that you don’t like them? I legit don't know who's considered currently popular, and I especially don't know who they are as people. If you could volunteer for any charity, which one would you choose? Do you think it’s more important to help humans, or are animal and environmental charities equally important? Something relating to animals, and I think they're both equally important. Do you prefer holidays where you relax, or actually do things? I like a mix. Something chill, but you still do some stuff as a family. Do you think that after we die our spirit is still alive? Yes. Has anybody ever told you that you could be a model? Someone has mistaken me for a model in a picture I once took. It was one of the most flattering things I've ever heard, haha. Do you use different kinds of moisturizer for different body parts? ie. hand lotion for your hands, face cream for your face. Or do you just use one moisturizer for all body parts? Yes. Have you ever felt like you were someone’s rebound? No. Has anybody ever broken up with you over something really pathetic? What was it? Have you ever been dumped in a disrespectful way? (eg. through text, through a friend..) I have 100% been dumped in a very cowardly and disrespectful way; after dating Jason for nearly four years and being very serious, he broke up with me very abruptly over Facebook Messenger. His reason was valid, but at the same time, he NEVER talked to me about it. Apparently my depression was dragging him down. If he'd fucking communicated it, I would have explored new treatment options so goddamn fast. But no, he decided to snap his fingers and disappear. That's exactly WHY it was so traumatic, I think: it was so unexpected and sudden. Did you have a lot of role models as a kid? Animal enthusiasts like Steve Irwin and Jeff Corwin for sure. Do you feel like anyone looks up to you? Why or why not? God no. I'm just... not someone to aspire to be like. What was the last thing you found offensive? I'm not sure. Who is the nicest person you know? My mom. Do you feel safe in your country? I feel safe in NC, rather. Like I don't expect an atom bomb or terrorist attack or something in this obscure area. In the U.S.A. itself, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. America is definitely not loved by every other country. Do you feel safe where you live? Not in this city, no. Have you been falsely diagnosed with something by a bad doctor? Yup. Did y'all know I apparently have ADHD? I know, shocking. Have you ever had a doctor refuse to treat you? No. Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): The first Silent Hill, probably. It took a lot of reading to get it. Do you know anyone who has been struck by lightning before? No. Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Does Stitch count? Or a Pokemon. Do you like marshmallows? Yes. What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? I really like the Jolly Rancher candy canes, I think they are? Have you ever fostered an animal? No. Do you still take hot showers when it’s hot out? Not as hot, but not cold except on very extreme occasions. When writing $ sign, do you draw one line through the S or two? Two. What animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? I'm thankful that my parents were pretty open-minded to what pets I really wanted, but one I was never allowed to have was a ferret because of how messy and smelly they are. List three people you’ve had crushes on: Jason, Sara, and Sebastian were probably my biggest crushes. Have you ever thrown up from cramps? No, but god have I felt close. List three people you had a hard time forgiving. Jason, Colleen, and my dad. Who is the most spiritual person you know? Probably my sister's mother-in-law. Would you ever start a vlog? God no, I'd bore people to tears. Are your dreams coming true yet? I mean, I guess in some ways with my mental health. In my deepest depression, what I have now was a dream, even though current me is very discontent with it. Most of my dreams, though? No. Do you struggle with depression? I've been diagnosed with severe depression since 7th grade. Are you haunted by your past? A few things won't leave me alone. What medical conditions do you have? Just a lot. There are even more that are up for debate. I've talked about my diagnosed conditions enough. Do you use a Magic Bullet? No. What does your apron look like? I don’t have one. What are your favorite spicy foods? Hot Cheetos, Takis, hot wings, jalapeno pizza... Man, I love spicy food. Which do you like better: being an adult or being a kid? Being a kid. Were you excited to be a teenager on your thirteenth birthday? I had very mixed feelings. Did you feel insecure in high school? Shit, I still do. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? What the FUCK is this question? No fucking shit I would be. Someone being suicidal in no way affects who they are as a person. Who was the biggest bully in high school? I don't think there really was one. What was your favorite class in high school? Art. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? If I wanted kids, a daughter. Have you ever written to an advice columnist? No. Have you ever had a doctor not believe what you told him? Maybe? I did however have an employee at the ER the first time I went try to pry out of me that my self-mutilation was for attention, and it wasn't until I insisted about a dozen times that it wasn't that he believed me. It's odd looking back that I got REALLY attached to him during that stay, knowing now that it was absolutely horrible and extremely unhelpful for him to do that. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? I would absolutely refuse to have a male one. Do you like Lisa Frank? Yeah, like can you talk about aesthetic. What gives you nightmares? Boy, I wish I could tell you, given how much I have them. Were you ever hospitalized as a child? No. Did you get senior pictures taken? No. What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one. Did you ever have to take home a fake baby in health class? No, thank fuck. Would you rather wear ivory or white on your wedding day? What color will your bridesmaids wear? I'd rather wear black. I think red will be the bridesmaids' color. Would you rather have a swimming pool or trampoline? I want a swimming pool so damn badly so I could exercise my legs without worrying about sweating, and I can stop and rest whenever I want, unlike going walking or something. I don't think my knees could handle a trampoline. Do you think babies are cute? Some, sure. But a lot, not really. Do you dream about the future a lot? Yeah. Do you think about your past a lot? Way too frequently. How good are you at living in the moment? I'm trying to get better at it. Have you ever questioned God’s existence? Yeah. Vanilla frosting or chocolate? Chocolate. What’s your favorite foreign cuisine? I've actually been exploring Italian pasta lately. I'm not a big fan of foreign food that I've tried, though. Have you ever moved to another state? No. Did you do anything productive today? No. .-. Can you say the alphabet backwards? No, actually. Do you like flowers? Of course; does anyone not? Have you ever thought you were gonna die? I didn't care if I did or didn't. What kind of mood are you in today? I was honestly really depressed through most of it. Just health stuff was really getting to me. I just woke up from what was honestly like a four-hour nap and I feel all right, I guess. What are you craving right now? I REALLY want Domino's jalapeno pizza. Is there anyone you would seriously punch right now if you had the chance? No. What is worse, physical or emotional pain? Definitely emotional. Have you ever walked in on somebody doing something… questionable? When Dad still lived with us, I think he might have been watching... you know... on TV when I came into my parents' room for something. Idk for sure though. I didn't ask, and I don't want to know. If you were to make videos on YouTube, what would they be of? Oh god, idk. I don't want to make any. What I'd have most fun with would be reptile education, but I 1.) have literally one snake, 2.) am not extremely educated on a good number of them and don't want to be misleading, and 3.) I would run outta content fast. So, leave it to Snake Discovery, haha. Posting pictures of yourself in a bathing suit on the internet - ok or not? Yes, it's okay????? If you're talking about me personally though, you won't see me dead in a bathing suit picture. Do you typically laugh when somebody falls down? No, I gasp and see if they're okay. What is the most disturbing movie you’ve ever watched? Paranormal Entity. The ending is... a lot. Your opinion of Katy Perry, please? I like a couple of her songs. If you could say anything to your Mom right now… what would it be? "Thank you for absolutely everything."

[austarus]

Barry Allen x Reader The Nutcracker AU

Major Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Flash or The Nutcracker and The Mouse King. I only changed a few things to fit the style of the alternate universe. This is my first time writing about an alternate universe that involves something as spectacular as the Nutcracker so hopefully it doesn’t suck.

Requested by Anon: Hi there! Is it possible you could write a Barry ALLEN imagine (The Nutcracker AU)?

Cast:

v  Caitlin Snow –> Narrator 1

v  Cisco Ramon –> Narrator 2

v  Harry Wells –> Narrator 3

v  Ralph Dibney –> Narrator 4

v  Little Iris West –> Clara

v  Little Wally West –> Fritz

v  Joe West –> Dad

v  Francine West –> Mom

v  Godfather

v  Prince Barry –> The Nutcracker

v  Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N) –> Sugarplum Fairy

v  King Eobard –> The Mouse King

~The West Living Room~

Caitlin (Narrator 1):  It was Christmas evening.  Outside, the world was cold and covered in sparkling frost, but inside the home of the West family everything was warm and bright as they prepared for Christmas day.

(The West family decorates the room for Christmas as Deck the Halls plays softly in the background)

Francine:  Well done everyone, the house looks wonderful.

Joe:  Now all we need is for your Godfather to join the party.

Cisco (Narrator 2):  Just at that moment, there was a knock on the door.  

(knock)

Cisco (Narrator 2):  The children ran up to see who it could be and sure enough, there was the cheerful smile of the children’s Godfather.

(The Children’s Godfather appears on stage with a sack full of presents.  

Iris and Wally run to greet him.)

Godfather:  Dear me children, let me in or we shall all freeze on the doorstep!

Iris:  Oh Godfather I’m so happy to see you!

Wally:  Have you brought us some presents?!

Francine:  Now Wally don’t be rude.  Besides, you will need to wait for the morning before you open any presents.

Godfather:  Of course, I have something for you Wally, and for you Iris.  Come, we had better put all the presents underneath the Christmas tree.

(O Christmas Tree plays on the radio as the family put presents beneath the tree)

Harry (Narrator 3):  Before long, all the presents were stacked in a colorful heap beneath the Christmas tree and the family were getting ready for bed.

Joe:  Come along now, it’s time for bed.  The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner it will be Christmas morning.

(Exit Iris, Wally, Francine, Joe, and Godfather.  Lights fade to a dim blue color)

Harry (Narrator 3):  But Iris found that she could not sleep, she was too excited about the present that her Godfather had brought for her.  She crept into the living room for another look.

(Iris creeps across the living room to the tree and opens her present, taking out a nutcracker doll.)

Iris:  What a sweet little nutcracker doll!  He’s dressed so smartly!  Oh, I love him!

Ralph (Narrator 4):  Iris hugged the nutcracker tightly and then curled up under the Christmas tree and fell asleep to the music of carol singers in the street.

(During the first verse of Silent Night Iris wanders around, rocking the nutcracker doll, then curls up under the tree with the nutcracker hidden)

Ralph (Narrator 4):  Suddenly, the clock struck twelve and Iris woke to find her nutcracker had turned into a prince!

(Chimes ring from the grandfather clock as Prince Barry kneels next to Iris and gently wakes her)

Prince Barry:  Thank you Iris, your kindness has freed me from King Eobard’s evil spell.  He will be angry, but don’t worry, my soldiers will protect you.

(Enter the toy soldiers, standing in formation on Prince Barry’s side)

Caitlin (Narrator 1):  Just then, they heard many shuffling feet.  The armies of King Eobard were on their way!

(The army of mice enters from the back of the stage and they stand facing the toy soldiers on the opposite side)

Make way for King Eobard

Cisco (Narrator 2):  The army of mice stood and faced the army of toy soldiers.  Then, King Eobard pushed his way to the front with an angry cry.

(King Eobard pushes his way through the army)

King Eobard:  This girl has broken my spell and robbed me of my revenge!  Now as punishment I shall kill Prince Barry and take this little meddler back to our lair.

(Prince Barry stands in front of Iris and draws his sword)

Prince Barry:  While there is breath in my body you shall not touch her!

King Eobard:  We will see about that!

(King Eobard draws his sword and they circle and begin to fight)

(The soldiers and the mice leap, shake fists, and throw cheese at each other while King Eobard and Prince Barry fight.  When it looks like King Eobard has the advantage, Iris stuns him with her slipper and the mice scatter, taking the King with them. At the end of the fight the soldiers exit, and Prince Barry goes over to Iris)

Prince Barry:  Thank you Iris, you have saved me again.

Iris:  Oh, Prince Barry, I couldn’t let him hurt you!

Prince Barry:  I don’t know how I can ever repay you… perhaps you would like to visit my kingdom for a little while?

Iris:  Oh, yes please!

Harry (Narrator 3):  Prince Barry took Iris’ hand and they went out into the night, through the falling snow

(The lighting changes to a lighter blue and as Iris and Prince Barry walk off)

~The Kingdom of Sweets~

(Enter Iris and Prince Barry.  Sugarplum fairy (Y/N) ready to run onstage)

Ralph (Narrator 4):  When they arrived in the Kingdom of Sweets, Iris couldn’t believe her eyes.  There were lollipop trees and marshmallow flowers, sweetly glazed mountains topped with whipped cream, and buttercream frosting everywhere.  As Prince Barry led Iris towards a huge marzipan castle, a beautiful lady ran to meet them.

Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N):  Oh!  Prince Barry!  I thought I would never see you again!  How did you ever escape?  And who is this?

Caitlin (Narrator 1):  Prince Barry explained everything that had happened since he had been turned into a Nutcracker by King Eobard.

Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N):  How extraordinary!  Please forgive my manners, I haven’t introduced myself.  I am Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N).  I am so grateful to you for returning Prince Barry to me.   Come, we must have a celebration!

(Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N) leads Iris and Prince Barry to one side and then beckons the Snowflake dancers on stage)

Cisco (Narrator 2): Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N) called together people from all over the Kingdom to come and celebrate the return of Prince Barry.

Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N):  Come and sit here, Iris.  The citizens of our Kingdom of Sweets will perform their dances for you, to show our gratitude.  

Harry (Narrator 3):  The swirling colors and beautiful music lulled Iris until she could hardly keep her eyes open.  As Prince Barry took to the floor with Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N) she finally fell into a peaceful slumber.

(The Nutcracker Prince and the Sugarplum Fairy dance as Iris falls asleep in the corner and as everything fades back to the West living room.  Iris is now under the Christmas tree)

~West living room~

Ralph (Narrator 4):  When Iris woke that morning, she was underneath the Christmas tree once more.

(Iris wakes up and stretches then looks around her)

Iris:  What a strange dream… but where has my nutcracker gone?

Caitlin (Narrator 1):  Try as she might, Iris couldn’t find the nutcracker doll anywhere.

(Iris walks around looking for her nutcracker doll as her Godfather watches her search from a far)

Iris:  Oh, of course, he was with Sugarplum Fairy (Y/N) in the Kingdom of Sweets.  Perhaps it wasn’t a dream after all.

Godfather:  Good morning Iris.  Looking for something?

Iris:  Oh, Godfather… I’m sorry, I…

Godfather:  I know. You won’t find him now.  He’s back where he belongs.  Are you sad that you won’t have a present to open today?

Iris:  No, I’m glad I could help him.  I’d rather know that he is alright than have a whole mountain of presents.

(Wally, Joe, and Francine enter the living room)

Francine:       Oh, I see you’re up already.

Wally:             Merry Christmas everyone!