a 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 on the hand...

Get to know me uncomfortably well.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

“Three, exactly.  I like to feel that my head is cradled in a very specific way.”

41. Are you a good liar?

“Why?  What have you heard?”

51. Are you scared of spiders?

“Why wouldn’t I be?  They’re teeny and creepy-crawly and hairy and bite you and lay their eggs in things when you’re not looking, and just...eeuugh!”

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

“No, but I would be excited to try it!  As long as the water isn’t too deep and I can get a hot stone massage on land, of course.”

Get to know me uncomfortably well.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

“Skipping right to the juicy stuff, I see!  Well, you should know that I have very high standards, and that ideal does mean ideal.  I want a man who’s chivalrous.  Kind.  Charming.  Great sense of humor - that is a must.  Great with kids - that’s a bonus.  I want a man who speaks up because he cares.  Who looks out for me, but ultimately knows that I’m capable of looking after myself.  But more than anything, I want a man who, when he looks at me...makes me feel absolutely sensational.”

Get to know me uncomfortably well.

12. What was your last dream about?

“My last dream?  Let’s see...I think I was a mermaid and this team of submarine explorers took me away to study me and they kept asking me questions.  For some reason they were trying to figure out what music I liked..but eventually my shark friend tore through the wall in the submarine and we tried to run away.  That’s about all I remember.”

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

“You’re kidding, right?  What do you think I’m trying to do right now?”

45. What is your favorite accent?

“There is nothing more beautiful than a French accent.  It sounds so musical and sophisticated.”

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

“I find the fact that you’re asking this honestly offensive.  What, that I look like this on a daily basis, you think I didn’t pay attention in school?”  (She can get really darn close - gets confused around the midwest.)

98. Do you have any scars?

“I have a teeny one on my ankle, but it’s so faded and with the right shoes, you can’t even tell it’s there.”

Nala needed a distraction. It could have been anything, really - a party, a club … even some weirdo Magic the Gathering competition at the comic book store. She would be there and she would be excited to be there - that was how much she needed to get out of her own head. The problem was, however, that Nala hadn’t really solidified any friendships since arriving to Elias - too far wrapped up in drama with Simba to focus on much else. Even her conversations with Kiara seemed to almost exclusively be about him. Needless to say, she was desperate for any type of human interaction that wasn’t defined by her past. So much so that she was willing to sit down and talk to the nearest stranger.

And she did.

“Hey,” she said, smiling weakly at the person across from her. “Listen, I know this is totally weird but - what’s going on tonight? Anything good?”

Penelope smiled - albeit a little surprised - when Nala sat down.  She liked the girl, she really did.  Always upfront but still polite.  She didn’t know of any wild parties or concerts or anything traditionally exhilarating but...

“Well, I was going to start on this article for work...but then I found out they’re screening First Contact at the movie theater this weekend, so - oh, would you look at that!  I have no other responsibilities.  Guess I’m going tonight!”  She giggled to herself, miming empty hands.  “You can tag along, if you like!  The more, the merrier!”

1. What is you middle name?

2. How old are you?

3. What is your birthday?

4. What is your zodiac sign?

5. What is your favorite color?

6. What's your lucky number?

7. Do you have any pets?

8. Where are you from?

9. How tall are you?

10. What shoe size are you?

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

12. What was your last dream about?

13. What talents do you have?

14. Are you psychic in any way?

15. Favorite song?

16. Favorite movie?

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

18. Do you want children?

19. Do you want a church wedding?

20. Are you religious?

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

24. Baths or showers?

25. What color socks are you wearing?

26. Have you ever been famous?

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

28. What type of music do you like?

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

32. How big is your house?

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

35. Have you ever tried archery?

36. Favorite clean word?

37. Favorite swear word?

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

39. Do you have any scars?

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

41. Are you a good liar?

42. Are you a good judge of character?

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

44. Do you have a strong accent?

45. What is your favorite accent?

46. What is your personality type?

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

48. Can you curl your tongue?

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

50. Left or right handed?

51. Are you scared of spiders?

52. Favorite food?

53. Favorite foreign food?

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

55. Most used phrased?

56. Most used word?

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

58. Do you have much of an ego?

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

60. Do you talk to yourself?

61. Do you sing to yourself?

62. Are you a good singer?

63. Biggest Fear?

64. Are you a gossip?

65. Best dramatic movie you've seen?

66. Do you like long or short hair?

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

68. Favorite school subject?

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

71. What makes you nervous?

72. Are you scared of the dark?

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

74. Are you ticklish?

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

77. Have you ever drank underage?

78. Have you ever done drugs?

79. Who was your first real crush?

80. How many piercings do you have?

81. Can you roll your Rs?"

82. How fast can you type?

83. How fast can you run?

84. What color is your hair?

85. What color is your eyes?

86. What are you allergic to?

87. Do you keep a journal?

88. What do your parents do?

89. Do you like your age?

90. What makes you angry?

91. Do you like your own name?

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

94. What are you strengths?

95. What are your weaknesses?

96. How did you get your name?

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

98. Do you have any scars?

99. Color of your bedspread?

The night had not gone his way. In fact the club had been so dead, it would have saved money staying closed for the night. In Los Angeles that was bad. So after his drive back to Elias he decided, against his better judgement, to grab a drink before he’d go home for the night. The bar was slow, so the bar is where he sat. “One whiskey please.”

Maybe it should have worried Penelope that this was becoming a semi-regular thing.  Dressing up to accentuate her curves, going out to a bar or club, and waiting for strangers to flirt with her only to turn them down by the end of the night.  Sometimes she just wanted attention.  A bit of...particular attention.  Attention she couldn’t get from her friends.  But she never actually gained anything from it except a bit of an ego stroke - like random Instagram comments - so what was the harm?

She was actually preparing to head back home - the bar was growing quieter and there was nothing new to scroll through on her phone.  That’s when she heard his voice.  It shot a bolt of electricity down her chest, making her whole body go cold, then hot.  Automatically, her head turned up, and the sight of him - so beautiful and downhearted and familiar - it nearly tore her in half.  She had nearly lost sense of how long it had been since they saw each other.

“Hi, Kadie,” she hummed, uncharacteristically quiet.

Josh was never one for parties. He had always been a wallflower growing up. Putting himself out in social situations was something he avoided at all costs since he could remember. The only time Josh would ever go out was for his siblings. While his siblings were grown up and very capable of taking care of themselves, Josh couldn’t help but be here to keep an eye on them. He took his role as an older brother very seriously. That, and of course to have a night out with Dante. The McQueens were hosting after all so there came some perks with dating one of the party hosts. 

“Yeah, I do actually. I just thought they turned the airconditioning on to compensate for all the bodies in here.” he replied, feeling relaxed to see a familiar face with Norma. “Great costume. I love the cape.” 

“Ah, that makes sense,” Norma shrugged, “even though it’s cold enough outside as it is.”  Though it was exactly what she asked, it didn’t exactly quell that little itch between her shoulder blades.

Her eyes lit up, though, when he complimented her costume.  “Aww, thank you!  I’m always scared the cute costumes are going out of style.”  She gave her shoulders a little shimmy to let the cape twirl around her again.  “If you see any other Wizard of Oz-esque costumes around tonight, let me know.  I’m dying for some cute pictures.”

–

“Blondes, brunettes, it’s not about a hair color, it’s about a vibe.” He muses easily, putting the record back, “she always had this… cool, aloof thing about her… in her live performances it was just this cool air, like she didn’t give a damn about who was looking at her.” 

His shoulders slumping only slightly at her dismissal, he shrugs, “That’s actually pretty cool.” he says, “I mean, maybe we ‘literally just met’, but I think I can see star potential in someone. Plus, you keep blowing me off, like you’re too cool for record stores, but you obviously have some passion for music, seeing you’re here and all. So I’d say that band is lucky to have you.”

Maybe he was being a little strong, but he didn’t think someone should doubt their own talents just because they weren’t Debbie Harry. Hell, they only made one of her. “You know, if you’re interested… try some Heart. Sisters, one played the guitar… pretty badass.”

Cool.  Aloof.  Didn’t give a damn.  Kathleen definitely wanted that.  But she also definitely gave a damn.  She gave so much of a damn it made her sick sometimes.

Needing something to do with her hands that didn’t involve squirming, she tucked her hair behind her ear - like a fucking schoolgirl.  What was wrong with her?  Did she really have all that, or was he just trying to butter her up?  Guys would say anything to get in a girl’s pants, she knew that.  But not all of them would work that hard to be so specific.  She opened her mouth to again try to shut him down, something nonchalant like “it’s a place to be,” but the attempt died before it started.  She couldn’t argue that.  In the grand scheme of things, she may not have been a genius when it came to music.  But she’d try, and she cared.  She wanted this weird little whatever-she-had-now to work.

“Shit,” she muttered, more a plain exclamation than a curse.  “Okay.  Fine.  Still doesn’t make you psychic or whatever.”  Her voice lacked the intended venom, and she suddenly wanted to put on a sweater.  Like something was too exposed, too open.

Slowly nodding, she vaguely poked a finger over her shoulder, further down the alphabet.  “You gonna...come make sure I get the best one?”

“Do you feel a draft in here?” she asked the person next to her while trying not to squirm.

“Hi, Pen.” Wally chuckled, wrapping their arms tightly around their friend. With their busy life and schedule it always felt impossible to make time for family and friends so when there was a moment of quiet an downtime, Wally made sure to see those they loved dearly. “I was trained well, of course. Please, I don’t mind the mess. I’m used to mess.” They smiled taking in all the pink fabric scattered about. “How are you, my dear? how are the kids? It feels like a century since i’ve seen you.” It was last month but that alone felt like forever to Wally. 

“Mm, you have been trained well,” Penelope snorted, already going for a lick of frosting.  She shoved a coat, a binder, and yet more fabric samples off a chair so Wally could sit down, then perched herself on top of her desk.  “Oh, you know me.  Busy and fabulous.  Wouldn’t have it any other way.

“The kids are...good?  I think?  Ugh, maybe I’m just doing that mom thing where it feels like nobody talks to me anymore.  Like, both my boys hate to rock the boat, so I’m constantly terrified I’m gonna turn around one day and just find them politely exploded.”  She did her little nervous laugh, quickly quelled with another dose of frosting.  Clearly it had been too long since they last got to chat.  “Are you ever afraid you’re not connecting with them like you should be?”

Sage squinted her eyes and pursed her lips as she listened to his words, trying not to come off too offended by the whole ordeal. Did he want more money? Did he think her money was dirty? In honesty it was, but surely he didn’t already know that– her group was very discreet. “Um I don’t understand?” she asked, with a forced laugh. “I am giving you money in exchange for your help– and you don’t want it?” she questioned, wondering if she was following this right. She held out the cash in her hand.  “Honestly I hate owing people so could you just take like half even– then give the rest to the Samaritans.. I need to finish this phone call and your pushback is unsettling.”

Francis hardly considered what he was doing pushback.  He managed another swallow, though his mouth was getting dry.  “I-It’s not that I don’t...appreciate it, I-I do.  You--You’re very generous.  But...it’s...it’s a lot of money...for a r-really small thing.  It doesn’t...it doesn’t feel right.”  

He was saying a lot of words to a complete stranger.  Wiping his palms against his legs, he tried not to think about the feeling of his pulse in his ears.  A small part of him wanted to just grab his bag and literally run away from the conversation.  But instead, that other part of him - the part that got a little too excited over the possibilities of the cash - decided to speak up again.

“I-I mean, if you really want to--to pay me that much...let me earn it.  I know...I know my way around a camera.  Y-You sound like a...businesswoman.  I’m sure there’s...w-we could work something out.”

When Frankie realized he was going to be at least ten minutes late to his composition class, he had decided to not show up all together. It was a nightmare, really - walking into class late, interrupting the lesson, having everyone stare at you as you scramble to find an empty seat … he decided he would much rather spend that time, studying for his biography exam in a quiet coffee shop. Once he got his drink - a vanilla chai - and settled down at a table, he noticed a wallet laying on the floor. Reaching over to grab it, he looked over at the person next to him. “Hey, uh … did you drop this?” 

Francis really needed a new backpack.  Correction: he needed a legitimate camera bag so he could stop shoving all of his equipment into his backpack, only for him to not close the zipper completely and accidentally let loose an avalanche when he held his mouth the wrong way.  Hunched over a corner table and trying not to make even more of a scene, he scrubbed his microfiber cloth over every delicate surface of his camcorder, trying to buff away any scratches.  At least none of his tapes came crashing out in the mess.  The thought of the film getting damaged made the back of his neck go cold.

The albeit soft voice made him jump a little bit, and he almost retreated further into his metaphorical turtle shell.  But luckily he noticed the guy offering out a bundle of familiar black material.

“Shoot.  Uh...wow.  Jeez.”  He took the wallet, opening and refolding it.  Hainline, Francis Pierre.  Yup.  His brain short-circuited more than usual with the stupidity of it all.  If he walked out of here without that...God, he didn’t even want to think about it.  “Uh, th-thanks.  Seriously.”

“I would love to see that — really, I’m sure we all would — but isn’t the whole movement about desexualizing women’s costumes? I saw a sexy taco on one of these aisles. A taco. They’ve gone too far. We don’t need sexier costumes, we need creative costumes. It’s ridiculous how many people walk around town wearing the same damn thing. You could lose someone at a costume party.”

He wasn’t as passionate as he was coming off. He’d just been in this store way too long and he was growing bored. “Like, look at this.” He gestured to the row. “They don’t even look realistic. You’re better off buying shit at a thrift store and throwing something together yourself.”

“A taco?  What?”  Paul’s gaze jerked over his shoulder, as if he just missed it.  Then his eyes screwed shut, face dropping into his open hand.  “Oh my God.  The-the layers of wrongness there.  Jesus.  Like, read the room, people.”

He couldn’t help but snort, though, at the display of plastic props Remus gestured to - specifically the fake severed fingers.  He picked one up by the knuckle and wiggled it around.  “Yeah, these guys look like gummy worms.  Tell me I’m wrong.”  Another wiggle closer to Remus’ face, accompanied by a silly little uugabuugawuuga sound.

Percy normally just ignored people in stores but this guy looked like he was going through something. He arched and eyebrow at the costume in front of him. “You know I’m not the one who designs costumes, right? I also didn’t invent sexism which evidently led to women being told they have to dress a certain way to please men.”

The guy was cute though so he smiled, “And like you could make your own sexy firefighter outfit. But if you’re sold on sumo wrestler, I’m pretty sure some cloth undies will get the point across!”

Paul held up his hands with a little chuckle.  “Just thinking out loud here.  All I’m saying is, if we’re telling women how to dress, we should at least know what they want from us in return.”  He pulled a face in spite of himself, trying not to think too hard about how that sentence could be taken out of context.

Another laugh, though this one somewhat cold, as he shoved the costume back on the hook.  “Nah nah nah.  I’m not going down that road again.  I went as Freddie Mercury like two years ago, only for some kind soul to politely remind me that he was Indian.”  He scratched at the nape of his neck.  “The whole week I wanted to hide in a hole and pull the hole in after me.”

Rosalie was walking around the store, her costume? She was going to ask her twin to make it. His designs were better than anything she would find in the store. So color her surprised when a inflatable sumo wrestler costume was shoved in her face. Laughing a bit she nodded, “You have a point but maybe the thrift store has an old firefighter outfit then just don’t wear a shirt?”

Paul cracked a smile, eyebrows raised.  “Point right back to ya.  I’m just saying our evil marketing overlords are missing a golden opportunity.  Some of us gross boys actually have decent taste in costumes, y’know?”

Saskia furrowed her brows together with a small smile on her lips. Saskia knew Paul vaguely thanks to her cousin Sav. She was completely aware of how ridiculous this man could be and frankly wasn’t phased by the weird gibberish leaving his lips. Some valid points were made. she’d give him that. “Truly, i’m so sorry that your costume selection is trash. Maybe it’s a sign that men don’t deserve rights even at Halloween.” she teased with a small smile. “For real, just make your own. While other guys look busted this spooky season you’ll hot in whatever profession or character you choose to sex up.”

Paul’s head lolled back with his usual lopsided smile.  One hand held up in surrender, the other returning the sumo costume back to the rack.  “I lost the energy to defend my truly garbage gender a long time ago.  And you’re seriously overestimating my crafting skills,” he said, squinting up to the light.  “Last time I picked up a pair of scissors...hoo, there was mighty dueling indeed.”