Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭
Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.
One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.
At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.
It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.
The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.
He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.
“My dream boy!”
Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.
Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.
That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.
Tall – check.
Dark hair – check.
Sweet – check, well to you at least.
Brings me flowers – check.
Calls me princess – not check.
Princess, huh? That was new.
He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.
A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.
--
Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.
He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.
“Baby?”
You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”
“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”
Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”
You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”
“You like them, honey?”
“I love them.”
Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”
Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.
“What are the giggles for?”
“Nothing…”
He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.
“Y/N?”
“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.
“To be called what?” he asked.
“Princess…”
“I know.” He smirked.
“What do you mean?”
“I read it in your diary.”
“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I found it through your old stuff.”
“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”
“I’m sorry!”
“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”
“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”
“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.
The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.
“What else did you read?”
“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”
“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.
“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.
“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”
“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”
“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”
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I’m nervous abt this cuz I almost NEVER put shit in ask boxes but HEAR ME OUT
Ken and Barbie reader where like it’s at the end of Stereotypical Barbie’s party right and all the Barbies are gathering for girls night. Ken is watching reader head into the dream house but she suddenly stops going “Oh! One sec!” To the rest of the Barbies before turning back around and trotting over to Ken and giving him a peck on the lips and just smiling and going “see you tomorrow boyfriend!” Before going into the dream house.
Just think of how he’d MELT. Just the fact that she took the time to say bye to HIM, the kiss, makes him just absolutely lose it inside. Oh i’m having so many thoughts and it’s all abt him.
see you tomorrow boyfriend!
Ken x Fem!Reader | Mentions: Kissing
Note: Ty for the ask Anon, I hope you enjoy it. I didn’t know if you wanted Hcs or a short fic. My ask box is open if anyone wants to send a request, if you want to send an Anonymous ask but be remembered you can refer to yourself as [emoji] Anon.
As the night descended upon the party, a kaleidoscope of colours enveloped the scene, with the disco ball above the dance floor cast sparkling beams of light across the room, bathing everything in a mesmerizing, ethereal glow.
Soft pink and magenta neon lights adorned the walls, creating an electric atmosphere that pulsed to the beat of the music. DJ Barbie, perched atop a platform, skillfully blended one danced track into the next, maintaining the party's energy at its peak.
A vivid pink glow took centre stage, the walls and ceiling became a canvas of moving shapes, hypnotic patterns, and pulsating hues, enticing the Kens and Barbies to shift into a choreographed number. Amongst the pink decor, guests wore outfits reminiscent of the 70s era, with sequins, flared pants, and platform shoes adding to the dazzling spectacle. They laughed and danced freely, caught in the magic of the night.
Eventually, as the sky painted itself a deep indigo, the last of the Kens left, waving goodbye to the Barbies, who stood outside the dream house in smoothly ironed pyjamas.
Glancing briefly into the distance you took notice of him, his striking blonde hair was tousled from the nights dancing and it fell across his face, highlighting his chiselled jawline. The open collar of his suit revealed a glimpse of his strong collarbones, and his broad chest was sun kissed from all his day’s pursuing his career as beach.
A small smile of adoration crept upon your lips at the sight of your boyfriend.
“Barbie?” Stereotypical Barbie’s voice pulled you out of your adoring trance, “Are you coming? It’s girls night!” You turned to look over your shoulder at Barbie, knowing that Ken was still standing there, looking at you through his tousled hair.
“Oh! One sec!” you called out as you turned around, racing over to where Ken stood. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered, trying to think of something to say as a tender smile slowly crept up on his face. As you approached him, his lips parted as if he were going to speak, but before he could muster anything coherent to say, you cupped his cheek with a tender touch and brought your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. He sighed against your lips, wrapping his toned arms around your waist and tracing small circles across the small of your back.
Gently pulling away, a small groan of protest left Ken’s lips. His grip around you tightened, and he buried his face in your chest in an attempt to make you stay. “Ken..” You tried pulling away from him gently, but he had melted into your touch, making it impossible to move without going down with him. “Barbie, stay, please..” He looked up at you through his lashes.
“It’s girls night, Ken. We’ll do something tomorrow. I promise.”
“But we’re girlfriend boyfriend.”
“I know, and I’ll see you tomorrow boyfriend. I promise.”
He drew back from your touch, his cheeks still flushed from the kiss. Once more, you leaned in towards him, gently pecking him on the forehead, before turning and running towards the dream house.
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OMG can you please write more Ken x reader, I absolutely love the one you did and I can barely find any fics for him 🖤😍
I’m glad you liked my first Ken fic and you’re absolutely about the lack of Ken fics/ Barbie fics in general. So I hope to help fill the gap…somewhat. ❤️🦦
Ken strikes me as the type to want to share anything and every thought he had with you.
For example;
Ken, running up to you: y/n! you won’t believe what I saw today!
You: what did you see Ken? A puppy?
Ken: better
You: a self taught puppy on a skateboard?
Ken: better
You: what could possibly be better then a self taught puppy on a skateboard?
Ken, beaming; getting to see you wake up every morning, looking perfect as always.
You: cheesy. Do it again.
Ken also seems like the type to melt when given affection. Talk to the wall if you disagree because I won’t hear otherwise on this.
So any time you reach for his hand, interlock your fingers, allowing the palms of your hands to being flushed against one another. Ken will crumple and will try to subtly tighten his hold on your hand but you knew, yet you were willing to faux ignorance towards because you enjoy the feeling of his warm hand against yours, as it’s a reminder that he’s there.
Ken will also uses every excuse in the book to keep your hand in his, not matter how impractical it maybe. He just likes holding your hand and isn’t afraid to openly grab it in public either, all the while with a beaming smile on his beautiful face. Ken is so pretty when he’s happy and you’d rather have him be happy and healthy in every aspect. Mentally, physically and emotionally.
You could be trying to do stuff in the house and you have one of Ken’s hand latching onto yours with his iron like grip, making it hard to complete tasks where your meant to have both hands available.
‘Ken…do you have to always hold my hand even if we’re inside the house?’ You’d ask.
‘I just don’t want to loose sight of you,’ he tells you, ‘and besides I just want an excuse to keep my hand intertwined with yours.’ He adds with a shrug as though he didn’t just admit to not liking being apart from you for long extended periods of time.
‘If that’s your answer then I don’t want to hear any complaining about sweaty palms.’ You teased as for the rest of the day, Ken’s hand in yours as if they were super glued.
Adding onto the fact that Ken likes being physically close to you. Ken is without a doubt a cuddle bug, a needy, somewhat clingy, cuddle bug as a matter of fact. He loves nothing more then to have you burrow yourself into his chest but he loves it even more when he’s the one burrowed into your chest/neck, depending on the position you assume.
Just the feeling of having you in his embrace or vice versa, has always brought him so much comfort and reassurance it’s actually insane. Yet if you were to ask him what was it about you that made him feel comfortable enough to fall asleep on you without a secondary thought and Ken’s response?
‘You keep me grounded when I don’t think I’m worth having, especially not with everything I’ve done recently.’ He began as he makes himself comfortable against you, his head resting on your chest and humming to himself in content as his eyelids began to close and a soft smile reached his pretty pink lips, all the while adding on; ‘you keep me safe as you swaddle me your warm embrace. But most of all, being with you as of this moment, has never felt like the most right thing I have ever felt in my entire life.’ He falls asleep thereafter, leaving you to process his words before following after him in dream land, where you would continue to keep him safe, warm and loved.
Cliche as it maybe but Ken would definitely have stargazing picnics on the beach with you as dates. Bonus if on one of the dates you forget to bring a jacket and Ken sees you be affected by the cold? He will pull out the chivalry card and give you his jacket no matter what.
He doesn’t care if he gets cold! As long as your warm and wearing his clothes he’s perfectly fine with a feeling a little bit nippy.
‘But Ken, won’t you get cold?’ You asked, pushing his jacket back towards him.
‘Me? Get cold? I can handle a bit of cold y/n.’ Ken tells you as he takes the jacket, only to drape it over your shoulders himself, where your immensely warmed up from his bodily heat. ‘Besides, it’s you whom I don’t want to catch a cold but even if you did, I’d get the opportunity to nurse you back to health!’ He says enthusiastically.
‘My hero.’ You cooed as you learn into his side, totally unaware of the goofy, dopey look upon his face that became into an smitten expression as he peered at you. ‘Yeah, your hero.’ Ken utters softly to himself as he walks you back to your shared home.
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Ordinary World-Ken x Reader (Barbie 2023)
Summary: You've always been a one of a kind Barbie, like different things from the other girls and many considering you a bit odd. Most Barbies are the same, many of them have their own Ken but the Ken you've had your eyes on has been dating your best friend for years. (I know the movie isn't out but I had this in mind and had to write it! Wouldn't in a million years believe I would fall in love with a Ken doll.)
(I have in mind to do a series on the Barbie movie once it is out with Ken and Reader. So, I decided to write a one shot that'll be based on the series I am planning, this could be a part of the series though some parts may change. I am dying to see this new Barbie and Ryan Gosling as Ken. I myself am a goth and imagined the reader the same,but you can imagine her as you'd like. Though for the official version I think they will be a goth since I would find it cute for opposites to attract, style wise, etc.)
The world is perfect. Endless days of going around making errands and endless nights parting and every Barbie and Ken gathering around to have a fun time. The sky is always the perfect shade of blue with few clouds decorating it, every Barbie has it's perfect job and perfect home.
The streets decorated with green trees, beautiful colored flowers, pastel colored homes, and the relaxing beach with it's pale pink sand.
Always thriving to make their name known and perfecting every single thing, every Barbie is perfect, from head to toe.
Every Barbie has a Ken. Every Ken has a Barbie to show their devotion and love. Well..almost every Barbie.
"Hi Barbie!"
"Hi Barbie!"
"Hi Barbie!"
I heard the countless of Barbies waving and greeting at each other. I sat in the patio at my friend's home, she had invited me over since she wanted to throw a big party at night and I was helping her decorate the place up and organize many chairs and tables with their snacks.
Many Ken's and Barbie's would be arriving. I was done sketching on my notebooks and placed it inside my bag and continued to fill up what was rest of the pool.
"How is everything going?" Barbie asked joining me in the backyard again.
"The pool is almost finished, just a few snacks are left, choose the perfect mixtape and the party will be perfect." I answered her.
I stood tall and noticed Barbie staring at me. "Great! Everything always goes perfect. How is your job going?"
Barbie questioned making me take a step back and shake my head. "I..I.. it's complicated."
"You got fired didn't you?"
I hung my head low and felt ashamed. "Hey hey don't get all upset on me. You were probably too good for the job anyways."
"I feel horrible, Barbie. You are the most perfect person I've met, you have countless of jobs and can do anything. You've offered me many jobs and I'm just not good at it. I'll never be good at anything." I answer defeated since apparently I am not good enough for this world.
Barbie placed her hand on my shoulder making me look into her blue eyes. "No. You are a good person, (Y/N). You are my friend and I did agree on helping you in whatever you needed..You're just special is all."
"I'm different.."
"Different is good! See? I even call you by the name you chose instead of Barbie." I pout and sighed heavily and nodded my head slowly.
"You're not a burden, (Y/N). You can be whatever you want to be. Remember that."
I smiled a bit and looked back at her. "Right..let's focus on the party instead."
"Great idea! Now I have the perfect song list for the party, many friends will come over-"
Barbie definitely living a dream life. I wish I could be like her.
I am a Barbie who looks, acts and thinks differently than the rest. I chose my own name, go by my own rules, what kind of Barbie does that?
Every Barbie has it's dream house, dream career..a Ken.
Unlike them I can barely fit in a specific job, I don't own a huge house like most of them do, don't have plenty of close friends and I don't have a Ken. A companion, a lover to spend my days with them and have fun.
Every Barbie had a Ken and then there is me…
I've heard what many people have said behind my back, I'm a weird person I know. I tend to look at the dark side of life sometimes and can be a bit straightforward which leaves some people taken back from me.
I normally don't dress all cute or bright colors like the rest of the girls. I feel like I don't belong here at times.
I sometimes stay late at night wondering if outside of our Barbie world, there's more, maybe s lot more different. I will say I am more on the dreamer kind, wishing to know about more knowledge outside of here.
I've collected these books that I found a long time ago. Books that seem that wasn't made or written by someone here. There's one that has always fascinated me, it's called The Wizard of Oz. Sometimes I feel the main character of the book, Dorothy.
Being different from the rest and arriving at a strange world that seems too perfect to be true.
Aside from collecting rare items I also enjoy drawing, sketching or painting. I'm no where near perfect as the Barbie to specifies on art but I do my best.
I've sold a few around town since Barbie recommended my work to everyone, even President Barbie had a large portrait done by me in her office.
I'm not great with parties since I try to relax on my own and sketch everyone having fun. Tonight, I am planning to do the same and imagine myself in their scenario. In their perfect world.
"(Y/N)!." Barbie clapped her hands in front of me drawing my attention back to her.
"Yes?" I ask.
"Many guys will be here. Maybe, I can introduce you to a Ken." Barbie said winking and continuing to decorate the place.
"T-That won't be necessary. I'm not ready to date anyways, I'll just chill with Alan."
Aside from Barbie, I can say Alan is one of my closest friends as well, he's like a brother to me. He's unique anyways, there's just one him.
"You gotta have at least a bit of fun, I don't like seeing you sitting down at parties. Promise me you'll try at least."
I sigh and fake a smile at her, "I promise."
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
A song titled Girls Just Wanna Have Fun continued to blare through the speakers. Everyone was having lots of fun. Different shades of pink balloons adorned the backyard along with streamers and even a big piñata made in the shape of a large 'B'.
Even the refreshing drinks were pastel pink and blue colored. Barbie continued to dance along with the rest. I was sitting down by an empty table along with Alan who had a drink in his hand, "So, I asked her out and guess what she said?"
"What did she say?" I ask tilting my head and knowing exactly where this is going.
"She said yes! But, when I arrived at the cafe she wasn't there. She said she had an important meeting but we're definitely going out next week."
"Good for you, Alan." I held onto my sketchbook and continued to sketch the crowd.
"Don't you want to dance or something? You know if you're having trouble dating a guy, I can always be available for you." He awkwardly said earning a pat on his shoulder from me.
"Trust me you wouldn't want to date me. You deserve someone way better."
Alan hummed and stood up. "You're right."
"Ouch." I said not really hurt by his words but continuing to sketch.
"Well, if you need me I'll be..around." Alan quickly left leaving me on my own. I looked down at my creation and smiled when I saw how well and detailed I got everyone, I flipped the pages and landed on the one I was still finishing up.
"What you got there?" I shrieked and jumped in my spot, quickly closing my book and turning to face the familiar voice.
Ken. Barbie's Ken.
"N-Nothing! Just finishing up a project I was asked to do." I answered quickly and blushed when I looked into Ken's blue eyes and saw a charming smile spread across his face.
He looks so handsome up close! Perfect blue, eyes, perfect smile, perfect blonde hair and perfect bod-
"Cool. Can I see?" He asked all excited sitting in front of me now.
"No! I mean..You can't it's not ready yet." I said trying to come up with a lie.
"I'm not a critic by all means, but I'm sure you're doing a fine job as always." Ken said reaching over to place his hands on top of my book and I grabbed the she and began pulling it towards me and Ken did the same to try and look.
Sometimes Ken has a hard time of understanding when no means no. He's a goofball and kind of oblivious.
"Maybe just a tiny peek.."
"Ken, no!" I felt like I was speaking to a puppy, not understanding it's tricks.
"Come on, (Y/N). We're friends right? Friends gotta stick together and not hold any secrets between us."
I huffed annoyed by him but finding him extremely irresistible and cute when he acts this way. He knows his ways to charm me, well, that's what I like to think. I sat back and slid the notebook over to him.
"Yes!" He raised his fists and eagerly started to look through my sketches.
If onto he knew the truth about how I feel for him. I continue staring at him, my heart beating faster, growing nervous at what he would say once he sees my sketch of him. He'll find me weird and ask me why I drew him, he'll find out about my crush on him for sure!
Ken continued to flip thought he pages until one caught his eye. I sucked in air and was ready to hear his harsh words.
"Omg..Do I always look this handsome?" He questioned staring at the sketch and placing it right beside his face.
"You even got my nose right! Haha. Though I do say between him and me, I'm a lot more attractive."
My mouth nearly fell open. The reaction was unexpected, but what can I expect from Ken. "Is there a reason you chose me?"
"No, wait! It's because I'm your idol isn't it? It's nice to know I have a number 1 fan besides Barbie." Ken enthusiastically said and handed me my notebook back before deciding to sign his name on the same page.
Before I could grab onto the notebook Ken grabbed both my hands into his. Making me blush and surely painting my entire face red at the simple action.
Quickly I pulled my hands back and touched my cheeks trying to hide the blush on me. Ken looked surprised but didn't question it, he now chuckled and stared at me with his hand resting on his palm.
I need to a cold drink. I reached to grab a cup of pink lemonade and began to drink rapidly.
"You're honestly so talented, you just don't realize it. I know you don't like to call yourself a Barbie, but I'm surprised you haven't found a Ken or gotten married yet."
I spat my drink on him and started coughing. "Who's you okay?!" He jumped up when I did and I nodded my head.
"I'm fine! I-I'm so sorry, Ken!" I grabbed a couple of napkins and began to try to wipe his clothes since it was wet, which only made me feel his muscles instead. I blushed and pulled my hands back and apologized to Ken again.
He tilted his head looking at me weirdly. "Are you okay, (Y/N)? You're as pink as Barbie's car."
"I'm completely f-fine! But what about your shirt?" I ask concerned and Ken dug something out of a bag, another shirt and jacket, he brought along and changed right in front of me.
"I always keep spare clothes just in case things like this happen." Ken reached out to me and started to ruffle my hair.
"Don't get yourself to worried. Why don't we enjoy the party instead?" He smiled and I watched him excitedly run off to greet his girlfriend, Barbie. My best friend.
I remained staring at them and the rest enjoying themselves. They party and have fun like nothing else matters. I smiled sadly staring at Barbie and Ken dancing, I grabbed my sketchbook and started to leave the party.
Slowly the sound of music fading the more I continued to walk to my home. Hoping to someday at least someday matter to Ken, and for him to look at me different than just a friend.
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Trustfall
Summary: Sometimes you have to trust someone.
Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, mentions of breakup, a lil fluff
Catch up here: The ring & Tearing at the seams
Andy walks into the house he bought feeling like an unwelcome guest.
He’s unsure why you called him. Maybe something is wrong with the house.
Andy doesn’t dare to dream you called to forgive him.
He knows that the chances are low that you’ll ever talk to him without him seeing the disappointment in your eyes.
Your ex-boyfriend follows you inside the kitchen. He gasps as, to his surprise, or horror (he hasn’t decided yet) you kept your promise and painted the kitchen neon pink.
“So, uh…do you like it?” You nervously wring your hands. The kitchen doesn’t look like you imagined. It’s the worst color ever and you hate it. It hurts your eyes only to look at the walls.
“It’s…unique,” he says, almost laughing as the walls look like Barbie moved into your house. “I never saw a neon pink kitchen before.” Andy rubs his eyes after staring at the walls for a few moments.
“It’s…a catastrophe,” you sniffle. “I tried to paint it and it looks like Barbie threw up and look, the wallpaper won’t stick. I…I’m usually good at things like that.”
You start crying and hide your face in the palms of your hands.
“Y/N, it is not so bad,” he softly says. “Please don’t cry over paint and wallpaper. I’m sure you can fix it. You’re going to make this place your home. Every place is a home when you are around.”
“Y-ou don’t understand,” you run out of the kitchen. Andy gasps as he listens to your footsteps. You run upstairs to throw yourself down onto the mattress you placed on the ground.
“Y/N? Darling?” Andy follows you upstairs, and carefully approaches your bedroom, or what will be your bedroom if you manage to decide on wallpaper, curtains, and such anytime soon. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything is wrong. I didn’t want a house, Andy. I wanted a home,” you hide your face in the pillow on the mattress you call your bed. “I wanted to create a home for me and my person. You know, the one I’ll spend my life with. I don’t even have a pet.”
“Baby, I,” he tip-toed toward the mattress to sit on the floor next to it. “I thought you’d love the house. It’s the one you wanted for yourself.”
“I don’t want to live in a house all alone. It feels like I don’t belong here,” you lift your head to look at Andy. “Do you think someone will buy it now that I ruined the kitchen?”
“You won’t sell it,” Andy gently runs his hand over your head. “Don’t give up on your dream because of me. I know that I’m not worth your love, but you can still find someone to share these walls with.”
“I’m not worthy,” you sniffle. “I was a one-night stand. You only tried to do the right thing. We were never meant to be.” You hide your face in the pillow again. “You never took the ring off because you were sure that I’m not the one for you. But you were it to me and now I’m back to square one. Why do we look for love? It sucks…”
“I didn’t take it off because I was afraid of falling too hard for you,” he lies next to you on the ground. His hand gently runs over your back as Andy tries to find the words to explain how he feels. “From the first moment I saw you, and you kissed me, I was done for.”
“I was drunk—” you murmur. “If not, I’d never found the guts to flirt with you. I felt cocky that night, and self-confident.”
“You were a little drunk,” he whispers as he runs his hand slower up and down your back. “I was enchanted when you grabbed my face and called dips on my lips.”
“I had a hunch that you’re a good kisser. My friend double-dared me to kiss a stranger, and I liked your beard and your lips looked soft.”
“I never thanked her for helping me have the night of my life.” You feel the mattress dip behind you. “Why did you call me, darling?” Andy wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in your neck.
“I don’t know.”
“Please don’t lie to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“All I thought about was to get the house after you left me. And now that it’s mine, it feels wrong. I don’t feel like I’m home.”
“What do you need me to do?” He whispers. “I’d do anything for you. I never told you so, but you’re it for me. I love you with what’s left of my heart since…”
“I don’t want to come home to an empty house. I can have this at my apartment too. At least I know my place, and where everything is. I liked the house when I first saw it. Now it’s just a reminder that I’m all alone and it makes me even sadder.”
“Baby, you’re not alone.” He presses the full length of his body against you. “I miss you so much it feels like my soul is black and blue.”
You chuckle.
“Did you just laugh about me and my confession?” He grunts in your neck. “That’s not nice of you, Y/N! I poured my heart out and you laugh about me.”
“You sounded overly dramatic, Andy,” you snicker. “My soul is black and blue.” You imitate his deep timbre. “I can’t sleep without you. Y/N please let me make sweet love to you, I dreamed about it all night.”
“I didn’t say that,” he tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ll never talk about my feelings with you ever again.”
“I’ve missed you too, Andy. Even though you’re overprotective and a little overbearing sometimes,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I just don’t know where we can go from here. I’m scared you’ll leave me again.”
“I’m scared of messing things up again,” he chokes out your name and tightens his arms around you. “I know I have a lot of flaws, but I can try to be less worried about you. I know you are not a child and that you can look after yourself.”
“I burned my finger,” you wiggle out of his tight hold and turn around in his embrace to hold your burned finger to his lips. “Can you kiss it better?”
Andy cups your face to press his lips to yours. He puts all his feelings into this one kiss. This one chance.
“I-“ you gulp for air when he finally ends the kiss. “I meant my finger…”
Part 4
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Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader.
Part 10 wooohooo thank you for all your support I appreciate it massively!!! Don’t worry if this story has slowed down a little it’s going to pick right back up (without any spoilers 😉). Also I’m hating using the use of y/n it’s making me cringe, it’s too late to add a name to this character isn’t it 😭😭
Tension still continues between Daniel and her. Neither of their pain seems to be subsiding, and it’s safe to say Max is becoming semi-aware of their situation…
Warnings: talk of alcohol, mentions of a previous panic attack but nothing graphic, maybe some swearing? The next chapter will be HEAVYYYY, spicy, arguments, angst, crying omfg I am excited to write it so stay tuned 🤫
The first night she’d slept properly was after her panic attack, tiring her to the point of exhaustion as she passed out listening to all the cliche, heartbreak songs, Celine Dion was on the top of her list. The following few nights were hit or miss depending on sleep, luckily, right before Penelope’s 4th birthday party she’d managed to have a good sleep meaning she was pretty much raring to go.
She’d decided there’d be absolutely no tears and awkward interactions between Daniel and her, they’d texted a couple of times when he was checking if she was okay, but that was the extent of it. She couldn’t spend anymore time thinking about the man, nor could he spend any less time thinking about her. She plagued his mind, he felt like he was going absolutely crazy.
Struggling to carry the large bag full of barbies and the dream house she’d bought for the young one, Max ran over in amusement, taking the large present from her grasp. “Hi! Thank you, Max.” She offered him a quick hug. “What have you bought her, a car?!”
“Barbies of course!”
“P’s gonna go crazy when she sees this. How are you anyway? Better after the other day?” She laughed out of embarrassment at his question. “I’m completely fine now, sorry I had to run away.” I shook my head. “No it’s fine, as long as you’re okay.” Max wasn’t an idiot, neither was Kelly. Neither was P.
“P was just concerned that’s all.” He patted her back with his free hand as smiled gently. “She’s excited to see you, P!” Max called out. “Look who’s here!”
“I’m excited to see her- oh my god! Is that the birthday girl?!” She fell to her knees at the little one ran into her arms, giddy with her birthday excitement. “Happy birthday, P!” She gave her a squeeze as P jumped back. Daniel watched with a gentle smile, his hand tightening around the grip on his beer bottle as his heart crumbled at the sight.
Meanwhile, she had to yet to see him there. She squealed with excitement, clapping as P did a spin her adorable dress. When she did say her hello’s she was speaking mainly with Kelly and a bunch of women she’d met a handful of times before. She was relieved to see her friends already there, somehow the thought of walking in somewhere was still intimidating to her.
Through the whole evening her and Daniel didn’t speak once, they were on the opposite side of the garden all night, she stuck with her friends and he stuck with his. It somehow made Daniel feel more awkward than ever, and he wasn’t sure if it was a conscious effort on her behalf to speak to basically everybody but him. It hurt deep inside of him, it stung at his heart harsher than anything he’d felt before and a weird sickness would fill him every time he thought of how she’d avoided him. Daniel didn’t want it to be like that, if they couldn’t be together then surely they could be as close as they were before?
Daniel would always drive her places, grabbing her smoothies, and they’d always manage to find one another snickering in the most inappropriate moments. She’s sought him out after races where they’d gossip together, giggling at all the influencers there who had no clue what the hell was going on. Daniel never thought he’d miss when they were just friends, but the separation and distance between the pair felt uncomfortably cold.
Another person who noticed this was Max. Odd little things had been happening, first y/n runs off crying, then Daniel looks like a sad puppy lingering around. He couldn’t help but recognise how the two didn’t speak, it was insightful, maybe he was looking too hard into it, but to Max it was blatantly obvious they were upset at one another.
“You alright?” He approached the Australian man who was just preparing to leave. “Yeah, yeah, had a good time, thanks for the invite man.” Of course Daniel smiled in response.
“Something going on with you and y/n?” Max openly asked, Daniel was stunned, momentarily speechless. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Max blurted out the question quicker than he intended to. “Y/n?” Daniel flinched. “She was just a bit upset the other day, that’s all. I talked to her about it.” He scratched the back of her neck, partly avoiding Max’s question. The Dutchman decided against pressing him on the topic. The slight avoidance of the question struck Max as odd.
“Is she okay?” Daniel went to wince again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure she is.” Although he wasn’t sure at all. She seemed good today, he was glad, but surely if she was over this whole thing she would’ve spoken to him… maybe he should’ve made the first move? Oh god, his mind was overthinking like crazy, even messier with Max’s straightforwardness.
That evening it was Daniel’s turn to listen to pathetically cliche heartbreak songs.
A couple days later, after qualifying, she was there again. Daniel had just gained the 6th fastest lap time, however his track time was then deleted for exceeding track limits. It was a nightmare, she found herself going from cheering to stood in disappointment. She knew Daniel wouldn’t be so happy, he’d probably take it on the chin but 6th was incredible, especially to say he was driving a tractor.
That day, her feelings had warmed up to Daniel. It’s like seeing him again at P’s birthday rid some of the anger that contaminated her previously. Once she’d spoken to both Checo and Max, she noticed Daniel lingering not far away, he’d just been talking with her dad once he’d returned over from the Alpha Tauri garage.
He walked so close besides her, and he didn’t even notice her at first, until she stood up from tying her shoe lace and they were all of a sudden face to face. “Hi Daniel.” She borderline squeaked and he felt his stomach knot and flip. “Hey, you alright?” He scanned over her face. She looked good today, not so tired.
“I’m good.” She turned away. “How about you?” Her hand raised to shield the sun from her face, actually looking him dead in the eye now. “Ah, I’m okay.” He seemed to shrug, and for a second it was a little awkward. When she scanned over his face she could feel her stomach flipping.
“You did good today, I mean- I know the whole thing with the track limits happened, but to get initially to 6th is so good.” She spoke, shrugging her shoulders timidly. “Thank you.” His voice was gentle, slightly hoarse, his chest ached so desperately for her, he yearned for her so longingly.
“Red Bull 2024’s looking promising.” She commented light heartedly, even forcing a small breath of laughter as his lips twitched up softly. “Ah, I don’t know.” He dug his foot into the ground as her smile, too, faded and she glanced over him before down to the floor. It was awkward. And it was about to get 10x more awkward when Christian walked over.
“What’re you two flirting about?!” Daniel felt breathless at the fathers comment, he was positive his cheeks were already burnt up. “Dad.” She scoffed out a laugh, playfully nudging his arm away. Daniel forced a laugh.
“I’ll see you both later.” He gave Christian a friendly smack on the arm before heading off in the opposite direction and not sparing her another glance. She winced at the action, unknown to the pain that rattled through Daniel’s chest.
“What was that all about?” Christian asked, eyeing up between Daniel and his daughter. Again, she winced, cringing at the thought of having to explain anything.
“I was just speaking to him about the qualifying.” She shrugged, although her tone wasn’t so convincing. “You’re both blushing.” He narrowed his eyes, an amused smile forming on his face. She knew what he’d do, tease her to death, despite being completely blind to everything else that had already happened.
“No im not!” She defended, spluttering and raising a hand to her obviously burning cheek. “Yeah you are! Look I know you might fancy Daniel a little but-“
“Stop, I’m not 12.” She grimaced. “He is a great bloke is Daniel, anyway.” Oh my god. She officially wanted the ground to swallow her up. Not only had her dad said this to her, but he ensured Max Verstappen was in right in the firing point, overhearing all the conversation.
Max oddly looked like he’d seen a ghost, he was slowly puzzling everything together and now he was convinced that y/n and Daniel were secretly doing it behind everybody’s backs. The girl in the hotel room, the ‘discreet’ love bite on her collarbone, the hushed conversations- Max was a genius!
“I knew it!” He stormed over, filled with excitement. As soon as Christian had left the scene, he was bursting to expose the secret he’d discovered. “Know what?!” She turned in surprise.
“You and Daniel, you’re together!” Oh fuck. She felt her eyes bulge and heart begin pounding.
“What?! No, no, Max, no we’re not.” His smile faded seeing as how hushed she was being about it. “You’re not?!”
“No! I mean- no…”
“But I’ve seen it, I’ve heard you both.” She cringed again at his words and knew there was no denying, she just needed to quieten him.
“No- I mean yes, but we’re not anymore. Please, please don’t say a word.” An odd sense of panic washed through her, Max was stunned, staring back to the anxious looking girl. Her eyes looked the exact same way they did at the race track the other day.
“I-I won’t. Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, I am. Just please don’t say anything, you can tell Kelly just not a soul else.” She pleaded, luckily she knew Max was a man of his words. It felt oddly freeing to get the secret off her chest, it’s like it had been waiting to just be blurted out the whole time. Now it really felt real, the whole thing was semi out in the open, did it make her bad to be exposing something she promised to keep secret?? The thought would eat her alive, but so did the secrecy surrounding her, very much, public sadness…
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🫨🫨🫨🫨
@dinodumbass @mccall-muffin @allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog
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● Superbia
Pairings: Daemon x Fem!Twin Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Content Warnings: Incest, Heavy implications, Rich people being terrible, Cheating, Slight changes to the canon but let's face it, there's worse things happening in the world than me using this fictional world as my barbie dream house
A/N: So this is the second story I have posted on here, the first I've written for Daemon! Feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy ✨️
She can't breathe.
He steals her breath every time and she hates it. He loves it, of course. Relishes in every opportunity to do it. Prick.
Not that a tiny part of her doesn't love it, albeit deep down. Like how she loves him and hates him, in equal measure. A perfect balance of deep love and deep hatred.
She had no choice but to love him. It is an inherent truth, rooted in her bones. They came into the world together, they have always been bound together. That was what started her hatred in the first place.
She could never be as she was, taken as an individual. No matter what she did, she and he would always be 'the twins' whether they liked it or not.
He liked it. He loved himself, so of course he would relish a replica.
She hated it. She loved him, but never knew if he truly loved her for who she was, or just as an extension of himself.
Not that it mattered, they were taken as one. Two bodies, one soul.
It was the most pronounced as children. Exasperated nannies would seek 'the twins' from their hiding spots. Their parents would discuss 'the twins'. Visiting Lords and Ladies would fuss and coo over 'the twins'. The only separation was 'the boy' and 'the girl', when talk of marriage reared its head.
There was some hope for separation as they grew older. They shared blood deeper than most, but that blood was split between two bodies. Bodies that began to become noticed.
His body was noticed for its power, its grace, its strength. It was desired, it was talked about around the seven kingdoms. He was named. They stopped being 'the twins.'
Her body was noticed for its use. How it could benefit others, never her. She was named, albeit under a veil. Princess. Your Grace. Sometimes she suspected that after so many years of being 'the twins', people had forgotten her name.
He teased her with her name. Called her by it. Made sure only he used it. It sounded better coming from his lips anyway.
It didn't stop her frustration, merely cooled it for a time. He called her other names too, names that were not meant for use by them, with each other.
She loved him so dearly in those moments. Even as children he would call her names he shouldn't. When they hid from a nanny, or a maester, giggling in dark corners. When she crept into his bed seeking comfort during a storm, or refuge from a nightmare. Those names soothed her, her name soothed her. Reminded her that he knew her, he saw her for who she was.
But they were not made for peace and harmony. When she loved him, she loved him fiercely. When she hated him, she did so with equal ferocity.
He did it on purpose, she knew it. The girl, the lady, would barely have a toe placed on the streets and he would be there. Sometimes sparring in the yard, showing off. Sometimes offering an arm for a guided tour. Always doing it to irritate her. He never cared for those girls, he simply used them in his games.
She refused to do the same. She would not stoop to his level. If she had wanted to, she could. Every Lord's son was keen to take her hand in a dance, compliment her beauty, invite her to their own castles in a pathetic attempt at chivalry.
He always told her she did not want chivalry. She did not deny it.
To have a man simpering over her was the furthest thing from her desires. She did not want to be placed in another gilded cage to be shown off. He always found her when she hid. Not that she was ever hiding somewhere so elusive. It made her laugh when her father's guards would attempt to get her back inside. One glare would have them retreating. She knew it wasn't her they were afraid of, but she could dream.
He never forced her to go back, to rejoin the dismal parties. He found them just as tedious. They were meant to be the focus of every guest, put on display for every Lord to examine like a piece of meat. They stayed on the outside while they could, protecting each other.
There had been talk of marrying them to each other, especially with Viserys betrothed to the Arryn girl. But why just keep power when you can expand it?
They had the Vale secured, why not plant roots in The North? The Reach? Even Dorne?
Their fate is sealed and torn apart at once. A concerted effort is made to remove the twin image. Twins are two halves of the same person. Twins come together, they are an eternally united pair.
But they are not to be bound to each other eternally. They must be separated.
Guards are placed outside their doors. Maids sleep in her bedchamber. He is still granted freedoms she will never be allowed. She is trussed up, fussed at, preened and plucked. He is allowed to roam free.
The rare times she loves herself are when she is simply herself. Hair loose and flowing past her shoulders, a simple shift dress on, reading by her window and occasionally glancing down to the training yard.
Hair tightly braided, boots hugging her thighs, the clouds surrounding her as she takes her dragon to the skies and feels the rush of the wind on her face.
She is not allowed those things anymore. She is not allowed to be anything but the perfect image of beauty and grace, trotted out in front of every Lord in the land.
He at least has some choice. He freely rejects many eligible girls, though entertains those who he knows are a possibility for him in her eyes. The girls she thinks he could take, could steal her place in his bed, by his side, on his dragon.
They are welcome to him, she thinks in those moments. They see the smile, the strength, the beauty, the perfect Prince. They don't see more and they don't want to see more. They are girls, simpering for a prince, she is a woman who yearns for a man.
Two can play at any game, and she finds it easy to take a seat at the table. She can catch any man's eye, give him a smile, touch his arm, laugh politely, make him feel like there's nobody else in the room. Make him believe he really has a chance.
When all the girls are sent back home, she doesn't rush to him. She lets him come to her, which he always does.
He teases her with the names of every girl who'd ever looked at him, wondering which one he could possibly choose. He expounds on the virtues of the North, the Reach, even Dorne. He could be the dragon who conquered it, he teases.
She does not believe him, she knows he says such things to tease and irritate her, and she hates him for it but revels in her own superiority. He will always choose her, they are a pair.
What she doesn't expect is that someone else chooses her.
She had, naively, as loathe as she was to admit it, thought she had bought herself more time. Claimed that every man who desired her hand needed to be properly considered. She couldn't rush such an important decision.
A decision that was never hers to begin with.
She did not choose her husband, her husband did not choose her. Her father and his father simply moved their pieces on the chessboard and fates were sealed.
He is not a bad man, her betrothed. By all accounts he is one of the better choices that could have been made. He is from a powerful house, he is handsome, strong, chivalrous. He is an excellent swordsman, a keen archer, he has an appreciation for music, art, and good wine, he even makes her genuinely laugh at times.
For anyone else, the perfect husband. A man who would take care of her, love her, give her beautiful children and a happy union.
But all he would be to her was at best a companion, and at worst a vehicle for her worst impulses. She did not cry or scream or lash out in frustration when their betrothal was announced. She beamed, her smile lighting up her face. She held his hand, whispered things to him, played the role of the smitten bride-to-be.
He hated it, and she enjoyed his hatred. When the whispers emerged that she was to be betrothed, he started spending most nights outside the castle walls. She gave up waiting for him, refusing to be a pathetic damsel. One night, feeling particularly dissatisfied and bored, she stole away from her room. She was never afraid of maids or guards, they couldn't harm her.
If she was to be married, she wanted to know what to expect for the rest of her life. The guards outside her husband-to-be's door were easily lured away, and he was even more easily lured once she got inside his bedchamber.
The coupling satisfied her needs at a base level, but no more. She had hoped him being so receptive to her illicit visit would make him see she was not a timid girl waiting to be claimed, alas he was..adequate at best. They would have no problem producing children, but she was not willing to spend the rest of her life being forced to truly satisfy herself by her own hands.
They were never less twins than the run up to her wedding. For the first time in her life she got a taste of autonomy, even as she was marched towards another man to keep her. She was still Princess, even her betrothed rarely used her name, but she felt the change.
She had thought that her twin would batten down on revenge, find some pretty little thing who would extend his power and be left sitting in her beautiful cage. Alas, his capacity to surprise her did not cease.
He created a name for himself on the Street of Silk, rumors abound that he had taken a whore as his mistress, what respectable Lord would allow his daughter, allow his name, to be attached to such a man?
Not that he cared, he had what he wanted. He could fight, fuck, and flout his defiance freely.
She tried to forget about him, but how can you forget that which is part of your very soul? You cannot forget your heart,your blood,your flesh and bones. It is always there, with you.
She was held up as a beacon of shining morality. The model child. The perfect twin. A lady, through and through. She would marry the perfect young man, her children would inherit a great house, she would live a blessed existence.
He came to her, one night in the week before she was to be wed. He was waiting in her chambers, playing with a knife and lightly gesturing to her with it as she came into the room. She swatted it from his hands, strode to her bed.
He knew where she had been, she didn't deny it. She had needs, and what better man to satisfy them than the man who was honor bound to just that?
That pushed him over the edge as she knew it would, delighting in the way they came together like animals, tearing each other apart.
Her wedding day was everything it should have been. The sun held in the sky, basking the city in warmth. She wore a beautiful dress, the crowds cheered and threw flowers at her feet. Her father beamed proudly as she took his arm.
There were whispers of course, how tragic for the bride that her own twin would rather be out sullying his name than be there to witness his sister's most glorious moment. But the whispers became cheers as the Princess kissed her new husband, held his arm so proudly as they walked out of the Sept together, looking every inch the perfect couple.
And now she can't breathe.
She had accepted that her wedding feast would be celebrated without the one person she cared about in attendance. Part of her had wanted him to storm in, cause a scene and revel in his worst impulses and another part had felt proud that he couldn't face her, that she was free to take the spotlight.
But he never did things like she expected or wanted him to. He did indeed storm in, but he did not cause a scene in the way the worst part of her had hoped. He did not charge in atop a horse, high above everyone else. He did not swing a sword at the objectors, the whisperers. He did not rip open her dress, throw her on the table and claim her in front of everyone.
He held her gaze as he walked into the hall, never looking away from her as he slowly walked towards the head of the room, where their family and her new family were gathered. His hand would ghost over the pommel of his sword and move away again. As he walked up the steps to the long table she sat at, she held the perfect surprised expression, a hint of annoyance, a hint of curiosity.
He apologized for his interruption, his eyes never leaving hers. She felt her new husband watch her, reaching for her hand. She took it, her gaze locked on her other half. When he sat at the end of the table, she felt complete.
He would not have her that night, but she would have him forever.
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CARRY ON MY WAYWARD CHILD [PART 2] Ω PJO IMAGINE Ω
PROMPT: When a dream makes the reader unable to settle, they decide to take a walk, converting their dream to reality.
Reader encounters Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth on the run when they have a dream that makes them go out and see a sick Annabeth with a tired, injured Luke and Thalia. They take them in, saving them, and encounters them years later when they remembered a kind stranger.
a/n: Reader is neutral; no specific pronouns or descriptions used. Referred to as Y/N. Roughly college/university age. [Ao3 LINK] [1] [2] [3] [4]
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You proceeded to go to the kitchen just in time to find the kettle finished boiling. You scoured the cabinets to find some other things, from hot chocolate to tea, cookies, and finally a med kit and some Tylenol.
The wind blew and suddenly you remembered about the jar of honey and honeycombs that you were told about in the house; harvested from the bee colonies that your distant aunt raised. Compelled, you grabbed it and set it with the other mountain of things.
As you were assembling them together, you remembered the old storage room. You went inside and found the boxes that had some clothes they could change into for a moment (if they wanted, it could not be that comfortable to sleep in old dirty clothes), something about your distant aunt keeping some clothes from kids she helped. You pulled out an old relic of your teenage years and found a “death to barbie” shirt you had and felt nostalgia take over-
“Why do you have children’s Tylenol? You don’t look like you have kids around-“
“OH, CHEESE AND CRACKERS BY THE GODS-“ you screeched, fumbling with your items as you were spooked. You whipped your body around and looked at Luke, who had his arms up like he was a kid who got his hands caught in the cookie jar-
“DO. NOT.” You stared, placing a hand on your chest and pointing to the boy, “Do not, do not scare me like that alright?”
“I’m sorry,” he stammered, surprise turning to curiousity. “You said, by the gods-“
You waved your hand and took out the box of old clothes, closing the door with your hip.
“Yeah yeah, not very common, I get it. It’s an old habit from my aunt, you remember? Anyways, I grew up in this house and I guess I picked that use of words from her, cause of her beliefs and stuff which I respected. Anyways, the reason I have children’s Tylenol is because I have side gig where I babysit some kids around here so you can never be too careful when they eat the wrong dirt-”
“Beliefs?”
You turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “That’s what you’re focusing on?” you asked and he had the decency to give a sheepish look.
You scoffed and grinned, gesturing to the rest of the house. “I thought you guys saw when you snooped around the house.”
“We…really didn’t snoop,” he said and you stared disbelievingly and he caved. “-yet.”
You nodded as if all was right in the world while readjusting the box. You went past the darkened living room that contained all the herbs, memorabilia, totems, the shrine-
You felt like you should warn them so they wouldn’t get spooked when they eventually went snooping, lest they touch something and its actually cursed buuuuuuut-
“My distant aunt is what you call pagan” you started, “well, by most other established religions.”
“Oh” said the boy, lamely.
You didn’t know if you should feel disappointed or what at that reaction. You thought about it before deciding on something and moving on cause you had more pressing matters to attend to. Like kids.
You approached their designated room and you gestured to Luke to open the door with a nod of your head. He seemed to hesitate but you held up the tray of goodies before he did as he was told. He opened it and you opened it further with a stretch of your leg.
You saw something glint and you saw Thalia holding what you could only see was a bonafide spear. A very familiar spear that you know your aunt has somewhere in the house-
She seemed to stare at you with what you could only say was instinct and survival skills, and it took all you had not to drop the tray in your hands with whatever nerve you had left.
“I have brought the goods” you announced, wondering if your voice cracked. “Put that thing down so you don’t stab me and make me spoil them while I set them on the table there. I would also like to have my organs not poked and be in order please” you said, before moving across, ignoring the very lethal weapon that you know no child should possibly own.
You missed the wide-eyed looks of surprise and realization from Thalia and Luke, even as they looked at each other with silent communication. You instead tried to keep your senses outreached in case she did stab you and to set the tray on the table.
You took a deep breath, prayed whoever would listen, before turning around to see Thalia, thankfully putting away the spear. “Alright, help yourselves. I also have a med kit and the Tylenol. Make sure your sister has something to eat before she takes some meds.”
You went to make sure the room was accommodated for as the kids edged past you to look at the goodies you brought. You snuck a glance at Annabeth on the bed, seeing her skin still flushed but ultimately, a lot less discomfort. No doubt because she was warm and in a soft bed.
“Are these…honey?”
You turned, seeing Thalia hold up the said honey and honeycombs. You hummed. “Yeah, if you want something sweet with your tea. It’s also good for wounds if you want, raised in our own backyard too…well my aunt’s” you said, before you stretched, fatigue getting to you now. “My aunt always offered honey or the honeycombs, like they were the ambrosia for the gods and they are the closest thing we mortals can consume.”
You missed again the looks the children gave you as you rubbed your eyes and yawned. “Anyways, I think that’s just because honey and sugar was a rare thing and honey itself was useful, so ambrosia for the gods. I dunno” you shrugged before you went to leave the room, “I’m going to sleep but again, feel free to get cleaned up and stuff. I rather you guys not lock the door so I can come in if things are bad, but your call I guess. I’m going to head into bed so feel free to also go through the house, just don’t break anything and don’t take anything valuable. You can rummage the kitchen or whatever but just write down what you did take so I can re-stock-“ you yawned, “Alright, I really need to sleep cause university/college is….a pain” you said, changing your profanity for something PG.
You trudge back to sleep without knowing whatever bomb you dropped on them, before you slipped into bed, closed your door, and proceeded to body slam into bed before darkness took over.
You dreamt of something, shifting animals into human-like figures; their appearance way too beautiful and godly for your brain to comprehend. You then saw a woman wearing a shawl, who attended a firepit. She smiled at you and gestured for you to sit. You walked over, finding yourself already sitting as the woman tended to the fire.
She spoke to you words that your ears couldn’t hear, but your soul understood. She smiled before the fire took over and you woke up. The ceiling of your room welcomed you and the day was a nice day. You stared, your brain reeling at what had happened, but something felt different in you; like someone gave you an energy shot that made you feel great.
You got up, grabbing clothes to change into after your shower as the day was just beginning and you had a craving for waffles. Or pancakes. Or-
You thought about what to eat but somewhere deep in your mind, you had a feeling you had just dreamed of meeting a god.
Thalia and Luke slept on either side of Annabeth, with Luke’s back facing the doorway. After skeptically looking at the goodies, they couldn’t dwell on it any longer when Annabeth woke up. The two older kids focused on taking care of Annabeth, who was confused where they were; a stark difference from sleeping on the streets to sleeping in a bed within a house.
After Thalia checked the stuff, they dug in. With full bellies and somewhat clean, they fell asleep after arguing who would sleep on which side of the bed. If the stranger was really an enemy and came for them in their sleep, whoever was closest would be able to fend them off and the other could take Annabeth to safety-
In the end, Annabeth deduced that whoever was closest to the door could protect them and the person on the other side would be able to know when the door opened; leading to the arrangement.
Exhaustion had taken over the two older kids, sleeping through the wafting smell of breakfast from below. Annabeth woke up, slightly bleary but hungry all the same. She looked at both Luke and Thalia who were exhausted and felt bad. She knew they were taking care of her and didn’t want to wake them up.
Armed with the dagger that Luke gave her, she bravely began to look through the house. It was old but relatively homey, which seemed safe but looked deceiving (she glanced around nervously for any spiderwebs). Her stomach won over her brain as she inched down the stairway, getting a good look into the kitchen to see you cooking.
She only saw your back as you were moving around before you disappeared from her viewpoint of the doorway, to tend to the stove of bacon and scrambled eggs.
Curious for more surveillance she descended the rest of the stairway to peek over the doorway to see you flipping the bacon and stirring the eggs. You pretended not to notice your little spy, with the creaking of the stairs giving whoever it was.
Instead you put your focus on breakfast, before you went to turn to the batter that was resting on the countertop that just so happened was in viewpoint of the doorway (you remembered doing the same thing as your guest when you were little when you came to this house)
“Oh!” you said, giving faux surprise at your spy; before actual surprise took over. You had expected either Thalia or Luke but not Annabeth; who jumped and hid away.
“Good morning! You feeling any better?” you asked from where you stood, you didn’t dare move but kept your anxious channeled to stirring the batter.
You saw Annabeth peering from the doorway and nodded, skeptical. You gave your best smile, but you were pretty sure you looked like a mess in the morning since you didn’t expect to deal with this already-
“Good, good. I gave your brother and sister the children’s Tylenol so if you don’t feel good, go to them and they should give you some,” you said as you turned to the waffle maker, “My name is Y/N by the way” you threw out to the side before you begun to turn to the waffle maker, pouring the batter to make some.
The instant smell hit as you heard a stomach rumble, and you snapped your head to see a very embarrassed Annabeth. You held back a laugh but there was a chuckle, earning an irate look.
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll scoop out some eggs and bacon for you first” you said before turning around to do so. As you plated, your little guest had moved away from the door to behind the countertop as you tried to exude friendliness.
“Here, help yourself. There’s plenty for everyone” you stated, as you slid the plate of food towards her and slid her an empty plate for herself to grab. She stared at the food, hunger in her eyes but also suspicion. You turned to your waffles, trying not let the wonder why these kids looked at everything like it was a threat-
“Waffles or Pancakes?” you asked.
“Huh?”
“You like Pancakes or Waffles more? I can make either” you offered.
Annabeth stared at you but the smell of the waffle curbed her in. “I like waffles” she said slowly.
You smirked, handing her the freshly made waffle, gesturing to the condiments.
“I like waffles/Pancakes myself but is good too” you said, before ladling food for yourself. You saw Annabeth looking at the food and upstairs as you ate your food, taking a sip of your morning beverage.
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty for them too. I’d imagine they want you to eat your fill before thinking of themselves. I know as soon you get better, the sooner you’ll slip away.”
Annabeth looked at you with surprise that you knew what they were doing but you had to hold back your reaction at seeing her mouth full of waffles, eggs dripping from the corner of her mouths, and about to devour the bacon.
You quietly poured her a glass of milk and slid it to her in a quiet reminder to drink before she choked. You ate your own breakfast and quietly kept to yourself, occasionally asking Annabeth if she wanted more, the radio playing a tune faintly in the background.
It was almost seemed like another day of babysitting the neighbourhood kids. That you didn’t just let a bunch of random runaway kids into your home, who happened to wield dagger, spears, and-
THUMP THUMP THUMP-
You and Annabeth flinched and looked up as the ceiling shook with thundering footsteps. There were hurried steps down the creaking stairs, making you wince at the fear that the steps is going to crack from the other two’s speed, and barely grabbed your plate of breakfast to lean back as you saw a spear coming between you and Annabeth.
You held your breakfast plate up in the air, your desire for your food while haphazardly keeping your hands up in peace.
“Annie!” yelled Luke as he went to Annabeth from behind Thalia who was holding the spear between you and her (and their breakfast). “Don’t scare us like that-“
“I’m sorry Luke-“
“It’s not entirely safe-“
“But-“
“In my defense-“ there was a glint of metal and you’re hunger made you irritated, “Oi, I swore and I’m adhering to the rules of being a good host. Don’t you be rude and point a weapon at me young lady.”
Thalia seemed surprised at your sudden irritation but you grumbled, lowering your hands to stab at your breakfast. You took a huge bite, chewed, giving the two older kids a look of disappointment before you swallowed.
“Alright, enough with the whole threatening. I’ve offered my home, my bed, clothes and food to you. The least you can do is not trample or test my hospitality. Also, it’s too early for this” you said, swagging your fork at both of them. “I get you two want to protect each other and your sister, but you’re not going to be able to if you can’t allow yourself to relax and take the good will to your advantage. Which means no more weapon pointing alright?”
Thalia and Luke glanced at each other as Annabeth spoke confused. “Sister?”
You rose an eyebrow at them, having a feeling but you decided not to touch on it.
“Now that’s over, let me eat our breakfast in peace. Help yourselves to whatever, when you’re done just leave the plates in the sink” you huffed out before taking your breakfast and taking into the living room.
As you entered the living room, surrounded by all the items and artifacts your aunt kept, you saw a glint in the corner of your eye. You turned towards it and for a moment, the sunlight bouncing off the item made you wince, but it hit you when you saw the weapon hanging off the mantle.
How similar of the metal it was that Thalia and the kids were wielding.
You recalled an echo of a memory of what your aunt told you.
The plate crashed to the floor, as the realization hit you like cold water.
You just realized you just let a bunch of demigods in your house.
[Ao3 LINK]| [3][4]
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a/n: I realized once the live action comes out, I'll have to clarify more that the canon characters depicted are based on the books. If I'm missing any tags, please let me know!
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𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂
╚»★ 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐞𝐧 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ★«╝
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff, comedy, lil' ken angst
🇷🇦🇹🇮🇳🇬: non-explicit
🇵🇴🇻: 3rd person; He/She/They
🇩🇪🇸🇨🇷🇮🇵🇹🇮🇴🇳: in which, a new brand of Barbie is introduced after Stereotypical Barbie's departure from "Barbieland" to the real world
🇼🇴🇷🇩 🇨🇴🇺🇳🇹: 2.4k
🇦/🇳: Hello~ Welcome to my first writing post on tumblr. i just went to see the new Barbie movie and now I can't seem to get it out of my head; so until that happens, I will be both cross-posting old/new works from my quotev, wattpad, and a03 while making fics/one-shots for Barbie (2023) and other shows/animes I have written on my main-masterlist here.
★·.·´🇧🇦🇷🇧🇮🇪 🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹`·.·★
Under the enchanting night sky of Barbieland, the large moon cast a gentle glow upon the sea, creating a shimmering path of light on the water. Inside the magnificent Barbie Dream House, excitement and laughter filled the vibrant atmosphere as all the Barbies and Kens danced to the upbeat music that infused the air with an infectious rhythm. Their unique outfits exuded beauty and confidence, making them look stunning as the dazzling lights inside the Dream House created a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls. Laughter echoed in harmony with the melody, and joyous cheers filled the air as the celebration reached its peak, bathed in the party lights' shimmers of colors, adding an extra dose of magic to the already joyful and magical night.
Stereotypical Ken, however, sat on the beach just outside the Dream House, separated from the revelry. With a heavy heart, he stared pensively out into the sea. His vibrant blue eyes, usually full of life, now glistened with unshed tears. He had been heartbroken ever since Stereotypical Barbie left for the real world. Deep down, he understood why she had chosen to pursue her own path. Barbie loved him, but only as a friend, and he had come to accept that their relationship was never meant to be anything more.
He let out a wistful sigh, reminiscing on the days when he believed he and Barbie were the perfect couple, destined to be together. He recalled the moments they shared, their laughter, their adventures in Barbieland, and the love he felt for her. It was a love that burned brightly within him, but one that would never be reciprocated in the way he desired.
A few feet away, Ken's best friend, Allan, along with Diplomat Barbie, Doctor Barbie, and even Tourist Ken, observed him with concern.
Allan, always attuned to the feelings of others, furrowed his brows as he watched Ken sitting alone on the beach, gazing out at the sea. He leaned closer to the group and whispered, "Guys, have you noticed how much Stereotypical Ken has changed lately? He's been so down since Stereotypical Barbie left."
Diplomat Barbie nodded in agreement, her diplomatic instincts making her sensitive to everyone's emotions. "Yes, it's evident that he's taken Barbie's departure hard," she observed softly. "We should be there for him, show our support."
Tourist Ken, never one to pass up an opportunity for a sarcastic remark, snarked, "Well, he's certainly not the life of the party anymore, that's for sure."
Allan shot Tourist Ken a disapproving look, not amused by his friend's snarkiness. "This isn't a joke, Tourist Ken," he retorted, his voice firm. "We all care about Stereotypical Ken, and it's clear he's going through a tough time."
Doctor Barbie, caring and nurturing by nature, added, "You're right. He needs our understanding and a listening ear. It's essential that we let him know he's not alone."
Tourist Ken sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he grumbled, softening his tone. "I may give him a hard time, but I wouldn't want to see him like this. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if my Barbie left me."
☆
☆
Inside the lavish boardroom of Mattel, the CEO paced back and forth, his frustration palpable. Stacks of Barbie dolls, adorned in various outfits and styles, surrounded the long conference table. The room was adorned with posters of classic Barbie campaigns, serving as a constant reminder of the iconic brand's legacy.
"Sales are stagnant, and we need a fresh approach!" the CEO exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Barbie needs a rebrand, something that speaks to a wider audience while promoting empowerment and self-expression."
The executives around the table exchanged concerned glances, knowing the weight of the task at hand. They recognized that Barbie was more than just a doll; she was an embodiment of dreams and aspirations for generations of young girls.
With a renewed sense of determination, the executives began brainstorming ideas, eager to impress their CEO. One after another, they presented concepts, but each idea was met with a cold rejection from the CEO.
"A line of Barbie dolls inspired by famous historical figures?" one executive suggested.
"Please, we've done that before," the CEO retorted dismissively. "Next!"
"How about a collection of Barbie dolls with augmented reality features?" another executive proposed.
"Augmented reality? Ha! Kids want something tangible, not virtual gimmicks!" the CEO scoffed.
Undeterred, the executives continued to offer ideas, ranging from high-tech Barbie accessories to Barbie-themed amusement parks. Yet, every suggestion was met with the CEO's sharp wit and skepticism.
Finally, the pressure and frustration reached a tipping point. The CEO let out a loud groan and dramatically pushed a few boxes off the table, clutching his hair in a hilarious display of exasperation.
"I can't take it anymore!"
Before he could indulge in his dramatics any further, the CEO's assistant intervened, entering the room with a sense of urgency.
"Sir, forgive the interruption, but there's an important call for you," the assistant said, used to her CEO's regularly scheduled breakdown.
The CEO sat up, straightening his tie. "Who is it?"
"It's the CEO of MGA Entertainment, sir."
It was as if a flip was switched inside the CEO. "MGA Entertainment, huh?" he hummed, face souring.
"Y-Yes, sir," the poor assistant stuttered, frightened by the CEO's sudden change in attitude.
"What for?"
"H-He wishes to discuss a potential collaboration."
The room fell silent as the executives exchanged curious glances. MGA Entertainment's reputation as a competitor was well-known, and they were cautious about any potential collaboration.
The CEO let out a sarcastic laugh, his mood shifting drastically. "Ah, MGA Entertainment, the masters of 'BRATZ' dolls," he said with a wry smile. "And we all know how that went for them, don't we?"
The executives chuckled, recalling the past incident. MGA Entertainment's 'BRATZ' dolls had attempted to mimic Barbie's appeal, but they failed to resonate with the audience and eventually disappeared from the market.
Despite his skepticism, the CEO couldn't ignore the potential benefits of collaboration. He leaned back in his chair, considering the offer. "Well, I guess if they survived the 'BRATZ' debacle, a collaboration with Barbie might just be the redemption they need! Let's hear what they've got to say..."
☆
☆
As time passed, Stereotypical Ken found himself wandering aimlessly through Barbieland, his heart heavy with unrequited feelings. The once vibrant and joyful atmosphere of the daily Barbie and Ken party had lost its luster for him since Barbie's departure. As the other Kens and Barbies danced and celebrated, Ken stood at a distance, his shoulders slumped, feeling disconnected from the festivities.
However, amidst Ken's somber state, a subtle change began to sweep through Barbieland. The air seemed to crackle with a new energy, and an unspoken excitement buzzed like electricity. He couldn't help but notice that his fellow Barbies and Kens were acting differently - their giggles were a little more infectious, their laughter a touch more boisterous. They whispered excitedly to each other, glancing over at the large Barbie Dream House with anticipation sparkling in their eyes.
"What's going on?" Ken asked Allan, who seemed unusually animated lately.
Allan grinned mischievously, nudging Ken with an elbow. "Oh, haven't you heard? A new Barbie is about to join us, mate! And trust me, she's got everyone talking!"
Confused by the sudden excitement surrounding the arrival of this new doll, Ken couldn't help but wonder what made her so special. He couldn't fathom anything surpassing the allure of his beloved Barbie, but curiosity gnawed at him.
As the days passed, the anticipation only grew. Everywhere he turned, Ken caught snippets of hushed conversations, whispers of the doll's distinctive features, and rumors of her unique style. The buzz became contagious, infecting even the once indifferent Kens with intrigue.
Intrigued himself, Ken found himself drawn to the Barbie Dream House, where preparations for the new doll's arrival were in full swing. The normally bustling home was abuzz with activity as Kens and Barbies put in extra effort to make everything perfect for the newcomer.
But Ken couldn't bear to be around all the excitement. He felt like an outsider, lost in the sea of happiness that he couldn't share. Instead, he decided to retreat to his favorite spot on the beach, hoping the crashing waves and the salty breeze would somehow soothe his aching heart.
As he sat on the beach, lost in his thoughts, dark clouds began to gather in the sky, and a faint rumble of thunder echoed in the distance; but he was so immersed in his own despair that he didn't notice or care about the magical display unfolding above him.
Ken sighed deeply, his thoughts swirling like the sand beneath his feet. "Why did Barbie have to leave?" he pondered aloud, gazing out at the vast ocean.
His mind wandered back to their time together, the laughter, the adventures, and the moments they shared. He had thought they were perfect together, destined to be the ultimate Barbie and Ken duo.
"But I guess it was all in my head," he muttered, sadness heavy in his voice. "She made it clear that she only sees me as a friend, and nothing more."
The memories of their dances, the twinkle in her eyes when they were together, and the tenderness of her touch haunted him. Ken couldn't help but wonder if he had missed some sign, some signal that he wasn't enough for her.
"I should have gone with her to the real world," he contemplated, his heart feeling as turbulent as the approaching storm. "Maybe I would have had a chance to change her mind—"
His external monologue was interrupted by a soft voice that broke through both the turmoil in his mind and heart. "Hey, you good?"
Ken looked up, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.
The dark thunder clouds that surrounded the beach broke away, allowing a small portion of sunlight to shine down beautifully, and there stood an unknown Barbie, whose skin was aglow under the warm embrace of the sun, adding a radiance that seemed to emanate from the depth of genuine concern and kindness pouring from her brown eyes.
Her knotless box braids cascaded gracefully down her back, like a mesmerizing waterfall of dark strands, with delicate pink braids artfully scattered amidst, adding a touch of whimsy and individuality.
Her plump, glossy brown lips curved into a welcoming smile, inviting and warm.
Her figure, a testament to feminine allure, boasted elegant curves that held a magnetic charm, exuding undeniable beauty that effortlessly held Ken's gaze like saints to alters.
It was the new Barbie.
For a moment, Ken was at a loss for words. He had seen many Barbies in his time, but there was something uniquely enthralling about this newcomer. The Barbie's warm gaze seemed to pierce through the storm of his emotions, reaching a place deep within him that he had locked away after Stereotypical Barbie's departure. Her presence exuded a sense of confidence and understanding that resonated with him in ways he couldn't explain.
"You good?" The unknown Barbie repeated, lips pulled into a pout as her head tilted in question.
Ken's heart skipped a beat at the question, and he couldn't help but feel a rush of surprise and warmth. It was a rarity for someone to ask him—a Ken—about his feelings and well-being, especially in Barbieland, where the focus was usually on having fun and making Barbies happy.
"I... uh..." Ken stammers, trying to collect his thoughts while his heart races. "Yes?"
Even a rock could tell Ken was lying, but instead of pushing it, the Barbie just accepted it offering only a small smile and a nod.
The next few moments were spent in silence, but to Ken, it felt like an eternity. He couldn't believe how hyper-aware he was of the Barbie's presence next to him; every detail about her seems to fascinate him, from her warm smile to the way she delicately brushes a strand of hair away from her face.
The longer she sat beside him, the more his curiosity burned at which Barbie she was.
Finally, with a bit of courage, he spoke, "I'm Stereotypical Ken. And you are?"
"I'm Y/N."
Ken couldn't help but be taken aback. You weren't like any Barbie he had encountered before—hell, by your name alone, you weren't even technically a Barbie, and yet, there was an undeniable allure about you that he couldn't resist—a glimmer of a connection he hadn't experienced in a long time. He blinked in surprise, his mind momentarily struggling to process the name that wasn't Barbie.
"Y/N," he repeated your name, savoring the way it felt on his tongue.
You giggled at his reaction, a playful glint in your eyes. "I can see the confusion on your face," you said, your smile never fading. "Allow me to explain. I'm a new brand of Barbie, a limited collaboration piece between Mattel and MGA Entertainment, called BARBZ. We're all about embracing uniqueness and self-expression while promoting empowerment, over here."
Ken's surprise turned into curiosity as he listened to your words. He had heard of MGA's 'BRATZ' dolls before, but this seemed like a whole new concept, unlike anything he had encountered in Barbieland.
"So, you're not like the other Barbies?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around the idea.
You shook your head, a soft breeze rustling your knotless box braids. "No, I'm not. I'm my own person, with my own story to tell. Just like you are your own person, Ken."
Ken felt a strange sense of reassurance in your words. For so long, he had been defined by his relationship with Barbie, but here was Y/N, a Barbie who embraced her uniqueness and encouraged him to do the same.
"Y/N, huh?" Ken grinned, voice still tinged with vulnerability, but no longer a mere whisper. "I like it, it suits you."
You beamed, delighted by his response. "I'm glad you do, Ken. And who knows, maybe we can create our own story together."
A part of him couldn't shake the fact that you were another Barbie, and he feared that getting close to you might only bring more heartache. He was still healing from the pain of his unrequited feelings for Stereotypical Barbie, and the thought of opening himself up to someone new was daunting.
But there was something about you that felt different, something that made him want to take a leap of faith.
"Yeah..." Ken echoed back in agreement, eyes softening the longer he stared at the new Barbie—no, Y/N's smiling face. "...we can."
A/N: I just wanted to add, I am in no shape or form am advertising BRATZ DOLLZ hate 💀💀 I just thought this was a cool concept. I ALSO want to add that the BARBZ is in reference of Barbie + BRATZ not Nicki Minaj (no hate to the Barbz, but yall be wilding out here, so imma not get in that)
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hand in ungloved hand [binxhera playlist]
a soft, sweet playlist for the weaver of fate and her knight of darkness. art by kathe gravel.
my first @d20exchange gift for @ljsarts !! happy holidays 💜
if my heart was a house - owl city
Chills run down my spine / As our fingers entwine and your sighs harmonize with mine / Unmistakably, I can still feel your heart / Beat fast when you dance with me
i wouldn’t mind - he is we
Carefully we'll place for our destiny / You came and you took this heart and set it free / Every word you write and sing is so warm to me / So warm to me I'm torn, I'm torn / To be right where you are / I'm not afraid anymore / I'm not afraid
stand by you - rachel platten
Hands put your empty hands in mine / And scars show me all the scars you hide / And hey, if your wings are broken / Please take mine 'til yours can open too / 'Cause I'm gonna stand by you
hold my hand - jess glynne
Break my bones but you won't see me fall, oh / The rising tide will rise against them all, oh / Darling, hold my hand / Oh, won't you hold my hand?
through the dark - one direction
When the night is coming down / We will find a way through the dark
different kind of love - kid runner
It must've been something / Oh something you said / You're pulling me under / Holding me close Inside of my head
i see the light - mandy moore, zachary levi (tangled ost)
And at last I see the light, and it's like the fog has lifted / And at last I see the light, and it's like the sky is new / And it's warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted / All at once everything looks different / Now that I see you
dream state - lucy dacus
Without you, I am surely the last of my kind / We had a lot to measure / We had more past than pleasure / And time grows deep like weeds / You catch me when I'm falling
back up plan - maya hawke
The dream you planted in your forest / Your winter coat in summer storage / Your favorite game, your secret shame, your eyesore / I wanna be anything you've lost that you might be lookin' for
heal - tom odell
And take a heart / And take a hand / Like an ocean takes the dirty sand / And heal, heal, hell, heal
sweet nothing - taylor swift
They said the end is coming / Everyone's up to something / I find myself running home to your sweet nothings
king and lionheart - of monsters and men
And as the world comes to an end / I'll be here to hold your hand / 'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart
ready now - dodie
You said, "I will listen / Tell me it all You don't like the ending / Then we'll find one that's yours"
when he sees me - sara bareilles
What if when he sees me I like him and he knows it? / What if he opens up a door / And I can't close it? / (What if I only open up?) / What happens then?
entropy - beach bunny
'Cause somebody's gonna figure me out / It's what I am, it's what I was, it's what I wanna become / Yeah, somebody's gonna figure us out / And I hope they do 'cause I'm falling for you, whoa
i would be so pleased - tim di pasqua, deedee magno hall
Is it what I'm worthy of? / Still I have my doubt / Could I live my life for love, after life so long without?/ There's so many ways to go It makes it hard to see/ I need so much more to know, if it's where I'm meant to be
if you love me for me - sierra nelson cover (from barbie: princess and the pauper)
What you see may be deceiving / Truth lies underneath the skin / Hope will blossom by believing / The heart that lies within
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Blood of my Blood
Morgan Leclerc. The youngest Leclerc by only some minutes. She doesn't describe herself as a jealous person. She's not. But many fans think she is because she followed her brothers steps, wanting to be on a car and being as competitive or more than them.
The first time she saw her brother Charles driving a kart, she was with her twin brother Arthur on the grades, eating sliced apple and following all those karts with her eyes. She never understood why, but all her dreams since that day were her on the seat of her brother, listening to the noise of the motor and her head inside a helmet. All her Barbies had to fit inside the red Ferrari she and her brothers drove with a remote control, and they did races on their house.
She wanted the same as her brothers, race, feel the speed, the air on her body wrapping her while she drives those karts and turning the wheel to go through a corner.
Her favorite moment of the year wasn't when school finished, meaning that summer started. No. Her favorite moment of the year was when she walked with her mom through the streets and saw all those people building the grades for the race in the harbour, meaning that there are only some months left to see those fast cars again, to hear that wonderful noise some other girls from her school hated, and begged to their parents to go away of the city that race weekend.
When she sat for the very first time on the seat of a kart, she felt how her heart bumped hard on her chest the seconds before getting comfortable. But when she touched the wheel with both of her hands, her heart stopped beating crazy, instead it made a little jump and told her 'Hey, this is were we belong. You are in the right place'. That moment will never get out of her mind, she treasures that feeling so deep in her heart that every time someone ask her why she drives, she simply answers:
"Because my heart told me to".
And it was true. Her heart told her brain to make her legs press the gas pedal, her hands to hold tighter the wheel and her lips to smile wide. Because she was where she had to be. On a kart. On a track. In the motorsport world.
They called her and her twin Arthur 'Two bodies one mind' every time they drove through a track with their karts, being the perfect team togehter, making strategies with only the movement of a hand. They said it was the twin mind-reading, and maybe they were right, those two siblings were the perfect team.
She was pretty, a great student, stole the heart of many boys. And still, her heart was full of her love for motorsport. People in Monaco loved the Leclerc family, all of them bet for them, wanting to see them win races, go to the king category of motorsport: Formula 1.
But unfortunately, women didn't get there. Her path with her twin parted when he went to Formula 4 and she was selected as a driver for W-Series. And what hurt her the most and made her realize that she will never get on one of those cars was when her older brother Charles got on Formula 1 and she and her twin got accepted on the Ferrari Academia. The only difference was that she never was trained for the star car: the Ferrari. She was trained for her category. Sure, she met the other drivers, became great friends with Mick Schumacher and Oscar Piastri, but when they ascend categories to Formula 1 she felt bad.
She wanted to be there, with them. Competing against her brothers and best friends.
She was one of the best drivers of the female grid, making it easy to be visible for the big category. Her wins were observed by many big teams and, somehow, it wasn't funny for her brothers.
"It's dangerous, Morgan. I don't want to lose you like Jules" Charles said when he knew that Haas had an eye on her to make her a reserve driver. "Your car is safer than a F1".
"You won this last season, Mor" Arthur said. "Keep winning, Formula 1 is harder".
That made her go mad. When she thought that her brothers supported her job, the reality was different. She felt betrayed, watching how they achived their dreams while she just stayed at their backs, looking from the distance how Charles got podiums with Ferrari or gor Arthur went to Formula 2.
She distanced herself from them, moving out with her teammate to be near the headquarters of her team, and taking time to stay away from them.
"Morgan, you really need to fix things with them, they are your brothers" her older brother, Lorenzo said. "Well, it seems that they don't act like that. If they really cared for me they would cheer for me, support me. Not ignore my dreams and push me back into what they consider a comfort zone for me".
They stopped talking for a whole year, only talking the necesario on family dinners or family trips. They never talked about their jobs, she stopped asking Charles about his championship, or Arthur about the possible contract on Formula 2.
They stopped talking.
She never told them that Mick and her started dating after the end of 2021, or that Haas talked with her, wanting her as a testing driver. None of them knew that during Barcelona, she drove Mick's car and that she was going to be on the garage during the races.
She did everything to ignore her brothers. If some weekend she went to the track with Mick and walked in front of the Ferrari hospitality, she just looked to the front and ignored Charles. She stopped watching the F3 races when her twin got a podium, turning off the TV. If they don't support her she doesn't have to support them.
The day she got the call from Haas, saying that they fired Nikita Mazepin and asked her to be part of the testings and race in Bahrain, she thought they were pranking her. But then she saw the news and immediately called back saying that she will race with them.
"You will be my teammate?" Mick asked her laughing, kissing her temple. "I'm so proud of you, dear".
But, who was surprised when he saw the name of his sister at the list of drivers that will be on the same group as him for the press conference? Charles Leclerc.
The moment he saw her walking to the room, dressed with the shirt of Haas and a cap, he was speechless. The rest of the drivers were shocked as well, not knowing how his sister was there before Arthur. It was a big surprise, and all the interviewers got the change to ask her what everyone was thinking.
"Well, I think I deserve it as much as any other driver" she said looking at the cameras. "All women deserve to be on this category, and it's a big pleasure to be here right now. Not all men want us here, and we don't have as much support as them, but it never stopped me to fight for what I deserve".
Charles was shocked, surprised. He felt guilty, because he knows why she said that.
He was afraid to talk with her, just like Arthur. Whenever she walked past them, they felt like a cold wave that froze their hearts. It was like if she never saw them before. And they felt guilty.
Arthur tried to talk with her. He missed his twin, the connection the has before everything that happened. But it was like if she neber met them before. Her gaze was cold, her blue eyes were like ice cubes. But what hurt him the most was when he saw her with Mick Schumacher, happy and hugging him. He hurt him that he never noticed their relationship, that grew that year and a half they were apart.
Charles was afraid of her. He was afraid of what she could do on track, he was afraid of his own sister. It was ridiculous. But it was the truth. The moment he saw her on the screen that was in front of him while he waited to start the testing, he was breathless. He knew that Haas wasn't good last season, but now? Now with her on the car it was like if that car was ready to get podiums. And he knows that his sister was greedy, but victorious. He knows how she is, how focused, smart and talented she is.
"Love, try to talk with her" Charlotte said to him, feeling how tense he was. "How? It's like if I don't exist to her".
Mick saw the way Charles looked at her, like searching her gaze or attention. And then he looked at Morgan, how her features changed every time they walked in front of the Ferrari hospitality or near Charles.
"Morgan, are you really going to ignore him?" Mick said looking at her and then at Charles. "Yes".
They were like strangers. Strangers with the same blood and same last name. Everyone around the paddock was surprised, asking why they never talk to each other. It was weird, two siblings that never acted like siblings.
But it changed the third practice for the race.
The Haas with the number 12, Morgan's, was doing an amazing job. She was trying to set a good time so she could get into the Q3 for the qualifying. She was lighter, faster. Powerful. But then she lost control of the cae, a problem with the tyres that made her crash into the barriers.
"Fuck!" She exclaimed, trying to get the car our of there. "Morgan, you alright?" her engineer asked on the radio. "Yeah, but I fucked up everything".
Charles saw a car on the barriers, and when he recognized it was a Haas he started to panic.
"Red flag, Charles" Xavi said. "Slow down and come back to the box". "Who is it?" he asked nervous, anxious. "Eh... Morgan".
He wanted to jump out of his car, run towards the car of his sister and get her out of there. But he couldn't. What if she push him away, scream at him?
He parked the car on the garage and jumped out of it, ignoring the staff of the red garage and ran to the Haas one, worried. He looked around, searching her blonde hair, and when he saw her walking out of the safety car, he ran towards her and wrapped his arms around her.
"I was so worried" he whisper on her shoulder, hiding his face on her neck. She was shocked, feeling how his arms wrapped her tightly, how his body shook with quiet sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Mor".
She frowned, wrapping her arms around his body slowly. He was crying, and she was too.
"I am proud, Morgan" he whispered. "We are proud. We really are. We watched all your races".
That was what broke her. She was so selfish, so stupid. She pushed them away while the only thing they wanted is to see her, support her. She ignored all the people that told her how her brothers missed her, how they wanted her back.
"I'm so stupid" she mumble hugging him. "I just... God, I wanted to be like you. I wanted it ... But then you and Arthur told me those things" she whispered. "We were idiots. We only saw you as our little sister, not as a driver. Fuck... You won three times on W-Series. You are here!" He exclaimed, making her giggle. "You are a Formula 1 driver, Morgan. Finally".
She pulled away from him and sighed, looking at her older brother. Charles cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead and touched the braid she made.
"Arthur is here, right?" She whispered. "Can I see him? Where is he?".
He laughed and looked around. The pracitis going to restart soon. He told her where her twin is,, and since she can't go back to the practice, she ran out of the garage if her team and went to the Ferrari hospitality.
"Is Arthur there?" she asked to the man that was standing in front of the main door. He nod, taking a step to the side and letting her walk inside. "Arthur?" she mumble, looking the back of his blonde hair.
He turned around and the moment he saw her there, dressed with the Haas suit, he got up and ran towards her without doubting it. He cried, just like her.
"Morgan..." He mumble and she shook her head, hugging him tightly. "I know. I'm sorry". She already knows what he's thinking, the way he looked at her tells everything. "I missed you too" she whispered.
She missed her family, her brothers. The feeling of being a team, a perfect team. The blood of her blood.
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Hello, and Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays to all you wonderful, holly jolly people! Today is Christmas and it is also the last day of my "12 Days of Prompts!"
For the last day of this little prompt marathon, I've made a dialogue prompt list of my absolute favorite Christmas movie, which has always been "Barbie and The Nutcracker!"
This movie is what first exposed me to, of course, "The Nutcracker" and Ballet, it's also what created the tradition in my family that every year we get dressed up and try to go to a performance of "The Nutcracker." We've done this since I was eight, and yes, I was a little shocked by the difference when I first saw it, lol.
Either way "Barbie and The Nutcracker" and "The Nutcracker" are both beautiful and hold a dear place in my heart so I hope you enjoy this dialogue prompt list!
I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.
Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays: Celia ❤💚❄⛄🎄🩰
“You're at least a head taller!
“I thought you weren't coming this year!”
“And miss a chance to visit you and vex my uncle?”
-
“Some people never change, but we can always hope,”
-
“You just need to find the courage to try,”
-
“Where did you go this time? I want to hear all about it,”
“Well, let's see. I met an Emperor, I sailed on a junk, I had my first rickshaw ride, and I hiked the Great Wall of China,”
-
“A young girl needs to be responsible and practical!”
“She is responsible. You raised her well, Uncle. It’s time you trusted her to grow up and make her own choices,”
-
“From the ballet?”
-
“You're already conspiring against me,”
“Don't worry. I'll wait until your party's over before I perform any mischief,”
-
“If we keep practicing, you will,”
“But what if I freeze out there? In front of everybody?!”
-
“I'd appreciate it if you'd stop filling her head with your stories. Just because you go traipsing all over the globe rather than stay put like a sensible person-”
“There's a world full of wonders out there, Uncle, and she deserves to experience them,”
-
“He loved them, but he was very stern,”
-
“Thank you for saving my life, and for your superior nursing skills,”
-
“Look after him. He's a little rough around the edges,”
“You want me to babysit a rock?”
-
“Maybe next time you can come with me,”
“Grandfather would never allow it,”
-
“Please. No more daydreaming! We have to finish decorating before our guests arrive!”
-
“It’s time we wake her,”
“And spoil a beautiful dream? No, let her sleep,”
-
“Twenty-two minutes early, such bad manners,”
-
“You might want to wash off that frosting before the mice take a bite out of you,”
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
“No, but I’m sure Grandfather will insist on a bath,
-
“Mother gave this to me the Christmas I saw my first ballet,”
-
“The mice have found their way into the Christmas boxes!”
-
“You’re impossible!”
-
“Then he bowed and asked me to dance,”
“Did you?”
“I couldn’t say no to the king!”
“You must have felt like a princess! I wish I could have been there,”
“On the outside, maybe but inside beats the heart of a prince,”
-
“Insolent mice!”
-
“Can you make it up to the mantle?”
-
“She’s not a child anymore, she deserves the chance to follow her dreams,”
-
“I must be dreaming!”
-
“It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning,”
-
“It’s time I turned you, into something more useful! Like kindling!”
-
“Please don’t be too angry with him, I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you,”
-
“Even as a nutcracker, you’re a thorn in my side!”
“And a thorn to you, I shall remain!”
-
“Meddling human towering tall, let my scepter shrink you small!”
“Look out!”
-
“Not in my house!”
-
“This is not good,”
“Not so fearless now, hmm?”
-
“You’re not going to get away from me this time unless you’d like to feed the fire,”
-
“This has to be a dream,”
“I’m afraid it’s all too real,”
-
“You mean you used to be?”
“Not a Nutcracker,”
-
“It’s dangerous, yes, but not impossible,”
-
“Well? Are you coming?”
“Me? With you? In there? I don’t think so,”
-
“Once you’ve found the Sugar Plum Princess, open the locket, and you will return home to your normal size,”
-
“Well then, would you mind changing me back before you go? Remember? I used to be taller,”
“I’m afraid only the Sugar Plum Princess can reverse the Mouse King’s spell,”
“The Sugar Plum Princess?”
“Yes, I’ve been trying to find her since the Mouse King turned me into a nutcracker,”
-
“A firefly?
“No, a snow fairy!”
-
“Where’d they go?”
“Probably off to make a blizzard somewhere,”
-
“It’s alright they’re just children. With very good aim!”
-
“That would be a shame, then I couldn’t tell you the juicy bit of gossip I overheard!”
-
“Soon it’ll all be a memory if the Mouse King has his way,”
“And you’re sure the Sugar Plum Princess can help?”
-
“She’s our only hope of defeating him,”
-
“Let me guess the mouse decided that he liked being king,”
-
“You insolent little bat! I should turn you into a ceiling fan!”
-
“It’s what’s left of the gingerbread village. The Mouse King’s work, no doubt.: I didn’t know things had gotten this bad,”
-
“It’s dangerous here, we’ll travel together until we can find you a safe home,”
-
“Prince?”
“The son of the king who ruled before the mouse took over,”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t much of a prince!
“The king left his throne and the golden scepter to his royal advisor-”
“The mouse,”
“Until the prince could prove himself worthy,”
-
“Wait, they may be telling the truth, I once overheard the King telling the Prince about this powerful princess. The king himself believed in her magic and we’ve tried everything else to defeat the mouse,”
-
“I had high hopes for that boy, no matter, I’ve got more important things to think about, like keeping what’s left of our subjects safe from the Mouse King,”
-
“The Prince!? He’s the reason we’re in this mess! If it weren’t for that reckless boy, the Mouse King wouldn’t be turning everyone into knick-knacks!
“You make the prince sound pretty awful,”
“Awful? That’s a compliment! He was useless, lazy, and irresponsible!”
-
“So, you’re telling me that the Nutcracker, a wooden utensil, managed to escape a well-armed fighting squadron unharmed? And, instead of fleeing into the hills, you chose to return to me and report your incompetence?!”
-
“Here it is the Sugar Plum Princess. Kind, clever, and brave!”
-
“What does one create for the palace that has everything?”
“How ‘bout bookends, since there’s two of ‘em?”
-
“I suppose I’ll just have to reduce the Nutcracker to a pile of splinters before he can find her!”
-
“Why haven’t you told anyone?”
“I… I didn’t want to be the prince when I had the chance, now I don’t deserve to be,”
“That’s not true! You’re risking your life to save your kingdom! Isn’t that what princes do?
“But my subjects think less of me than they do the Mouse King! My only hope is to find the Sugar Plum Princess so she can help me restore my people’s happiness… I owe them that.”
-
“That was very noble of you,”
“Heh, least I could do for an old friend,”
-
“I’m a nutcracker, sleep seems kind of pointless,”
-
“Perhaps we should find a safer place to cross?”
“Perhaps you should remember who’s in charge of this expedition!”
-
“I should never have come. What was I thinking? That I was going to find a magical princess? I could always go back home, I’m sure I’ve got some doll clothes that would fit. What am I saying?! I can’t leave! I’m their only hope! If I could just get off this island,”
-
“What?”
“They say you’re beautiful,”
-
“Oh, what’s she carrying on about now, probably saw a snake or a spider or-”
“Rock giant!
-
“I want every last villager, fairy, and general troublemaker rounded up to witness this display of my absolute power!”
-
“She’s a fantasy! But if Nutcracker wants to believe in fairytales…he’s about to find out: this one doesn’t have a happy ending,”
-
“Don’t worry, wood floats and rock doesn’t!”
-
“And if we don’t? You battled the Mouse King’s army, rescued Captain Candy, and saved us from a vicious pile of rocks! All without the Sugar Plum Princess,”
“We’ve got to find the princess if you’re to return home your true size,”
“That is what you want, isn’t it?”
“… Of course,”
-
“It seems your subjects are planning an uh…uprising,”
“What?!”
-
“You’re nothing but a coward, hiding behind a magic wand!”
-
“Of course, the princess has been with us all along!”
“What?”
“It’s you! You are the Sugar Plum Princess!”
-
“Sugar Plum Princess or no Sugar Plum Princess, that rat has got to be stopped!”
-
“We’ve got to get out of here! The Mouse King is building a bonfire!”
“I doubt it’s to warm up the palace,”
-
“There’s more to being a king than having a crown!”
“Oh? Suddenly you’re an expert?”
“You’ll never gain their loyalty until you’ve earned their respect!”
“I don’t need their loyalty! I don’t even need them!”
-
“Don’t worry… I’m just… wood, remember?”
“You and I know you’re much more than that,”
-
“It all makes sense! You saved me from the Mouse King in your parlor, you rescued us from his dungeon, your bravery led to his defeat and your kiss has broken his spell! You are the Sugar Plum Princess!”
-
“And now you’re free to take your rightful place as king,”
“Well, that’s for the people to decide,”
-
“This locket was supposed to take me home, but in my heart, I feel I’m already there,”
-
“None of this would have been possible without you. Will you stay and be my queen?”
-
“I absolutely despise happy endings!”
-
“It wasn’t a party, it was a war! The Nutcracker was fighting the Mouse King, who shrunk me with his golden scepter!”
“I’ve never heard such a story even from your aunt!
“It’s not a story! it really happened!”
-
“May I have this dance?”
“I couldn’t say no to a king,”
-
“If she hadn’t been brave, she would have never found out she was a princess!”
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Pink Screen (Yoonjin AU fanfic)
"One ticket for whatever he's watching."
Inspired by this twitter post and the fact that yoonjin are the og barbenheimer with their pink and black fits<3
I originally posted this as a twitter thread but decided to upload it here too, even if it's late for the trend lol. I hope you'll enjoy!
"One ticket for whatever he's watching."
The cashier smiles knowingly at the man. His black leather jacket and menacing glare are a little out of place at the movie theater, but she's never been one to judge.
"Cute, isn't he?," she nods towards the other guy who's already entering the screening room. The lighting catches on his soft blonde hair and pretty features, his oversized pink hoodie swallowing his wide frame cozily.
He seems like everything this newcomer isn't.
It's a harsh contrast but they do say opposites attract, so.
"Here you go, one ticket to the Barbie movie. Enjoy!," her grin widens as the man takes it from her and she winks for good measure. "And good luck!"
Yoongi stares at her, gaze piercing, until she starts to fidget uncomfortably in her seat. Then, he leaves without a word, following the pink man into the screening room.
It's dark inside, the commercials already playing on the huge screen. They paint the pink man's face in colorful hues and reflect in his eyes.
There are some other people, but their attention is either on their popcorn or the ads so Yoongi approaches the man without notice.
He's sitting in the otherwise empty last row. Yoongi sits down right beside him without a second thought.
There's an amused huff and Yoongi doesn't have to look away from the screen to know that the man is smiling.
"Hello, Officer," he hears the melodious voice, smugness evident in the tone. "You must miss me a lot, with how you're always in my tail."
"I have to keep an eye on you," Yoongi replies, cold and stern. He chances a glance at the other man, but he's looking at the screen, not at Yoongi.
His side profile is illuminated by the low lights. Yoongi's eyes stay on it for longer than intended, following the slope of the nose, the long eyelashes, the full lips.
"Take a photo, Min, that'll last longer."
Yoongi eyes snap up to meet those of the other man, dark gaze with a glint of mischief. The full lips curl into an ominous grin.
Yoongi starts talking before the man can spout any more nonsense. He keeps his face carefully emotionless as he says:
"I know you robbed that bank, Kim Seokjin."
The man pauses. His smile dims.
The next time he talks his voice is serious.
"You don't have proof."
Yoongi raises an eyebrow.
"I have witnesses."
They stare at each other. The movie is starting but neither of them cares.
Seokjin is the first to back down, exhaling and shaking his head as he leans back in his seat.
"So, you're here to arrest me?," he clicks his tongue. "A shame."
He stares up at Yoongi from under his lashes.
"As much as it would be an honor, Officer Min," Yoongi rolls his eyes on reflex, making Seokjin smile before he sighs, glancing at the screen. "I really wanted to see this movie."
Yoongi watches him carefully, without a word.
Then he turns back to the screen where Barbie is flying out of her pink dream house into her pink dream car.
He can feel Seokjin's eyes on him.
"What are you doing?," Seokjin asks. Yoongi shrugs.
"What does it look like?"
When he talks again, the grin is evident in Seokjin's voice.
"It looks like you're indulging the city's most wanted criminal in a movie date, Min Yoongi."
It's Yoongi's turn to huff a quiet laugh.
"Well, maybe I am," he mutters, glancing at Seokjin.
The man looks away quickly but not even the dark room can hide his pink ears. They match the color of his hoodie.
Yeah, Yoongi thinks, arresting can wait.
And so he gets comfortable, shrugging off his leather jacket and leaning back in his seat, knee knocking against Seokjin's lightly. He loosens his tie, too, then lets his arm hang over the armrest, palm turned suspiciously upwards.
It only takes a few seconds for Seokjin's hand to slide into his, fingers tangling and fitting together perfectly. They feel soft. Yoongi squeezes them barely noticeably and Seokjin squeezes back.
They stay like that for the rest of the movie and after that as well.
The cashier sends them a wide grin and a thumbs up when they leave the theater, still hand-in-hand. This must be how Cupid feels after a job well done, she thinks proudly.
And if Yoongi, how to say this, forgets to take Seokjin to the police station in the end, it's all on Barbie.
Criminal!Seokjin and Cop!Yoongi except they're too fond of each other to do their job properly<3
Don't be afraid to leave notes and comments, or share this fic with others, if you'd like <3 It really means a lot to me!
Find me on AO3 and Twitter (I write there too) and you can ask or tell me anything here - please be kind with that tho^^
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charlie x merchant propaganda!?!?!
"Havin' a rough day, stranger?"
Charlie hears the heavy accent of the merchant as Leon answers him with a tired sigh.
Ashley had ran away after a coughing fit and acting like someone had mind controlled her, which is the main reason for Leon's stress.
But Charlie is anxious knowing that was definitely the result of the plagas infection.
And she could be next.
"How 'bout you, luv?"
Charlie raises her head to see the merchant staring at her. Or at least, she thinks he is, as much as she could see from his hooded face.
Usually she enjoys talking to him about their mutual love for guns, but she's in no mood as she thinks of the threat of the plagas inside her.
"Could be better," is all she says, just to be polite. He is still one of the few kind souls in this horrible place, after all.
He doesn't respond immediately, and she isn't sure, but she feels the man's burning gaze on her.
Then he claps, startling both her and Leon.
"Ya know, I just remembered I got a new kit 'ere just fer you," he says a bit too cheerily.
Charlie is intrigued as he rifles through his mysterious coat.
And her green eyes widen as he reveals a beautiful vintage-looking automatic rifle.
Leon whistles. "Could definitely cause some mayhem with that," the agent says. "How much for it?"
"Because you two are my favorite customers, it's on the house, mate,"
Charlie sees Leon's jaw drop open, and she's inclined to do the same until the merchant adds, "On one condition!"
His gaze goes to her.
"The lady 'ere gets to use it."
She's speechless.
Leon's speechless.
Hell, maybe even somewhere in the castle Ramón is speechless.
"It's mine?" Charlie asks hesitantly, though it's hard to hide just how excited she is, like a little girl about to get her first Barbie doll.
The merchant nods and ok she most definitely sees him wink that time.
"Kick their arse, darlin'"
He hands out the rifle to her, and Charlie picks it up, testing the weight as she quickly becomes comfortable with it, already imagining the damage she could cause with it.
"There's that gorgeous smile," he laughs, and Charlie doesn't even notice she's grinning ear to ear now.
After getting chased by senior citizens, surviving a volley of cannon balls, and receiving a warm welcome into the castle, Charlie could almost cry from such a sweet gift.
"Thank you," she says, not sure she could say more before her voice cracks. She isn't about to have a breakdown right now!
The merchant nods.
As she and Leon leave the safety of his shop, the purple light fading in the distance, the special agent chuckles.
"Most girls like flowers on the first date," he teases.
Charlie giggles as she holds on tight to her gift. "Well most girls don't have to fight their way through hordes of zombies," she says. "And he knew the color goes with my eyes,"
SCREAMING
I love this so much. Girl loves guns very much and if someone else loved them too? That’s the dream.
If you want me to consider your fave for Charlie this is what you need to do, write a little drabble for her 🙈
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I'm so late to this.
Thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday. :D
I saw them, and they made me smile, but I just forgot to reply. *laughs and bangs her head on the desk.* I'm sorry. I really do appreciate you, and love you. :)
It was a good birthday.
I got some extra tips today from a customer, so what did I do?
... Well, I put half of it in the bank, because all of my bills were paid/are going to be paid on the 25th.
But what else did I do??
I BOUGHT A TICKET TO SEE THE BARBIE MOVIE ON FRIDAY!!!!
And, since I had some play money left (After all the responsible stuff was taken care of, of course), I bought the Ken and Barbie dolls from the movie (the Ryan Gosling and Margot Robbie dolls).
The Mattel HQ retail store was out of the Margot Barbie dolls, but they had Kens up the bum. I asked the associate if they were getting any more in, and she said no. "What's out there in the wild is what's out there."
So I bought a Ken, and a $5.99 barbie so I could swap outfits with the Margot Barbie. (I'm going back later to get a Eugene doll - Flynn Rider). Then went to Target and found the LAST MARGOT BARBIE!
I'm scared to take her out of the box, but I've never been the kind of person to keep cool stuff in their boxes.
Stuff is made to be used. Toys are made to be played with Not just looked at. :)
These are the first barbies I've bought since I had an allowance.
My sister collects barbies, but she keeps them in their boxes. I understand the value of keeping them in mint condition, but why do that if you're not going to sell them, or play with them? They're just... there.
I don't know. *shrugs* I wasn't the kid you gave collectables to.
I was the kid you gave toys to that would go on all kinds of imagination-fueled adventures and come back covered in mud, marker, or weird haircuts.
Like... PLAY WITH THEM!
Anyway, they weren't that expensive, so I had some money left over for a poke bowl for dinner. :)
Now, for the movie, I have pink clothes.
I actually bought bright pink clothes to wear, because I want to roller skate from Venice to the Santa Monica Pier and back. I haven't yet for some reason. May do that this Saturday or something. :)
I intend to wear these pink clothes.
And I'll bring one of the dolls, because I know it's Friday, the premier, at a later time, so everyone there will be adults just as weird as I am. :) I will be in good company.
All in all, a great birthday.
................................. The Mattel store has the dream house for $180. *deep breath* It's a good thing I don't have $180. :D
I really want that house.
And the corvette.
And yes, I had barbies as a kid, and I played with them. And I had one whom I cut her hair and gave her weird clothes. I had a Weird Barbie I named Holly - after the human character in the kids puppet show called "Under the Umbrella Tree" that I liked to watch when I was a kid. :)
*update* I FOUND PEACH BLOSSOM BARBIE ON EBAY FOR $23!!!!!
That was one of the barbies I had as a kid! It was one that was given away with the rest of my barbies without me being asked first if I'd be ok with giving them away until AFTER the fact.
Like, yeah, but, some I wanted to keep. :( I pretended that I didn't care, but inside I actually did care. I was upset that I wasn't even consulted.
My niece got them (I think). To my knowledge, she still has them, and the dream house.
It was ages ago, so I haven't been made for years. I hope she passes them on to her kids and tells them the story of Holly, the Weird Barbie. :)
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