#stereotypical ken x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

winxanity-ii · 8 months

Text

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐒

╚»★ 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐞𝐧 x 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ★«╝

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff

‌🇷‌🇦‌🇹‌🇮‌🇳‌🇬‌: non-explicit

🇵‌🇴‌🇻‌: 2nd person; You/Your

🇩‌🇪‌🇸‌🇨‌🇷‌🇮‌🇵‌🇹‌🇮‌🇴‌🇳‌: in which, ken manages to turn a chaotic concert night into a peaceful, starlit escape

🇼‌🇴‌🇷‌🇩‌ 🇨‌🇴‌🇺‌🇳‌🇹‌: 1.9k

🇦‌/🇳‌‌: I haven't posted in two weeks—college is awesome but ya girl's drowning in work, not gonna lie. Also, my meal plan is on its last leg. So, you know, typical college struggles. 😅 Anyway, enjoy the new one-shot!

★·.·´🇧‌🇦‌🇷‌🇧‌🇮‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

In Barbieland, a realm of perennial glitz and glamour, your debut had a nebulous charm that left an imprint on everyone—just like a lingering constellation in the night sky. Though excitement always ran high with the introduction of a new Barbie, your presence was, quite literally, out of this world. You were the Astrophysicist Barbie, and you looked at the stars not as glinting trinkets but as complex systems begging to be understood.

You were a different kind of celestial body in this colorful universe. Your interests were nested in theories and complex algorithms that could predict the future of galaxies. And it wasn't just that. There was something about your focus that stood out. While everyone was busy mingling and attending fabulous parties, you'd often zone out, diving deep into your own world of thought. You weren't easily drawn into casual conversation; you preferred more 'orbital' talks that delved into the mysteries of the universe.

Nobody really judged you for it, but, one Ken seemed particularly infatuated. He was the stereotype of Ken: charismatic, outgoing, and so easily and completely smitten by your mysterious aura. In the world of Barbieland, where the narrative often revolved around Barbie, Ken had become accustomed to listening. With you, he found something extraordinary. It's as if he tapped into a wavelength he never knew existed, and in that newfound frequency, he relished being listened to—maybe for the first time ever.

He became your anchor. When words seemed too distant and unnecessary, he was your voice. If you whispered something, he'd amplify it for the world to hear. On occasions when you complimented him, he'd get adorably flustered. Once, a simple "You look handsome today" sent him crashing to the ground, only to get up and strike a smoldering pose, saying, "Thank you."

His interaction with you was as tactile as it was emotional. He found peace in the very details that made you, 'you'—like when he'd gently play with the ends of the box braids that frame your face or hold your hand, noticing how your fingers subtly recoiled before relaxing. The world saw a lively Ken become still and serene, as he sat in your presence, finding a solace he didn't know he was seeking.

There was a sense of mutual balance. Ken was the day to your night. He was talkative–the sun illuminating your universe, and you thrived in quiet moments–the calming darkness that gave his light purpose. Together, you were a cosmic ballet, an astral yin-yang, existing in a serene equilibrium, balancing each other out seamlessly.

Tonight, though, was special. Barbieland was hosting its grandest concert of the year, and you both had decided to attend together.

As soon as you and Ken stepped into the Dreamhouse, the room buzzed like a hive of electricity. The air was thick with the scent of various perfumes—floral, musky, sweet—all blending together in an intoxicating concoction. Barbies from all corners were gathered, radiant in their glamour and glitz, laughter sparkling like champagne bubbles.

"Astrophysicist Barbie!" A Barbie in a sequined dress exclaimed, her voice slicing through the ambient hum. "Your box braids are absolutely gorgeous!" Her eyes popped, basically radiating heart emojis.

"Thank you," you responded, your fingers lightly touching one of your braids, a little spark of satisfaction coursing through you.

Ken squeezed your hand reassuringly, beaming with pride. "She spent hours on them," he shared, nodding toward your hair, the whiff of his cologne a calming contrast to the ambient fragrance.

The two of you navigated the crowd like a ship through celestial bodies. Ken introduced you to old friends and some fresh faces, the timbre of his voice oscillating between a buttery smoothness and ecstatic peaks, every interaction accompanied by the light touch of his hand on your lower back.

"Barbie, it's so good to see you here!" Another Barbie’s words almost danced out of her mouth, her red curls bouncing to a rhythm of their own. "Aren't you excited for the main act?"

You nodded, though in reality, the rising crescendo of the music, chatter, the intensity of different perfumes, and the layered textures of bass and treble were starting to be a bit much. "I've been looking forward to it."

That's when it hit you—like an asteroid crashing into a placid moon. The music roared into a crescendo, and with it, the murmur of voices turned into a disorienting wall of sound. Layers of noise—laughter, bass, cheers—piled onto each other, each clamoring for attention. The twinkling high notes of a pop song cut through like stars piercing a dusky sky, and the drumming bass vibrated through the floor, reverberating in your chest as if your heart was suddenly drumming to an alien rhythm.

"Surprise act tonight, you in the know?" Leather-jacket Ken leaned in, shouting over the noise.

You tried to focus on his words, but the lights seemed to flash more vividly, colors blending into one another, each flash more disorienting than the last.

"I—uh—" Words slipped through your fingers like sand.

Ken sensed your struggle, almost as if reading your mind, and was by your side immediately. "I think we have, but Barbie and I wanted it to remain a surprise," he chimed in, attempting to take over the conversation and offer you a respite.

It was like your senses were drowning—your nerves felt like electric wires, buzzing and short-circuited. Your ears were like black holes, pulling in all of sound until it morphed into a gravitational mass of incomprehensible noise. Everything blurred into a dizzying mess.

"Barbie?" Ken's voice broke through the din, his face etched with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I…" you started, "It's just a bit much."

He immediately understood, wrapping an arm protectively around you. "Let's find a quieter spot," he suggested, guiding you away from the heart of the event and towards solace.

Ken’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist as the two of you made your way to the concert's exit. The pulsating lights and resonating beats grew fainter with each step, replaced by the promise of quietude and the comforting cool of the night.

Almost there, you thought, just a few more steps to the door.

However, as you neared the door, a distinctive voice, melodic with a hint of mischief, chimed in, “Leaving so soon, lovebirds?”

Both of you halted to find Cabaret Dancer Barbie, her flapper dress sparkling under the party lights, her vibrant red lips upturned in a teasing smile. With her reputation for being sharp-witted and playfully blunt, she was hard to miss in any gathering.

"Ken~," she purred, shooting him a mock-disapproving look, "taking this precious gem away before the night’s even reached its crescendo? And just when I was about to showcase my new dance routine!"

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, not used to being the center of such playful attention. Ken, ever the charmer, responded with a grin, "Well, Cabaret, some moments are meant to be private. Besides, Barbie and I had planned on some quiet time tonight.”

Cabaret Dancer Barbie stepped closer, giving you a once-over before winking conspiratorially. "Quiet time, huh? Should I be worried about what you two are getting up to?" She laughed, her voice tinkling like chimes.

You could feel the flush deepening, words failing you. However, Ken, picking up on your discomfort, chuckled lightly, steering the conversation. "Just some innocent stargazing, I assure you. But knowing Astrophysicist Barbie and her love for the stars, it might just be the highlight of our evening.”

Cabaret Dancer Barbie laughed heartily. “Well, if it's the stars you're after, I won’t keep you. But Barbie, darling,” she said, leaning in closer to whisper just loud enough for Ken to hear, “if he doesn't show you the most dazzling constellations, you know where to find me for some real entertainment.”

With a playful wink and a twirl, she sauntered off, leaving a trail of laughter in her wake.

Ken looked down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Let’s make a quick escape before anyone else notices."

With that, the two of you managed to sneak out, leaving the party's frenzy behind. The path uphill was lined with softly glowing lanterns, leading you both to the serene hilltop, where the bright stars awaited your arrival.

As the two of you settled on the hilltop, the noises of the concert became a distant hum. The stars above glittered brightly, and the cool breeze felt soothing against your skin. The city lights of Barbieland painted a beautiful, ethereal landscape below.

Ken reached for his guitar case, the moonlight catching its polished surface. He opened it, pulling out the guitar. It looked old, worn, but in the best possible way. It had history.

“I didn’t really plan for this,” he began with a chuckle, strumming a few chords to test the tune, “but maybe some calm melodies can make the night a bit better.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of warmth. “Ready?” he asked, an excited grin tugging at his lips.

You nodded, smiling back at him.

The first few chords he played were soft, the melodies seemingly caressing the silence of the night. Then, with a deep breath, he began to sing, his voice holding an intimate, raw quality.

"I don't know if I've been strong enough, Life’s been a journey, and sometimes it’s rough, But right here with you, under the moon's gentle hush, Feels like a touch that says, ‘You’re more than enough’."

"I want to hold you close, yes, I do, yes, I do, Be the one you lean on, see this through, see this through, Not taking you for granted, Never taking you for granted, Yeah, yeah, I won’t."

His voice, filled with emotion, reverberated in the cool night air. The lyrics, a reflection of your shared journey, tugged at your heartstrings.

As the last note faded away, Ken looked up, his blue eyes glistening, perhaps with the reflection of the stars, or perhaps something deeper. "May I have this dance?" he asked, extending a hand towards you.

You hesitated for a brief moment, cheeks flushed, "But… there isn't any music playing now."

Ken gave a playful, exaggerated whine. "You're going to deny me a dance on a technicality?"

Seeing your amused expression, he added, "Besides, can't you hear it? The distant melodies from the Barbie house and the rhythmic waves crashing against the rocks - nature's very own orchestra."

He winked, his boyish charm evident. "Come on, let's make this moment our own. Let’s dance to the rhythm of the world around us."

Tentatively, you took his outstretched hand, letting him pull you close. As he gently wrapped his arms around you, you rested your head on his chest, listening intently. Beyond the distant sounds he'd mentioned, the strongest rhythm you heard was the steady thud of his heartbeat.

As you both began to sway, the world faded away. There was just you, Ken, and the intimate moment you shared. The faint noises in the background melded into a unique, soft tune, one that seemed perfect for the two of you.

The warmth of his embrace, the gentle cadence of his heart, and the shared serenity of the night all blended into a memory that would forever be etched into your heart. In that moment, amidst the vast expanse of Barbieland, you found your own little universe in the arms of someone who truly understood and cherished you.

lol, did anyone peep the song?? I tried my best 😭😭

60 notes · View notes

callieyanderechan · 7 months

Note

Yandere Barbie and Ken (2023) with a 1960s Barbie s/o?

That I can anon!

YANDERE!BARBIE AND KEN X 60s!BARBIE!READER

Barbie and Ken think you are so cute!

With your bubble haircut and gloves and shit

You just scream innocence

When Barbie starts having thoughts of f death she also starts having thoughts of being with you <3

When Ken finds out about the patriarchy he finds out about women of the 50s/60s and instantly thinks of you

You could be his little housewife <3

So they both become obsessed for different reasons

But obviously if they fought over you, you would get scared of them

So when Barbie comes back to Barbieland she makes a deal with Ken

He will demolish the patriarchy and the two of them will share you

Barbie guilts you into being with them

"I thought I lost my home and all my friends and I still can't stop thinking about.... death. I need you"

You feel bad for her so you agree to be with her

Then somehow Ken is involved

You don't even know how

One day it was you and Barbie

Then the next it was you, Barbie and Ken

And the relationship is kinda confusing

You are dating Barbie but you're married to Ken but Ken is not married to Barbie and Barbie is not dating Ken

Of course they have to keep their darling safe. Away from all the other Barbie's and Ken's and Allan

So Barbie gets a new dreamhouse. Far away from all the other dreamhouses

And every night you choose who's bed you sleep in because obviously Ken and Barbie aren't going to share a bed

Because they are loyal to you

You are literally never allowed to leave the dreamhouse

You spend all day cooking and cleaning and dressing up in pretty dresses

And generally just being a pretty housewife

Dr Barbie came to the dreamhouse once to see you

No one has seen her since

Barbie and Ken swear they don't know what happened

They do

Everyone learns to leave the three of you alone after that

As long as they stay away from the secluded the dreamhouse then they are safe from suffering the same fate as Dr Barbie

What happened to Dr Barbie?

Barbie and Ken may or may not have played with her too roughly

GOOD THING THEY LIVE NEXT TO THE BEACH

Overall you are literally stuck. You should of ran to the real world when you could

#callieyanderechan #callie's thoughts💭#barbie #barbie 2023 #barbie movie #yandere #stereotypical barbie x reader #stereotypical barbie #ken x reader #yandere ken #yandere barbie #yandere barbie x reader #yandere ken x reader #yandere scenarios #60s!reader #barbie!reader #60s!barbie!reader

214 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 7 months

Text

HCs: Stereotypical Barbie, Beach Ken, & Allan reacting to their S/O dressing up as them for Halloween

Note: Made this a little bit "meta" (and by that I mean the characters are aware that their outfits exist as marketable costumes in the Real World).

........

Stereotypical Barbie

Among the many things she learned (and is still learning) about the Real World, it's that the "glorification of rampant consumerism" went beyond her toyline and made a LOT of sense during Halloween.

She never expected to see her western, jumpsuit, and gingham outfits stuffed into bags when you both visit a Spirit Halloween store (although it was neat seeing an entire section dedicated to Barbie).

And she was especially surprised to learn that "Barbie and Ken" were gonna be one of the most popular couples' costumes this year (it's a little awkward for her since she's not with Ken anymore, but she won't complain much).

Speaking of costumes, she never understood why so many of them had to be bloody and scary--or cute, bloody, and scary all rolled into one.

She'll quickly gloss over them and hurry back to the cute costumes, often tugging you along with her before you can protest.

Compared to Barbieland, Halloween is...definitely celebrated differently here.

She still doesn't get why humans would wanna buy fake severed limbs for decorations, nor why they created such scary lifelike robots.

But she does a total 180 when a girl dressed up in her western outfit passes her by on Halloween night, saying "Hi Barbie" with such a big smile on her face.

Suddenly, she likes this holiday a little bit better, especially after seeing other ladies posting their own Barbie-inspired Halloween costumes on social media.

It's the scariest season, and yet there's so much joy going around as she realizes women are still coming together and lifting each other up!

Her happiness only grows when she arrives at your doorstep with candy, and you surprise her by dressing up as a Barbie yourself!

When she realizes you chose one of her outfits specifically, she can't stop gushing over you.

It's touching, especially since she wasn't really a "remarkable" Barbie doll; you literally could have picked any other doll's outfit to inspire your costume...

And yet out of all of them, you wanted to be her.

It genuinely made her feel special and so so loved.

Beach Ken

Like Barbie, he had very different expectations of Halloween.

He learned men were usually the ones who "protected" their partners from the scary stuff. So he tries his best.

Yet he's always the one curling up in your lap and/or hiding his face whenever a mild jumpscare happens in a movie.

But he loves loves loves dressing up for the holiday and decorating (although at times he forgets and will accidentally scare himself if he bumps into the decor--ie hanging bats).

He insists on being a cowboy this year (toy horse stick included) and reaaaally hopes you'll match with him.

Instead, you have a better idea and surprise him by your costume:

It's him!

Or more specifically one of his outfits (beach, dance party, rollerblade, western, kenough hoodie, etc.) that you either picked up online or handcrafted yourself over the course of several months/weeks.

Regardless, he's gonna cry when he realizes that you chose to dress up as him, of all people.

For the longest time, Ken looked towards other people for inspiration, especially when he first learned about the patriarchy.

But to learn that he's YOUR inspiration???

He feels like the luckiest man/doll alive.

Hell, you wore his outfit better than him somehow.

When you both are walking up and down the street, he's delighted seeing other people dressed in his western or rollerblade outfits (never mind them being so cheaply-made and mass produced), glad that the Real World's starting to appreciate Ken again.

But compared to you?

You were a ten.

Allan

He was sorta adamant towards Halloween, at first.

If anything, he worries for your sanity (and perhaps humanity's sanity as a whole) after you showed him some classic horror movies.

Poor guy is just baffled as to why anybody would like seeing that kind of stuff...and how it doesn't keep them wide awake at night.

But once you tell Allan about all the other customs and traditions, he partakes in them--although anything involving blood is a no-go for him.

On Halloween night, you both agree to just kick back and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters.

His "costume" is the outfit he usually had on in Barbieland, but he's worried that it pales in comparison to whatever you're planning to wear.

All you said over text was that it's a "big surprise", so he's anxious to see it.

He's well aware of Barbie and Ken having their own costumes, and he tries not to sulk about there being no Allan costumes in this world.

Yet when he opens the door, he nearly drops the candy bowl upon seeing you wearing a similarly striped shirt, shorts, and sandals.

You decided to dress up as him!! As an Allan doll!!

Now he finally realizes why you've spent hours couped up in your room.

There's a good chance he's gonna get all weepy over this (and frantically claim that it's allergies when a few concerned trick-or-treaters come up to the door a minute later).

But now he takes back whatever he said about nobody in the Real World caring about Allan.

Because you cared.

#barbie x reader #barbie 2023 x reader #barbie movie x reader #stereotypical barbie #stereotypical barbie x reader #margot barbie #margot barbie x reader #beach ken #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling ken x reader #ken x reader #beach ken x reader #michael allan #allan x reader #halloween #headcanons

125 notes · View notes

aubeystawby · 9 months

Note

hello, sweetie!! i have seen your post about barbie requests, so here i am!

how would barbie (margot) + ken (ryan) + allan react if the reader was not a barbie but also not a ken. basically they are just like allan, someone that doesn't fit in any of these binary roles.

(btw, i love the way you write and i love u! 💕 take care of yourself, right? :))

Thank you for this request, I had so much fun writing it!! And admittedly lost some sleep when i had ideas past midnight that i just had to write down immediately 😭 you can find it here !!

Also omg the way I smiled at your ask :( you're soso kind and that compliment means so much to me :(!!!! You take care of yourself too, tysm and have an amazing & lovely day/night 💞💞💞

(I also hope what i wrote is what you were hoping for!! if not or even if it is, please do feel free to request again/anything else you want to see!!) 💛

49 notes · View notes

fairyvtale · 9 months

Note

I’ve been obsessed w the movie since seeing it! Could you write something for ryan gosling Ken! where reader (a Barbie lol) compliments him on something and he then start’s following her around like a puppy and she invites him over for a sleepover (Barbie’s never miss girls night but she’ll miss it for him) just fluff maybe some cuddles with Ken having his hair played w and some kisses I just need to give him some love thank you <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you are Kenough

ryan gosling! ken x f! reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

IT was a pretty normal day in the barbieland. you were chilling at the beach with your best friend, — allan. it isn’t surprising that you spend almost every second with him; you didn’t expect that it was going to change anytime soon. right now, you and allan were "drinking" your colorful drinks with paper umbrellas as decorations. it was a beautiful day (to be honest, every day in barbieland was just perfect).

“hi barbie!” you heard ken calling your name as you just smiled at him and waved.

“hi ken!” you have always liked Ken; he was hilarious, and sometimes he could be really sweet. “i really like your outfit today, ken, it suits you.” you smiled nicely, being honest with him.

“thank you, barbie, you also look pretty” he said, and you only smiled shyly at his compliment. allan sent you a surprised look because he didn’t know that you would like Ken. maybe it was fear that he would lose you (of course it wasn’t true). but at the same time, you knew that he was supporting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

barbie doesn’t knew that it was only the beginning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER this situation, Ken started to be your shadow; he was in every place you were. he always wanted to make you happy with compliments and sweet gestures. other barbies also found it sweet because he was just the perfect ken for you.

today was girls night at the stereotypical barbie’s dream house. you loved them, and you always have the best time with all barbies. but today you wanted to spend time alone with ken, you loved sleepovers with allan, so why don't you do it with ken instead? you find Ken standing on the beach doing nothing, so you come to him and poke his arm to get his attention.

“hi barbie! how are you?” he asked as you smiled at him.

“i’m doing fine, thank you. i was wondering if you want to have a sleepover with me today?” you asked him, wishing that he would say ‘yes’.

“as a girlfriend and boyfriend?” he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. you nodded excitedly, and he instantly agreed.

“what will we do as a boyfriend and girlfriend?” ken asked you as you two walked to your house.

“we can hold hands, we can kiss our cheeks, and we can cuddle,” you answered as he smiled at you sweetly, grabbed your hand, and kissed your cheek as you smiled flatter.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU two were at your house, sitting on your bed under the pink fluffy blanket. you knew that you skipped the girls' night, but you were happy to lay and cuddle with ken, and girls night was every night, so you could spend this one time doing something else.

you closed your eyes and placed your head on ken’s torso.

“i love to be your girlfriend, ken” you admitted with a shy smile.

“and i love to be your boyfriend, barbie” he said happily.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it was so nice to write it, cause it’s just a fluff and ryan as a ken was incredible!

i hope you liked it!

#barbie #barbie movie #barbie x reader #ken x reader #ryan gosling #margot robbie #imagines #barbie 2023 #fluff #request #requests are open #f!reader

3K notes · View notes

ryan-my-babygirl · 9 months

Note

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.

#ken x reader #barbie movie #barbie #the barbie movie #ken #barbie 2023 #headcanons #ryan gosling ken #ryan gosling #fem reader #ken barbie #ken x y/n

2K notes · View notes

poeticpascal · 9 months

Text

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt.

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet.

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before.

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement.

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.”

“Will you really come with me?”

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions.

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs.

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness.

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed.

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies.

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’.

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat.

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!”

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her.

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?”

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts.

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window.

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back.

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.”

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood.

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road.

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression.

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade.

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face.

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes.

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?”

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?”

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them.

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?”

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands.

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.”

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.”

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face.

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it.

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?”

She must see the slight panic in your eyes, as she quickly scrambles to reassure you.

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!”

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least.

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence.

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care.

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you.

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him.

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly.

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?”

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you.

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after.

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard.

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry.

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before.

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway.

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room.

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further.

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you.

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers.

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face.

He doesn’t fight his, either.

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it.

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion.

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two.

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change.

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.”

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice.

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry.

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart.

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.”

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.”

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard.

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face.

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.”

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own.

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it.

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment.

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined.

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x barbie!reader #poeticbarnes writes #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #barbie #barbie movie

1K notes · View notes

sunburstl0v3 · 9 months

Text

Prologue

✿ Ken x Fem. Reader x Barbie ✿

SUPER SHY

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 떨리는 지금도, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺

───────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

It was a beautiful morning in Barbie Land. The weather was perfect, sunny with no clouds in sight. Barbie, woke up joyful as always, jumping right into a shower she never skipped, and leaped to her closet readying herself for this perfect eventful day.

The blonde quickly dressed herself in a pink, white polka-dotted dress, with pink heels and a pink flower in her hair. It was perfect. Barbie's morning consisted of a quick breakfast of a cup of milk and a waffle with a dollop of whip cream, the perfect way to have breakfast! Finishing up her breakfast, she floated down to her car, like anyone else would.

"Hi, Barbie!" Barbie waved seeing another Barbie walking along the sidewalk, "Hi Barbie!" She replied. Oh, it was so perfect. As Barbie drove her pretty pink convertible, she greeted the Barbies on her way to the beach. It was another beach day with all the wonderful Barbies and Kens. Yet as Barbie was expecting a lovely morning sitting with other Barbies, chatting about how everything is just so perfect in Barbie Land but as she traveled closer to the beach, Barbie noticed a certain Barbie making a lot of noise.

"You don't understand." Weird Barbie spoke, clutching her overwhelming weird dress, with mismatched colors and stitches, "What don't we understand?" Doctor Barbie questioned, crossing her arms.

"Yeah! You're being a lot weirder than normal, Weird Barbie!" Lawyer Barbie said, "Yea!" Another Barbie chimed in. Weird Barbie frowned, gazing up at the sky, "It's gonna get a whole lot weirder sooner or later..." She muttered, confusing the Barbies but most of them barely paid any mind to her...as she was just off-putting. Then like a flip of a switch, Weird Barbie did the splits and rolled off the beach.

The rest of the Barbies watched as she tumbled away but their eyes instantly met with Stereotypical Barbie, her bright diamond eyes.

"Hi Barbie!" they all yelled in unison, "Hi Barbie!" she waved back, skipping down the sandy hill to the Barbies. "What's going on?" Barbie questioned, looking back at Weird Barbie exiting the beach, "Oh you know, just Weird Barbie being...Weird."

"So, everything is good?" "Everything is amazing!"

Soon after the music started and everyone, including the Kens, began their beach day, some played volleyball, and others had some kind of dance battle or swam in the beautiful blue sea. "Hey Barbie, do you know why Weird Barbie was being so much weirder than normal" throwing back a beach ball, "She said something about another doll joining us." Barbie said, Stereotypical Barbie gasped, "What are we doing!?" she yelled, missing the beach ball being thrown passed her, hitting a Ken in the back of his head.

"What do you mean?" Stereotypical Barbie rushed to sit down on the bleachers, other Barbies following after her, "If another Barbie is joining Barbie Land, we have to host an amazing party for her!" other Barbies murmured between themselves and suddenly getting excited, "Oh em gee! You're so right Barbie!" Author Barbie exclaimed, "How could we not!"

Stereotypical Barbie and Author Barbie began jotting down some ideas for the party which totally had a giant sleepover after.

The Ken's stood far, far away admiring the Barbies as always, "What are they talking about?" Stereotypical Barbie's Ken asked, pouting, "Something about a party." Ken replied, "I bet she's making an invite list, and I doubt you're on it." Ken's rival, Ken said.

Ken grumbled, looking away from the Barbies, "Barbie always invites me." yet Ken's eyes roamed back to Barbie, his Barbie. The way her perfect smile warmed his heart, and how even the slightest eye contact could put him in Ken heaven.

It was always a fact; Ken was undoubtedly in love with Barbie.

"Hey what's that?" someone asked, Ken turned around to face the ocean, and suddenly his face paled, the sky began getting darker, "Is it bedtime already?" His best friend, Allen asked.

"She's here."

"Ahh!" Ken looked next to him and there stood Weird Barbie, absolutely scaring him, "When did you get here?" but Weird Barbie ignored him staring intensely at the sky, "What's going on?" he questioned her, worriedly looking back and forth at the woman and the sky.

"She is arriving." as the words left her mouth, all the Kens gasped, making the group of Barbies look up, their eyes instantly going to the darkened sky, "Where's the sky...?" Stereotypical Barbie whispered, standing up from the bleachers and walking towards the ocean, "Hey Ken...What's happening...?" she asked worriedly, her blonde counterpart immediately did a 180, "Oh hi Barbie." Ken uttered as he fixed his hair making sure he looked really attractive to her.

The storm grew closer and closer to them, "We have to go." Weird Barbie said, backing away and rushing off the beach. Ken furrowed his eyebrows, fighting with himself in his own dilemma: leave for safety or be here with Barbie.

"Maybe we should follow her..." Ken frowned looking behind him and seeing other Barbies and Ken's leave all in fear of what is going on.

"Barbie?" Ken looked back at her, his blue eyes gazing at her full of concern. She was quiet, the giant blue sky she loved so much was a dark grey, large clouds forming together as they crept closer and closer to Barbie Land.

What happened to the sky?

Ken's face paled again, looking back and forth between Barbie and the sky, Ken frowned, "Barbie we have to go to the Dream House." Barbie blinked out of the random headspace and turned to look at Ken.

"Y-Yeah." they both ran away from the beach, hoping in Barbie's convertible, and making a quick getaway to Barbie's Dream House.

That night there was no dance, sleepover, party, or even Ken trying his hardest to impress Barbie.

It was bleak, it was nothing.

Barbie sat on the floor of her Dream House, her legs dangling off the ledge, as she gazed outside. Her blue eyes witnessed the darker clouds surrounding the beach more and more.

Barbie sighed, what was this feeling? Disappointment? Was this a sign about the new Barbie? No. All Barbies were perfect, smart, and happy.

But Barbie Land has never had a storm.

And then it started to rain. A crack of thunder made Barbie flinch, and then came a downpour of rain, coating the beach.

"It's okay..." Barbie whispered, her hands tightening around each other for comfort, "Tomorrow there will be another beautiful perfect day..."

With nothing left to do on this overwhelming day, she sat on her couch and waited till she couldn't hear the storms no more.

"She's here!" a loud yell awoke Barbie, jolting her up from the couch, a familiar voice yelled out again, and the sound of clapping, "She's here!! Hahah!" It was Weird Barbie who seemed to be crazy about this new Barbie. But anyway, Barbie lifted herself off the couch and floated down to the street, looking back up at the sky. Good, it was back to being blue and the sun was setting.

"Are you sure the new Barbie is here?" Diplomat Barbie asked, walking closer to her.

"Yep! I'm 1000% sure!" Weird Barbie smirked, her marked-up face scrunching. Stereotypical Barbie smiled, "Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting now should we."

Just a few minutes later, many Barbies and Kens huddled around the beach all staring at specific women. The woman, had her back turned to them, she was not what they were expecting...

"Welcome Barbie! This is Barbie Land!" Stereotypical Barbie beamed while she welcomed the new Barbie, excited to finally introduce her to everyone. She stepped closer to the woman, standing right behind her.

Barbie blinked, waiting for her new friend to turn and begin her new life here as a Barbie but she stood still watching the (plastic) ocean. Barbie frowned, shuffling to the girl's side and finally seeing her face.

[E/c] eyes, the new Barbie had glossy [e/c] eyes, she had eyes that seemed the sparkle as she gazed out admiring the sun, "Hello?" Barbie asked, finally the woman turned her head towards Barbie, startling her a bit.

"Hello..." she spoke, so soft that Barbie almost missed it, "Hi Barbie, welcome to Barbie Land."

The woman blinked, pouting, "I'm not Barbie, I'm [Y/n]."

───────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

taglist: @imogen-skye @samhomo @almostjollypizza @itstylersblog @meowkid1000 @urmomsbananabread

#SUPER SHY series #x reader #barbie #and ken #romance #barbie spoilers #barbie x reader #ken x reader #barbie movie #x fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 9 months

Text

Kenneth “Ken” Sean Carson x male reader

Smut drabble

Can you guys believe that Kens name is Kenneth?? What the hell,,,,, I loved the Barbie movie btw, I loved how worshippy Ken was, cuz what’s better than a guy that would kiss the ground you walk on.

Reader doesn’t know he’s like,,,, a doll I guess, they just think he’s the biggest himbo airhead in existence.

This was not proofread btw.

Kens bright blonde hair was soft between your fingers as you brushed your fingers through it, before tightening your hand into a fist as you pulled his head closer. Kens hands grasped at your thighs, his grip clenching and loosening over and over as he gurgled around your cock, wet sloppy noises filling the back room of the store you worked in. Pleasured moans left the blonde man on his knees in front of you, and you could catch his feet wiggling behind him in those ugly cowboy boots he wore. His hat had been thrown somewhere to the side so you could bury your hands into that blonde hair that was so light you were sure it had to be bleached, but as you pulled his hair you couldn’t see any sign of roots showing. Either he truly was the stereotypical dumb blonde, or he had a great hair routine. But his hair was too soft to be bleached as much as you were sure it was, so maybe he really was blonde. His name was even Ken, like those Barbie dolls you had seen your baby cousin play with.

It was very clear the guy had never given head before, but the way he moaned and slobbered over your dick made it just as good. Never before had you gotten such good head, Ken was just so enthusiastic about it, like pleasing you was all he could ever want. The first time you had muttered praise down at him, he had stared up at you in disbelief, like praise was something he had never heard before. His pupils are grown bigger and his lip had quivered, and then he dove on your length and swallowed all of it down in one go, like he had no gag reflex at all, sucking and slobbering over it to the point you had to bite down on your fist to stay quiet, so as to not moan so loud it alerted other customers or your coworkers.

What you didn’t know was that Ken really didn’t have a gag reflex, why would he have one? Hes a doll. Dolls had no need for that kinda thing. They also didn’t have a need for genitals, so it wasn’t like Ken could whip it out or let you go down on him, not that hed ever wanted to do that. Maybe it was the fact that Kens by nature were just accessories, there to better their Barbie and follow along to her every whim, hanging onto any bit of praise and positive attention they could get. But being here between your legs, his mouth and throat working your length with throaty noises, was enough to have Ken brimming with pride and a hot tingly feeling he couldn’t identify.

Every murmur of praise that left your lips had Kens hips twitching or his thighs clenching, even though there was nothing for him to clench around. You were sure you’d found the guy with the biggest praise kink in existence, so you kept going, brushing his hair out of his eyes and telling him how good he was, how pretty he was, how good of a boy he was. It seemed the more praise you gave him the more he preened and more effort he put into it, and to say you were amazed at how good he became so quickly? You couldn’t even put it into words.

Kens pretty blue eyes looked up at you as he swallowed down all you were worth, the tip of your length tickling the back of his throat, and where others would gag, Ken just hummed and looked up at you with wet eyes. His lashes were clumped together, but it only served to make him look even more needy and attractive. Kens throat clenched around you as he swallowed, and when he learned that action got you to moan, he kept doing it, almost milking you like he didn’t have any need to breathe.

Soon it was impossible to hold it back anymore, and you came down his throat, your head falling back against the wall you were leaning against as you ground your hips against Kens pretty face. Ken swallowed everything you gave him, wet gulps filling the tiny room you two were hiding in as he gulped and gulped, still looking up at you, his hands gripping the fabric of your pants.

He kept your softening length in his mouth as you released the rough grip you had on his hair, a pleased hum leaving him as his eyes fluttered, as you ran your fingers through his hair instead. “Such a good boy Ken, you did so well. Fuck, you’re so pretty, so amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so good at sucking cock as you, I just wanna keep you all to myself” you murmured in a post orgasm voice, the praise thick and heavy as it fell endlessly from your lips.

The praise seemed to be what did it for Ken, at least from your perspective. For Ken, hearing all those words from you as you petted him had that hot tingly feeling in his abdomen growing, more and more until it seemed to overtake his entire being. His vision went white as he swallowed around your flaccid length, eyes rolling back as that feeling overtook him. Kens entire body shook as he felt a sudden weight between his legs, a soft length of his own appearing, which quickly seemed to be filling up as you talked him through his orgasm.

Ken was still floating off somewhere as you pulled him to his feet, hugging him to your chest to let him calm down from such a powerful orgasm. To you at least, that was what it seemed like. Someone who came from the praise and sweet attention you gave him, but to Ken it was something completely different. He had no idea what to do with the hardening length between his thighs as he started rolling his hips into your thigh, whimpered moans leaving him as he buried his face into your shoulder.

You bit your lip as you hesitated for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “Why don’t you come home with me Ken? Just for a bit” you asked, both worried about how strong his reaction had been, as you feared maybe you had put him in subspace, but also because you didn’t want to see the blonde cute himbo go just yet. You barely had to ask before Ken was nodding into your shoulder, soft murmurs leaving him that he really wanted to go with you, please don’t leave him. So, after tucking yourself away, making yourself presentable, and grabbing Kens cowboy hat, you signed out of work and tucked Ken into the passenger seat of your car, starting the drive back to your apartment, Kens hand in yours as you kept muttering praise to the blonde, who only replied with soft whimpers and moans.

2K notes · View notes

ideas-live-forever · 9 months

Text

Business Trips With Ken!

inspiration strikes! i’m on a roll, i never usually write so much 😭. just some more ken headcanons/blurbs :))

send a request if you have one! i’m looking for some more ideas about what to write!

Ken LIVES to be around you

So when he learns that you have to travel for two weeks or so for your job, he’s a little bitheartbroken

The poor guy immediately assumes that he won’t even hear from you the whole time

You explain to him that you could still call him and talk every day, you just wouldn’t be in person with him for a little

He’s still very sad, but he does his best to be understanding

He helps you pack your bags and insists you bring a bunch of things you definitely don’t need for two weeks

“Y/n! You *have* to bring your favorite pillow!” Ken insists, pushing it towards you.

You take it in your hands and let out a soft laugh at his antics. He’s so worried about you, and you haven’t even left yet. It’s honestly adorable.

“The places I’m staying at have pillows, love. I’ll be fine.” You reply, your tone affectionate as you delicately set the pillow down.

“But what if they’re not as comfy? Then you won’t be able to sleep, so you might not be able to do work as well! And then you’ll get upset!” Ken persists in his actions, picking the pillow up again and hugging it to his chest. “Just take it, it’ll make me feel better. Please.”

How could you say no to that? Reluctantly, you pack the pillow in your suitcase, looking up to see a much less stressed out boyfriend.

“Okay, fine. Happy?”

“Very!” He says, smiling before he gets an idea. “While you’re at it, maybe you should bring this stuffed animal for luck.”

To your dismay, he holds up his favorite horse plush. His expression is so innocent and caring. It takes practically all of your willpower, but you manage to go without packing it.

You found that horse in your suitcase while on your trip

The next day, he insists on going with you to the airport, and he calls a taxi early in the morning for you two to get there

Ken doesn’t even let you NEAR your suitcase. He pulls it for you all the way to security

When its finally time for you to leave, he gets all teary eyed

Pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Call me as soon as you land, okay?” Ken says through sniffles, burying his head in your shoulder.

“I will. Promise.” You back away from the gif long enough to press a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. And we can call every day.”

Ken nods at that, blinking rapidly to try and stop the tears from really spilling down. He gives you a little smile, incredibly proud of you even though you have to be away from him. The noise of the bustling airport around you seems to draw you out of your sweet moment.

Teary goodbyes

He gives you a nice, long kiss on the lips before he lets go of you

When you finally go through security and he can’t see you anymore, he goes back home and texts you a ‘Safe flight!!! Love you so much!!’

You text him when you land, as promised, and he lets out a breath of relief

While you’re away, Ken is basically texting you all the time

Every time he sees something that remind him of you or he thought you might enjoy, he sends you a picture.

You answer him as soon as you have time too

And every day after work, you call him to catch up

He always picks up on the first ring with a “Y/n! I miss you :(“

If you’re in different time zones, he’ll definitely stay awake until unreasonable hours to talk to you

Until you make him hang up and go to bed

BUT if you have a rough at and tell him about it he will absolutely refuse to go to sleep until he knows you’re feeling better

He hates not being able to comfort you in person :((

Ken makes plans to pick you up when you land back home from your trip, but he can’t drive, so he calls a taxi again

You barely see Ken before he runs and hugs you, ignoring the weird looks he’s getting from the other people in the airport

He takes all your bags to the taxi and then sits next to you in the backseat, clinging onto your hand

Once you get home, he insists on you resting

“Ken, I should really unpack a little-“ You start as he practically pushes you into your room.

“No, you have to sleep! You were on a plane today. Get some rest. I’ll unpack. Then we can cuddle!” He says with a tone that sounds like he doesn’t plan on budging in his stance.

He keeps his promise

Ken unpacks all your bags as best as he can, putting things away correctly for the most part

Then, he joins you in the bed, grabbing you around you waist and kissing your forehead

Lots of ‘I love you’s

He falls asleep with you, excited to hear about your trip more in the morning

#ken x reader #barbie movie #ken carson #ken imagines #barbie #ken blurbs #ken headcanon #ryan gosling ken #stereotypical ken x reader #stereotypical ken headcanons

326 notes · View notes

winxanity-ii · 9 months

Text

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)

83 notes · View notes

actuallysaiyan · 4 months

Text

Heart To Heart(Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Bimbo!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, college AU, Emo!Nanami, Bimbo!Reader, reader is actually a sweetheart and smart, blowjobs, making out, alcohol mentions, Kento is a bit of an asshole in this one, fluff, mentions of trauma word count: 3k! pairings: Emo!College!Kento Nanami x Fem!Bimbo!Reader summary: you and Nanami have classes together in university, and he just thinks you screwed your way into these classes. he makes it known one day what he thinks of you, and you snap. but when you meet up at a party, things get spicy.

Nanami had himself convinced that you were bad news. Something about the way you were always applying that sticky lipgloss while looking at yourself in your cute Hello Kitty compact mirror just drove him insane. He had finally gotten himself into a very good university after leaving the sorcerer world behind, and here you were ruining his experience.

You were in quite a few of his classes, which surprises him. You don’t look like you know anything about finances or business, let alone simple arithmetic. You with your eyes so big and expressive, your lips just so juicy and pouty. How could you possibly know anything that he was working so hard on learning? How could a single thought run through that dumb head of yours?

And yet, you were so kind to him. Even when he brushed you off and gave you the cold shoulder, you were always there to lend a hand when you could. You were someone who would come to class with a box of baked goods to offer to everyone. You always had a spare pencil for someone, or an extra notepad to share. And you never ever said no to someone’s request to copy your notes whenever they had missed a class. In reality, despite your appearance, you were someone who just genuinely cared.

Still, Kento was often left fuming whenever he spotted you. He knew about the archetypes and stereotypes of those around him and even himself. He knew that people thought he was a freak for his appearance, and yet they would never know the horrors and trauma he had gone through. He keeps his hair long in the front, his hoodie is always pulled up whenever he gets the chance. He’s even wearing black nail polish and hardly ever washes off the leftover eyeliner and mascara.

The others look at him like he’s some sort of plague, and yet you don’t even glance at him like that. Your looks towards him are soft and sweet, but he just knows there is no way you wouldn’t trick a guy like him. Nanami has to remind himself that you’re just as bad as the others, and all the kind things you do for anyone, it’s all just a plot to have everyone under the spiked heel of your cute stilettos. You were a sweet girl, but underneath it all, Nanami was convinced you could scratch out his eyes with a swipe of your perfectly manicured nails.

Yet he could never really pull himself away from you completely. You always smell so good, and your lips look so plump and juicy. Kento swears he can smell your lip gloss from a mile away. You’re almost too good to be true, he thinks to himself often. You must have a trail of guys following you around, simping and moaning just for you. So Nanami figures it’s just easier to hate you and deem you unworthy of his presence or his words.

Things change one day when you’re partnered up with him for a finance class project. You sit at your desk, doodling something in your cute pink notebook. There’s a feathery pom pom on the end of your pen. Nanami rolls his eyes and scoffs as he sits down near you, not daring to even be that close to you. He keeps his distance, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Hiya Ken~” you coo at him, making his heart skip a beat at the softness of your voice.

Kento scowls, “It’s Kento. Not Ken.”

You pout softly, “Oh, yeah okay. Kento it is.”

You duck your head down a little, somehow feeling so self-conscious. Nobody has made you feel this way before. You’re dejected because you’ve always thought he was so cute, and now that you get the chance to shoot your shot, he’s rejecting you already. So you begin looking at the page explaining the project and you discuss things with him quietly. He seems so disinterested in what you have to say, his eyes flickering towards other people in the classroom. He wishes he could be partnered up with anyone else but you. He’d rather do the project alone if he’s being completely honest. You start to feel like you aren’t wanted at all.

“Listen, we don’t even really need to do any of this together. We can just work on our own parts and submit them together.” You suggest, your cheeks a little pink from not being able to do a simple project with the guy you like.

Nanami watches you carefully, “Hmph, I doubt you can even complete your side of things.”

Your heart aches at this. You know you don’t have the appearance of a scholarly type, but you do well in your studies. You worked so hard to get this spot in the university. You come from a small town, and you never really had much growing up. So for you to finally get this shot and to be able to treat yourself to cute things you’ve always longed for, it means the world to you. But you were growing a bit more upset with every passing moment.

You thrust the pen in his direction, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kento smirks, “Come on, there’s no way you really understand this material. Just admit that you got here by using your good looks and charm.”

This made you recoil. Your stomach was in knots from the thought of him implying that you fucked your way into this school. You frown and your big eyes fill up with tears. Suddenly, Nanami doesn’t feel so confident about what he’s saying anymore. He’s got guilt and regret rising up in his chest like acid.

“Is that truly what you think? You see a girl wearing pink and liking cute things and you think she’s fucked her way into university? Well screw you, Nanami Kento!”

You rise up from your seat and gather all your things. You excuse yourself to the teacher and make your way into the hallway. Tears slide down your cheeks, ruining the makeup you so meticulously put on this morning. You feel your stomach turning in knots, not sure how to even process all of this. You know you can prove him wrong, and you will.

ONE WEEK LATER

Despite the issues with Kento, you were still able to complete your side of the project and hand it in early. When you attended your classes, you ignored him. Your heart longed for him, but you were beginning to think maybe people were right about him. He’s just a freak. He’s mean and will probably cast a hex on you. Still, you think that people were always being too harsh. Just the way that Nanami had been with you. Judging people before getting to know them was always a bad habit that most people had, but you were someone who tried not to pass the judgement.

The weekend was fast approaching and the big party at the local frat house was what was on everyone’s mind. Everyone was going, and you knew that even Kento had been invited. Despite still feeling so sour after what had happened, you decide that you’re going to attend that party. And you were going to show him what he was missing out on. Just because you like cute things and wore makeup didn’t mean you weren’t someone smart and fun.

The night of the party arrives and you show up dressed in a sexy, tight pink dress. It’s strapless and hugs your curves in all the right ways. You talk to a few people, mingling as you get a few drinks into you. You’re not even really sure that he was going to show up, you were just feeling a little hopeful. The more drinks you had, the more you wanted him to be there so you could apologize about your outburst.

The moment he walks in the door, your heart stops and your breath hitches in your throat. He’s cleaned up, but he still carries himself the same way as usual. The hoodie up over his head, his bangs cascading down over one eye. You see that he’s cleaned up his peeling nail polish, and it seems like he’s applied a clean coat of mascara and eyeliner. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him put this much effort into his appearance. This makes you wonder if he’s hoping to meet someone here. You look away, your eyes darting down to the drink in your hands.

The music is loud and you try to drown all your insecurities in this drink. You wish he’d come talk to you considering you were much too shy now to approach him. He looks so good tonight too, and you were feeling drunk enough to try to shoot your shot again even if he had made it clear what he truly thought of you. So you just go snag another mixed drink and go to the dancefloor.

It’s not long before you bump into him as you’re on your way to the kitchen for a cup of water. Both of you are a little shy about this at first, and Kento can barely look you in the eyes. He’s mortified that he would bump into you after all the shit he’s said to you.

“Hey,” you say shyly. You drink some of the water.

He smiles sheepishly, “Hi…”

Neither of you really know how to proceed. But eventually it’s all bubbling up inside of each other. Kento fiddles with the guitar pick necklace that sits on his collarbone. You really look so cute tonight—no, you look so sexy. He’s never seen anyone look this good in his entire life.

“Hey Ken…erm, Kento…about the other day,” you begin but he stops you.

He smirks, “I kind of like it when you call me Ken.”

You blush at his words. You have always loved giving people nicknames. It’s just a way of showing you care. You take another sip of your water and giggle gently. Kento reaches up and brushes stray hair from your face.

“So what were you going to say?” He asks, leaning in a little closer.

You smile, “I wanted to apologize for the way I snapped. I guess it wasn’t right of me to tell you to screw yourself.”

It’s Kento’s turn to blush. He begins to explain himself, saying how he completely misunderstood you and judged you even before he got to know you better. He’s profusely apologizing and all of this is going straight to your heart. Before either of you can say anything else, you grab him by the wrist and you lead him to the nearest room with the lock on the door. This happens to be the bathroom.

Once the door is locked, you push him against the wall and kiss him hungrily. This is the moment you can truly feel his body against yours, and you realize that he is quite muscular. Kento groans as your tongue slides into his mouth, rubbing against his in the most sensual way. He’s had sex before, but never has it been this hungry and passionate.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging slightly to pull him even closer to you. You are so desperate to melt into every aspect of him. You want him, you need him more than anything else. You would forgo anything else in this world just to be forever in this moment with him.

“Ken, I think I’ve liked you since the moment I met you,”

Your confession hangs in the air, making his heart race. He didn’t even think someone like you could think twice about him. You’re so pretty and soft and you make him so tongue tied most of the time. Despite his anger and rude treatment towards you, he’s been in denial about his own feelings for you.

“Shit, I’ve been feeling the same. I guess I just couldn’t come to terms with it.”

You don’t let him say anything else, you just capture his lips with yours once more. He pulls you in closer, his large hands caressing your curves through that tight little dress. You moan into his mouth when his hands cup your breasts and squeeze gently. When you pull away to breathe, a string of saliva keeps you connected.

Without another word, you kneel in front of him. Kento cannot believe his eyes as you undo his studded belt and unzip his pants. Regardless of his own feelings of resentment, he’s always thought you had the prettiest lips. The perfect pair to give the kind of blowjobs you only see in the premium porn videos.

Your eyes widen when you pull out his length from the confines of his boxers. He’s not only lengthy, but he’s got the kind of girth that ruins sex with anyone else. You know now that you really don’t want to let him go at all. With a soft giggle, you lean in to kiss the dribbling tip. Kento grunts as he feels your slick lips on his cock. He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your pretty, soft tresses. You spend a long time just pressing sloppy kisses to his cock. Then you lick all the way down the base, your tongue licking at his balls now. He shudders under your ministrations, knowing it’s going to be hard to hold on if he lets you continue for too much longer.

The moment you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin taking him into your mouth, Kento knows he’s hooked to this treatment. He knows he’s going to have to fuck you so good to show you how sorry he is about the shit he said about you the other day. You begin bobbing your head up and down, swallowing around him. He lets you suck him with expertise for a little while before he tugs on your hair and pulls you back up to kiss him.

“Get that pretty ass on the counter,” he says as he picks you up. You barely have to do anything as he sets you on the bathroom counter. He leans into another fierce kiss, this time he’s really taking the lead.

Kento doesn’t even bother undressing either of you. He just shoves your dress up over your hips, his other hand busy playing with your soaked pussy. He smirks when he realizes that you’re this aroused just from a little kissing and sucking his cock. He loves that he has this effect on you.

“You this wet just from blowing me?” he teases as his fingers push your panties to the side. Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit in slow circles.

“Ken…” you breathe. You’re already so needy for him.

He spreads your thighs and spits into his hand. The saliva gets mixed with your own juices to coat his cock before he slides into you with one long thrust. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to pump into you. You’ve never ever felt this full in your life. All you can do is hold onto him and have him fuck you stupid.

“Please please…” you beg as the tip of his cock brushes against the sweet spot deep inside you. “Fuck me, Ken.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He picks up his pace, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer. You lock your ankles, keeping him in place. He hammers himself into you over and over, his breath hot on your face and neck as he grunts and groans.

“You gonna be my pretty girl?” he asks, locking eyes with you.

You feel so shy all of a sudden, “Y-yours?” You let out a moan when he thrusts into you particularly hard.

“Yeah, mine. You gonna be my pretty girl?”

Your mind is reeling from all this pleasure. The coil in your stomach is tightening fast, and the thought of being exclusively Kento’s girl seems to be pushing you further and further towards your peak. You gasp as one of his hands slips between you, rubbing your clit slowly and with precision. You can barely think straight at this point. The room is filled with the lewd, wet sounds of your skin slapping together with every harsh thrust.

“Gotta answer me, baby. Or else I won’t let you cum.”

You whine, “Ken, please. I just…I can’t…”

He chuckles darkly. He’s never had this much power during sex before and it’s turning him on. He knows that you’re already such a little cutie and a sweetie, but he could easily turn you into his perfect little spoiled princess. He begins to pull away, making your orgasm slowly subside.

“I’ll be yours! ‘Wanna be only yours!” you squeal, trying to pull him back in.

Kento smirks and then he nips at your lower lip, “That’s what I like to hear.”

He gets back into the rhythm you need to cum. His thumb rubs your clit, making your thighs shudder and shake around him. As the pleasure builds, you feel tears streaming down your cheeks. Your back arches as stars dance in your vision. A shaky breath falls from your plump lips before you cry out his name. Your silky walls begin to pulse and clench around his already throbbing cock, pushing him over the edge just behind you. Shots of his thick, hot cum fill your waiting womb.

Slowly, you both grind against one another to prolong the pleasure. Then you both still, just basking in the afterglow of the pleasure. Kento kisses you softly, using both his hands to wipe away your tears.

“I’m really sorry for that bullshit I said the other day. You’re a good girl,” He says, pecking your lips.

“It’s okay, Ken. I forgive you.”

You’re both interrupted by a loud knock, followed by a series of giggles and cackles. Your cover is blown, but neither of you really care. The only thing that matters is that you have each other.

Kento helps you freshen up and dress once more, and you help him tuck his softening cock back into his pants. Then, hand in hand, you both exit the bathroom. You’re all smiles as you leave the party, walking on cloud nine as you lead him back to your dorm for round two.

461 notes · View notes