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#because she came back for life in the dreamhouse!
curetapwater · 5 months
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I do wish the Barbie movie addressed her other friends more, outside of just the end credits. Aside from a cheap "haha Midge was pregnant once" joke. That's her first of many friends!!!!!! Pay her respect!!!!!!!!
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venusacrossthestars · 7 months
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barbies
Pairings- Dad!Daniel x Mom! Reader
WC-1.1k
Summary- Daniel does in fact not know how to play Barbies
f1 masterlist
A/N- anytime I can slander Tika I will. IYKYK
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Daniel had thought that he had the whole girl-dad thing down. He knew how to act during tea parties. He knew not to move during makeovers. He would sing, albeit terribly, during the Princes part of Disney song just so his little girl could focus on singing the Princesses part. He thought he had it all down, but there was one thing he couldn’t master for the life of him- playing Barbies. 
Everytime Charlotte asked him to play it always ended in frustration for both parties. It seemed that no matter what he did it was always wrong. On one occasion he had Robert, the Ken doll that was affectionately renamed, and Charlotte her Barbie- Margot.
 Daniel was laying on the floor, acting his part believing all was well. “Well don’t you look radiant today darling,” he said as he walked Robert into the Dreamhouse. 
This was all it took to set off the six year old, “No daddy! Robert doesn’t call Margot ‘darling’ he calls her babe and Margot calls him honey.” 
“Well why can’t he call her darling?” Daniel, genuinely curious as to why it mattered. 
“Because you always call mommy babe and she always calls you honey,” she stated it as the most obvious fact in the world. 
Daniel found it adorable that your daughter took notice of something as small as pet names and integrated it into her own little world. However, she wasn’t amused. “Daddy, you don’t have to play anymore, I can play by myself now.” She said, taking Robert out of Daniels hand. He didn’t have the courage to argue, knowing how particular she was when it came to playing with her Barbies. 
Later that night, long after Charlotte had gone to bed, the two of you sat in bed watching reruns of your favorite show. 
“Your daughter is very picky about her pet names for her Barbies,” Daniel tells you, remembering the incident that happened earlier. 
“Oh, is that so?” 
“Very much so, Robert only calls Margot ‘babe’ and she only calls him ‘honey’, and you want to know what she told me?” You hum in curiosity, Daniel continues, “its because those are the pet names we call each other. She then proceeded to relieve me of my Barbie duties.”
“As she should, playing Barbies is very serious business.” You tease back. “I was the same way.” 
“Why is it so hard to play dolls,” Daniel buries his head into his pillow. 
“Don’t worry honey,” you rub his back in soothing circles, “maybe one day you’ll get the hang of it.” 
“You never have problems when you play with her.” 
“You forget that I was a little girl once.” 
Every time Daniel, in his words, fucked up playing Barbies he noticed that Charlotte wouldn’t ask him to play dolls with her for a couple days. He didn’t want to sound childish, but it did in fact hurt his feelings. 
As usual, days passed before Charlotte asked him to play again. And as usual Daniel had somehow screwed up, but this was no ordinary screw up, this was monumental. He didn’t even know what he did wrong, things were going so well until they weren’t. 
“Mommy!” The little girl yelled, “mommy!” 
“What?!” Your voice carried throughout the house. 
“Daddy isn’t playing Barbies right.” She whined. 
In a matter of seconds you appeared in the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest, “what’s going on?” 
“I have no idea,” Daniel admits, “we’re sitting here and all of the sudden I’m not doing it right.” 
“Charlotte, baby, remember what I told you?” you remind your daughter. 
She nods in response, “I’m sorry daddy, I know you don’t know how to play Barbies.” 
Daniel looks flabbergasted at what his daughter has just said to him and looks at you through squinted eyes. “You told her I don’t know how to play Barbies?” 
“No, I told her you don’t know how to play the real version of Barbies, you think you know how to, but in reality you play the straight man way.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Baby, how about you and me show daddy how we play Barbies?” You ask your daughter, whose face lights up in excitement. She gets up and hurries over to her bin of Barbies to pull out your designated Barbie, Lisa. 
You move into the room and sit next to Daniel, “watch and learn from the master.” 
The three of begin to play and Daniel thinks all is normal, you are doing everything that he typically does, but things quickly take a turn. 
You walk up Lisa to Robert, “Hiiiii Robert, you look good today.” 
Charlotte, well Margot, quickly interrupts, “why are you talking to my man?” Daniels eyes widen, where did she learn this from?
“I was just giving him a compliment Marggie.”
Charlotte shakes Margot in faux rage, “how many times do I have to tell you that my name is Margot.” 
“Well I think its just the cutest nickname, don’t you Robbie?” You turn Lisa’s attention to the Ken doll Daniel is holding. Daniel doesn’t move or say anything. 
“Are you going to let her talk to me like that Robert?” His daughter- no- Margot questions. 
“See he agrees with me,” you move the dolls hand so it is now resting on Roberts shoulder.
This proceeds to set your daughter off. “I have had it with you and your flirting towards my boyfriend!” 
“Well what are you going to do about it?” You taunt. 
“I’ll show you what!” Charlotte exclaims and then lunges towards you and Lisa. 
Daniel just sits in shock, the noise of plastic colliding, your mock ow’s between giggles, and Charlotte’s laughter fills his ears. When he thought of Barbies he always thought of dressing up dolls, making little families, all that soft stuff. Not this. 
“You alright over there honey?” You ask your husband, who just continues to stare in disbelief  “Charlotte I think we broke your father.”
“I’ve never seen anyone play Barbies like this.” 
“Well this is how I’ve always played, but my mom did say once that I played…. Uniquely,” you shrug. 
“That was fun!” Charlotte exclaims, throwing herself into your arms. 
You cradle her close to your chest, “I’m glad, did you learn anything?” 
“Yeah,” Daniel responds, “that I truly know nothing about playing barbies.”
“This is mild compared to the scenarios I made up,” you admit. 
“This. Mild? What did you do to your dolls woman?” 
“I’m not telling you with such influenceable ears around.” 
“My God,” is all Daniel can manage out. 
“Hey, don’t judge me.” 
“I’m just rethinking my life choices.” 
“You asked me to marry you, you knew fully well what you were getting yourself into.” 
“Mommy?” Charlotte interjects, “can we watch one of those old barbie movies?” 
You groan. “They aren’t even that old!” You exclaim. “Which one did you want to watch?”
“The Island Princess one!” 
At that Daniel groans, “that’s the one with the annoying elephant isn’t it?”
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taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you
@arieslost @miaa1001 @babybadger @k3nmakyan @livelovesports @aspens-trees @yeetskeetstreet @racingheartsposts @emmma232 @isalovestaylor @imchiarashelby1 @m4dyi @melissayalene-blog @gothicwidowsworld @lizzieolsenfan86 @firestormsandlightning @erjn45 @evelyn-4034 @vkncgzxf @naaanasworld @ladyoflynx @bre99 @foulsongfest @teenagedramqueen @kstyles-06 @asparklysoul @kodzzukenn @snakelore @lochnoch @hhppw7 @whentheautumnleavesfall @gxuh @clarasmagic @xoxonoire @annahowardsworld @estellabookreader @user2604 @babysitter19 @dylan-obrienn24 @sadisticfries @cocote1410 @prettylittlels @itsbwokenln4 @amandaauroraelli @wargetter @happylittlereader @2502zena @bathedinheat @itsmeeluciie @olivyamarvelgirl @justtprachisblog @its-cat-eyes @embonbon @nickxcorpse @accnt-1 @cosmoscoffeee @phantomxoxo @caramelahamilton @inejismylife @iloved111lfs @caseket @selsbackyard @alex0808 @blueberrysmoothie673 @sergantbarnesbitch @a-disturbing-self-reflection @bethiebeth12 @thereisa8ella @giada-chan @slaygirlbossworld @chuchiestpt
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moonymanoush · 9 months
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Barbie Movie Review
Hello everyone and welcome back! Before I give my own thoughts on the movie, I want to acknowledge all the critics that have been primarily focused on calling this film on being “woke, feminist, liberal, etc. etc.” The movie is literally called Barbie — if you expected a conservative trad wife film where the girl is there for sex appeal or in order to further the male protagonist’s story that’s your own fault! Every iteration of Barbie focused on the doll itself and its ability to have literally every career possible while Ken was little more than an accessory. Even when viewers mention Barbie's Life in the Dreamhouse as an example of Barbie and Ken’s romance, they do not acknowledge that Ken has no aspirations, career, or life outside of being Barbie’s boyfriend. This is only to say, that this movie had a very clear trajectory — it just doesn't make sense if I show up to a movie like Fast and Furious and leave complaining that the film didn’t spend enough time on romance.
Beyond that, I went into the movie expecting a misandrist film because of the amount of feedback I had seen online prior to watching it. But it was honestly so kind to men. The executives at Mattel are treated as comedic characters, the kens are himbos, and Allan is an ally. Even at their most patriarchal, all the men are seen at most as misguided — not as true antagonists or villains of the film. Despite being a funny character whose dialogue I appreciated, Will Ferell is also a perpetrator of the system. Immediately after America Ferrera pitches her average Barbie idea, he shoots it down but only accepts it once it’s backed up by a man who says it's actually a good idea. It mimics reality in that a woman is never respected the same way a man is — ideas are only worthy of praise after validation from a man. Instead of seeing Will Ferrel telling President Barbie to call him mother as insulting to the actual creator and mother of Barbie – the doll and the girl –, it’s played off as a joke. The Kens also get an entire arc of self-discovery and realizing who they are on their own instead of in relation to Barbie. Honestly, I was very unsatisfied with how men were treated in the film because even after taking Barbie’s house and brainwashing her friends, Ken gets the apology and the comfort even though his primary motivation came from unrequited love.
The media continues to push the messages that stalking and coercion are appropriate gestures used to show love to a woman. For instance, in The Notebook Noah (the male lead) hangs off of a Ferris wheel, interrupting Allie’s (the female lead) date with another man, and threatens to kill himself by letting go and falling to his death should she not agree to go on a date with him instead. This is a direct representation of coercion and completely disregards ‘no means no’, making Allie feel as though she has a duty to go out with Noah. It further reinforces the idea that a woman has the responsibility to keep a man happy and her own wishes and desires come secondary to his. In addition, not only do these types of scenes condone behaviour such as rape, harassment, stalking and coercion on a male audience, but they also impact women’s view of what a loving and healthy relationship entails. I hate to go on a tangent about a separate film — but the message being consistently pushed is that persistent behaviour is romantic and men are almost owed a relationship.
Misogyny is an underlying theme in most media, portraying women as stereotypes. Women face the juxtaposition of being “not like other girls” while aiming to be viewed as conventionally attractive. The issue is that media, and particularly films, spread the message of misogyny on a subconscious level and consumers who regularly watch these films will internalize this inherently sexist bias. In the movie She’s All That (1999), the main character Laney undergoes a makeover and exchanges her smock for a tight-fitting dress to be perceived as more conventionally attractive. Suddenly, Zack, the male lead, finds her beautiful because she has adopted a certain level of femininity despite the movie pushing the message that she’s ‘not like other girls’. The propaganda in the film pushes the idea that if a woman is not feminine enough, she will not be desirable. By the end of this film, both of the main leads are classic stereotypes of what their gender demands of them. Many movies follow the same formula, a nerdy girl (who is beautiful by all means) catches the attention of a popular boy and changes herself so he wants her. The defining feature is that she never truly changes her appearance for herself.
Further, this isn’t an isolated incident or a recent trend in the media where women aren’t written as anything other than two-dimensional and vapid. Legends have been told from the beginning of time punishing women for the crime of existing. In “Spiders in the Hairdo”, Jan Harold Brunvand's Encyclopedia of Urban Legends observes that “In a thirteenth-century English exemplum a vain woman who was habitually late for mass because she spent too much time arranging her hair was visited by the devil in the form of a spider that attached itself to her coiffure.” This goes to show that there is a definite religious interpretation of these legends, due to many religions condemning vanity. Self-obsession is seen as a form of idolatry where they compare themselves to the greatness of God, distancing themselves from religion and faith. (Living Faith: Daily Catholic Devotions) The woman is late to mass — a religious showing of faith in God — because of her vanity, ergo that very quality is something to be condemned and punished.
Another interpretation is purity culture and the belief that a woman who takes care of her appearance is doing it to impress men. This ties closely with religion, but it involves the belief that women who are sexually active or are around the opposite gender are something shameful. A man sleeps around and is a stud, a player — a woman doing the same is a whore, a slut, a hussy. The patriarchy reinforces structural violence against women by projecting discriminatory gender roles that often place limitations on how far they can go. In “Curses! Broiled Again!” Jan Harold Brunvand's Encyclopedia of Urban Legends notes, "Besides this technological naïveté, the story comments on youthful vanity and carelessness.” Brunvand states that the woman in this legend, and the one before it, are young, careless girls who care more about their beauty than any internal qualities.
Women aren’t allowed to have their own characteristics, careers, or any aspirations that don’t involve marriage and children. A simple reflection of women existing outside of the scope of being someone’s wife or mother is enough to enrage the simplest of men, which is why Barbie has received so much backlash. I generally find it upsetting that men refuse to engage in media that criticizes them. Women watched this film and analyzed every bit while men focus on mojo dojo casa house and insulting any female leads.
My overall favourite quotes:
“We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back to see how far they’ve come”
“Women hate women, men hate women. It’s the one thing we can all agree on.”
“I’m a man with no power, does that make me a woman?”
Another scene worth commending is the one with Barbie telling the older woman “You’re so beautiful.” her response is “I know it.”
Regardless, this film criticizing the system while being created by a multi-billion dollar corporation is partially hypocritical to me. I would've appreciated seeing the struggles of intersectionality addressed as well as capitalism, but the men in charge are seen as funny little men who aren't actively exploiting the working class and promoting the ideology of consumerism. This movie isn't meant to change your whole reality or provoke a strong hatred because it’s very much a surface level analysis of a woman’s role in society. It could’ve been better but the criticism and backlash strawmans the main point of the movie. Overall, a fun watch! Let me know your thoughts too!
Sorry for being massively inconsistent but hopefully more posts to come soon!
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gamerbearmira · 2 years
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Mirabel plays sims with her family
OKOKOK before I get back to drawing
Mirabel gets a dollhouse. A magic dollhouse. You know those giant Barbie Dreamhouse dollhouses??? Yeah that, but Casita. It opens and closes, like those playsets that open like a book and you can play more. The bed rooms are a bit limited than usual. And inside are dolls. The family doesn't really know about it; it's hidden somewhere in the nursery; a hole in the wall.
Casita showed it to her; some of the wall planks opened, and revealed the dollhouse. Mirabel sees it and just thinks its a nice little present from Casita. BUT being a 5 year old who was just traumatized, she doesn't want to share, not even with her sisters. So she never tells anyone about it.
With the doll house, there are dolls of course; of her family members. She thinks they're cute and takes VERY good care of them. Regularly cleans them, and at one point when she gets better at sewing she starts making doll clothes. She plays house, or 'Casita' as she calls it with them; she doesn't know that moving the dolls amd making them do things actually affects her real family members (except for her own doll). The dolls DO change whenever a family member gets older or something changes about them etc.
She does find it weird how everytime she comes back to play, the dolls are in different rooms from where she left them. And nevermind the fact that the Bruno doll is shoved inbetween the wall and painting. (She regularly takes it out and cleans it, setting out in the open; Bruno has to speedrun back to his room every time).
Now the magic magic part. It wasn't just a playset with dolls. There was a book, a journal. Shes pretty smart and with her ton of freetime, she picked up on reading in the library and therefore is a couple levels higher than an average kindergartener. Flipping through the book she see's stories. Small stories that are similar to her families day to day life, what they think, how they feel etc etc. She uses the stories and acts them out with the dolls; only thing is, if she doesn't like how some of the stories go, so she 'edits' them (takes a pencil and changes the plot), and changes them so they're much happier.
Mirabel doesn't find out its magic till much later. Then sge starts using it to her and her family's advantage. And no one ever finds out.
Fun fact this ain't came to mind because of this image:
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Not even kidding, I literally saw this and thought of sims
Another idea that was scrapped for this AU was that The family got stuck IN the dolls in the dollhouse Casita, and Mirabel was just left alone with them. She would’ve been older, being 10 or 11 (after Antonio’s birth). She keeps up with the dolls and cares for them but she never knows that they’re her family because they can never move whenever she’s around. Didn’t know how it would go story wise though lmao
OK BYEEEEE
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luminouslumity · 1 year
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THOUGHTS ON: BARBENHEIMER
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Finally got the chance to see both (specifically, Barbie, Oppenheimer, and then Barbie again) and I'm glad I did! Watching them back-to-back was certainly an experience and I'm not even joking when I say they really made me think about life and all that it entails.
As someone who grew up on the old animated Barbie movies, I had a lot of fun watching the new film, especially when it came to all the doll jokes and references had me laughing more than once (Magic Earring Ken, anyone?). Kinda mad they didn't have any references to the animated movies though, or at least none that I'd noticed.
Speaking of Ken, wasn't sure about him being the villain at first, but I can see what they were trying to do and I thought it worked pretty well all things considered, that Kens have just as much of a right to live alongside the Barbies as the Barbies do them and not just in the shadows of each other. If this film is anti anything, I'd say it's anti-Patriarchy as well as anti-Matriarchy. Preachy, sure, but understandable. Really, I'm more annoyed with how this apparently went over so many people's heads even with how blatant it was; seriously, President Barbie even says the message of the film after the Kens fail, so how anyone could've misinterpreted it is beyond me! The only thing that comes to mind is when the Narrator says that the Kens will be treated just as well as women are treated in the real world, and to be fair, that statement alone can be interpreted in a lot of ways depending on certain factors, but I don't know, I feel like that should be a wake-up call more than anything.
Barbie herself was also really interesting, though throughout the film, I found myself wondering if she was meant to be the Original Barbie with an upgraded look or just a random Barbie who's basically just an amalgamation of all the others (like she says, she's what everyone else thinks of when they think of the doll). Either way, this certainly adds a whole new layer to the relationship between her and Ken because keep in mind, when the film says that Ken was created for Barbie, they mean it literally.
Going into a bit of history here, Ken Carson was created in response to the backlash Barbie was facing two years after her own creation for the horrific crime of... *checks notes* being single. Since then, Ken has had a few jobs of his own, but it's still nothing compared to Barbie's—this even becomes a joke in the Life in the Dreamhouse series, where the Ken in that series worships the ground Barbie walks on. Probably literally. This man didn't even get his own car until 2012! Then there was the whole seven-year break-up incident because Ken apparently didn't want to put a ring on it (yeah, Barbie has in-universe lore and it goes hard!) so keeping all this in mind, it's no wonder Ken seems to be as attached to Barbie as he is in the film, all while also struggling with his own identity as an individual.
Yes, I probably am looking too deep into a children's film about dolls coming into the real world. This is my life now.
The Mattel scenes were definitely one of my favorite things about the film, especially with how dedicated the CEO is when it comes to his job and how he genuinely wants what he believes is best for everyone, but my favorite part are definitely the scenes with Ruth, which absolutely had me crying! And hey, glad to see I was at least partially right! She made an appearance, just not in the scene I thought it was going to be (also, apparently the sweet old lady on the bench isn't even Barbara, it's costume designer Ann Roth).
Narrators also tend to be hit-or-miss for me, but I thought it worked really well in this film! I especially loved how self-aware the story is and how if you're going to try and make Barbie look ugly, Margot Robbie isn't the way to go. And the cutaway to Depressed Barbie? Hilarious, but now I low-key want that to be a thing lol! And just the world in general was super fun!
Honestly, if I had any complaints about the film, it would absolutely be the pacing. Sasha in particular seemed largely unnecessary and her turnaround to at least tolerating Barbie happened way too quickly, even if she did only want to help for her mom's sake. It would've been nice if the film had had at least one or two scenes where she realizes that while the Barbie brand has its issues that deserve to be addressed, it's also not as bad as what she'd originally thought it to be. And also, it would've been great to just see more of this world in general; after all, Barbie and Ken only spend time in LA for less than a day, and even then, it's only for a few hours at most.
Basically, I wish the film had been longer, but what we got was still great.
As for Oppenheimer, I never really have much to say about biopics, but I love history in general and am always fascinated when it comes to warfare and all of the ethical questions that come with it. This is also the first Nolan film I've actually watched, so I knew this was going to be an interesting time, at least. Let me start by saying that the special effects with the bomb dropping and tense silence afterwards were beautifully done and I thought the use of black-and-white for some scenes and color for others was a really nice touch too, as well as the fact that the film went beyond just WWII and that we get to see Oppenheimer deal with the guilt he'd faced afterwards. I also always forget that Einstein would've still been alive during the time most of the film takes place, so his appearance was certainly a surprise, but a pleasant one nonetheless. I was also wondering in what context the "I am become Death" line would come up, so the fact that the film actually addresses that it comes from Sanskrit rather than suggesting it originated from Oppenheimer himself was such a great detail! Overall, a great film about a very complicated man!
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mermaidsirennikita · 1 year
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could be that that i'm getting a bit of a skewed perspective because of how my social media is curated but i'm seeing as much if not more hype around margot than ryan at this point? especially now that promo has kicked off and margot has some of the best red carpet promo styling that i've seen in recent memory.
Yeah, idk. I've seen a lot of hype around her outfits, and to be clear, these aren't just great promo outfits, but the BEST styling choices Margot has selected in basically her entire career. She is NOTORIOUS for having horrid style, lol, which I think is more noticeable because she's obviously a gorgeous, very conventionally attractive woman. Who should be easy to dress! But Kate Young is, frankly, super bad at her job and somehow botched it constantly (and not just with Margot). Andrew Mukamal started styling her more this year, and while I wouldn't say he's like... Law level, he really seems to have shown out for the Barbie press tour.
But, idk--Ken is having so much official promo dedicated to him. There's the "I'm Just Ken" song/promo tour. He's got the memorable parts of the teasers--the cheesing for the camera, the moment with the doctor, the sleepover. And the thing is, lol, Barbie is just as bland as Ken in doll form; she has more going for her, really, in that she has all the jobs. Ken just tends to get bumped up a lot in terms of being the Fun One, and to be fair that was a thing before this movie (Life in the Dreamhouse is another time I can remember Ken being the "meme worthy" one) but here it's even bigger.
I really do tend to wonder if some of it does have to do with Margot's career and rep kind of taking several hits before this. Although I loved Birds of Prey, it got zero support from DC and came out at a pretty unfortunate time; Amsterdam not only bombed, but made her look bad/hypocritical; she's gotten slammed a lot for not only the Russell association, but fawning over Brad Pitt in the press when backlash against him is rising; the 1920s movie was, I'll be honest, not only one of the worst movies I've seen in my life, but like... the pinnacle of an actress going so hard for an actor and ending up looking cringe as hell. You saw the attempt at rallying around her performance in online spaces, but she was never in serious contention because the truth was that the movie did laughably bad and her role was also really, really bad.
Whereas Ryan has been at this shit forever and had every form of image he could have without ever getting too bad. He was a teenybopper, he was a Rising Serious Star, he was a heartthrob, he was a part of a major tabloid relationship, he stepped back and settled down and became known as a wife and kids guy, he's done action, he's done comedy, he's tried real hard for an Oscar but, and this may be crucial lol, took time off after that didn't work. I'm not a stan, but I think he's been pretty smart about his career (and of course, had the benefit of being a cis white dude).
Idk. Margot just had a lot of bombs in a row for an actress in this stage of her career, in one case a LEGENDARILY major bomb; and we all know how harsh execs can be. But all of it could be my social media feed as well, where I think a lot of my mutuals are kind of over her. And part of it could also be the execs not knowing how to sell this movie and using Ken to be like "look how funny it is" because feminism is scary, even when it's the most basic, simplistic feminism on earth as Greta movies tend to specialize in.
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feyreandhercourt · 3 years
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My Spicy-Hot Take
The difference between theorizing for TOG and ACOTAR is theorizing for TOG made, like, sense. Things certainly evolved through the series but there were a lot of seeds and bits of foreshading laid into the first few books, and that comfortably sustained the next several hundred thousand words. I'm not saying every scene was planned, and it didn't need to be. It certainly helped that it followed one (main) character who had a distinct arc outside romance.
ACOTAR... does not have that. I don't say this in a hating way, at all. But ACOTAR is, IMO, Sarah's world to just do whatever the fuck she wants. Okay we have a bat winged race? Cool, now we're gonna do it with angel wings. Something emotional happens in SJM's life? We can put a few nods in it. Clothing? My girl is in leggings and sweaters. Yes, Feyre can open an art studio. Build-your-own dreamhouse. We want to explore Illyrian culture? Lit. Actually wait we don't want to get to into that? Backtrack. Moriel (tho was it ever a thing)? Elriel? Elucien? Gwynriel? Whatever blows her hair back. An entire set of magic maguffins that people somehow completely forgot about? Why not! (I cannot emphasize enough, this is something I can't see having been in TOG, at least not the way it was handled.) Suicide vows? (FEYSAND BB WTF) oh guess we should go back and have Amren say that's dumb af. Who lives? Who dies? What is Vassa up to? Who knows! The answers are literally always changing
Some things are obviously planned. Nessian was very clearly always gonna happen (though we do have the flames-dresser>>lucien flames theory, so even that isn't really true, let alone how the sisters were characterized in acotar but I am digressing upon digressing). But beyond that, ESPECIALLY with shipping (and I gotta say, I feel like we as a fandom focus on shipping because I honestly cannot tell you what the plot is going forward outside of romance--are we dealing with the human queens, Vassa's thing, the potential Rhysand-dictatorship, the Illyrian uprising??) we have NO solid foundation. Sarah is changing her mind as she is writing. What seems foreshadowed in one book can be tossed by the wayside in the next book.
And this is, I cannot emphasize enough, FINE. It's her story, and as long as she's having fun, more power to her. But there's no point twisting ourselves into pretzels over what the text says (especially from more than one book back) because this is EVOLVING in a clearly unplanned way. Again, I repeat, this is FINE. And I'm not saying don't ship your ships. Ship them. Draw them. Write fics. It keeps the fandom alive and fun. By all means, theorize. Draw text evidence. Spice it up and theorize about whatever the plot is, too.
But the holier-than-thou subtext of a lot of these posts is EXHAUSTING. No one is wrong for what they ship. And no one is "right" because SJM could literally decide ya know what Elain was just a proxy for Azriel and Lucien's repressed feelings for each other and they ride off into the sunset. (Or dawn court, I suppose.) There's no "but actually the text says this" because, guys, the text is super inconsistent. Which is just the nature of SJM writing an explosively successive series that definitely came about when YA was different vs her other series that was planned out for like... a decade.
I love theories. I love text analysis. I read stuff I don't agree with, and I'm just happy to be part of an active fandom. But play nice and accept that SJM is probably gonna invent robots at some point in Prythian.
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jobrookekarev · 3 years
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The Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine
T.S. x Jolex Week 2021 hosted by @thejolexgroupchat
Chapter One of One
Words: 4285
Summary: Jo was an intern at the hospital, having just gotten out of a bad relationship. Alex was the man whore set in his ways, but they ended up falling in love, And Alex is the best thing that’s ever been hers.
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.
Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson. 
Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Eli Stevens, and Alexis Stevens.
Rating: General Audiences, 
Additional Tags: Taylor Swift, Mine, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, Cute Kids, Children, Pregnancy, Ferry boats, Beaches, Ocean.
Read at AO3
Read at FFN
AN: Fun fact the top photo in the poster is my photo from when I was at Ocean Shores last month! I do not own any of Taylor Swift's music or the lyrics to Mine.
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The intern and fellow, although technically Jo was a 2nd year resident and Alex was an attending now. They both left their past and never looked back. After running away from her marriage with Paul and after everything with Jason, Jo was hesitant to get into a new relationship. Alex had his own fears, he had been married once, and Izzie left him, but he knew that Jo was special, and he was willing to risk it all for her. 
Intern Jo knew that Alex wasn't like all the other guys she was with before, he got her like no one else did, and she knew he would never hurt her. After everything they've been through together, she could hardly believe that they'd found something so good together. Falling in love with him was as easy as the crooked smile gave her every day. She had seen that look of love before on the faces of other men, but Alex was different. Alex was stupidly, affectionately, head over heels in love with her, and she couldn't help but love him the same. 
“Can you believe it?” Jo said as she smiled up at him from where her head was on his chest as they laid on the couch together. 
“Believe what?” Alex asked, his hands stopping from where he was playing with her hair.
“Just this,” Jo said as she gestured around the room before looking up at him.
The pizza and beer were left out on the coffee table, a movie is playing on the TV that neither of them were paying attention to. It was a typical night at their house together, but Jo couldn't help but think about how much she loved this and how much she loved him. She didn't have to explain herself to Alex. He just looked down at her with that crooked smile. He was just as much in awe of the life they created together, the home they had, and the love they have for each other as she was.
“Do you remember the date we had on the beach a while ago, when we were first dating?” Jo said, looking at him again as his fingers began to braid her hair. 
“Yes,” Alex said, smiling at her as he tilted his head. 
“That was the first time you put your arm around me,” Jo said as she smiled at him, remembering it all.
They had made plans for a beach day, but it was too overcast and cloudy to lay in the sun, so they just ended up walking along the shore. She remembered how his jeans were rolled up into cuffs with his white t-shirt and the flowered yellow sundress she wore that flowed in the breeze. The water was cold as it came up over their ankles, but they kept walking and talked about anything and everything. Jo remembered the way he laughed and threw his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her in, and she remembered the way she laid her head on his shoulder. Everything seemed so perfect at that moment.
Things were so good now too. She looked up at Alex again, and she couldn’t help but be filled with love for him. He was so good to her, and she was so happy with him.
“Alex Karev, you are the best thing that's ever been mine,” Jo said as she leaned up and wrapped her arm around his neck as she pulled him into a kiss. 
His lips smiled against hers, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as her fingers tangled in his hair. The movie and the beer were forgotten about after that in favor of lips against skin as she pulled off their clothing and made him her own. 
I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch, The moment, I can see it, yes, yes, I can see it now, Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing, that's ever been mine.
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It was a typical Saturday in the Loft and they both had the day off. They spent the morning being as lazy as possible, barely even getting out of bed other than to grab coffee and breakfast before they were both getting tangled up in the sheets again. When they finally got up, Jo smiled at the way he automatically tossed her his old t-shirt and he slipped it on before they both got out of bed. She gets out of bed and goes over to collect their mail as Alex collected the numerous dishes that were scattered around while she sorted the mail into piles of bills. 
Alex groaned as he started the water in the sink. “We should have sprung for a dishwasher when we had the chance.”
“We barely had room for the stove and the fridge,” Jo said as she kept sorting.
“Well, maybe it's time to start looking at other places. I mean, you want to apply to a fellowship in Boston, and even if we do stick around here, it'll be hard to make space for a baby. Besides, kids should have a yard and a play center, just space for them to run around, you know,” Alex said with a shrug and he turned off the water and started scrubbing as Jo paused from where she was sorting the mail. 
Sure they had talked about kids. They had even talked about maybe trying for a baby after the wedding. All things considered, they were in a good place. Alex would follow her wherever and let her take on the workload with her fellowship. He even joked about taking the year off to be a stay-at-home Dad. Having a baby now would be a good thing, and they were ready, but just the thought of getting pregnant, having an actual baby, and moving into a house with a yard, it just all seems too real. It wasn't just an idea that they kept talking about and Jo wasn't sure how she felt about it yet. 
“Well, let's pay the bills before we start adding other expenses to our finances,” Jo said, trying to brush it off as she looked around and gestured to the pile of bills in front of her. “Besides, I don't think we should sell the Loft, we should keep it and maybe we could rent it out.”
“I thought you said you didn't get attached to places?” Alex asked, looking over at her with raised eyebrows.
“This place is different,” Jo said, looking around and the brick walls that had seen so much of their relationship. “It's home.”
“Yeah, it's home,” Alex agreed as he caught her eye and gave her a soft smile.
“Do you remember the ferry ride back to Bainbridge Island and the Dreamhouse after I showed you this place? You pulled me out onto the observation deck and we watched the city lights get further away,” Jo said as she let the memories take her back. 
She remembered the cold ocean breeze of the night as they stood together on the deck pressed against the railing. The sound of the ocean waves and the ferry filled their ears, but she remembered the way Alex looked at her when she told him she loved him and the way his lips felt against her. That night they agreed to make this place their home.
“It was such a beautiful night,” Alex said as he remembered, he looked at her, but his eyes glazed over as he remembered too. “The city lights sparkled on the water and everything was so peaceful. I know we had been fighting for weeks and we hadn't had a quiet moment together and I just wanted to spend some time with you, alone. I was so in love with you that night. I’m still am so in love with you and it makes me happy to know that you’re marrying me soon.” 
Jo looked down at the way that the diamond sparkled on her hand, just like the light sparkled on the water that night. She loved her ring from the moment she saw it. It was a princess cut, a nod to the annoying nickname he first gave her, but it was what she had always wanted. She had told Alex in passing before they even started dating that she wanted just a simple diamond. She wanted it to be large enough, so it was a little flashy, but small enough not to get caught on things. 
The ring Paul gave her had been large with several diamonds. It was so big and fancy, but she was constantly getting it caught on things. She even lost one of the diamonds in the band, and she tried not to remember what happened because of that. She never thought she'd get engaged again, but here she was, wearing the ring of a man who loved her, and Alex’s ring was nothing but perfect. 
She wondered if that night on the ferry with the night that he decided to propose to her, he always said that he knew he wanted to marry her from the beginning. He told her about the night that she was walking around naked and got caught when Meredith came over. He didn't know it at the time, but as she went to go back upstairs, the house was quiet enough that she heard the words he said to Meredith. That he was going to marry her, and her heart still fluttered at the memory. 
The night on the ferry was a different night of proposals, of house and home proposals. It was the night that Jo went all in with him. The night that she wanted him to be hers, and she made it happen. He accepted and they built a life together. Their life together started that night on the ferry. 
“We leaned against the cold green railing and you wrapped your arms around me as we watched the city,” Jo said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist the same way he did with her that night. “I was so in love with you in that moment, and I still am, because you, Alex Karev, you are the best thing that's ever been mine.”
Alex just smiled his crooked happy smile at her and turned his head back to kiss her. She loved that he was hers.
Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe, for the first time. You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter. You are the best thing, that's ever been mine.
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Jo had just gotten home from work after a long day of surgeries. It was 2:30 a.m. and all she wanted to do was crawl in bed when she got home. She could feel the tension in the Loft the moment she walked in and when Alex looked at her, she just knew. He had his suitcase half packed sitting on the bed, toiletries, and socks, and shirts were scattered around him. All of his favorite things were tucked away in his suitcase. Then he sighed looking down at the floor before he looked up with her. She knew then that he was leaving. 
She could see the weight of the world on his shoulders in the way he looked at her as he grabbed her hands and led her over to the bed. He gently had her sit down so he could explain it all. Jo sat there in shock as she took in his words. He had kids, twins with Izzie. Not just one child, but two, two five-year-old children that he had with Izzie. She could barely wrap her head around it. She just replayed his words in her mind. Two kids, Alexis and Eli, that Alex had with Izzie. 
He had a family, a wife, despite the ex part, and two children. It was all he ever wanted. A wife and two kids, that's what he always talked about. She thought that he would have that with her. She was ready, they had even started trying for kids, but now he had all of that without her. Her whole life just turned upside down and she thought she was going to be sick. 
“Jo, just take a deep breath,” Alex said as she could feel his hands on her knees and saw him kneel in front of her. “Do I need to get the puke bowl?”
Jo moved her hand from where she had pressed it against her mouth and shook her head before she looked at him. “You're leaving to go be with your kids, aren't you?” 
She could tell his answer by the way he just looked down and let out a sigh. He looked at his hands, looking down at his wedding ring for a second before he twisted it around his finger. Alex never played with his wedding ring. That was her nervous habit. He never played with it unless he was taking it off for surgery. He put his fingers on it, and she knew he would take it off. Jo couldn't sit there and watch him give her his ring. She couldn't sit there and watch him leave her.
Her entire life, her first instinct when things got bad was to run. She always ran and this time, she didn't even have to think about it. She just ran. She ran past him and out of the Loft. She ran out of the apartment building and out into the parking lot. She didn't know where she was going, but the cold night air felt good in her lungs. She ran past their cars when she realized she didn't have her keys or anything else and took in a deep breath of cold air, pausing just for a moment.
“Jo,” Alex called out to her as she looked around. He caught her wrist and pulled her back to look at him.
“You're leaving me,” Jo said, her voice breaking with her words, and she didn't realize that she was sobbing until she spoke.
“No, no, Jo. I’m not leaving you. No, I'll never leave you,” Alex said, as he reached out to cup her cheek, brushing away the tears with his thumb. 
Jo paused, taking in his words as she wiped her cheeks and her snotty nose with her sleeve. “You're not leaving me?”
“No, Jo, I want you to come with me!” Alex stressed, something about the cold night air made his words ring clear in her ears. “You and me, we're a family. I don't want to be a Dad without you, and you could be such a good step-mom to them. I want you to meet them too. It was always supposed to be me and you, us as a family. Alexis and Eli are mine, and we're married, so what's mine is yours. If you're okay with that, the twins could be ours.”
“What about Izzie?” Jo asked, biting her lip. “Is she okay with me meeting them?”
“Yes, I explained to her that we’re a package deal, and she's agreed to let both of us meet the kids,” Alex said with a nod, although he still looked worried for her. “We haven't worked out all the details yet, but she's agreed to let us both be a part of their lives. If you want to, if you want that.”
“But you want me to come with you? You want me to meet the twins?” Jo asked, finally understanding.
“Yes, please,” Alex asked, his plea prompted her to look at him for the first time since he sat her down in the Loft. His worried expression surprised her as she took in his furrowed brow and the worry lines in his eyes. Finally, she realized that as much as she was worried he would leave her, he was worried that she would leave him too. 
“Okay,” Jo said, she was still so unsure about everything, but she could do this. She could go with him and meet the kids.
Alex let out a breath of relief before he pulled her forward to wrap his arms around her waist. He gave her a small smile as he just stared into her eyes. “I remember putting my arm around you for the first time at the beach and I thought to myself. I can never let this girl go. And every time I look at you, I remember the first day I met you. You're still so beautiful, and I'm still head over heels in love with you, Jo. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.”
Jo could only nod as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and holding his body against hers. She breathed in the scent of him and tangled her fingers in his hair. Alex was hers and she would never let him go. 
“You are the best thing that's ever been mine, too and I’m not going anywhere.” 
And I remember that fight, two-thirty am, 'cause everything was slipping right out of our hands. I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street. Braced myself for the goodbye, 'cause that's all I've ever known. Then, you took me by surprise. You said, "I'll never leave you alone." You said, "I remember how we felt, sitting by the water, And every time I look at you, it's like the first time, I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter, she is the best thing that's ever been mine."
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Jo and Alex both walked across the grass to the beach with both of the twins between them. As soon as they could hear the water, Alexis and Eli jumped up and down for joy, pointing and shouting. Their childish excitement was so infectious and exciting. They had never seen the open ocean before, so Jo and Alex had planned a family trip to Ocean Shores for the weekend. It was the twin’s first trip to the beach and their first trip to Seattle, whereas previously, Jo and Alex had gone to Kansas twice a month. 
The open ocean stretched out endlessly in front of them, the large sandy beach stretched out in either direction, and the sun was warm and hot on their backs. Jo was glad they brought the extra big umbrella as she adjusted the sun hat on Alexis' head lest she get burned with her fair hair.
The past few months since she and Alex had met the twins had been a whirlwind. When they met the twins, Jo instantly fell in love with them. How could she not? They were both a part of Alex, the man she loved. Eli was the spitting image of his father, and he warmed up to Jo in an instant, faster than he did to his father. He was so free with his affections for her in a childish manner. He just snuggled up to her on the couch and grabbed her hand, and pulled her to play with him. 
Alexis was one hundred percent daddy's little girl. Even now, as she commanded Alex to drop everything and pulled him towards the waves that crashed the beach. Alexis looked so much like Izzie, but she had that Karev smile and Alex's charm, and soon she had both Alex and Jo wrapped around her little finger.
Alex chased the twins around the beach and Jo joined them in the water as the waves came up to meet her toes. Eli pulled her over to create a sandcastle, and Alex and Alexis soon joined in as well, going out in hunt of leaves and rocks to decorate it. While Alex created a moat around it because every castle should have a moat.
It was the perfect day with the twins and the perfect day in general. Jo wrapped her arms around Eli's shoulders and placed a kiss on his brown curls as he placed the final leave on top, declaring at the flag. Alexis jumped around her, and Jo captured her wrist and spun her around as they danced together. Alexis grabbed onto Jo's leg and gave her a quick hug before she was gone in a flash, back into the sand to grab more rocks and hunt for more sand dollars.
They had barely been there an hour, but Jo could already feel the heat of the sun drain her. She retreated to the cool shade of the umbrella and curled up on the warm and fluffy beach towel. She watched her husband and their kids played together before she closed her eyes under her sunglasses.
“Hey you,” Alex said, as he leaned down to kiss her lips and laid down next to her on the beach towel. “Stealing a nap in the shade?”
“I think I earned it after taking care of three kids this week,” Jo said with a smirk as she opened her eyes and watched his face.
“Three?” Alex asked, scrunching up his eyebrows as he looked down at her, not fully understanding her words. “I think you miscounted.”
“Did I?” Jo asked, raising her eyebrow and placing a hand on her belly. She watched him process it for a second. His eyes fell down to her hand before they grew as wide as dinner plates, and he sat up in front of her.
“Are you, are you pregnant?” Alex finally managed to ask.
Jo could only laugh as her nose crinkled up and she just smiled because he was so flustered. “Yes, it's been so obvious. I thought you would have caught on by now. I’ve been sick every day, and I even left my prenatal vitamins on the shelf in the bathroom.”
“I'm sorry,” Alex said, looking down and putting his hand over hers on her belly. “I've been so distracted with the twins. I haven't even noticed.”
They had settled into their first week with Alexis and Eli in Seattle. The transition was rough at first, and Jo and Alex had been running around trying to manage two slightly overwhelmed five-year-olds. Alex barely noticed when she threw up or took a nap with the kids in the afternoon, although she hid her symptoms well. 
“It's okay,” Jo said, reaching out and putting her hand on his cheek as he looked up at her. “I've been distracted with everything too. I didn't even notice when I missed my period or when my body started to change until Carina pointed it out to me.”
“Yeah, that I did notice,” Alex said, his eyes glancing to her chest as she rolled her eyes.
“Well, I guess I can wear my hat, now,” Jo said, as she pulled out her beach hat, like the bride hat she had worn on their honeymoon, except this one had the words 'baby on board' stitched around it. He just shook his head as he held the hat. 
“Daddy, Mommy Jo, come play with us!” Alexis shouted at them as she waved her arm to catch their attention.
“Yeah, come back our castle isn’t finished yet, we need another tower!” Eli called to them from where he sat in the sand.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” Jo said as they got up from the beach towel. Alex wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her up against him as they watched the twins play. 
“A baby,” Alex said, looking down at his hand on her belly, and although they could neither see nor feel their child, they knew they were there. It was magical and wonderful and they were a little in awe.
“Yes,” Jo said with a smile, getting caught up in the way that he looked at her. “Do you think we could handle one more?”
“I think that we could and that we're going to be amazing, Jo. You're going to be an amazing mom. You’re already an amazing step-mom to the twins. I know this wasn't the family we envisioned, but I love the twins and this baby is what I've wanted with you since the moment I fell in love with you. You and me being family, with our baby and the twins, this is what I want more than anything.”
“I want you and this baby and our twins. Your right, they are ours, Alex this family is ours,” Jo said, reaching out to hold his face as he just looked at her and his eyes sparkled with happiness.
“I love you,” Alex whispered, leaning in for a gentle kiss.
“I love you too,” Jo whispered against his lips. 
“Can you believe it?” Alex said as they watched the twins play.
“No, if you told me three years ago that this was gonna be our life, our family, I wouldn't have never believed you, but we made it, and our marriage is stronger than ever.”
“I can see it. I can see it all unfold, the future, the five of us, you, me, this baby, and the twins, I can see it now.”
“It's going to be amazing,” Jo said as she looked over at him, he caught her eye and smiled at her. He was so in love with her and she was just as in love with him. “I can see it too.”
Do you believe it? We're gonna make it now, and I can see it. Yeah, yeah I can see it now.
15 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 4 years
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blurred lines | dave hodgman
word count; 9237
summary; a few miscommunications almost ruin something that could be phenomenal.
notes; I had this idea, and I really liked it, so i just rolled with it. this is the dave insert for my birthday week celebration/7k follower milestone.
warnings; smut, public sex, car sex.
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There weren’t many people that were more popular than Jane and her group of friends. They were like high school elites, and yet there was always that even more exclusive tier, those who were for all intents and purposes, teen royalty.
As he was saying, there weren’t many people more popular than the likes of Jane, Stanwyck and Brianna. However, Dave could without a doubt say that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was.
She had more likes on just one of her Instagram posts than that of all of Dave’s posts combined. If he added the combined sum of Big C’s and Simon’s, they’d probably still fall short, even collectively. There wasn’t a student or teacher that disliked her. She was well known not only in his own school, but in others too. Even Aubrey knew of her and liked her, and that was saying something, because Aubrey had a twisted sense of importance and political standing in every view of it.
That was why Dave couldn’t quite understand exactly how he’d gotten himself into this position.
Well, that’s a lie. He knew exactly how he got himself into this dreadfully embarrassing position, that would likely ruin not only the remaining months of his senior social life, but was so colossal that it may well actually follow him to college, too.
See, it had all started three days ago, a Monday lunch-time just like any other, as he sat pouting into his basket of curly fries as Simon once again scrolled through Aubrey’s latest uploaded pictures on Instagram with her new boyfriend and shaming him in an attempt to feel better. Dave was fine, he’d moved on, truly, but Simon clearly hadn’t, and needed his own closure on the situation.
It soon followed with “so David, which of all the lovely ladies in this school are you going to take to the dance, because you have two tickets, a dashing suit, and I refuse to let you waste them,” which had prompted Dave to snort a laugh, and make a joke about asking the heartbreaker (Y/N) (Y/L/N) dance, since he had nothing else to lose.
Apparently, he’d still had a shred of dignity, which was curling up and dying with every second that passes him by, but back to how this all came to be;
Unfortunately for him, his ‘good friend’ Jane had passed by at exactly that moment, and had been just thrilled at the prospect of him finally asking out the girl he’d “been pining over so long I thought you were going to turn into Ryan Gosling and rebuild he a house out in the country after hanging from a Ferris wheel”, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth, because how had the girl picked up in his pining for you, but never once picked up on the feelings he’d once held for her?
Despite that, a collection of kids Dave wasn’t confident in the names of but often followed Jane around had seated themselves at their table, and Jane - in all her innocence and confusion - was excitedly telling them about how Dave was finally going to ask out his crush.
That was exactly how he found himself here, almost two days later, feeling all pairs the eyes in the more-crowded-than-usual corridors as he leaned against your locker and tried to look as casual as possible as he waited for you, as though it wasn’t scaring him shitless and making him sweat like a sinner in church. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with one finger, trying to distract himself from all the people watching and whispering, waiting to see if Dave Hodgman could, in fact, score (Y/N) (Y/L/N), or if more likely, he was going to be rejected in a pile of flaming shame and the crumbling of what shredded remains he had left of his dignity.
“Hey, Dave.”
He felt like a moron. A moron that had been looking the wrong way down the corridor and now you were standing behind him, leaning back with a small laugh to avoid being hit when he spun around to face you with such speeds that his own head was spinning. “Hey! Hi! Hello!”
He cringed visibly at his ridiculous greeting, the confidence he’d held was slipping from him with every passing second, and you did a better job of avoiding the lingering gazes in the halls than he was, you barely seemed to notice them as you allowed him to step out of the way of your locker so that you could swap out your books, but he supposed you were used to it. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you, there are some rumours flying around.”
He wished he could hate the way you were teasing him, but he couldn't. It was playful, not mocking, and you were offering him such a friendly smile and making him feel comfortable once again, and he just couldn't find it within himself to dislike any part of you. “Yeah, I had a question for you..”
“You had a question for me?”
“I suspect you already know what it is” His shoulders sagged, he felt himself giving up, the stress and pressure were just too much, but he at least wanted to be able to walk away with dignity after his inevitable rejection, he didn’t want to be seen running through the halls in order to escape your soft voice trying to let him down gently.
“Will you say it anyway?”
He fixed you with a studious gaze, unsure as to what your angle was, but gave you a stiff nod anyway, and hooked his thumbs through the straps of his backpack as he stood tall. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to the ‘Night In Vegas’ dance with me? As my date. Y’know.. um.. yeah.”
“I’d love to.”
He gaped at you - blinking once, twice, three times - before his face was splitting in a grin, and he cleared his throat. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Woah.” You seemed to find amusement in his reaction, and you pulled his hand up to you and plucked a pen out of your bag, uncapping the lid with your teeth and moving the nib towards his skin, beginning to write down your number. “God, I was so nervous, and now I feel stupid. Nobody thought I would get you, not even me, and all these people are here an-”
“Get me?” Your pen had stilled on his skin, and he looked back at you, shrugging his shoulders as your face seemed to take on a neutral expression, unreadable as you watched him.
“Yeah. You’re like.. really popular, and pretty, and just way out of my league. Nobody really thought you’d go for me because it’s normally the other guys you want. Guess I’m proving everyone wrong.” Your expression flickered with something he couldn’t quite understand, but you were soon offering him a polite smile and finishing your number, dropping his hand again and tucking your pen back into your bag.
You stepped back from him, letting out a small sigh and glancing around everybody that was gathered around you, not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. “Okay, well, text me. We can sort out details. I have to go, but we’ll chat soon?”
He nodded his head moving before he could control it, and he watched you walk away with a small grin on your lips. “For sure! I’ll text, soon! See you later!”
“See’ya, Dave.”
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The weeks between the day he’d asked you and going to the dance had been filled with texts at night and flirty smiles in the corridors, and Dave couldn't be more excited as he pulled on his suit. It was odd, he thought he’d clicked with Aubrey more than he’d ever click with anyone, and yet even from the simple things he’d managed to learn about you during your conversations, he felt more of a bond with you than he ever had with anyone else.
You were like an enigma, you were a little bit confusing and you often ran him in circles, but he liked trying to work you out, as if knowing you was the prize at the end of a challenging puzzle. He told you as much as he could about himself, wanting to share everything he could with you. He had felt awkward and slightly robotic in the way he went about his conversations with you, to begin with, simple texts to ask you how your day was and what you were up to, but soon enough it had resorted to one of you starting a conversation with you about anything. The jokes on the back of biscuit wrappers, something that had happened in his day, movies on the TV or even just to complain.
The two of you would sometimes even be found talking in the corridors, sharing laughs and jokes, and he found himself falling for you a little more with each passing day. He was all but buzzing with both nerves and excitement, brushing his open palms down and over his tux jacket, Stella tugging on his pants as she whined for attention, but he was too nervous and too busy to play barbies with her right now, and she just wanted him to do the deeper voices of the only male one she owned when he made his rare appearance at ‘the dreamhouse’.  
A flower in a box sat on the shelf under his mirror, his fingertips still a little sticky with the gel he’d used to style his hair, and so he didn’t want to touch the corsage yet and smear it with the substance. He’d planned or get ready early, his plan to pick you up at eight was not going to be ruined because he lost track of time in the shower and ended up being late. He had one chance, and he didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, though, it seemed he was ready a little too early, because he was stuck with a good thirty-minute wait before the earliest acceptable time to come and get you would roll around, and he had nothing else to fill his time with.
He was dressed, and ready. Clean and freshly styled and just enough of his special occasion aftershave spritzed on his skin to be alluring but no overwhelming.
Okay, maybe he had a little bit of time to play barbie dolls with Stella.
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With fingers tapping on the steering wheel, he peered up at the driveway to your house, watching as the clock ticked over onto 7 PM, and he let out the breath he was holding, letting the smile that had been pulling on his features finally come free, as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, a finger under his collar to tug it loose for a second as he pulled up the string of messages the two of you had been exchanging.
hey cutie. i’m outside.
The little speech bubble at the bottom of the screen danced for a few minutes, the nail of his thumb caught between his teeth as he waited for you to respond, but soon it just disappeared. He waited, and waited, and soon five minutes had passed and he was beginning to worry for what was happening, the thoughts that this all may just be an elaborate joke was slipping into his mind when your front door opened, closing only a second later as you came walking down the driveway with a smile on your face.
He hurried from his seat, rushing up to meet you with the corsage in his hands, and you paused upon seeing it, before your eyes were finding his, wide and wondering as you closed the gap between you until you were standing right in front of him.
“Is that for me?”
“Yeah! Yeah.. you said you were wearing a gold dress, and I couldn't find a gold flower, so I got a white one, but it does have a cute little tassel on it that matches the fringe-tassel thing you have going on and-” He cut himself off with a series of stutters and breath sighs when you kissed his cheek, your thumb coming up a second later to clear away the red lipstick print you’d left on his skin from the freshly applied coat that was still a little wet. “I could have come up and met you, at the door. Do you want me to meet your parents, o-”
“It’s good, Dave, really. Let’s just go have fun, okay?”
He swallowed, glancing between your gaze and the front door, before giving it up and nodding, cracking the box open to present you with the flower to put on your wrist. “Sure, I can’t wait.”
He held the door for you, held your hand as you stepped into the car, and made sure you were settled before he got in on his own side. He was determined to be the perfect gentleman. This was his one shot to prove to you how good the two of you could be together, and he wasn’t willing to mess it up. When he got into his own seat and clipped his safety belt in, you were fiddling with the dials on the dashboard and tinkering with the radio channels, switching over to the CD he had in, and his cheeks flared a little as you looked over the back of the CD case at the songs. “You mind if I pick the music?”
“Knock yourself out, babe, whatever you want.”
You nodded offering him a wide grin as he set the car off into motion, and he peeled away from the sidewalk outside your house to head toward the school. It was a short drive, but he couldn’t help but notice every little thing you did that only made you seem more like a regular person to him, and not like someone who was miles and miles out of his league, it made him feel calmer, like this wasn’t all just some big and elaborate prank that was the punchline of, but instead like he was here with a pretty date to have a great evening.
Your fingers tapped along on your leg in time with the tune, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you, and before he knew it, he was pulling up in the back of the somewhat crowded parking lot, trying to find a space that wasn’t too close to the crowds gathering around the doors, and you were brushing your dress down and stepping out the car, grinning as you looked between him and doors.
Shooting a quick text to Simon and Big-C to let them know that he was here, he tucked the device into his pocket, offering his arm to you and grinning when you accepted it. His friends met the pair of you at the door, and this was the nervous moment he’d been waiting for.
Simon was quiet for all of two seconds, before he was smirking widely and holding his hand out to introduce himself, the slew of comments neither of you would be able to avoid all night beginning to pour from him without hesitation; “Simon Daldry. You look absolutely ravishing tonight, far better than Aubrey ever did, you really traded up, Davie-boy.”
“Don’t call me that, and don’t talk about Aubrey.”
“No, Davie-boy, do spill. Who’s Aubrey?” You turned to him, a teasing look on your face and he sighed, raising his eyebrows at him, his eyes flicking down to your hands when he felt your fingers slide down his arm and lace with his, squeezing encouragingly. You were telling him that it was okay, that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to, but you were staring at him intently and still giving him that look that was giving him the confidence to be by your side all night, and so he caved.
Instead of voicing his history himself, though, he turned to give Simon a pointed look, and Big-C clapped him on the shoulder as the shortest boy all but vibrated with glee at the chance to tell you the story.
“Aubrey is our dear boy’s ex-girlfriend. She wasn’t very nice, we didn’t like her very much.” Dave dropped his head back with a groan as his friend took the chance to throw some insults into the conversation and he squeezed his hand around ours to draw back your attention, cutting Simon off as the boy took a breath to start off on yet another rant;
‘How about we go and get our picture taken, yeah? I’ve seen some of the photos on Snapchat already, and they're pretty good. They really went all out; neon signs, props like the strip attractions, there’s even a red carpet.”
“A red carpet? Well, how could we resist?”
He guided you along, your heels carrying you at closer to his height and your strides wider as you expertly balanced in the shoes, thanking him when he held the door open, your jaw dropping form the second you stepped inside with the small group. The bass was beating through the floors and the music was loud, even from the main entrance, the hall holding the dance still a small walk away, and anticipation filled his body.
He may or may not be a sucker for school dances.
The room was decorated with dice, cards, flashing banners and shiny decorations with bright lights. Black, red and white hung from all of the walls, and everything screamed Sin City extravagance, but had been toned down to high school appropriate. The usual red solo cups that were always brought in for the punch and drinks had been swapped out for plastic champagne and martini glasses, which definitely looked funny being filled with the non-alcoholic and red fruit-punch, but it was a fun thought nonetheless, and he was impressed by how quickly it had all come together, being that none of it had been up when they’d been ins school earlier that day.
The flashes of the camera set up in the corner snapped him out from his wonder, and he looked over to find you in much the same way, and he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as you looked around. “Wanna’ take pictures?”
You nodded vehemently, the two of you making your way over to the setup, and bursting out with laughter at what you saw. Big-C was accompanying Simon, who had clearly manoeuvred him into a slightly less than formal dance photo pose. The pair of them were recreating the famous Titanic pose, the one of Jack and Rose at the front of the ship as she insisted that she was flying, and neither of you could contain your laughter as you watched on.
“Simon looks like he’s having the time of your life, but your other friend looks like he’d rather actually be on the ship as it sank.”
“Simon is insane, and I’m really not sure how Big-C put’s up with him.” He shrugged, allowing you to drag him into the queue for photos taken, the words you were running a mile a minute about different poses you could do were going in one ear and out of the other, because he didn’t care what pose you dragged him into, however formal or informal, because he was shocked by how seamlessly you were fitting into his friendship group, and how his friends had known you for less than ten minutes but already seemed to like you ten times more than they ever did his ex.
By the time your turn to take photos had come around, he hadn't heard a single one of your ideas for pictures to take, and simply let himself be guided by the photographer. He found himself standing behind you, hands sitting on your stomach as his arms wrapped around your waist, your own fingers lacing through his own. The first one was a formal shot, the sort of one his mother would have taken of the two of you had she met you, and he knew she’d love it when he presented it to her. In fact, she might actually frame it. He did look good tonight.
The second was a little more playful, his head was tipped up and chin balanced on the top of your head as he beamed at the camera, holding you a little tighter and pinching at your side, prompting your face to screw up and a laugh to bubble up from you as he did, and the final one featured him leaning around you, the tip of his nose brushing your skin as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was more you than him, his face was mostly obscured by his position and all that could be seen was his arms, legs and the top of his head, but he knew it would be his favourite simply based on the was your cheeks had been tinted red and your eyes glistening when he looked at you after hearing the ‘click’ of the camera taking the photo.
“They’re going to be cute photos.”
The pair of you were hurried off of the platform, and took your hand in his once again, the four of you walking along the halls, following the music as it got louder and louder, and he twisted his head to face you, a smirk on his lips and his eyes dragging along you, head to toe. “That’s because there’s a cute girl in them.”
“Dave, that was shocking. Appalling, actually. How the fuck did you get someone as out of you league as her to go out with you when you have lines like that?”
He felt his face blank into boredom as he looked over at Simon, but you simply laughed, pulling him through the open doors and telling him not to mind it, because you thought it was sweet, and your reassurance was enough to give him confidence on his statement one again. Bodies filled the room, some on the dance floor, some milling around the food tables, others sitting at tables and filling the seats.
Lifting your joined hands up, he spun you in a twirl, a surprised sound leaving you before you were giggling, his brows wiggling suggestively as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Let’s start with a dance, yeah?”
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You had danced, the two of you swirling around on the dance floor until your legs were aching and you were gasping for a drink. Some songs were upbeat, and these were the songs that the two of you busted out your best moves for, limbs flying in all directions as you cracked up with laughter upon watching the other move, and your hair flew around, pink coating both of your cheeks as the blood rushed underneath, heat flashing around you until you were slumped against one another and holding yourselves up, using your intertwined body for support as you gasped for breath and tried to calm your hearts as tears pushed at your eyes from laughing so much.
Then there were the slower songs, your cheek pressed to his shoulder, or your temple resting just below his as you leaned into him. His arms were around your waist, or his hands in yours, and your own fingers were looped around his shoulders, fingers in the shorter hair at the base of his neck and your nails scratching at the skin softly, lulling him into a feeling of peace so serene that his eyes were fluttering shut, his breathing levelling out, and he realised he could definitely get used to it. He liked being able to hold you so close, and being able to feel you pressed up to his chest, your lips almost brushing on the times you'd look up to talk to him and let your forehead press to his own as you mumbled quiet words of calm chatter between you both.
There were also the more sensual songs, the ones that had too much bass and sliding notes to be a slow song, and it was with those songs that Dave found himself suffering the most, his eyes closing and jaw dropping open, hands gripping your body tightly. Your body would roll into his, your ass pressed to him when you turned in his arms and your body swaying with his own, never stopping him when he dragged his hands over your body, never too much for the public eye but more than enough to get the two of you worked up, and you never flinched away when he began to pepper the bare skin of your shoulder with light kisses and the occasional flick of his tongue against your skin.
By the time the two of you had collapsed in your seats, you had thanked him with a kiss on his cheek when he brought you punch, and you’d pulled your chair up so close to his that your thighs were pressed together, your body facing his and elbow sitting on the back of his chair, fingers once again in his hair and playing with that sweet pattern that made his whole body sag with relaxation.
He’d leaned into you, barely getting a chance to enjoy the feeling of the quiet and intimate moment, the two of you feeling more like a couple than he had ever felt when he was with Aubrey. You simply enjoyed his presence, and you made him feel calm. He wasn’t nervous and sweaty and on edge when he was with you, the way she had made him feel was so entirely different that he couldn't even compare the two of you, because you were unique, nothing like anyone he’d ever met before.
Simon had soon interrupted you both, a deck of cards in his hands as he insisted that you played him in poker, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand as you turned away to face him as he dealt up. The two of you were teamed up, and you had ended up in his lap, balanced across one of his legs as his chin popped on your shoulder, arms tightly around your waist to hold your back to his chest as you held the cards.
Not only had you won the game, but you’d done the whole thing while never once caving to Simon’s trash talk, meeting him with it and raising the stakes until him and Big-C were simply watching on as the two of you playfully slated one another, goading the other to break their poker face as you played, and Simon had even offered you a shake of his hand upon winning, and it was the most sportsmanly thing he’d ever seen his friend do. He was normally such a sore loser, but maybe that’s just because it was you that he’d lost to.
The feeling that he was waiting for the ball to drop, that there was something coming around the corner or a big joke waiting to be unveiled was gone, because you were so clearly enjoying yourself that it wasn’t possible to be able to fake that kind of joy. He was having one of the nights of his life, the flickering of the lights, the beat of the music in the floor, the taste of the fruit-punch hanging on his lips and the feel of you in his arms. You had managed to convince him into taking pictures, the two of you wandering around the room to take selfies with all the fun props and displays, wanting to truly capture the Vegas theme in all its flashy entirety.
His favourite one had to be the picture of you posing under a replication of the famous sign. ‘Welcome to the Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’ was sparkling above your head as you looked up at it, your hands held out on either side in a way that made it look like you were holding up the sign, in the same way that tourists took pictures that made it look like they were leaning on the Eiffel Tower or holding up the tower of Pisa. It was cheesy, and he loved it, because you were so carefree and happy in the shot.
Being with you made his social anxiety melt away, your own carefree attitude washed over him and it sunk into him, taking it on himself. The lingering gazes and whispers never bothered him, or made him wonder. He managed to let it all go, because his only focus was you.
As the night went on, the pair of you were getting warmer and warmer, fanning yourselves with your hands as the sweaty bodies in the room rose the heat up, and you had only hesitated for a moment when he offered you a walk outside, sighing with what he assumed to be relief, before nodding and lacing your fingers with his as he guided you back out into the cool night, the sky dark now and the stars twinkling overhead.
There were far fewer people now, a few boys lingering on the other side of the field, clouds of smoke rising up around them with no surprise as to what they were doing, but the car park was empty, and your hands swung between you both as you walked along in comfortable silence around the outskirts of the cars. It was halfway around when he finally pulled you to a stop, pushing down the butterflies that were going wild in his stomach, and raising a hand up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing over your skin delicately.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? You’re absolutely stunning.” his words were breathed out on a sigh, and your lips flicked up at the corners.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Hodgman.” He tilted your chin up a little more, watching the way your eyes darkened, and his jaw dropped when he felt your fingers hook into his belt loops, and tug his body towards your own, hips pressing together. Swallowing thickly, he dragged his eyes back up to yours, taking a quick inhale of breath as his eyes got stuck on the way your plump lower lip was caught between your teeth, seductive in ways he couldn't even fathom. “Are you going to do what you’ve been wanting to do all night, or not?”
“Fuck, yeah, I am.” With that, his mouth was descending onto your own, heavy and wet as his wet lips meshed with your own. He could taste the lipstick you wore, and the slightly sticky fruit punch residue in your mouth, the flavour of which only increased when your lips parted for him and your tongue dipped out to find his own.
It was needy and hot, and raw in a way that made his head spin, and one of his hands came up to lace in your hair as he backed you up into the streetlamp only a few feet away, your back arching into him as your skin met the cold metal, and the sound you made in your shock went straight to his groin. It was sweet and low, a little groan that was crossed with a whimper, and your hips were rolling up into his.
His other hand slipped down and around your waist, past your lower back until he was taking a handful of your ass in his palm, squeezing roughly at the flesh and this time, you both let out moans at the feeling. Your bodies were flush now, the heat from inside was back, like a raging fire between your bodies as you rutted against one another, pulling back for gasping breaths before diving back into one another’s mouths once again. Your lipstick was smeared around your mouth and his own, your hair was messy from the pretty style it had been in at the beginning of the night, and you were a picture-perfect mess, the sort of sight he wanted or wake up to, or fall asleep by after a long night of holding you close to him and showing you how much you meant to him.
It wasn’t love, far from it, but the spark that he thought could turn into so much more had never been brighter, it had never felt this good, and he found himself sinking into your bliss with every rock of your bodies and every drag of your lips over his, every sweet noise to meet his ears or every moan he made that you muffled with your own mouth. It was getting heavy, and you showed no signs of stopping and he didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to get caught with your legs around his waist as he fucked you against a metal pole, because the way you were now grinding down onto his thigh was very clear, and he was only seconds away from pulling down the spaghetti straps of your dress to see whether or not you actually had a bra on underneath your clothing.
“We should.. um.. move. Car? I think we should go to the car.” He barely managed to get his words out, but you were pushing him away from the post, hands tight in the collar of his suit jacket as you tore your lips from his, looking around for the vehicle, and his mouth descended to your neck, licking and kissing along your skin. You seemed to find it, because only a moment later you were pushing him in that direction, his feet moving underneath him and your hand rifling through his pockets for the keys, before his back was meeting cold metal this time, and he hissed out at the feeling.
He forced himself to remove his hand from your ass, fumbling for the handle when he heard the car sound it’s unlocking, and when he finally managed to wrench it open, he was quickly being pushed into the driver's seat, the keys tossed carelessly onto the dashboard and his hands reaching to push the chair back as far as it could go as your own reached for the lever to flatten the seat back.
Suddenly, he was laying down, the door slamming as you straddled him in the vehicle, hair framing his face as your lips met yours once again, and now he was able to get both hands on your ass, and had his mouth not been so deliciously otherwise occupied, he would have been smirking as he groped at the fleshy mounds in bliss. The windows were fogging up, the tent in his pants pressing to your clit each time he thrust his hips up to meet your movements, and his cock twitching in his pants with every squeaky moan you let out, and every breathy moan of his name that sounded out.
Pulling away for only a second, his lips were still pouted, but his jaw soon dropped open when you pushed away the straps of your dress, the flimsy material falling away to pool at your waist, you breasts on full display to him, bouncing as you rocked down into him, and nipples perky and pointed out for him, skin showing a thin layer of goosebumps with your arousal showing clearly.
His question had been answered; you were not wearing a bra. He fucking knew it.
Dragging his palms up and over your smooth skin, he cupped your tits in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs teasing over your nipples, and an entirely new sound left you, one that had his gut twisting with desire, and a primal urge raring up within him. You pushed your chest up into his hands, your head falling back and your own hands finding his wrists, holding his touch on your body as you rode yourself down onto him, the two of you nearing you peaks, even with the layers of clothing between you, and it took every ounce of self-control he had to still your hips atop him.
“Baby, as much as I love what you’re doing, if you keep it up then I’ll cum and the fun will be over.” His voice was hoarse, even to himself, and you took a steady breath of your own, leaning down to place a softer and gentler kiss to his lips, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth when you shifted away from him.
“Better put the condom on and put that cock to use then, huh?”
His eyes widened, spluttering falling from him, before he shut himself up by snapping his jaw shut and nodding quickly, sitting up with you in his lap and searching for his wallet in his jacket pocket. While he was up, he took the opportunity to shove the material down his shoulders, discarding the blazer to the back seat and popping the button on the front of the leather pouch, rifling through and praying against all known gods that he had replaced the condom in his wallet, only barely managing to contain the cheer of joy he wanted to let out when he found it.
The cards and that note were of no concern to him, instead, he was dropping that to focus on the silver packet he was holding in his hands, a low groan slipping from him as he watched your own fingers dip under the black panties he was only now catching sight of, the digits disappearing from his vision. Your head fell forward a split second later, your foreheads pressing together as you whined his name under your breath, fucking yourself down onto your fingers to the thought of him, and he’d never gotten his belt and pants undone faster.
The car was steamy and hot, windows fogged over to block any sights from outside, and now it was just the two of you, in a bubble of your own making as you barrelled quickly towards the very activities that Dave had been dreaming about since he’d first caught sight of you in Freshman year.
Finally dragging his cock free from its confines, he grinned happily to himself, pumping his already hard cock a few times, before using his teeth to help him tear open the wrapper and roll the rubber down over his shaft.
“Holy fuck, you’re amazing. So fucking hot.”
You flashed your teeth at him in a wicked grin, your hand coming over to take control of his, your fingers slick with your own juices, and he hadn't realised just how wet you were, but now as you were pulling your panties to the side and lining him up with your core, he could feel the heat of your entrance as the tip of his covered cock dragged through your folds. He felt as though he was panting like a dog, drooling and clenching his fingers beside his body, before he was lifting them up to sit on your hips, taking control as you erased him by pulling you down in one swift movement.
You sunk all the way along him, both of your eyes rolling in your head and your body shaking above him as he became fully sheathed in your warmth, and he worried that he was gripping you so tightly it may bruise you. His thighs were clenched and his head was pressing back into the cushions of the reclined seat, letting out a shuddering breath as he tried not to explode just from the feeling of being buried in your dripping cunt.
“Oh my God, Dave!”
“I know.” His words were wheezed out, a playful look on your face as the two of you took your second to adjust, but that seemed to shatter as the look you shared darkened, and only a moment later you were rolling your hips down into him. It started out slow, a series of simple and steady movements that were almost mechanic, the rise and fall of your hips as you moved up and down along his cock, slowly as you grew used to the position and the movements you could make within the car.
Once you had grown comfortable, you were spicing up your actions, slamming yourself down onto him with quick and rapid movements, and then slowing it down to tease him, rolling the muscles in your stomach and clenching yourself so tightly around him that he almost choked on his own tongue, his eyes crossing and hips bucking up into you desperately. He couldn't take it, the way you would drag him to the edge only to let him come back down, but he loved it, because you were with him, riding him in his car after having an amazing night, and he couldn't get enough of the way it felt to be completely and utterly surrounded by you.
You were taking over his every sense, everything he has was given over in surrender, because he was barely holding on at all.
Your lips brushed his, and your movements became weaker, less coordinated and more frantic as you chased your own high as well as his. Taking one of his hands in your own shakily, you folded his fingers away until only two remained, and he watched through hooded eyes and you sucked his long fingers into your mouth with swollen lips, warm and wet just like your pussy, your cheeks tightening around his digits as you soaked them with your spit. Your tongue lapped around his fingers, dipping and weaving between the digits and dips with precision that would be haunting his mind and filling his wet dreams for weeks, as well as the permanently burned-in feeling of your warmth around his cock.
Dragging the slick digits down your body, you lifted up the edge of your skirt and pushed the pads of his fingers up to your swollen and neglected clit, and he took the hint, taking control of his limb again and picking up the pace. Pushing down roughly on the button, he traced his name in jerky and needy movements, a possessive act that he took pride in, rubbing his name on the nub and only making it as far as the ‘O’ on his last name before you were exploding around him.
Your eyes were rolling back in your head, nails digging into his chest through the dress shirt covering his chest, and he arched up into the touch, your orgasm spurring on his own. Your mouth pressed to his, lips working slowly and tongue seven slower, simply dragging over the top of one another’s and tangled together in sloppy patterns as you muffled the cried of each other’s names and moaned out curses, prolonging one another’s orgasms until it was all too much to handle.
When you finally peeled yourself off of his cock and collapsed down into the seat beside him, you had a lazy smile on your face, your body slumping into the passenger seat, and he forced his seat back up into a sitting position Peeling the condom off of his cock and tying it off, hiding it in a handful of tissues that were left on his dash, he placed it in the cupholder to dispose of later, and tucked himself back into his pants, his mind still spinning from the events and his thoughts still swimming with only you, in his post-orgasmic bliss.
He undid the tie around his neck, popping a few buttons on his shirt to allow himself to breathe, and once he knew you’d adjusted your dress and cover yourself back up again, he rolled down the windows to air out the heat in the car.
“So, you can just drop me off at home now, then.”
His head whipped around to look at you, only you weren’t looking at him, you were looking at yourself in the mirror and wiping at the lipstick around your mouth, cleaning your skin up and removing any trace of the kisses he’d left on you, and the sight of you doing so made him rub at his own mouth the back of his hand, wiping away the red smudges on his skin. “What are you talking about?”
“Now that we’re done, y’know? You got me, you got your notch on your belt or whatever, and this night really has been an absolute blast, but I would love nothing more than a nice hot bath and some pasta, now.” He was speechless, he really didn’t know what to say, because right now there was a bitter taste taking over his mouth as he thought about the night, storm clouds coming in as your words settled over him.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He knew he had all but spat the words at you, and he was angered by the audacity on your face to look shocked by the anger in his tone when you finally let your eyes meet his, a light shrug on your shoulders, before you picked up the keys and handed them to him, and he didn’t even look down at his palm as the cold metal met his skin. “Hey, don’t worry. I wanted to be here, I said yes to the dance and I initiated this. A lot of guys try it, want to sleep with me for the popularity boost or cool guy badge or whatever, and I think it’s dumb but you seemed so sad and nervous in the halls, and I figured, why not? You’re really cute, I like you.”
Rage swelled within him and he felt tears sting at his eyes as he let out a breathless laugh, before starting up the car and shaking his head, peeling out of the parking lot in silence. It wasn’t until the two of you had hit the main roads that he spoke over the dull playing of the radio once again. “What, so I was just a pity-fuck for you? Some kind of project, the whole night was a lie?”
“What? No!” Your hand landed on his bicep, but he shrugged you off, never even looking over at you as he flicked his way through the roads, nearing your house as he drove as quickly as the speed limits would possibly allow him to, not wanting to draw out the journey any longer than it needed to be. “I had fun tonight, I told you that!”
“You had fun on a date that I thought was real, and you thought was just something to fill the time with while you were bored?”
“I never said that!”
“Sure.” He sighed, flicking on his indicators as the two of you entered at the top end of your neighbourhood, and he heard you make a distressed little sound beside him, and even though it made his own body fill with sadness and regret, he was still angry, too angry to even consider letting those secondary emotions take over.
“Why don’t we just talk about this, I think mayb-”
“No. Why don’t we just finish this journey in silence, yeah?” He let his gaze flicker over to you for only a second, before he was looking back at the road, swallowing thickly to push down the way seeing you upset expression had made him feel. You did as he requested, and the rest of the ride was filled with tense and awkward silence, and neither of you spoke again until the car was coming to a halt outside of your house.
This time, he didn’t try to be a gentleman. He didn’t get out of his seat and open the door for you, and the evening routine he’d planned of walking you up to the door and hoping against all odds that maybe you’d kiss him was completely dashed, his newly fog-cleared mind full of regret for how fast things had advanced between the two of you, disappointment filling every nook and pore in his body.
You opened your own door, climbing from the car and walking away, the quiet click of your heels on the tiles was all that was heard, and he watched you go, eyes scanning up over you as you stopped in your place, turning and taking a breath as you prepared yourself to speak, but he cut you off before you got a chance; “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about tonight. Despite the impression you seem to have of me, I just wanted to go to a dance.”
Your face seemed to crumple in on yourself, your arms wrapping around your body, and he squeezed his hands on the steering wheel tighter, resisting the urge to rush from the car and pull you in close to him. “I-I..” Your voice cracked, like you were going to cry, and he felt his resolve crumbling, his fingers reaching for the handle of his door as you continued on, cleaning your throat. “I was just going to say thank you, I had a really great time with you, at the dance.”
He didn’t get a chance to speak, to ask you what had happened or why you’d ever thought of him like that, before you were turning on your heel, a near-run as you carried yourself up the driveway, slipping into your house and slamming the door shut. He didn’t have time to think about it or dwell on the thought because soon he was on the road, completely confused and a little bit heartbroken, and just wanting to curl up in his own bed.
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Dave was walking at his locker, swapping out the books for his next class and keeping his head low, ignoring all the congratulatory pats on the back and hoots or hollers he had been receiving. It seemed that being with you had been a real boost for his popularity, because guys that have always believed themselves to be too good to talk to him were now stopping him in the corridors to start up conversations, and girls who had never looked in his direction were now batting their eyelashes and waving their fingers flirtily.
He didn’t care for any of it, but Simon was eating it all up as you went along.
He had barely gotten his fingers out of the way of the door when it slammed shut, his body jumping backwards and eyes widening, before he was turning to look at you, his shoulders slumping even further and he removed his bag from his shoulders, distracting himself with packing his bag, waiting for you to shot, or yell, or publicly tear him down. Whatever it was that you needed.
“You said it wrong. You are terrible with words.”
“Excuse me?” A flicker of anger shot through him, and he zipped up his bag with more force than was needed, swinging it up onto one arm and letting it hang there, wiping a hand over his face to calm his feelings before he turned back to you. “I was never anything but polite to you.”
“I know. But when you first asked me out, you said nobody thought you could ‘get me’. You made me sound like a prize to be won, like a notch on your belt. Do you have any idea how many guys try to ‘get me’ just to prove that they can?”
He shuffled from foot to foot, glancing around at the few pairs of eyes that had landed on you all, before a sigh on his lips helped him from his next words. “I didn’t want that, I never did. I just wanted to go to the dance with you.”
“Do you like me?”
“What?”
“Do you like me? In a real way, not a popularity-boost, make it a game, prove to people who looked down on your way.” You were vulnerable as you looked up at him, eyes wide and expression flickering every so often as you tried to appear strong, and his head tipped to the side before he could stop it, a small smile on his lips as he let his eyes scan over you, before he was looping a couple of his fingers loosely with your own.
“I really do, for a while now, actually.” Heat crawled up his cheeks at the confession, but you were giving him a grin wider than the sun, holding onto his hand a little more tightly, weaving your fingers through his until your palms were pressed tightly to one another.
“Do you want to go on a date, then? A real date. Like, to a restaurant or mini-golf, or something.”
He used his other hands to tuck some loose hair behind your ear, risking taking a step closer to you, until you were forced or look up at him as he stepped into your space, only having to whisper as he spoke to you now, the conversation only for the two of you to hear. “I would love that.”
“Okay. Cool.”
“Cool.” His own smile finally matched your own, feeling his heartbeat steadily in his chest as you seemed to relax before him, your defensive stance slipping away, and for a second, you weren’t the popular girl that had always seemed out of his league and too scary to talk to, but right now you were just the pretty girl that he had a connection with like no other. “Can I kiss you in front of other people?”
“I’d really like it if you did.”
His other hand settled itself over your cheek, pulling your lips up to meet his so that he could press his mouth to yours in a sweet connection. It was nothing like the previous night had been. Last night was rushed and sloppy and just a preemptive action towards what the night had become. There was no ulterior motive or further action to be taken now, though. Instead, it was simply a brush of lips, it was the only thing either of you needed, it was an act of reassurance in order to make sure the spark between you wasn’t being ignored.
Your other hand threaded into his hair, your body pressing to his as you pushed up on your tiptoes, being sure he wasn’t pulling away or moving from you, and he let his arm drop to wrap around your waist to support you, to keep your body pressed flush to his your thumbs played together and smoothed over one another’s knuckles with the hands that were still connected. Your lips teased his, the occasional flick of a tongue through the smiles but never enough to go any further, and you were refusing to pull away, until the burn for oxygen was just too much to ignore.
Your forehead pressed or his, a satisfied and happy noise sounding in the back of your throat as you bumped your nose against his, and he let out a breathless laugh, bumping his nose against yours in return, a grin forming on your lips at the gesture. When you finally sunk back down to your height and were no longer balancing on your tiptoes, he was able to press a kiss to your forehead, before your hand was pulling from his to loop around his waist, letting you snuggle into his chest and rest your cheek on his shoulder.
“I really like you, Dave Hodgman.’
“I really like you, too.”
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itcamefromthetoybox · 3 years
Text
Insert “Aqua” Reference Here
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So a while back, I was scrolling the internet and came across this year’s “Barbie” lineup. While that’s not normally my scene, I do always like to stay up to date on them, since I have loved ones who do like Barbies. What caught my eye is that the newest Barbies are really pushing representation, which was a delight to see, and always something that should be supported. Amongst this year’s line is a Barbie in a wheelchair, a Barbie that seems to be coded gender-neutral, and, what we’ll be talking about today, a Barbie with a prosthetic leg.
If you somehow don’t know what Barbie is, then you’re in luck, because I’m a narcissist who loves to ramble on about stuff; that’s why I run a toy blog. For those who don’t know, Barbie is the most well-known doll in America, and probably the world. Over the years, she’s had pretty much every job imaginable, from doctor, to astronaut, to superhero. Hell, in the show “Barbie: Life In The Dreamhouse,” it was a running gag how many jobs she’s had!
Now, like I said before, Barbie isn’t my normal thing, so I’m not the most knowledgeable person on the subject. That being said, my apologies if I get anything wrong here.
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No longer wrapped in plastic, but still fantastic!
This Barbie is from the “Fashonistas” line, which is the basic single doll line. Depending on where you shop, they’ll run you anywhere from $7-$10, though the dolls that come with more accessories can cost a bit more, which shouldn’t really be a shock to anyone. The dolls come in a variety of skin and hair colors, and are even starting to come with different body types. A little something for everyone!
Like I said before, this Barbie comes with a prosthetic leg, so I was curious to see how that worked. When I went to buy her, I saw there were a few options. The one I got is a brunette with tan skin and a simple, yet lovely sky blue short dress. It looks like the other options have the same dress, though a few have some additional accessories, in addition to different skin tones and hair. For the sake of this review, though, let’s focus on the one I got. Her head’s on a balljoint and her shoulders have a full range of motion. Her hip motion’s more limited, however, and that is it for how posable she is Head moves, legs move, arms move. Based on my, admittedly limited, experience, that’s the norm for Barbie, and Barbies with more articulation will have it noted on the packaging.
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Next time I go out, Barbie gets a Fall outfit.
The dress is a nice choice and can be removed via a velcro strip on the back, though you really don’t wanna get her hair caught in it. Anyone who’s had their hair caught in something knows the pain there, and I don’t think there’s a Barbie on the market whose hair can grow back yet. Though, I could be wrong, and a Barbie who transforms into a werewolf is a thing. With all her other jobs, that would not shock me.
Barbie’s golden hoop earrings can’t be removed. They’re pegged into her head, and I was worried about doing some damage when I gave them a pull, so do keep that in mind. Barbie came with little rubber cords holding her shoes on. They’re the same kind used to hold toys in boxes, so they can be removed fairly easily. I actually chose to keep them on, because I don’t want to lose her shoes. I kept having this nightmarish image of losing the shoe, and then a week later, stepping on it, tripping, and falling to my death, and then a doctor writing under cause of death, “de-feet-ed.” Better to avoid that, I figure.
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I’ve somehow gone a week without losing those shoes! Go me!
On the subject of holding toys in boxes, I actually wanna talk a little about how Barbie’s held in her box. I know that’s not something I usually get into, but I don’t want anyone damaging their doll when opening the box. In addition to all the usual plastic ties, there’s a plastic tie that goes INSIDE HER HEAD! Seriously, that’s kinda messed up. I didn’t know it was there, so when I was taking her out, suddenly the box was pulling back in her head, and I was terrified of leaving part of her head or hair in the package. So watch out for that!
Alright, let’s talk about the main attraction here: the leg. So, I was delighted to see a Barbie with a prosthetic leg. Great to see representation for people with prosthetics. I was, however, worried about what if they did a bad job with it. Like, what if the leg detaches if you look at it funny, or is held on by a peg with all the strength of a sedated senior citizen? Thankfully, none of that is the case. The leg takes a bit of muscle to detach and reattach, but once it’s on there, it’s staying until you decide otherwise. There’s a peg inside the leg that plugs into a grip inside Barbie’s thigh, with the leg fitting neatly over her thigh. It’s a perfect fit!
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I was trying really hard to get a pic of where the leg connects without Barbie flashing anyone. Appreciate my efforts!
Okay, now, I know it sounds like I’ve been singing this toy’s praises, probably to the point where you might suspect Mattel, the toymaker, is paying me. I just want to assure you, they are not. It’s not a matter of principles. I’m a millennial in 2021 America with a chronic illness. If a major toy company wants to slip me a few hundred to rave about their products, then I will happily kiss ass until every rich ass cheek is kissed, but I’d also let you know I was being paid. The point I was trying to make, before going off into a fantasy world of making money and kissing ass, is that this doll is really good. It does have a few problems, but overall, it’s a good doll.
Now, let’s talk about the problems. My big issue is that she can’t stand. Girl’s got the balance of a college kid who just got wasted for the first time at their first epic, late night party. If you don’t have a stand for her, she’s going down harder than that same college student’s self-respect when they see the drunk texts they sent last night. I tried leaning her on things, and honestly, that could have gone better. It worked a little, but not great, and she ended up on the ground again. Get a stand or something if you want her to not lay there like the college student when the hangover hits. The thing is, though, is that this lack of balance is actually a normal thing for Barbie. I’ve been informed that attempts to fix the feet to avoid this tend to end in screaming, threats, fire, and all kinds of fun stuff. People get really passionate about Barbie’s feet.
I do have a few other complaints I want to mention. I’m not thrilled the earrings don’t come out. I feel like it takes away from the ability to dress her however I want. And finally, my personal pet peeve with the line and the main reason I don’t collect Barbies: She can’t hold things. Her hands are open and can’t close. Her inability to hold things actually bugs me to the point that I rarely buy Barbies, because I am really anal and I want my toys to be able to hold accessories. From the looks of things, some Barbies can hold accessories, but this one can’t.
“So, JL, what’s your final judgement here?” Well, I’m glad you asked, Me! I personally feel this doll’s an excellent piece of representation for kids with prosthetics, and one that is long overdue.This toy’s an excellent addition to any Barbie fan’s collection, though I do with she had underwear. I was kinda creeped out by the fact Barbie’s going commando. Other than that, great toy, buy her for Barbie fans of all ages, but remember to get her a stand or something, or else you end up with “Wine-Drunk Barbie, complete with realistic hangover pose.”
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leggomylino · 5 years
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au ceo / trope unrequited love / prompt 8 or 10 / like joshua from svt or yoongi from bts !! 💓💓
au trope + prompt requests! Send me a trope, prompt, etc. and I’ll write a short story or drabble!!
AU Type: ceo!au
Trope: Unrequited Love (I think I did okay- I’ve never written this type of romance so I’m sorry if I failed :c)
Prompt: #8: “Wait, wait. Say that again, please.”
K-pop Boy: Joshua, Seventeen (+ Yoongi, BTS)
~
Genre: ceo!au, angst, comedy, nostalgic
Pairing: ceo!joshua x fem!reader (x ceo!yoongi?)
Word count: ~2.4k
Warning(s): angst, I kinda rushed this one so sorry if I left out any important details…also it’s a bit cheesy and unrealistic lol ^^”
A/N: requests are open~ | Masterlist in BIO! | aaaaaaaaaand as always, yeehaw
~
“Excuse me, Mr. Hong. If you would just sign here, please…”
“Mr. Hong, there’s a call waiting for you on Line Four.”
“Mr. Hong! Mr. Hong, do you have a moment?”
Being swarmed with papers and phone calls and never ending crowds was the life of a CEO. But it was never the life that Joshua Hong wanted.
In his mind he was living a small, peaceful life by the sea within his means, the love of his life at his side and within an absence of the means of time. And he would achieve that, one day.
For now he just had to wait, and continue to play the game. 
As the crowd grew thicker and less transparent, completely blocking his way down the golden-railed hallway ‘til he could no longer move, Joshua halted his pace, took a quick breath, and graced everyone with the usual-plastered smile they’d all been waiting for, addressing his underlings one by one.
“Yes, sign here? Okay…and Janice, you said there’s a call on Line Four? I’ll take it momentarily, tell them I’ll be with them shortly? And Shawn, why don’t we talk during lunch? I’ll have Seungkwan make a reservation–”
One by one he went through them, each and every employee and sales’ person and random fan or citizen that had managed to make their way to the 48th floor of GameOn! Headquarters, handling each concern and care with kindness and as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
The entire act was draining. Thirty minutes later, he needed a nap.
But the moment the mahogany doors opened, the gold-plated doorknob flinching back as he released it to reveal the initials “J.H.” on the cover, yet another face was waiting for him. Sort of.
Hay and wood chips covered the entire room– the delicate swirl-colored carpet in shades of deep blues and cascading velvet, the beach-toned walls that really didn’t match but reminded him of the dream he was pursuing, the crystalline chandelier where a telephone hung among the masses.
“Just so we’re clear,” Seungkwa said, visibly sweating at the seams, “Dokyeom–”
Joshua wasn’t listening. He was too busy scouring the room for whatever had happened to his pet rabbit Mina, who just…jumped…onto the balcony.
Screaming in unison both boys rushed beyond the double french doors, Seungkwa nervously gathering the speckled ball of fluff before shyly passing it to his superior.
“Ha…hahaha…” He bowed. “Sorry?”
“……” His boss looked back inside at the chaotic mess before letting out a sigh, his gentle strokes against Mina’s backside attempting to soothe the terrified creature…and calm his own nerves. “…It’s fine…just call someone to clean this up. Do I wanna know what…?”
His assistant shook his head. “Probably not. I’m blaming Dokyeom. The snake was his idea.”
“Snake?!”
“What? Snake? I don’t know a snake. Unless his name is DK? Haha…ha?”
“…” Another sigh. He stepped back into the office, the brunette boy at his heels. “…I need you to make a reservation for lunch in an hour. I was thinking maybe–”
“Oh! Reservation!”
Seeing as Seungkwan had stopped and cried out with such sudden tenacity, Joshua blinked behind him. “Yes…?”
“Um…” Seungkwan smiled sheepishly. “There’s someone waiting for you in the lobby. After Seokmin dropped by and Mina got loose I sorta forgot about it. She said her name was…y/n?”
Joshua’s face paled. Every motion in his body froze, save his beating heart and racing thoughts.
He gulped. The last time he’d spoken to anyone by that name was…you. Three years ago. “………”
“…Joshua? Are you okay?”
The snapping and abrupt clapping in his face pulled him out of a one-way ticket to Memory Lane. He quickly smiled shyly to avoid any confrontation.
“Yes. I’m fine. Has she been waiting long?” He lifted the fallen plush pin from the ground, resetting it with one hand and placing Mina back into her luxury Barbie Dream home. “What’s her last name?”
Seungkwan thought a moment, picking random wood chips off the floor as he simultaneously flipped through a phonebook for room service. “I don’t think so…and her name was, uh, y/n…l/n?”
Another gulp. Crap. It was you.
He knew what this was going to be about. The same thing, every two to three years. You show up on his doorstep and tell him how you feel without actually saying anything. And everytime, he has to push you away.
Because he knows you. And he can’t have you getting mixed up in this “extravagant” lifestyle. It wasn’t just luxury cars and homes and country clubs and maxing out however many credit cards you wanted. It was busy, and messy, and chaotic. The opposite of you. Often times it got downright evil, shady, and sinful…blackmailings, mindgames, having to uphold an image and reputation. It definitely wasn’t the life he wanted, and he refused to drag you down into it as well.
At least not until after he’d done enough. After he could fall back on an early retirement that would please his family and make everyone happy.
He’d spaced out again. When he came to, Seungwkan was glaring up at him with curiously round brown eyes.
“So should I tell her to come in or…?”
After flinching back and shaking his head (once to recover from shock and once to clear the despondent memory of you), he took a look around and gestured with his hand.
“What do you think?”
Seungkwan looked over his shoulder, up at the ceiling, down at the floor. “Hmmm…probably not. I can–”
The door suddenly opened. “Mr. Hong? Animation Studio’s is still on Line Four and I don’t think they’ll hold much longer…”
Joshua clenched his jaw, closing his eyes a moment. “Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His eyes shifted to his accomplice. “Keep them busy,” he said.
Seungkwan shook his head. “You want me to handle an important business call?! But–”
The door had already shut, the echo muffled by scattered woodchip and torn featherdown from a certain rabbit-tailored Barbie Dreamhouse. 
A groan overtook the following silence.
~
“Wait, wait. Say that again, please…”
It was no use. This year’s visit was going terribly wrong. Just like all the other visits.
But it wasn’t for the same reason as before. 
“I came to get your blessing. If that’s okay…? Oh, and I wanted to drop off this thank you gift. For my birthday? I know it’s a little late, but I’ve been so preoccupied with the wedding invitations and the planning and…sheesh, you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get Yoongi to go anywhere on his days off.” Y/n shook her head, hands clutching a rosary-gold picture frame with her latest masterpiece scribbled within its contents. “He’s always so tired so we usually just end up staying in and watching Netflix all day. But sometimes I’m able to convince him to do a little shopping with me. If I ask nicely and lure him out with cookies…er, that doesn’t always work, though…”
He couldn’t believe it. Here he was thinking he was going to have to let you down easy again, thinking up a basic speech plan to go over so things wouldn’t get messy or sidetracked, and your feelings would be spared, and he could go back to tackling another day in the life of Joshua Hong while trying to make the best of things and stay as cheerful and bright as possible, but…
It was his feelings that were on the line now. And dangerously close to the fire.
Things were not cheerful and bright. They were a desolate wasteland.
“You’re…getting married?”
Those words had cast a curse over every last straw of bliss he had left to grasp onto, and yet they’d brought the brightest smile Joshua had ever seen to cross your face, brighter than the sun and the moon and all the stars he was suddenly wishing he’d paid more attention to, stars he would chase to the ends of the earth for you…
But they were too far now. They were no longer a part of his universe. They were a part of yours…and someone else.
He found it adorable the way you bounced lightly in place at his question, nodding ecstatically. “Yes! I met someone…about a year ago, Yoongi. And he’s recently asked me to marry him.” 
Your eyes dipped down to the cerulean rug lining the large office table Joshua currently had to lean against for support, and a film of sadness fell over the atmosphere like a veil of mist or fog.
“So…I wanted to ask for your blessing. You know, since we grew up together and all…and well, I know we’ve kind of had a..history…but I also wanted to know, you won’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore. Haha,” You scratched the back of your head, turning away sheepishly to enlong the avoidance of eye contact. “I know you’ve always seen my yearly or semi-biyearly…tri-yearly?…visits as sort of an…inconvenience. And I told myself if you really felt that way, I should just get over it all and stop coming around anymore. But…” You smiled. “I know how hard this world of yours is. And that it’s not something you ever wanted. So I promised myself I’d just check in every now and then and make sure you were okay, because I really care about you, Josh.” 
This was it. His world was crumbling.
“But you know, now that I’m getting hitched and all, I probably won’t be able to come around anymore as often.”
Why? Why was his world falling apart?
“I’d be really nice if we could still keep in touch though? That is, if you want to…”
Why did any of this matter to him? He’d wanted you to move on. He’d wanted you to stop coming around, and he was finally getting his wish. So why…?
His grip tightened on the chair beside him. On the corner of the table he was propping himself against.
“…Anyway, that’s enough about me and Memory Lane. Here,” you held out the portrait in your gloved hands, the one’s he’d always see you show up in during the Holiday Season from years past. They’d been sewn and patched over a few times, a stark contrast to the Tiffany diamond and quartz watch around your right wrist. 
You glanced down at it as he took the painting from you, eyebrows raising with a smirk. “Ah, I’m going to be late for lunch. We’re almost finished watching (insert favorite series here). I promised I’d try making dinner tonight, too…”
The two of you shared a look. A look that only lasted mere seconds, but to him felt like twenty more years had gone by.
You gripped his wrists, giving him a tearful smile. “I don’t want to say this is goodbye, so…I hope to see you at the wedding? Or at least hear from you soon.” A content giggle chimed from your lips, the means of an afterthought following. “Oh, and…thanks for putting up with me all these years. You know I’ve meant well, right?”
“……” He felt lost. The only thing he could do was nod.
You beamed. “I’m glad. Again, I always knew I kind of annoyed you or that maybe you got the wrong idea but…you know, I just, wanted to make sure you were doing okay. Anyway,” you let go, and he wished you hadn’t so. Every step back was one he wanted to take forward. “I should get going. Don’t worry if you can’t make it, or if…you know, you’re just, too busy, I understand. I honestly should have stopped coming around so much, but I just…couldn’t help myself.” 
And for a moment, just one moment, Joshua could have sworn he saw a flick of regret. A wavering longing of nostalgia, of something so deeply internalized he didn’t have the time to reach down and discover its true nature, for it was gone just as soon as it had come.
And then so were you. As if you’d never existed at all. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt like he’d lost something; or that maybe you were never real to begin with. Which was blasphemy, absolutely ridiculous, he had known you since you were six.
He observed the painting you’d left for him, lips parting just slightly.
It was a portrait of a long forgotten photograph, one your parents had taken of the two of you when you were twelve, fishing for frogs and bugs and rainbow-colored rocks down by the riverbed of your hometown. The sky was the clearest blue it had ever been that day, the fluffiest of clouds providing the perfect shade along with thick blankets of willow trees, and Joshua was smiling while displaying a handful of crystallized rocks he’d found buried in a pile of mud (which he’d detested having to get dirty for but did so anyway), you proudly swinging a silver-colored fish that gleamed in a spectrum of colors beneath the soft peaks of sunlight.
The portrait was signed at the bottom: “To my best friend Joshua, with love - y/n ❤”
And then everything just…clicked. It was strange, but all those unscheduled yearly visits, the bi-yearly and tri-yearly, and all the time the two of you had spent together before that…everything came crashing down like a whirlwind that suddenly ceased, dropping everything it had been lugging and spinning around. It fell like a sudden ton of bricks.
He studied the painting for hours, locking himself away and politely going through the motions of the day on autopilot. Even when he was away from it, it was fresh in his mind, and the moment he had finished one task he would come back to it, even if it was just for a few minutes. At the end of the day, when everyone else had gone home for the night, he found himself staring at it, preferably you, and your smile. The gleam in your eyes.
He’d always thought you’d been squinting at the camera with the sun in your eyes. But really, you’d been squinting gleefully at him.
And he’d always known, deep down. This was all a carefully hazardous game he’d orchestrated to keep you at bay, telling himself he was protecting you and doing the right thing, but now…
Now, the game was over. He’d won.
But he’d truly lost you.
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bakutae · 4 years
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Hi! I just want to say thank you for taking time to read this and the many other mashup asks you're going to get, congrats on 100!! I'm a bi girl. I'm short, around 154cm tall and I have long brown hair, hazel eyes. I would consider myself nice (my friends say I'm too nice for my own good lmao) and I have a soft personality. I am really emotional so little things like raising your voice at me can make me sad and even make me cry. However, I would never hesitate to stand up for my +
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hey!! i'm so sorry this took so long to be posted 😭😭 you didn't really specify for which fandom you wanted and i went ahead to check your blog and you seemed to have a lot of bts stuff on it so i decided match you up with a bts member!! i hope that's okaay
i match you up with...
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kim namjoon
- honestly there isn't much of a reason why i matched you up with him
- it's more of the vibe that i get from you + the information of you that i got that lowkey sounds so creepy IM SORRY
- he's really gentle, wise, soft and i feel like he'll fit you the best hehe (not saying that the other members aren't any of the characteristics there too)
- y'all the emotionally attached duo
- remember when he said 'i just wanna give you all the shoulders when you cry'?
- he actually really does, no matter how busy he might be with work or writing lyrics
- honestly you don't even have to hit him up when you feel upset because he just kinda knows?? like the two of you are so close and share such a deep + close bond that he just has THAT feeling when you're upset (like how in that one episode of barbie life in the dreamhouse ken knew when barbie was in trouble)
- he's really interested in your hobbies and will watch you hard at work painting and will praise you for every single brush stroke ever
- "oh my god that's such a pretty stroke, you're so talented. i've got such a talented girlfriend"
- he admires every single piece of your work and exaggerates how much he loves them, but he actually really mean it and is really sincere about it
- this might sound really weird but i feel that he would rap freestyle when you are playing the guitar and it ends up being really funny most of the time
- his lyrics are really random and can range from talking about chicken wings to talking about how his stomach was hurting and how he needed to use the bathroom
- and to take it a step further sometimes even makes you record it in the studio chose to keep it for memory's sake
- when the both of you are free and the weather is clear and good enough, the two of you would often go to random fields that he finds on google maps and play soccer there
random date headcanon
//playing soccer w him in an unknown area//
- When she told you about his whole 'searching up where we will play soccer randomly' plans, you were already unsure + unsafe and felt that you two shouldn't be doing it
- "it's fun not knowing where you'll end up," he constantly says
- most of the time the places that he searched up are really nice and the two of you make it an official date place for future dates
- however, there was this one time where the two of you ended up in a secluded area and it was getting dark so the entire time you were panicking internally and was about to cry
- in google maps it described that place as a really pretty please with luscious green trees and magnificent flowers all around
- however, when you actually reached that place it was on settling to see that the place was barren and had no flowers, no luscious green trees and was just a plot of land with dead grass
- when you caught sight of that you already had red lights flashing in your head that hold you to not go further
- but after seeing the excited look on namjoon's face, you felt bad for raising your troubles up and potentially making him feel bad
- and so you went along with it
- the two of you continue on to play soccer on the bare soil but eventually the two of you got really tired and took a break halfway to to explore the place
- because you were already scared to begin with, you insisted on him being at least a foot behind/in front of you
- the two of you walk towards an unknown direction and eventually came to a stop when you found yourself in front of a picturesque scenery
- he immediately pulled out his phone to take a picture of it and wanted to post on the official bts twitter for fans
- the view was so beautiful that the both of you completely forgot what you were there for and stayed there the entire time
- it eventually got dark, and the two of you decided to head back
- of course, the two of you got lost
- you were reaally afraid now, and couldn't help but weep quietly in the dark
- he felt really guilty about it and he decided to link your arms with his and walk you through the area like that the entire time
- it made you feel a lot safer and the two of you eventually got out but you really made sure that he never ever used google maps to play soccer anymore

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80s-roger · 5 years
Text
affair: Dad!Roger x Fem!Reader
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summary: you’re roger’s wife for five years and the last two, you hear tones of rumours about him cheating on you while on tour. you abjure all these rumours because you’re blindly in love with him. however after a huge fight, everything comes to the surface.
warnings: arguement, domestic violence tb
portray: late 80s!Rog, Dad!Rog,36yrs!FemReader
words: 2,450
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their last tour was coming to an end and Queen would be back in UK to begin writing their new album, The Miracle. You missed Roger so much, words couldn’t describe the feeling. You and your three year old daughter, Audrey would sit home at the evenings drawing and reading stories while your husband was out there having the crowd on his feet. 
There were countless times, seeing at the gossip newspaper photos of your man, close to young females while on tour but you refused to believe the worse; him cheating on you. You had to believe it wasn’t true. Just the press trying to upset your family life. You talked with Roger many times on phone about it and he denied it. You had to believe him but deep inside you were sick with the rumors. It was constantly upsetting you. 
This afternoon he was coming home. You asked though, if he wanted you to appear with your toddler daughter at Heathrow but he politely refused saying: “No love, you don’t have to come such a long way.” If he truly missed you, he’d be like yes, are you kidding? and that got you suspicious, starting to believe what the press was saying.
The front door opened up and your husband came home after four months with his suitcases at his hands. Audrey, ran to him happy, “Daddy! Missed you!” she wanted to hug him so bad, that the suitcases fell from his hands and pulled her into his big arms.
“My baby, I missed you too!” he tearfully said to her, rubbing her tiny back. You were standing at the living room watching this tender mercy between these two, smiling at your daughter’s actions. “Let me give you a present.” he gently pulled her off his arms and walked inside with his suitcases.
“What is it, papa?” she was eagerly jumping, dying to receive her present.
“Wait!” he smiled at her and opened the luggage to give her the gift. “Close your eyes, Audrey!” He teased her and she did as she was told but as a toddler, she had a gap between her fingers, trying to see. “Don’t cheat!” he admolished her and she closed her eyes, without cheating. Cheating. The irony… You soured at his last words. He didn’t notice your presence so far. More evidence he was not interested in you. “Look!” He excitedly said to his daughter and the gift was a barbie dreamhouse. Audrey lost it at the sight of a dollhouse.
“Wow!” she gasped in shock.
“Woah, how did you fit it in the luggage?” You laughed at her reaction.
“It doesn’t matter, I had to get rid of some things so I could put it inside the luggage.” He smiled at you and then turned his gaze at your daughter. “For my little princess.” he added.
“Thanks papa!” She hugged him tight and Roger was in awe. “I like spoiling my little only daughter!” He hugged her. “Let me help you set it up at your room.” He gently grabbed the box and they both went upstairs to assemble the dollhouse. You did nothing, by then. Starring outside the window and waiting for Roger to finally come at the living room and talk with you. You wanted to know.
“Ah, you can’t imagine how happy she is upstairs with her new toy!” He happily said coming close to you.
“Good.” You nodded your head but your voice sounded raw.
“Hey what’s wrong?” He calmly said and touched your waist with his palm. At the feeling of him touching you, you distanced yourself from him. “Don’t touch me.” You looked at him with disgust.
“What’s happening Y/N?” He looked at you confused.
“Are you asking me?” You intensely asked.
“Who should I ask?” He ironically answered.
“Are you cheating on me?” You went straight to the topic. His face changed, from happy to terror.
“What are you talking about? Of course not.” He denied and came closer to you, attempting to caress your cheek but you avoided his touch.
“I don’t believe you.” You vertically answered. “You didn’t even attempt kissing me or saying I missed you .” you were heart broken.
“Alright is that what you want? Okay, fine.” he rolled his eyes and stole a kiss from you. But you fell nothing. You didn’t feel the love you used to receive.
“Oh yeah? And that was your duty? Just an asked kiss? No, Roger.” You walked away from him, fidgeting in the entire room.
“Do you really think I cheat on you?” He asked trying to show his innocence. You exhaled and you didn’t have the time to batch the situation. “I read rumours from the newspapers. You’re always seen with women at the photos, like… Really close.” You stuttered, trying to hide the lump in your throat. Υοu looked at him in despair.
“You shouldn’t read the press love.” He hugged you tight. “It does nothing but keep you preoccupied.” You had to believe what he was saying. You were madly in love with him. But you couldn’t stay normal. His publicity had you upset all the time.
“You don’t give me any reason to doubt… I kind of believe you are not loyal to me.” You were really skeptical.
“I am loyal to you…” He cupped with his big palms your face, starring you in the eyes. He does that to hit you right to the feelings. “Don’t even doubt how much I love you.” He refused all these rumours straight to your face. “Okay?” he gently asked caressing your cheek. You were nearly in tears.
“Okay…” You whimpered and hugged him tight, indicating how much you love him. You heard him exhaling while his hand twisted around your hair. “But did you think of me when you were abroad?” You insecurely asked.
“Every single moment.” He smiled at you.
It was night already, you checked on Audrey. She was still playing with the workhouse her papa got. She was all laughs and dialogues with her dolls. She couldn’t speak syntactically right but yet, it was so adorable.
“Baby, you have to sleep now… It’s already ten o’ clock…” You leaned down at her, pulling her away from her dolls and she got grumpy. She’s so daddy’s girl. He’s spoiling her.
“But mama, I want to play.” She pointed at the dollhouse.
“Tomorrow’s another day, you can do that when you wake up.” You caressed her.
“Okay…” She stared at the blue carpet and you pulled her in your arms, taking her to the bathroom for a night’s bath.
You got her all fresh and clean, wore her pyjamas and laid her in her warm comfy bed. You told her a bed time story and she finally slept like an angel. You opened a low light in which she can sleep without crying and closed the door, leaving her to dream.
As you got to the bedroom, you saw Roger, laying in bed with papers at his feet, still wearing his clothes. He already started song writing and the new era didn’t even start for Queen.
“Did she sleep?” He asked checking on you as you undressed, revealing your untouched by him body. But he didn’t react.
“Yes, she was still playing with the dollhouse.” You giggled and wore your nighty with slow moves, hoping for Roger to stop you from doing it. But he didn’t. You were losing hopes for this marriage. The feeling of him cheating on you grew inside. “So what are you doing?” You asked as you laid next to him, watching the papers.
“Brainstorming.” he didn’t even stop what he was doing just to show some interest in you.
“Oh I have an idea, maybe it will drive you to write some cool songs.” You were ready to throw some shade.
“Mhm? What is it?” He asked uninterested.
“Affair… All the world’s gonna know about it. Um, headlines, hard times…” You shrugged nonchalantly. His eyes were wide opened as you said the words.
“Was this a hint or something?” He asked annoyed.
“No it was shade.” You angrily said, believing again the cheating rumours eating you alive.
“Will you ever stop believing the rumours?” he stood up from bed.
“Not when I see you flirting with chicks, Roger!” You finally gathered the strength to call him out.
“I am a married father! How can I flirt with chicks!” He said back at the same tone as you.
“Oh! Now you remembered you’re a husband and a father!” You got out of bed ready to fight.
“Stop the bullshit Y/N!!” He barked. You were afraid Audrey would wake up.
“I know how uncontrollable you can be when you see other females walking around you! I know you fucked girls out there!” You fumed in anger, pointing him out.
“Shut the fuck up! You have no proof and you can’t blame me when I’m not guilty!” He lied. You knew he lied. You were just turning a blind eye all this time.
“I know you didn’t miss me! You didn’t even greet me when you got home! You didn’t say a single I love you on the phone! Hopefully you remembered there’s a kid between us!” The argument was getting really bad. You got face to face saying stuff to each other.
“I didn’t miss you because all you do is complain, you ungrateful bitch!”, he yelled at you but you had to gather all your power to react.
“You’re cheating on me, dishonest and deceitful asshole! You’re acting all this time in front of my face!” You pushed him back but as the tense was getting harder, you were afraid he’d raise a hand on you. He never did but your childhood was based on domestic violence…
“Prove it!” He shouted.
“You want me to prove it?” You bargained and he aggressively nodded. You ran towards the phone and he looked at you shocked. “I’ll just call one of your band mates and you’re dead!” You threatened.
“Put the phone down! You think they have the time to hear you complaining?” He aggressively grabbed the phone from your hands and you exited the bedroom, going downstairs to call from there. He was still behind you, running to stop you. He seemed guilty by his actions.
As you were both in the living room, you were arguing loudly. Audrey could be awake. You wished she wouldn’t hear a thing. She doesn’t deserve being unhappy. She should not know her dad’s a cheater.
“I was off your annoying voice for these four months and here I am again hearing you saying shit! You’re louder than my drums!” He shouted.
“And you’re filthier than I thought! You had me bringing up our child while you were out there banging whores after concerts instead of just doing your job!” You barked and thankfully, not a single tear fell off.
“You’re crazy, you’re making up scenarios… You’re pathetic!” He yelled at you again.
“You know how much I wanted this child and what we went through to bring it in this world and instead of being a loving husband all you do is ignoring me and spoiling your kid!” your voice was trembling and he noticed it but instead of stopping it right there he decided to snap.
“I know why you’re acting like this and you want me to say stuff, don’t you?” He stated but his tone, descended.
“Yes, fucking say it. Don’t play with my nerves.” You were desperate to know.
“I cheated on you.” His voice was all natural and he didn’t seem to feel sorry about it. You knew your heart was ripped in million pieces. You wanted to cry your heart out. “Is this what you wanted to hear?” He was satisfied.
“How long?” You wanted to know the truth. You were drowning inside.
“Two years.” he looked at you in the eyes but didn’t apologise.
“Why… We were happy…” You teared. You were so broken…
“I wasn’t happy. I love Audrey with my entire heart but there was something in me that didn’t complete me.” You both sat at opposite couches.
“You found out you don’t love me. It was all on surface for you. I struggled to carry a child and now all you do is hitting me where I hurt.” Your eyes were red from the pressure. You had to restrain your burst.
“You struggled to find love y/n, not to carry a baby. You just wanted a baby to feel the love you didn’t receive at her age. You wanted a baby and a husband. Guess you got the baby…” he exhaled after hitting you with all your insecurities.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked and you finally started crying. He couldn’t stand seeing you this way by now, he didn’t bother.
“I’m sorry, but we need to divorce. Don’t worry about Audrey. I’ll take care for her. I love her.” he protested.
“Are you doing me a favour right now?” You barked at him.
“No I’m taking care of our child. I don’t love you, not Audrey.” he defended himself.
“So you were really cheating on me all this time. And I tried to ignore all these rumours.” You shook your head disappointed.
“If truth hurts, ignoring it will hurt worse.” he stood up going close to the door.
“So are you going to meet your affair?” You ironically asked, pulling away your tears. He said nothing. His silence was your answer. “Have fun, asshole.” You were really angry but he didn’t say a word. “See you at the court.” You closed the door behind him and walked upstairs again and checked on Audrey. She was crying. She heard you two arguing.
“Mommy, why were you fighting with papa?” She asked when you pulled her tears off her light skin.
“It’s nothing. We were just arguing. It’s normal for mama and papa to fight from time to time.” Not this time. It was temporary. You wouldn’t see him with love anymore. He would be your ex husband by now.
“Oh…” She thought about it for a second. “Where is he now?” She asked, searching for his figure, out of her door.
“He said he would sleep to uncle Deacy until I would not be angry anymore.” You carried all the weight so she wouldn’t change the opinion she already had for her father.
“Will you sleep with me then?” She smiled and you accepted, laying next to her, pulling her in your arms and she closed her eyes as she felt your heart beat going back to normal.
It would be the two of you now…
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locktobre · 4 years
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i think you should post some of ur barbie hcs cuz i love her as herself, esp in the funky like 2010s era as herself stories and i think she should be appreciated more. and as much as i love to find problems in the vlog era stuff, barbie is still a great person
I’ve been sitting on this for awhile debating whether it was worth it to get into but what the heck, I’ll throw some caution to the wind today.
I’ve always wished that Mattel would let Barbie be Jewish. Ever since I learned that Ruth Handler was Jewish, I felt like it made so much sense. But Barbie’s very associated with Christmas, with three Christmas movies, and having “holiday” (really one holiday) dolls every year for the past 30 years. However, inter-faith families exist! The book Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret is very associated with Barbie in my mind, for this reason. In the Family Holiday Traditions vlog, I always feel like Barbie sounds actually envious of Renee’s Hanukkah tradition, but that may be wishful thinking on my part. (As an aside, I wish they’d clarify whether that was a different Renee, or the Renee that we know. I’d love for our Renee to be Chinese AND Jewish! I’d also love to know who Anna is... But anyway.)
Since we see Millicent celebrating Christmas with the girls during Perfect Christmas, and she’s Margaret’s sister, I assume Barbie’s Jewish heritage would come from George instead. George is seen celebrating Christmas in Dreamhouse Adventures, but being Jewish is both a religion and an ethnicity, so that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. They could celebrate Jewish holidays offscreen, or maybe they don’t. Either way, George can still be Jewish, and so can the girls.
Another thing I’ve thought ever since the All About Lists! vlog was posted is the possibility of George being Latino, or at least part Latino, since one of his middle names is Carlos. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, his parents might have just liked the name, or they could have named him after a friend or something, but still, I think about it quite a lot. I thought about it a lot again when they visited Costa Rica and he spoke Spanish, but I mean, anyone can learn to speak Spanish. (And I don’t even know if he was speaking Spanish well, so I don’t really consider that ‘evidence’ or anything. I don’t really consider any of this ‘evidence,’ just speculation.)
So, I generally think of George’s father–George Sr.–as being Latino, and his mother–Martha, the grandma seen in Great Puppy Adventure–as being Jewish. They could easily both be Jewish, but it kind of doesn’t matter. (Btw, I took the names George and Martha from a Life in the Dreamhouse episode where Nikki answered those names during a quiz. The question isn’t heard, but since Barbie’s mother is named MARGARET, and NOT Martha, I decided the question was what are the names of Barbie’s (paternal) grandparents, instead, because that made me so livid and still does to this day. LitD was trash. But I digress.)
Martha says that she and George Sr. traveled a lot, so George Sr. could be Spanish (as in, from Spain) and not Latino. They certainly did enough international travel together to imagine it might be how they met. However, the surname Roberts doesn’t sound very Spanish, so it’s a bit hard for me to imagine him coming from Spain. He could have changed it, but for simplicity’s sake, I have him as an American. He could have mixed ancestry himself, or the Roberts name could have been a changed one from a generation or two back. He’s dead and we don’t really know anything about him (aside from his love of the treasure hunt) so there’s not really anything to go on. I say “Latino” generically because I haven’t come to a point (in writing, etc) where it’s important to specify him/his family coming from a specific country, and there are so many it’s really hard to pick with nothing to really go on. It would basically be at random. (I’m inclined to pick Mexico, because of the beautiful Dia de Muertos Barbie that came out, and it would be nice for her to be able to bond with Teresa over the holiday.)
I don’t really talk about all of this because I feel like people will try to say I’m trying to say Barbie’s not white and that it’ll be a whole mess. Barbie is generally considered to be very, very white. But honestly… that’s where these headcanons come in. Because what if that’s how Barbie herself feels? That she’s too white to really learn about or take part in the culture that’s a part of her family, especially because the relative from that culture is dead now? And since Jewish heritage is (traditionally) matrilineal, she may not feel Jewish enough, because George is the Jewish one. He probably isn’t very religious (as above), so she may feel like she’s not really allowed to be–or allowed want to be–more religious than he is, or even to decide for herself what she wants to do. I don’t think George, or Margaret for that matter, would ever say anything like this, but the doubts could still lurk. Any of this could apply to any one of the girls, but I mostly think about Barbie because she’s the oldest and probably the most likely to get existential (since we already know she has anxiety). 
These thoughts are partially based on friends I’ve known over the years, so I’m not just making it up for the sake of it. I’m not really doing it for drama, either, just trying to build a picture of Barbie as a full, complex person from the pieces that Mattel gives us. Not to say that she doesn’t already have depth, but religion and heritage are two big things that impact a person’s life, and I feel like it’s something they scrupulously avoid with her. If they want to do story lines like that, they have her friends’ backgrounds to explore. I think there’s stuff they could do with Barbie herself that could be very interesting, if a little bit heavy. But hey, I mean kids go through identity crises too. That being said, I never expect any of this to be canon, it’s just how I think of Barbie when I’m trying to picture her life.
And with all THAT all being said, I’m a white person raised in a Christian environment and I generally try to stay in my lane, so part of me always worries that I’m overstepping by headcanoning this, which is another reason I don’t talk about it. But I do try to base things off of actual experiences when possible, as mentioned above, and also do research and read about things when I’m not sure. And when I’m extra not sure, I won’t really do anything with it, either, it just sits in my head. Like, I don’t know if I’d ever write Barbie actually going to learn about Judaism or talking to a rabbi about faith or anything like that, I think I would feel super dicey about that. But for a headcanon, I think it’s okay.
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missfinefeather · 5 years
Text
Wakraya
:3
GhastlyGhifin
Time to be Part Of That World!
-papyrus3e
I'm following a Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse liveblogger.  Not for that liveblog, but from what I've seen… maybe I should.
Solarn
Ladyloveandjustice?
-papyrus3e
yeah
okay fine fucker
There's a Life in the Dreamhouse has a liveblogger? xD
Solarn
She's pretty cool.
okay fine fucker
I'll have to look into her!
-papyrus3e
be warned: she does have a Girl Genius liveblog, which I'm pretty sure is on the list?
okay fine fucker
It is
Solarn
She used to liveblog a lot of different anime and anime-adjacent stuff, including a lot of things that are on the list. Nowadays she does it much more rarely, pretty much exclusively doing monthly Patreon-backed blogs.
-papyrus3e
which I think is pretty cool actually, because that means a lot of it is niche stuff that doesn't get a lot of mass attention
Solarn
Her Tumblr is mostly just a regular anime blog now.
She's also a published author, her first novel came out I believe in late 2018 or early 2019.
okay fine fucker
Ooh!
Solarn
The stress about it was actually a major contributor to the reduced frequency of her liveblogs.
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nathedelstein · 5 years
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25 + 32 💕💕💋
LOVE IS IN THE AIR…
25…Do you believe that age is just a number?
answered here, but...
Lizzie is a laugher. No matter the situation, she laughs — sometimes stuttered, too fast and nervous for it to sound any semblance of joyful; at others, she chuckles like a gentle wind chime, rustling in a summer breeze; and a handful of times, she’s laugh full-bodied and hearty, like she’d never feel sadness again. 
But to Ben’s question, her laugh is different — it is soft, hesitant, unsure of its valence though they are in his bed, nude, swathed in blankets and affection. “Are you worried,” Lizzie starts, a shimmer of sass lining her throat, “that you’re too old for me?” And she shifts her position, on her side, propping her head up with one arm as her eyes searches for his, free hand stroking his hair and cheek. “Or is it the other way around?” 
Lizzie bites her lip, sighs, and offers him a shy, yet mischievous smile (all for him, just for him) and places her lips on his, reassuring herself that yes, age doesn’t fucking matter. And when they part, just a quarter of an inch, she knows that she’s answered his question. 
32…“Don’t leave me, not today.”
— flashforward. 
Back when children were wishing for dolls and train sets and the next video game console, Lizzie only ever wanted one thing — a family; a real one, with a mother who was kind and a father who cared, and she would’ve traded all her material belongings for a taste of something other than the apathy and disappointment shoved into her throat. In a seven-year old’s scrawl, Lizzie would write to Santa Claus for a beautiful new family underneath their tree but every year she’d get a new Barbie dreamhouse, a life-size stuffed pony, or the newest video game — but the only adults that loomed by were the help, a hole in their family photo left by the absentee parents that never cared enough for family Christmas mornings. 
But he doesn’t understand. It had to count for something that her parents kept her and her brother around anyways, that there were times when her father would tuck her in and read her Goodnight, Moon or that her mother attended her fifth grade band concert. No matter that Mr. Kennedy had gotten furious with her when she’d begged and whined for another story and never came into her room again, or that the Kennedy matriarch had showed up, drunk, and fell asleep in the back row. 
“You don’t understand,” she cries, urgent, acid coating her every word as she stuffs her sparse belongings into a bag, “you don’t. They love me, even though they don’t know how to show it; you don’t see everything they do for me.” Sniffling, all of a sudden, Lizzie stops packing and glances up, eyes bloodshot and voice hoarse from crying and shouting from what felt like moments before, and breathing labored she says —
“How could you understand that?” 
Later, regret will bubble up inside her, rotting the inner lining of her stomach, and she’ll cry and puke out her hatred in the safety of her own bathroom — but for now, there is only shock, that she dare say it, dare touch that button, dare push him away when they found a home within each other, running away from a past that stifled their growth, crawling away with their scars.
Lizzie widens her eyes, a stunned gasp emitting from her mouth — and later she knows she should’ve apologized, that she should’ve stayed and told him she didn’t mean it because she didn’t — but she doesn’t. 
So she leaves.
[ ft. @wcrnout ]
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