#in reality they both call each other Barbie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venusacrossthestars · 4 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

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?”

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you

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#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo

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monzabee · 1 year

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baby honey – al12

masterlist

Summary: The one where Arthur swears he’s not thinking about you, his best friend, all the time – just today, yesterday, and tomorrow night.

Pairing: arthur leclerc x reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, unreciprocated feelings (that turn into reciprocated feelings), hurt, comfort, alcohol consumption, being drunk, idiots to lovers, denial is a river in egypt, charles and his big brain, miscommunication, mentions of drunk driving (don’t drink and drive!), jealousy jealousy, cying, google translate French!

Request: “after reading ur newest cl16 fic i want one where reader always liked charles but he gets a gf and she ends up with arthur (who’s her bff?? bffs to lovers 🤔) just a lot of hurt comfort” + “Hi! Can I please request ballerina!reader with either Charles or Arthur, you can choose to write it or do it as a smau, thank you!” + “can you please write something with Arthur + size/height difference?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it is time for the debut of arthur my beloved on this blog. i LOVED all of the requests for this one! i was originally going to name this fic after another taylor song (wink, wink), but then i was listening to baby honey by harry styles and something just clicked, so i hope you guys also agree with me. if anyone is wondering, this is an unreleased song from his first self-titled album. i know the request was a bit different, with reader having feelings for charles first, but i think changing it a little bit and having miscommunication made it a bit deeper. so thank you, anons, for these requests, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Arthur has a problem when it comes to you – and that is not being able to say the word ‘no’. This has put him in some very interesting positions in the past, but whatever happens, it just seems that Arthur is not able to mutter out the word ‘no’ when you ask him of something. It’s always been that way, he supposes. He was never able to deny you when you looked at him with the look in your eyes, and he still can’t to this day. When you call him to ask if he wants to come to a party with you? He’s out the door before you tell him the location. When you suddenly have the urge to watch Barbie movies from your childhood? He brings the popcorn and even sings along to some of the songs he knows the words to. You were there for every one of his races before he got the opportunity to travel around the world to drive on the same tracks his brother and even the legends in the sports did. He came to every one of your ballet recitals until you graduated, and he was kind enough to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers each time. Although this might be the situation, the relationship you and Arthur have are based on equal grounds – meaning that you love and adore him just as he does you. It’s one of relationships you value the most in your life, the two of you having each other’s back since a very young age, and it is a relationship that you don’t ever want to lose. So, when the time came for both of you to move out of your parents’ houses, it came as no surprise for anyone that you two decided to move in together. Arthur wanted to spend his free time, when he wasn’t racing, with you as much as possible, and you were just happy to be with your best friend.

Though he’s always been protective over you and it is nothing new, Arthur can’t help but worry every time you go out on a date with a new guy. In reality, he knows you and Patrick have been going out for a while. You’ve told him about Patrick a few times when you called him when he was away for races, and he’s met the guy, but there’s a feeling he just can’t seem to shake off.

“Are you sure you want to go on this date?” Arthur asks behind the door to your bedroom.

You groan when the earring you’re trying to get stuck in your hair. “For the millionth time, Arthur, I’m sure.” You check yourself in the mirror for the last time before grabbing your handbag and opening you door to come face to face with a worried face. “Why are you so stressed over this?” You ask him, rummaging through the handbag in your hand to find your lipstick.

“I’m not stressed, poupette.” doll. Arthur scoffs, watching you with a stern look on your face. “I’m just making sure you’re feeling up to going out tonight.”

“I’m feeling fine, ma moitié, my other half, you have nothing to worry about.” You assure him with a sweet smile on your face while playfully patting his chest. “Stop acting like this, you look like your mother.”

“Fine, then, you look like my mother.” You shrug as Arthur rolls his eyes. Loud cackles coming from the living room suddenly grabs both of your attention, making you smile even wider. “Lorenzo, Charles, hi!”

The two brothers sitting in your living room gives you bright smiles and Hellos. Charles gives you a glance, eyebrows raised as he asks, “Aren’t you going to be cold without a jacket?”

“You’re not taking a jacket?” A voice exclaims from behind, making you roll your eyes as you point towards Arthur with the tilt of your head.

“You happy?” You ask while raising your eyebrows. “A jacket doesn’t go with my dress.” You explain, expectantly looking at the older driver as you open your arms and pointing to the dress.

“Uh, sure, Y/N.” Charles nods in thought.

Lorenzo hits the back of his brother’s head lightly, shaking his head towards him as he speaks to you. “I think you look lovely, have a good night.”

“Thank you, Enzo!” You beam, walking towards the front door as you yell. “Arthur I’m leaving, don’t wait up!” At the mention of his name, Arthur comes running towards the front door, reminding you that you can call him at any point during the night if you feel uncomfortable, which in return you assure him you’ll be fine and leave after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He sighs deeply as he watches you leave the apartment, and only realises both of his brothers watching him with funny expressions after he closes the door and turns back with the jacket still in his hands. “What?”

“So,” Charles begins when all three of them are sitting on the couch in your living room, getting ready to play a round of FIFA. “How long have you been crushing on Y/N, again?”

Arthur groans, his face contorting up in a grimace. “Not this again, Charles.”

“No, he has a point.” Lorenzo mumbles, siding with his brother. “You’ve had a crush on her since you were seven, Arthur.”

“Exactly!” Charles exclaims, pointing to Arthur excitedly. “Why haven’t you done something about it yet?”

“Because she is my best friend, you idiots.” Arthur shakes his head, choosing to focus on the game which just started on the screen instead of insistent look Charles and Lorenzo give him. “And, stop saying I have a crush on her.”

Charles lets out a disapproving sound as he, too, turns towards the game. “Friends don’t look at each other like that.”

“We look each other normally.”

“You look like you want to make love to her every time you look at her.” Charles shrugs, making both his older and younger brother turn to him with disgusted looks on their faces.

“Charles!” Arthur complains. “No!”

“Please don’t ever use the words 'make love' in the same sentence as Arthur and Y/N.” Lorenzo begs, grabbing the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.” Charles shrugs, as he takes the opportunity to shoot his first goal. “But you can’t deny the fact that your overprotectiveness over Y/N doesn’t stem from your feelings for her. You’ve always been that way and it’s impossible for you to not feel something more for her.”

Arthur frowns, not because he is losing by the third minute of the game, but because of Charles’ words. “We’ve been friends since we were babies, Charles, of course I’m protective over her.”

“Which is understandable.” Lorenzo tries to reconciliate.

Charles lets out another disapproving mumble. “So you’d be okay with me asking her out?”

“Excuse-moi?” Excuse me? Arthur looks at his brother, appalled. “You’re going to do what?”

“Ask her out, Arthur. Would you be okay if I asked her out?” Charles repeats himself in a nonchalant manner, scoring another goal.

“Of course not!” Arthur cries out. “Why would you ask her out anyway? She’s seeing Patrick.”

Charles shrugs noncommittally. “She might break things off with him. You know, I always had a feeling she had a crush on me.”

“Charles.” Lorenzo scolds his younger brother.

However, Arthur is busy going through every single interaction you’ve had with Charles over the years; trying to find some actuality to his brother’s words. He pauses the game to turn towards his brothers, his eyes angry as he looks at Charles with a locked jaw. “No, you cannot ask out my best friend, you porc!” pig.

“Why?” He asks, with a fake innocent look on his face.

“Because, firstly, she is not a pawn you can use to prove something to me in some messed up game. And, two, she is mybest friend, my roommate and my–” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows how he would end the sentence if he would – which makes him think for a moment that his brothers just might be right.

“Okay, then.” Charles concedes, unpausing the game and taking advantage of the confused state Arthur is in to score, yet, another goal.

Though the game is going on, Arthur can’t seem to focus on it because he is too busy thinking about you, and whether he’s been in love with you his entire life.

It’s a couple weeks later when Arthur walks through the doors of the ballet studio you work at. He noticed over the few weeks that you’ve been down ever since you’ve stopped seeing Patrick, so he wanted to surprise you. He greets the old receptionist who works out in the front, giving her one of the tulips he got for you on his way there. When he gets in front of the classroom you usually teach in, he watches you with the kids as a soft smile find its way onto his face. He watches as you fix the techniques of some of the girls who are struggling, but instead of appearing upset, they are smiling as they try their best to fix their postures. When you move towards the old stereo on the corner of the room, he knows that the class is about to end – because something you do at the end of every class is letting the student dance freely to the music on the radio without giving them instructions. He watches as one of the smaller boys in the class shyly approach you, motioning you to bend to his height with his hand and then whisper something in your ear. You talk for a while, and he watches as the boy leaves with a smile on his face, which wasn’t there before, after giving you a hug and a small bouquet of flowers. Arthur waits until the class is over and all the kids have left the small studio to walk in.

“I was wondering if you offered any private lessons?” He asks with a boyish smile on his face.

You turn towards him, fast, when you hear your voice. Laughing as you cross the room and throw yourself into his waiting arms. “You couldn’t dance even if Marianela Núñez gave you dance classes herself, Turo.”

“Well I don’t need classes from her,” Arthur rolls his eyes. “All I need is you.”

You purse your lips, trying not to smile too widely, at the hidden meaning behind his words – the one which you somehow convince yourself that you’re imagining ever being there. Lightly leaning your head against Arthur’s chest, you begin talking. “You’re awfully sweet today, did you know that?”

He presses a light kiss onto the crown of you head, mumbling in thought. “Well, I missed you because I was alone at home all day. So I thought I’d come surprise you.” Pulling away slowly, he gives you the bouquet of tulips he is holding. “Speaking of which.”

“They look like the ones you used to get me after my recitals!” You squeal, taking the bouquet from his hand and inspecting it closely. “I love them, Arthur, thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked them, poupette.” He smiles. “Although, it seems that I have some competition today.”

You smile and shrug at the mention of the other bouquet sitting next to your bag. “Oh, that’s Leon. Some of the older kids at school’s been bothering him because he’s taking ballet classes.”

“You made him smile,” Arthur recalls, one of his hands cupping your cheek, which makes you look up to him. “Probably made his day, too.”

“I hope so.” You tell him, honestly. “He seem to like the classes; I would hate to see him leave just because of bullies at school.”

“You are a very good teacher, you know that?” Arthur murmurs, watching as a rosy colour takes over your cheeks.

“Stop it.” You huff, trying to push him off of you in a faux attempt. “Did you come here to make me blush, ma moitié?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. I thought we could go on a walk? At the marina, before it gets dark.”

You pretend to think for a moment, but smile, nonetheless. “Can we also get burgers?”

Arthur tries to profess his feelings for you when the two of you go on your ‘date’, he really does. When he sits down and thinks about it, rationally, he can convince himself that you have feelings for him, just the way he does for you. He can see it in the way you glance up at him every time he makes a joke, or the way you lean into his touch every time he touches you, which is a lot. He thinks he sees something every time you end up too close to each other; even convinces himself that perhaps you are expecting a kiss with the way your eyes slide to his lips a couple of times. But every time he tries to force himself to kiss you or tell you how he feels, an apprehensive doubt takes over his entire brain, somehow convincing himself otherwise, that doing so would only end up in you two getting completely messing up your friendship.

There’s also a part of his brain which consistently reminds him that it is Charles you have feelings for and not him. He doesn’t have a reason why he came to this conclusion; you’ve never explicitly told him about having feelings for his older brother, but there’s a part of him that still clings to Charles’ words – even though he didn’t actually mean anything by them. So as any person his age, who is going through what he’s going through, he takes a step back to observe. It all starts when the two of you go out for grocery shopping. It’s not a common occurrence that Arthur accompanies you, mainly because he is on the road most of the time, but he tags along because “He doesn’t want you to carry the bags on your own.” The two of you are busy fighting over cereal when you run into Charles, who provides a solution by offering that you buy both of the boxes. While you tell him it is probably the only way you and Arthur are going to agree on the fact, he is too busy picking apart every part of the interaction to see whether there could be any possibility of you having any feelings for his brother. The worst of them come a few weeks later, when Arthur and Charles come back from a race. All four of you, including Lorenzo, are seated at your dining table, enjoying takeover pizza when Charles announces that he started to see a girl. You all congratulate him, but after the conversation dies down, Arthur notices a familiar look of longing in your eyes. And that’s when he realises that you have feelings for Charles, and not him, and he absolutely needs to get over his feelings for you before it blows up in his face.

A couple of weeks later, one of his friends from racing invite you to a party. Arthur follows you, of course, because he doesn’t want you to go alone. He know it’s a terrible idea, though, once he sees you in the dress you chose for the party. It’s feels as if it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes (or his hands) off of you. He manages to let out a strangled answer when you ask him if you look okay, “You look good, Y/N.” The smile you give him return is so sweet, that he suddenly remembers that he should schedule an appointment with his dentist when he has the time. Though he doesn’t manage to convince you to take a jacket with you, he picks up his own as a precaution. The party is in full swing by the time the two of you arrive, which you light-heartedly scold him because the two of you are late. He considers apologising at first, but when he sees the smile on your lips, he just lets you drag him towards the bar without any objections.

“What do you want to drink?” You ask him, leaning over the bar to take a look at the limited menu. You know he wouldn’t want to drink if he was driving the two of you back home, but since you took an Uber to the night club, Arthur decides to drink as well.

“I’ll have tequila.” He answers after looking at the menu thinking about it for a second, and then turns to you. “You want to do shots?”

“Yes, please.” You nod, giving him your ‘prettiest’ smile. “Five?”

“Three.” He shakes his head and gives you a stern look. “And no mixing alcohols, either.”

You pout as you watch him order your drinks, your arms crossed over your chest pushing your breasts together. “You’re no fun.”

Arthur’s eyes fall down to your chest for a moment but he promptly fixes his gaze up to yours, as he places his hand on your hip to draw you close to him. He leans down towards you to whisper in your ear, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

You purse your lips, choosing to play with the buttons on his shirt as a distraction. “We haven’t gone out to party in a while, sue me for wanting to have fun.”

“We will have fun.” Arthur contends as his thumb starts drawing circles on your hipbone. “Just not by doing something which will cause you to wake up hungover tomorrow.”

You give him a sarcastic smile. “Hm, mon chevalier en armure brillante.” my knight in shining armour. You turn to the bartender who brings over your drinks. “Thank you.”

Arthur eyes the bartender up and down, his look over quickly morphing into a side-eye once he realises where his eyes are looking at. He somehow pulls you closer to himself, caging you between himself and the bar, and lifts your chin up with two of his fingers to gaze into your eyes. “Be good, baby,” He tests. “Honey.” He warns.

“I am always good.” You counter, eyebrows furrowing in confusion because of his sudden possessive streak. “Are you okay?”

He waits until the bartender is tending to other customers to answer your question, his voice is in a lower octave but still somehow audible to you over the loud music in the club. “He was looking at your chest, poupette.”

“My boobs look great in this dress.” You reply while shrugging, the aloof look in your face making Arthur frown. “You didn’t need to act like a caveman, you know. The poor guy was probably scared.”

“Well, it’s too late now.” He replies, aloof, and downs one of his shots. “Are we doing this or not?”

It’s a bad idea, after all, tequila shots. Because after you’re done with the first three, you somehow convince Arthur that you need more, which means the both of you end up drinking six shots in the span of half-an hour. The bright side of this situation is that you convince Arthur to dance with you on the dancefloor, which he wouldn’t have done if he was sober. At some point throughout the night the two of you end up getting separated, which has you going around the night club looking for Arthur. You decide to ask some of his friends he introduced to you earlier, who tell you that he’s probably out taking some fresh air. He’s by himself outside of the club, leaning against a wall when you find him.

“What are you doing here all alone?” You ask him, tilting your head sideways to take a good look at him.

“It’s quieter out here,” Arthur shrugs, opening his arms and motioning you to come closer. “You’re going to freeze.”

You find yourself in his arms in record time, not that you could say no to his hugs anyway, his sway making you frown. “Are you okay, Turo?”

He smiles lazily at the nickname as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I’m drunk, ne devrait probablement pas conduire.” probably shouldn't drive.

“It’s okay, I’ll order an Uber.” He keeps his arms around you as you busy yourself with your phone, entering the address of your apartment.

Just like at the bar or when you were waiting for the Uber to arrive, Arthur doesn’t let you go completely when you’re in the backseat of the car. He makes you wear his jacket before you get into the car, though the oversized clothing doesn’t stop him from managing to make contact with your skin. He has a hand on your thigh, which is exposed because your dress keeps riding up. You make sure to keep an arm around him when you stumble through the door to your apartment.

You tell him to wait for you in his room and that you’ll be right over after you take your heels; however, he responds by throwing you over his shoulder as he walks through the corridor which leads up to his room. “Arthur, you’re drunk, put me down!”

“This doesn’t count as drunk driving.” He provides as an excuse, only putting you down when he enters his room – thankfully without any accidents.

You sit on his bed to take of your heels just as he jumps onto it, making it teeter because of his movements and makes you laugh at him. Shrugging off the jacket he gave you, you walk towards his closet to hand up the garment before the two of you forget about it. Arthur watches you move around his room with dazed eyes, trying very hard not to laugh when he sees you struggling with the hangers and cursing under your breath. His eyes move down your body when you kneel to get to the last drawer to get out a pair of sweatpants for him, which makes him silently groan at the sight. You walk towards him when you get out the sweats and a shirt for him to change into, poking his stomach to make him sit up straight. “Take off your shirt.”

“Are you trying to get me naked?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips. “At least take me out to dinner first.”

“I cook you dinner all the time, Arthur.” You drawl, holding out the clothes for him to take.

He takes them while mumbling, “And I try my best to eat and enjoy all your attempts.”

“Casse toi, go away, asshole.” You snap, starting to walk out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

You scoff, calling out back at him over your shoulder. “To get you water and Advil, you better be changed by the time I’m back or I’m putting you under the cold shower.”

He is, thankfully, changed by the time you get back with a glass of water and the painkillers you promised, You place them onto his nightstand, and face him. “Off to bed, you go.”

“Stay here tonight?” He asks you, but his voice is devoid of his previous playfulness.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, chéri.” You press a kiss against his cheek and then, feeling bold, you press another kiss to the beauty mark right above the corner of his lips. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night, no matter how hard he tries to fall asleep. He keeps trying to convince himself to go to sleep, telling himself that the quicker he does, the quicker he’ll see you in the morning, but he is unable to do so. At some point in the night, he finds himself slipping through your door. He ends up slipping under your covers too, and pulls you against his chest, causing you to stir in your sleep as you cuddle his side.

“Go back to sleep, honey.” He whispers as he closes his eyes, and he finally drifts off to sleep when he finally has you in his arms.

You’re sleeping on top of him when he wakes up the next morning with his face buried in your hair. Your closed eyes and even breathing indicates that you’re still asleep, which causes Arthur to do his best to stay still not to wake you up. He soaks up every moment of it until your eyes flutter open and you let out a low whine, asking, “Why are you in my bed? How’d you get here?”

“I sneaked in.” He replies, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning, baby.”

“I’m loving the new nicknames; baby, honey?” You mumble, nuzzling your nose against his jaw. “Why’d you sneak in?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He confesses with a strained look on his face, and then he announces. “You’re not my girlfriend.”

You pick up your head so quickly, you think you’re going to break your neck. “I’m aware of that fact, Arthur.” You manage to get out in a clipped voice.

“And I should probably be thinking about protecting our friendship first, but I have to say this even though you have feelings for my brother.”

“Your brother?” You look at him with your mouth agape. “You think I have feelings for your brother? Lorenzo? He’s like my brother!”

He’s taken aback by your question. “No- not Lorenzo! Do you have a crush on Lorenzo?”

“No! You idiot, why would I have feelings for Lorenzo?” You ask him as you scramble to get off of him, letting yourself fall to the bed and pick up your pillow to hit Arthur over the head with. “I don’t have feelings for either of your brothers, other than being friends, you disgusting pig!”

“You don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks you tentatively which earns him another hit on the head with the pillow. “Okay, would you please stop that?”

“No, I don’t have feelings for Charles, either! Oh my god, Arthur, what is wrong with you?” The look you give him reflect how much you’re hurt, your fingers occupy themselves with the edge of the pillowcase as you ask, “Do you honestly think I’d be in bed with you like that if I had feelings for your brother?”

He’s careful as he asks, “…No?” He lets out a frustrated groan as he pushes himself to get to a standing position. “I don’t know what to think, anymore. I like you so much that somehow you’ve taken over my entire brain!”

“You… like me?” You ask him, breath hitching in your throat.

“No.” Comes his reply.

“So, you don’t like me?”

His hands grasp the roots of his hair. “No, I adore you, I am utterly infatuated by you, I am so besotted by you that every moment of my waking days are filled with the thoughts of you, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I even think about you when I’m on the track–”

“Arthur, breathe.” You warn him, your hands quickly going over his to try and get them off.

“You really don’t have feelings for Charles?” He asks in a small voice. You answer him by shaking your head, which prompts him to ask, “Then why were you sad when he announced he was seeing someone?”

“He told me you’d confess your feelings to me before he ever found someone to date for himself.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth dipping as if you’re trying to keep tears at bay. “I guess I somehow made myself believe you would.”

“Baby–” He stops himself. “Honey, please don’t cry.” He reaches over you to wipe away some of the stray tears that have escaped your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I am stupid.”

“Very much so, yes.” You agree with him as you lean against his touch. “Though, I’m surprised you didn’t notice me flirting with you over the past year.”

“You’ve been flirting me for a year?” He asks you, baffled.

You fix him with an unamused look. “Do you think I go around talking about my boobs with everyone?”

“You better not be.” He scoffs as he draws you closer to him.

“I just might do so if you don’t do something about it.” You egg him on without changing the expression on your face.

You squeal as Arthur picks you up and gently throws you down on the bed, quickly changing his position to hover over you as he presses kisses all over your face. “Mine,” He announces. “Mine, my girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” You breathe out. “But I liked the others more.”

“Which ones?” He asks while letting his finger trace over the outline of your lips.

“Baby, honey, I don’t even know what you were trying to say.” You giggle.

“Mine.” He whispers. “I was trying to say that you’re mine.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #arthur leclerc smut #arthur lecler fluff

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notyourhetloki · 10 months

Text

boy doll (Ken x male Reader)

Reader: he/him

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: No one asked for this but I was inspired so here you go! I'm cringe but I'm free!! Requests are open btw

Warnings: NOT spoiler free, slightly possessive Ken

Song Rec/Mentioned: Hozier - Like Real People Do

—

Just like Allan or Midge, you were one of a kind. A new doll to grace the streets of Barbieland... how exciting!

You were quickly one of the boys, getting along immediately especially with Allan and... one blondie named Ken.

Your favorite place in town was the beach, so you naturally became friends first with beach Ken (you know... the one whose job was to beach).

At the beginning he was shy, but soon warmed up to you as you seemed to get him. He even asked for advice on some personal problems.

For example, there was something about him bringing patriarchy to Barbieland and brainwashing all Barbies a few months ago... yeah, he still needed to address that. But after some help with his guilt and long apologies to each and every Barbie, he started feeling more like himself.

You liked his personality, he was funny and charming and always excited about his favorite activities. It was truly enjoyable watching him do his thing, and you weren't afraid to let him know that.

"Good job, Ken!" or "Keep going!" made part of your daily vocabulary.

And oh, he noticed that. I mean, his other Ken friends also hyped him up but... you actually felt so genuine, so... different somehow.

For whatever reason, Ken began feeling jealous of you. He hated seeing you compliment any other Kens or Barbies... He just felt possessive and he didn't know why. You were just his friend, after all...

But one day he snapped once he saw you sharing a laugh with Simu!Ken, joking around innocently. He grabbed you by the wrist and took you to his Mojo Dojo Casa House, where he could have you all by himself.

You thought to yourself that maybe he was acting jealous, but you didn't want to create any expectations... You could be one of a kind but you were still a boy doll, not a Barbie...

In reality, you really liked him... and were not sure where to put so many feelings all of a sudden. You wanted to be his boyfriend, but that just felt weird, right? To want to hold his hand and walk around with matching clothes, to call him 'love' and 'baby' and even... kiss him...

NO. You couldn't think that! That was ridiculous, and it would never happen anyway... he didn't want you.

Or so you thought.

At his house, you were sitting side by side listening to music when Ken decided to look at you. Focused on the lyrics, you didn't notice him staring, looking at your perfect hair and beautiful eyes, and... inviting lips.

He felt crazy, completely out of his mind! What was going on with his feelings? A few months ago he was simping for Barbie and now... now he wanted you. He felt seen by you and that made his chest ache (weird).

The reality was, Ken liked Barbie because that was what he was made for... but now that he was free, he liked you because... because he chose you.

In an involuntary motion, he moved his hand to brush yours. The touch was swift but electric, and you both felt it.

You quickly shot a look at him, confusion and hope mixing inside you... but as soon as he touched your hand, he was up and gone.

"Ah, sorry... I-I have to... I have to go." He stumbled out of the room and ran outside, not looking back.

You were left sad and confused, did you do something wrong? Was it just a mistake? You didn't know...

After what seemed like a couple of hours, you decided to go to the beach to ease your mind a bit. The sun was setting and there shouldn't be a lot of people to disturb you.

But Ken was there, playing his guitar. You walked slowly so you didn't startle him, and gently sat by his side. He immediately stopped playing, looking at you with big blue eyes. "Hey..."

"Hey... May I?" you responded, pointing at his guitar. He nodded, handing it over to you.

You started playing a Hozier song, you figured he wouldn't know it, and you hoped he picked up on the message.

"I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do."

You looked at his eyes while singing, and immediately felt a shift in the air. His teary eyes shone while he admired your face, your voice... you were singing to him, right? He couldn't possibly be this delusional.

After you were done, you quickly got up to leave but were interrupted by a hold on your hand, pulling you down.

"(Y/N)! Don't go just yet..." You sat down again, face burning with sudden embarrassment. You couldn't believe you had played guitar to him, but you did!

Ken looked at you in awe, not knowing what to say. His head was full of a thousand things he wanted to confess but, nothing could evoke what he felt just right.

He looked down and up at your eyes again a few times before deciding... suddenly he grabbed both sides of your face and kissed you tenderly.

You were shocked at first, but not a few moments later started kissing him back, lips gently meeting each other in tandem.

When you finally parted, Ken breathed a sigh of relief, smiling while taking your hands in his. "No one has ever played the guitar for me before..."

"Well, I'm here for whatever you need me." You grinned back, squeezing his hands gently. "I've always been here..."

"I know, baby boy. I know..." You laughed a little at the way he called you, drawing a big smile from him. "You like that? Baby boy?"

"I'm fine with that, sure..." You continued to grin, holding his hands while admiring his face. He looked so beautiful when he was happy...

"Woo woo! Go get it, boys!" A sudden voice cheered from the sea, Mermaid!Barbie rising her arms in excitement as she looked at you both before disappearing again into the sea.

You and Ken laughed hysterically at the scene... and for the rest of the night, he never released your hand from his.

—

#ken #ken x reader #ken x male reader #ken x you #barbie #ryan gosling #imagine #y/n #self insert #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #notyourhetloki

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angelofthenight · 5 months

Text

Kenchanted Pt.1

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Lost in the chaotic and gritty human world, you come to Ken’s rescue. He’s determined to find his one true love who is also lost in the human world, Barbie, and despite your cynical and pessimistic view of “true love”, you help. You and Ken’s views of life and love are constantly clashing and arguments constantly follow. Yet the more time you spend together, you both begin to fall in love with the epitome of everything you once disagreed with. But you are both promised to others and you are from two different worlds, pink and grey.

Warnings: Swearing, V brief harassment (nothing intense), YN thinks Ken is mentally ill/disturbed, Mentions of police

( Super special thanks for my pookie mutual @detectiveapparatiagreen for proofreading for triggers💖 )

Word Count: 3.5k

Tropes Used: Grumpy x Sunshine, She fell first/He fell harder, Slow burn, Unexpected/Unintentional pining, Fantasy vs Reality

( This is based off the Disney movie Enchanted so it’s kinda like an AU, with a touch of Warm Bodies and Aquamarine. Also I named YN’s boyfriend after Oppenheimer in honor of Barbenheimer but I just realized that a Robert is in Enchanted too😭. Also this is steering off a bit from canon in the Barbie movie to cater more to Enchanted’s storyline so Ken doesn’t become a typical man/antagonist.

And lastly YN is basically Ken’s opposite personality-wise and clothing color palette-wise, I typically always have all my YN’s fashion style ambiguous in my stories unless it’s a direct effect to the story so that’s why I’m just forewarning )

Table of Contents

(R/n) = Roommates name

“God, learn to have a little fun, bitch!”

You flipped out your middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away without looking back at the man near the bar. Despite your platant rejections and constant explanations that you were about to leave the club, the man that approached you with sexual intentions still ran his mouth on how you should let him buy you a drink. You endlessly declined and when he began to grow impatient and rude that’s when you told him off and marched off to find your roommate, (R/n), in the crowd who had gone to retrieve your coats.

The music thrusted into your eardrums and rumbled your brain so intensely you wondered if you’d be able to get away with calling off work the next morning. You leaned against a wall to take off your heels, leaving your feet in just your pantyhose as (R/n) reunited with you holding both hers and your own jacket in her arms. She laid your jacket over your shoulders and you instantly huddled it around your short dress to prepare to step into the breezy, rainy night.

“Of course the night we finally have the energy to go clubbing is the night we have work in the early morning.” (R/n) chuckled into your ear as the two of you left through the doors in giggles. Once out into the storming outdoors, (R/n) and you stood by a wall under some shade as she began to order an uber through her phone to get you guys back home. You yawned as you people watched while you waited for her to order, letting your eyes wander and linger on the LA characters that either rushed past you with jackets over their head or walking with umbrellas.

Some you could assume were clubbing like you, some ran to catch cabs, some looked to be just getting out of work. Each person that crossed your line of vision were all different and unique… but there was one specific individual that made you do a double-take: the bleach blond man wearing rollerblades and blindingly bright neon that stood out in the dark night.

He was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk getting drenched by the rain with his head in his hands, seemingly sobbing dramatically. You frowned in concern and curiosity. You faintly nudged your friend. “Is that guy okay?” Your friend looked up at you with confusion until she looked over to where your eyes were locked. She wasn’t as worried as you and simply brushed him off. “Huh? Oh… Just leave him to it.”

That offered no apathy to cease your attention on the bold man. You just couldn’t brush him off no matter how hard you tried, it was like you were feeling this magnetic pull towards him. “I’m just gonna go check on him.” You told your friend as you stepped into the thundering storm with your hand acting as a shield above your eyes to prevent rain hitting them, and began walking towards the perfectly tanned stranger.

You stopped once you were right next to him, the cold droplets of water quickly dampening your styled hair. “Hey. Are you alright?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you over the rain.

The bleach blond thrashed his face out of his hands to look up at you with tears endlessly flooding out of his blue eyes and his lips trembling. “No! I am not alright!” He loudly wailed out. “Barbie got arrested! And they wouldn’t take me with her! I tried to follow them but then I got lost in this humongous place! But while I was wandering I discovered that men on horses rule this world and at first that seemed so awesome but I still couldn’t even do anything because I need a bunch of papers to do stuff! And even though I am a man, people are still not being very nice to me!”

He already lost you a while ago with his fast yet confusing words which prompted you to stare blankly, but his last complaint resonated with you enough to erupt a chuckle from you. “Yeah, well, welcome to LA.”

The man halted his dramatic crying to stare at you with his watering eyes lighting up. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a sniffle and a grateful tone of voice. Your smile twitched down and your brows furrowed at him.

“And I lost my visor cap! And now I am leaking from my eyes!” He suddenly exclaimed as he touched his wet cheeks. “But the worst part of it all is…” he reached up to grip onto his soaking wet blond locks, “my hair is WET! Why is the sky sprinkling water and making my hair flat and squishy?!” He yelled and physically jumped and yelped like a child when lightning cracked in the sky.

You didn’t mean to just stare blankly stare at him with your mouth slightly open and your eyebrows slightly furrowed, but you just didn’t know how to react to how this man, who you were now assuming wasn’t right in the head, was acting. “You mean the rain?” You finally asked with multiple confused blinks.

The man harshly sniffled again. “Well, I HATE the rain!” He yelled while glaring up at the sky like he now had a vengeful grudge against it.

You kneeled down next to him to be at eye-level. “Do you have your phone with you? Or any money?” The man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve never owned a phone.” He looked back over to you, the rain dripping down his face washing his tears away. “And what would I need money for?”

You blinked, dumbfounded in its rawest form. You just stared at him again with a complete loss for words at his question. You looked him up and down, taking in every neon detail on his skater outfit. You probably looked like you were seeing an alien for the first time. “…Do you need me to call somebody for you?”

He vaguely chuckled with a small smile as he looked at you like you were the weird one. “I don't think they'd hear you from here.” Again, your jaw went slack at your loss for words; intense confusion baffling you. “What?”

You glanced around, trying to find some sort of camera crew. Your eyes returned to the blond man who cradled his knees to his chest and reached up to touch his wet hair. He was pouting and wearing the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You needed to help this poor, troubled guy.

“What’s your name?” He took his hand out of his hair and released his knees, letting his legs fall straight as he looked at his neon strain roller blades. “Ken.” “No, like, what’s your full name?” You added. He tore his eyes off his feet to look back at you. “Kenneth or And Ken.”

You forced an awkward laugh and smile as you tried to hide how you were beginning to lose your patience. “No, what’s your last name?” Ken gave you another weird look. “How many names do you people have?”

Your frown began to deepen as your annoyance began to grow visible in your features. “…So it’s just Ken?” You asked, a slight snap to your voice. “Well it’s usually Barbie and Ken.” Ken explained with a pep to his own voice. Your brows crinkled, “You keep mentioning Barbie. Like the doll? Are you named after Barbie’s boyfriend Ken or something?”

Ken shook his head with a toothy smile. “No, I am Ken.”

‘This guy must have escaped from the ward.’ You mentally noted. “Where exactly are you from, Ken?” You asked, hoping to get a solid enough answer to help you navigate where he needs to get to.

“Barbieland.” Ken answered without hesitation, leaving you once again baffled. A loud thunderclap snapped you back into your senses as the rain began to pick up. You looked over your shoulder at (R/n) who pointed at her phone, trying to tell you the uber was about to pull up. You looked back to Ken who returned to sadly staring at his rollerblades and clutching his sopping wet hair.

You pursed your lips together, deep in debating thought, until you let out a groaning sigh. You rose to your feet and draped your jacket over Ken’s head and shoulders. He looked up at you with surprise and opened his mouth to say something but you strictly cut him off. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” You instructed him before rushing over to your dry friend.

“Okay, so Boris will be picking us up in a gray Toyota and I’ll just request what you owe me on Paypal-” “I think we should take him with us.” You cut (R/n) off as she watched the tracking map on Uber, her eyes snapping up towards you. She glanced over at Ken getting pretty comfortable in your jacket on the sidewalk curb before looking back at you with an eyebrow raise.

“(Y/n), what?” Now she was the baffled one looking at an alien over how out-of-character your request was. However, a smirk stretched across her lips. “Usually I’m the one wanting to bring home strange men at night.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a glare. “It’s not like that.” You glimpsed over your shoulder at Ken.

“That guy is the farthest thing from my type as you can get.”

You turned back to (R/n). “And you know I would never do that to Rob.”

(R/n) visibly cringed and shut her eyes, holding her hand up to stop you. “Ew, I’ve told you before I don’t like to hear that guys name on girls night.” You slapped her hand out of your face. “We’re not gonna have this argument again right now.” You grumbled, knowing how passionate (R/n) was about verbalizing her distaste for your boyfriend Rob. She shook her head. “We’re not because you didn’t say his name.”

You sighed, dismissing that whole rift in the conversation. “I just can’t leave him like this. He’s lost and confused and will get sick in this rain.” You explained to your roommate who didn’t seem to even mind. “As long as I don’t have to give up my room or share my morning waffles and we lock our bedrooms. And if he ends up being a thief or murderer or rap-” You cut her off.

“He’s not staying the night. I just wanna get him out of the rain and send him back to whatever mental institution he came from. He is not staying the night.” You stated with a stern expression. He’d be out of your apartment quicker than he got there. It’s not that you didn’t have room for a guest, other than prioritizing you and your friends safety, you just didn’t want to take care of this crazy man any more than you had to.

After (R/n) told you you’d be taking the heavier load on the overall cost, you hurried back over to Ken who was still wrapped up comfortably in your jacket. You planted your hand softly on his shoulder, grabbing his attention rather quickly. “Come on, Ken. You can get dry at my place and we’ll try and get you home.”

Ken’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and tried to stumble up to his feet due to his rollerblades before you grabbed his muscular arm to help him up safely. You pushed away the observation of how tall he actually was when he stood up to focus more on wheeling him over to the Uber (R/n) was waving you over to.

Ken skated circles around you and (R/n) as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building as he talked your ear off. “-and then we had to ride a snowmobile through the snow, which was very cold and not good for my hair. And then that’s when we rollerbladed into Venice Beach. Barbie did not like your world by the way, like within the first second we got there her mood instantly bummed out. And then-”

As soon as you got him seated in the car, he instantly began telling you how he got to that sidewalk curb that somehow involved his whole life story. You tuned him out about halfway through, you just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling you; Barbieland, Barbie, disco parties, Kens, Barbies, beaching, Mattel, a portal, Barbie’s flat feet, horses.

It was crazy to you. His story, his words, his personality, his clothes, quite literally everything about him. You nearly began to regret picking up just another LA nutjob on the street.

“-and now I’m here with you tired looking ladies in this kinda ugly, gloomy building. They should paint these walls a brighter color. Like pink! Or blue!” Ken joyfully said with his wide smile never faltering as he continued to skate down the halls. His upbeat energy was beginning to sicken you.

He started to skate backwards to continue talking into your annoyed face. “But don’t worry, I'm positive that Barbie is already out of jail and looking for me. No doubt by morning she'll come and pick me up and we’ll go home and the two of us will finally kiss under the stars.”

A snigger finally cracked out of you. “Right.” From the snippets of his story you paid attention to, it didn’t sound like this Barbie girl he kept talking about was all that interested in him. You wanted to press on about that but knew you’d just be met with blind stupidity.

(R/n) seemed to be having the opposite reactions and opinions from you as all she did was humor his story and laugh at his jokes. What was entertaining for her was agitating for you. “Well all I can do for you is let you in for a minute so you can dry off.” You asserted as you neared your apartment door.

“Thank you!” Ken chirped out, still clinging to your jacket that was still wrapped around him. “So if she’s (R/n), what’s your name? You never gave me it.” You told him your name and he repeated it out loud, testing it in different voice tones which annoyed you even more. ‘I just need to last another hour or two and then he’s out of my life and out of my sight’ you kept telling yourself to keep your composure.

You finally reached your front door and began to fish out your keys from your purse. You rustled through your stuff and held back your exhausted groan, digging through to find them. Ken’s vibrant neon color palette still blinded your peripheral vision. You fleetingly glanced over to him, “What is it with this outfit of yours anyways?”

Ken looked down at his clothes with a confident smile and placed his hands on his hips. “You like it?” Your brows furrowed together. “No, it's just… I thought you said you didn’t have any money.” “I don’t. Clothes just come to me.” Ken said simply as you finally found your keys.

“Like people give you clothes or you design them?” (R/n) questioned. “No, clothes literally just come to me.” Ken stated with that bright grin still intact with his lips.

You stared at him with that ‘are you serious’ expression. “Why don't we see about getting you a car.” You quickly said before you unlocked your front door.

(R/n) approached you in a fit of giggles while you sat at your dining room table scanning over a map for places to drop Ken off. She grasped onto your tense shoulders as she tried to regain a steady breath after her stomach-hurting laughter from something Ken had previously told her.

“C’mon, (Y/n). Can’t he sleep here tonight?” She asked you with a pleading smile. You didn’t spare her a glance and shook your head like a strict mother, your eyes still remaining on the map. “No way.”

(R/n) sighed in disappointment and was about to go back over to the couch where Ken was sitting all wrapped up in towels until she caught the sight of him leaning all the way back into the couch. His eyes blissfully closed and his mouth open enough for a vague snore.

“Um, (Y/n). He looks really tired.” She whispered down to you. Your eyes shot up to see the couch from where you were sitting to witness Ken already fast asleep. “What? Oh, no. That's not acceptable.” You stood up, the intention of physically hurling him off your couch flaring your imagination.

“Are you really gonna make him go?” (R/n) asked sadly with a pout. You turned to her with a glare. Of course you had to be the only sensible one, taking on responsibility. Sometimes you felt like the only adult in a world full of children, the only one with a stable head on their shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll handle this.” You asserted.

(R/n) delicately grabbed your arm before you could march over to him. “He’s so funny though, and he seems pretty harmless.” You sighed and turned to her with a softer tone in your expression and eyes. “(R/n), he is a seriously confused and troubled man who's fallen into our laps. All I want to do is get him home.” You explained as plainly as you could.

“So he’s not gonna stay?” (R/n) asked again but put on a brighter smile to try to convince you. “No.” You harshly deadpanned. “Now go to bed.” She huffed but turned on her heels anyway in pursuit of her room.

Once you heard the closing of her door, you made your way over to the snoozing psychopath. With your hands on your hips, you glared down at him as if trying to telepathically make him wake up. You reached down to his arm, about to violently shake him awake, but your fingers halted and hovered over his toned bicep.

You glanced up to his face as you were frozen, mindlessly taking the time to get a proper look at his face for the first time. You nearly couldn’t mentally deny that when he wasn’t rabidly sobbing or babbling his mouth off, he was actually very beautiful. The most beautiful guy you’ve ever actually seen, almost like he was fake. He was too physically perfect.

You snapped yourself out of your admiring daze, almost not believing you got distracted with physical attraction. You deepened your frown and finally pushed your hand against his arm, a weak attempt to wake Mr Sleeping Beauty. You pushed one more time to find he was still fast asleep. You gruffly sighed and pulled out your phone, clicking into the Uber app.

You were just going to send him to the nearest police station, he’ll be the cops’ problem now and Ken can tell them all about his Barbie life. However, before you could hit the final button to get the car your eyes glanced up to Ken once more. Except this time you couldn’t look away as he subconsciously snuggled in the towels wrapped around him.

‘Just push the damn button and get him out of here’ is what you kept yelling at yourself. So why couldn’t you do it? Of course right when it came down to it, you felt yourself going soft for this lunatic… with very blue eyes and an innocent kind of sweet smile. Despite his prettiness and despite his aggravating immaturity, you still felt this gravitational pull towards this strange man.

You sighed and turned off your phone, ruthlessly cursing yourself at your failure to get rid of him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to kick him out, something you knew you were going to regret when he woke up and began talking non-stop again. Still, you found yourself gently laying him properly down across the couch on the pillow and replacing the damp towels with a blanket.

You denied your own small smile at his sleeping form as you left for your bedroom. You hadn’t thought about Barbie dolls in a very long time, but all of his Barbie talk made you sit in your bed in silence for a few minutes. You wished you still had your Barbie dolls with you instead of them sitting in a box in your parents basement. You just wanted to at least look at your favorite childhood toy.

Not your Ken doll though.

You buried him three feet underground in your backyard when playing funeral with your Barbie dolls and forgot he was still down there.

#reader insert #ken x reader #ken #Ryan gosling #ryan gosling x reader #Barbie #Barbie 2023 #the Barbie movie #Barbie movie #greta gerwig #greta gerwig barbie #enchanted #ken Carson #Ken Carson x reader #kenergy #I’m just Ken #enchanted movie #fluff #disney enchanted

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fornshinoyaz · 11 months

Text

i would wait for you

yu nishinoya

“You actually came back.” He says.

Nishinoya is breathless. His eyes were just as you remembered them—an intoxicating brown wine—more beautiful than any leaf that flew down from the heavens. Autumn was gone now. The seasons changed before you could even blink.

Cold nipped at your nose, red coated your checks. Winter was here, and so were you, and Nishinoya could hardly believe it.

His eyes fly across you longing to believe you were real, needing to believe this wasn’t a lie. That you were right front of him. Right now. Just like this. In his old, busted down store, just like you both had promised years ago.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

A small smile settles on your face. It’s not wide and trusting like before. You’re scared—scared he doesn’t love you anymore, scared that all of this was for nothing. You wish you could see inside his head, feel what he’s feeling, understand the boy you so easily did years ago.

“You came back,” he repeats, his voice cracking against the cold air, “for me?”

“I did,” you nod.

He can hardly stop the tears that fall down his freezing cheeks. He dreamed of this moment, he lived for this moment. That one day you would come back to him, stand in front of him, and call his name. No one else’s. Just his.

“Don’t cry,” you whisper, wanting to take all of his pain away. Your legs melt, unfreeze against your own anxiety, and you move, just to be next to him. Just to take away his pain. You wipe away his tears with your fingers. You make them your own.

“I missed you so much.” he says and this time, he is the one who moves.

His soft eyes trace from your lips to your eyes. His touch against your skin is so familiar and so gentle. He holds you like he couldn’t dream of losing you again. He holds like you were the most precious thing to him. And you were.

“I swear, I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and your fingers intertwine, and you become caught in each others grasp like a spider web.

He leans forward, and for a moment, you expect him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. He leans his forehead against yours and sighs—in relief, in comfort, in happiness. He appreciates you—the whole you. He relishes in his new reality, that you were his and that he was yours.

And then you curl into his embrace. The warmth is suffocating. He is a blanket from the overwhelming cold. He makes you want to be so close to him, to live in his skin, and protect yourself from the outside world. The warmth spreads when his lips finally brush against yours—patient, purposeful, gentle. You pull him closer, close as can be, so that you can feel his heartbeat against your own chest.

He smiles in the kiss and pulls away to whisper on your lips, “I would wait for you again, if given the chance,” and somehow, you fall deeper in this love with this man. Your chest burns with passion and affection.

“I love you,” you say without thinking twice and his smile deepens.

“I love you more,” and before you can respond, he tenderly kisses you again, shutting you up as your laughter rings through the air.

a/n: yet another late night nishinoya drabble! tldr; i love him very much. listened to roslyn by bon iver & billie eilish’s ost from barbie while writing this lol. thanks for reading <3

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu #haikyuu x you

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pascaloverx · 7 months

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Hit The Road

Chapter Six

previous chapter next chapter

Summary: You are a hunter of supernatural beings who is forced to experience a new reality: being a vampire. The only thing stronger than your thirst for blood is your thirst for revenge.

Author's note: the characters mentioned here were created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, based on the book series of the same name by author L. J. Smith. They don't belong to me. That said, this fanfic will be short. This fanfic may address scenes of violence, inappropriate language and adult content. Minors should not interact with this story.

Running might not have been the best option, you admit. Or maybe it was the best option, just not for someone who doesn't know where they are. Mystic Falls could easily be Lost Falls. Another terrible idea was stealing a car instead of using your super speed. You have no idea who this car is, you just needed to get away from the Salvatores as quickly as possible. When you locate the city bar you feel like you can relax at least a little. But that doesn't last long, because apparently Damon doesn't understand the notion of you having a moment alone.

"Do you usually run away from other people's houses like you're crazy, or is it just mine?" Damon seems to be angry, which you try to ignore.

"I need a drink, preferably a strong double or triple one." You ask the bartender, ignoring Damon's presence, as honestly, he was the last person you wanted to face right now.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong with you?" Damon questions, arching his eyebrows and staring at you as you drink whatever strong concoction the bartender handed you. You then order a beer from the bartender, who says he'll get it for you. You reach into your pants pocket for payment, and when you're about to pay, Damon is behind the counter. Obviously, he'll do anything to get your attention, including manipulating the bartender to serve tables while he takes care of the bar.

"Damon, could you leave me alone for the next few hours?" You ask, grabbing the beer that Damon is holding out of his hands.

He looks at you in a different way, as if he wants to understand you but you're making it difficult. Before he can say anything, a blonde woman calls his name, and both of you turn to see who it is.

"Does Elena know you're serving other women as a pastime, or is it another dirty secret of Damon Salvatore?" The blonde says with a certain arrogance. You observe her and then turn to look at Damon, who has a mischievous smile on his face.

"Caroline Forbes and her presumptions. You, better than anyone, should know that I don't owe explanations to Elena anymore, just as she doesn't owe me anything. Now, if you're done playing the curious Barbie, you can go back to taking care of your own life." Damon says sarcastically. It seems he has some familiarity with Caroline, whom you imagine is a friend of Elena. You find yourself thinking that maybe it would have been better never to have sought out Damon.

"It's part of my life to ensure that one of my best friends has a decent boyfriend, as much as possible. I don't like that it's you, but if you're going to be, at least be worthy of her." Caroline says. You feel uncomfortable, as if you're a person tainted on the inside. I mean, you had a fling with two brothers, and now you're interfering in the love life of one of them, which doesn't seem right.

"If you claim to be her best friend, you know that she and I are no longer together. Now, it's important to respect each other's choices and boundaries." Damon seems almost sensible saying that, putting Caroline in an awkward position. You simply observe them, thinking that Elena must mean a lot to both of them.

"Look, I don't know you, and I have no idea why you know this guy, but understand that all women are like puzzles to him. Once he's done putting you together, he'll discard you and move on to another game." Caroline warns you. She looks directly at you, as if she wants to seriously warn you; Damon seems a bit upset by what she said. You shake your head as if you don't know what to say. Caroline leaves like a storm about to erupt. Without saying anything, you head towards the exit.

"Are you really going to ignore me?" Damon says, following you after several attempts to get your attention by calling your name. You get into the car, which, by the way, might even be his, and he joins you, taking the passenger seat.

"Do you think we made a mistake getting romantically involved with each other?" You look at Damon, seeking answers in his gaze. The atmosphere in the car becomes tense, laden with the uncertainty of what the shared past might mean for the present.

"Maybe we were a mistake, but you're definitely not a regret for me. Even if you don't remember what you mean to me." Damon says. You don't know how to react.

"Did you know that Stefan and I had an affair?" You ask Damon. You have to make sure he has no idea what you're talking about.

"You told me, right before this all happened. I wasn't happy about it but you know my situation with Elena so I can't criticize you for it." Damon says looking at you with a certain annoyed look. You wonder if he cares about you enough to not want to share you with Stefan.

"What if my destiny is to love your brother?" You ask, unsure if you even want an answer from Damon. The truth is, you don't know who you love, don't know who you truly want – you only know that being close to the Salvatore brothers makes you feel... alive.

"You once told me that your destiny only depended on you." He replies subtly. I guess this situation must be commonplace for him. Have I never truly loved him, or have I loved him too much?

You looked at him as if you understood what he's trying to convey. And then, you realize something is in front of the car. A werewolf, in the middle of the road. It's alone and seems angry. The curious thing is that you didn't notice the werewolf before crashing the car into it. The werewolf gets angry and starts attacking the car with me and Damon inside. You know that a werewolf's bite on a vampire is lethal. So you fear, dying or watching Damon die. The car crash thankfully only caused superficial injuries Damon seems more concerned with seeing if I'm okay with protecting himself. And for a moment you black out, being flooded with yet another vision.

"Can you do it or not?" You ask the mysterious woman in front of you, she looks at you with a look full of doubt.

"Not that I don't understand why you want to erase Damon and Stefan from your head but don't think it's a bit radical?" The woman says looking at you, while you two are in that same cabin in the middle forest.

"Bonnie I just want to know if you can do it or not. I don't need a therapy session, I need my biggest weakness outside of myself." You look honestly exhausted, like you're at your limit.

"There could be consequences if you regain your memory, bad things could happen. Are you sure you want me to do this?" Bonnie asks, holding her mother. You try to think that anything is better to be a hunter who fell in love with two vampires.

"I am sure." You respond as you see the woman pick up an old book from the small table near the cabin's entrance. Everything goes dark after that, you just feel unbearable pain.

Pain makes you regain the consciousness that had been lost. When you wake up, you see blood running down your arm and you feel something burn inside you. Your blurred vision doesn't let you see anything other than Stefan's face. You're relieved to see him but immediately panic when you see your arm completely. You were bitten by a werewolf and worse, Damon is nowhere you can see.

#damon x reader #spotify #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore x reader #tvd angst #tvdu #tvd fanfiction #tvd smut #the vampire diaries #Spotify

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blackcatrph · 11 months

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» ━━ BARBIE BIG CITY BIG DREAMS : LYRIC STARTERS.

lyrics taken from the barbie big city big dreams animation. please alter any pronouns when sending if needed.

“ i love the concrete jungle. ”

“ i’m a beach girl. ”

“ together we’re the best of both possible worlds. ”

“ our duo’s so dynamic. ”

“ like fire and rain, together we can set it off and make a big bang. ”

“ hey universe, look who’s coming at you. ”

“ for the first time i found my perfect match. ”

“ how did we ever survive before us ? ”

“ all i need now in my life is more us. ”

“ it’s like we’re meant to be, like destiny, so right. ”

“ i just go with the flow. ”

“ i plan out every day. ”

“ our master plan will lead us straight to broadway. ”

“ put respect on this groove. ”

“ through thick and thin. ”

“ we’ve got the brightest future. ”

“ where’ve you been? because i wish i’d met you sooner. ”

“ look and learn. ”

“ feel the burn. ”

“ just try harder. ”

“ this is tough. ”

“ tighten up. ”

“ my spirit is deflating. ”

“ my fear’s inflating. ”

“ this school is calling my bluff. ”

“ hope i have the right stuff. ”

“ remember how to be brave. ”

“ can i get out of my head ? ”

“ grind on my mind. ”

“ work it double time. ”

“ never fall a step behind. ”

“ this is what you wanted. ”

“ don’t be daunted. ”

“ just be patient and relax, cut yourself some slack. ”

“ why am i the only one who keeps scrambling and face planting ? ”

“ this is draining. ”

“ stop complaining. ”

“ i know it’s worth the trouble. ”

“ did everyone see ? ”

“ of course they saw. ”

“ pull yourself together. ”

“ practice until it’s perfect. ”

“ plant your feet. ”

“ use your core. ”

“ keep the beat. ”

“ get off the floor. ”

“ how can you even show your face ? ”

“ i’m losing my mind. ”

“ i flew in on cloud nine. ”

“ made a new best friend. ”

“ there wasn’t a question that everything would work out perfectly. ”

“ spoke too soon. ”

“ worst in the room, like a total crash landing. ”

“ i’m not going to let that keep me down. ”

“ it’s all about those good vibes. ”

“ take a look at me, so on pointe and savvy. ”

“ the whole world at my feet. ”

“ didn’t know what fear meant. ”

“ guess i’m not immune to the laws of gravity. ”

“ crutches won’t be keeping me earthbound. ”

“ is the glass half full or half empty ? ”

“ let the positivity take over. ”

“ como se dice ? let me put it this way. ”

“ chequen esto, chicas, mi visión loca. ”

“ my imagination soars. ”

“ got to spread my wings and get to higher ground. ”

“ back here again, losing a friend. ”

“ i thought i was strong, but i’m reeling. ”

“ this time felt different, our connection was instant. ”

“ that was pure magical thinking. ”

“ just move on from the pain. ”

“ soon it’ll fade like a memory. ”

“ you’ll start over again. ”

“ evolving from this fateful origin story. ”

“ a chariot streaks across the sky so majestically. ”

“ two girls on an odyssey in the city that never sleeps. ”

“ riding high on a merry go round of modern mythology. ”

“ discovered a new part of me in a fated friend. ”

“ i knew finding you would be an epic journey with no end. ”

“ you can’t see shooting stars in the city of marquee lights. ”

“ fate brough us together then tore us apart. ”

“ i wish i could go back and restart. ”

“ i’ll race across the sky to a work where dreams and friendships aren’t destined to collide. ”

“ stranded on this lonely island. ”

“ great beginnings don’t get happy endings. ”

“ glorious mythologies can slip out of your reach. ”

“ in reality, best friends leave. ”

“ you’re my fiercest competition. ”

“ we’re best friends, no contradiction. ”

“ never let jealousy get in our way. ”

“ help each other up. ”

“ you set the bar, i’ll raise it. ”

“ you won’t catch me holding back. ”

“ why should our drive divide us ? ”

“ let’s let our strength unite us. ”

“ i’ve still got your back. ”

“ see you at the finish line. ”

“ when you need the strength to clear it, i’m gonna be there cheering. ”

“ i’m never leaving you behind. ”

“ if you stumble, just keep your fight on. ”

“ follow my voice to my arms. ”

“ we’re going hard and we’re going together. ”

“ we know what we want. ”

“ we’re giving up never. ”

“ we were born to show the world just who the boss is. ”

“ stopping more traffic than midtown rush hour. ”

“ you know we’re doing it right. ”

“ lean on my shoulder. ”

“ we’ve got each other, that’s the way it’ll always be. ”

“ bank on our future, it’s gold. ”

“ we’ll wake up with our names in lights. ”

#ask meme #rp ask prompts #rp meme #rp prompt #rp memes #rp ask memes #rp starter meme #starter meme #rp meme starter #rp sentence starters #barbie rp meme #rp lyric meme #lyric rp meme #lyrical meme #help this is so fruity

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oc-challenges · 9 months

Text

WELCOME TO THE OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE!

Calling all the monsters, it's time for the OC 2023 Halloween Challenge! This challenge has been hauntin' you for five years, and we're wantin' you to participate!

If you're new here, here's what you need to know: This is an event that takes place over the 31 days of October and presents oc creators with Halloween-themed challenges to get the creative juices dancing. It is open to creations for both fanfiction and original ocs, and if you want to participate you don't have to every one or even in order. It is brought to you by @purpleyearning / @aliverse, @elmunson, and includes suggestions by members of our discord! (special thanks to @endless-hoppington for helping with some descs)

Rules

DO NOT copy others edits.

If you are doing crossovers, PLEASE make sure that the creator of the other oc is okay with crossovers.

If you want your post to be reblogged onto this blog, it must contain the hashtag ohc2023.

Feel free to ask questions, I promise I’m more treat than trick.

Everything is up to the creators interpretation, although I have tried to include some examples for help!

Have fun!

RANDOM/THEMELESS (1st–5th) Some of the challenges that don't coincide with each other.

Day One: Life In Plastic

It's fantastic! Is your OC more of a Barbie or a Bratz? Maybe they go to Monster High, or they're an American Girl Doll with an inspiring story? Perhaps you want to make a Funko version of your OC? To put it simply, this day is about dolls as an ode to the best movie of 2023; Barbie.

Day Two: Lights, Camera, Action!

For day two, we're combining oc as canon, oc as celebrity, and oc's social media into one day where you get to choose which of those challenges you would like to do... maybe even all of them!

Day Three: Born In The Wrong Century

Movies depend on a lot of things, but time and place helps create the ominous feel for it. Like Crimson Peak that belongs to the revival gothic period of 1880s or Jason Voorhees waking up on a spaceship in the year of 2455, give your character(s) a new decade to explore and even monsters to face.

Day Four: Twisted

From reality episodes where two people experience switching roles with one another to an alternative reality where their roles are different from their home's universe, make your character experience life through a whole new perspective by making your hero the villain or your villain the hero.

Day Five: Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches... Oh My!

From Godzilla to Dracula to The Mummy, the monster-verse is rich with lore. Today we focus on those monsters that never go out of style, after all they’re called classics for a reason. Is your oc Frankenstein or his monster?

OH, YOU WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? CAN I BE THE HELPLESS VICTIM? (6th–12th) Due to its popularity last year, we're bringing back the horror character tropes week.

Day Six: The Harmless Antagonist

Ah, a classic in more than just horror; the mean gorgeous holier-than-thou character; more specifics of this are often The Jock, The Cheerleader, The “Slut”, The Bitch, The Rich Kid, etc. While they may annoy the main character or make their everyday life difficult with academic rivalry or teasing, they’re really nothing compared to the new enemy; the thing or person killing everyone. Which one of your ocs is getting brutally knocked down a peg… or the stairs?

Day Seven: The Comedic Relief

Honestly, they make even the scariest movies bearable. They're almost never the main character but almost always the most liked. They say laughter is medicine for the soul, so which of your ocs soothes the characters and the situation with a joke made at the worst of times?

Day Eight: The Denier/Non-Believer/Skeptic

It doesn’t matter the subgenre, there’s always one. They don’t believe a killers out to get them or their friends despite the fast growing pile of bodies, they claim there’s a natural explanation for the supernatural event terrorizing everyone, they just refuse to get with the program. This often combines with the cop or older-than-everyone-else character. Which one of your ocs will get killed by their stubborness before their loyalty?

Day Nine: The Harbinger

We hear about omens of death in every kind of mythology. Irish folklore warns you of hearing the wailing woman and German myth tells you to never find your doppelganger. Even Western Society in America will drift from their path if they see a black cat on the way. So which of your ocs stands outside of the haunted house and tells the redheaded twins “you’re going to die in there”?

Day Ten: The Accomplice

You never saw it coming, but you should’ve. There’s not just one killer you have to worry about, there’s two. This is the person whose been helping the killer since the very beginning, pretending to be your friend the entire time until the plot reached its rising action. You’re heart broken and the very ground shakes under your feet, the good person you once thought you knew is gone… or worse, had never truly existed. Which of your ocs is not only willing to help a friend hide the body, but kill it too?

Day Eleven: The Killer

They’re haunted and bloodthirsty, compelling in a dangerous way. Everyone has a monster within but due to some tragic backstory of abuse, hate, or ridicule, these people – or things– let the monster win. Whether they done a mask or turn your dreams into sentient nightmares, they’re the main reason why anybody shows up to movie night. Which one of your ocs looks into the reflection of the knife in their hand, and pictures themselves chopping up human bodies instead of vegetables?

Day Twelve: The Final Girl

It’s all come down to this, the last stand. There’s two people left, or at least two important people left; the killer and the final girl. She’s fought tooth and nail, and grief has made way for rage. At first she was just another potential victim, now she’s in the killers way and she won’t go down easy. In the beginning she just wanted to survive, but like Laurie Strode now she wants revenge. Which oc becomes the monsters monster?

WRONG PLACE, WRONG TIME We're exploring classic horror locations. Throw your ocs into a horror story that take place in these locations, or make up your own story.

Day Thirteen: Have Killer Fun At Summer Camp! (Location: Summer Camp)

It's Friday The Thirteenth... literally. For today, the location is a summer camp like the one Jason Voorhees terrorizes. Counselor, killer, or camper? Whatever role your oc plays, they certainly didn't read this in the brochure.

Day Fourteen: Vacation Nightmares (Location: Hotel/Island/AirBnB, etc.)

An island that magically speeds up your aging, a hotel with corridors that lead to nowhere, a psychotic airbnb host; Today is about horror in locations that are supposed to be a break from the horror of everyday life, but instead introduces you to whole new horrors.

Day Fifteen: Home Is Where The Haunt Is (Location: House or Apartment)

A home can be a place to make memories and some memories leave a scar. Focus on your characters when a place they call home is threatened.

Day Sixteen: She Doesn't Like It In The Barn (Location: Farm/Ranch)

Samara Morgan was forced to stay in the barn's hayloft to keep her burning images out of her adoptive parents minds. Framer Graham Hess had to defend his home and family from aliens that threatened to kill his son. Pearl craved to be a movie star and experienced a psychotic break where she killed those who denied her her dream. What deadly passages does the farm bestow to your characters?

Day Seventeen: Death is a Mystery and Burial is a Secret (Location: Cemetery or Tomb)

Cemeteries and tombs are the places we put our loved ones to rest, but in horror movies we find that final resting places are not so restful after all. Whether it’s ghosts, zombies, psychotic gravekeepers, or grave robbers ensuring no witnesses; how do your ocs go from mourning to trying to survive until morning?

Day Eighteen: What's The Opposite Of Miracles? (Location: Places of Worship)

Places of worship are supposed to be places of good, where people go for guidance and safety, places full of good beings and devoid of sin. But what if the bad beings sneak in or the sinless place is just a hiding place for those full of sin?

Day Nineteen: This Won't Hurt A Bit (Location: Hospital and/or Asylum)

In season two of American Horror Story, we were welcomed to Briarcliff, an asylum that became ‘home’ to the misunderstood and the criminally insane. Much like other hospitals of the past, many attempts of healing were there to disguise the evil hiding in plain sight. How does your character deal when the place that was supposed to heal them becomes the place that harms them?

Day Twenty: The Trees Have Eyes (Location: The Woods/Forest)

Shadows of the trees cast illusions, the cracking of sticks cause hairs on the back of your neck stand. The wind howls which sounds of a voice, and the birds no longer sing. The woods are creepy, desolate, and you find yourself lost in the sea of their trunks. What happens when your ocs are stuck in the woods?

RANDOM OUTLIER

Day Twenty-One: I Want To Play A Game

Some of the most recent hits in horror history have been not movies, books, or shows, but video games. From Dead By Daylight to Until Dawn, horror fans have been able to experience immersion at a whole new level by trying to make all the right choices as a character. Now, it's time to put your oc into a horror game AU. Will they live, or will they die? Only their stats and choices will tell.

STRANGER THINGS HAVE HAPPENED (22nd–27th) Character tropes are fun and all, but for the next six days we're focusing on genre tropes.

Day Twenty-Two: Solitude Causes More Wounds Than It Was Meant To Heal (Trope: Isolation)

Fear is increased when one is alone by themselves, or cut off from civilization like an reclusive island. Focus on your characters in the horror of isolation; are they forced to recognize who they truly are on the inside? Do they practice the law of nature or nurture? Do they keep their morals or own laws?

Day Twenty-Three: The Apocalypse Is The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me (Trope: Apocalyptic)

Just as everything must begin, it also must end. This, unfortunately, includes humanity. What will happen when the world as your oc knows it ends, when that world goes from millions of people to tens or perhaps even one? Will they be forced to adapt, doomed to die, or perhaps even thrive?

Day Twenty-Four: You've Killed Me Before (Trope: Time Loop)

The best thing about the sun setting is that it will come up again in the morning, and a new day will begin. But what if the sun comes up and an old day begins? Whether your oc must solve their own murder, solve somebody else’s murder, or face difficult truths about those around them, it’s time to put them into a time loop.

Day Twenty-Five: Better You Die Than I (Trope: Doppleganger)

In real life, seeing your “doppleganger” is said to be an omen of misfortune or good luck. In horror movies, dopplegangers usually take a more direct approach in ruining the lives of their lookalike. Whether they’re an omen of bad things to come or trying to steal ones life, give your oc a doppleganger and explore the horrors of a stranger that shares your face.

Day Twenty-Six: No Wonder Everyone Keeps Invading You (Trope: Extraterrestrial)

Whether your oc was a believer before or not, life from another planet has arrived to Earth on this day. These so-called aliens come in all shapes, sizes, and colors; They can even come in a human disguise, as a deadly plant, as a machine, or even as little green men. No matter where they came from or what they look like, humanity is not ready for them. Whether we try to hurt them or they try to hurt us, how does your oc deal with extraterrestrial life on Earth and the problems this arrival presents?

Day Twenty-Seven: All Politics Is A Personality Cult Now (Trope: Cult)

What simply starts as a simple dinner meal, a visit to a secluded area where people celebrate, or deciding to reunite with the estranged side of your family, can easily be your steps toward a cult. Have your characters fight to stay alive against those who have welcomed them with sinister intent.

COSTUMES TELL A STORY

Day Twenty-Eight: Let's Be Weird Together

We all know of an iconic squad that so many people are just dying to be a part of. Well, it’s your ocs and their friends chance! Day 28 is group costumes!

Day Twenty-Nine: That Could Be Us

Love isn’t in the air but maybe it’s in the fabric of costumes! It’s time for couples costumes!

Day Thirty: I Can Be Anybody I Wanna Be

If your oc could be anybody, who would they wanna be? Well, for one night only, they can be! It's time for your oc to dress up!

TRICK OR TREAT!

Day Thirty-One: I'm Just Here For The Boos

Halloween is a time for tricks and treats, for ghost to walk among the living and us to disguise ourselves. But it can be killer, and the transference of evil can be achieved. Give your shape to another, gift them and you shall receive in turn. Ocpotluck awaits.

#origin post #ocappreciation #allaboutocs #h: 2023 #ohc2023 #halloween challenge #tw flashing lights #flashing lights tw #admin: ali

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fragiledewdrop · 1 year

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Isn't it amazing how, when you are exposed to multiple languages, it changes the way you think about reality?

I don't even mean when you learn a language well and it starts merging with your native tongue. More like...

...there are so many words for "apple" in this world, but to me the apple's truest name will always be "alma", because my Hungarian grandmother used to make me say it over and over and was sad that I never got the pronunciation exactly right. She was my "nagymama".

The first time I fell in love, it was with a girl of Chinese heritage, which means that, deep in my soul, the sweetest way to say "I love you" is 我愛你, both in Cantonese and Mandarin.

I was around German speakers a lot as a child, and I thought it was very funny that "sorry" was "Entschuldigung", so that's what I think every time I bump into someone on the street. I had a seizure at a hospital once, and when I came to the nurse started asking questions to see if I was all there. She showed me a pen and asked me what it was, and my immediate answer was "Kugelschreiber". She was so confused, but it took me a while to remember the Italian word, because "Kugelschreiber" has always been much more satisfying to think and say than "penna".

My Polish friend says "kurva" every time she swears (which is quite often), and so I have started saying that too.

Although, since I began studying French, my instinctual swear word is a very classy "putain de merde". When I am really happy, I am "aux anges". How are you? "Ça va". There is a game of cards that can be called many things, but to me it's "bataille corse", because I used to play it a lot with a French coworker in Ireland.

When I was little, I played almost every day with a girl who came from Venezuela. We could understand each other just fine, but once she asked me to pass her the "pajaro" and I didn’ get what she was saying. Eventually I understood she meant our Barbie's little blue plastic bird, and not a sparrow, which is what the word sounded like to me. So when I see birds in the trees? "Pajaros en las ramas". I had another friend whose surname was a play on the Spanish word for sunrise, which she was very proud of, and one of my favourite verses by Garcia Lorca is about the "breaking cups of dawn". When I watch the sun rise, the first word that comes to mind is "madrugada".

As a teenager, I read "Poor Folk" by Dostoevsky and there was a letter in which the protagonist wrote to his lover and called her "golubchik". I still think that's the sweetest pet name- along with "honey" in English.

After coming back from Japan, my brother has started slipping idioms in his speech when he is distracted. I couldn't understand them at first, but I thought it endearing, and now "wait a moment" is "chotto matte". He is my "ototo", "little brother".

A Romanian lady helps take care of my grandfather. Ever since I have met her, known her, helped her pick out gifts for the kids that she can see so rarely, taught her recipes and learned recipes frome her, "thank you" to me has become "mulțumesc".

A person I don't know is "ξένος (xénos)", the Greek for "foreigner, stranger", but also "guest, host, friend".

There are many more. I am a mosaic of the voices of the people I have met, the people I have loved. My own language is beautiful and it's home, but even its ancient, melodious poetry is not enough to encompass the beauty and tragedy of this world. And if I dream in English, curse in French, think of my former Christian God with a Hebrew name and of holiness as the prayer in Arabic over my sick bed that fell from the lips of a Malian refugee who had become a family friend, maybe I can come closer to grasp it.

#languages #I have been thinking of this quite a lot #multilinguism

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public-trans-it-deactivated20240 · 2 years

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What is empty spaces? Google only shows some Pink Floyd song.

So I just had someone ask me this over discord which may or may not have been you, but either way I’ll give the same (brief) answer.

The short answer is that its a (mostly trans) community who goes “Man it would be so cool if the conservatives were right and we really WERE god killing demons reshaping both gender and humanity as a whole to our will.”

The longer answer... is it’s a genre of slash fiction similar to Omegaverse. And much like Omegaverse it is… uh … very much a thing that is weird to talk about publicly.

Omegaverse has a sort of alternative take on biological essentialism, where in the setting that essentialism is true and has direct impacts on sexuality, but the innate biological structure of humans in the setting is WILDLY different from reality.

Empty Spaces is to genders (mostly xenogenders) what Omegaverse is to sexuality. It branched off from “doll twitter”, a subset of the hypno kink community which was almost entirely trans gals wanting to just not be a person anymore because being stripped of humanity brought them gender euphoria. Needless to say as fringe a community as that was overwhelmed with subs seeking that out, and severely lacking in dominants who could (and were willing to) provide it. But people never belong to only a single community, and it was only a matter of time before they overlapped with witch twitter, a community of (mostly trans) gals going “What if magical girl smut wasn’t just 100% them being cute innocent things for the male gaze and instead they were demented reality warpers with control issues who have lost all traces of their humanity through the gulf between them and everyone else and were girls but like MORE girl than a human could wrap their head around and also I was one of them.” Needless to say, the two groups got along GREAT.

Eventually this attracted people who had kinks and identities that were “Gender but in a sexy and fucked up way” and a form of shared worldbuilding emerged, of an anachronistic world were witches secluded themselves from the outside world that didn’t understand them, creating new forms of life ranging from sentient Barbie dolls you could fit in your pocket, or things that were once human but no trace of the person they are remains, or androids designed for combat like the T-dolls from Girls Frontline, and all this eventually catching the eyes of things outside our reality that are fantastical and wondrous, creating a world that the witches and dolls and other rejects of the human world could call home as it seeped back into the mundane world.

The biggest difference between Omegaverse is in the levels of explicitness. Don’t get me wrong, it is EXTREMELY HORNY and EXTREMELY KINKY. DARK KINKS AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE. MORE MANIPULATION AND ABUSE AND NONCON AND SNUFF THAN YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT. But it’s rarely traditional views of sex. You will find Empty Spaces writers on twitter with massive threads linking to hundreds of their own stories, each tagged with the most depraved fucked up kinks you could imagine... and then only like three of those stories depict actual sex in it.

Instead it is about the intimacy of those things. Giving up that level of control or having that level of control over another. Being more than what you are, being an outcast from the world that shunned you but finding love in the ways that world would find repulsive. Its about the world not treating you as human, and you going “Yeah. You’re right. I’m not human anymore.” and finding power in that lack of humanity.

#empty spaces #also like #I don’t actually know shit about Omegaverse I have never read a single story I have just heard the comparisons made before #and checked Wikipedia to verify so you KNOW that’s a highly sanitized version #also as with every community and every gender THOSE EXPERIENCES ARE NOT UNIVERSAL #IT IS JUST THE TREND I NOTICED IN MY OWN EXPOSURE TO IT #DO NOT TAKE IT AS GOSPEL

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best-underrated-anime · 7 months

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Best Underrated Anime Group I Round 1: #I3 vs #I6

#I3: Girls get magic from a hamster to have any career they want.

It’s the first day of the new school year. 5th grader Ari and her best friends, Suha and Min, have started an after-school activity called the Problem Solving Club. However, no one seems to have any problems that need to be solved. Disappointed, Ari ends up discovering an unconscious hamster on the road. Amazingly…the hamster begins to speak. “I must find the magic ring…”

#I6: High-schoolers babysit kids—funny and sweet.

After losing both parents in a fatal plane crash, teenager Ryuuichi Kashima must adjust to his new life as the guardian of his younger brother Kotarou. Although Ryuuichi is able to maintain a friendly and kindhearted demeanor, Kotarou is a reserved toddler still too young to understand the reality of the situation. At their parents' funeral, they are approached by Youko Morinomiya, the stern chairman of an elite academy, who decides to take them under her care.

However, there is one condition Ryuuichi must fulfill in exchange for a roof over their heads and enrolment in the school—he must become the school's babysitter. In an effort to support the female teachers at the academy, a babysitter's club was established to look after their infant children; unfortunately, the club is severely short-staffed, so now not only is Ryuuichi responsible for his little brother, but also a handful of toddlers who possess dynamic personalities.

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#I3: Flowering Heart

youtube

Propaganda:

I first watched this show back when I was in middle school, so it has some nostalgic value for me. Though, looking back on it now, it was a little odd. I think the concept is pretty cool, as they are girls who can magically transform into adults and have the skill set for that particular career (like Barbie, I guess). The reason they started doing this was to help other people, so the show does have a nice message to it. Overall, it’s a pretty standard magical girl type anime, so if you just want something that’s not too overwhelming, I think this would be a good watch.

Trigger Warnings:

Animal Cruelty – one of the antagonists almost gets this girl’s dog killed. It’s nothing graphic, but the dog might’ve died.

Flashing lights – there are magical girl transformations which are very bright

Pedophilia – the 3 girls are all in 5th grade (so around 11), and there is one guy who has a crush on one of the girls (he’s 18) (idk if they end up together as I can’t find a decent translation for the 2nd season)

#I6: School Babysitters (Gakuen Babysitters)

youtube

Propaganda 1:

It is one of the cutest slice-of-life shows, with some really sweet moments. It’s a bit sad that not many people know about it, because it is a very lovely show. Some downright hilarious moments with almost all lovable characters, each with their own quirks, and some unexpected, yet awesome friendships.

Propaganda 2:

It’s definitely one of my comfort shows. Cute, little slice of life where you see the activities of the kids in the club. (They’re super adorable and the stuff they do is so funny.) The bond between Kashima and his little brother, Kotaro, is so sweet, and I love seeing him open up to his new-found family.

Trigger Warnings:

Deaths in MC’s family, which are mostly mentioned in reference to grief. Nothing explicit or graphic. Also, one side character gets overly excited and has nosebleeds around the kids. It’s played for laughs, but at least he’s called out for it being weird. Lastly, there is a pedophile side character, and the other characters think he’s gross and find him uncomfortable to be with.

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

#anime #aeni #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #animated show #korean anime #flowering heart #flowering heart aeni #school babysitters #gakuen babysitters #플라워링하트 #group i #group stage #group stage round 1 #tournament polls

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hobblingeuripides · 8 months

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SPOILER WARNING

Book Review: Ariadne by Jennifer Saint

It has taken me a month and a half to fully collect my thoughts on this novel, and I think I can officially say it has become my favorite book of all time; and I can't wait to reread it and read her other two novels as well.

Upon introduction to this book, before reading, I thought this would be another version of Ariadne's tragic abandoning by Theseus, maybe introducing Dionysus at the novel's close. However, this book breathed life and an agency into the character of Ariadne that mythology and time has neglected to give her. Saint's eloquent and tragic retelling includes the eras of Ariadne's life in her youthful naivete falling in love with Theseus, framing his abandonment of her as a rightfully traumatic event that stayed with her for her entire life. Saint very carefully wrote Theseus' character in the beginning in a way that you understood why Ariadne fell in love with him, despite all his horrible crimes; it is here that I'll stop to admit a very small part of me was rooting for him to turn out as a hero, for Ariadne's sake. The story goes as it has been previously told, and in walks Dionysus to fulfill all of our protagonist's wildest desire. Ariadne finds content in her love and life as a mother until the feelings of neglect, abandonment, and distrust return to the surface. Dionysus constantly travels, and, when he's home, he attends to secret rituals with his maenads (followers) in the woods. As we see Ariadne's distrust grow, we see more of her maturity and caution as a traumatized woman. When her greatest fears are confirmed, I had so much hope as a reader that this would be a chance for her to become a heroine, flipping the original story and creating a "girl-boss" twist on a traditionally patriarchal tale.

Of course I was shocked and left speechless with the story's end that had Ariadne die with her husband and Hera to blame. There was no hope for Ariadne as a woman, as a mother, as a mortal in that harsh reality.

And this isn't even to mention the massive role and tragedy of Phaedra. A woman who longs to defy tradition but is trapped at every corner, and when she goes to lean on the one person she thinks she can trust, Ariadne, she sees that Ariadne has chosen to live that traditional life that burdens Phaedra so. It sparks a sense of betrayal, heightened when Phaedra opens up to her sister about her lust for Hippolytus. The relationship between Ariadne and Phaedra is such a well-written sisterly bond, which left me wanting to drive the seven hours it takes just to hug my sister. There is no one who understands these women better than each other, yet Phaedra is such a tragic character that she dies shortly after feeling betrayed by her sister; she had already been betrayed and lied to by her husband and had fallen into delusion over Hippolytus. I could go on about Phaedra, but I'll leave more for Saint to say.

The way women are represented without negating the harsh realities of what it was to be a woman in Ancient Greece is just so beautiful and refreshing, and Saint writes every word with love and care for her protagonists. We root for Ariadne, just as we mourn for both women as if they were our own sisters. The roles they take on are roles we still see women succumbed to today, yet they fall to shame and criticism in so many modern stories. It has the same feeling as when you watch Greta Gerwig's films: when the different sisters in Little Women (2019) choose to be mothers or writers or wives or artists, supporting each choice they make. Or when the women in Barbie (2023) want to be ordinary without being called basic or stereotypical. Or even when they want to be extraordinary, there should be no shame.

The tragedy is truly that, whatever role Ariadne and Phaedra chose or were placed into, they were never truly free. There can never be freedom and there can be no heroes in a world that is run by gods and men.

I give Ariadne by Jennifer Saint 5/5 Stars

#booklr #greek mythology #ariadne #theseus #book review #book recommendations #spoiler alert

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aceredshirt13 · 2 months

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1917: A Movie Review

(I created a Letterboxd account specifically to review WWI movies so you can find the review there if you want, but I had no idea reviews got buried so fast so I figured I'd put it here for safekeeping, too.)

Hot tip: if you, while making a movie about the futility of war, ever had to stop and think to yourself, “Okay, but are Germans, like, actually people, though?” then I can only both recommend you kindly consider not making a war movie, and pray for your speedy recovery in the hospital after I have beaned you with a chair.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The rest, which contains spoilers, is under the cut.

I should preface this by saying that I am not an expert on cinematography by any means, and I also watched this movie on an airplane, which means that I wouldn’t have good opinions on the cinematography even if I were an expert on it. I also had not seen any other World War I movies before this one - the only experience I’d had with WWI prior was in the form of books, half the fourth season of Blackadder, an episode of The Twilight Zone, and the occasional spectacularly dark Jeeves and Wooster fanfic. But I had grown interested in learning about the horrors of the war, and had heard much about 1917 and its portrayals of them - so after finishing Barbie on the same international flight, I decided to do a Great War spin on the Barbenheimer formula and give 1917 a whirl.

In terms of horrors, the movie certainly delivers. I will probably never forget Schofield accidentally plunging his hand in the chest cavity of a rotting corpse, or having to crawl to a riverbank over a row of bloated cadavers. Being forced to relive the memory of these scenes actually made me sick to my stomach just now. It is not as much of a visceral waking nightmare as the 2022 version of All Quiet on the Western Front, but it is, without question, awful to see. Gory imagery, however, does not a good war movie make - for that is the burden that the writing must bear.

It’s a pretty simple story. Two very young British privates are given an insanely dangerous mission to travel over enemy lines and deliver a message to call off an attack that will end in disaster, and because one of them has a brother in danger of dying if they don’t succeed, travel they do. Blake (the one with the brother) is chatty, good-humored, and naive about the realities of war, while Schofield (not the one with the brother) is reserved and cynical, traumatized to the point of amnesia from his service at the Somme. Their friendship is endearing, and is unquestionably the best part of the movie. We then follow them through many quiet, almost video game-like journey sequences across No Man’s Land, occasionally interspersed with conversation, mishaps, and near-death situations they help each other out of. Then, not even halfway into the movie, tragedy strikes, and Schofield must make the rest of the journey alone - through more quiet, video game-like journey sequences that sometimes suffer from pacing problems due to the lack of either interpersonal interaction or enough things going on save for walking to keep the viewer engaged. (I actually began to find myself wishing the latter part of the movie was a video game, so I could at least take the exploration into my own hands.) At the end of it all, he reaches his target a bit tardily, but is ultimately able to convince the captain that the push should come to an end, and Blake’s brother is, for now, spared an untimely death. The film ends with our surviving hero leaning back against a tree, gazing at a letter his mother gave him that reads “Come back to me.” before the screen cuts to black.

Now, I’ve been watching WWI films with a friend of mine who is more well-versed in war media than myself, and they let me know after watching this movie on their own that the “pushing past people in the trenches so that you can give a message to call off an attack” segment is the plot of the final scene of Gallipoli. I do not plan to watch Gallipoli, mainly due to the immense degree of historical inaccuracies fabricated to paint British colonial attitudes in a horrible light (which is something that could have very easily been done without erasing the massive losses of an entire section of the British Army that was supporting the Australians), so if you do, you might want to skip ahead to the next paragraph. But if you don’t, well, my friend also let me know that unlike in 1917, where Schofield is too late to completely stop the attack but not too late to spare the elder Blake’s life, in Gallipoli the attempt fails, and the main character’s friend is killed. So not only does 1917 come off as a touch derivative, but it is actually softer than the predecessor it derives from. The captain’s speech about the futility of Schofield’s efforts in the face of future attack orders rings true, but in the end Schofield fulfilled his promise to his dead friend, completed his mission, and lived to tell the tale. Perhaps it was so audiences wouldn’t be disappointed or dissatisfied, and feel the efforts weren’t all for nothing (the Dawn Patrol movies, though more successful at their message than 1917, are a bit guilty of this), but isn’t the entire point of anti-war cinema that it is always, always all for nothing? Shouldn’t you feel miserable, and angry, and dissatisfied?

Well, I did actually feel miserable, and angry, and dissatisfied at the end of this movie, but not for the right reasons. I would be willing to forgive pacing issues and a slightly-too-bright ending, because there was a lot in the movie to like, particularly in regard to the frightening imagery and the relationship between Schofield and Blake. The most compelling scenes in the movie, in fact, surround the aforementioned tragedy that results in two becoming one - but ay, there’s the rub.

Because remember how I said that their friendship was the best part of the movie? Yeah, well, the way that friendship ends is the worst.

So Blake and Schofield are walking along, and they find a barn. They happen to find some milk, and are enthusiastically drinking it while a dogfight takes place overhead - and suddenly a German plane comes careening into the barn in flames. The pilot survives, but is on fire and in terrible pain, so the pair pull him free and pat the fire out. Schofield suggests they put the man out of his misery, but Blake protests because the pilot is begging for water, and asks Schofield to get some for him from the pump. And as he does, the injured German pilot - a man who has just been saved from an extremely painful death by two of his enemies who could have killed him on sight or abandoned him to burn - stabs Blake in the stomach.

I could go on about how shocked and devastated I was at Blake’s subsequent slow and painful death from blood loss, and how Schofield is at his side taking care of him until the very end. About how Blake asks him to take the picture of his family out of his pocket, and show it to him, so he can look at them as he dies - about how after he’s dead, Schofield tries to take his body to a field of blossoming trees, because Blake had spoken earlier about how much he loved them, and how his mother taught him how to identify the flowers, but is picked up by another detachment and forced to abandon his friend’s body where it is. That last bit was, to me, the most affecting and sad part of the movie. But beneath it all, I had one thought, and that thought was “this movie had better have some good German representation to make up for that”.

So I waited, patiently, for the movie to let me know that that was just one man - that that did not represent the entire German army. It’s certainly unlikely for the person you save from death to immediately betray you, but not unheard of - perhaps the pilot was particularly nasty, or prideful, or patriotic, motivated by a hatred of the enemy so powerful that he would rather die than be taken prisoner. Certainly a fair share of real-life RFC pilots were possessed of a complete lack of empathy for and a murderous loathing of their German enemies, so it’s just as certain that the inverse was true. All the movie had to do in turn was show that a German soldier could be just as capable of kindness as poor Blake, or show that a British soldier could be just as heartless as the pilot. And when Schofield later runs into a German soldier - one so babyfaced he looks even younger than himself - and spares his life in exchange for keeping his presence a secret, the opportunity to humanize a German soldier by showing him frightened, and grateful, and letting him go, seems like a total given. Easy and inevitable for an anti-war film, right?

Wrong. The guy betrays him and rats him out immediately. And is killed by Schofield for his trouble. Because German soldiers, God forbid, can’t act like the terrified children they were, crying or vomiting or hesitating or begging for their lives like in 2022’s All Quiet - no, the only emotion burning in their breasts is passion for the Fatherland. (I haven’t seen German characterization this bad in my current WWI catalog outside of the Biggles movie. Do you seriously want the bar to be the Biggles movie?) Never mind that Schofield, an already-bitter character who just watched his friend die by sparing a German soldier, is somewhat unlikely to have even done this in the first place. We can’t show the hero doing something cruel - just like we can’t show him being racist toward the Sikh soldier in the van, or ragging on the Germans like the other white soldiers in the same. No, Schofield, the traumatized, cynical soldier surrounded by death - he must stay kind, and faultless, and pure in the face of that nasty Boche horde. Christ alive. I am mad at this movie.

Like, the war’s over, dude. It’s been over for a hundred years. Do you really still think that all Germans are evil? Is that propaganda poster of the gorilla with the Pickelhaube framed above your bed? Sure, yeah, there’s a brief scene where the leads traverse an old German bunker and find a photo of a soldier’s kids, but that’s not exactly enough of a balance to pat yourself on the back for giving your movie some Big Boy Nuance. That gorilla with the Pickelhaube probably had kids, too. Pickelhaube gorilla kids. I’m drifting from the point.

The point here is that showing Germans have kids they love is not enough, because you have shown that while our British heroes are capable of compassion for the other side of the war, the Germans are in possession of no such thing. Not only are they never shown being empathetic to the enemy, but every bit of empathy they receive from the enemy is repaid with violence, betrayal, and hatred. The British? They love everyone! The Germans? They loathe everyone save for their own! Sounds a bit like the creators mixed up their world wars in terms of ideology, eh? Not that that would have even been true of the average foot soldier in Nazi Germany, because of the apparently radical notion that Germans are human, but the application of this to a war that didn’t even have one Nazi in it only makes it even more infuriating and absurd.

On the subject of Nazis, not even the twist of the traitorous spared German is original to this movie. The same exact bullshit happens in Saving Private Ryan, where (spoiler alert) a German soldier in WWII spared from a cruel and unethical death by the compassion of a kindhearted poet “repays” his kindness by murdering his Jewish comrade later in the movie. And what do both of these movies convey as a result? Certainly not an anti-war message, for an anti-war message proves that war is needless and futile. How can your movie show war is needless, when Germans are depicted as ontologically evil - when kindness toward them is depicted as a flaw and a weakness? No amount of gore and sadness will fix that leak, because all you’ve told us now is that war is terrible, but completely necessary. That it’s just the awful burden our Good Righteous HeroesTM must bear to fight off the forces of evil. You know, Kantorek-from-All-Quiet shit. Do you really want to be spouting Kantorek-from-All-Quiet shit? Of course you don’t.

But do you not want to because of his ideology? Or do you just not want to because he’s German?

I wonder.

(P. S. This isn’t directly related to the movie, but it’s mentioned in the reception section on Wikipedia that this movie is historically inaccurate because it features some black British soldiers mixed in with all the rest - a demographic claimed to have been “negligible”. Now, I’m not a historian, but given that there was more than one black officer in the British military during the war (including a known former cricketer and an RFC pilot, among others), I think it’s probable that the section was full of shit. No documentation in the British Army existed on whether or not any given enlisted soldier was black, so there are no exact numbers to prove anything one way or another, but the existing handful of officers suggests the portion of black enlisted men was likely much higher than that. There may not have been a lot of black British soldiers in WWI, but there’s absolutely no way there were none at all. So like, good on 1917 for having black soldiers, at least. Wish they were in a less frustrating film.) (P. P. S. If you want to see a piece of Allied media do in a paragraph what this movie couldn’t do vis-a-vis Germans in a two-hour-plus runtime, I recommend playing the game Over the Top on the Canadian War Museum website. Yes, really. Check it out. It’s free, it’s not that long, and it’s worth it. The Dawn Patrol movies do a good job of humanizing Germans, too, and go out of their way to do so when they didn’t need to to serve the plot - and those were only made two decades or less after the actual war. If they could do it, why couldn’t 1917? Embarrassing.)

Edit: Having now watched Grand Illusion, I am even more mad at 1917. Grand Illusion, aside from the many other ways it humanizes both sides excellently (and doesn't shy away from flaws, either), has a section involving two French escaped prisoners being given shelter by a German war widow and her young daughter, and they spend a brief amount of time getting to be a sort of makeshift family despite it all. It brings to mind the only major plot detail of 1917 that I didn't mention in this review - Schofield encountering a frightened young woman and a baby while traveling through the burned-out shell of what he thought was an abandoned village. Upon seeing her, I remember thinking "Oh, thank God. A hiding German woman. This movie finally remembered Germans are in possession of souls. Perhaps, together, they can share some scrap of kindness, even as the war rages around them."

Nah. She's French. The baby isn't hers, either - she just found the baby and is looking after it. Because you know how the Jerries are - razing villages and endangering innocent women and children! It's just what they do! Never mind that Grand Illusion - which, like the aforementioned Dawn Patrol movies, also came out around twenty years after the First World War and right on the cusp of the Second - could acknowledge mutual humanity. That's just what the Germans want you to think.

#red randomness #red reviews #wwi #i don't want to tag 1917 because it's not really fair to the people who *did* like the movie to go and be mean on their fan tag #but i did want to post it on my account nevertheless #because this movie makes me want to punch a wall #will red reviews be a new series? maybe not lmao. we'll see.

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