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poeticpascal · 1 year ago

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Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

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

Word count: 10.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like losing someone you really, really love.

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

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

And there aren’t even any cows.

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

So when she left, that hurt.

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

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

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

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

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

But it still goddamn hurts.

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

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

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

Which only calls for one thing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had a feeling she’d say that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you really come with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The memory changes, then.

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

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

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

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

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

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

“Are you nervous?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And there she is. Sarah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Dad, but-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

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

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

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

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

And that makes you really smile.

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

“Is it true? Are you really… her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

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

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

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence.

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

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

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

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

“How do you get back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

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

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

“So is that, like, on a ranch?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then he laughs.

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

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

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

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

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

“So do you.”

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

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

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

It’s powerful.

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

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

And things are good after that day. Really good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t fight his, either.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then again, people can change.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at him. “Love.”

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

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

Until you put your foot in it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

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

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

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

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

That really, really hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you do what he said. You leave.

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

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

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

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

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

“I have to.”

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

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

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

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

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

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

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

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stem-sister-scuffle · 8 months ago

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STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 3 MASHUP 4

Jade Harley (Homestuck) vs Entrapta Princess of Dryl (Netflix She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Jade Harley is a Nuclear Physicist, Roboticist, Ectobiologist, and Cosmic Manipulator (warping space and planets)!

Entrapta Princess of Dryl is a Roboticist, Programmer and First Ones' Tech Historian/Archaeologist!

Why you should vote for each contestant:

Jade Harley:

"She's soo fun and silly and her symbol is literally an atom. she regularly irradiates steak to feed her weird dog"

"She and her nuclear powered dog creating a new universe. she's cool"

"Built a modded bass guitar that's only playable when she's in her robot form and has extra arms. Became a doggirl. She also plays the flute :)"

"i think you have enough ramblings about her already but i couldnt NOT submit her, she is so dear to me <3"

"bbg has THREE scientific specialties!! she genetically modifies plants and makes them grow beautifully high just because she can and loves science. in her alpha timeline she’s a tech mogul and creates technology that challenges the evil empress that brought earth to ruin. AND she’s a furry"

"Doggy"

"She plays a silly flute refrain. She's a furry. Literally, she's a doggirl. She's also a god and created the universe. JADE BEST GIRLIE!!!!"

Entrapta Princess of Dryl:

"She builds robots!!! She's curious and inquisitive!! She loves her robots!! She has the coolest hair and also I want to be her bestie. She's an absolute love"

"autism :)"

"Builds robots and computers for fun and companionship. Can take apart and understand almost any tech she is presented with. Autism lever set to max and I love her. Mandatory boob window in all her outfits and I've never related harder to a character."

"autistic icon, amazing inventor and app round excellent character"

"she has prehensile hair it’s literally the best thing i’ve ever seen in my life, it’s never once acknowledged by any of the characters as abnormal or explained in any way i’m literally obsessed with it. also autism queen"

"PIGTAILS!!!! autism"

"Entrapta is very bubbly and positive. She never lets anything like losing her friends or going to the bad side or getting put on a death-sentence island stop her from scientific pursuits! She actually drives a lot of the conflict in the story, as she explains the technological backstory of the world, and helps both sides be better at fighting. She loves data, doing experiments, and the scientific method. She's also in love with space. She is an autistic queen <3"

"phenomenal canon autism representation without being weird & shitty. also she’s so strange & wonderful & relatable in so so many ways. my computer is named Darla bc that’s what she named the AI for the spaceship in s5"

"She is THE science queen because she loves science so much and her love of it is INFECTIOUS. I don’t know anything about science but Entrapta makes it seem like the coolest thing in the universe. I love her"

"She ourple. I luv her"

"She's so passionate about her work. Takes through notes! Figured out how to hack her home planet!!! She's autistic as hell and I like her overalls."

"You won’t get autism like this anywhere else bestie"

"amoral mad scientist who flips between the good guys and bad guys, loves building so many inventions, ends up converting the head bad guy (for most of the series) to good through the power of love"

"She has outfitted her entire castle to be a maze, and installed electronic locks on some. Her staff seems to be mostly robots she has built herself. In good part reverse engineering or adapting ancient tech found on the planet. She's incredible at what she does and personally fixes, invents and builds a wide range of stuff from space ships to portals to a prosthetic exoskeleton to trackers to war machines. She can do it all. Autism win! Girlie has been criticised for being treated childlike or being unable to understand those around her to a ridiculous degree, but I'm honestly just glad she's not a Sheldon Cooper. Her favorite bots have personalities and therefore implied AI (but not the shitty kind), which means she's pretty fucking good at software too. She likes tiny foods."

"So very autistic about technology. Initially believes robots are way better than people, eventually makes human friends but also very much still has robot friends (I love Emily so much). Gets so excited about finding new First One's tech. Also her happy spinning around in a space suit in that one season 5 episode heals my heart every time I watch it"

"She's the planet's leading expert on ancient tech (sci-fi/fantasy universe) and develops most of the tech in the show and is very autistic about it. i love her"

"She is fun and funky. Chaotic neutral. Definitely some autism coding going on, which is very charming. She has a pet robot? It is cute"

"Bc she is ENTRAPTA!! No srsly she is such a well-written character. At times kinda morally grey but always lovable and great and she is truly amazing at what she does!! I'm pretty sure she's already been submitted but I wanted to make sure :)"

#stem sister scuffle #round 3 #homestuck #homestuck jade #hs jade #jade harley #netflix she ra #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #spop entrapta #entrapta

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year ago

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Now Loading...

Starring: Frat boy! Sukuna and a (possibly) pregnant reader

Synopsis: Funny how something as small as a grain of rice can cause a shift so massive in so many lives. Deny all he wants, you're having a baby and now Ryomen has to comes to terms with being a young dad. While it can be read on it's own, this is also part of the Frat Boy Au, which you can read here!

Content Warnings: a pregnancy scare, other than that, it's mostly fluff ;)

(Also, if yall want a song to go with the fic: New Mistakes by Jellyfish inspired it)

You had experienced time slowing down before. It slowed down as you walked across the stage for your high school graduation. It had slowed down again when you got your acceptance letter to college. It slowed down the first time you saw your now boyfriend, and when you met his mom for the first time. But it had never been slower than it was now, as you sat on your bed, staring at the Clearblue pregnancy test in your hand.

“Well, what’s it say?!” You roommate, Mei Mei, asked- arguably more nervous than you were. She knew Ryomen was bad news, but she didn’t think he was this fucking bad. She moved to try and take the test from your hand, only for Shoko to slap her shoulder.

“Stop making a bad situation worse Mei.” Shoko growled, irritated from not being able to light a cigarette during this high stress situation.

“Two lines…” You mumbled, not looking up from the stick, “Two lines, what does two lines mean!?” Their expressions told you everything you needed to know. Panic filled you as you dropped the test and grabbed a pillow to scream into. God, how could you have let this happen?! Your period was only a few days late, you had taken the test mostly to put Mei Mei at ease. You didn’t know if you were happy you took it or not anymore.

“It’s okay Y/n, we’ll figure this out.” Shoko sighed as she rubbed your back, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“How am I supposed to tell him?!” You panicked as you ripped your head up from the pillow, “How do you tell someone you ruined there life?!”

“You ruined his life?!” Mei Mei scoffed in disbelief at the assertion, “You should be asking him how the hell he plans to make this up to you! He ruined your life!”

“Nobody's life is ruined!” Shoko snapped at the both of you. “It’s a baby not cancer, Jesus fucking Christ. And it’s not like you don’t have options. You’re the one in control here Y/n, whatever you want to happen will happen.” She said, motherly assurance uncharacteristically thick in her tone. It did make you feel a little bit better about the situation. You weren’t absolutely powerless here.

And it wasn’t like you were against being a mother. Quite the contrary, you liked the idea. Of course, you never thought it would be this soon in your life, but…the universe had a funny way of handling things. And if you were going to have a baby, you didn’t think you could have picked a better guy than Ryomen. He was loving, and kind, not to mention the fact he was guaranteed a good job out of college. But, you also knew that he was beyond nervous about being a dad one day, terrified by the notion of becoming his own father.

“I need to talk to Ryomen.” You sighed.

🍼🍼🍼

“Dude, In what world does a theoretical physicist need to know about the themes of The Metamorphosis, so a dude becomes a bug, so wh-”

“Hey, shut up Y/n just texted me.” Ryomen cut Satoru off as he checked his phone, the buzzing alerting him to a notification. They were sitting next to each other on the couch, venting about classes they hated. Sugruru was sitting on the arm of the couch closest to Satoru, and Nanami taking up an entire love seat across from them as he played on his own phone. It was a relief to have an excuse to end this conversation really. Ryomen did not have it in him to try and listen to his frat brother straight up misunderstand classic literature for the millionth time.

“And you couldn’t wait to answer it until I finished my sen-”

“No, Y/n texted.” Ryomen said without looking up from his phone, but trusting his tone got across his annoyance. Satoru knew you took precedence, Ryomen didn't know why he was acting like you didn’t all of the sudden.

“And she couldn't wait for two-”

“Are you still talking?” Ryomen snapped. Satoru let out an irritated grumble, frustrated he couldn’t go on his (ill informed) rant about how classic American literature, and literature in general, was useless. “Y/n wants to come over.” Ryomen informed his frat brothers. “Like, now.”

“What’s up with Y/n?” Suguru asked from his spot on the arm of couch, deciding it was safe to enter the conversation now that there was no hope of Satoru going on his rant.

“No clue, she just says we need to talk.” He grumbled softly as he typed on his phone. It wasn’t like you to be this cagey about anything, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him at least a little.

“Dude, shes gonna break up with you.” Satoru's mouth moved faster than his brain did, and for it he got a swift elbow to the stomach.

“No she’s not.” Ryomen hissed. “She just wants to talk.”

“It’s probably to make plans for fall break, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Nanami said, quickly getting irritated with all the arguing.

“Yeah, the dorms close in, what, like two weeks?” Suguru confirmed, “She’s probably gonna ask to stay with your family so she doesn't have to fly back to her own.”

“You’re probably right.” Ryomen took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. That made sense. You got along great with his mom and brother, and your own family basically not at all. It tracked that you would rather drive a few hours and spend a week with people you liked than fly out to people you didn’t. Yeah, that made sense. Yeah.

So why did he still feel so anxious?

🍼🍼🍼

Ryomen had never been more convinced that you were going to leave him than he was now. As you sat across from him on the bed, starring at your fidgeting hands as if they held the secrets to the universe. Something was palpably wrong, he could feel it hanging in a thick veil between the two of you. He didn’t know if he should reach beyond it to hold you, or give you your space and let you come to him. He settled on nervously picking at his nails.

“So, uh, you wanted to talk?” He asked.

“Yeah, I, uh..I’m just trying to think of how to say this.” You muttered. He felt the color drain from his life when you said that. What did he do? Was it about Amy- or whatever the fuck her name was? That was a month ago now, surly it wasn’t that. Was it someone else? That thought made Ryomen realize that actually, he was capable of murder.

He could feel his jaw clench at the thought of you with another man, white hot rage filling his hands and emotions while images of you with a stranger flashed in his head against his will. What the fuck did that asshole have that he didn’t? What made them think they were worthy of your smile, of your laugh, of you? Who did they think they were?

“Ryomen, I’m pregnant.”

“He’ll never love you like I do.” There was a thick silence of a different variety as they two of you spoke over each other, both of you trying to process what the other said.

“A-are you saying the…baby won’t love me?” You weren’t offended, you were just confused.

“You’re fucking pregnant?” Ryomen could feel his entire world shifting in real time. Thank god you weren’t leaving, but…Pregnant?

“Yeah, that’s what I said, what did You say?” You questioned again, trying to figure out where the fuck that came from. Of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t whatever he said.

“It doesn’t really matter what I said, forget I said anything, how long have you known?” He asked, finally pushing past the veil to wrap his arms around you.

“Like…maybe thirty minuets?” You sighed, rubbing your face as the stress came back. “My period was a week late, so…I took a test, and well…Baby.” You still weren’t sure this was all real.

Ryomen felt the world freeze around him as reality took hold. A dad? He couldn’t be a fucking dad. He was in his fucking twenties, he still had two years left until he graduated, he couldn’t be a dad yet! He thought about his own father, who buckled under the pressure and ran off the moment things got hard. What if he inherited that kind of cowardice? Hell, he didn’t even have the spine to tell his dad to fuck off when he came back in his life after eleven years of radio silence just to completely take control of his future, how the fuck was he supposed to raise a child?!

“Babygirl, that’s amazing!” He smiled, pulling you into his lap and kissing your forehead, “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“You think so?” You whispered, taking some comfort in his confidence, It eased your own fear about the uncertain future.

“Of course I do.” He assured you with the grin that got you into this mess in the first place. Ryomen was fucking petrified of what came next, and he could tell you were too. To him, easing your fear was the most important thing. He could have his own freak out later, right now he needed to be here for you.

And his words did the trick. Slowly you could feel the tension melting from your shoulders as it settled in that he wasn’t mad, and you weren’t in this alone. “God, I was so scared you where going to leave.” You confessed, feeling the tears pool in the corner of your eyes. His arms tightened around you, holding you like he feared you might be the one to run.

“I’m not going anywhere Babygirl, I promise,” He swore to you, kissing the top of your head, “Wherever you are, that’s were I’ll be. Right next to you and our baby.” His smile was so reassuring, for a second, you actually felt hopeful for the future. He pulled your face to his, and you melted into his kiss.

Ryomen laid with you in his bed, cuddling and talking softly until you finally passed out. He insisted on you staying the night with him, if for no other reason than he found comfort in having you near. He waited until he knew you were in a deep sleep, breathing softly and steadily. He kissed your cheek before he slipped out of bed, into the kitchen for a beer, then out to the balcony to drink it. He was leaning against the old wooden railing, running a hand through his hair as he tried to visualize what his future would look like now.

“So a baby, huh?” He nearly jumped out of his skin at Suguru's voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ, a warning Geto!” He hissed as he took a drink of the cheap beer, giving Suguru the side eye as he leaned next to him.

“Sorry, I’ll make sure to yell at the top of my lungs everywhere I go from now on.” Suguru chuckled softly.

“How do you know we’re having a baby?” Suguru grimaced a little at the pink haired mans question, knowing he got the information through unethical means.

“Satoru listened in on yours and Y/n conversation.” He said as if his ear wasn’t pressed up against the door too, “Sorry.”

“Mmm.” Ryomen groaned, not wanting to accept the apology, but acknowledging it none the less.

“So…whats the plan?” Suguru asked the question no one really wanted to ask, but everyone wanted the answer to.

“The plan is I’m going to be a dad, I guess.” Ryomen grumbled, not really use to the idea yet. He took another drink.

“Well, in that case, congratulations then!” Suguru smiled, taking the cheap beer from Ryomen’s hand and lifting it up, “To the new dad! You’ll do great.” He said as he took a drink.

“Gee, thanks you’re too kind.” Ryomen scoffed.

“Hey man, I’m serious.” Suguru insisted, “I think you’ll be a great dad, if for no other reason than cause your dad sucked. You have the perfect example of what not to do.”

“No I don’t.” Ryomen argued, stress edging into his tone against his will, “My dad wasn’t even there to show me what to not do, he was fucking gone! I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do!” His panic was getting the better of him. He took his beer back and took another drink.

“No one does.” Suguru chuckled, still as calm as ever. “You think this shit comes with a manual? No parent in the long history of parenting has ever known what they were doing. But, you’re worried about it. You’re worried about being a good dad. And that’s further than any shitty parent gets. Probably further than you’re dad got. It shows you care man. And besides, you’ll have Y/n with you. She’s going to be a fantastic mom. If shes got the patience to deal with us, a toddler will be a breeze.”

“I don’t know man. What if…what if I am just like my dad?” Ryomen muttered. He looked just like him. He was going to take over his business. Hell, after his dad forced him to be a business major, Ryomen even changed his last name back to his fathers. It made sense at the time, a Sukuna should be the one to take over the Sukuna family business. But, now? Now that he had to pass that last name on? He wasn’t sure he wanted it. “What if it’s just…in my blood to be my dad?”

Suguru actually laughed at that, hard enough to embarrass the man next to him. “Ryomen, being a shitty person is not genetic I assure you. If it was, Nanami would be a lot more insufferable. It’s not up to our parents to decide who we are as people, that for us to decide and us alone. You’re not your DNA sequencing, you’re the actions that you take and the choices that you make. Your father has no control over that.”

“I mean…yeah. I guess you’re right.” Ryomen muttered, taking another drink before handing the bottle back to Suguru. As cliche as it may have been to say, he was starting to feel better. Maybe he wasn't doomed to be his father. Maybe the Sukuna name wasn’t a death sentence.

“Of course I’m right.” Suguru grinned as he finished off the beer. “So what are you going to do now?” He asked.

“Now?” Ryomen sighed, “Now I need to go talk to my mom.”

🍼🍼🍼

It was a week before Ryomen found the time to make the drive home. A week that he spent attached to your hip. A week making sure you didn’t have to lift up a single thing, a week of threatening anyone who dared smoke around you, and a week of coming to terms with his new future. The two of you had spent the time researching doctors, and on baby forums looking for advice. He was relieved to admit, he kinda became fond of the idea of having a little baby running around.

He started to imagine what they would look like, what they would sound like, and what their favorite color would be. Money wouldn’t be an issue once he took over Malevolent Shrine International, so he wasn’t worried about that. Honestly, you wouldn't have to work if you didn’t want to, and if you did want to he could afford child care. The two- No. The three of you were going to be okay. He hoped it would be only three.

He knocked on the door of his childhood home, having forgot his key and not being willing to go all the way back for it. Much to his dismay, Yuji answered the door.

“Sorry, sign says no solicitors.” He said, quickly trying to close the door. Ryomen was fast to push against him, trying to get his body through the crack in the entry.

“Open the door brat or I’m going to wipe your hard drive.” Ryomen threatened,

“College hasn’t changed you one bit, has it?” Yuji scoffed, sticking his tongue out at his brother.

“It’s made me more prone to violence, wanna see?” Ryomen growled as he pushed against the door harder. Yuji stood firm though, an immovable object to Ryomen’s unstoppable force.

“I’m going to tell Y/n you said that!” It was Yuji’s turn to threaten, “I’m also going to tell her that you beat me up! And you’re mean! And that you kick kittens!”

“Why you little-” Ryomen finally got his arm through the small space, almost getting a hand on his little brother before his mothers voice brought the entire show to a halt.

“Are you two Trying to break my door?!” She sounded exasperated, “Yuji, let your brother in!” The moment their mother got involved the boys remembered how to act, with Yuji calmly opening the door and Ryomen walking in like he wasn’t just trying to strangle his little sibling.

“Hi Mom.” He said, smiling warmly as she came up and hugged him.

“Hi Honey,” She said, giving him a soft pat on the cheek. “Wheres Y/n? I made coffee.”

“She had a test today, she couldn’t make it.” He said. That was a lie. You were completely free, but, he didn't want you here for this conversation.

“Mmm, you know your ears turn red when you lie, right?” His mom laughed as she walked to the kitchen. He followed her with a roll of his eyes, sitting at the kitchen table.

“She was busy, alright?” He defended himself as his mom put a coffee cup in front of him, sitting across from him with her own.

“Sure. So what did you need to talk about sweetie?” She asked. Ryomen took a moment to really study his mom. She didn’t look so different from how he remembered her in his childhood. A few more wrinkles, a lot more gray hair, but still his mother none the less. He wondered how she felt when she realized she was having a baby.

“So, um…Y/n is…” He couldn’t make eye contact.

“Ryomen, don’t tell me you got that poor girl pregnant.” She gasped, putting down her mug and looking at him with demanding eyes.

“Why would you jump to that?!” He tried to deflect.

“Then tell me she’s not.” She said, looking at him with a scowl that dared him to try and lie.

“....She is.” He sighed, taking a drink from his coffee to get away from her disappointed gaze.

“Sweet Jesus...” His mom sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. Then she laughed a little, shaking her head with a soft smile she tried to hide behind her coffee cup.

“What?” He asked. She shook her head again.

“Nothing just…well, I guess I was around your age when I had you. A little younger. You can’t really be mad at the apple for not falling too far from the tree now, can you?” She chuckled softly, and it put Ryomen at ease. So she wasn’t going to eviscerate him. Good.

“Yeah, well…Gotta honor some family traditions, am I right?” He tried to joke, only to be quickly shut up by his mothers disapproving glare.

“So whats your plan big man?” She asked, “You’re not going to leave her alone with this, that’s for damn sure.”

“No mom, I couldn’t even imagine-”

“Good, cause I’ll choose Y/n over you every time.” She teased.

“I know mom.” He smiled, “Good to know you like her, cause that makes this question a lot easier to ask.”

“Oh?” He really caught her attention now.

“I was wondering, do you know where Grandmas wedding ring is?” He bit his lip as he finally said it out loud. Even before you were pregnant, every time Ryomen imagined his future, it was always with you as his wife. He couldn’t conceive of a life without you by his side, now more so than ever. He was going to make things right, and unlike his own dad, he wasn’t going to wait for the second baby to do it. He knew he was on the right track when he saw his mothers proud smile.

“As a matter of a fact, I think I do. I think I know where some of your old baby clothes are too, hold on.”

🍼🍼🍼

“Ryo!” You smiled as he walked into the entry of the frat house, carrying a walmart bag of old baby clothes. You were down the stairs and in his arms in an instant, laughing happily as you jumped to him. He caught you with a grin, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground.

“I could get used to that.” He teased. You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“I’m sure you could. Ryo, I have amazing news, I- wait, what’s in the bag?” You asked as your brain finally registered that there was something in his hand.

“Oh, yeah!” He smiled excitedly as he put the bag on the coffee table, “Remember how I went to talk to my mom? She says hi by the way, but look! She still had some of mine and Yuji’s old baby clothes!” He said, pulling out a truly precious onesie, covered in stars and a rocket ship, followed by a red, blue, and yellow stripped jumper.

“Oh baby-” You sighed as you realized your good news might actually not be good news.

“I know it’s not a lot, and its all kinda old and used, but it’s a start, you know? Something to bring the baby home in.” He said, putting the clothes down and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Baby, I’m not pregnant.” You dropped that like a nuke. He blinked at you as he tried to process what you just said.

“Huh?”

“I’m not pregnant Ryomen, I’m sorry. I got my period.” You said, gently cupping his cheek. You did not expect a reaction like this at all. Confusion, sure, but not…disappointment?

“But I thought you took a test?” He asked, trying to catch up to reality.

“I did, but it must have been a false positive. Apparently that’s pretty common with my birth control.”

“Oh…” He wasn’t expecting to feel so upset about this either. Like the entire world he had build up in his mind was gone. He realized he was going to be mourning the death of someone who truly never existed, and felt so ridiculous about it. He didn’t realize he was tearing up until you brushed a tear off his cheek.

“I’m sorry Ryo…but, hey! Look on the bright side, we get to keep our twenties!” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled gently and nodded.

“You’re right it’s just…I don’t know. I kinda liked the idea of starting a family with you.” He confessed softly, an idea that would have made his skin crawl just a little over a year ago. You really did force him to grow up. You laughed a little more sincerely this time, and gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry Ryo, if you want a family, you’re gonna have to upgrade from the girlfriend package to the wifey bundle.” You teased him.

“Y/n!” Gojo yelled from up the stairs, “Nanami got tired of waiting for you, he un-paused the game!” You paled as you realized that Nanami was unfairly demolishing you at street fighter.

“Hey! That’s illegal!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to try and salvage the round. Ryomen watched as you ran away, an unfamiliar fondness growing in his chest. Normally, he would have been unbelievably jealous you were hanging out with his friends- especially without him. Now though? He saw it as a good sign.

“Upgrade, huh?” He muttered, mostly to himself. His hand dropped into his pocket, clutching the ring box there. “Don’t worry Y/n. I plan on it.” He promised as he went up stairs to join you.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk frat boy au #frat boy sukuna #sukuna fluff #domestic sukuna #curseless au #dad sukuna #sukuna x reader fluff

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alonetimelover · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: Harry Styles x physicist!reader

summary: The aftermath of the leak is hard on everybody in dr YN YSN's circle, but especially for her. The gossip, magazines, paparazzi and haters do not help the case.

warnings: hate speech, swearing

a/n: hi! so yes, this is a re-upload of the 3rd part of the physicist!reader. earlier this week tumblr wasn't working with me, not showing this on tags or even my own home page. and with that, i decided to post it again so maybe some more of you could know what's been happening in the world of physicist!reader. i hope you'll enjoy!

part 1 part 2 taglist

@celesteblack08

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The Sun

Oxford Is Firing The Famous 'Higgs Professor' and Harry Styles' Girlfriend Dr YN YSN

Written by John Addams

The infamous and TikTok sensation dr YN YSN, lecturer at Oxford University, is being fired after intimate photos of her and boyfriend, Harry Styles, saw the light of the day.

Starting at the beginning, the relationship between two became a fact over a year ago, when dr YSN went viral for her explanation of the Higgs mechanism based on Harry Styles' music. As we got to know from their joined street interview for meetcutesnyc on Instagram, the relationship florished after meeting at their mutual friend's (Christopher Nolan) party. Dr YN YSN was the science consultant for the director's latest movie, Oppenheimer, and Harry starred in one of his films, Dunkirk - making it happen.

Everything was going smoothly till the morning of three days ago. YN's iCloud was hacked, revealing personal and intimate information about not only the owner but her boyfriend as well.

'Dean is furious,' says our source. 'He cannot believe that the best lecturer could be this reckless'.' After the posed question on whether the decision of firing could be announced any time soon, they said, 'it's just the matter of time. But it's going to be sooner rather than later. Oxford is going to lose a fair and talented professor, but it is not its fault. Someone was the author of those, let's say information that was exposed. And it's going to be their fault entirely.'

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harrysmoustache

liked by hArrysbtch, harryupdates and 23 482 others

harrysmoustache Harry and YN couldn't leave the restaurant safely because a bunch of paps and 'fans' showed up at the location. Not only was it physically dangerous, but the things that were spoken towards (mostly) YN were disgusting. Calling her names and ready to fire her on the spot because of the PRIVATE PHOTOS she took with her boyfriend, which then someone ILLIGALY POSTED ONLINE after HACKING HER ICLOUD. Did y'all forget about TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS?????

view all 5 402 comments

harrysmoustache and don't make me start on that bullshit that the sun did... RIDICULOUS

harryupdates After all those years, and all those situations that he went through, I'm still surprised that people can be this cruel to him and people that he loves

hArrysbtch they hatin' my girl cause of some sexy photos... bastards

hArrysbtch why would they care what she does after Uni hours??? it's none of your business

scienceandharstyles it's heartbreaking to see a person that gives others the world and shares her knowledge and wears her heart on her sleeve being treated like garbage

harrymylove those were not harry fans

stylesbabie monstrosity

user56 why do y'all care for her this much??? jezz..

⤷ hArrysbtch maybe because she's a good human being treated like the worst person alive just because she snapped a few photos of her and her boyfriend

⤷ user56 wouldn't that be the consequences of her own actions?

⤷ hArrysbtch nope. her phone was hacked. how many times you take photos of yourself and think 'oh god, what if my gonna be hacked and this will be posted?'

⤷ harrysmoustache hArrysbtch ohhh, babes!!! you closed that haters mouth!!!!

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drynysn

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 738 492 others

drynysn During one of my latest lectures one of the students asked about accuracy in Sci-Fi movies, so I decided to start a little series of: Is this SCIENCE or just FICTION? Firstly, we'd look into the scene from Spider-Man 2 (2004). The scene where Peter Parker (Spider-Man) is stopping the train from its eventual crash. he shot multiple web lines, then they stretched and didn't break. One would say it is not possible. But! From the way the scene is shown to us, we are able to estimate how strong the web needed to be for it to happen. After looking up the train's mass, you can estimate its initial velocity (how far it can go per hour, so km/h) by seeing exactly how long it takes to pass the city blocks. (1)

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drynysn (2) You can look up, measure, the distance over the webbing stretches, and then estimate its diameter . You can also count the number of web lines. NOW, we end up with a tensile (fancy way of saying elastic) strength for the webbing that has to be about 1 000 megapascals (mega meaning milion) which is equivalent to about 102 036 704 kilograms per square metre (which is 145 000 lbs/square inch - for you, my American friends on here).

drynysn (3) What is absolutely mind-blowing is the fact that actual spider silk has a tensile strength of 1 200 megapascals. So, if Spider-Man's webbing would be anyway that strong, that scene was very, very realistic. Rating it 9/10. What scene would you like to see next?

scienceandharstyles that is so informative and making this movie even more iconic!! Did you do all the equations by yourself, dr YSN?

⤷ drynysn Yes, I did! Took me some time to analyse the scene but it was worth it!

harryupdates oh, i need to rewatch this movie immediately!!!

harryismylife could the next scene be the one from The Avengers where Mjolnir after contacting Cap's shield makes that blue light? is that even possible?

⤷ drynysn that's a great scene! i'll look over it!

hArrysbtch i love the little explanations in brackets! i didn't need to look up the tensile thingy!

harrysmoustache you're telling me the scene i was 100% sure was as fake as my eyelashes is true???

user45 maybe you should try explaining showing of that body of yours

user75 is this the new way to make money after being fired?

user281 unemployment doesn't suit you but the consequences of your actions finally caught up with you

user374 i think you should start posting one of those photos the sun included in their article - you'll get more attention

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrymoustache nad 54 292 others

harryupdates HARRY nad DR YN spotted in a small restaurant in Oxford (i'm disabling the comments cause i don't want to deal with the haters)

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hArrysbtch MY PARENTS!!!!!!!! ARE BACK AFTER THE WEEKS OF DRAUGHT!!!!!

hArrysbtch and they look goooood

harrysmoustache i missed them so much..

stylesbabie yn looks so tired and sad

⤷ hArrysbtch it's just one phot of one moment

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harrystyles via close friends IG story

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londonboyharry

liked by harryupdates nad 14 302 others

londoboyharry went to oxford to bump into harry. it's better! i met dr yn ysn, drank coffee with her, talked and laughed my ass off! she is the funniest, kindest and most down to earth person i've ever met. also, after i asked her about all the things that were happening around her, she just said 'what things?' WITH A SMIRK ON HER FACE, SIPPING HER LITTLE AMERICANO AND BEING UNBOTHERED

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harryupdates im so happy that she gives no damn to those people online

hArrysbtch I LOVE HER

harrymoustache the moment the legend the IT girl

stylesbabie happy for you!!!

harrysmylife who would want to meet harry when you can meet dr yn ysn?

scienceandharstyles best woman alive

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scienceandharstyles

liked by drynysn, harrystyles and 56 482 others

scienceandharstyles WE GRADUATED OXFORD!!! to anybody who said there was no way to incorporating pop culture with a biology degree? eat shit! i wrote the whole masters based on musicians' impact on fans' hormonal production. hehe. ALSO, it would not be possible withouth the best teacher, academic inspiration, and person I've ever met - dr YN YSN. thank you!

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drynysn MADELINE, I am so proud of you. It would be not possible without your persisatnce and will to find solutions and answers. This is all yours!

harrystyles Congratulations, Madeline! H, xx.

harryupdates congrats maddie!!

stylesbabie very very proud

harrysmoustache did you perhaps use harry as an example in your work?

⤷ scienceandharstyles YES, I did. Only positive affect of his voice, music and visuals...

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oxford_uni

liked by harrystyles, harryupdates and 748 392 others

oxford_uni Acknowledging the upheaval around one of our lecturers - dr YN YSN, the Chancellor of Oxford University and the Dean of The Department of Physics decided to release the joined statement:

Refuting the words ans statements made by publishers not connected to our University, we would like to inform anybody in concern that one of our grates lecturers dr YN YSN is not decruited. The matter of private life is not concern of the University authority, even more when the said privacy was bridged. At this place, we would like to wish luck during dr YN YSN' s new path - becoming a professor.

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harrystyles <3

harryupdates I KNEW IT

hArrysbtch EAT SHIT THE SUN, EAT SHIT JOHN ADDAMS

harrysmoustache HAHHAHAHAHAHA I KNEW IT !!!!!! BABY THERE WAS NO WAY THEY WOULD FIRE HER

stylesbabie thank god! there is still hope for this world

scienceandharstyles Chancellor and Dean with the best decision ever made

harrysmylife now haters what??? ha??

harrysfan87 i believed in you guys i did

londonboyharry becoming a professor???? good luck yn!!!

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 275 others

yourinstagram There was no better thing that happened to me than meeting you. You support means the world. I love you forever.

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harrystyles Loving you is the greatest honour of all time, my heart <3

annetwist My favourite girl in the world! (besides my daughter)

⤷ gemmastyles Thanks for clarifying, mum

gemmastyles My sister from another mister!

yourbestfriend We need to finally meet up!

⤷ yourinstagram yessss!

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates, annetwist and 10 746 646 others

harrystyles You're just finishing one of your latest publications on the way to becoming a professor. I couldn't have been more proud and honoured to accompany you during this time.

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yourinstagram I love you I love you I love you

annetwist Our smart professor. <3

harryupdates ohhhhhh *melting*

hArrysbtch I'll never get over him posting her on here

harrysmoustache we are back to normal, baby!!!

scienceandharstyles professor YN YSN sounds amazing

harrysmylife BEST. COUPLE. EVER.

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a/n: did you like the way it turned out?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #scientist!reader #physicist!reader

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welcometololaland · 2 months ago

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FERAL THOUGHTS - 911 LONE STAR EPISODE 5 x 03

(I think literally every single one of these posts has had a different title and different tags but whatever it's feral for a reason)

those birds are literally from a taxidermy shop i swear to god they've been dead for a century

Judd's new co-pilot sure is something! he's got a lot to learn but he's a warm body so he'll do

is it dumb that I never knew what that orange wind flag cone thing was for? like do people get taught that in school and i was sick that day or something?

tk's hair is seriously immune to any kind of damage, whoever is in hair and make up drop your product list

trina looking a mess!!! girl!!!!! it's spooky season and she did not miss!

principal crabtree could make me a podcast love her voice

tk believing carlos is the perfect guy for every situation is actually peak married bias and I love them 🤠🤠🤠🤠 i see tk out there like "you need a forty foot tree cut down? i have the perfect guy for you!" / "you need a quantum physicist? no worries, i know the perfect guy." / "what's that? tax accounting? yeah i'm pretty sure i know someone who fits the bill!"

"one or two" is Owen serious rn??? should have gone with rock paper scissors - much more accurate

at least chlorine gas is a pretty colour??? am I rogue for saying that?

owen in his chauffeur golf buggy! slay grandpa!!!

oh so carlos is the perfect man to get hit on by a 10 year old child 😌

FINE FINE FINE alsjslaaj marjan is me: “yeah yeah yeah yeah” (shut up)

girls and their ibuprofen 😌😌😌

paul featuring reinforcement bar pick up sticks I love this!!! he's doing the damn thing!!!

has anyone noticed when tk gets angsty he scrunches his hands??

brian michael smith is legitimately the only person I've seen to look good in those clear glasses (yes rob lowe I'm talking to you)

RUN TK RUN I can see him being a skater boy no lie anyone else see the vision? jumping down a lil step???

wow trevor just fucking went in with a potential break up story 💀💀💀 carlos is like uhhh am I a counsellor rn?? tk??? I'm not always the perfect man for everything??? 😭😭 (lies, you are)

tk that target fan I fkn love your style the sunny optimism is endearing af

wyatt is like why does everyone in this establishment have a death wish?!?!?! do I need to make a will????

tommy: trevor trevor: hi carlos, tk and three children: 👁👄👁

the way tommy says “carlos” UGH put it on repeat

“his big rig” and shameless garlic toast LONE STAR IS A COMEDY

mateo is cancelled for smooth peanut butter choices

paul 😭 love this for him 😭 brb crying sobbing

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #tarlos #lola watches lone star #lone star season 5 #lone star season 5 episode 3 #season 5 episode 3 #tk strand #carlos reyes

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shmreduplication · 8 months ago

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i know this is like totally two weeks ago or whatever but the worst take i saw wrt fairies and walruses was that proof of fairies/magic is more surprising because it would fundamentally change everything we know about everything because suddenly we would know about this universal and invisible force that controls/affects everything in the world or even the universe

and I think that person just had really bad science history education because we HAVE found a universal and invisible force that controls/affects everything in the world or even the universe and, well, it did not change everything we know about everything. It's actually happened multiple times and a new industry pops up to further study it and everyone else just kinda goes on with their lives

Like.....atoms are an invisible universal force. Electrons took longer for people to discover/prove because they're smaller than atoms, and they're also an invisible universal force. DNA is an invisible force that's universal in living beings. Fuckign gravity is an invisible universal force. People still went to work in the day and slept at night and loved their friends and ate buttery foods before and after the discovery of all those things, and the discovery did not affect what they knew about their jobs or sleep or friends or buttery foods

Assuming you're actually old enough to be on tumblr (aka are already 13 years old as of March 18, 2024) then another one of these discoveries has happened within your life time! And it had absolutely fuck all impact on your life unless you're a subatomic particles physicist. The higgs boson was literally nicknamed the god particle and was confirmed to exist in 2013 and that discovery means absolutely nothing to anyone outside of that one small field in physics. Like obviously its existence impacts you because it gives you mass and lets gravity affect you but its discovery means jack shit

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bangobeep · 4 months ago

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Recent discovery/theory me and a bunch of other jazzpunkers have been talking about.

Considering the little crab at the beach congratulates Polyblank on his birthday, and the dates on the guestbook, we thought it'd be silly if he WAS actually on vacation ON his birthday. Which we left somewhere along the lines of the 6th of May. Polyblank birthday yay! :^)

Something else we noticed was how some of the people in the book didn't add a date, but a symbol, such as the encrypted one (that I'll get into later), milktruck, Hunter S. Thompson and The Editor.

First of all, who are the people on the guestbook?

RAYMOND SCOTT -> In our world, Raymond Scott is considered a pioneer for electronica music! He was an American composer, band leader, pianist, record producer, and inventor of electronic instruments.

ENOCH LUSTIG -> Not a person from the 20th century I could find, though the name Enoch does appear in the Bible. Though I don't really think it's a biblical reference, the character of Enoch is known for living 365 years alongside God, and ascending to heaven in life.

GERD ALBERS -> Though somewhat hard to find information about him in English, Gerd Albers was a german architect and urbanist, prominent in the 20th century.

TILO LYMAN -> A possible reference to Theodore Lyman IV! He was an American physicist and spectroscopist known for important discoveries made regarding ultraviolet light, among others.

DAVID COCKERELL -> A direct reference to the real world person of the same name: David Cockerell! He is an electronics engineer and designer. Regarding this first bit, he's known to have designed countless synthesizer engines which were revolutionary for the electronica community!

JOSEF ARNTZ -> Found genuinely nothing about this guy. Mystery!

PROHÍAS -> A very exciting one!! Antonio Prohías was a Cuban-American cartoonist, known and recognized for many artworks! Among those, is Spy vs. Spy!

黒川紀章 -> Kurokawa Kisho, or Kisho Kurokawa is a Japanese architect! Probably in here because he's the founder of the Metabolist movement! It was a radical Japanese avant-garde movement pursuing the merging and recycling of architecture styles within an Asian context. This is the Nakagin Capsule Tower (which Luis Hernandez loves so much) guy!

XAVIER ESPERANTO -> Probably a reference to Esperanto, the language! It is actually artificial, and it was devised in 1887 as an international medium of communication, based on roots from the chief European languages. Not too sure what the Xavier bit refers to.

JOHNY THE ROBOT -> The one under Xavier Esperanto's is Johny (with one N, yes) The Robot's! It's written down in the international telegraph alphabet, which you can see here. The complete message says "HELLO MY NAME IS JOHNY THE ROBOT". The telegraph was a huge thing in the 20th century. Meant to be short and meaningful, it started getting used during the war in the place of letters to communicate messages regarding enemy attacks and positions.

B. MARY -> Bloody Mary or, as you may know her, the Lady in Red! She confirms her name is indeed Mary in one of her unused voice lines, which you can find here.

MILKTRUCK -> Explanation not needed. Love you, milktruck.

HUNTER S. THOMPSON -> A direct reference to the real life Hunter S. Thompson! He was an important American journalist and author known for "Gonzo", a journalistic style in which the writer becomes a central figure and participant in the events of the narrative. In Jazzpunk, you can see him as the confused guy hanging around, lost at sea, asking Polyblank for a date at the bar, and being confused about Why Polyblank is in his room (when he breaks in with the master key).

THE EDITOR -> Needs no explanation.

NOW, A FUNNY LITTLE DETAIL:

THESE. As you can see, they all have something different in the 'DATE' section.

As for Xavier Esperanto's, I am not too sure.

Johny The Robot's is unintelligible.

milktruck's is an n/a. Does this mean the milktruck doesn't want to date. Not Applicable. milktruck doesn't date. We love aromantic rep.

Hunter S. Thompson is confused about being asked to date. If you can recall, from the times he's seen in game, he's always generally confused about everything.

Finally, The Editor has a money symbol. The Editor will go on a date for money. LOL! Fitting.

#jazzpunk #bangoing (:#i love this game and how deep it runs . crazy

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notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder · 1 year ago

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Here is my take on The Atlas trilogy characters after reading the first two books.

SPOILERS YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Libby Rhodes - I find her type characters annoying, but omg I loved her in The Atlas Paradox, and while I ind Ezra interesting, you go girl kill his ass. Also I need more of her alone, mainly using her power alone, but I want to see that from both her and Nico, while they're both physicists, I think it would be cool to see even more differences between them.

Nico de Varona - I feel so bad for my man his boyfriend is being hunted and his girlfriend got kidnapped and his bestie is having god complex issues LMAO, no seriously love him, liked him in the first book, loved him even more in the second, him AND GIDEON love it. Also nearly cried when it was said how alone my guy is, he needs family and he will look for it no matter what

Reina Mori - her god complex is so fun yet so crazy to watch unfold, while she is on the side I think her inner monologue is very interesting to read. Not my favourite character, but she and Callum are imo a great duo, need more of them. She and Parisa should just kiss and be besties.

Parisa Kamali - An icon, a legend, gave us the spiciest scenes in the book so we love her for that. Her power and character is perfect, mainly her decline and her helping my boy Nico. Didn't care for her and Dalton that much (overall I didn't care for Dalton) BUT very excited to see more of true Dalton (The prince?) in book 3

Tristan Caine - GET YOUR FUCKING DADDY ISSUES IN CHECK PLS AND THANK YOU!!!! Jk I love all my bitches equally, but him getting so close to all male figures in his life... nope, him and Atlas could make an unstoppable duo but worry not! His gf is back :) Overall Tristan was always a very hit or miss character for me, can't put a finger on why.

Callum Nova - I love him, like forreal, he is my new obsession, he is absolutely hilarious, I love his energy, the shit he causes, he is there to just do shit and I live for it!! Also made me cry, and you know I love blonde bitches that make me cry (cough cough Howl). Overall I need to read more books about Callum Nova type characters, because yes please. Also dw you don't have to hide your hairline from me I will cure your alcohol addiction <333

Ezra Fowler - girlbossed too close to the sun, very interesting tho, but I love Libby more

Gideon - LOVE LOVE LOOOOOVEEEE pls stop talking to your mama

#i will explode #i love them all so much #the atlas six #the atlas paradox #the atlas complex #the atlas series #the atlas trilogy #libby rhodes #nico de varona #parisa kamali #reina mori #callum nova #tristan caine #dalton ellery #atlas blakely #ezra fowler #gideon

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mister-a-z-fell · 6 months ago

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Mr. Fell - I’d like to ask you a question, sir, but as I am a bit chagrined to be asking it, I must do so anonymously. Sir, is it improper to pray to angels?

I was raised in a religious tradition that encourages praying to saints and other “intercessors”, as that’s considered a way to get additional weight added to one’s prayers on their way to the Almighty. And I notice that the Archangel Michael is often revered as a saint, and so must also be the recipient of prayers.

Additionally, we were taught that the Almighty is busy, very busy, with far loftier things than we can comprehend. We were discouraged from thinking that we should interrupt.

As a result of these two factors, I often find myself hesitant to pray to the Highest power. I feel the need to have a…a middle-man, as it were. Someone who might not be irritated at my small, mortal concerns.

I’m sure you can read between the lines, sir, and know that I am asking if it is alright to pray to you, or to any angel.

Thank you for reading this.

I had to think about this before replying. The world is full of different beliefs and different ways of connecting with the Higher Power, as it were. And I am just one angel. Lowly of rank and — for most people — a fiction. To give you an answer that has meaning but that doesn't presume an authority that isn't mine is a fine line to walk.

But I'll try.

The God of your understanding is big. Vast in a way that is beyond even the most inspired physicist's comprehension.

There is room in that vastness for all the business of the universe, from the crash of galactic tides to the drift of a single protozoon. Your prayers and concerns are neither small nor inconvenient. You are the Almighty's treasured Creation, and you are heard, whether you shout your prayer from a mountain top or whisper it in your innermost heart.

That being said, if you find you're more comfortable asking for angels to intercede on your behalf, there's nothing wrong with that, so long as you pray through us, but not to us. We love you and we'll add our voices to yours. But it’s important that you know that we exert no influence and the answers you receive are not ours.

And sometimes the answer is 'no’.

Keep a hopeful heart and ask for whatever sustains and comforts you.

I hope you hear ‘yes’ more often than ‘no’.

#Hashytag time!#Prayers #Messengers #There’s no harm in asking #Although if you could try to avoid Thursdays after seven pm #That would be greatly appreciated #Obviously if it’s an emergency then have at it

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 1 year ago

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PRELIMINARY ROUND - BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL THE SERIES

PROPAGANDA

Fred Burkle

1.) She is chronically a damsel in distress in the canon even though she has demonstrated her intelligence and ability to use weapons. The canon consistently takes away her agency over her body and ability to make decisions just to further plot. Why does she die because she gets possessed by a god for no reason </3

2.) ok I promise I'll be more normal about the other ats female characters than about cordy. fred was introduced as a genius physicist who had spent five years stuck in a demon dimension where humans were persecuted, surviving on her own and trying to somehow find a way back home. after being rescued from the demon dimension by the show's main characters, she joins the main cast and starts trying to readjust to the normal world. the setup for her character is really interesting, with her having a lot of trauma from her time in the demon dimension, feeling helpless, and struggling to become comfortable living in the human world again. but I guess because she's a Woman the show instead reduces her to just being at the centre of a love triangle with two of the other main characters, which she has almost no agnecy in and gets stretched out over like two seasons. and then after she breaks up for good with one of the guys and it looks like MAYBE she'll at least be freed from love triangle hell, the show introduces a NEW love interest for her just to keep the love triangle drama going. she basically never gets any focus or to be an active player in the show's plot aside from in a couple of episodes, pretty much being reduced to just a damsel in distress. and as if all that wasn't bad enough, fred's story ends with her being killed by a demon that takes over her body and destroys her from the inside out in a way that isn't Technically a mystical pregnancy but is like. close enough to one and presented close enough to one for it to count. (if you read the cordelia submission and are perhaps thinking to yourself jesus christ did they actually fridge both their main female characters in exactly the same way? Yes. Yes they did.) the demon in fred's body then allegedly becomes a new member of the main cast but the show does pretty much nothing with this character and she doesn't play any important role so it really does just feel like fred died for no reason other than to make her boyfriend sad. This is because fred died for no reason other than to make her boyfriend sad. It fucking sucks but I guess it's not like she got any agency or development when she was alive either

3.) Poor Fred. Amy Acker is a fantastic actress and Fred had the potential to become a truly wonderful character - a brilliant scientist who goes through intense trauma and finds her purpose in helping other people. I have a lot of love for her. Unfortunately she was the victim of a lot of really misogynistic writing. For starters, a lot of her characterisation falls into the ‘quirky weird girl who’s hot but doesn’t realise’ camp which Joss Whedon is fond of. Like other examples of this, her trauma is turned into something quirky which fades away once they get bored of it. Also, she becomes completely sidelined and silenced in a love triangle where the feelings of the man pining over her are given all air time, and her own opinion is never mentioned. Additionally, she’s constantly sidelined in the final season after being made the token girl, and is finally killed off unceremoniously to generate drama and pain for the aforementioned man who was pining over her. And you know what the worst part is? She still gets off more lightly than Cordelia.

Cordelia Chase (CW: Pregnancy)

1.) (downs an entire bottle of vodka and slams it back on the table) SO. CORDY. Cordy started off as a supporting character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At the start she was your typical high school mean girl character, but as the show went on we got to see more depth to her character: her insecurities, her courage, her capacity for incredible acts of kindness. Then after the third season she moved into the show's spin off, Angel, where from the beginning she was basically the show's secondary protagonist. Her and Angel were the two mainstays of the show's main cast, she gets the most episodes centered on her out of all the characters aside from Angel (and yes, I've checked), and we really got to see her grow from a very shallow and self-centered and kind of mean person to a true hero who was prepared to give up any chance at a normal life to fight the good fight while still never losing the basic core of her character. There were some… questionable moments like the episode where she gets mystically pregnant with demon babies and things got a bit iffy like halfway through season 3 where the writers seemed to run out of ideas for what to do with her outside of sticking her in this romance drama/love triangle situation with the main character but overall, pretty good stuff right? THEN SEASON 4 HAPPENED. In season 4 she gets stripped of literally all agency and spends pretty much the entire season possessed by an evil higher power, and while possessed she sleeps with Angel's teenage son (who BY THE WAY she had helped raise as a baby before he got speed-grown-up into a teenager it was a whole thing don't worry about it) and gets pregnant with like. the physical manifestation of the higher power that's possessing her. it's about as bad and stupid as it sounds and also is like the third time cordy's got mystically pregnant in this show and like the fourth mystical pregnancy storyline overall (you will be hearing more on that note in other submissions I'm so sorry). after giving birth she goes into a coma, in which she remains for the rest of season 4 and the first half of season 5. SPEAKING OF WHICH DON'T THINK SEASON 5 IS GETTING OFF SCOT FREE HERE. yeah so in season 5 the show just FULLY starts trying to erase cordy's existence. she gets mentioned ONCE in the first episode and then never again until halfway through the season where she wakes up, helps out Angel for a bit and encourages him in his fight against evil, and then goes quietly into that good night and dies so it can be all sad and tragic. I'd call it the worst fridging of all time but even THAT feels generous because the whole point of fridging is killing off a female character so a man can be sad, and after Cordy dies basically no one's even sad about it because the show immediately goes back to pretending she never existed. she is not mentioned ONCE in the two episodes after she dies. in the whole stretch of time between her death and the end of the season she gets mentioned exactly four times. again, I counted. anyway the fun twist to all of this is that all of this happened because the actress who played cordy got pregnant before season 4 and joss whedon was so pissed off about this affecting his plans for the show that he decided to completely fuck over her character and then fire her and write her out of the show. so cordy's a victim of both writing AND real life misogyny!! good times!!

2.) OH SO MANY THINGS they menaced by giving her terrible hair cuts, making her seem like she'd get together with the guy she loves (and who loves her back) but instead she was killed and when she was brought back, she got possessed by an evil entity who used her body to give birth to itself. afterwards she was in a long coma and died. her character was so throughoutly assassinated

3.) She got demonically pregnant TWICE - there was this real sense of a womb/ability to get pregnant as like, a place for evil to get in. She got positioned as femme fatale and evil mother. The actress basically got fired for being pregnant, and when she agreed to come back for a single final episode she specifically said they could do anything but kill off the character. Guess what happened

#polls #preliminary round #cw pregnancy

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hereticpriest · 8 months ago

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Ctrl and Power

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Ernst Schmidt x Female Reader

Summary: You want to tell your crew about your relationship, but you worry about the ramifications. Your boyfriend gives you a little incentive to change your mind.

Warnings: Secret relationships, working relationships, heavy flirting, jealousy and envy, worries of not being taken seriously due to gender and relationship, previous experiences with sexism, Schmidt has anger issues, slight degradation, p in v sex, rough sex, light spanking, spit kink, finger sucking, unsafe sex via lack of protection, creampie, fucked stupid, mentions of future marriage.

Notes: Liebling means darling, liebchen means sweetheart, schatz means treasure, bärchen means cute bear, häschen means cute bunny, Ich bin in dich verliebt means I am falling in love with you, Ich habe mich in dich verliebt means I have fallen in love with you, Ich liebe dich means I love you, Ich liebe dich auch means I love you too.

You're halfway into a deconstructed wall unit attempting to reroute a broken power line when cold fingers tickle along the small gap between your shirt and your trousers. You yelp, instinctively kicking out and scowling at the laughter that follows as you set your tools down on the bottom of the panel. You pull out of the wall and see exactly who you thought you would, a cheeky smirk on his face as he scrolls through a datapad idly behind you. He looks unfortunately handsome with his annoyingly cute scruff and his nerdy glasses, and it softens your ire despite yourself.

"Ernst Schmidt, that is harassment and you know it." You wag your finger at him, and he rolls his stupidly pretty honey eyes as he dismisses an alert on his datapad.

"You're not even ticklish, liebchen." He protests weakly, stepping closer and resting his shoulder against the wall beside you, "you can't blame me for being tempted."

"I most certainly can - your hands are freezing! And don’t call me that, Ernst, be discreet. Besides, Mundy would be on my ass if he thought we were mucking about - he's already being nice not telling anyone about us, and I don't want to tempt him by making him think I'm slacking off." You insist, waving your hand at him insistently to try and get him to leave you alone. In an ideal world, you wouldn't have to chase him off - you'd be able to take the time to talk to him without worrying about what someone might think if they saw you. Unfortunately, it is not an ideal world, and as much as you'd love to stare at his pretty face all day, you have work to do and you can’t be the one to slack off. No one is going to fire the genius physicist, but they could definitely get rid of one of the engineers. You might all have different specialisations, but you doubted that would stop anyone.

Ernst sighs, adjusting his glasses as he looks over the power readout he’d been examining on his datapad when he passed by you, apparently approving of the numbers since he dismisses it and looks back up into your eyes. He doesn't even try to act like he's about to leave. Instead, he smiles, licking his thumb and rubbing away a spot of dirt on your cheek. You smile sheepishly, rubbing away the slick spot.

"You never slack a day in your life, and Mundy knows it. That's why you're his favourite on this whole station." Ernst reminds you, before his voice becomes ardent, his expression yearning, "Liebchen, it's been too long. Visit me tonight."

Your cheeks burn, and you cover his mouth with your hand as you shoot panicked looks up and down the hallway.

"Shh, Ernst, Christ! Send me a message, okay? I know you're one of the geniuses keeping this station going, but I'm just a grunt. No, I'm the grunt's grunt. I'm expendable."

You squeak as he kisses your palm, pulling your hand away quickly to avoid further molestation and huffing dramatically. You even stomp your foot, and Ernst snorts, the fondness in his eyes obvious to anyone who might see him. God, he was so bad at hiding things.

"Relax, häschen, enough thumping. You are not expendable, and no one would say anything if they knew. Perhaps Volkov, but no one important. You think they care more than they actually do. You know Kiel thinks the world of you."

You relax ever so slightly, and turn back to the panel you were working on, "Either way, Ernst. I'll see you tonight."

Ernst smiles brilliantly, and you hide from him by crawling back into the wall panel, missing the look Monk gives you both as he rounds the corner to find the physicist staring directly at your pert ass before he begins to walk away.

You sit beside Mundy at dinnertime, and he slings an arm across the back of your chair, heads nearly pressed together as you look over a power grid overlay of the station. There’s been issues with power fluctuations lately. Nothing that appeared to affect the tests, as it was more of a delay than a lack of power existing, but it was assumed by mission control to be a simple anomaly caused by overachieving systems fighting for power levels. Still, it had bothered you, and you liked to fix things that bothered you even if they weren’t necessary. You point out the reroutes you made, and Mundy grins widely, examining the power readout comparisons.

"Efficient. Good job, kid." He praises you, and you find yourself beaming despite the demeaning nickname. You’re not a child, despite being the youngest on board. Kiel notices your little tête-à-tête and asks what's up as he passes you by to claim his own seat, which makes you cringe at the added attention of the station commander. Mundy brags about your work, giving you a playful shake by your shoulder while Kiel praises the initiative. You're sinking into your seat as you look around the room, only to notice Ernst staring at you and Mundy. Mostly Mundy. Mostly Mundy's arm around your back.

God, men are so tiring.

You roll your eyes, and he clearly notices because he flushes a little and looks away, adjusting his glasses. You're used to his needless jealousy, and he's used to the way you dismiss it. He's the most handsome man you’ve ever met, and he’s intelligent to boot - you have no idea why he thinks you'd ever want anyone else. You suppose that isn't why he's actually jealous, now that you think about it properly. He's not jealous because he thinks you might be interested in Mundy, who is more like an older brother than anything else. He’s jealous because no one knows that you're his. He's jealous of the fact that Mundy can touch you without worrying about what anyone will think of it. He's jealous that you flinch away from the same touch from him that you allow from others simply because you spend some of your nights in his bed and certainly not theirs. Simply because you think that somehow, they’ll notice that it’s different between you two than it is with anyone else.

Part of you knows, deep down, that if you disclosed your relationship with Kiel, nothing would really change on the outside. You want to tell him - withholding it feels like lying - but you’ve spent your entire career in a male-dominated field doing your absolute damnedest to be recognised for your work instead of your tits. You’ve avoided relationships like the plague, knuckled down and given up plenty of opportunities to have fun just to dedicate yourself to your work, all to be seen with an ounce of the same respect as any other joe blow asshole with an engineering degree. You have a Masters degree in Aeronautical Engineering and a Bachelor's degree with honours in Electrical Engineering - you are as qualified as anyone else on this goddamned station. Telling Mundy about your relationship had been one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, and you’d only managed it because he heavily implied that he already knew and definitely approved.

Mundy really is like family - like the older brother you’d never thought you wanted. He knew Ernst made you happy, and that you got your work done despite your relationship, so he encouraged it. Even helped hide it, sometimes, when one of you slipped up. Without him, you think you would’ve been a nervous wreck and fallen apart.

You know Ernst wants more from you than you’ve been able to give him so far. He’s been patient - he respects you and your dedication to your field. He does his best to understand why you’re so tense about your relationship even if he can never fully get it. He is a man, and he’s never had to go through the same kind of discrimination that you have as a woman, but he tries very hard to listen and understand as much as he can. He’s so good to you, so patient and respectful, even when he’s being a dirty, disrespectful little brat. He deserves more. Sometimes, you think you might’ve been selfish to get together with him, but you aren’t strong enough to let him go. Every moment with him is worth a thousand moments without him, as difficult as it is to sleep when he’s only a couple rooms away.

Volkov approaches, looming over you and Mundy like a vulture to survey the grid changes you've made. He hums, and you do your best to be patient as you wait for his reaction, feeling Mundy stiffen beside you protectively. After a long moment, he huffs a surprised breath, dropping a hand to squeeze your shoulder as he murmurs a quiet 'Good job.' before he moves along to his seat across from you. You're shocked - Volkov has never been mean to you, really, but he's never one to mince words and he doesn't give praise often, if ever. You offer him a shy smile that he returns, gaze lingering on you after you look away to grab your drink and sip it.

Ernst is fuming when you meet his gaze, jaw clenched deliciously.

Shit.

The soft sheets below your face smell like his cologne, and you nuzzle against them, even as moans fall openly from your lips. Drool dribbles down your chin, and you do your best to stop it, but a firm hand collides with your plush ass, squeezing and causing your mouth to drop back open. Ernst pushes you forwards into the mattress, squeezing and spreading your asscheeks as he watches you take every single inch of his cock. You claw at the sheets, trying to push yourself up only to feel your lover’s hand slide up your spine to press you back down. You whine, the angle forcing him so deep you can practically feel him in your throat.

“God, Ernst, it’s too deep.”

“Relax, Häschen, you can take it.” He soothes, and you whimper as you feel the bed dip next to you as he plants his foot into the mattress, “You need a bit of punishment, liebchen. Flirting with Volkov, as if he could ever please you with his tiny cock.”

You moan plaintively, reaching back towards him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist in your desperation to touch him. You don’t even have the brain power to refute his claim about flirting with Volkov as he’s already fucked you stupid. He coos at you, pouting mockingly as he puts your hand on your bottom to replace his own, spreading yourself open for him. He trails his fingers up your arm, stroking your forearm, thumb sweeping across the inside of your elbow in a surprisingly gentle gesture while he’s doing his best to rearrange your guts. You make eye contact, and he smiles, kissing his fingers then pressing them to your lips in a sweet gesture, and you clench around him as you take his digits into your mouth as he tries to pull them away. Your tongue rolls across the pads of his index and middle fingers, and you suck gently, eyes half-lidded as your lover bucks into you.

“Ahh, my sweet little liebchen, look at you. Why do you deny yourself this every night? I could make you feel so good.” Ernst purrs teasingly, groaning as he picks up his pace a little, the slap of his pelvis against your ass loud and accompanied by an embarrassing squelch.

“Bärchen…” You whimper, and Ernst hums encouragingly, stroking your lower back in an attempt to soothe you. Despite his rough treatment, he isn’t trying to hurt you.

“What is it, schatz?”

“Wanna hold you.”

Ernst lets out a soft moan, rubbing your flank as he pulls out of you, delicately maneuvering you onto your back. He helps you scoot up on his mattress until your head rests against the pillows, laying between your legs for a moment so he can simply kiss you, gentle as can be. You moan as he pushes back into you slowly, pressing forwards until he bottoms out. You feel a little less overwhelmingly full from this angle, and you give a blissful sigh, putting your arms around Ernst. It’s your first fuck in nearly a week, and every time you go more than a day without him stretching you open, the first time always feels a touch on that side of too full in certain positions. Usually, he’s very good about taking you gently when it’s been a while, but you know he took you a little rougher today because of his frustrations.

“Of course, sweet girl. I’ll give you anything you want.” He purrs, and you stroke his cheeks lovingly, staring into his pretty brown eyes.

”Want you to come inside me and fuck it deeper. Want you to fuck me in the morning and come inside me so I have to walk around all day full of you.” You whisper, “I’m yours, Ernst. Been yours since we were in training, and you told me that terrible joke about astrophysics.”

“It wasn’t that terrible.” He protests, adjusting your hips a little so he can get his hand between you and stroke your clit.

“Yes, bärchen, it really w-” You tease, though you’re cut off by a moan ripped from your throat before you can even finish, and your lover nuzzles his nose against your cheek as he keeps up his steady pace. Your back arches off the bed, mouth gasping for air as you’re struck by the hardest orgasm you’ve had in what feels like an age. Ernst groans against you, pressing kisses to your lips as he thrusts deep into your spasming cunt, stilling once he’s balls deep in your clenching heat.

“Ich liebe dich.” he murmurs firmly against your lips, and you tremble, the gravity of the phrase sinking in deep. It isn’t something said lightly. He’s said ‘Ich bin in dich verliebt’ nearly a year ago, and ‘Ich habe mich in dich verliebt’ more recently in the last couple of months, but never that.

Ich liebe dich.

I love you.

A definitive. In line with his German sensibilities, he waited until he was absolutely sure.

“I love you too, Ernst Schmidt. Ich liebe dich auch.” You sob out, clenching your legs around him, holding his cheeks in a desperate attempt to keep him closer than close.

“Breathe, liebling,” Ernst whispers, pressing kisses across every inch of your face as you both come down from the incredible high, “You’re so beautiful, schatz.”

“Even covered in sweat, hair a mess, and fucked stupid?” You ask, and he laughs, kissing your nose.

“All of that and worse. Though, I am partial to you being cockdumb and pliant for me.” He teases, drawing a giggle from your lips.

“I wasn’t flirting with Volkov. I’d rather eat glass.”

“I know, liebchen. I know.”

“And… I think I’m ready to talk to Kiel.” You add before you can chicken out, watching the shock spread across his face, mouth dropping open as his eyes widen. The delight closely follows, and you pull him into a kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I promise, no matter what happens, I will stand beside you.”

“You fucking better, Schmidt, it’s all your fault. Being so goddamn cute with your stupid physics jokes and your dumb muscular arms for no reason. What kind of physicist is as buff as you? Like, it’s absurd. Completely unnecessary. How dare you be smart, funny, AND hot?”

“Ah, well, I am, as you say… the trifecta? Husband material?”

You can’t help but smack him gently, your face going hot at even the mention of marriage.

Rude!

“So, you came to me to have a very hush-hush meeting to tell me that you’re dating?” Kiel asks as if to clarify, his expression perfectly neutral, giving nothing of his feelings away. You nod, biting at your lip as you squeeze Schmidt’s arm.

“We wanted to let you know. We won’t make a fuss with the rest of the crew, and we won’t let it affect our work, I swear.” You insist. Your lover - boyfriend, though the word feels juvenile for the feelings you have for him - nods in support of you, but his expression is questing as he examines Kiel for weaknesses.

“I know you won’t.” Kiel comments, and you agree instantly, relief coming like a tidal wave until he interrupts your thought process, “considering you’ve been flirting since mission launch, and fucking since… what, a couple of months in?”

Your whole body goes hot with embarrassment, your cheeks on fire as you freeze in place. Were you really that unsubtle?

“I’m fairly sure everyone knows already. We’ve been waiting for you two to finally speak up. Why do you think Volkov is always extra nice whenever he wants to piss your boyfriend off?” Kiel asks, and you blink.

Well, shit.

“I… suppose this meeting is unnecessary then.” Ernst speaks up finally, putting his hand on the back of your neck comfortingly.

“Well, it did stop the clock for bets. Ava lost ages back - she guessed you’d fess up over a year ago.” Kiel comments, and you groan, getting up from your seat quickly.

“Okay, wonderful, great talk Commander. I’m going to go die in a hole now, thanks.” You inform him, fleeing the room so quickly it’s like you were never there. Ernst stands to follow you, and Kiel offers him a slightly softer smile.

“Mundy’ll kill you if you hurt her.”

“I’m aware, and I have no intentions of ever doing that.”

“Good. Ava’s first in line if she ever hurts you - she called dibs. Tam’s still grumpy about it.” Kiel teases, and Schmidt laughs, fondness making his smile warmer than usual.

“Good to know.”

“If you guys decide to tie the knot, we better all get invites.”

Schmidt bites back a grin, rubbing his hands together for a moment before shrugging, “I suppose, keep your eye on your mailbox when we get home then. I promised myself I’d wait until we were groundside again before I asked. We’ll have to figure out a lot of things when we head back. Where we’re going to live is the first and foremost.”

“I think all of that will fall into place quite quickly. It won’t be long. You’ve been making good progress - we’re almost there. I can feel it.” Kiel replies as he gets up from his desk, “C’mon, we better inform the crew so we can settle this bet and get back to work.”

Together, the two men walk down the halls towards the cafeteria, wondering if that’s where you’ve fled to.

“What did you bet?”

A pause. A guilty pause.

“I figured she’d hold out until the mission was over. She’s such a stubborn thing.” Kiel muses, and Ernst laughs, shrugging his shoulders.

“Ahh, she bends easy enough with the right incentive.” He comments as the two enter the cafeteria to find the whole crew gathered. You’re sitting pretty with Mundy, who appears to be trying to talk you off the proverbial ledge.

“Looks like Volkov wins.” Monk comments, and Schmidt groans loudly in protest, “What? It’s your fault you didn’t wait a little longer.”

You beam at that, and your love rolls his eyes, knowing what’s about to come.

“Yes, Monk, it most certainly is Schmidt’s fault. I guess I don’t blame him though - I am pretty great.”

That gains you a round of eyerolls and laughter, but your physicist approaches to kiss the top of your head, sitting on your other side after giving Mundy a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“I can agree with you there, Häschen. Even when you resort to thumping at me.”

It takes every single bit of self control in your body to keep yourself from stomping your foot, the habit so deeply ingrained that it’s second nature.

Schmidt winks at you, and you grin, feeling lighter than you have in ages. Having the secret out felt nice, but the way Ernst kept holding your hand and stroking your ring finger between his thumb and index as if rolling a ring? Yeah, that felt a whole lot nicer.

#ernst schmidt x reader #ernst schmidt

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