#and my rollerblades? where do they go?
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forestshadow-wolf · 6 months ago
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Hey, that part of people's brains that make you think clutter means messy? Yeah fucking KILL IT WITH FIRE
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egophiliac · 2 months ago
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(breathing into a paper bag) FRALIO....
can't believe they gave us another guy. oh my god. so I guess Kelka is more, uhhh, more OOO then, and Fralio is Ankh? not that it matters too much, although they do seem to be doing something with the connected Riders so. who knows. anything goes! or if I may, anything gOOOes! god. of course they're the Ambition parallel. of course they are. oh my god.
fortunately there's nothing else they can throw at me right now that could possibly --
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year ago
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A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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kitasgloves · 2 months ago
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idk if you’ll see this and it’s low key my first time requesting but like..Dazai and chuuya with orange cat girlfriend?
I'm ready to deliver anon 💪🏻
I've discussed this with a friend before and agreed that NAKAHARA CHUUYA is a Norwegian forest cat. I don't see Chuuya as some sort of guard dog or a chihuahua (it's fucking ridiculous). Sure, he's loyal to the Port Mafia but he's a pretty independent person. Norwegian forest cats are typically aggressive and cautious around strangers but they become affectionate when they get familiar with you. And I think that is very much like Chuuya.
Now, Chuuya with an orange cat gf is an interesting pair. Usually, I view Chuuya as someone who's reserved and can depend on himself, he does not seek chaos nor prefers to get entangled in it, however, you seem to attract trouble wherever you go. Your boyfriend always finds you in ridiculous situations that end up in catastrophe.
You try to cook spaghetti for date night, the kitchen almost sets aflame. Going on a date with him at a restaurant, you two were escorted out for getting into a fight with another couple (Chuuya caught the guy ogling you, got pissed off, and tried to kill him all the while you filmed it instead of prying him off the poor guy). Celebrating your anniversary by going on a romantic camping trip with him, you two ended up getting lost from your tent while getting chased by wolves (don't worry Chuuya saved you).
Your natural curiosity was usually the cause of trouble. You seemed to love to fuck around and find out. You're fortunate that the gravity manipulator adored you or else he would've lost his patience long ago. Chuuya does think that your clumsiness and playfulness add to your charm. You were always so outgoing and bright that it was difficult to resist you.
The mafioso was cautious of you at the beginning. He was closed off and didn't engage with you, since you were just a random civilian and he was part of the Port Mafia. You would always see him at your local stores or even the park just relaxing. However, with your persistence in constantly bothering him, he was starting to see how you genuinely wanted to get along with him. He tries to get to know you while slowly letting his guard down. When he sensed no maliciousness from your intentions, Chuuya felt like he could breathe easily.
The way you tugged on his heartstrings by learning all about his preferences made him think that he had to keep you in his life. The fact that you let him be vulnerable around you solidified the moment that he fell for you. It was a long time before he confessed to you, he was afraid at first considering he has lost a lot of dear people in his life, and he wouldn't want to permanently lose you. But after pondering and mustering enough courage, he confesses to you. Chuuya was bombarded with your sweet and wet kisses all over his face, and it made his insides melt.
There are even moments where you draw out the playful side in him too. Just like cats, you and Chuuya enjoy playing around. I would see you two going on dates that involve extracurricular activities like ice skating/rollerblading, hiking, swimming, etc. I also think Chuuya would love to take you on expensive and fancy dates just to see you dolled up for the occasion. And yes, he loves to spoil you with clothes and jewelry as well.
However, I think he's a bit peeved with your eccentric taste in food combinations or music. The executive spotted you mixing chocolate with pasta (rip Italians) once and he never wanted to talk about it again. You also love sending him weird playlists that have incredibly specific names, nonetheless, he still listens to them during his spare time.
"Babe, what are you doing up there?"
Chuuya peeked up on the tall tree where you were stuck, clinging to one of the branches. You grinned down at your boyfriend. Chuuya sighs.
"You know what, don't explain"
"Catch me!"
"What? ...shit! Wait—!"
Without having enough time to activate his ability, Chuuya ended up getting squished on the pavement by his girlfriend. He groans while he feels your giggling weight on top of him.
"Baby, you could've at least waited until I activated gravity"
"Whoops, sorry. Are you hurt?"
The gravity manipulator shakes his head but you lean down to kiss him, hoping any bit of physical pain would magically go away. This makes Chuuya smile and envelope you in his arms.
"You are one silly girl, [Name]"
"Can you carry me back home?"
You batted your eyelashes at him and you know it's enough for him to yield. Oh, how can he say no to his eccentric but lovable girlfriend?
Okay, we all know and agree with the fact that DAZAI OSAMU is a black cat. He's both weird and mysterious. So, him being paired up with an orange cat gf seems natural. Black cats are perceived as intelligent and aloof so I had a feeling that you met Dazai during his time at the Port Mafia.
You were nothing but a disposable civilian who had a quirky personality. And yet this quirky personality of yours has managed to capture his heart. You always found Dazai in public places (I mean, he's always wearing dark clothes so he was easy to spot), and you often tried to strike up a conversation with him. When you found out about his suicidal tendencies, you didn't mock or scold him. Weirdly enough, you started giving him more unique ideas on how to off himself.
"Try mixing bleach with a milkshake, I heard you wouldn't even taste the bleach"
Dazai suddenly looked at you with glimmering eyes and proposed for you and him to commit double suicide. Shockingly enough, you agree. So, when you both jump into a river and Dazai ends up being alive but you haven't emerged from the water yet, his body turns cold.
"Oh shit"
He starts to frantically search for you in the water. To his relief though, you finally swam up to the surface with...is that a fish in your mouth?
"Look! I caught one while I was at the bottom of the river!"
From that day forward, Dazai has officially fallen for you. However, he doesn't confess his feelings to you yet. It was not until he left the Port Mafia and began working at the Armed Detective Agency. He hasn't seen you ever since but that doesn't mean he doesn't think of you often. He has dreamt of your face with that fish in your mouth.
The moment you reunited with him felt like destiny. He was chasing a criminal down the street with Kunikida when all of a sudden, the criminal got hit by a car. His breath hitched when he saw you stepping out of the car and rushing to see if the criminal you hit was alright. Dazai felt like he was seeing you for the first time again.
You recognized him immediately and called him by his first name, which made his heart flutter. Dazai felt like he couldn't waste another moment without telling you how he felt. So, just like back then, he offers you to jump off into a river like before in another double suicide attempt. This time, he feels glad that both of you emerged from the water.
At that moment he tells you how he loved you then and now. You tackled him into a hug which sent you both plunging into the water again. But you gave Dazai a proper kiss when you two swam back to land.
I have a feeling that Dazai loves to enable your weird behavior. He'd encourage you to try outrageous things like diabolical food combinations or bungee jumping without the rope (he swears he's not trying to kill you, okay?). He doesn't have to stress about you being harassed by other men since your logic is to behave as crazy as possible so you won't get picked on. But if some bastard persists in bothering you, all Dazai has to do is stand menacingly behind you, truly channeling his scary black cat aura. It's enough to send them away while shitting bricks.
I've mentioned before that you give Dazai suicide ideas, it's clear to him now that it's all satirical. However, when you tried to off yourself once (as a joke of course), thinking it would make your boyfriend laugh, instead he firmly grabs you by the shoulders and gazes at you intently with his black eyes that are void of light.
"Don't ever do that again"
He scared you at first and almost made you cry. Dazai felt bad and apologized to you by cuddling you and feeding you your favorite food. As much as the thought of double suicide excites him, the idea of you dying genuinely disturbs him.
Dates with him aren't expensive. He's down with strolling with you on the streets and kissing on sidewalks or going stargazing on the rooftop with your legs dangling on the edge. He adored your jokes and silly pet names that you would call him. He'd pet your head affectionately like a cat.
Dazai would often indulge in your antics. You two enjoy chasing each other all over the house or outside like cats. You love plopping on top of him and rubbing your cheek against his chest. Even though he's on the skinnier side, Dazai is strong enough to support your weight and carry you around. He too enjoys snuggling against you and stealing all your body warmth.
You two were walking home after another double suicide attempt. Both of you were soaking wet from jumping into the river. People gave you and your boyfriend weird looks as you two entered the local fast food. Dazai was fishing his pockets and chuckling before whispering to you.
"Darling, I may have lost my wallet again"
You paused mid-chew on your burger and blinked at Dazai. You smiled reassuringly at him.
"Don't worry I'll pay—"
Your stomach drops when you can't feel your wallet in your pockets. You cast Dazai a look and he immediately knows it. Both of you looked at your surroundings and back towards each other. Immediately, you and Dazai made a run for it, bolting out of the establishment with one of the employees cussing at the two of you. Dazai couldn't be happier and content spending the remainder of his existence with you like this.
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mcflymemes · 6 months ago
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BARBIE (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
i'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!
i've never seen this kind of malfunction.
am i being too technical?
if you ask me, you're responsible for this, too.
to be honest, when i found out the patriarchy wasn't just about horses, i lost interest.
i just gave you a choice so you could feel like you're in control!
how will i get back?
this happened once before.
i just don't want to leave!
you'll be such a hero to them!
i feel appreciated but not ogled.
i hate it when people think. i'm so bored.
the faster i figure this out, the faster we get home.
i'm not pretty anymore!
humans have only one ending. ideas live forever.
you're so beautiful.
how come you're so amazing!
i worked very hard, so... i deserve it!
you're the voice of a generation.
this makes me emotional, and i'm expressing it.
i got us both ice creams!
i think you have that the wrong way around.
how much of that did you see?
let's get you up on your feet.
you should heal up in no time.
this night is just perfect!
please call my mother.
i thought i might stay over tonight.
does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her?
i'm great at doing stuff.
it is literally impossible to be a woman.
we always have to be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.
never forget that the system is rigged.
find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.
it's too hard!
i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself in knots so that people will like us.
i was arrested for tax evasion.
i smell like basement.
what are you doing here?
did you bring your rollerblades?
i literally go nowhere without them!
do you guys ever think about dying?
i'll play the guitar at you.
yeah, i'm... confused about that.
it's like i've been in a dream where i was really invested in the zack snyder cut of "justice league."
can i talk to a doctor?
i need a clicky pen.
somebody get security.
i've never seen the godfather.
every night is a boy's night.
i just don't know who i am without you.
i only exist within the warmth of your gaze.
i'm just a little blond guy who can't do flips.
you guys aren't doing patriarchy very well.
men hate women and women hate women. it's the one thing we can all agree on.
you don't have your license.
you can be brainwashed, or you can be ugly. there's nothing in between.
she's not dying, she's just having an existential crisis.
i'm sensing some kind of ententre here... and it appears to be double.
who am i to burst their bubble?
you use your imagination!
you can ask me any question you want.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago
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Making out with Jeremiah at the house party plz! His kisses are 🥵
Request: Can you do something inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s new song? For Jeremiah
Should I do more smut? Is this allowed for Jeremiah of is his character too young?
Warnings: smut but not really
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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You hadn’t heard from Jeremiah in a couple of months, but when you received a text from Belly inviting all the girls from last year’s debutante ball to a massive party, a mischievous grin curled on your lips and you jumped in the shower, knowing he would be there.
‘’Jeremiah?’’ Nicole repeated, looking in her makeup bag for her mascara.
Dara drew her eyebrows, pausing her snooping through your perfume collection. ‘’Didn’t the two of you break up in December?’’ 
The two of you were done and through, having called it off right before winter break, but everytime you came across a picture of Jeremiah on social media, your brain was mush again and you had to fight the urge to send him a text. 
You came out of the bathroom in a second dress, and sighed at your friends. ‘’Yes, I know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect? I only want us to be friends,’’ you explained to them, holding back a laugh. 
That was the biggest lie you ever said. 
You and Jeremiah could never be just friends. The sexual attraction between you two was too strong. 
‘’Is that why your boobs are all out? So you and Jeremiah can be friends again?’’ Dara asked, a knowing look on her face. 
The party was already going when you and the girls arrived. The disco lights were flashing all through the living room and kitchen, creating a true 80s vibe. What stood out the most was the absence of furniture, replaced by a few inflatable chairs. 
You got drinks, then found Marisa, who was finally back to Cousins with tons of gossip coming from Gigi and her upcoming documentary. What was happening to her was horrible, but you were glad she wasn’t there this summer. She won’t be all over Jeremiah.
‘’Hi!’’ Belly greeted with a happy grin, rollerblading over to you with a bottle of alcohol in her hand. ‘’I’m so happy you all came.’’ She poured some in Dara’s cup, acting like last summer’s drama didn’t happen. 
‘’Have you seen Jeremiah?’’ you asked her, failing to spot him through the crowd.
Beside you, Nicole shook her head, knowing exactly how the night was going to end — you and him in his sheets.
Belly didn’t really know where he was, but she said she last saw him doing shots in the kitchen…so that’s exactly where you went. 
He wasn't in the kitchen though. The shots he had down had moved him to the living room and was dancing with some friends, being the life of the party as always. A smile tugged on your lips, getting flashes of last year's mischiefs at the debutante dance lessons. Paige had been so mad when he turned her ballroom dance lessons into a nightclub during her short absence.  
You slipped between him and his friends, catching Jeremiah by surprise by joining his moves. He grinned when seeing you, dancing turning into teasing until the song was over.
 His arm slipped around you as he led you away from the dance area, getting to a less busy place to talk. 
‘’I didn't know you were in Cousins.’’ 
‘’You didn't ask,’’ you returned, looking up at him, getting lost in his piercing blue eyes while ghosting your hand on his arm. 
Jeremiah glanced down at your hand, but didn't stop you. He was burning for your touch.
‘’All my friends have been saying that seeing you tonight is a bad idea.’’
Without breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow. ‘’Is it?’’ 
And just like that, you grabbed the back of his neck and crashed your mouth against his, satisfying the craving you’ve had since you and him broke up. You’ve kissed other guys after the breakup, but no one kissed you the way Jeremiah did. He was kissing you like he was drowning and you were the air. It was passionate and intense — and a little rough.
His hands went to your waist by habit, pulling you closer to him so your bodies were flush together, then wandered higher, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. You let him guide the kiss, tangling your fingers in his blond curls, and almost moaned embarrassingly when you felt Jeremiah’s hand wrapping around your throat in a way that made your head spin and legs feel like jelly. 
How did he do that with just a kiss?
You grabbed at his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body underneath the thin fabric, wishing it was off. But you were in the middle of a party with tons of people around.
Out of breath, you pulled back, but Jeremiah wasn’t done. He kissed up the underside of your chin and down your neck, then went back to your lips. 
‘’Maybe we should take this upstairs,’’ you suggested, feeling your nipples harden through your shirt, begging to be touched and kissed by Jeremiah. 
He nodded and pulled back, taking your hand and leading you to his bedroom. Unlike the last time, there was no furniture besides a sleeping bag and a blow up chair, and a backpack overspilling with all the stuff he brought for the trip. 
‘’Eh, sorry about that…’’ Jeremiah rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed and feeling like a complete ass for not having anything better than the floor to offer. 
You shook your head. ‘’It’s fine,’’ you assured. ‘’This will do.’’ You pushed Jeremiah down on the blow up chair and climbed over him, grinding down on him as you did, feeling him stiffen in his shorts.
To speed things up, you pulled your shirt off and threw it on the floor. You had not bothered with a bra, which Jeremiah was very pleased about. 
His fingers danced up your stomach, along your ribs to your breasts. ‘’I missed this. I missed you.’’ He rolled your left nipple between his thumb and finger as he kissed and nipped along your jaw and down your neck before claiming your other nipple with his lips. 
Your back arched as you moaned his name, pleasure filling your body and pooling in your panties. You missed this too.
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perksofbeingpoet · 6 months ago
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☆ WHAT THE POETS' HOBBIES WOULD BE (IF THEY HAD NORMAL LIVES AND FREE TIME) ☆
MEEKS: something tells me meeks would be really into rollerblading or skating? idk i can really picture him as a skater boy, and i can see pittsie coming with him to try it out! meeks would be very chill about it, not trying to learn the coolest tricks or something, BUT he'd totally bring his skateboard everywhere and the poets would tease him about it like oh hey mr cool, do you skateboard? that's so cool i'm SWOONING, good that you brought it to the theatre in case there's a skateboarding emergency
PITTS: photography/videography. if he lived today, pittsie would totally be a youtuber, but i can see him always taking pictures or even "vlogging" in the canon era, too! he just enjoys capturing these memories, and at the end of every year, he'd do a sort of "best of this year" with the poets- i also see him as a big plant dad, not sure if he'd do it in the 60s though? but i can picture pittsie having several little succulents. oh and baking/cooking!! meeks always snacks on his stuff before it's ready and it drives pittsie insane
TODD: i know everyone's convinced todd would be into crocheting, but i honestly don't really see it? no hate whatsoever, i get where people get the idea but to be honest i think crocheting would make todd frustrated/anxious. this boy needs movement, something to do so his mind shuts up, and i think that's swimming. i honestly think todd would be a really dedicated swimmer, maybe to the point where it gets a bit unhealthy because he just throws himself into it to turn his thoughts off?
CHARLIE: yes this one is kinda obvious but charlie would totally pursue music if he had the time and means- he seems so passionate when he plays the saxophone, it's one of the few scenes where we get to see him not joking around, dismissing things with a quip and smirk, but earnestly enjoying something. charlie wouldn't only play, I totally picture him going to jazz clubs and loving to dance there and chat up girls. oh he'd also play video games as soon as they're available!
KNOX: i've mentioned this before but knox would 2000% learn how to play the guitar, and then proceed to play it at dps meetings and with chris. i know it sounds super douchy but honestly, i think knox wouldn't even notice that it comes off as annoying sometimes? he just really enjoys playing the guitar and wants to share that with others. also seems like someone who'd love running, i can see him being one of those people who go on 1 hour jogs in the morning :') Oh and drawing! But he'd be quite shy about it.
NEIL: this is so hard for some reason? 😭 i mean obviously he'd act, and probably go to the theatre quite often on top of that- i also think neil would like cycling, but other than that it's pretty difficult for me to think of what his hobbies would be- i kinda see him as just hanging out with friends a lot and going to parks etc. to chill when he's not at rehearsal. feel free to share your ideas if you have some!
CAMERON: dancing. he's SO ashamed of it and only does it in the comfort of his own room, but if cameron could do anything he wanted, i think he'd do ballet? HELP GUYS I DON'T KNOW WHY BUT I FEEL SO SURE ABOUT THIS, CAMERON IS PRETTY MUCH BILLY ELLIOT IN MY MIND BUT HE NEVER GETS TO PURSUE BALLET/DANCING COS HE LIVES IN A TIME AND SOCIETY THAT DOESN'T ALLOW THAT?? WHY IS THIS SO CANON TO ME???? also crosswords.
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scribble-dribble-writes · 1 year ago
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Plastic heart - (3)
<<<Prev Next>>>
---
Ken's dealing with some feelings too 🥺
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“So what are the symptoms?”, weird Barbie questioned and you were trying not to stare at the markings on her face or the asymmetrical manner in which her hair was cut.
“Burnt food, loss of appetite and motivation. Also this pain in my chest.”, you stated your common issues.
“How about dizziness?”, she asked further tapping a pen against a clipboard as she narrowed her eyes at you.
You didn’t get nauseous often but that nervous sensation was only ever when Ken was around.
“Not often.”, you contemplated.
“No, does it happen when a Ken is around?”, she asked and you couldn’t mask your surprise.
“Ah I know what you’ve got.”, she eased and it got you to feel comfortable too. She could give you a cure and everything would go back to being normal.
“But only time can fix it though.”, she shrugged her  shoulder but it only stirred up confusion within you. Nothing took too long to heal here in barbieland. In fact nothing broke in the first place.
“You’re heartbroken.”, she turned to you with her diagnosis. You didn’t believe her and so huffed a laugh, no wonder she was the odd one out.
“That can’t be it.”, you said confidently folding your arms.
“Fine. When does your day feel the best?”, she asked and as you thought back to certain moments of the day, you come only think of the moments he smiled at you.
“Ok, different question.”, she shifted her stance once she knew you hadn’t answered the first one.
“Where do feel at ease?”, she asked and the answer was instant.
“The beach.”, you lit up just thinking of the warm sand and salty air.
“Why?”, she asked and as the question settled it was as though your mind was not your own. Because all you could think of was him, his surf board, his platinum blonde hair being ruffled by the breeze, the smell of sea salt on him as his skin gleamed under the sun but as the other facts poured in, his eagerness to do foolish things just so he could impress Barbie, him passing you by at every turn, your head began to feel heavy.
It all fell into place now. You were heartbroken. Somehow in the high of it, this pain had found it’s way in.
“Unusual though, no Barbie worries about a Ken. He’s just another accessory.”, she turned away but it sparked an anger within you.
“How could you say that?”, you got up.
“Ken is so much more than that.”, you pressed your fingers on your forehead.
“I’m just stating facts.”, she said calmly while digging around for something.
But the facts seemed wrong. He wasn’t just an add on, he was just overlooked. Although many wouldn't agree, that was how you saw it, I'm every great even, he was left out.
“Alright, so you’ve got two options.”, she had a pair of rollerblades in one hand and in the other a heart shaped box of chocolates.
“Why don't you try the first one? Tell him how you feel.”, she gave you the chocolate box and patted your arm but somehow it was the worst possible solution.
“He’s a Ken. He’s bound to fall in love with you.”, she clicked her tongue and all you could feel was panic.
“What’s the second option?”, you asked and she pursed her lips.
“He’s in love with someone else.”, you argued.
“Well in that case –
But she was interrupted when you could hear the sound of heels clicking against the tiles on the stairs.
You turn to see stereotypical Barbie walk in, her complexion a little pale and her skin not so glossy under this light.
“Two Barbies in a day. That’s a record.”, weird Barbie commented as she moved to inspect her and you knew that you had to do your best effort with the first option because now that she was here, she couldn’t know why you were here to. So you gave her a smile and she returned it as you turned to leave. Thanking weird Barbie for her support, you walked down those stairs, clutching onto those box of chocolates like they were your cure.
*
Any outfit you had didn’t feel like the best, the nervousness was eating you away as you took a stroll down the streets near dream house. You knew where he would be, if he wasn’t on the beach, then he was sitting out by the steps of her house waiting to catch a glimpse of her.
And as you had predicted, he was there. Sitting in the middle, his long legs stretched out beneath the twilight sky as he fiddled with his thumbs as though he was bored. But the closer you approached, the quicker you spotted the forlorn expression on his face.
“You look a bit sad this evening.”, you stated, it got him to look up and you stopped to smooth down your skirt, knowing why you were here.
“Do I?”, he asked with confusion drenching the tone of his voice. You took a seat next to him but he looked like he was preoccupied with his thoughts.
“I don’t know why.”, he shook his head as he was slowly slipping back into his innocent and cheerful personality.
“Does being sad mess up your hair or crinkle your shirt?”, he turned to you suddenly, with worry etched in his eyes.
“I don’t think it does.”, you couldn’t help but smile because you knew nothing more than him when it came to feelings.
“Close call.”, he gave a low whistle as he set his already combed hair into place.
“I need to be perfect.”, he mumbled, his focus now on fixing his shirt.
And you thought that maybe this was the best time. To tell him that he didn’t have to be.
You pushed the chocolate box to him. Your actions getting his attention to flit back to you.
“You are perfect.”, you said not feeling strong enough to catch his gaze.
“and I like you as you are.”, you looked up at him only to see that his eyes were boring into yours, his elegant face wrinkling at the edges when various emotions flickered across his face. When it finally settled to one.
“But I’m not yours.”, he said quickly with an indifference but as a second passed his brows furrowed together and for the first time, Ken was angry.
“I’m not yours to like.”, he furrowed his brows and there wasn’t a particular moment you could point out but somewhere between hearing him say those words and the anger in his voice, it felt as though your heart had plummeted into the unknown depths of emptiness. The pain wasn’t just in your chest anymore. It was everywhere.
Barbie was heard talking to her friends a few feet away as she was approaching her house and all the bitterness on his face vanished as he turned to her.
“I have to leave to the real world.”, you could hear her and as your gaze followed Ken, you watched as the same hurt you felt, mirrored on his face. He had forgotten all about you and you just wanted to stay here, frozen forever.
“You’re leaving?”, he jogged up to her, you took the chocolate box used this diversion to walk away till the curb.
Once in the clear, you began to run, you wanted to leave everything behind.
---
Tags:
@ateliefloresdaprimavera @meowkid1000
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cerebralisis · 5 months ago
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Has Taylor been drawing connections to Barbie’s journey from Barbieland into the real world?
I rewatched Barbie a few days ago after streaming the Amsterdam N3 show and found some interesting parallels, particularly the scene where Barbie and Ken go through the transportation sequence.
Like Barbie and Ken, Taylor and Travis started their journey by setting off in the getaway car (a rather loud hint at how this whole thing is gonna end). Since then, Taylor has played Getaway Car twice - once in Melbourne mashed up with August and The Other Side of the Door, and again in Edinburgh mashed up with The Bolter - three more songs that reference cars.
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Next, Barbie and Ken ride in the boat. I’m sure by now that most of us have seen the Taylor-Travis pap-walk on their way to a boat ride - with the chessboard sweater and the not-so-subtle AO3 shot in the background making everyone question if this is just a fanfic. Taylor also played the “murder mashup” which includes a song referencing a boating license and another song used in a movie where they boat through the marshes of North Carolina.
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From the boat, Barbie and Ken move onto the rocket ship. This is substantially more challenging for them to recreate, but I did notice that there were a hefty amount of spaceship/rocket references throughout June. Most notably: a new merch drop featuring the Down Bad spaceship and lyrics; a TikTok from Ice Spice where she’s reading the WSJ issue featuring Karlie Kloss as a “Rocket Woman” that’s “suiting up at Spacex;” Kam yelling out “bolt ya rocket” during WANEGBT; and a timely insta post from Travis promoting the Accelerator Rocket Pop energy drink (while wearing a Ken wig?)
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After that, Barbie and Ken ride bikes through a scene set with windmills in the background, which heavily implies the Netherlands. This is what caught my attention because - while Taylor was in the Netherlands for Amsterdam N3 - she sang imgonnagetyouback, which of course has the line about smashing up your bike. She then sits down at the piano and says “I mentioned bikes, and man do you love bikes in Amsterdam! You just see a bike rack with 3,000 bikes on it.” Then, Travis was papped riding a bike out in Amsterdam. All of this happened only a week after Travis told us on his podcast that he suggested riding out on stage on one of the Blank Space bikes (before Taylor came up with the idea to make him a circus handler instead).
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Next in the sequence are a camper, snowmobile, and rollerblades, so we will have to keep an eye out and see if there are any related hints.
It wouldn’t be the first Barbie reference that Taylor has made. In addition to all her Ken lyrics, I’m convinced that Peter references the Barbie movie with the line: “I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’ve learned.” To me this feels a lot like Barbie choosing the Birkenstock over the high heel so she can go to the real world and learn the secrets of the universe. Especially when contrasted with “in stilettos for miles” when Taylor is lamenting her misery during I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, as if she’s stuck in Barbieland.
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What do you think? Am I just cherry-picking or does the transportation sequence seem like an intentional countdown? Given the themes of the Barbie movie, the connections are hard to miss.
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angelofthenight · 11 months ago
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Kenchanted Pt.1
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(Ken x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Lost in the chaotic and gritty human world, you come to Ken’s rescue. He’s determined to find his one true love who is also lost in the human world, Barbie, and despite your cynical and pessimistic view of “true love”, you help. You and Ken’s views of life and love are constantly clashing and arguments constantly follow. Yet the more time you spend together, you both begin to fall in love with the epitome of everything you once disagreed with. But you are both promised to others and you are from two different worlds, pink and grey.
Warnings: Swearing, V brief harassment (nothing intense), YN thinks Ken is mentally ill/disturbed, Mentions of police
( Super special thanks for my pookie mutual @detectiveapparatiagreen for proofreading for triggers💖 )
Word Count: 3.5k
Tropes Used: Grumpy x Sunshine, She fell first/He fell harder, Slow burn, Unexpected/Unintentional pining, Fantasy vs Reality
( This is based off the Disney movie Enchanted so it’s kinda like an AU, with a touch of Warm Bodies and Aquamarine. Also I named YN’s boyfriend after Oppenheimer in honor of Barbenheimer but I just realized that a Robert is in Enchanted too😭. Also this is steering off a bit from canon in the Barbie movie to cater more to Enchanted’s storyline so Ken doesn’t become a typical man/antagonist.
And lastly YN is basically Ken’s opposite personality-wise and clothing color palette-wise, I typically always have all my YN’s fashion style ambiguous in my stories unless it’s a direct effect to the story so that’s why I’m just forewarning )
Table of Contents
(R/n) = Roommates name
“God, learn to have a little fun, bitch!”
You flipped out your middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away without looking back at the man near the bar. Despite your platant rejections and constant explanations that you were about to leave the club, the man that approached you with sexual intentions still ran his mouth on how you should let him buy you a drink. You endlessly declined and when he began to grow impatient and rude that’s when you told him off and marched off to find your roommate, (R/n), in the crowd who had gone to retrieve your coats.
The music thrusted into your eardrums and rumbled your brain so intensely you wondered if you’d be able to get away with calling off work the next morning. You leaned against a wall to take off your heels, leaving your feet in just your pantyhose as (R/n) reunited with you holding both hers and your own jacket in her arms. She laid your jacket over your shoulders and you instantly huddled it around your short dress to prepare to step into the breezy, rainy night.
“Of course the night we finally have the energy to go clubbing is the night we have work in the early morning.” (R/n) chuckled into your ear as the two of you left through the doors in giggles. Once out into the storming outdoors, (R/n) and you stood by a wall under some shade as she began to order an uber through her phone to get you guys back home. You yawned as you people watched while you waited for her to order, letting your eyes wander and linger on the LA characters that either rushed past you with jackets over their head or walking with umbrellas.
Some you could assume were clubbing like you, some ran to catch cabs, some looked to be just getting out of work. Each person that crossed your line of vision were all different and unique… but there was one specific individual that made you do a double-take: the bleach blond man wearing rollerblades and blindingly bright neon that stood out in the dark night.
He was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk getting drenched by the rain with his head in his hands, seemingly sobbing dramatically. You frowned in concern and curiosity. You faintly nudged your friend. “Is that guy okay?” Your friend looked up at you with confusion until she looked over to where your eyes were locked. She wasn’t as worried as you and simply brushed him off. “Huh? Oh… Just leave him to it.”
That offered no apathy to cease your attention on the bold man. You just couldn’t brush him off no matter how hard you tried, it was like you were feeling this magnetic pull towards him. “I’m just gonna go check on him.” You told your friend as you stepped into the thundering storm with your hand acting as a shield above your eyes to prevent rain hitting them, and began walking towards the perfectly tanned stranger.
You stopped once you were right next to him, the cold droplets of water quickly dampening your styled hair. “Hey. Are you alright?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you over the rain.
The bleach blond thrashed his face out of his hands to look up at you with tears endlessly flooding out of his blue eyes and his lips trembling. “No! I am not alright!” He loudly wailed out. “Barbie got arrested! And they wouldn’t take me with her! I tried to follow them but then I got lost in this humongous place! But while I was wandering I discovered that men on horses rule this world and at first that seemed so awesome but I still couldn’t even do anything because I need a bunch of papers to do stuff! And even though I am a man, people are still not being very nice to me!”
He already lost you a while ago with his fast yet confusing words which prompted you to stare blankly, but his last complaint resonated with you enough to erupt a chuckle from you. “Yeah, well, welcome to LA.”
The man halted his dramatic crying to stare at you with his watering eyes lighting up. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a sniffle and a grateful tone of voice. Your smile twitched down and your brows furrowed at him.
“And I lost my visor cap! And now I am leaking from my eyes!” He suddenly exclaimed as he touched his wet cheeks. “But the worst part of it all is…” he reached up to grip onto his soaking wet blond locks, “my hair is WET! Why is the sky sprinkling water and making my hair flat and squishy?!” He yelled and physically jumped and yelped like a child when lightning cracked in the sky.
You didn’t mean to just stare blankly stare at him with your mouth slightly open and your eyebrows slightly furrowed, but you just didn’t know how to react to how this man, who you were now assuming wasn’t right in the head, was acting. “You mean the rain?” You finally asked with multiple confused blinks.
The man harshly sniffled again. “Well, I HATE the rain!” He yelled while glaring up at the sky like he now had a vengeful grudge against it.
You kneeled down next to him to be at eye-level. “Do you have your phone with you? Or any money?” The man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve never owned a phone.” He looked back over to you, the rain dripping down his face washing his tears away. “And what would I need money for?”
You blinked, dumbfounded in its rawest form. You just stared at him again with a complete loss for words at his question. You looked him up and down, taking in every neon detail on his skater outfit. You probably looked like you were seeing an alien for the first time. “…Do you need me to call somebody for you?”
He vaguely chuckled with a small smile as he looked at you like you were the weird one. “I don't think they'd hear you from here.” Again, your jaw went slack at your loss for words; intense confusion baffling you. “What?”
You glanced around, trying to find some sort of camera crew. Your eyes returned to the blond man who cradled his knees to his chest and reached up to touch his wet hair. He was pouting and wearing the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You needed to help this poor, troubled guy.
“What’s your name?” He took his hand out of his hair and released his knees, letting his legs fall straight as he looked at his neon strain roller blades. “Ken.” “No, like, what’s your full name?” You added. He tore his eyes off his feet to look back at you. “Kenneth or And Ken.”
You forced an awkward laugh and smile as you tried to hide how you were beginning to lose your patience. “No, what’s your last name?” Ken gave you another weird look. “How many names do you people have?”
Your frown began to deepen as your annoyance began to grow visible in your features. “…So it’s just Ken?” You asked, a slight snap to your voice. “Well it’s usually Barbie and Ken.” Ken explained with a pep to his own voice. Your brows crinkled, “You keep mentioning Barbie. Like the doll? Are you named after Barbie’s boyfriend Ken or something?”
Ken shook his head with a toothy smile. “No, I am Ken.”
‘This guy must have escaped from the ward.’ You mentally noted. “Where exactly are you from, Ken?” You asked, hoping to get a solid enough answer to help you navigate where he needs to get to.
“Barbieland.” Ken answered without hesitation, leaving you once again baffled. A loud thunderclap snapped you back into your senses as the rain began to pick up. You looked over your shoulder at (R/n) who pointed at her phone, trying to tell you the uber was about to pull up. You looked back to Ken who returned to sadly staring at his rollerblades and clutching his sopping wet hair.
You pursed your lips together, deep in debating thought, until you let out a groaning sigh. You rose to your feet and draped your jacket over Ken’s head and shoulders. He looked up at you with surprise and opened his mouth to say something but you strictly cut him off. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” You instructed him before rushing over to your dry friend.
“Okay, so Boris will be picking us up in a gray Toyota and I’ll just request what you owe me on Paypal-” “I think we should take him with us.” You cut (R/n) off as she watched the tracking map on Uber, her eyes snapping up towards you. She glanced over at Ken getting pretty comfortable in your jacket on the sidewalk curb before looking back at you with an eyebrow raise.
“(Y/n), what?” Now she was the baffled one looking at an alien over how out-of-character your request was. However, a smirk stretched across her lips. “Usually I’m the one wanting to bring home strange men at night.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a glare. “It’s not like that.” You glimpsed over your shoulder at Ken.
“That guy is the farthest thing from my type as you can get.”
You turned back to (R/n). “And you know I would never do that to Rob.”
(R/n) visibly cringed and shut her eyes, holding her hand up to stop you. “Ew, I’ve told you before I don’t like to hear that guys name on girls night.” You slapped her hand out of your face. “We’re not gonna have this argument again right now.” You grumbled, knowing how passionate (R/n) was about verbalizing her distaste for your boyfriend Rob. She shook her head. “We’re not because you didn’t say his name.”
You sighed, dismissing that whole rift in the conversation. “I just can’t leave him like this. He’s lost and confused and will get sick in this rain.” You explained to your roommate who didn’t seem to even mind. “As long as I don’t have to give up my room or share my morning waffles and we lock our bedrooms. And if he ends up being a thief or murderer or rap-” You cut her off.
“He’s not staying the night. I just wanna get him out of the rain and send him back to whatever mental institution he came from. He is not staying the night.” You stated with a stern expression. He’d be out of your apartment quicker than he got there. It’s not that you didn’t have room for a guest, other than prioritizing you and your friends safety, you just didn’t want to take care of this crazy man any more than you had to.
After (R/n) told you you’d be taking the heavier load on the overall cost, you hurried back over to Ken who was still wrapped up comfortably in your jacket. You planted your hand softly on his shoulder, grabbing his attention rather quickly. “Come on, Ken. You can get dry at my place and we’ll try and get you home.”
Ken’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and tried to stumble up to his feet due to his rollerblades before you grabbed his muscular arm to help him up safely. You pushed away the observation of how tall he actually was when he stood up to focus more on wheeling him over to the Uber (R/n) was waving you over to.
~
Ken skated circles around you and (R/n) as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building as he talked your ear off. “-and then we had to ride a snowmobile through the snow, which was very cold and not good for my hair. And then that’s when we rollerbladed into Venice Beach. Barbie did not like your world by the way, like within the first second we got there her mood instantly bummed out. And then-”
As soon as you got him seated in the car, he instantly began telling you how he got to that sidewalk curb that somehow involved his whole life story. You tuned him out about halfway through, you just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling you; Barbieland, Barbie, disco parties, Kens, Barbies, beaching, Mattel, a portal, Barbie’s flat feet, horses.
It was crazy to you. His story, his words, his personality, his clothes, quite literally everything about him. You nearly began to regret picking up just another LA nutjob on the street.
“-and now I’m here with you tired looking ladies in this kinda ugly, gloomy building. They should paint these walls a brighter color. Like pink! Or blue!” Ken joyfully said with his wide smile never faltering as he continued to skate down the halls. His upbeat energy was beginning to sicken you.
He started to skate backwards to continue talking into your annoyed face. “But don’t worry, I'm positive that Barbie is already out of jail and looking for me. No doubt by morning she'll come and pick me up and we’ll go home and the two of us will finally kiss under the stars.”
A snigger finally cracked out of you. “Right.” From the snippets of his story you paid attention to, it didn’t sound like this Barbie girl he kept talking about was all that interested in him. You wanted to press on about that but knew you’d just be met with blind stupidity.
(R/n) seemed to be having the opposite reactions and opinions from you as all she did was humor his story and laugh at his jokes. What was entertaining for her was agitating for you. “Well all I can do for you is let you in for a minute so you can dry off.” You asserted as you neared your apartment door.
“Thank you!” Ken chirped out, still clinging to your jacket that was still wrapped around him. “So if she’s (R/n), what’s your name? You never gave me it.” You told him your name and he repeated it out loud, testing it in different voice tones which annoyed you even more. ‘I just need to last another hour or two and then he’s out of my life and out of my sight’ you kept telling yourself to keep your composure.
You finally reached your front door and began to fish out your keys from your purse. You rustled through your stuff and held back your exhausted groan, digging through to find them. Ken’s vibrant neon color palette still blinded your peripheral vision. You fleetingly glanced over to him, “What is it with this outfit of yours anyways?”
Ken looked down at his clothes with a confident smile and placed his hands on his hips. “You like it?” Your brows furrowed together. “No, it's just… I thought you said you didn’t have any money.” “I don’t. Clothes just come to me.” Ken said simply as you finally found your keys.
“Like people give you clothes or you design them?” (R/n) questioned. “No, clothes literally just come to me.” Ken stated with that bright grin still intact with his lips.
You stared at him with that ‘are you serious’ expression. “Why don't we see about getting you a car.” You quickly said before you unlocked your front door.
~
(R/n) approached you in a fit of giggles while you sat at your dining room table scanning over a map for places to drop Ken off. She grasped onto your tense shoulders as she tried to regain a steady breath after her stomach-hurting laughter from something Ken had previously told her.
“C’mon, (Y/n). Can’t he sleep here tonight?” She asked you with a pleading smile. You didn’t spare her a glance and shook your head like a strict mother, your eyes still remaining on the map. “No way.”
(R/n) sighed in disappointment and was about to go back over to the couch where Ken was sitting all wrapped up in towels until she caught the sight of him leaning all the way back into the couch. His eyes blissfully closed and his mouth open enough for a vague snore.
“Um, (Y/n). He looks really tired.” She whispered down to you. Your eyes shot up to see the couch from where you were sitting to witness Ken already fast asleep. “What? Oh, no. That's not acceptable.” You stood up, the intention of physically hurling him off your couch flaring your imagination.
“Are you really gonna make him go?” (R/n) asked sadly with a pout. You turned to her with a glare. Of course you had to be the only sensible one, taking on responsibility. Sometimes you felt like the only adult in a world full of children, the only one with a stable head on their shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll handle this.” You asserted.
(R/n) delicately grabbed your arm before you could march over to him. “He’s so funny though, and he seems pretty harmless.” You sighed and turned to her with a softer tone in your expression and eyes. “(R/n), he is a seriously confused and troubled man who's fallen into our laps. All I want to do is get him home.” You explained as plainly as you could.
“So he’s not gonna stay?” (R/n) asked again but put on a brighter smile to try to convince you. “No.” You harshly deadpanned. “Now go to bed.” She huffed but turned on her heels anyway in pursuit of her room.
Once you heard the closing of her door, you made your way over to the snoozing psychopath. With your hands on your hips, you glared down at him as if trying to telepathically make him wake up. You reached down to his arm, about to violently shake him awake, but your fingers halted and hovered over his toned bicep.
You glanced up to his face as you were frozen, mindlessly taking the time to get a proper look at his face for the first time. You nearly couldn’t mentally deny that when he wasn’t rabidly sobbing or babbling his mouth off, he was actually very beautiful. The most beautiful guy you’ve ever actually seen, almost like he was fake. He was too physically perfect.
You snapped yourself out of your admiring daze, almost not believing you got distracted with physical attraction. You deepened your frown and finally pushed your hand against his arm, a weak attempt to wake Mr Sleeping Beauty. You pushed one more time to find he was still fast asleep. You gruffly sighed and pulled out your phone, clicking into the Uber app.
You were just going to send him to the nearest police station, he’ll be the cops’ problem now and Ken can tell them all about his Barbie life. However, before you could hit the final button to get the car your eyes glanced up to Ken once more. Except this time you couldn’t look away as he subconsciously snuggled in the towels wrapped around him.
‘Just push the damn button and get him out of here’ is what you kept yelling at yourself. So why couldn’t you do it? Of course right when it came down to it, you felt yourself going soft for this lunatic… with very blue eyes and an innocent kind of sweet smile. Despite his prettiness and despite his aggravating immaturity, you still felt this gravitational pull towards this strange man.
You sighed and turned off your phone, ruthlessly cursing yourself at your failure to get rid of him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to kick him out, something you knew you were going to regret when he woke up and began talking non-stop again. Still, you found yourself gently laying him properly down across the couch on the pillow and replacing the damp towels with a blanket.
You denied your own small smile at his sleeping form as you left for your bedroom. You hadn’t thought about Barbie dolls in a very long time, but all of his Barbie talk made you sit in your bed in silence for a few minutes. You wished you still had your Barbie dolls with you instead of them sitting in a box in your parents basement. You just wanted to at least look at your favorite childhood toy.
Not your Ken doll though.
You buried him three feet underground in your backyard when playing funeral with your Barbie dolls and forgot he was still down there.
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late-draft · 5 months ago
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Hello! I just saw your posts about the Last Air Keyholder AU and—dear Agni!
Listen, this is beautiful. This is awestriking. This is *chef kiss*. I've always loved the initial sci-fi designs for ATLA, so it's incredible that someone's using them as a base/inspiration for an AU.
Also—your unapologetic, deliberate use of tropes? This is something extremely rare to see in narrative (tropes being intentionally used as a device) and I can't wait to see what shape they take here. Count me in!
I love this AU so far and have so many questions!
What is the vibe for the Fire Nation here? The vibe for the cities, the architecture, the worldbuilding, the culture—things like that. From the brief description we got, some parts of your world reminded me of Neo Tokyo from Akira, but maybe that's not what you're going for.
According to your previous sketch (and my inner romantic); is ZK going to happen in this AU? How do you see a possible relationship between them developing here?
Are you planning on adapting major canon plot points moving forward?
I have, like I said earlier, a lot of questions about this! But I don't want to smother you so this is all I'll ask for now. Can't wait to see what you show us next.
Have a nice day!
Hello! Thank you!! Yess a good usage of tropes is like running into a song you love that you heard many times, and still you crank the volume up! The fandom is like 20 years old, is it possible that not much stuff has been made for the sci-fi idea?
You're absolutely right, I gotta lean onto the king of megacities Neo Tokyo from Akira, but I wouldn't have the aesthetic be completely identical to it. There's mystical aspects in this AU too, and here's my initial attempt to throw together a fast vertical slice.
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Light conditions are really important in a setting and in this AU I'd have a lot of the runtime happening during dawn or sunset. There's an aura of orange light floating in but very rarely direct sun rays due to the high buildings. There should however, be lots of traffic lights of all kinds. I'm already immersed in quite a few projects that feature megacities, but each one has a different flavour and I'd be overjoyed if I manage to correctly convey each one. In this ATLA AU, there's no specific time period from IRL that would be used as a reference. All nations are grouped and mixed similar to Republic City from LoK, but this AU is noticeably way more sci-fi than the 1920s LoK. There's a large focus on all kinds of transportation and roads/railways that accompany them. Highrise buildings are specifically Fire Nation in design and ownership (usually). Lower levels have a mix of everything but they do use leftover materials and mostly cement and metal. Ground and below ground levels are brick and a maze of pipes, through which strange disused cables snake. Sometimes they tangle in great masses…
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I'm certain important characters from canon will appear, but I'm definitely not gonna follow the canon plotline strictly. Stuff like "Well there was a village being attacked by Hei Bai, so this AU has to have a village being attacked by Hei Bai…" nothing like that. I'm taking way more freedom in this AU to ensure that characters go through specific things that would be very useful to them and which allow the natural usage of respectively fitting tropes. But I'm not treating this AU as exclusively mine and nobody else's, so anyone can give suggestions! (please give suggestions!!)
Katara and Zuko first meet "racing on the opposite sides" of Aang. From starting out as Katara on her bike assisting the Avatar during chases while the banished prince is attempting to capture him, they sort of move into situations where they race each other. Zuko figures out that Katara is a major reason why all of his attempts thus far failed so he tries to change strategies and trip up Katara in whatever non-harmful way he can imagine. He's convinced, he must demonstrate, that her speed on a bike is not unreachable to him on his rollerblades. And if he shows off a couple of tricks along the way, so be it. :)
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More stuff coming up
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southeastasianists · 2 months ago
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When my helper of 27 years left to go back home to Jakarta, we often spoke over the phone about seeing each other again. I had no idea it would end this way—me standing over her grave, looking down at the ground of what remained of her, my face streaming with tears. 
The grave is uncared for. Trashed and forgotten. And this was after I had sent over money to her family to make it “good,” as Indonesians would say. But nothing here looks good. 
As I dug my hands into the ground, yanking out weeds and picking up plastic bottles and trash, I never felt lonelier in my grief.
To the world, she’s my maid. But to me, she’s a mother.
In many countries in Southeast Asia like Singapore, Indonesia or the Philippines, we often hire helpers—or a maid as some would deign to call them—to care for our children. 
The term ‘maid’ holds cultural connotations of colonialism. We hope that using the more palatable term ‘helper’ offers a clinical removal of such unsavoury overtones. We think changing the vocabulary may help us feel better about the exploitation of labour.
In truth, the word ‘helper’ wears a cloak of progressiveness without changing anything. They ‘help’ us. We pay them.
It’s all smoke and mirrors for a transaction that hasn’t changed in centuries.
I personally never thought of the word ‘maid’ as derogatory. To me, a maid is someone who worked alongside my mom to raise me.
Someone I loved, who, when I was a kid, fed me and took care of me when I fell off my rollerblades and told me it was all going to be okay when I had my first teenage heartbreak. She taught me how to be resilient and strong and did all the dirty work my parents were unwilling to do when caring for me.
I sat and sobbed over the barren ground where she was buried. All I could think of was how this force of a woman was now dust in this cracked, dry, orange land.
How could I have left her like that for two years? 
Loving the Help Wholeheartedly
It’s funny if you think about it—these women are essentially hired to be family members, participating in the act of raising other people’s children. Kids grow attached to them. At times, they see their helpers more often than they do their own parents.
Yet, at the same time, there is a transactionality to this relationship (surprising or not). They are paid to care for your kid. Your kid, being a kid, loves them blindly in return.
It’s a relationship fraught with both exploitation and intimacy. As a fully-grown woman raised by my helper, I still find this relationship difficult to digest and decipher. 
Thinking back, I remember giving her hugs and affection and saying, “Sorry Endang. Maaf ya. Tadi saya marah…” after losing my temper at her for ironing my clothes wrong or messing something trivial up.
I remember when she cooked a fantastic nasi tumpeng for my birthday party. As my friends dug in, she sat at the back of the kitchen, doing her duties instead of joining in.
I used to pray to God that she would never have to leave. My biggest fear back then was that she would have to go back to her real family.
Even in navigating this unbalanced mother-daughter/employer-helper relationship, there was inexplicable authentic, unconditional love for each other.
Still, for our parents, this transaction is viewed differently. I’ve seen how my friend’s parents reacted to my friend wanting to give her helper a heartfelt gift—a framed picture of the two of them—when she was retiring and going back to the Philippines.
“Why? We already gave her a lot (of money). We don’t need to give more,” they intoned, incredulous that their daughter felt she needed to give the helper anything else. For them, it was all a mere business transaction.
Helpers Seen and Lost
The revolving door of helpers and drivers coming and going from my family is ever-turning. I remember a company driver I spent time road-tripping with in Batam, only to find out he died a couple of years later in a car crash.
I’ve also seen my cousins grow up with the same helper for decades. The years have been unkind as we watch her wither away in age, to the point she could no longer work and was sent back. Their helper has since passed away as well.
I have always wondered what this relationship meant to the different parties involved. Is it just helper-employer? Is it a friendship?
For me, it was a familial love and bond. And it can go both ways. 
When my grandfather died, I remember having to shake hands with countless funeral attendees. Everyone who was family wore a pinned rose. So did I. Looking around, I saw the helpers who took care of him, rose-less, eyes red from grieving for the 99-year-old man they spent every waking day taking care of.
Standing surrounded by hundreds of flower bouquets, I watched as the helpers mourned my late grandfather. But at least there was a ritual and a space for me to express my grief.
But when my helper died, all I got was a picture sent over WhatsApp of her lifeless body wrapped in a kain kafan (the white shroud used in Muslim funeral rituals) and a phone call revealing that she had passed away.
I sat in my room alone in deafening silence, with no one to mourn with. No hands to shake, nothing.
I longed to be there for her funeral, but it was 2020—the height of the pandemic. Still, that didn’t stop me from clicking furiously on my phone, searching for flights despite knowing there were none.
So in the middle of this helpless night, with a giant void in my heart and a rock in my throat, I did the only thing I could do—the superficial act of arranging for flowers at 2 AM.
If I couldn’t be there, a stand of flowers would have to be my stand-in.
The next day, I was sent a picture of the flowers at the funeral site. The image was strange. One floral arrangement on a barren field, plastic chairs in the background, no other bouquets around in sight. Mine was the only arrangement she received. 
I loved the woman like my mother, and all I had for her was some flowers in an empty field. To me, she deserved the world—she deserved thousands of flowers and an ocean of love surrounding her. She deserved to know how much I valued her.
All this love I had for her had no place to go.
The Career of Care
It made me wonder how different my life would have been without her—how she forms an integral part of who I am today. Like my helper, many domestic workers stay with their families for years in regions like Singapore, India, Malaysia, Hong Kong, and Indonesia.
I grew up observing maids enter the lives of affluent families and observed this relationship until their employment ended. The person they cared for either didn’t need them anymore or died. Either that or the helpers themselves fell ill or grew too old to work.
In the case of my helper, it was age that led her to spend her golden years back in Jakarta with her family.
In Singapore, helpers’ contracts are typically renewable for two-year terms. Worker retention is encouraged to prevent excessive turnover. Workers must be 23 to 50 years old during the age of application; they can renew their contracts and stay for an unlimited amount of years until they reach the age of 60.
However, I know things are different from personal experience after helping my mom send in appeals to the Ministry of Manpower (MOM) to enable our helper to stay longer. You can retain a helper beyond that age in Singapore. My helper stayed with us well into her 60s.
Hong Kong bears a resemblance to Singapore, with similar renewable two-year contract terms and an age range of 18 to 59, with one considerable difference. Hong Kong implements a long service payment for domestic workers who have been with their employees for more than five years and are retiring due to health issues or old age.
There, helpers who have had their contract terminated due to redundancy—such as a move or the fact that the children your worker is taking care of have grown up—still get a service payment.
In other regions like Indonesia, the household is considered almost always off-limits with regard to state intervention, meaning laws regulating helpers have been left largely unregulated. The role of domestic workers is seen as a maternal one, and they are often referred to simply as helpers (the soft term in Malay: pembantu) rather than perceived as actual workers.  
After two decades of pressure, Indonesia is still working on passing a domestic workers’ bill. Their exclusion from labour law gives them little to no control over the terms of their employment and little structure to implement a pension plan.
Similarly, in the Philippines, being a domestic worker (‘kasambahay’ or ‘yaya’) is considered neither a formal nor an informal occupation. Paid domestic work is an essential source of employment, with numbers increasing yearly. However, many people regard it as unskilled work that can be exploited.
The implementation of Kasambahay Law in 2013 offers more protection for Filipino domestic workers—but it has opened the door to unethical practices by unscrupulous employment agencies charging illegal fees and offering little stability. Many workers are afraid to voice any complaints and remain vulnerable to the hands they are dealt.
Helpers work well into and beyond their retirement years, dedicating their lives to other families as an occupation, partly because of the lack of security that their job offers them. Informal work arrangements mean little political protection and practically zero financial cushioning after retirement.
With many countries not offering any pension, there is little security for what comes after. And for those without children or families to take care of them, what sort of life are they returning to?
Then there is the emotional impact of living a large portion of their life embedded in someone else’s home.
One party watches the other grow up. The other watches the other age into their autumn years.
Grief With Nowhere to Go
Finding a place for the love I had for my helper after she passed on was like navigating in the dark in an empty room. Especially since she wasn’t technically my family or my friend. I had no one to share this grief with—and hardly any place to visit to bear witness to it. 
When I confided to my mother about my grief, she retorted with hurt. “It feels like you loved Endang more than me,” she remarked.
This is not the first occurrence of a parent feeling slighted by a child’s love for the helper. Nor will it be the last.
As people from an invisible faction of society, helpers are often kept in the background or sidelines of our lives. They are the ones in the corner pew of a grandfather’s funeral. They are the ones cooking in the back of the kitchen on our birthdays. They are the ones holding the camera and snapping our family pictures on holidays and occasions—rarely a part of the photo.
Most of the time, they are unseen and unacknowledged. And so I found my loss and love similarly unseen and unacknowledged by society.
A Fitting Goodbye
After leaving Jakarta, I offered money to ensure my helper got her final resting place. I only received a picture of the completed work while in the throes of writing this piece.
And yes, I know ceremonies and tombstones are more for the living than the dead. But it’s finally a worthy space where she can be honoured in the way I feel she deserves.
More selfishly, it’s a way to hold on to the little I have left of her.
The groundskeeper is also working on getting a tree planted next to the tombstone. During my visit, I noticed that the other side of the graveyard was sprawling with beautiful trees, and I knew I wanted the same for her. 
They offered frangipani, which I gladly agreed to. I didn’t even know that frangipani is both a fitting symbol of the immense love and lasting bond between two people—and also a symbol of connecting with spirits and ghosts.
That’s all I ever wanted. An expression of love for Endang and a way to connect to her again.
So often, helpers bear the burden of domestic labour and mothering. But they are ironically never really considered truly part of the domicile. They spend years mothering children but are never considered part of the family. They spend years in our personal space but are never really at home.
But Endang was my family. And I hope that now, she has finally found the home she truly deserves.
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munsonsmixtapes · 15 days ago
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Hi! I have a request for you
🦇, ⛸️
I've been rollerblading for 12 years so, despite not being a professional ice skater, I know my way around the rink.
I'd like some friends to lovers where we take eddie ice skating but he's like Bambi on ice and we have to keep him from falling all the time. When I skate I feel free so I also imagine eddie seeing us in that moment where there are no worries and we're relaxed
Thanks, I hope it's good enough 🙏🏻🙏🏻
The rink was super crowded when you and Eddie showed up and he hated how nervous he was. He told you that he had never been ice skating before so he was expecting to be bad even though you encouraged him, telling him that maybe he actually could be good at it.
But as soon as he stepped on the ice, all of that hope you built up quickly faded as he took a tumble right there. You were quick to help him up, taking his hands in yours and he admired how soft they were. God, he always loved holding yours hands.
And you kept hold of his as you led him around the rink, your movements nothing but smooth while his were short and slow as he dragged the skates along the ice. You thought it was adorable how he resembled Bambi, his feet moving this way and that as he kept calling your name to get you to help him.
You told him that you could do something else since he seemed so miserable, but assured you that he was fine. But really, he was miserable, but you seemed happy and he loved you so he was going do what he could to keep that pretty smile on your face.
"See, you got it," you encouraged as he stook a longer stride, moving his skates along the ice and you could seeing him getting more confident with it as he moved with you.
"Yeah, look at me," he said as he puffed out his chest. He was getting cocky and just when he was about to try a spin, he slipped, falling to the ice and taking you with him.
All you could do was laugh as you fell on top of him, finding the whole thing hilarious. And Eddie let you laugh at him because he just loved hearing it as it had always sounded like music to his ears.
But the laughter soon died out and you were just staring at each other, your lips parting as your gaze quickly looked at his pretty pink ones.
"You're so cute," you complimented as you took the chance, leaning down and pressing your lips to his. He gasped into your mouth but quickly melted into you, his hands moving up to grab onto your arms.
It was everything either of you had ever dreamed of since you has secretly been thinking about kissing each other for years now. His were chapped but still soft and they tasted like the hot chocolate you had gotten from the concession stand outside the rink. It was all perfect.
But then you realized what you were doing all too soon as you pulled away, covering your kiss bitten lips with your hand and Eddie felt his stomach plummet as he watched you look down at him in horror.
"I'm sorry," you apologized, biting down on your bottom lip, making Eddie want to kiss you all over again. What were you sorry for, anyway? You had given the man the best kiss he ever had and you were apologizing? Clearly he was missing something.
"I'm not," he says as he stands up, moving closer to you slowly before taking you into his arms with a cheesy grin. "I mean, shit, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he breathes and your eyes go wide as his confession.
"You have?" You ask and feel your cheeks flush.
"I have," he confirms with a nod and your face breaks out in a grin that matches his as you pull him in for another kiss before leading him off the rink to somewhere more private.
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jinnieboosworld · 10 months ago
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To celebrate my recent membership @deoboyznet I’ll be writing a ot11 series.
These fics are the stories of how The Boyz met the one and only YOU!
I will try to have more gender identity inclusive fics in the future, but for now, unfortunately these fics are only x fem reader but there isn’t any description of race and little to no mention of physical appearance other than clothing.
Each fic will come with their own warnings.
Some fics are 18+ so please be mindful and look out for 18+ on said fics, and if you are under 18 DO NOT INTERACT.
Last but not least I am so excited to present to you the fics!
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Strawberry Milkshakes
Waiter Eric x Waitress Reader
Eric Sohn loves his job working as a waiter at a 24 hour diner. So when the diner starts to lose its customers to a rival diner he has to go there to see what all the hype is about, and that’s when he meets you. A pink haired, neon colored- dressed, rollerblader, who makes amazing strawberry milkshakes.
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Glitter and Rhinestones 18+
Bassist Juyeon x Reader
Lee Juyeon a bassist in a band sees a very sparkly girl in the audience of his band’s concert. At the end of the show he invites her and her friends backstage. Little does he know y/n hates him and his band.
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My Uncle Thinks Your Pretty
Sangyeon x Teacher Reader
Y/n a kindergarten teacher tries hard to make sure all of her students can come to her class and have a safe place where they can both learn and have fun. So when one of her students win a prize due to his good grades she decides to talk to his extremely handsome “father” after class to commend him.
Please go to part two for the rest.
Taglist
@a-dream-bookmark
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 3 months ago
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Lol remember the early days when there was an about-even split between people who thought that Gabriel would be Hawkmoth and people who thought Alim Kubdel would be Hawkmoth? Good times, good times. Speaking of Alix’s dad, how would you have had the show pan out with him being Hawkmoth instead?
I wasn't around to see it in real time, but I browse fanfics in rough chronological order starting from the beginning of a fandom, so I'm aware that this theory was a thing because I've read a good portion of the fics that were written pre Origins. (AO3 has a last update filter if you want to pair down your options for a less overwhelming selection or just enjoy fics from before certain plot points came to be.)
While I'm aware of the theory, I'm a little confused as to where it came from. Alim only has two brief appearances in season one. The first is from the start of The Pharaoh. In it, we see Alim telling Jalil that historical artifacts are not meant for testing crackpot theories:
Mr. Kubdel: Jalil, these types of frescoes are almost always the illustration of a legend. They called it a legend for a reason... Jalil: That's what everyone thinks. But I know it's real. I can prove it! Mr. Kubdel: Really? And exactly how are you going to prove it? Jalil: I just need to get my hands on Tutankhamun's scepter and recite the spell! Mr. Kubdel: Are you serious? Don't even think of touching that scepter. I'd lose my job on the spot. It's a priceless historical object! Not a toy! Jalil: Come on, dad! We have to try out the spell! What if Tutankhamun had found out how to bring people back to life? Mr. Kubdel: Listen, Jalil! That's enough! Get your head out of those papyrus scrolls and focus on the real world! This one! (leaves)
And his other appearance is from the start of Timebreaker. In it, Alim gives Alix the watch that is later revealed to be her miraculous:
Alix: They're Marinette's parents. You know, one of the chicks I hang out with? Mr. Kubdel: Yes, I remember. They make the best bread in the whole of Paris. (he notices one of Alix's sneakers) Couldn't you have made more of an effort to dress nicely? Alix: What do you mean? I took off my cap. (points to her cap) Mr. Kubdel: But this is a special day. Alix: Well, it's only a birthday. Mr. Kubdel: No, this is a special birthday (reaches inside his jacket pocket and brings out a watch) This family heirloom was made by one of our ancestors many, many years ago. It's been passed down from one generation to the next, on their 15th birthday. And today, it's your turn to inherit it. Alix: It's pretty sweet, dad. But I've already got a watch, synced up to my smartphone. Mr. Kubdel: But sometimes there's more to things than meets the eye. Let's just say that our ancestor was… (opens the watch) Ahead of his time. (Alix gasps) Of course, I'd understand if you'd rather me buy you a new pair of rollerblades. Alix: No, Dad! I'm stoked to have it. It's awesome, thank you! (her phone rings) Mr. Kubdel: Are your friends waiting? Alix: Yeah, but I don't wanna bail on you. It's cool. Mr. Kubdel: No, no, go ahead. (Alix stands up and grabs her cap) Now, take good care of it.
Based on these two scenes, Alim doesn't read like a villain to me. He reads like some sort of protector. If I had to pick a role for him, it would be the guardian, not the villain. After all, what better way to find missing miraculous than to go into a field that has you informed about all sorts of interesting archaeological discoveries? The fact that he's handing out a miraculous only elevates that potential, especially since Alim was smart enough to give it to the kid who was suited to be a hero while leaving Jali is be his conspiracy-theory-loving self.
Another variation of that is to have him (or Alix's other parent) be the rabbit holder and Alim is passing on the torch to Alix because it's time to start her training. He did say that the watch is handed down through their family and, if there's one miraculous that would need a lot of training, it's the rabbit. Plus a history related field is a perfect fit for a rabbit!
Of course, a villain might also go into a field like curation in order to find miraculous, but I'm really not getting villain vibes here. Part of the reason Gabriel makes such a good villain is that he has a clear, understandable goal: bringing back his wife. Alim has nothing like that, so to make him into a villain, I'd have to come up with a motivation for him and the only thing that I can think of is wanting to bring back his own seemingly missing spouse. That's not a very interesting route, though, since it's just a copy-paste of Gabriel's plot and I'd want Alim to be something unique unless you wanted to swap Adrien and Alix for some reason and just tell the same story with a focus on different characters.
I mean, you could make Alim have a motivation like protecting historical artifacts, but then why would he want the ladybug and the black cat? What wish would he be trying to make? Rewriting history won't protect it! I could maybe see a goal of rewriting history to stop a bunch of atrocities, but any historian would know that undoing a given set of atrocities means massive changes to history and it would likely just lead to different atrocities. You'd have to change how humans work or something equally messed up to make a world without atrocities, which makes it a pretty poor motivation as it would make Alim too cartoonish to really work. He'd feel like such a massive step down from Gabriel's complexity...
All of this is why I don't think that the show should have continued post Gabriel. I just don't see what motivation you can give a villain that isn't either derivative or a cartoonish downgrade. "I want to resurrect my wife" just hits different from "I want to take over the world."
To make Alim a villain in his own right, you'd have to redesign major elements of the show. I think a character with his background would work well as a master thief who collects historical artifacts for his own collection or to sell them so that he can live in luxury, but I can't picture his character sending out akumas to terrorize Paris. Ladybug and Chat Noir would go from action heroes to something more stealthy. Spies who are trying to track down Alim and stop his network, returning artifacts to their rightful owners. Not a bad concept for a show, but too different from Miraculous for me to pretend it's a good concept for a series reboot.
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smilesatdawnmain · 2 months ago
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It's kinda a small thing to be excited about but the idea of MK's first fight in Rollerblades has me hyped for whenever it happens
Oh my gosh YES! I showed a bit of it during the latest chapter, but the DETAIL I wanna go into when they do an official fight where everyone can see him using them? _ YESSSS
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