#and they ruined Barbie dolls now

[jaejoongs-nipple-piercing]

I think I have Odette. And I bought you Erica for Christmas off of eBay when I first discovered the power (curse) of credit cards.

Also, at least Erica only sounds demonic. Annalise has gone mute.

*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*

[dykespence]

Carla : lisa , you know I'd go to hell and back for you. but sometimes I just wish you'd stop going there

[aikaterini-drag]

Past And Present PART 3

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: You think back to how you and Rafe first met and all the memories you’ve shared. You get emotional but Rafe’s always there for you.

Warnings: lots of fluff and sweet moments, soft Rafe, brother’s best friend, memories.

This belongs to the ‘Loving You Series’. Find it here.

It was a lovely morning.

The sun streamed through the windows, warm shafts of light kissing your skin. Rafe had already left for work but since you were feeling a little nauseous you stayed home. You were in your 2nd pregnancy month, feeling lightheaded and nauseous all the time. Rafe made you a light breakfast and refused to go to his company. But you were fine and Rafe had a very important contract to negotiate that day. It took a hell of an effort to convince him to go. He insisted you take your prenatal medicine and lie in bed. You also promised to text him every fifteen minutes to reassure him.

Satisfied that you had the day to lie down and relax, you stretched lazily in bed, a small smile on your face. The nausea was fading and you lovingly rubbed your still-flat stomach. Your life felt good, precious, and joyful. You were about to marry your childhood sweetheart and were expecting your first child.

Rafe Cameron had been in your life since you were a child. He was your brother’s best friend, his presence constant in your family house.

You vividly remembered being 8 years old and Rafe being 10. You smiled at the memory. It had been a sunny afternoon and you were playing tea-time in the backyard with your dolls, completely absorbed in your own little world. Rafe was playing video games with your big brother inside, your parents were at the supermarket.

“What are you doing, little squirt?” Rafe had asked, pulling you from your game.

“Don’t call me that,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Go away.”

Rafe laughed and walked over to you, crouching down to your level. “Having a tea party, huh? That’s for babies.”

Rafe inspected your tea set and your small pink chair and table. He chucked as he held up a tiny plastic teacup. Then he picked up one of your dolls, Miss Sparkles, a new Barbie with silky long hair and a pink dress. He held it up before you could stop him.

“Hey, do you think dolls can fly?” he asked in wonder.

You frowned. “No, dolls can’t fly.”

“Wanna bet?” he grinned, and before you could protest, he tossed the doll into the air. The poor Barbie soared in the sky before landing in a mud ditch with a soft splash.

You gasped. “No! Rafe, you’re the worst!”

You ran to the mud pile and gently grabbed your doll, now covered in mud and filth.

“Hate you, hate you, hate you!” you mumbled, ready to cry.

“Nah, don’t start crying now,” Rafe ran to you, his face tight. “I didn’t mean it!”

“Why do you always ruin my stuff?” You sniffled, tears in your eyes. “You are the worst!”

“Take it back!” he said. “I just thought it would be funny!”

“Miss Sparkles is covered in mud. How is that funny?!”

Rafe sighed. “I didn’t think she’d land in the mud.”

“Well, what’s done is done now. You ruined her.”

You turned to move away, but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. Eyes on you, he took your doll and rubbed it messily on his hoodie. Your eyes widened. That was his favorite hoodie, a Christmas gift from his dad. Without flinching, Rafe cleaned the face of your doll, ruining his perfectly white clothing.

“Whoa…” you muttered, your mouth going slack.

“There! Your doll’s ruined, my hoodie’s ruined too. Now stop crying.”

“You could just clean her with water, you fool,” you said, your tears stopping. “Not ruin your hoodie.”

“I had to do something! That’s what came to mind. An eye for an eye,” Rafe said, handing the doll back to you.

You dropped the doll to the ground. “Leave me alone.”

And with that, you ran into the house.

Later that day, you found your favorite Miss Sparkles outside your room, sparkling clean and in better condition than you’d ever seen her. Your doll was wet but no longer smudged, her hair untangled. A note was tucked at the bottom of the box, saying “I’m sorry”. You smiled and secretly thought that Rafe Cameron was not such a bad boy after all.

Ever since then, your interactions with Rafe grew less and less animated. When he came to visit, he was polite and discreet. He hung out with your bother a lot and you remembered the sleepovers and the late-night talks you’d overhear about the girls they liked. For some reason, you didn’t like it when Rafe talked about other girls.

Sometimes, Rafe would pick you up from school when your parent;s or brother couldn’t. You would walk together, barely talking. Rafe would buy you ice cream but you watched him warily, fearing he might prank you again. But he never did. He never pranked or teased you ever again.

And then you finally started trusting him again. You were friendly to him and you could swear his eyes lit up whenever he saw you.

It was 4 years ago when your relationship turned intimate, your feelings molding into something deep and intense.

Rafe had been 26, and he had started a small real estate company with the help of his father. And you, at 24, worked at a library and volunteered at a local history museum. The position wasn’t a large one like the prestigious museums you’d dreamed of, but you were patient.

On that sunny afternoon, you were busy setting up a new exhibit on local folklore. You’d been working non-stop and you seriously needed to take a break. As luck would have it, your phone buzzed. It was Rafe.

“Little squirt?” he teased, his voice deep and warm.

“Will you stop calling me that?” You laughed affectionately.

“It depends. What are you doing?”

“I’m at the museum.”

“Are you free for lunch?”

“Sure,” you replied, smiling. “I could use a break.”

“Wait for me. I’ll see you in twenty.”

Rafe arrived five minutes early, sauntering into the museum in his fine linen shirt and dark blue trousers. You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat or two. His blue eyes sparkled, and he looked even better than all the art around him. He’d grown into a handsome man, tall and fit, his once-boyish features now chiseled and mature.

“Rafe,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Hey there, Miss curator,” he greeted, pulling you into a warm hug. You felt the firmness of his body against yours, goosebumps awakening on your while body.

“Hey yourself, Mr. CEO,” you teased back, inhaling his clean masculine scent. You wished he’d hug you more, but he stepped back.

“Let’s grab a bite, hm?”

You hummed in agreement.

You settled in your favorite Italian restaurant, sitting in a small table outside. The place was bustling. Rafe sat next to you, the seat and table a little too small for his long legs and tall frame. You secretly laughed as you watched him try to make himself comfortable but once you sat beside him, he went silent. Your thighs brushed gently as you moved. You tried not to be affected as you chatted about work and life while eating.

“How’s the new exhibit going?” Rafe asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s great,” you replied. “I’m focusing on local folklore and I’m honestly amazed at how many stories and traditions are out there. I can’t wait to show it off to everyone.”

Rafe smiled, his arm casually draping over the back of your chair. “You are incredible. You’ve always been.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. “And how’s the real estate business going?”

“Pretty good so far,” he said. “We’re closing on a big deal next week. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

You grinned. “Remember when we were kids, and you used to tease me without end?”

Rafe chuckled. “Don’t remind me.”

“You are all mature now but back then, you were such a troublemaker.” You smiled. “Yet you always made it right. Like the time you ruined your favorite hoodie to clean my Barbie doll.”

Rafe looked at you, his expression softening. He didn’t reply and you both fell into an emotionally charged silence, watching each other. His blue eyes held yours, occasionally shifting to your mouth.

His hand, the one resting on the back of your chair, moved to cup your neck. Your breathing picked up, your heart rate increasing.

“What have you done to me?” he drawled, his voice dark and silky.

“Rafe?” you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. You’d done nothing.

“Want to kiss you,” he said, his eyes caressing your lips.

You swallowed hard, a little explosion going off in your head.

Rafe wanted to kiss you.

Rafe wanted to kiss you.

Rafe wanted to kiss you.

Damn… your heart was somersaulting.

You came out of your high when he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes dilated.

Before you could think rationally, you did the unexpected. You cupped his face and pressed his lips to yours. He froze for exactly one second, then moaned and responded, his moist, firm mouth claiming yours. His lips were warm and tasted faintly of the wine he’d been drinking.

The kiss started slow and thoughtful but soon turned deep, with him crushing you to his chest, the calm shattered with his tongue. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, fast and strong. He possessed your mouth, his tongue tracing the soft fullness of your lips before slipping inside. Shivers of desire raced through you as you gave yourself freely to him.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless. Rafe’s lips were rosy with your lipgloss, deliciously kiss-swollen. You wanted to kiss him again. Your own lips felt mumb from the heady sensation of his lips.

“Wow,” you whispered, wetting your lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he drawled, his eyes sparkling.

“Really?”

“Hmm…” His lips brushed against yours as he added, “You’ve ruined me.”

“Likewise,” you muttered in between slow kissed. “I’ve been wanting this… wasn’t sure if… if…”

His mouth covered yours hungrily.

“You’re mine.” He gazed into your eyes.

Your heart warmed. You nodded. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Baby, you squeezed my heart the day you cried after I ruined your doll. I thought I was just pitying you, but as I got older, it fucked me, turned into so much more.”

“So you fell first, Rafe Cameron,” you said smugly.

“Hmm… I fell hard for you, little squirt,” he said, kissing the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat.

“My brother’s going to kill you,” you said and felt his smile on your skin.

“I’ll take it. For you, I’d take anything, baby.”

And he kissed you again.

From that day on, everything changed.

He was no longer just Rafe, your brother’s best friend. He was Rafe, the man who shared your passions and dreams.

*Back to the Present*

The sound of your name being called out anxiously brought you back to the present. Wiggling on the bed, you sat up against the headboard and muttered a clear and loud, “I’m here.” Rafe dashed inside and knelt beside the bed, taking your small hands in his big ones. He was completely overwrought; his tie was askew, and he was panting, his face pale with worry.

“Rafe?”

“Hey, baby,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “I was a fool to leave you alone. I can’t focus with you being unwell. How are you, love?”

“Rafe,” tears gathered in your eyes. You struggled to hold them back but the memories of the past and seeing him now, so worried and loving, made you emotional all over again.

“Damn, damn it all,” he said, his expression going even more concerned. “I am an ass. Shouldn’t have left you.” He cupped your face and kissed you softly. “I’m here baby. What’s wrong? Should I call the doctor? We can go right n—”

“I’m fine.” You sniffled, hands clutching the lapels of his shirt. “Just emotional.”

“Emotional?”

“Hmm… I was thinking of how you teased me when we were little. And then of our first kiss at that Italian restaurant.”

“But you’re crying,” he said stubbornly. “I can’t take it, can’t take seeing you like this.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “I know. It’s just… I was thinking of how good you are to me and the memories just came flooding. The tears, too.”

“Truly?” he asked tensely, a big palm spreading protectively over your stomach. “You are not unwell? The baby?”

“We are both alright. I promise. Hold me, please?”

“I’ll hold you all day and night, baby.”

Relief washing over his features, he crawls into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest. He kissed away your tears and you greedily enjoyed his body’s warmth, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing your frayed nerves.

“I’m here. Always will be,” he murmured into your hair seconds before you fell into a deep, pleasurable sleep.

Reblogs, follows and any other kind of support are greatly appreciated. Sending hugs!

[nvuy]

What are your thoughts about BootHill and his robotic body in terms of the question if he feels anything on it or not?👀 And,,, does he have the nether regions,,, are they detachable?

What are your professional thoughts on this?

mdni. sorry to burst your bubble, but if we are being realistic, nope. he doesn’t have anything down there, nor does he feel any sort of physical pleasure, pain, or overwhelming cold or heat. he’s made of metal. half the reason he probably wins all of his stand offs is because the opponent’s bullets just bounce off his chest like they’re made of rubber.

“what did you do today, honey?”

“oh, i got shot ‘bout twenty times.” and there’s barely a scratch on him.

i think he’d turn to a strap. since he’s basically a barbie doll, it’s quick and simple and it does the job. i think having a section between his legs where a literal metal cock would attach and detach would be unlikely. he’s a galactic cyborg space cowboy and was made for ulterior motives by others, so i don’t think he’d have a slot down there for anything. sad face

if by some miracle his creators thought it would be funny to give a cyborg a cock, then, yeah, it would detach, like all his other limbs. where he’d put it, who knows. in my opinion he’d probably throw that shit out. not worth his time. he wasn’t made for romance in his past life, nor was he brought back for something so… mundane.

and then starts kicking rocks when he meets you, because now he has a use for it. god forbid he goes back to his creators, first explains he’s thrown out the “you-know-what’s” (poor thing can’t say the actual word) and then admits he needs a new one. he’d throw himself off a cliff (and live) before he’d do anything like that.

however, it could probably be used for some insane temperature play. he’s already cold to the touch—(don’t touch him in the summer sun, though. it’s like touching a hot stove.)

but yeah, in my opinion, he’d probably just have a strap. coolest part is you can go buy whatever you want for him to wear. he’s gonna ruin you with all he’s got anyway. that’s a promise.

[flickrrposts]

Thank you everyone for all the notes and kind words!!

Happy Barbie Day everybody!

[starkeysprincess]

Stepbro!Rafe messing up your lip gloss omg I need.

-And what if he became obsessed with watching you get ready for the day

-Then eventually you just do your makeup but you let him do everything else like put your gloss on, brush and style your hair, put ribbon around your pony or pigtails, jewelry on, etc. just treating you like his little doll while you sit on his lap🙂↕️😣

-“you’re always my babydoll but are you feeling barbie or bratz today?”

-oh and if you try to grind on his leg, he’d reach under your little skirt and pinch your clit “not til later, princess, as much as I love seeing you all messy, don’t make daddy ruin his work, okay? You look so pretty” giving you another sloppy kiss🫠

he’d apply it so messily just so he can ruin it even more, leaving his lips sticky from your gloss

i can see him wanting to dress you up cause it gives him control over what you can and can’t wear as well as he gets to make you into his perfect little doll and he’d have you sitting on his lap as he’s applying your lipgloss even tho you have a vanity

this is one of the few times where he’d actually be soft, praising how pretty you look on his lap, knowing damn well that you thrive off his praises and you can’t help but grind on his thigh, letting out a small squeak when he reaches under your skirt to pinch your clit, “not now princess, don’t need you ruining my work, daddy’ll give you what you want later if you’re a good girl”

[genericpuff]

the last few episodes of persephone moping around have felt like less of a self-reflective moment for her to grow and change and more rachel griping about criticism and surrounding herself with yes men

this isn't gonna be in any way a formal essay like my usual sort, more of a slam post honestly, so fair warning that i'm gonna be a little salty here

EPISODE 263 SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

but seriously, it's been a pity party of greek proportions because this constant "woe is me" shit with persephone that's constantly met with "no queeen you're amazing and perfect" has been going on for DAYS (real time and comic time)

literally every episode since the comic returned has had some segment of either persephone or hades (or both) being upsetti spaghetti over their current situation because oh nooo persephone made the deal with erebus and had to sacrifice something. even though they both knew that was gonna happen and yet she did it anyways. so she just continues to lock herself away in her mansion and spout adorkable quips while her husband, mother, and colleagues deal with the mess she caused.

and of course there's the constant inclusion of apollo spitting straight facts about persephone being a terrible queen and person, but of course because it's apollo saying it, it's not meant to be taken as gospel, essentially clapping back at the words of the critics who call out persephone for being a shitty and toxic protagonist by putting those words into the mouth of a literal rapist.

and yeah episode 263 had a lot of the same shit, to the point that you could literally swap out the names of the characters and the words they were speaking and it applies exactly to rachel and the corner she put herself in u.u it's been a thing for a while now that apollo has just felt like a mouthpiece for LO criticism but as mentioned by users within the subreddit during the discussion of this newest episode, it's never felt more apparent than now.

so yeah enjoy this satirical text edit of a sequence from the newest FP episode, which I honestly can't tell is meant to satirize the critical community or Rachel's reactions to the critical community because the weird reality this comic and its community exist in has just become that wack that it's hard to believe it's not directly from The Onion sometimes LMAO

-and as much as i find myself empathizing with the pressure that rachel is surely under right now - no one should have to be subject to the screeching howls of the peanut gallery - i can't help but be reminded of the memes and tweets she's put out that basically outright say "persephone is supposed to be celebrated for being a shitty person, if you can't handle her at her worst you don't deserve her at her best 💅"-

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

-and how often she's ruined her own day looking for critical groups or people with the "wrong opinions" that were minding their own business, or how much she's stifled her own community's attempts to discuss the story openly by having her mods ban anyone with even so much as a question regarding persephone's integrity.

so yeah, as much as i can empathize with her from one creator to another that being under this amount of pressure and scrutiny must be immensely frustrating and exhausting, beyond that one similarity i just can't empathize or relate to this mindset of almost learned helplessness that's taken a firm grip over her writing. this is the story she wants to tell and by all means no one is entitled to make her stop, but if she's gonna keep using her greek myth "retelling" comic that's trying to be "feminist" as a mouthpiece for her own griping over criticisms that are largely on-point and justified - to the point of putting the words of her critics into the mouth of her token villain like she's playing some single player barbie doll "act out that fight that sounded cooler in your head" game - then she's gonna keep getting called out, full stop. i figured she didn't have any nose left to rip off in spite of her face but apparently not.

look, i get it, there are some opinions and behaviors within the critical community that even i'm not on board with. there are people who absolutely take shit too far on both sides of the fandom, and i think both sides need to do more to hold themselves accountable for how they interact with each other, the comic, and rachel herself. i make it a point to keep my shit in my own house, i'm not entitled to rachel's attention and frankly it's the last thing i want because i have a lot of fun here and i don't want that to be potentially ruined or dampened! but if you come into my house and complain about the decorating, then i legitimately don't know what to tell you. i used to love LO and i'm so sad for my past self knowing fully well they're not gonna be able to wholeheartedly enjoy this comic forever due to how manipulative and shitty the storytelling has become. a story that i once connected to as an AFAB who was a victim of assault and abuse and generational trauma.

if persephone being the true main villain in her own story was ever meant to be the point of Lore Olympus, then it's taken way, way too long to get to that point, and rachel herself definitely doesn't seem to be of the mindset that that's what she's become with all of her blasé meme'ing on a plot arc that she's still expecting us to take seriously. persephone was never a very complex character to begin with - being an easy self-insert for the audience and rachel to project themselves onto and relate to - but at least in the beginning she felt like she had so much legitimate potential, she was naive but put her best foot forward and clearly wanted to make a life for herself, made by herself.

now she's just mean. jaded and mean. dependent on the constant validation of others to the point of being manipulative. an absolute shell of a person who can only grow a spine when she's punching down on people weaker than her, completely incapable of standing up to the people who are a legitimate threat to her. it's not empowering, it's not subversive, it's just another pick me story about women pitting themselves against other women and never taking accountability for their own behavior, mistakes, and deliberate actions meant to hurt others, often teetering on the line of straight up narcissism all for the sake of a "boss babe" moment.

anyways, if you want an actual well-written and GOOD scene of an empathetic female protagonist struggling to find their footing in adulthood being called the fuck out for their learned helplessness behavior, go read Tamberlane, it tackles this topic much better through its main character who keeps using her brokenness as an excuse to never do better, it slaps and it's so real.

[dcdreamblog]

So what exactly was the timeline of events for the so called reign of the supermen? The confusion on the side of the news reporters makes events hard to sort through, and the 2019 documentary didn't actually make things clearer. And then all the conspiracy theories around the event make it harder to actually find information (putting aside Coast City or the theories that the current Superman is one of the impostors, I've seen people claim one of the impostor supermen replaced Clark Kent the Daily Planet reporter for some reason.)

Ok, that last one is just omnipresent especially if you're FROM Metropolis and know Clark Kent as a public figure of some note. He's like, THE guy for some reason getting wrapped up in conspiracy theories of this kind. If you see someone ranting about him being Superman they are either A. a conspiracy buff or B. REALLY butthurt because they shipped people in real life and the Reporter Barbie didn't kiss the He-Man doll.

The "Reign of the Supermen" is a loose term describing a period of about 5 months in Metropolis following Superman's battle and seeming death against the monster known as Doomsday. Superman's death was an intensely traumatic experience for the superhero community, the world at large and especially Metropolis in specific.

(The famous image of Superman's body laying in the center of Daily Planet plaza, his longtime friend Lois Lane wailing a lament over the fallen hero)

Superman's funeral was one of the most attended public events in Metropolis history and THE most viewed event in the history of the Galaxy Broadcasting Company where it aired live. However, within days of the hero being laid to rest, not one, but four new heroes came out and either attempted to fill Superman's shoes or claimed to be Superman himself reborn.

(The famous collage topping the Daily Planet spread where "Reign of the Supermen" was first coined. Left to right: The Man of Steel, The Man of Tomorrow, The Metropolis Kid and The Last Son of Krypton)

The Man of Steel: Appearing in Metropolis in connection to an uptick in gang activity using the highly advanced "Toastmaster" energy weapons, The Man of Steel never actually made a claim that he was Superman reborn. Simply claiming to be following the original's example although conspiracies abounded as they did about EVERYTHING during the period. Of course we known now that this hero, who currently goes by just "Steel" is in reality genius mechanical engineer John Henry Irons who was indeed inspired by Superman after Superman saved his life during a construction accident. Irons continues on as Steel to this day, where he is one of Superman's closest allies and a premiere defender of Washington DC.

The Man of Tomorrow: Appeared to rescue the then president from an assassination attempt, becoming the most publically prominent of the "Supermen" and one of the two claiming to be the true Superman reborn, having reconstructed his body using Kryptonian technology. Because of his action saving the president's life he was endorsed by the White House as the "true" Superman which gave him a lot of public leeway to do...something terrible...

In reality of course this "Cyborg Superman" was Hank Henshaw, a formerly deceased scientist who blamed Superman for the death of his fellow astronauts after an experimental space craft left the entire crew mutated and ultimately dead. His personality having taken control of some of the technology in Superman's Fortress of Solitude and seeking to use Superman's good name to ruin the hero posthumously. At this moment in time his inert body is in possession of STAR Labs where he is being studied as part of a sentence passed down by the Green Lantern Corps for what we are told are innumerable crimes against galactic life.

The Metropolis Kid: Seemingly a teenager who appeared out of nowhere, stopping the newly appeared villain Sidearm from robbing a public ATM. He never claimed to be related to the original Superman and was open with his origins to the public. He had been created by Cadmus Labratories for some unknown purpose, had broken out of their facilities and was now seeking to use his powers for good (and fame, and pretty girls). His heart was in the right place but he was 6 parts willpower to 1 part brains and 0 parts self control, earning rebukes from Steel AND Guardian after his poor forethought cost a helicopter pilot his life.

Since then however he has been a well known and publically beloved teen superhero, serving with distinction on Young Justice, the Teen Titans and more. He is still publically active and beloved as a hero. He and Steel probably require the least explanation. If you found this blog you know who they are.

The Last Son of Krypton: Was the most physically similar to Superman at first glance, however was instantly distrusted by the public due to his brutal and violent methods despite claiming to be the real Superman healed by Kryptonian science. His claim, however, was publically rejected when Lois Lane and the rest of the staff at the Daily Planet (those who would obviously know Superman best) publically denounced him. He was first on the scene during the Coast City tragedy and was blamed for the attack in its direct aftermath.

In reality the "Last Son" was The Eradicator, a piece of Kryptonian technology that had come under Superman's care and viewed itself as a "defender" of Kryptonian culture and heritage. He remained active on and off as a superhero for several years as well as a villainous presence when his programming was hijacked to various malicious ends. To my current knowledge the program is "dead" but god knows for how long. Coast City: (Please be advised the Coast City tragedy is still an open wound for many people. If you do not wish to go any further this is your chance to bow out. Respect and deference to the people of Coast City and their families will be expected and enforced on this blog)

On August 28th an alien craft appeared above Coast City, California. Both The Last Son of Krypton and The Man of Tomorrow respond to the ship as it releases a series of alien devices into the city's airspace. Approximately 80 minutes after they first entered the craft, the devices detonate in an explosion the likes of which dwarf even the most devastating of atomic discharges. 7 Million men, women and children lost their lives in an instant. It is, to this day the single deadliest event in human history. God willing nothing else will ever come close.

The world is stunned. It takes 7 hours for the true severity of the attack to be understood as all communications infrastructure from one of California's largest cities vanishes in an instant. The Man of Tomorrow limps back to civilization and blames the Last Son of Krypton for the disaster. Green Lantern, Steel, Superboy and Supergirl converge on the site. In the following days the entire population of San Georgio county is listed as a casualty of the strike, not a single survivor is discovered within the county's borders.

It is eventually revealed that the "Man of Tomorrow" is responsible, having allied himself with the alien tyrant Mongul attempting to transform the Earth into a "Warworld", a feared class of galactic weapon. It is through these events that the true Superman returns, regaining his powers. Through the combined efforts of Superman, Supergirl, Green Lantern, Superboy, Steel and the Eradicator a similar attack on Metropolis' 11 million people is barely averted.

I was...not alive when Coast City was destroyed. I only grew up in its aftermath. Where the idea of alien tyrants and conquerors, something we had known about for years suddenly came home for us as a society, as a species. 7 million souls wiped from existence, atomized, by one weapon. By one alien with the right trigger to pull. A vibrant west coast metropolis reduced to a blasted crater. 7 million holes left in families around the world.

There were no drills, no duck and cover PSAs, everyone knew that if something of its like showed up again there would be no time and no place to hide. Mongul was officially remanded to Earth's custody by the Green Lantern Corps, citing a "do as thou wilt" clause allowing planets to punish those guilty of genocide outside of galactic trial and treaty. Calls for his execution are stymied for 2 years. He eventually dies in custody due to an opaque supervillain conflict.

Eventually, under the Horne administration, Coast City is officially refounded. It is to this day known as "The City Without Fear" and every year on the anniversary green lanterns are hung in the windows of the city's homes and businesses. Its population is now 2 million strong.

I know that all sounds like derailing from "The Reign of the Supermen" but drill right down to it and that's the legacy. We attached so much trust to Superman, his iconography, his name. We were so grief stricken by his loss that we pinned all our hope on the first man to wear his face and lie to us: and 7 million people paid the price.

Superman has said that his take away from the event is thus: "I learned how dangerous it is...wha...what could happen if I let this world believe it couldn't live without me. Now I have better plans for when I'm gone. I made things clear this time, to the people who need to know."

[caarpenters]

POISON

amber freeman x reader based on this request.

summary: the only one that can have you is amber.

rating: mature so minors DNI. beneath the cut there is unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessive behavior, and jealousy-fueled murder.

word count: 1,188 words

© caarpenters 2023

Wes Hicks vexed Amber Freeman more than she cared to admit. Not because of his borderline concerning level of paranoia. Not because of his deep-seated motherly issues. Not because of his horridly box-dyed blonde hair. Not even because of his deep attachment to her friend, Tara Carpenter. No, her vexation toward Wes could be traced back to one thing and one thing only: you, Y/N L/N. As of late, Wes had grown close to you, too close. He trailed after you like a dog with a bone, happily taking any scrap of attention you threw his way. For a time, his antics had been annoying, nothing more. Eventually, though, you began to inadvertently entertain those antics, to entertain him under the belief that he treated you the same way he did the rest of your friend group. You seemingly did not notice that the only friend he walked to and from class was you. You did not notice how whenever he stole a hug, he lingered just a moment too long, soaking in your warmth and taking in your all too sweet smell through his nostrils. Amber noticed, though. She noticed it all, and it sparked an anger within her that she had not known herself capable of. 

Because you were hers. You had always been hers. Her friend, her steadying force, her person. You were the first person she had met when her family moved to Woodsboro all those years ago. She had been out playing in her yard, messing around with her collection of Chucky dolls, when you had ridden up on your rickety old bike and offered her the brightest smile she had ever seen, a smile that had rivaled the sun in intensity. You had asked to play with her Tiffany doll, the bride of Chucky, and that alone had been enough for her to know in her bones that you two were well-suited. Most children your age had frowned upon the dolls, deeming them creepy, but not you. You adored them, treating them with as much care as Barbie dolls or action figures were treated. 

From that day, you and Amber had been thick as thieves, being one half of the other, which was why she could not tolerate Wes trying to weasel his way between the two of you. How would she handle him? Well, a more sane person would have likely come off with a lie, would have spread gossip meant to sully his name and ruin your perception of him.  You were so good, though, so forgiving, so mere gossip would not be enough. Perhaps that was why when Richie Kirsch proposed a dark, blood-bathed plan to recreate the 1990s Woodsboro killings, she agreed without hesitation or regret. If pushed for her motive, she would without a doubt chalk it up to her love of the Stab franchise. She knew it is not that simple, though, for when Richie proposed his list of victims, she wasted no time in adding Wes to the list. C'mon, Richie. It'll add shock value. He's the son of a legacy character, after all, she had pointed out, even though Judy Hicks could hardly be considered as such. She had, in Amber's opinion, contributed little, the same way that her son had. Richie had thought her important, though, for he had agreed and added him to the list of victims.

That was why now, Amber waited outside of the Hicks residence, donning the typical Ghostface costume. The black material of the robe felt hot against her skin, itchy, but the knife felt right in her hand, its hold so comfortable that it felt as though it was made for her. From the shadows of the porch, she waited, anticipation strumming wildly through her veins. Richie was on the phone now, no doubt, luring Judy back to the house. She could put up a fight, could try her best to preserve her son’s life force, but her efforts would be for naught; her son had sealed his own fate when he had tried to take you, to steal you from Amber. Did he really think that she would sit idly by and let it happen? No, it was not in her nature to do so. To take such a profound loss sitting down was weak, and she was not weak, not when it came to you.

When Judy pulled into the driveway and ran up to the front door, her face a storm of fear, Amber jumped out, emerging from the shadows like a harbinger of death. And oh, what a perfect harbinger she was, for she mercilessly stabbed Judy, delivering upon her one devastating slash after the other. It was a wonder that she had ever become the sheriff of Woodsboro, because she went down easy, so easy. 

Her son went down even easier.

After slaying Judy, Amber left her lying there in a river of her own blood to be found. That was exactly what Wes did, for as if sensing something was amiss, he pulled open the front door of the house and was met by a most horrid sight: the lifeless, cut-up body of the woman who had given him life, who had cared for him when no one else had. Unbidden, a grief-stricken cry tore its way out of his throat as he threw the door closed, trying to prevent the killer from getting in. Little did he know that Amber was already in the house, watching him, waiting. He leant against the doorframe, wheezing from a mixture of pain and fear. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” became a litany, the only words he seemed capable of . . . until Amber came out, her knife poised, aiming for his neck. In an act of pure desperation, his hands flew out, catching hold of the knife before it could make contact with his neck. “Fuck you,” he gasped as they struggled, fighting for control of the knife. He was distressed, willing to do whatever it took to survive, but she – she was incensed, rage incarnate. Months of pent-up vexation and jealousy came out, giving her the strength to win, to gain back control. This saw the knife plunging into his neck, immediately stealing away his breath and drawing out his scarlet blood. “No, fuck you,” she snapped, her tones cold as ice. The voice, it was her own, not that of Ghostface. “Now, die like the pussy you are.”

And he did . . . It was oh so satisfying to Amber.

Wes’ death seemed to hit you hard, to cause great pain to overcome you, which was why Amber stayed loyally by your side, doing everything she could to ensure that you were okay, that her actions did not break you. Little did she know that you took notice whenever she snuck away, believing herself to be discreet. You knew what she had done, but could not bring yourself to care all that much. Wes held no true place in your heart, after all, not the way that she did. And, perhaps, deep down, you knew that his murder, unlike the others, had been personal . . .

i HC amber as a child's play stan. idk why, it just makes sense, so here's a bonus fact: one year, for halloween, y/n and amber wear matching chucky and tiffany costumes. you can decide who wears which.

ALSO i know richie killed wes, but i changed it for the sake of this one-shot.

sign-off template.

[dollsanddaddys]

How many GIFs has it been tonight… Is this the 5th or 10th or 20th post you have liked and rubbed your needy cunt to…

Just imaging… Your tiny tits becoming so big no one can ignore them… Your lips so big that your mouth is just another hole for cock… Your body is filled with so much plastic you look more like a doll than Barbie…

Imagine being the embodiment of objectification… Only really being useful for porn and sex… Ruining everything you are… To become so much less…

Now tell me as you remove your fingers from your cunt… Say it out loud… admit it to yourself… You want to be plastic… You want to be less…

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Muddy boots and a yellow blankie

Barbie dolls: Billy the kid x pregnant(though gender neutral) reader

Word: 2.3k

Summary: you find out you're pregnant and crochet a blanket for your new baby to tell Billy but unfortunately you worry that Billy will leave you when he finds out your preggers

Warnings: talks of sex I mean yk you gotta knock boots to get a baby in the wild West, anxiety about pregnancy, anxiety, self doubt, Billy calls you lover bc I really love that nickname so much, you crochet, mention of feet, that's about it I swear

To be quite fair it wasn’t exactly shocking that you were pregnant. You made do with what you had in the West and hoped for the best. Sex without the promise of children in the future was unheard of. Maybe you get away with it scot-free if your clothes were only flying away from you now and then. Unfortunately, something between you and Billy made you both rabid. You were often consumed by the love you felt for him and pulled him to bed by the back of his shirt before he could fully get through the door. He was no saint either sometimes you'd just breathe and he'd be gently pulling your hands away from your task and tugging you away. 

It just seemed like the two of you both had a lot of fire for the other. Pleasing each other was like breathing. You fell into it with easy muscle memory and yet it was still buzzing. You did finally drag yourself to a midwife after feeling sick for weeks and noticing two missing periods. After listing all your symptoms the midwife stared at you with a look that told you plenty. You were pregnant. Shocker.

Maybe it was smarter and more mature to just sit Billy down and tell him. That's lame though, and you're not lame. Instead, you decided it was time to start crafting.

After you visited with the midwife, you rode your lovely horse over to the stores in town and found yourself what you needed. A little yellow yarn and a hook you already had at home, your unborn baby’s blanket was coming along. 

It didn't look very blanket as of late. It could pass more as a strange tiny rectangular hand towel. You wanted Billy to finish up in the bathroom and join you in bed. Your hands moved like a flash of lightning through the stitches. The bathroom door opened up and you heard Billy let out a sigh of relief. 

He used to wear his boots in the house all the time until he reached the edge of the bed. It was terrible. You threatened to force him to sleep on the kitchen floor. His feet stunk so bad, and he was dragging dirt into the bedroom. Billy quickly squashed his habit, leaving his boots by the front door once he got home. You were grateful to hear his socked feet shuffling across the floor. 

You kept your focus on the tiny rectangle and hook flying through the yarn as he undressed to his underwear at the side of the bed. Billy scoffed as you turned your row, eyes still glued to the yarn. 

“No ogilin’?” Billy asked as he kicked away his pants. You glanced up at him. He was smiling like he was funny. You thought of calling him a bitch. He tilted his head to the side. You resisted the urge to call him beautiful. You returned the smile and looked back to the project. 

“I'm focused.” You answered. Billy hummed in response, flicking back the blankets on his side of the bed. You winced at the wave of cold air that washed over your legs. Billy slipped under the blankets quickly and closed the envelope of warmth again. Billy scooted closer to you, pressing his cheek to your shoulder. 

“What are ya makin’?” Billy whispered, watching your hands speed through stitches. You tilted your head to the side and pecked his forehead. You couldn't exactly say ‘your future child’s first blanket’, that would ruin the surprise. This one little fib will be outweighed by the great news mounting with every stitch. Instead, you said: 

“It's a towel.” Billy let out a tiny gasp in understanding. He nodded against your shoulder, still watching you. 

“Ah. Mighty fine towel, lover.” Billy said, quickly pressing his lips to your cheek. He slipped further down in the bed, resting his head on his pillow. You took it as a sign of it finally being bedtime. You set the project and ball of yarn on the nightstand. You scooted down into the blankets. Billy yanked you closer, pressing his nose to your shoulder. 

“Missed you.” He whispered into your skin. You hummed and wrapped your arms around his head. You gently twirled a small price of his hair around your finger. 

“You were only gone a few hours.” You muttered, dipping your hand away from his hair to the back of his neck. You made small spirals at the base of his neck. Billy pressed his nose further into your skin, sighing. 

“Still,” Billy responded, his voice muffled by your shoulder. You both slipped into sleep quickly after. 

You worked on your blanket every chance you got. As time went on you tried to work on it less in front of Billy. You worried he could see the size and start to put it together. Or at least question it. It wasn't exactly towel-shaped but you suppose he wouldn't know it's a baby blanket just by looking at it. Most nights Billy was too tired or horny to truly care where your towel was. It only took a few days for you to finish the blanket. 

You folded your finished blanket and left it on the kitchen table, getting started on dinner. You wanted Billy to come home to a warm meal and warm news.

You worried, though you had no solid reason to. The unreasonable part in your brain made you wonder if Billy had been swaped out with a Billy clone and he'd be leaving you once he saw the blanket. Or maybe Billy wouldn't come home, maybe he'd gotten caught in a net in the trees, a bear trap of sorts. Or maybe he'd steal your horse and run away once he found out.

As you started plating dinner, you heard his heavy boots clomping against the floor. You heard Billy take a step into the house past the foyer, boots still on.  

“You best take those mud trackers off now, Mr. Bonney!” You yelled in the general direction of the front door. You heard his footsteps freeze and then backtrack. You listened to his boots slipping off and set down next to the coat rack as you straightened the utensils next to his plate. Billy joined you in the kitchen/dining room, socked feet thank goodness. 

“Don't know what you're talking about. I'd never wear my boots in the house.” Billy joked, a smile pulling at his lips. You mocked his tone, snarling at him. Billy pulled you closer to him.  Billy pressed his nose to your cheek, silently asking for a kiss. You tilted your head to face him, gently gracing him with your lips. Billy hummed and pulled back enough to look at the table. His hand rested on your back, an eyebrow quirking at the blanket on the table. Billy turned to face you again, smiling at you gently. In the same way, someone might smile at a lost dog following after you. 

“Darlin’ why’s your towel on the table?” Billy asked. His tone was gentle and it made you want to throw him out into the cold night with no boots. You sighed and reached down for his hand. He took it without complaint. Billy pulled his hand from your back to your empty palm, warming both your hands with his. 

“Billy, It’s not a towel. I told you that to keep it a surprise.” Billy frowned but nodded, encouraging you to continue. “It’s a baby blanket.” You finished. Billy raised a brow and looked at the blanket. He reached over and unfolded it, holding it up to its full blanket-ness. He hummed and looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Mighty fine blanket. Who’s having a baby? Manuela and Charlie?” Billy asked as he refolded the blanket. He gently set it back on the table in its same spot and patted the top. You felt your heart stall.

More to explain. If he didn’t catch on immediately maybe that meant he didn’t want it. You felt like you might fall over. Your hand shot for the table, gripping onto the edge to stabilize yourself. Billy looked up, glancing down at your hand on the table. At your core, you wanted to say ‘We are’ Unfortunately the thought of using the word ‘we’ made your stomach churn. Your anxiety spiked as he moved away from the blanket and held onto your sides, keeping you steady. 

“I am.” You pushed the words out through your anxiety and it came out in a brush of air. Billy froze and his fingers dug into your sides. He took a step back and you felt like anvil settled on your shoulders.

That’s it then, he’s going to start packing his bags now. You looked away from him, staring at the blanket on the table. You pictured wrapping your freshly born baby in it while sitting in a bedroom alone. You already missed his hands holding you and his muddy boots by your door. 

“You’re pregnant?” Billy whispered. You wondered if he was picturing his life alone as well. You looked up from the table, meeting his eyes. You couldn’t stomach saying another word so you just nodded. Billy’s mouth gaped open for centuries. You wanted to reach out and settle back in his arms but you worried he’d push you off. Instead, you pulled out the closest dining chair and slumped into it. If you did faint with no one around to catch you, the table should be closer than the floor.

You stared at the wood grain of the table. You heard Billy’s clothes shuffling as he moved, there he goes to get his muddy boots. Your chair was pulled to the side, turning your side to the table. You held onto the table as Billy moved your chair. You watched him closely as he appeared out from behind your chair. You raised a brow as he settled onto his knees in front of you. He pulled your fingers from the edge of the table and held onto both of your hands. Billy stared up at you. 

“We’re havin’ a baby?” he asked, a smile growing on his face. Your heart skipped a beat as you pulled the idea of him leaving away from this moment. You nodded, faster this time. Billy let out a laugh, burying his face in your lap. You felt his joy spreading to you, your face warming. Billy lifted his head again, pressing multiple kisses to your palms. He quickly looked up to you, his smile falling. He tried to suppress it but his eyes were still crinkled. 

“You’re happy?” He whispered, staring at your face to capture every piece of your reaction. You let out a shocked laugh, nodding. 

“Yes. Yes! I just thought you’d be upset. I was worried.” You pulled your hands from his and reached for his face. Billy smiled when you cupped his cheeks. His hands slipped to the sides of your thighs, holding on tightly. He shook his head quickly. 

“We’re pregnant,” Billy muttered. You snorted and nodded. 

“No. No. I could never be upset. I’m so happy.” He grinned and jerked forward to kiss your lips. You smiled against him and pulled him closer by his cheeks. You felt the same fire warm your lips.

Maybe things wouldn’t be so different with a new life between you two. Maybe his love for you didn’t stop when other men’s love would’ve. You thought of pulling a man off the street and picturing what your life would look like with him instead of Billy and you knew the random man would’ve left by the time you said baby. Billy pulled back before you wanted him to, chasing after him. He gave you one last tiny kiss to your lips, before fully pulling back. You smiled, dropping your hands to his shoulders. 

“We are.” You replied. Billy sat up and lunged himself into your arms, hiding his face in your shoulder. He pecked multiple kisses on the side of your neck, whispering thank yous over and over again. He pulled away again, reaching for the blanket on the table. Billy held it up again, staring at all the stitches he knew came from your skilled hands. 

“This is gorgeous, lover. I can’t wait to wrap our baby up in it.” Billy said, squishing the blanket into a baby-shaped bundle. He cradled it in his arms, leaning towards you. 

“Look how beautiful our baby is.” He snorted at his own joke. You leaned closer to him, reaching down to waggle your finger in front of the blanket. 

“Hi little one, look how cute you are.” Billy laughed and dropped the blanket onto his lap, reaching out for your face again. It was barely a kiss. You were both grinning so hard you could only kiss for a split second before he pulled away. 

“We have to tell Charlie, and Tom, and Tunstil, and-“ You pressed a finger to his lips, pausing his spiral before it got too far. Billy closed his mouth and waited for you to speak. 

“First we have to eat dinner.” Billy nodded and quickly stood up. He joined you at the table. He complimented your cooking more than he usually did. You wanted to pester him for it but you let it slide for one night. He must've had enough emotions for one night because quickly after dinner he was dragging you off to bed. Billy complained about how you’d have to get more sleep now because you were resting for two. As you pulled him against you under the sheets, cradling his head to your chest, you wondered how worrisome he would get over the upcoming months. No matter he was in your arms and that's all that matters. 

[taldigi]

Ideas for the Retransmission Shadows?

Yosuke - Shady Club

I remember you saying that Yosuke feels conflicted towards the two opportunities that he can pursue; stay in Inaba in this grocery store, or leaving for the city. I feel like he would want control over his life, but also feels resigned to his fate of a boring life with people that talk behind his back. He would want control over his life, so his Shadow is a DJ, someone who can freely change and control the music playing in his rave club. His desire for something more could be reflected in the club being very… shady, with people(?) being pushed, shoved, and harmed in the intense party atmosphere. The investigation team would need to split up into two sections of the dungeon; a calmer part of the club, where there are more intense fights or a more louder part of the club, where the floor you walk in is visibly more rickety and can fall underneath you and cause you to lose health from the fall. Yosuke has to choose between the safer, yet mentally taxing path where he stays in Inaba where he overhears people talking badly about him, or the exciting yet unstable path where he goes to the city.

Naoto - Shirogane Corp.

Naoto wants to be recognized. He wants to be recognized and admired for his intelligence, his wit, his determination. The shadow takes that sentiment and twists it into a vision of him stepping on others to reach the top. His dungeon is a giant office tower, with Shadow Naoto at the top as it’s CEO. Several shadows are locked in their cubicles, with IV drips of coffee being pumped into their system as they slave away in front of a computer. Some of them have the voices of those who look down on actual Naoto, seeing him as a pretentious and arrogant child in the real world. The bathrooms and water coolers are blocked off with laser gates. Naoto’s resentment and desire to be recognized was twisted into a desire to hurt those who hurt him.

I don’t have a good read on either Rise, Kanji, or Yukiko, so I have less of a clear idea of what their dungeons are. Maybe Yukiko could have a ruined dollhouse, with her shadow dressed like a burnt, mistreated Barbie doll, like how Yukiko wants to discard everything associated with her home, destroying it herself.

ur brain gigantic and i lov e u for it. you took shadow naoto as ceo as went 110 with it. ive been chewing on it all day.

also-- even tho it's not what I have in mind- this shadow yoosk is so damn good. I might season mine with a dj flavor now.

[90shetfield]

Rockstars - James Hetfield x F!Y/N

When two legendary bands collaborate the fans' theories appear…James and Y/N are the center of backlash and mystery at their band's new song. The countless articles and media posted by outlets are enough to drive a normal person mad..but how do they deal with it? but are they really that far off?? Do the rumors bring them together or tear them apart?

1996

Another paper with some bull on it, I throw it off to the side. The newspaper falls back on the page I was just frustrated about.

“Hetfield and Y/N Dating or friends?” The bold text displayed on the top of the page followed by a picture of me and James in public. I step on the Paper ruining it in my outrage. Why do people want to pry into our businesses!? We don't do anything to them and yet they still do this just because they feel like it.

Ever since our bands worked together on a song non stop rumors have been circling around about me and James dating. They piss me off every time! We just did one song and did a few interviews together. Nothing gave people a reason to ship us like we’re some sort of Barbie dolls in a playhouse. We’re grown people with our own lives besides our musical endeavors. 

“Someone’s mad huh?” I hear his deep growly voice from behind me. I quickly turn around to see James leaning on the door frame watching my whole fit about the paper. I sigh walking up to him. I met his gaze. The gorgeous blue eyes looking me up and down. He gives a little chuckle still clearly seeing how mad I am wadling over to where he is.

“I can't take these stupid rumors anymore James! We are not Dating!” He knows why I was making such a big deal out of the newspaper now. His lips contort into an “O” shape. He runs his calloused hand through his short dirty blonde hair.

“You have to stop reading into that shit, Y/N we both know it's not true so why let other people judge you for it?” he sounds really reasonable. I sigh, walking back to pick up the damaged newspaper to show him. I hand him the paper so he can see.

“I'm not reading into it when it's shoved in my face 24/7!” His eyes widened at the detail the person went into when writing this. He gets a look of disgust, the blue irises widened.

“See!? I'm not deliberately looking at it. It's everywhere! You don't see Our guitarists or drummers getting this kind of treatment?” I get even more agitated. I pace around in small circles. This is my personal life! Not the world’s and I'm sure James thinks the same right now. He drops the paper back onto the ground shaking his head

“People are weird as hell man, ya can't trust papers like that anymore” he says walking into the room, sitting down on the stiff burgundy couch. This is kind of like a break room in our studio, we all go here to have a beer and joke around about things that make us feel like crap. Y’know like what friends do. My band and Metallica share the same recording building this is where we met back in 94’ and where we decided to work together. Our song went number one in the US for what seemed like forever. Constantly getting recognized and complemented on for the song, I thought it was an amazing opportunity. I still think it is and I don't regret it but the paparazzi and press have made such an enjoyable thing for us burst with hatred and anger.

I sit down next to him. A weird silence over takes us. He steals a quick glance at me before looking away. 

“Yeah uh- i guess we’re not used to it” I roll my eyes trying to confide in him. Me and James have been the closest out of our mates. The frontmen and rhythm guitarist have a lot to relate to each other. I cross my legs, the subtle tension not leaving. Why did we go silent so quickly? I ask myself in my head.

“ it's alright, we both know the truth and that's all that matters” he gives me a goofy smile. I admire his perfectly set features again. Loving the way his muscles on his biceps contract at the movement of his arms. The black dress shirt buttoned down way too low exposing some of his chest hair and his exposed toned flesh. The sound of his cowboy boots tapping on the carpeted floor. The tension leaves my body still looking at his. Ever since Metallica had come out i always loved their music. The heavy downpicking as the dominating and crushing riffs played out. Thrash kings, they deserve that title.  He takes out a cigar rummaging around his pocket for a lighter, eventually finding one he pulls it out lighting the cigar taking a puff off it. The gray cloud evaporates into the air.

“But still it hurts seeing all this about us” I rest my head on his broad shoulders. The scent of musk and wood comes off of his person. It captivates me and oddly wants to bring me closer to him. He puts his arm around me doing exactly what I wanted, bringing me closer to him. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, nothing comes out though. Still that weird silence that we can't seem together over being this close to each other.

“Like i said before Y/N, this isn't our fault and we shouldn't be bothered by it” he squeezes me. I giggle, giving him a playful poke to stop. 

“yeah i guess, sorry i had to bother you about it” I get off of the couch reaching out my arm for him to take. He takes it getting up, our close proximity still not falterning. Our eyes once again meet. He brushes his fingers through my hair, not looking away from my eyes.

“James i-” My words get interrupted by another male voice. This one is more soft and higher pitched.

“Hey I heard you guys were in here and-” Kirk walks into the room stopping dead in his tracks. I back far away from james giving Kirk a death glare. I feel the redness heat up in my cheeks. I look down avoiding both of their gazes feeling extremely embarrasses by this. Me and him were doing nothing! Nothing at all. I shouldn’t be panicking because nothing happened right? Fidgeting with my rings on my fingers usually helps me but even now that wont help. 

“Oh! I did not think you guys were a thing”

“We’re not!” Me and James say at the same time yelling at poor Kirk. He has a look of confusion like were lying straight to his face. He raises an eyebrow at us not beliving the actual truth.

“We dont like eachother like that kirk, its just professional thats all!” I reassure him trying to not make attention to this. I dont want the rest of our bandmates to see us making a scene like this and blabbering to the people around them, that will definitely he;lp our case about the rumors.

“Yeah i believe you..what am i an idiot!? Its clear you guys have a thing for eachother but dont want to admit it” He looks at us with a stern expression “I dont care that much because its not my business, i was just wondering if you guys wanted to come with me and Lani to dinner”

“Dinner? Like today?” he nods “We got booked for this really lavish restaurant and we have two seats open for you and james that is if you want to go?” 

I get the courage to look at james, he shrugs his shoulders kicking his feet with his hands in his jeans pocket.

“I mean i could go it depends on what the princess wants to do” He smirks teasing me. My brows furrow at his stupid remark. Princess? Really? Since when did he call me princess? I click my jaw grunting to myself. 

“The princess will go if her servents going” I eye him.  Pilfering his smirk to my face. God that look of utter despair makes me want to laugh at him so bad.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A couple of hours later…..

I look at the clock as I'm finishing up getting ready for the outing. It's not a date. Me and James and Kirk and his…wife… okay maybe it's a date!

I Put on my necklace the metal glistening in the dull light of my apartment. I sigh giving my dress a tug. The sage green dress falls all the way to my ankles hugging me tightly. The v neckline surrounded by intricate forest green lace with white beads scattered on it. The tool coming to the floor from my waistline. I do a quick twirl feeling so enchanted in the dress, like im a disney princess.

I Hear a knock at the door, its probably james. I eagerly open it. Theres james in an all black suit with golden cuffs. Holding a buquet of flowers. Specifically red and white roses some of my favorite flowers also my favorite scent to put on. I take them from his hands feeling a sense of awe. He didn’t need to do this and yet? He still did. I smell them loving the scent. I walk into my kitchen, he follows me in as i put a vase out to plop the roses into.

“You look really beautiful tonight Y/N..that dress really suits you.” He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Thank you James uh- you look really good too. Very dashing" He smiles bowing In Front of me. his hand on his heart

“Only the best for m’lady” he reaches his hand out grabbing mine. “This is so stupid” He mutters to himself as i giggle

“Aww don't stop, you're so cute like this! I have my own knight in shining armor huh?” His smile never fades. He nods taking me out of my apartment 

~

“So Kirk and Lani couldn’t make it?” He opens the door for the restaurant  letting me go in. The smell of herbs fills my nostrils. The marble detailing on the ceiling with a gigantic painting. The lights on each of the tables glow with a warm tone, crystals adoring them. The rustic pillars separate us from the luxury dining hall. Members of the high class and their spouses are seen sitting in almost every single seat eating high quality food. The waiters dressed in black suits with a white undershirt and freshly combed and slick back hair deliver even more of the food to each and every one table.

“Nope they had plans i guess” He responds not making eye contact with me. We approached the host. He eyes us thinking why some rock stars are here to eat. Probably assuming we’re gonna trash the place throwing drugs and alcohol everywhere because that's a positive stereotype of us!

“Hi we have a reservation under the name Hetfield” He tells the man. The glare doesn't go away at all. Wait did' Kirk say he made the reservation? Then why is it James' name?

“Ah yes right here sir” His professional tone leads just into the dining  hall. I feel all the dirty looks and scowls coming from the high and mighty. I ignore them just wanting to sit down and eat. The host shows us a table for two pulling out our chairs so we can sit. Me and James both sit down. The host is gone in one second already helping the next set of guests to their spot.

“Wow isn't this awso-”

“James” I cut him off in a condescending tone. “Kirk and Lani were never coming, right? You set all this up so me and you can be alone huh? Kirk was your wingman? “ James’s eyes widened before he turned his head  away from me avoiding my gaze. I see the slightest hint of blush on his cheeks. He shakes his head laughing.

“You caught me, damn it. I thought this would have worked out” He looks back at me softening his features.

“That would have worked on a groupie not me..but its sweet thank you for taking me out” I put my hand on his, interlocking our fingers. I lean in giving him a quick but meaningful kiss on the lips. He just sits there slack jawed. I lift his chin up with my pointer finger

“Your quite a charmer hetfield, i like that in a man”

“Im glad im the man in front of you then”

“I'm glad too” The waiter approaches us asking for our drinks and yet me and James still never look away from each other. Our relationship will never be professional again. (and Thank God)

MEOWWWW!! This shit is not my best work but whatever! Reqs are open!! Please request things I cant think of shit all on my own!! Sorry if its shit I'm still kind of a new writer so~ Ty for reading!! ILYSMMMM

-MAXINE

[helpfandom]

Headcanons for platonic yandere Ken from the Barbie movie?

I've been looking for an excuse to do him since I watched it again. Thanks. <3

WHOO! okay so this man is a mess. He is a yandere already. Think about it.

Anyway! So, He would likely meet you either at the school, or out and about on the street. Honestly, I personally like the idea of him finding Reader picking up a Ken doll at the store to buy him, and he gets attached that way, but...

Ken is a very selfish Yandere. He RUINED Barbie's life so that he could 'get the girl'.

He does truly care for you. He probably tricks you into following him to BarbieLand {Barbie-Land? Barbie Land? Help me out here /hj} by asking about things you like, and then saying that he knows a place of imagination with those same interest [even if Barbie Land doesn't have them, he'll find them and bring it back to Barbie-Land.]

After he introduces Patriarchy to the rest of the Ken[s], he goes straight to you, who is a little disoriented because everything switched and now Barbie who you love so very much is ... bimbo-ified?

He has no qualms with using KenLand Logic against you, well, of course you can't go through the walls, they're walls {even though they are see through / aren't there, it's Doll Logic.}

None of the other dolls help you since... well, Barbie[s] out of commission, and the other Ken[s] look up to Ken so...

Your best bet would be to try and manipulate Ken [the other one, not Blond Ken] into going in a 'beach off?', it doesn't quite make sense to you, because everything's all so new and why are the barbies like this and why does he insist on something called 'patriarchy' and that he's your dad now?

You could also try to go to the human world through the way you came through, but it wouldn't make sense because you keep doing it, and you still don't end up in the human world. [Because you would Roller Skates first instead of Car.]

It's all so confusing.

I truly do believe that he would chase out all the un-brainwashed Barbies so that he could have you, especially since Barbie would try to help you, and since Barbie keeps trying to ruin Ken's life, he can just drive them out by law.

One of the few yandere's where escape is PHYSICALLY impossible, but simply because once you're in Kenland. You're stuck in Kenland.

Never the less, Ken ruined helped Barbie's life, why can't he just make your life better? After all, he's your dad now! Kenland is your home now.

[risetherivermoon]

heres another bunch of random specific dndads headcanons, this time its teen addition! ft. Hermie, D00d and Hero

- After everything was done and solved Lincoln and Normal remade the yellow bracelets from early s1, now they're braided friendship bracelets

- Taylor has surprisingly never broken a bone

- Normal took gymnastics before getting into Mascot stuff,

- Scary makes Terry Jr. drive her to hot topic and makes him wait outside while she takes like four hours (terry is just happy shes kinda spending time with him)

- Lincoln has a photographic memory

- In elementary school Taylor tried to hide Cassandra's kitchen knives all around the house 'for survival and easy weapon access.' she still finds random knives around the house

- Hermie did ballet

- Whenever Scary is ACTUALLY mad at any of the other teens she will just call them by their full name instead of either a nickname or an insult, (ex. instead of Linc, Tay, Herm, or Norm; Normally, Taylor, Lincoln, and Herman)

- Scary/Terri's favorite food used to be baked potatoes, but Terry ruined it for her bc they had it in common

- D00d thought Hermie was just some weird guy that walked around and stalked the teens without saying anything, for like...a while, because of how much they all forgot about them

- Hermie was genderless and built like a barbie/ken doll (goofs are beyond gender)

- Lincoln was such a lonely kid when he was younger that he'd make sculptures and give them names and talk to them, notably he had a sculpture of a soccer ball he called Soccie (sock-e)

- Scary has a collection of monster energy cans, especially after everything had happened, she would drink energy drinks to not go to sleep in the paranoid fear she'd meet willy again

- Normal has an extra toe

- Taylor has a life times supply of pocky

- Lincoln makes way too much eye contact

- Hero worked at Swallows Ice Cream part time before switching to the pizza delivery job

- Hermie would have never admitted it out loud but he preferred Teen High's theatre program to Chapperal

- Normal has made and ordered so much Teeny the Teen merch that he cannot do anything without something having Teenys face on it

- D00d tried to make friends with Lark at one point, it was not successful not because Lark got mad at them, but his anti-social behavior (he has never made a friend before in his life) mixed with his fear of the doodler lead him to just kind of try to ignore them

- At one point Hermie had a big cartoonish hammer that they would smack Normal's head with whenever they thought it was funny (the hammer felt like getting hit with a balloon)

- Hero convinced Normal he was adopted like ten different times growing up, Sparrow would usually be the one to have to calm him down

- Scary cut up one of her Mom's dresses to wear for herself at one point and after everything was resolved Veronica randomly asked Scary if she'd seen the dress and Scary said the dog ate it (they don't have a dog)

- Lincoln admitted at one point that he'd never had a slurpee before so all the teens went and got them and he had such a bad brain freeze that he started crying

[astralnino]

Rivals to Lovers - Ken X Reader [PT 1]

it takes place in Barbieland, has some overlapping events but doesn't exactly sync w/ the movie. In this AU, Kens have houses too (I won't do them dirty 😤)

Also for your reading convenience, I'll be calling Ken#2 (Simu Liu's Ken) Kenneth, and Ryan's Ken#1 will stay Ken. enjoy, loves! 💗

feisty ken x sensitive reader / tw: kissing also PART 2 IS OUT!

1.13k Words <3

It's another beautiful, perfect day in Barbieland. You wake up early in the morning, feeling rejuvenated and excited, for you were finally making the big move to your bestie Kenneth's neighborhood! You're basically trembling with excitement as they load the last of your pink boxes into the pink truck which is ready to leave the pink gates of Rosedale, your previous neighborhood. You get in the front seat of your pink Jeep Gladiator and wave to your friends as you drive off into the sunset, into Barbieville!

You look in awe at the promenade, bustling with so many Barbies, and they all look at you with wide eyes. It was the first time many of them were setting their eyes on a Limited Edition Barbie. The 'Y/n L/n Limited Edition Classy Barbie', was released based on a design made by the daughter of the CEO of Mattel.

You were basically a celebrity in Barbieland, and you were pretty good at handling all the attention, good and bad, which came along with it. You park your truck behind the pink truck, out of which a few Helper Barbies are taking your furniture and items and moving them into your new dreamhouse. You walk out of your Jeep to be swarmed by a whole lot of Barbies, all of them saying Hi and asking for autographs. You couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed, but you take a few deep breaths and wave to all of them, and start signing a few arms, Jerseys and a couple of Beach Shorts. Nothing out of the ordinary.

As you're signing the various articles, out of the corner of your eye, you notice a small commotion, two Kens and a few Barbies. You roll your eyes, brushing it off, until you realize that one of those Kens was - your bestfriend and crush Kenneth. As soon as it hits you, you apologetically hand over a half signed cap to the Ken it belonged to and promised everyone autographs at the 'Welcome to the New Neighbourhood Party' Kenneth was hosting for you, before sprinting towards the sandy beach.

Infront of you, you see Kenneth and another Ken squaring up. Your gaze lingers upon the other Ken, who looks pretty... agitated. Pretty agitated. He had the average blonde hair, a perfect jawline and brown, kind of dreamy eyes which currently looked dark and stormy- Your train of thought was interrupted by Kenneth who was getting a bit too aggressive. He looked cute, as always, but you quickly step in along with a blonde Barbie wearing a Pink checked dress, acting as a barricade between the two disconcerted dolls. The Stereotypical Barbie appears to brush her hand against Kenneth's thigh, but you're sure it was an accident so you let it be.

As soon as he recognizes you, he looks startled. "Y/n- You're here- it's been so long since I've seen you..". You run forward and hug him, and he awkwardly pats your back. Again, you notice the blonde Barbie stare at you two, with a glint of jealousy in her eyes.. but it was cleverly masked with a forced but pretty smile.

"Hey Kennethh, how've you been?" You exclaim although you two spoke over call just last night, a little blush creeping up your cheeks. Just as he's about to answer, Ken rolls his eyes and clears his throat, a mellow but burning rage still in his eyes, effectively ruining your moment.

"What's your problem man.." you mutter under your breath, but the Blondie hears you. "What's my problem you ask? Your tall and han- Your boyfriend is annoying me for no good reason, ask him to back off now." he replies, looking somewhat flustered. Taking a few steps forward, you stand close to him.. very close. You look up at him, and he looks down back at you, his face turning a light shade of pink.

You look straight into his eyes and asks him "What if I don't?" You feel his quick, warm breaths on your supple skin.

He eyes you up and down, thinking for a moment, then he pushes you to the floor, effectively creating a situation where you're under him. You feel your cheeks warming up, and you see him smirk. "Try standing up for your boyfriend now, why don't you?"

Your eyes lock for a second, and you feel something... something new, something intense, but you realise that you're out in the open- OH GOD, what will people think!? You quickly avert your eyes, and again, you notice Kenneth with Barbie.. only this time they appear to be bickering, but slowly move closer.. and closer. You don't get enough time to process this, because Ken is getting off of you and storming towards them both, fists clenched tightly and feet stomping, spewing sand all over you and a few picnic blankets on the sandy floor.

Just as he's about to do something, you see Kenneth push him over to the side, tugging on your hand, and the other Barbie quietly apologises, looking deeply into Kenneth's eyes with an almost lovestruck look and drags the other Ken away. What the hell was going on?

"Who does that asshole think he is?!" You shake your head and start complaining, walking off in the other direction with Kenneth, who starts giving you a tour of his neighbourhood. Even though you know most of the places here, you smile, masking your sadness and longing, and walk with him, feeling happy to be bantering with your favourite person.

After he gave you a detailed tour of Barbieville, he left to "prepare for the party" and "attend to urgent matters". You decide to explore on your own and start walking home to get ready for the party, which had already started. You knew this by seeing the heavily lit up, awfully loud house at the end of the street. To make up for lost time, you speed up, accidentally stumblling into a dark figure, who was.. sniffling?

"I'm so sorry, let me help you up-" you reach out for the Ken who was now on the floor, and instead of stretching his arm out, he looks up at you, and you see Aggressive-Beach-Ken with red and puffy eyes. He looked so vulnerable, so upset, so angry- he looked broken.. An emotion you were unfamiliar with, but his eyes spoke a thousand words.

He slowly got up, and looked dead into your eyes. "W-why couldn't you keep a hold on your boyfriend..?" He says the word 'boyfriend' with so much contempt, it sounds like an insult more than a label. "What do you mean? And he isn't my boyfriend... well not yet. I was hoping to confess to him toda-" Ken bursts out laughing, you could almost hear a hint of insanity in his chortle.

All of a sudden, his face goes blank, expressionless. This scares you. He grabs you by the arm and drags you along quickly. You protest and ask him to leave your hand, but he just kept speeding up, and you had to run to keep up. You were nearing the party, and you were pissed of at Ken because your outfit wasn't pretty enough for the party, and well, you didn't have any makeup on. He dragged you through the gates and when you finally stop bickering with him, you look straight at the spotlight. You let out a small gasp.

Kenneth was kissing the Stereotypical Barbie from earlier.

You make eye contact with your crush, and he chuckles and waves. You suddenly feel your eyes getting moist, and then wet. Water pours down from your small, glassy eyes. Kenneth was confused and started walking in your direction, until Stereotypical Barbie pulled him back in, making out again.

"Guess you lost your chance, Barbie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: OKAY OKAY, I'M SRY THAT THERE WAS NO MAJOR KENxREADER MOMENTS HERE, BUT HEAR ME OUT- This post would be wayyy too long, and I'd rather not bore y'all with too many petty details.. I'll make it more fast paced and steamy next chapter. THAT'S RIGHT! EDIT: PART 2 IS HERE! AHHH YAY: PART 2 Thanks for reading guys! Leave a comment, follow or reblog, anything motivates me to keep trying ;o; STAY PINK!