#magicheels

[malibuskipper]

"   did   you   read   that   out   of   some   motivational   handbook?   "   pushing   headphones   back   from   her   ears   as   attention   tunes   into   the   blonde.   of   course   when   your   favorite   artists   drops   a   new   album,   this   is   the   time   barbie   decides   to   become   a   sermon!           so   practical   of   her!           "   if   that's   the   advice   you're   giving,   i   wouldn't   elect   you   to   be   the   next   tedtalk   speaker.   "

“why not spread your wings and fly?” [ @magicheels

[cultfic]

⎯ @magicheels, barbie roberts : “ you shouldn’t smoke, you know ”

❝  yeah, that's good advice if you're tom ryder. i'm just the stunt guy. statistics say i'm ninety-nine percent more likely to die on the job than smoking one of these. so y'know. it's whatever.  ❞ he's still bitter about missing jody. this karaoke party's lost its spark when she left but in the spirit of nursing his latest bruises, he'll stick around long enough to finish that bottle. the company's a welcome reprieve too, reminds him it's not just jody's career that's on the line, that everyone else involved in the movie might lose a lot more than a simple paycheck if the whole thing is sabotaged. a sigh as he releases the smoke, turns to barbie. ❝  you been in the acting business long?  ❞

[unholywood]

Sit .  ( gesture  for  my  muse  to  sit  down ) for Poison Ivy!

𝔐. ⑊ humidity is mild in the flesh, dense as the amazon; wild curls of viciously contrasted anthocyanins in red. we have lived in worlds curated similarly— surrealism as a pacification of the overgrowth. like all women, parmila thinks, we outgrow the confines & live in them, too. paradoxical beings; but a woman? she'll obey, seating herself in less exerted obedience & mindfully eyeing the blonde.

“ don't you think men are bullshit? if women could find a way to procreate together, we wouldn't need them, ” misandry in jest (mostly). we are idols of male greed & intoxication. the love interest, the femme fatale, the ideal; play pretend! placate yourself to a kindness of accessibility— “ i love women, it must seem like i'm trying to figure that out, ” spoken in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.

[calientas]

Well, aren't you a beauty?

‘ AW... aren't you sweet? ’ nina grins, preening at the compliment from her fellow fashion friend. ‘ guess it takes one to know one, huh? ’

★ ACCEPTING.

[005198]

Patch! (Sender patches up receiver's wounds.)

          honeybee was lucky to have only gotten a scratch.     though she’d gotten a lot better at skating,   even she was not immune to the occasional slip and fall.     honeybee had on her knee-pads but like a fool,   she’d forgotten her elbow pads…     ouch.     it doesn’t hurt,   really.     but maybe not the most fun reminder.     thankfully her pink-clad friend had come to the rescue with a colorful band-aid!          “   thanks,   barbie.     i’ll try to be more careful next time.   “

[saintvampe]

—   𝐌.   |  HERE IS A COMPREHENSIVE LOOK AT THIS WOMAN: she has created herself from dust itself, a godhood invented and imagined. she has spun divinity on its side as if it were a coin. she has spun herself into a virginal saint, virginal in that she is her own predecessor. there is no one before or after her. she is, she was, she always will be. there is comfort in this never - changing nature, a feverous dislike of change, a lack of need for the stuff. it troubles her as an allergy. it makes her nervous, unsure. there is sterility found in the staticity of her four walls, of her atmosphere, that cannot and is not found in this separate environment. they meet in a quiet restaurant, some nouveau - french cuisine, late - evening.

THE SAINT ( ! ) ORDERS SOMETHING MEATY, RAW. her fork picks at the meal as if it were still living, and she wishes it were. across from her, an explosion of brightness [ pink, pink, pink ! ] speaks in an animated fashion; the vampiristic woman turns herself human and practices holding onto every word. she's made up a problem for this meeting: work is the same as ever, tedious and rudimentary. I bore of the same old - same old, Seraphina begins... the woman across from her reaches over, places an understanding hand atop the Saint's, demonstrates a figure of understanding.

the woman [ @magicheels ] clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. the pad of her thumb stokes opposite hand, tender and full of care. she speaks sweeter than sweet: ❝  i don’t want you to be lost. i don’t want you to be stuck. i just want you to be free, and joyous, and buoyant.   ❞ ... and the Saint ( ! ) fights back a grin, a vile laugh.

the pink meat on her plate is stabbed with the fork in her hand. the vampiristic woman brings it to her mouth, red against silver, her brown gaze shifting from past the other to directly at her. there is a moment of thinking, a pause pregnant with its own silence.

❝  oh, darling ( ... ) perhaps being lost is part of the journey. [ HERE, SHE PAUSES, TAKES ANOTHER BITE OF HER MEAL. ] i am destined for greatness, you know... i welcome any static motion, if it leads to something bigger. ❞

[tanthalo]

⤳   @magicheels​​​​, asked:     ‹ princess kit tanthalos ?   oh my god ,   oh my god - ›

with that classic, crooked smile, she holds out her arms for a moment - half bowing, half presenting herself in a sort of yup – that i am! type of gesture. she'll let this go to her head, probably much to jade's annoyance. “ the one and only. daughter of queen sorsha, uh, princess of tir asleen. ” sports a little bit of a lingering smirk as she speaks, bit proud of herself. “ at your serv- um, in your – at your – [ by now the smirk is faded, hands folding behind her back as she suddenly finds herself a bit caught in the net of her own words ] no, uh ... pleasure to meet you. ”

[cendrilons]

❛ Hold still. This might sting a little. ❜

ʼ ugh―! ʼ cendrillon tries not to flinch too much, though the aforementioned 'stinging' felt a bit stronger than implied. being a self-proclaimed superhero is tough! one of her foes had managed to snag her a little with some pocket knife, though thankfully the cut was only skin-deep. ʻ thanks, angel. sometimes this vigilante shit is a nightmare. ʼ

[dazzali]

❝ you’ll be fine! ❞

@magicheels liked for a one-liner!

[vdwoodsen]

" this is the coolest thing i've done in a while. "

she laughs, wide grin of pearly teeth displayed as she looks through the rearview mirror of barbie's sparkling pink car. when serena was a child, she used to love pink, but then her mother said neon pink was tacky and so for years, serena didn't wear it. then, she reached fifteen, and she wore a bubblegum pink mess to cotillion -- it was the best moment of her whole year, even if she was high at the moment and could barely speak without twitching her jaw. the stares, the murmurs, the sideway glances at how low her neckline was - it was worth it.

taking a roadtrip down california's highways with barbie roberts is kind of like wearing that pink dress to cotillion while high -- it's exicting, pumps her with adrenaline; it makes her feel alive. maybe it's the way she stands in the convertible and screams at the top of her lungs while music blasts in the stereo, maybe it makes her feel that same rush.

" you were right, i really needed this, " she settles back on the passenger's seat, the bandana she wears on her hair would be considered a fashion crime according to blair, but she likes how it looks with her white shorts, " and thanks for letting me borrow one of your tops. i haven't worn pink in forever. " @magicheels ft. barbie roberts.

[magicearring]

“   maybe  some  music  will  help  you  calm  down .   ” @magicheels

He was sure any minute now that his heart would leap from his chest and sprint into the ocean — the navy tide swallowing the shore in front of them, only illuminated by the perfect, full moon in the sky.

Perfect, it was always perfect. There were no half moons, no waxing or waning, no crescents or gibbous where they were. For a split second, memories flashed in his consciousness, he was so sure he could remember a half moon, sometime, somewhere, back when...

"Maybe some music will help calm you down," her voice ran down his spine, warm treacle. Meeting her gaze, Barbie's glassy eyes seemed serious, but so comforting all at once.

"Yeah," he agreed, the first time he's spoken in what's felt like an hour. Barbie knew something was wrong, as Ken always had a way to fill the silence, sometimes to a fault. He continued, "I don't want to listen to the radio. It's always the same songs." He could hear them, repeat them, in his sleep if he wanted.

His lips flexed, pursed, and then frowned. There was something about being with Barbie, no matter how he felt, he knew she was the only person who understood. She had been through this all before anyway ; shown him the catharsis of pain, grief, and consciousness. The first night they had talked, he had resented her for bringing it all to light. Panicking in the mirror, trying to find just one imperfect hair, or a single crack in the sidewalk, he remembered the exhaustion that overtook his whole body from sobbing. He scorned her for making him realize there was no escape.

From the grief came desperation and from that begot his greatest ally. No longer the one who had ripped reality from his grip, but the one who had offered him a new home. Purged from his own perfection by the one who he thought captured its very definition, she offered a comfort and meaning he could never find in any book, any song, any painting, or any play...

Suddenly finding his nose nuzzled in the crook of her neck, he whispered.

"Could you sing something?"

[tetrylia]

⠀⠀ [ X ] @magicheels.

⠀⠀ ❛❛ Precious boy. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˡᶤᶠᵉ ! ❜❜

[vlentyne]

“   stay  by  my  side .   ” says @magicheels

" christ, you're such a fucking pain. "

huff of indignation exhales through painted lips as they advance through the empty corridor ( faye cannot tell if it's the deathly silence of the building or the smell of moss and humidity and garbage and piss, but she wishes to get the fuck out as soon as possible ). as used as she is to running from police forces, she now has a heavy load dripping pink and glitter clinging to her, which makes the situation considerably stickier.

" listen, blondie, i'm not gonna be there to watch your back forever, " she exhales through her nostrils the moment they reach a turn on the abandoned building, a wall adorned with graffitti to the right, a continuation of the corridor to the left. faye does not hesitate, and simply drags the blonde woman by the arm, " the moment the coast is clear, i'm ditching this place and blowing gas to the east coast. i dunno your plans, but if i were you, i'd try to find your candy hot boytoy and get as far away from here as possible. your pretty face's gonna be on every wanted poster in town. "

[crofter]

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭. her over-eccentrics entwined with bold pinks and pastels, bound with lara's thrusted ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒᶰᵉˢ of black and white ( literature students would have a field day with us. ) she seems to be a little disoriented, a snide remark residing in croft's mind that wishes to be let out: to her, having to surround yourself with reloaded opacity 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 make you a little unfocused. it's there that she decides to be ᵃ ˡᶤᵗᵗˡᵉ friendlier, extending a hand to help her break the ice. there's a coy smile that dances upon nude lips, matte & certainly not 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 like the blonde's, but she'd be lying if she said she doesn't enjoy the whole "opposites attract" charm they seem to be oozing. plus, it's not like the gloss that coats her velvets prevents the brunette from merely admiring.

❛❛ they don't actually work. it's just a thing for the tourists, y'know, 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐬. i'm 𝔩𝔞𝔯𝔞, by the way where are you from anyway? ❜❜ there's a sudden lightbulb, or more like a warning sign, a siren blaring in her mind. she's invited an ᵒᵖᵖᵒʳᵗᵘᶰᶤᵗʸ for a lengthy vent session, and as much as she'd like to hear about the world of bright pastels & the 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 shade of blonde, she has a lead to follow. @magicheels.

[frederickjones]

  ❛     oh,   hi   barbie  !     ❜     𝗌͟𝗎͟𝗇͟𝗌͟𝖾͟𝗍͟   settles  in  as  a   bubblegum  pop  soundtrack  blares  from  the  poolside  speakers.   he's  wired  on  𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐞,  so  drowsy  that   s͟h͟a͟g͟g͟y͟  offered  to   tape  his  eyelids  open  ﹙  which  he  actually  considered  going  through  with  for  a  solid  two  seconds   ﹚.   

truth  be  told,  if  he  had  no   self  control,  he  would  have  slumped  himself  over  one  of  the  tables...  but  it's  a  friend's  event  ! and,  well,  if  he  did      —    d͟a͟p͟h͟n͟e͟  would  give  him  a  stern  talking  to.       ❛      thank  you  for  inviting  the  gang  and  i    !      it's  a  nice  change  of  pace  from  all  the  𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘  and  𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘.    ❜         his  voice  is  sleepy,  a  yawn  trying  to  escape  him  the  more  he  speaks.

⋆      ˚  〜 ₊   ✿      ˖             @magicheels           ♡

[judoletteflip]

" oh my gosh, cute and practical ! i'm so in love. "

@magicheels *  ♡