#pearl kingsley | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pupsmailbox · 8 months ago

Text

NATURE ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ abelia. acacius. aciano. aini. alder. alfie. almus. amaryllis. ame. antonio. archer. arthur. ashe. ashley. aspen. asper. aster. aveline. aviv. azalea. basil. belle. benedict. berry. bloom. blossom. bluebell. brook. calix. calla. carli. carline. carly. carolina. carrillo. cassia. cassiopeia. cedar. cherie. chun. cider. cira. cirrus. clover. coral. cordelia. crescent. cynthia. cypress. cyrus. dahlia. daisy. daphne. douglas. dune. echo. eilir. elara. elm. elowen. elyana. enon. erica. ester. everest. everett. evergreen. ewan. fauna. fern. finn. finnley. fleur. floor. flora. florian. florise. flower. flynn. forest. forrest. glen. gracie. gunner. haru. haruhime. haruki. hawthorne. heather. hemlock. honey. hyacinth. ianthe. indigo. ione. ipomea. iris. ivy. jaskier. jasmine. jasper. juniper. kalina. kallie. karolina. karoun. kath. kelda. ken. kingsley. lake. lavae. lavender. leilani. lennox. lente. lief. lilac. lily. linnea. lotus. lucinda. lucky. lucy. maayan. madeline. maggie. magnolia. maple. maren. mari. marian. marigold. mars. mary. maud. mauve. meadow. miles. momo. moss. mossie. mossy. moxie. muna. narcisow. nimbus. noi. oak. oasis. oleander. oybahor. pandora. pearl. pebble. pege. petal. plum. poppy. pınar. quanlian. quill. river. rosa. rosalie. rosalind. rose. roswell. rue. rune. saem. sage. sakura. san. sky. sol. star. story. strider. striker. summit. sunny. sylvia. sylvie. tasnim. terra. thistle. thorn. thorne. tree. udaberri. vasanta. verna. violet. waipuna. wells. westley. willow. wisteria. wisty. wren. yuki. zephyr. ziedonis. zinnia.

PRONOUNS ⌇ amaranth/amaranth. aster/aster. bee/bee. bee/bees. bless/blessed. bloom/bloom. bloss/bloss. bloss/blossomself. bud/bud. camell/camell. camellia/camellia. carnati/carnation. chirp/chirp. ci/cir. cloud/cloud. colum/columbine. columbine/columbine. comfort/comfort. dais/daisy. dawn/dusk. dew/dew. dog/dogwood. dog/wood. ey/em. fe/fer. fer/fern. fern/fern. field/field. fir/fir. fleur/fleur. flor/flor. flor/flora. floral/floral. flori/florid. flow/flower. flower/flower. freesi/freesia. fruit/fruit. fuch/fuchsia. garden/garden. grass/grass. green/green. grow/growth. hawth/hawthorn. hawth/thorn. hi/hits. hib/hibiscus. honey/honey. hy/hys. hya/hyacinth. hyacin/hyacinth. h✦/h✦m. ir/iris. jas/jasmine. jessa/jessamine. jour/ney. laven/lavender. le/leaf. leaf/leaf. leaf/leave. lil/lily. lotu/lotus. lu/luna. mag/magnolia. mar/mar. matcha/matcha. misel/mistletoe. mo/moth. morning/morning. moss/moss. mossy/mossy. narc/narcir. narcissus/narcissus. nature/nature. orch/orchid. pe/peony. peace/peace. peak/peak. per/peri. peri/periwinkle. petal/petal. pi/pix. picnic/picnic. plum/plum. pollen/pollen. pop/poppy. prick/prick. pur/purple. qu/quest. rain/rain. rhod/rhode. ros/rose. rose/rose. sa/sap. sage/sage. sakura/sakura. scent/scent. se/ser. shine/shine. shroom/shroom. sh✦/h✦r. si/strike. smile/smile. soft/soft. sol/solar. spikes/spike. spring/spring. sprout/sprout. star/star. stem/stem. sun/sun. sun/sunrise. sun/sunset. syr/syringa. tea/party. tea/tea. thist/thistle. thorn/thorn. th✦y/th✦m. tul/tulip. vi/vier. vi/viol. wi/wild. win/winkle. wind/wind. wister/wisteria. yucca/yucca. zinni/zinnia. ☀️ . 🌱 . 🌳 . 🌷 . 🌿 . 🍎 . 🍏 . 🍵 . 🐝 . 🐞 . 💐 . 💐.🌷 . 🕷️ . 🦋 . 🦟 .

#pupsmail︰id packs #id pack #npt #name suggestions #name ideas #name list #pronoun suggestions #pronoun ideas #pronoun list #neopronouns #nounself #emojiself #naturekin #naturecore #cottagecore #forestcore

89 notes · View notes

marigold-hills · 4 months ago

Text

Dunes & Waters, part 38

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

The Wizarding counterparts of Egypt’s libraries and museums are connected by a network of cupboard-like structures. Remus goes into the confined space at the Aswan library, takes a deep, unhappy breath, closes the door behind himself, and comes out the other side in Cairo, where he waits for Sirius to do the same.

They meet with Kingsley for dinner. None of them enjoy it, Kingsley too busy watching SIrius like he’d explode any moment, Sirius entertaining himself by riling him up, and Remus trying to juxtapose the need to hold his hand on Sirius’ thigh under the table with the last time the three of them sat together.

Remus tries, but it’s obvious he’s not as subtle about it as he wished to be when Kingsley turns to him when Sirius excuses himself from the table.

“I thought you had more brains than that, Remus.”

“You know… a couple months ago I would have agreed with you. Now I think this is the smartest thing I could have done.”

“Really? He’s a convict. Violent. Absolute pain in my arse.”

“Another month and he’ll be a free man.”

This stops Kingsley mid-rant. “A month? Really?”

“Think so. Feel so. There’s something about the Box, since it opened. It resonates.”

“Do you need to be relieved from the project?”

Remus recoils. “You’re kidding, right? This is my research. I did the translation and I did the spells. No way am I letting someone else take over now.”

Hands raised in surrender, “sorry, sorry. Just keep in mind that it’s an option, if something was to go awry.”

“It’s not, anyway. Not an option, I mean. It has to be a certain voice, to open it up. You know what I mean.”

They stay the night at a hotel, small, shabby affair on the outskirts of the city, with two single beds in the room they push together to make one. They hold each other over the divot between them.

Nobody’s in the room when they use the Pensieve, a stipulation Remus gave Kingsley when setting up the agreement for them. “This thing we do, it has to be kept under wraps. Not everyone is pleased that research into werewolves is being done, and more so that it’s being done by a werewolf,” he told a confused Sirius. “I’ve had some issues with it in the past, when the Prophet ran a story about an old project of mine. There is the werewolf anti-defamation league who thought that I somehow cheapened the mythology by looking into it. And some of my colleagues… well, never mind. Suffice to say I’d rather not repeat the mistake.”

It’s a well-lit room, made of stone, with the Pensieve on a dial in the middle. Remus removes an enchanted pouch from his pocket, one that opens only for his touch, and removes the vial from it.He tips the not-liquid into the Pensieve where it swirls, pearl-white and shimmering. Looks to Sirius. “Ready?” A nod, a reached out hand. They tip forward.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

@arasael

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #fanfic #dead gay wizards #remus x sirius #marauders era #dunes and waters #moony x padfoot #padfoot x moony #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius x lupin #remus loves sirius #moony #padfoot

35 notes · View notes

whinlatter · 1 year ago

Note

I need to know how you think Ginny or Hp characters in general reacted to the death of Princess Diana. She died right before Ginny left for Hogwarts her 6th year. I know wizards aren’t into muggle culture but Lady Di transcends cultural barriers. Plus that trio looking for the queens purse advert is definitely canon.

i did not expect this ask, and i regret to inform you my response to it was to write the following incredibly stupid ficlet about ginny and the death of princess diana. don't ask me why i did this because i don't know!

The last day of August 1997, she comes downstairs in her dressing gown and finds Kingsley in the kitchen with a Muggle newspaper that says that Princess Diana is dead. ‘Car crash,’ he says, pushes the paper across the table. No-one’s shared news of any sort with her in weeks - the only child and non-Order member of the house, at best an irrelevance and at worse a nuisance for the crumbling wartime resistance - so she forgets about the kettle she's just boiled and sits down, snatches up the paper, reads hungrily. High speed car chase, it says, Diana and her boyfriend, in a tunnel in Paris, being chased down by paparazzi. ‘I met her once,’ says Kingsley, musingly, sipping his tea.

She looks up. ‘Really?’

‘Mmm. With the Muggle PM.’

‘What was she like?’

Kingsley thinks about it. ‘Funny,’ he says. ‘But sad.’

She hangs on to the paper. When she’s inevitably ousted from the kitchen by the arrival of yet more Order folk with important business and no trace of interest in her, she takes it up to her room, clears a space on the floor between the maps of the castle she's been memorising and her now dog-eared copy of The Dark Arts Outsmarted and flattens it out on the floor. The Muggle pictures of the princess, of course, don’t move. Yet Diana manages to always be in motion in the photographs, full of life, running and dancing and gallivanting, long legs stretching across roads or dangling off the end of great boats, her speeding across ocean waves on what looks like a water motorbike or down steep snowy slopes on bits of wood with poles in her hands. She's forced to hoist Crookshanks up and out of the way when he tries to paw his way across the pull-out spread of Diana in her wedding dress. 'You used to live with Muggles sometimes, didn't you?’ she demands of a squirming Crookshanks. ‘Show a bit of respect.'

She’d known about the princess before, of course. Hard to avoid her, even among wizards. The Muggleborn girls had started it, tacking up endless pictures of her many outfits on their walls. Their better-blooded peers had followed, and she’d thought even the Slytherins would be unable to deny there was a magic, a magnetism, to Diana, in fabulous dresses one day and the coolest of boyish suits the next, all draped off of her long, lean frame with an effortless elegance that most of the awkward adolescent girls of the castle could only dream of. There was a time, in the run-up to the Yule Ball, when you couldn’t move for pictures of that dress. ‘It’s her revenge dress,’ Lavender had informed her matter-of-factly at dinner, ‘because her husband cheated on her with a married woman he’d been in love with years before.’ An off-the-shoulder slinky black number with the chunky pearl necklace, the dress had been the envy of every witch in the castle. ‘I’d definitely pull Diggory if I had that dress,’ a sixth-year girl had lamented to her mates over the sinks in the fifth-floor girls’ bathroom the next day.

That evening, her own dress from her mother had arrived. She’d sent for it, when Neville had asked her to the ball, bestowing upon her the dubious honour of being the second most pitying girl in all of Gryffindor. It’s an old one of Molly’s from the sixties. She’d always admired it on her mum in old photographs taken before she was hers, worn on nights out and parties from a past life that her mother only hints at, with a twinkle in her eye and a firmly zipped lip. Now, though, the dress looked all wrong - too chaste, too floral, not an ounce of sex appeal about it, throughly unmemorable and unlikely to catch a single eye, fresh-pickled toad-green or otherwise.

(In her bunk that night, she'd lain awake and taunted herself with cruel, self-flagellating fantasy. Imagined striding past the Boy Who Lived wearing that dress, the revenge one, making him regret he’d ever asked Cho Chang to the ball, making him forget all about her shiny hair and her pretty smile and her cool friends and her easy grace, making him notice someone else instead - his best mate’s feral little sister who is funny, actually, just not when he’s around, and whom he last seemed to have thought about when he’d hauled her off her own deathbed, and never since.)

As adolescence wore on, though, she’d soured on Diana. Too chic to be likeable, rich girl with a life of frocks and endless frolicking, intolerably poised and swan-like. The sight of her glimpsed on Muggle newsstand in the village stirred up the same feelings of eye-roll envy as her sister-in-law, which always boded ill. Looking at her now, though, she wonders if there wasn’t something she’d missed, something else to her. Diana’s set jaw looks more guarded than she remembered. The wide eyes ringed by thick smudgy black she’d once thought coquettish now look lost, full of reproach.

Dean’s mum, she remembers now, had loved her. ‘She won’t hear a bad word about her,’ he’d said, rolling his eyes. ‘Says she was the best thing that ever happened to that family.’ Ever her father’s daughter, she’d pestered him with endless questions, like she did all things Muggle: about the divorce, about the royals and succession and the Muggle press and the high drama of it all, until he’d got bored and suggested they go find a broom cupboard, get down to more serious business. Wonders how Dean’s mum must be feeling today. But then she remembers her son is, for all intents and purposes, Muggleborn in a new regime that wants him dead, and suddenly feels slightly sick. She puts the paper away, then, and gets back on with packing up her war room for the morning’s train journey out to the front.

Diana’s sons, the paper said, survive her. They’re called William, and Harry. Good names, in her book. She can't help but think of them as she packs, the boys - children, who woke up one morning to find themselves motherless.

‘It’s mayhem in London,’ says her father, that night, over dinner. ‘There’s hundreds of people outside the palace, leaving flowers and things. I’ve never seen anything like it. There'll be a big public funeral - all the royal family will have to be there, including the boys. They'll have no choice. The Muggles are heartbroken. I dread to think what would happen if there was an attack during that - Kingsley, we ought to talk more about that, actually...'

'Those poor children,' her mother whispers, though that’s nothing new, these days — she whispers that every night.

'Are they still in London?' she asks her dad, quietly, over the washing up. 'At Grimmauld? Have you heard anything?'

'No news, dear. I'd tell you if I knew.'

Lying awake that night with her trunk packed, she wonders if this has all passed them by - her brother and almost-sister and the boy who lived she knows she’s supposed to forget. She imagines them sat the table in that grungy basement kitchen, newspaper spread in front of them. Perhaps they, too, have been poring over Diana's finest outfits, in memoriam. Probably not, though — not with a murder to plot, a Dark Lord to kill, a Tom to hunt. Three child soldiers with a war to win.

Still, the thoughts persist as she tries to fall asleep. Thinks about being hunted, boys without mothers, a city full of mourners. Muggles with their tears and their flowers and their prams at the palace gates. It’s like it's the end of something, something fun and frivolous, dress-up and glamour and girlhood. One day, you're thirteen and looking at princesses in party dresses in the newspaper — and the next, you're sixteen, and the newspapers tell you that the parties are over and the princesses are dead. Something about the tragedy of the thing. The pointlessness, the waste.

artwork: diana and her nymphs hunting by paul de vos (1636)

#fic #writing #ginny weasley #princess diana #tags i did not expect to put together #this is what happens when you are raised by a mother who loves princess diana too much #i actually can’t believe i spent this afternoon writing this #fic rec #hinny

84 notes · View notes

magicalincorrectrobodokiquotes · 29 days ago

Text

"Why, Then Oh Why, Can't I?" Clip

Anne looked at Polly. “So…uh…”

“Yeah?” Polly admitted.

“I dunno what to say.” Anne confessed. “I mean, we’ve been friends for a few months now…”

“I’d say go for it!” Pearl beamed. “What harm could it do?” “Rejection…betrayal…loss of friendship…” Anne worried.

“Does either o’ ya wanna hear a Pirate Story?” asked Polly.

“That’ll be great.” Anne nodded.

“Yeah! Go for it!” Pearl cheered.

Polly nodded. “So, there we were! Brave, wreckless, slightly idiotic crew! Sailin’ the seven seas!”

“Mmmmph?” Wheeler grumbled a little.

Anne blushed. Go back to sleep please… she thought nervously.

“And while we was sailin’, a bunch o’ dolphins joined us on our journey!” Polly continued.

“Dolphins! I love them!” Pearl beamed.

“Mmmm…” Wheeler curled up happily, Bailey in his arms. “Baileybaileybaileybailey.”

Anne smiled. “Bailey!”

“An’ they were persistent on stayin’ wi’ us!” Polly continued.

“Ooooooh.” Pearl was HOOKED.

“I know, an’-” Polly stopped. “Anne? Anne? Y’ listening?”

“What?”

“Anne Whatever-Yer-Middle-Name-Is-If-Ya-Even-Have-One Vernes! Are ya listenin’ t’ me?” Polly sounded a bit nervous.

“He was saying ‘Bailey’ so cutely and-” She blushed.

“Damn, you have it down bad.” Polly muttered.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Polly facepalmed. “From the beginning…”

(pic coming soon)

#magical robodoki #creative arts #5:15 pm #not an incorrect quote #robodoki clip #anne vernes #polly clarke #pearl kingsley #charlie “wheeler” thackery #bailey vernes #shown: betsy thackery #shown: pablo santiago clarke #shown: coral kingsley #shown: duchess vernes #pic coming soon

0 notes

ru-fiction · 29 days ago

Text

Playground Rivals: Ken x Reader

Chapter 1

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

There once was a sandy island, not a building on site. The only presence of life being the little girls in their dresses playing with their toys.

Since the beginning of time, Since the first little girl ever existed, there have been dolls. But the dolls were always and forever baby dolls.

The girls who played with them could only play as mothers, Which can be fun, at least for a while anyway.

This continued until Barbie was created.

The girls surround a giant sized Barbie, looking on in fascination with the doll. A little blonde girl with glasses glances at the doll in her hand, she raises it above her head and starts to smash the remaining baby dolls with conviction. The other girls joined in her rampage. Once she finishes the job she throws the last one in the air.

Barbie changed everything.

She might have started out as just a lady in a bathing suit, but she became so much more.

She had her own money,

Her own house,

Her own car,

Her own career.

Because Barbie can be anything, Women could be anything.

Thanks to Barbie all problems of feminism and equal rights have been solved.

At least that's what the Barbies think.

The roof on one of the Barbies' dream houses opens up, revealing inside a sleeping Barbie on her pink heart shaped bed.

Here's one of those Barbies now, living her best day every day.

Barbie wakes up with a big smile on her face, throwing her covers off and getting her day started.

She walks off to the side somehow ending up on the floor below her bedroom, heading towards her bathroom. She turns on the shower, bathing in her warm none existent water. Once she gets out she heads to her closet opening it to reveal a long pink and white dress with different accessories surrounding it. She puts on the dress dawning a pearl white necklace, flower earrings and a pink bow. The outfit was soon replaced by a dark pink suit ready for the next day.

Barbie sits in front of the mirror that had no reflection and starts brushing her long, flowy hair. Sliding down her pink slide onto her plastic pool, making her way through the door towards her kitchen.

She opens her fridge grabbing a carton of milk then a plate catching a heart shaped waffle on it with whipped cream on top.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Every day was perfect in Barbieland.

At least for Barbie.

If you weren't a Barbie, you weren't as important.

That messed with a few of the dolls heads, though they were good at hiding it. No one felt superior when Barbie was around.

Here was one of those very dolls.

Ken woke up cuddled next to both Kingsley!Ken and Ncuti!Ken. He untangled his limbs from his friends and stepped over the other Kens.

You see the Kens didn't have houses, While the mornings were warm in Barbieland, The nights were very cold.

The Kens had to make fire and made cuddle piles because they had no blankets.

Ken mimes washing his hair, getting the sand out of his bleach blonde hair.

Kens had to make due with what the beach offered.

"Morning Ken."

"Good morning, Ken."

Ken stopped his routine making eye contact with his two friends Ken and Ken. He sends them a smile, continuing to wash his hair. The other two sit beside him and also wash the sand out of their hair.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

"Hi Barbie!"

"Hi Skipper!"

"Hi Barbie!"

"Hi Midge!"

Barbies were always greeted by everyone.

Barbies greeted Barbies,

Skippers greeted Barbies,

Midges greeted Barbies,

Allan greeted Barbies,

Kens especially greeted Barbies.

But there were a few people who wouldn't even look at Barbie, or well a specific doll in general.

"Hey Raquelle."

The brunette, Barbie had spoken to rolled her eyes at the blonde before pulling the red shades in her hair down.

"Do you want a ride home?"

The brunette turned her nose up at Barbie and quickened her pace leaving behind Barbie whose car wasn't moving very fast. Barbie always shrugged off her interactions with Raquelle, but part of her couldn't understand why Raquelle didn't like her, everyone liked Barbie.

"Hi Barbie."

"Hi Barbie!!"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Barbie has a great day every day.

But Ken only has a good day if Barbie looks at him.

Ken stood on the pink sand with a surfboard in his hand. He wore a teal and pink shirt that opened up and showed off his abs with a pair of matching shorts. He scanned the crowd looking for a specific blonde doll that he was made to love. He shifted nervously, he had planned something he hoped would impress her. Then he saw a flash of pink and white, he knew it was her before she even turned around to look at him. She had that presence about her.

"Hi Barbie!!!"

She turned towards him with a big smile on her face. She waved at him and he smiled big, having her attention on him.

"Hi, Ken."

"Hi Barbie."

"Hi Barbie!!"

"Hi Ken."

Ken shrugs off Simu!Ken, slightly upset that everyone suddenly wanted Barbie's attention but then again someone always wanted Barbie's attention.

A chain reaction was set off, everyone was talking over each other, trying to say 'Hi'.

The Kens had already spoken to each other beforehand so Ken didn't understand why they were causing this much commotion now of all times.

"I got you an Ice cream Ken!!"

"Cool."

After everyone has quieted down, Ken made another attempt to get Barbie to focus on him.

Ken wasn't attracted to his Barbie but he still felt like he needed her validation, her attention.

"Hey Barbie, Check me out."

Barbie nods in the direction of Ken. He was happy to finally have her attention but something was missing or someone, He looked around a little but there was no sight of the doll he was looking for. He bent his knees, surfboard in hand, staring at the plastic wave. He took a nervous breath, shaking off the nerves before running full force towards the wave. That was not a great Idea.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

On the other side of Barbieland was a huge mansion. The mansion was the epitome of vanity. The mansion was a Victorian style with auburn shingled roofs, the owner of said building had the exterior painted in her favorite color purple, she had columns built around the house each with her initial R. A lush lawn surrounded the outside of the mansion leaving a little walkway in-between. A little pass the walkway was a golden gate with the initial R. In golden accents, pass the gate was the owner sitting by her plastic pool next to a golden statue of herself.

This is Raquelle, she was made in opposition to Barbie. She starts her day off waking up and going on a morning jog and then dresses in her red swimsuit and tans next to her pool in the plastic sun.

Raquelle pulls out a golden mirror checking out her tan.

Some Barbies would call her vain or self-centered, Raquelle made a habit out of ignoring the Barbies, she wasn't exactly happy with being treated like a secondary character.

Raquelle grabbed her purple phone to read the same message that's on every plastic phone made in Barbieland. She reads the message before rolling her eyes and tossing the phone to the side.

"A party at Barbie's, how very yesterday."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!!"

Raquelle rolls her eyes again, getting up and walking in towards the house knowing her moment of peace was over for the day.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Raquelle walks into the house, she looks in the direction of her dining room noticing her sibling placing three plates filled with plastic waffles on the table. A smirk playing on the (h/c)'s lips. An angry brunette storms into the room, blue faced. The (h/c) head bursts out in laughter once his glare falls onto them.

"How could you do this to me?! You know I have a show tonight."

"We have a show tonight."

The brunette points to his face, walking up to his giggling sibling and grabbing the bottom of their apron trying to wipe it off.

"It's a joke, Ryan."

These were Raquelle's siblings, Ryan and Y/n. Ryan was made in opposition to Ken. Being Raquelle's twin brother, he also was a little conceited. He considered himself a serious artist doesn't mean he always was serious artist.

Y/n was their self-proclaimed younger sibling. The two basically took them in, they had no family or dream house or official job until they met the two. They were made because of a collaboration Mattel did with Kay Jewelers before the line was cancelled.

"My face is blue."

"Oh calm down, it's washable."

"I don't care, this face is money!"

The brunette motioned to his face.

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?"

"Oh you..."

Ryan scoffed as he pointed at the (h/c) haired doll. The younger doll made a point to look dejected before making eye contact with their sister.

Raquelle watched the two, shaking her head before getting a cloth and holding it under the sink, she turns the knob checking the temperature of the none existent water before holding the cloth under it. She walks up to her twin, rolling up the towel before pulling in the back end of the towel and letting it go hitting the boy with it.

"Ouch!! What the hell Raquelle."

The brunette turns towards his sister with a betrayed look in his eye, not noticing the slick smile making its way on the face of his sibling behind him.

"Cut it out. Can't you see they're remorseful."

She gestures towards the other doll in the room who instantly drops their smile and pretends to look like a broken puppy dog. Ryan just glares instead.

Y/n was the favorite sibling and liked to use that to their advantage. The other two aren't oblivious to this fact, they just usually gave into the puppy eyes.

"You know they're just putting on a front."

"Oh my plastic. Ryan just hurry up and get dressed so we can go."

"Okay, Okay!"

Ryan held his hands up in defeat before pointing at the other doll.

"Sleep with one eye open."

He makes eye contact with the younger doll with an evil glint in his eye before leaving to get dressed.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The three pulled into the beach area of Barbieland, walking out of the car in coordinated outfits. Raquelle wore a black tank top, black cover up drapped over with red roses and green leaves embroidered on in, and black shorts and sandals, finishing her look wearing a pair of red shades. Y/n wore a black hawaiian shirt with red flowers on top opened to show off the black tank top underneath, black shorts and red sandals. Ryan wore a black hawaiian shirt that had red leaves on one side of the shirt and black pants with black tennis shoes. The three struck a pose once they stop walking, Raquelle and Ryan waiting to be noticed and Y/n looking for a specific blonde hair cutie.

"Hiya Y/n!"

The three turned in the direction of the voice. Y/n smile grows as the blonde makes his way over to them. They lifted their hand up in a wave receiving a glare from their brother as they did so.

"Hi Ken!"

Ken's plastic heart skipped a beat when their eyes met. The (h/c) haired doll makes a move to walk towards him but got pulled back by the brunette doll beside them.

I know we said Ken only has a good day when Barbie looks at him but he has an even better day when it's Y/n. Even though Ken enjoys their attention, he felt guilty about it as if he's doing something he isn't supposed to.

Kens were meant to love Barbie and Barbie alone. Yet this Ken couldn't help shifting his eyes towards the other doll that was in his life. The one doll that treated him like more than just a sidekick or an annoyance.

Raquelle was aware of the secret glances the two would give each other when Barbie wasn't looking and the dorky smiles that would be on their faces when they caught a glance of the other walking past. She understood very well the feelings her sibling was going through as she herself was very taken with this particular Ken at one point in time. When she had first noticed her sibling's affection for the doll she was upset, she had already had to compete with Barbie for his attention and now she had to compete with her sibling as well but after realizing how much the two dolls cared for each other she decided to back off, wanting the other doll to be happy.

Ryan on the other hand didn't know. He knew they were friends but that's about it. It's not that Y/n thought their brother would hate them or anything, if it had been anyone else besides this specific Ken, he no doubt would be okay with it but it wasn't anyone else that held their heart, It was Ken and Ryan wasn't too fond of Ken it had more to do with Ryan being extremely over protective then anything.

And because of that, Ryan's reactions to them just being friends was enough to keep Y/n quiet.

He did everything in his power to keep the two apart, pull his sibling in the opposite direction, placing towels on holes he dug only for Allan to fall into them every time instead, he even convinced Simu!Ken to flirt with his sibling; Ken was jealous for a short moment however he quickly got over it by the reassurance of the other doll.

Raquelle was more than happy to keep this secret from him so that was a plus.

"Barbie invited me to her big blowout party."

Ken goes to grab Y/n's hands only for Ryan to swat them away. Ken just sends them a sheepish grin.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come."

"No."

"Yes!"

The three all look at each other, the (h/c) doll clearly upset by their siblings' answers. Raquelle gave them an apologetic look while Ryan glared at a sadden Ken.

"Nothing personal Ken, but we aren't really, Barbie's favorite people and she isn't ours. It's best we stay out of each other's way."

"Plus I have a concert tonight."

Ryan pulls his sibling to his side shaking them a little as he does so.

"And Y/n has to be there. They're my pianist."

"I'm more than a pianist."

The (h/c) doll rolled their eyes.

"And you wouldn't want our show to flop now would you Kenny boy?"

The blonde doll shook his head.

"Good."

Y/n mouths a quick 'sorry' before their siblings pulls them away from the blonde, his ocean eyes following their figure as his shoulders drooped.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Y/n was able to finally get some time away from their siblings. Raquelle noticed said doll moping around after the whole Ken interaction and sent them to grab ice cream while Ryan played his guitar to serenade some Barbies, She sat with him rolling her eyes every time he would stop to flirt with a new Barbie that passed by. Raquelle had got Kingsley!Ken to help Y/n carry the ice cream back.

"Here you go Y/n."

Ken handed them two strawberry sundaes and held onto the (f/ic) cone for them, following them towards the direction of their siblings.

"Hey Y/n, Hi Ken!!"

Both dolls turned and saw the sunshine that was Barbie headed their way. She waved at the two, making her way over.

"I feel like I haven't seen you all morning."

"Yeah, being around Raquelle will do that."

Contrary to what Raquelle believed Y/n and Barbie actually had a good relationship with each other. They would even consider Barbie to be their best friend after Ken, of course. She was the only Barbie that really made an effort to talk to them outside of just asking for favors despite who their siblings were. Though they didn't know if they were Barbie's.

The blonde thought about that for a second, she looked like she wanted to ask a question but decided against it. Barbie grabs Y/n hands and pulled them closer to her, a big mischievous smile on her face.

"You should come to my party."

"Barbie."

Y/n tilted their head giving them the same look that they normally did.

Barbie knew what was coming she heard it everyday but today will NOT be that day.

Barbie had a party every night.

Everyday Barbie invited Y/n to come to said party.

Every night the party would end in a girls night.

Everyday Y/n would have to reject Barbie.

While this hurt Y/n to repeatedly tell their friend 'no,' they didn't want to betray the trust of their sister.

But who wants to see the rejected look on their friends face every single time this situation happened.

"They don't have to know."

"What?"