#plastic space barbies

[frecklystars]

I fucking love Ryan Gosling in these Barbie interviews. Someone asked "hey what would Ken say in his bio on a dating app? what kind of person is he looking for?" and Ryan's like "uh... well before he even looks for a Type Of Person™, he's gotta be real up front that he's got no job... and no house... no real prospects of any sort, really, he just kinda sleeps on the beach, and -- you know what, he doesn't even have a phone? I... I don't know if he can even sign up for this app?" and Margot said "oh but he has abs. That should get him somewhere" and he said "no, no, I don't think he even has an email address, I don't think there's any way to contact him??"

and it's like three minutes of them talking about Ken not even having any pickup lines because his way of flirting isn't even flirting, it's him picking up something Barbie accidentally dropped (even though Barbie doesn't make mistakes) and saying "oh hey you dropped this 😳" and then offering it to Barbie and then when Barbie says thank you while making eye contact he's shaking and thinking "oh god what a perfect day Barbie looked at me" and then he'll ride that high the entire day. and the interviewer was like "but that isn't a pickup line" and Ryan said "no I don't... I don't think Ken does that, I think he just creates moments with Barbie and cherishes them" WHAT THE HELL SIR YOU'RE MAKING ME FALL FOR KEN EVEN MORE

[lillotte17]

.

[rejoyous]

So I just finished listening to Epithet Erased: Prison of Plastic (an amazing audiobook that’s like mha but dumber).

And the voice actor for the main character(Molly)’s sister(Lorelei) is Tiana Camacho who has the weirdest variety of roles.

Like she was someone in the dubbed version of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Stone Ocean (i don’t remember who; I think she was Kiss/Smack).

She was in Barbie properties, and a Transformers show.

But she also played characters in A FOX IN SPACE, and MY INNER DEMONS! What the hell!?

[btw A Fox in Space is an unlicensed web series about Star Fox, and My Inner Demons is a Minecraft roleplay about a woman adopting a group of hot demon men].

[britneyshakespeare]

you know what's stupid. supposed "boy" hobbies are way fucking more expensive to buy old merch from on ebay, no matter how niche the property is that you think no one cares about it anymore. why are people selling the combo man comic for 50 bucks or more. that shit should be 30 cents

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 | barbie!wanda

Having been a Barbie her whole life, Wanda hasn’t got a clue about how her newly-human body works. Thankfully, you happen to be the best gynecologist in town.

pairing: innocent!barbie!wanda x fem!gynecologist!reader

word count: 2054

warnings: smut (18+), not exactly a dark fic - surprisingly consensual given the circumstances, just barbie!wanda exploring her identity and being corruptibly cute

Wanda didn’t quite know what to expect when she stepped foot into the gynecology centre. It’s to learn more about your body, Natasha had said, urging her to go. The doctors there will help you. 

She hopes her doctor is nice.

.

“Name?”

“Wanda Barbara Maximoff.”

“Your queue number is 476. Please proceed to Room B when your number is shown on the screen.”

“Okay.”

.

The metal handle of the door is cold.

That’s the first thing Wanda registers when her right hand meets the shiny surface. It’s a contrast to the warm blood that flows within her body, thrumming in her veins and sliding under the surface of her supple skin.

Temperature. Texture. Telltale emotions.

It’s a whole new world, really, with a human body. Wanda certainly isn’t used to existing within one that isn’t Barbie-like. 

She can’t jump out a window and fly two floors down without breaking any bones. (You don’t want to know the story behind that.) 

She can’t walk out of the house in full-body neon pink, either. (That one can be achieved with a severe lack of others’ opinion, but Wanda gets this human thing they call ‘anxiety’.)

Change.

That’s what it’s called, experiencing new things, and that’s what this is about.

Wanda pushes down the door handle. She can do this.

.

“First time?”

“Uhm, yes.”

The doctor’s back is facing Wanda, going clickety-clackety on the computer that actually works and is not made of plastic. It’s a female gynecologist, just like she requested. (Wanda loves women! She’s all for strong and independent women.) 

Wanda probably staring at the back of the doctor’s head a little too hard, but then the doctor swivels in her chair, finally turning to face Wanda, and turns out Wanda actually can’t do this anymore.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, and I’m your gynecologist.”

.

(This Barbie is going through gay panic, except she doesn’t know it.)

Of all the things that could possibly happen to her, of course Wanda's gynecologist is the most attractive person she’s ever laid her eyes on.

This was not how this was supposed to go. Wanda’s brain is short-circuiting, and she has this new feeling coursing through her body that causes her heart rate to speed up exponentially. It’s new. And different. And oddly nice.

“Wanda? You alright, sweetheart?”

The blonde snaps out of it with a flushed face, snapping her jaw shut. Sweetheart? Vision – a Ken – had tried calling her that once. She didn’t like it.

Sweetheart.

Wanda decides that she likes the way you say it.

“Yep. I’m right here. Sorry.”

You get this side smile on your face for a moment, something flickering in your eyes as you stare at Wanda, and it causes the biggest shiver to run down her spine. 

Wanda’s heart is palpitating uncontrollably. If anyone heard it right now she’d probably die of embarrassment.

You pull out a stethoscope.

F***. (She learnt that word from Tony.)

.

Wanda’s skin burns under your touch, as you place the medical instrument over her chest, listening keenly to her heartbeat. 

The blonde thinks she’s going to pass out, with the way you move your rolling chair over so close your legs could touch hers.

“It’s quite fast,” you murmur, your voice taking on a lower tone, and Wanda has to physically swallow before her heart breaks through the constraints of her ribcage.

“O-oh,” Wanda responds breathily, a lot higher-pitch than she had anticipated, and she swears your eyes darken just a tad bit. (She doesn’t know what that implies. But it’s kind of hot.)

“Turn around,” you continue, moving back slightly to give your patient space. Wanda releases the breath she was holding and steals all the air she can, but when your hands slide up and under the back of her shirt, all that air is lost again.

It takes every cell of Wanda’s existence not to let out a whimper when you apply pressure on the stethoscope, right above the clasp of her bra. 

That new feeling has been amplified by a thousandfold, travelling from your touch to her skin to her heart and right between her legs.

(This Barbie is experiencing lust.)

.

“Alright, I’ve been informed that you’re a rather special case, Wanda,” you comment, not unkindly. “You don’t have any past medical records. So today I just want to check that everything is in good condition. We’ll do a quick pelvic exam to test your sexual and reproductive health, is that alright with you?”

Wanda doesn’t know what a pelvic test is. But she’d do anything you told her to, honestly, so she just nods.

“Okay, so you need to strip and lay down on the bed for me.”

“...Huh?”

(This Barbie is thinking dirty thoughts.)

.

Wanda is clothed in a blue surgical gown. She doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed for that.

All she knows is that the material is scratchy against her chest (or more specifically, her nipples are all tingly — she’s not quite sure what that means yet, but it feels strangely good), and that your gloved hands are spreading her thighs open on the operating bed.

Her feet meet the stirrup supports at the end of the bed, knees falling open, and the way you move your rolling chair between her legs in a swift motion has Wanda questioning how she ever entertained the idea of liking Kens.

Your hands run down the expanse of her thighs — probably a little longer than you should have, not that Wanda’s complaining — and your gaze locks on the pinkish bareness of Wanda’s pussy.

The reaction is instinctive, non-commital, subconscious. “Uhm,” Wanda whines, trying to close her thighs. She squirms under your inspective gaze, biting into her lip and trying to shift away from the grip of your gloved hands.

She’s so bare, so open, so vulnerable. But that’s not what scares her. It’s the fact that she doesn’t mind, not around you.

You seem to catch wind of this, and don’t release your grip on her thighs. 

Wanda stares at you with her heart hammering in her chest. Wide-eyed and flushed. The pulse grows from her chest to between her legs and that’s never happened before.

“Sweetheart,” you murmur, very softly, and Wanda melts like putty in your arms.

Her knees fall open again.

.

The rest of the examination goes somewhat smoothly.

Save for the embarrassing little squeaks Wanda makes when you peer a little too closely at her cunt, it’s not too bad. 

She knows you’re discerning possible signs of swelling and soreness or something along those medical lines Wanda is hardly an expert in, but what’s more concerning is the warm liquid pooling in her lower belly.

Wanda’s never felt like this before, especially not as a Barbie, especially not this vividly.

When that warmth spreads to the tip of her folds, threatening to emerge on its surface, Wanda’s breath catches in her throat. She doesn’t know what it means that she’s going to be wet.

“All done,” you comment, leaning back, and Wanda’s legs snap shut just as her pussy grows damp, for the first time.

Crisis averted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you say, almost sadistically, watching her reaction with an amused look. “That’s just the external visual exam. The second part of the pelvic exam is where I get down to the real stuff, yeah? I’m going to have to put my fingers inside you.”

(This Barbie is dangerously close to passing out from skyrocketing levels of libido.)

.

“I normally use lubricant on my gloved fingers for my patients, but I have a feeling you won’t need it,” you comment dryly, casually tugging off your surgical gloves and tossing them into the trashcan.

Wanda is too embarrassed to respond. Her face is flushed, her nipples are extra tingly, and her pussy is thoroughly soaked at this point. 

And you’re just there, sitting between her legs with your hands on her thighs, a very badly hidden smirk on your face.

She kind of wants to slap your dirty mouth. Or maybe kiss it.

“This is a speculum,” you announce, pulling out a metal-hinged tool. “And I’m going to use it to keep your pretty pussy open. Make sure you don’t close up on me again.”

Wanda squeals at your choice of words, slapping your arm in embarrassment. At this point, there’s hardly a need for professionalism, but she’s still not used to the whole thing.

You let a laugh slip from your lips, thoroughly enjoying yourself as you put the medical instrument in place. Wanda’s so pretty, so innocent. 

A more sensual look takes over your features when you’re greeted with the sight of her glistening cunt again. Precious.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

.

“Oh!” The high-pitched noise Wanda makes when two of your fingers push inside her pussy is downright filthy. 

The sensations of your warm fingers bounce all around Wanda’s body and the room. It’s only your fingertips, and you’ve barely moved at all, but Wanda’s slick is dripping and she’s already stimulated like she’s never been before.

“More,” Wanda whines, bringing her hips up, urging you to continue. You press her down by the lower belly, your warm spreading out over her skin.

“This is an examination,” you state, no room for question. Your eyes narrow, and Wanda gulps. “We’re doing it how I like it.”

The blonde looks up at you with those doe-green eyes, pouting adorably, before nodding obediently. She’s been so busy ruling Barbieland that relinquishing all that power for once might certainly be pleasant.

You continue to slowly slide your two fingers in her cunt, and Wanda lets out a whimper. Her body moves with your touch like you’re her puppeteer, but maybe she needs it because this feeling is so, so new.

“Feels s’good,” she gasps, and you want to chastise her because it technically isn’t supposed to feel good, but you see the dizzied look on Wanda’s pretty little face and you relent.

It definitely isn’t the first time you’ve had your fingers in a woman, so your practiced fingers curl with expert ease to find her sweet spot. “Oh!” Wanda moans, louder, lithe body arching on the operation bed.

“Shit,” you swear, fingers curling again so you can see that exact reaction. You start to move, faster, harbouring this carnal desire to make Wanda scream and beg.

She’s so innocent, so corruptible, so easy. 

Sooner than later, you’re bent over Wanda’s body on the bed, wrist hammering in and out of her sweet pussy, finding all the spots that make her weak.

“Pretty girl,” you pant, biting hickeys into collarbone and her breasts. Her blonde locks are splayed out on the pillow, body shaking with each thrust, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, and it’s the most breathtaking sight you’ve ever chanced upon.

You memorise every stroke that makes her arch, every spot that makes her whine — perks of being a gynecologist, you supposed — you find your way around her body like it’s child’s play, and all too soon Wanda’s nearing a hypothetical edge.

“I think- I think I’mna pee,” Wanda cries, clawing at your wrist because the feeling is too much. She can hardly think, at the sheer pace and ferocity of which you were taking her cunt.

“Ever heard of a clitoris?” you question breathlessly, still pummeling your wrist into her soaked pussy. Wanda’s dripping, actually dripping. If she thought she was wet before, she was now soaking the sheets.

“Wh-what?” she responds, equally as breathless. Her mind was all fuzzy, barely registering your question.

“It’s this,” you add, bringing your thumb to harshly press against her swollen and puffy clit.

Wanda screams.

(This Barbie reaches another plane of existence with fantastical pleasure.)

.

It turns out Wanda is a ‘squirter’. She doesn’t know what the implications of that are. 

“Do I need to come back next week?” Wanda asks innocently, knowing full well gynecologist visits only needed to be scheduled once a year. She’s perched on the edge of the bed, back in her clothes.

“Definitely,” you respond, scanning over the test results calmly, like you hadn’t just made Wanda squirt twice in less than thirty minutes. 

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda asks playfully, purposefully batting her lashes when you look up from your computer.

You don’t bother hiding the chuckle that leaves your lips at her antics. “Yeah, doctor’s orders.”

a/n: you do not want to know how many health sites i visited to learn about pelvic exams and gynecology. | main m.list

[scoops-aboy86]

I just saw a post about a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship but with the ages switched, so the one with money is in his twenties and the financially struggling one is in his forties. And I thought, wouldn't that be GREAT as a Steddie fic. 

Like, heir to the Harrington fortune Steve is just itching to dump his parents’ money down the drain on something. Or someone, because. You know. His parents tried to buy his love without ever being around to deserve it and that worked out Great, might as well continue the Harrington tradition (he thinks, while rolling his eyes). 

Enter Eddie Munson, walking disaster. Who sells weed for a living but spends most of his time planning and running dnd campaigns for underprivileged kids. Who is still trying to make it with his band, but meanwhile he’s the only member who can’t get a decent steady job because of bullshit murder charges when he was 19. (Which didn’t even stick, but it’s a small town… or maybe his dad just pissed off that many people.)

Eddie has the muscle tone of a slim jim and the hair of a tormented barbie doll, but the one physical feature he’s incredibly proud of are his tattoos. They’re all obviously home done, but when Steve realizes they’re all Eddie’s own work he’s (a) grudgingly impressed and (b) now has TWO great ideas for pissing off his parents. 

So Steve gets a tramp stamp in an apartment that he pays for but has Eddie’s name on the lease, and a grungy older boyfriend to parade around whenever he feels his parents need keeping in check. And maybe Eddie kind of makes it his unofficial job/personal undertaking to look into Harrington family dealings (he has his sources; his dad also schmoozed a lot of people and everyone knows his uncle is a stand-up guy) and alert Steve to things they’re being assholes about that Steve, more through fault of his upbringing than his own, wouldn’t have noticed. 

Like, maybe they own some medical buildings and are thinking of raising the rent on a pediatrician practice that offers sliding scale to low income families. At first, Steve is a little dismissive…

Steve: What’s the big deal? There are other pediatricians in town.

Eddie: Yes, but not everyone can afford to take their kids to them. 

Steve: Oh come on. 

Eddie: No, seriously. 

Steve: But… What if the kid gets really sick or hurt? 

Eddie: Sometimes they die, Steve.

Steve: ………………………. Okay yeah no that’s not happening. 

The next week, that practice has their rent lowered and a new lease locked in to keep the space (maybe even expand it into the plastic surgeon’s place next door) pretty much indefinitely and there’s an elite charity event that Steve and Eddie pointedly do not go to. 

(He can’t always get away with not going. Sometimes he plays the cards he’s dealt and goes with some pretty girl on his arm, but he has her home by midnight and he’s riding his boyfriend into the mattress by 1am.)

Eddie’s bandmates are dubious, but Eddie keeps swearing up and down that Steve isn’t a bad dude, he just has a lot of blind spots that he’s working on. Some harder than others, sure, but overall his cause seems to be just. Ish. A lot of what Steve does is motivated by petty revenge, but his parents are kind of shitty people so it tends to work out. “Plus,” Eddie adds brightly, “he’s a firecracker in the sack.” And is pelted with things for the crime of rubbing his sex life with a catch almost half his age in their faces. 

At some point they meet Steve, who has been specifically coached by Eddie to NOT buy out an entire restaurant or bar for the night just for the occasion. They come away with the general impression of, “He’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit.”

Maybe they met in the first place because Dustin is one of the underprivileged kids Eddie was running campaigns for, and Steve has always had a soft spot for Dustin (and by extension all of Dustin’s friends and their families) since Mrs. Henderson was one of his nicer nannies growing up. Maybe Steve sets up a whole community center and tries to put Eddie in charge of it, but Eddie doesn’t really want to be anyone’s boss; he just wants to help kids excel at a game he loves because its one of the things that really helped keep him steady through his rough childhood and adolescence. But he does work there, because that way he can keep playing dnd AND teach guitar lessons. 

(Steve offered to help get the band signed to a label but Eddie was adamant, if they were going to make it they’d do it on merit, not money, or not at all. It’s really become more of a hobby for the other guys anyway.)

So Eddie is finally OKAY. He has a good income, a decent amount saved up from while Steve was covering all the bills he can now pay himself, and his Uncle Wayne hasn’t been more proud of him since the day he finally graduated high school on the third try (which was pretty good, for a Munson). 

And Steve… isn’t sure what to do with himself now that Eddie doesn’t need him anymore. He can’t think of anything he’s good for other than money—though his best friend Robin tells him that’s just because he’s a dingus, there are PLENTY of things. (They’ve been best friends since college, and there’s a story there but someone else is gonna have to fill in that blank because I’m getting sleepy.) Dustin chimes in that yeah, he can totally tell that Eddie has been sneaking Steve into campaigns as an npc (which he has to explain to Steve, again, even though they’ve been over this many times) for ages and is clearly so in love with him it’s ridiculous, has been for a while. 

Maybe Steve panics and does something dumb after that, but not so boneheaded that they can’t work it out dramatically in the rain after a brief period apart. Like in one of those romance movies that they both pretend they think are silly but genuinely get them choked up sometimes because they’re both kind of saps underneath it all. 

Eddie goes on to become a well respected tattoo artist, while still pitching in at the community center a few days a week. Steve continues his philanthropy work with the guidance of Eddie, Robin, his ex and investigative journalist Nancy, etc., and his own shaky-as-a-baby-giraffe-that-landed-on-its-head-straight-out-of-the-womb-but-getting-steadier instincts. They get married while skydiving (because Eddie joked about it and Steve held him to it), build the found family of Steve’s dreams, and live happily ever after. 

… Anyway, if someone could write all that out in actual prose I would love to read it. But with the sex dialed up to eleven because that’s important but I think I only actually mentioned it twice, a travesty.

[jareaul0ver]

Bruises (pt 2)

part 1

Summary: Regina continues to give you special treatment after your fight with Shane, and the truth of why is revealed.

wc: 1.7k warnings: mentions of the fight, none really, just a happy ending :) pairings: regina george x reader

After the fight you had with Shane, Regina had been all over you. You weren’t sure why, you’re weren’t concussed nor did you need help with anything, but who were to you complain.

It was a week or so after the incident and you were sitting with your usual friends in the cafeteria for lunch. Regina and you had spoken a lot since then, but you weren’t expecting to see her standing behind you when you turned around.

“Regina, hey.” You smiled up at her. Your friends stared at you with wide eyes.

She looked down at you, trying her best to keep a neutral face. “Come sit with us.” A few people gasped and she shot them a glare before looking back at you, her face softening immediately. No one else could see past her scary façade except for you.

You glanced back at your friends and they nodded. You stood up and grabbed your things. Regina’s hand twitched and she had to stop herself from grabbing yours and pulling you with her. Instead, she just walked away, expecting you to follow.

Of course, you did. Regina sat in her usual spot, the seat next to her open. You smiled at Gretchen and Karen, and at the unfamiliar face sitting in between them. “Hi, I’m Cady.” She smiled back at you.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” You were always polite. That was one of the many things Regina had come to adore about you - except in this moment. She didn't know why but you being so nice to Cady bothered her on another level.

She pushed down the strange feeling and patted the seat next to her. "Sit here, Y/N." You obliged and sat your stuff down before sitting next to her, leaving a bit of space between the two of you.

Lunch went normally. Well, as normal as it can get while sitting with the plastics. You had to admit, it was fun hearing all of the drama that Gretchen had info on. You were a little surprised, however, that Regina hadn't talked as much shit as you used to hear about.

Something about her had changed in the past few months. You wondered if Cady had anything to do with it. She seemed like a sweet girl, maybe she was rubbing off on Regina.

"Y/N?" Regina placed her hand on your arm and you looked at her. "You coming today?"

You blinked a few times and glanced down at the feeling of her skin on yours. You looked back up to meet her eyes. "Coming to what?"

"My house, silly. Were you listening?" She smiled at you and ran her hand down your arm before putting it back in her lap.

"Oh, yeah, sure." You nodded. The last time you had been to Regina's house was last year. Regina was sure you needed some sort of glam makeover, so she dressed you up like her own personal human Barbie.

She was sitting in front of you, practically on your lap, while applying a heavy layer of makeup to your face. You kept flinching away when she attempted eyeliner, so she reached out and firmly gripped your chin.

She finally finished and smiled at you. "There. Perfect." She had already dressed you up, putting you in one of her famous pink sweaters and a short white skirt. "Go look in the mirror."

You obliged and got up from her bed. You stared at yourself in the mirror, unable to hide the unsatisfactory expression on you face. You frowned at yourself.

Regina came up behind you in the mirror and her smile faltered. "You don't like it." She said a little sadly. You shook your head. "But you look so pretty."

You turned to face her and sighed. "It's not me. Like, at all." She studied your face for a second before walking over to her vanity and grabbing makeup remover and cotton pads. She came back over and stood close to you.

She began to gently remove the makeup from your face. "You should've said something before I started." She said quietly.

You closed your eyes, letting her get the eyeliner off of you. "You seemed so excited, I didn't want to ruin your fun."

She stopped her movements for a second before starting again. You assumed it was to get more makeup remover on the pad, but really, she found herself staring at you, feeling a little bad for making you uncomfortable. "You shouldn't let people walk all over you. You aren't doing yourself any good." She said quickly before silence washed over you.

The end of the day had been approaching too slowly for your liking. Sure you were excited to go, but you were nervous as hell. You quickly grabbed your things from your locker and left the school, heading over to Regina's iconic pink Jeep.

She sat in the front seat and Gretchen, Karen, and Cady were all piled in the back. Regina spotted you from a small distance and crooked her finger, summoning you over to her. You picked up your walking speed and stood near the driver's side door.

"Passenger side, get in." Gretchen shot Regina a look, shocked that she was letting you sit up front, but she ignored it. You silently got in the car and glanced back at the girls, shooting them an apologetic glance.

The car ride to her house was awkward. You all sat in a strange silence. The girls were fed up with Regina's special treatment of you, while you were simply confused.

You all eventually piled into Regina's house and were headed upstairs to her room when you heard a gasp behind you. You spun around and Mrs. George stood with a smile on her face. "Y/N Y/L/N, is that you?"

You smiled at Regina's mom and walked back down the stairs. She immediately hugged you. "I haven't seen you in forever dear, where'd you disappear to?"

The two of you let go. "Been busy with school and hockey, I guess." You glanced back at Regina, and it wasn't visible, but you could tell she felt guilty.

"Mom, we have things to do." The blonde rolled her eyes. You said goodbye and went upstairs with the rest of the group.

Regina sat on her bed, Gretchen and Karen crowding by Regina's vanity, while you and Cady stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Gretchen came over and grabbed Cady, shooting you a small look of contempt.

You stood alone for only a second before Regina beckoned you over with the curl of her finger. You obliged, like always, and sat on the edge of her bed.

"How's your face healing?" She asked quietly.

You shrugged. "I mean, it doesn't hurt that bad anymore, so I guess it's healing fine." Regina nodded at you and moved her hand up to your face, gently running her thumb over the scab on your cheek.

A heat flooded your cheeks and you couldn't help but lean into her touch a bit. The moment was sadly cut short when Gretchen started speaking and Regina dropped her hand back to her lap. "So, do we need to update Shane's status in the burn book? After what he did to Y/N, I think we should."

Karen nodded along and I noticed the confusion on Cady's face. "Burn book?"

Gretchen and Karen went in depth with showing Cady every page in the burn book. You shot Regina a glance. "You still have that thing?"

She almost looked ashamed. Almost. "Yeah, guess so." You just sighed and pulled out your phone.

The sun was setting. Cady had already left, and Gretchen and Karen were leaving. They said their goodbyes and disappeared out of Regina's room.

"Regina?" You spoke up the second you two were alone. She hummed as an answer and you continued. "Why've you been so nice to me lately?"

Regina's body tensed up. "I told you before, you fought my ex and I wanted to make sure you were fine."

You shook your head. "I don't think that's the whole truth." You spoke softly.

There was silence before Regina sighed. "Fine. I lied. Not about the whole making sure you're okay thing, but the reason why I care so much."

You scooted closer to Regina on her bed and reached out to grab one of her hands. "Then what's really going on?"

She glanced at your eyes before dropping her gaze to your hands. "It is my fault that Shane fought you. I never told anyone the truth about what happened when we broke up. He didn't cheat on me and I didn't end things with him." She took a deep breath.

You stayed silent, letting her continue. “He broke up with me. He said I liked someone else and-“ She shook her head. “I didn’t admit to it, obviously, but I didn’t deny it either.”

You gently ssqueezed her hand and spoke softly. “Gina, I- I’m sorry.” A small look of confusion flashed behind your eyes. “But I don’t get what that has to do with you protecting me?”

She stared down at her lap. “Because it was you. He said I liked you.” Her bottom lip trembled a bit. “I tried so hard not to, but clearly it didn’t work.” She let out a shaky breath.

You stated at her with wide eyes. Regina George liked you? “Is this some sort of prank or something. Did Gretchen and Karen not actually leave? Are they outside, because-“

“No you idiot.” She placed her hands on your face and pulled you towards her, finally connecting your lips together like she had been longing to do for forever.

It took you a second to process what was happening, but when you did, you kissed her back hard. You put your hands on her waist and pulled her onto your lap. She gasped softly and you took advantage of her parted lips, slipping your tongue past them and brushing it agains hers.

You groaned at the taste of her mouth and you gently squeezed her hips. She giggled and pulled away. "Call me an idiot but I'd fight any of your exes any day if it means I get this." You smiled at her and she lightly pushed your shoulder.

She leaned forward and tucked her head against your neck. "It feels really good to get that off my chest."

You ran your fingers gently up and down her back. "I'm glad you finally did."

taglist: @reneeswif3

[formosusiniquis]

y'know like barbie

ao3

It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.

The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.

Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.

It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.

It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"

So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"

Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.

"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.

It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be. 

"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."

Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."

He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."

"Famous last words."

He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.

“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”

“That’s not how you play Barbies.”

It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”

“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”

“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”

“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”

“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”

Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”

“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”

“Right.”

-

So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.

Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.

“Like father, like son.”

“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”

“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”

“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”

“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”

“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”

Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”

“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”

Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.

It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”

See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.

“I know, like Barbie.”

That shuts Dustin up real quick.

“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”

“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”

“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”

The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.

He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.

-

The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.

He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.

And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.

So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”

He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”

And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”

“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”

Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”

“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.

It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.

Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.

Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"

Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.

"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."

"What so not like Barbie?"

"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.

He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."

It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.

“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”

He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.

El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”

She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.

“You are worse than Dad.”

“That stings, Ellie Bell.”

She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”

“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”

“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”

He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”

“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”

He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.

"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.

"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."

He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.

Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.

His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.

It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."

And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.

He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."

Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.

Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.

And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."

Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."

Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.

"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.

"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."

"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."

And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."

Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."

Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"

"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.

"The girls don't think I'm hot."

He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.

"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.

"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."

"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."

The things he'll say to get laid.

"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though." 

His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.

"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."

-

He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.

So he lets opportunity pass him by.

He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.

Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)

Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.

He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.

He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.

-

Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.

He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.

When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.

"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"

"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.

Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic. 

He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.

"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"

"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.

"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.

"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.

"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.

"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."

Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.

"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."

"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."

"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"

"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.

"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"

"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.

"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.

"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"

[matthewswifeyx]

Dad!Matt headcannons <3

Banner credits to @bernardsbendystraws

Dad!Matt who never raises his kids to be brats and acting spoilt

Dad!Matt who literally freaks out anytime his kids get hurt, even if it's a small scrape from playing on a tiny skateboard or even dropping a plastic knife on their feet. One time Matt's son fell down the stairs as a toddler and he went as white as a ghost mom!reader thought he was going to pass out. But in the end, Matt's son had a few tears but was alright.

Dad!Matt who does anything and everything to prevent his kids from getting sick, he will make all of his kids suit up in hats, scarfs, coats, and gloves at the beginning of the fall season. He doesn't his babies to get poorly :(

Dad!Matt who reads books to all of his kids every night, this encouraged them to read by themselves and all find their love for books, just like their daddy.

Dad!Matt who will always be there for his kids whether it is emotionally, physically or mentally he will offer the best advice he can give anyone.

Dad!Matt who pushes his kids to do things that he wouldn't have been able to do when he was their age, like asking shop workers where specific things were in the store to build up their confidence.

Dad!Matt who always participates in dressing up for halloween. When the kids were younger, Dad!Matt would always come up with a family costume but as the kids got older Matt still dressed up even if it was just a couples costume with you. His ideas were the best.

Dad!Matt who hosts the best birthday parties for his kids. He is going all out, he would hire a bouncy castle and a kids entertainer just so he could see his kids gleaming faces on their birthday.

Dad!Matt who is excellent on the grill, his kids love his hamburgers and speciality hot dogs.

Dad!Matt who shows his kids all of the TV shows he watched when he was a kid.

Dad!Matt who would anything for his kids even if they only mentioned it once, one time his son spoke about how he enjoyed his painting class and the next day Matt had bought him a full art set and a brand new easel.

Dad!Matt who loves play fighting with his children, he loves seeing their laughing faces when Matt beats them and tickles them.

Dad!Matt who lets his silly side shine through as soon as he has children.

Dad!Matt who makes sure that his children all feel like they have their own identity and aren't defined by their siblings and family successes.

Dad!Matt who buys loads of toys and accessories to make his kids' playroom their safe space and make them feel as comfortable as possible.

Dad!Matt who loves helping his kids with pre-k homework and showing them how to do word searches. But when they reach Middle school he has never felt so lost when it came to their homework.

Dad!Matt who helps his children fight their fears. If one of his kids is scared of dogs, Matt would take them to the park and would encourage them to stroke dogs while they would have a walk.

Dad!Matt who hosts movies nights with his family full with an endless supply of snacks and treats. He would even invite Nick and Chris' families to join as well!

Dad!Matt who would take mom!reader and his kids to Boston every time school was out. He would take his kids to specific spots that Matt grew up going to and he would tell them all stories about his childhood while acting it out in the spot.

Dad!Matt who would buy lego sets to build for each of his kids bedrooms so it would compliment your decorations that you designed the bedrooms with.

Dad!Matt who does so many arts and crafts with his kids, whether it is using a cardboard box to make a time machine or using used plastic bottles to create a shop that the kids can play pretend with.

Dad!Matt who loves dressing up and playing pretend with his kids. Matt really gets into character if he is pursuing the role of a fairy godmother or a ninja with his kids. Matt would create the most imaginative story lines when playing barbies with his daughter or action figures with his son.

Hey guys! I hope you really enjoyed these headcannons! Dad!Matt hols a special place in my heart! If you have any requests/suggestions please do not hesitate to send me a quick message and i will try and get back to you asap! <3

[screeching-incoherently]

i'm a barbie girl! in a barbie world! i smell like burning plastic! and my mind is as elastic as the fabric of space!

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Plastic Hearts - (14)

<<<Prev Next>>>

---

Warnings: kissing, lots of kissing

---

“I can’t let you go again.”, he said it without a pause, his eyes pinning you in place, the resolve in those blue orbs were unshakable. The jacket slid down his arm but he caught it by the collar as he leaned on the doorframe, waiting for you to explain your return.

“I can’t let you die.”, you folded your arms, meeting his gaze with the same resolve. There was a pause, an agreement spoken through your eyes, a confirmation that neither was running away from the other.

He hummed as he pushed away, the sparkle in his eyes turning into the lustrous ink of confidence. He reached forward, his hand grabbing your waist as his finger looped into the belt hoop of your jeans.

He pulled you in and your blood rushed with the sense of having won the game. Your hands knew where to go as you placed them on either side of his neck, while he placed his other hand on the other side of your waist, locking you in between his legs as he rested himself against the wall. There was no where to run now.

“Why?”, he asked, his voice turning raspy.

His eyes fluttering to a close as you traced his cheek. His breath hitching in his throat, his skin turning red where you touched him. There was no plastic sheen here. His skin was soft to touch, the stubble on his jaw deliciously rough. You brought your fingers down to the top of his lips. His eyes letting you know that he was losing his self control as he leaned down, his fingers tracing up the curve of your hips.

“Apparently I’m the only Barbie without a Ken.”, you said as you drew your fingers down his neck.

“And I’ve tried, to not want you. To not love you.”, your eyes drinking in the sight of him, hanging on to every word that your uttered.

“But I do. I don’t think I can love another man, like I love you.”, you smiled and he hummed taking in your response. His hands not letting you go, your hands telling him you were all his.

“I really want to kiss you.”, he said it with a gentleness that still held a certain hunger in his voice.

“I don’t know how.”, you replied shyly. You had never been kissed before and somehow admitting that to him, you were sure he was going to make fun of it.

But instead you felt his hand cusp the side of your face, to then slowly tilt it up till your eyes caught his again.

“We can figure it out together.”, he grinned and you closed your eyes as he pulled you to him. His soft lips touching yours that it was better than any dream you could have ever made up. It was sweet and soft like you were coming home. Your soul not feeling restless for once, as though this was how it was always meant to be.

He pulled away to then realize you had both held your breaths, your lips tingling as his warmth made it thrum with life. But with one kiss out the way, you only craved more, for all these years, for having finally found him now. You pull him back by the collar of his shirt and he picked you up to have your legs wrap around his waist. Giving you the height to hold the sides of his face while his hands slipped beneath your top to roam the expanse of your back.

He hummed as he walked you over to his bedroom, you broke away to catch your breath. But it didn’t stop him, his lips travelled down your neck and over your collarbone. The dark room brought to life by the lights of the city made it all the more magical, that the world had melted away to just exist within the walls of this space.

“We still have the world to save.”, you mumbled in his ears as you smiled, resting your chin on his shoulder as he kissed the length of your shoulder as he placed you down gently on his bed.

The smile on his face was evident, that even in the dim light it was clear he was glowing. He pushed away your hair from your forehead to lean down and kiss it.

“The world can wait for a day.”, he spoke against your skin which got you to chuckle. For your finger to reach out to his shirt to pop open the buttons. Noticing what you desired, he didn’t make you work for it, he stood back to pull away his shirt, his skin gleaming like Barbie land was still an inherent part of him.

He crawled over to you and you pulled him close, your hands getting lost in his hair as he laid a fresh trail of kisses from your sternum up to the underside of your jaw.

Taking in a deep breath as he kissed your cheek, he stayed there in that moment, as though this was all he had ever wanted. Utterly satisfied, he plopped down on his bed next to you, to stare at the ceiling like you were.

His fingers found yours, to intertwine them together to then place in on his bare chest. His heart beating wildly beneath, you turned to him, to place your cheek on his shoulder as you both caught your breath.

“How are we going to save Barbieland?”, you questioned. But his answer was instant and without hesitation.

“Together.”, he replied as if it was a no-brainer. Like that was how it was meant to be. He inhaled a sharp breath as if something disturbed him.

“Is that what the tunnel revealed to you? That you don’t have a Ken?”, he asked perplexed to which you nodded your head.

“Just like it said you needed a Barbie to exist.”, you pitched a point from what he had said earlier.

“What garbage.”, he broke out laughing and that got you to laugh along with him too.

“You’ll always have a Ken.”, he turned to face you.

“As long as I’m around.”, his eyes softened.

“Oh I plan on keeping you around forever.”, you said as you caught his eyes.

“Good.”, he mumbled.

“So the skates – you began but he grumbled to pull you into a hug.

“Tomorrow.”, he whined and you laughed against his skin.

“Fine.”, you conceded as you felt the smooth panes of his back. This was your time together.

But the more you welcomed and accepted his love, you saw the necklace he wore begin to light up. Your gasp had caught his attention and when he opened his eyes, the room had a soft golden glow that emanated from the pendant.

“What is that?”, you questioned as he turned to marvel the way the light lit you up.

“The compass that led me to you.”, he whispered and you took the pendant in your hand, the tiny crystal ornament containing a little magic of Barbie land in it.

“But in all this time, it has all well become an extension of my own heart.”, he held back your hair that was falling forward as he said it.

You were brimming with happiness like never before so you only had one thought that crossed your mind.

“Now that it's purpose has been fulfilled, let it now store my love for you. When it gets dark, it will remind you, that my love is yours and that you are mine.”, you spoke into the pendant and it began to glow brighter. The spell to find you will now be complete and in it’s place your wish will turn it into an enchantment, that will remind he was loved, always.

The magic began to thrum and the glolden light swirled to shine pink before it returned to it’s crystal state.

“I will not be returning this pendant to weird Barbie.”, he chuckled as he held onto it.

“She’s going to hunt you down for it.”, you got up and he furrowed his brows.

“Where are you going?”, he asked as he propped himself up on his elbows.

“To go back to my place. To get started on finding those skates.”, you had hardly taken a step away before he reached out to catch your arm.

“And we’ll do that together … tomorrow.”, he reeled you back in as you laughed quietly.

“Ok.”, you found your way back into his arms with no intent of leaving, unable of escaping his charm.

You complained about not having a change of clothes and he graciously gave you on of his pajama sets that was too large on you but it was more cozy than anything you had owned. He made you a warm cup of tea because you had asked for it while you relished the sight of him being busy by the kitchen.

He only wore his soft track pants, and his hair wasn’t neatly combed back anymore, it was mess from where your fingers had been but it added to his appeal. That he was yours and it sunk deeper than before. Being here meant living a life like this, a life you chose without having to abide to rule books and advertisements.

He went ahead to wash his face and use take time to shave his stubble before going to bed. So you kept him company as you sat on top of the bathroom counter, having discussions about your workplace struggles and what he was planning to do for his class in school and other avenues in which he wanted to grow. It felt good. To be equal, to hold each other in the same respect and love. Because neither was one above the other.

He put away his razor as you held the towel, asking his to step closer so you could wipe away the foam but as you did so, he eyes tracked you with mischief on his mind. His hair now damp and slicked back as he smelt like minty aftershave.

His lips looked plump as you pulled away the towel and you couldn’t help yourself. So you placed your lips on his and you could feel his smile against your lips.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this.”, he sighed with bliss as he helped you down.

He got in beneath the covers and you lied down next to him, somehow coming to understand that it was never the place but the person that you could feel at home anywhere, whenever you were with him.

“You do know Darcy would have only kissed Elizabeth after he had married her.”, you turned to him poking fun at his statement from earlier, his interest and love for Jane Austen’s books.

“I’ll marry you this instant if I could.”, he said sweetly as he turned to you.

But your lips parted in surprise and you couldn’t help but draw closer to him.

“Slow down, cowboy.”, you joked as his arm wound around your waist.

“We’ve got a lot of saving to do before we can think of our happily ever after.”, you said as you nudged his nose with yours.

“Alright, alright.”, he playfully accepted the terms to your condition.

“At least kiss me goodnight.”, he argued and you agreed.

Now that there was nothing else to do but to sleep, which neither of you had any plans of doing anytime soon. You shifted yourself by throwing your leg over his body such that you sat on his thighs. He smiled with excitement as his hands held you steady.

You leaned forward to kiss him again, slowly as he matched your rhythm, to give you the space to catch your breath and yet find avenues to dig deeper, the edge of his teeth grazing against the skin of your lips, that this could go on for hours till sleep flooded your eyes. That his sleepy murmurs of adoration filled you up with a joy you never knew existed.

It was to make up for all the time that had been lost without the disturbance of the day and the problems of Barbieland. This night was exclusively yours and therefore you chose to use it wisely.

---

Tags:

@imogen-skye @ateliefloresdaprimavera @meowkid1000 @jokersgrf @linacool13 @oh-kurva @dreamsarenicer @memospacexx @haleysucks00 @ibetyouthinkaboutmefics @tempobaekh @fallingwallsh @whatafreakingloser @lcversrockk @imonmyvigilanteshh @constellationscharts @eddiemunson4ever @freyafriggafrey @neptunelixir @iamruiningmylife @floralsightings @ynbutbetter @lazyboikat @mrharringtonsbae @spookyscellar @harleyquinn03041998 @haydensith @thatgirljas13 @weasleytwinscumslut @bl00dy-murd3r @itstylersblog @papichulo120627 @lee-lee-23 @dazeglitter-blog @urmom24sworld @chaos-in-person @aremos @theoriginalwife000 @undercover-being-whack @puredreamagination @h-l-vlovesvintage @krazyk99 @agustdeeyaa @bluebear19 @porterport @urahara24 @wvndamaximilf @berlinswifey @suzirumas

[avatar-anna]

Shopping Spree

i keep seeing videos of parents taking their kids to target and letting them buy whatever they want as long as it fits in their little shopping cart, and i just had to do that for my favorite family!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

“Okay, Maeve, you know the rules, you can get whatever you want, as long as it fits in the shopping cart.”

Maeve nodded, her little four year old hands gripping her shopping cart like she didn’t need the instructions and just wanted to get started. Still, she smiled at where Y/n was holding her phone up to film. Her nose crinkled as she moved from foot to foot. “Yes, Mama. I know.”

“Alright then. Go crazy, my love.”

Giggling, Maeve set off down the main aisle. “Makeup section first!”

“Makeup section? She—She’s four she doesn’t need—”

Y/n turned her phone camera toward her husband for a moment. “Anything she wants, remember?”

Harry was the one who suggested this little shopping spree. Ever since the world began to open up again, Y/n and Harry started letting the kids out of the house more. They were adjusting to the normal world again after being locked up, wearing masks to school, washing their hands, making new friends, dealing with the separation from their parents after being with them 24/7 for so long. Everyone except Maeve, who Harry and Y/n were told was having a hard time at school socially. She didn’t want to participate in class and cried throughout the day, sometimes wouldn’t let Julian play with the other children, and not making any effort to make friends. “It’s not uncommon. Lots of children are struggling to adjust, and she’s just used to a specific way of living,” her preschool teacher said when she asked for a meeting with Y/n and Harry. 

So to cheer Maeve up, Harry decided she needed a shopping spree. Y/n all but rolled her eyes at the suggestion, but he insisted that retail therapy worked wonders for him. She finally caved, but only until they agreed on finding other ways to help out as well. Harry just kissed his wife before putting his wallet in his bacl pocket. “Well duh. Now come on. Today’s gonna be great.”

So now they were trailing behind their four year old as she pushed her little red shopping cart. 

“Ooh. This looks pretty!” Maeve said, grabbing an eyeshadow palette with all sorts of sparkly pink and purple shades and dropping it into the cart.

Maeve continued on, working through the makeup section, the clothes, where she found some very cute sunglasses and a denim jacket, then the toy section. The three of them spent a lot of time in the toy aisles. Barbie dolls, a Rapunzel costume, plush candy hearts, and—

“Shopkins we have to get Shopkins,” she said, reaching on her tip toes for a collection of toys in bright pink plastic wrapping.

“You’re running out of space there, sweet pea,” Harry said, eyeing the cart. It was his idea to let his daughter roam free throughout the store, but he didn’t expect her to fill the cart so much. Or be so good at fitting everything just right.

“It’s fine,” Maeve said, then continued on to the next aisle.

Before long, Maeve was stuck with making decisions on what to keep in the cart and what to leave behind. Which Barbie to keep, where to fit that stuffed animal. For a moment, Maeve stood and stared at all the things she piled into her shopping cart, another box in her hands. Then, she turned to Harry.

“You can just hold this one,” she said, handing the box over to him.

Harry nearly took it from his daughter’s outstretched hand before Y/n stepped in. “Hang on there, Maeve. Those weren’t the rules,” she said, trying to hide her laughter.

Maeve pouted at her for a moment, and unsurprisingly, so did Harry. But then she shrugged and switched out one box so she could fit the other one in and carried on.

“Tyrant,” Harry muttered.

“Pushover,” Y/n muttered back, then kissed his cheek.

As they were heading back to the front of the store, Maeve stopped as she saw a pair of sparkly blue shoes hanging up on a rack that was well within her reach. She immediately grabbed a pair, and Y/n almost said she didn’t have any room for the shoes when Maeve simply hooked them onto something else in the cart. “There! All done!”

Harry had to hide his face in Y/n’s shoulder so he wouldn’t laugh loudly and bring attention to them. Y/n covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled quietly and continued to film. She had to hand it to her daughter, she was as crafty as Y/n was and as willing to do anything to buy what she wanted as Harry. A perfect mix of the two.

Maeve strolled up to the cash register, slipping some last minute candy into her cart before she began placing her things on the conveyor belt. She had a smile on her face the whole time, especially when the cashier marveled at all of the things she’d crammed into the little shopping cart. Harry had to admit that he hadn’t seen his daughter this excited or social in a long time. Maeve showed the older woman behind the counter all the things she found, pulled out the bills from the pockets of her little jean shorts that Harry gave to her a few aisles back, and put the change in the brand new purse she bought once the woman handed it over to her.

Y/n and Harry helped Maeve get her bags into her shopping cart, and all three of them waved goodbye to the cashier as they left the store. Maeve skipped the whole way, ecstatic about all the things she bought all by herself. When they got to the car, Harry lifted her up and into his arms and kissed her cheek.

“Have fun today, peach?”

Maeve nodded. “I got so much stuff!”

Harry helped her into her car seat while Y/n slid into the passenger seat. She turned back to look at Maeve, who was already asking Harry to open toys sealed in plastic. “You know, Maeve,” she said. “There’s some really cool stuff you could show to your classmates, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” she said, not sounding particularly excited or daunted by the task. “I think I’ll just show Collette and JuJu.”

“Why don’t you want to show your friends at school, peach?” Harry asked, smoothing her hair back.

“I don’t need friends. I have JuJu and Collette and Simone and Mommy and Daddy,” she said, kicking her feet in her car seat.

Harry glanced back at Y/n, who just motioned for him to continue. She got the ball rolling, now it was up to him to take it home. He looked back at Maeve and gave her a small smile. “I love that you love your brother and sisters, Maeve, but there’s some really nice boys and girls at your preschool that could be your friends too.”

“Everyone already has friends at school.” Maeve said, looking down at her hands.

“Well, who do you sit next to during circle time?” Y/n asked.

“JuJu.”

“Okay…so maybe you and Jules can sit next to another kid during circle time,” Harry said, kissing her forehead. “You are the coolest four year old I know, and your family is so lucky because we get to see that all the time, but I think all those kids in your preschool class should be lucky too.”

Maeve was quiet, her brow furrowed as she thought about what Harry said. Both Harry and Y/n watched with bated breath, not sure where to go from here if she said no. Y/n had brought up seeing a specialist, but Harry wasn’t sure that was necessary yet, thinking she just needed to come out of her shell. And maybe they would have to have Maeve start seeing a behavior specialist, Harry would do anything to make his baby happy and healthy, but he didn’t think they were there yet.

“I think that would be okay,” Maeve finally said. “But not Samuel. He picks his nose. Bleh.”

Harry chuckled and kissed her again. “Not Samuel, then. Someone else. Maybe someone who likes Rapunzel like you do.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Y/n’s grin was wide as Harry slid into the driver’s seat. He buckled himself in, then lifted his hand up toward her. She high-fived him and held his hand as he pulled away from the parking lot and began the drive home. Squeezing his hand, she turned up the music on the radio with the other, then murmured to him so Maeve couldn’t hear, “Another excellent parenting moment.”

“We could write a book,” Harry mused.

“Mm. How to raise six—six—children,” Y/n said, correcting him when he tried to imply they might raise more than six children in the future. That would not be happening. “How to raise six children during the pandemic when you were already living in secret.”

Harry pouted, but Y/n let him. Then, he said, “Might have to work on the title. It’s a little clunky.”

“You’re a little clunky.”

“Oh. Very mature.”

“Mommy, can we make pizza tonight?”

Y/n looked back to where Maeve was holding one of her new stuffed animals. “Of course we can, peach. What are you going to do at school tomorrow?”

“Sit with JuJu and someone else during circle time.”

“And snack time?” Harry added.

“Don’t push it,” Maeve said.

“All right, all right,” Harry said. Then, quietly to his wife, he said, “If only she was that sharp at school.”

Y/n giggled. “Give it time. She’s our baby. She’ll be just fine.”

“Can we do that again tomorrow?”

At a red light, Harry and Y/n shared a look. They were both thinking the same thing, but only Harry said, “We’ve possibly created a monster.”

[probablyasocialecologist]

There are enough highways, apartments and offices, malls and hotels, restaurants and theme parks—this despite an ongoing crisis of housing affordability. In the over-carbonised economies of the world’s wealthiest countries, maybe we don’t need to build any more, or only do so in a very targeted manner: hospitals and archives, cooling centres, housing and amenities for climate refugees. Even in these cases, there is often the capacity to reuse and redistribute what we have—to reconsider the role of design as one of maintenance, repair, and adequate comfort.  Some buildings are needed. Class A office space and luxury condominiums, not so much. After the Covid lockdowns, the vacant office space in New York City could fill twenty-six Empire State Buildings. Seems like enough. Yet there are still cranes in the sky, still new towers on the boards—indeed, the production of the built environment (and not only in New York) is essential to a growth economy. Any form of enough-ness goes against this premise of relative economic strength being measured by growth, or really by the growth of growth—how much has the GDP gone up, and at what rate? To suggest that, individually or collectively, we already have enough goes against the very foundation of consumer culture. Many life worlds are organized largely, if not exclusively, around accumulation, wanting and getting more—more stuff, more space, more savings.  The health of the US economy in particular is measured by rates of consumer spending, and through this measure implicitly directs the global supply chain. What, for example, is the carbon cost of the resurgence of interest in Barbie? The plastics, the shipping, the advertising, the repainting of houses. And given the carbon intensive energy regime that hums beneath this always-growing global economy, all of this—stuff, space, savings—is dripping in oil, vibrating with carbon intensity, keeping the arrow of emissions pointed inexorably upwards. The Austrian/Puerto Rican economist Leopold Kohr referred to this as Skyscraper Economics—how high can we build? How much can an economy grow? Is there a measure of health, or wealth, that is not about this competitive increase, but about a horizontal redistribution? At last year’s Beyond Growth Summit in Brussels, this was framed as a distinction between “ecologically harmful growth competition and well being cooperation.” Architecture’s fealty to growth, investment, and financialization is caught up in this distinction, and faces the challenge of finding opportunities for creativity within a new set of constraints. Why, when a new building is announced on Instagram or in a glossy magazine by some proud firm or client, do we see square footage, a few swanky features, but no mention of the estimated carbon emissions of the building’s life-cycle?

[bellrose]

Pretty Phone in Pink

This little piece was born from @elusivewildflower "What if you had that Barbie phone as a burner phone", and my silly edition of "What if Court gave you a burner phone but it is a Barbie phone." The phone in question. This turned out more feels-y than silly, but oh well.

Summary: It's customary for Court to dissapear for weeks on end, only to re-appear the least you expect it. Sometimes you wished he would be more transparent on his wereabouts, if not to cease your worrying but to hear his voice when you miss him most. This time Court comes home with a solution to that.

Court Gentry x gender neutral reader

Warnings: implied injured!Court

Word count: 626

Court looked a bit sheepish when he handed you the box. As if he regretted not bundling it in some obnoxious wrapping paper, glitter and a bow on top. An image of a battered Court Gentry folding the creases of some papery design around the gift while laying low in some shithole or another made you stifle a chuckle. And a little tickle in your stomach.

The box was carton, no labels, very much very nondescript. Like a giddy child on Christmas morning you tore the tape off. Another box inside, gleaming plastic. A pink box.

“What-” you started, then paused. It was a phone. A pink phone. A Barbie phone. “You got me a phone.”

“Yes,” Court answered, pushing himself off the kitchen counter. Every movement a bit halted, as if every shift of his muscles was carefully considered, which they probably were.

Court was a master in pretending and you had no idea what kind of injury he was hiding underneath that hoodie. You asked, of course, when he dragged himself into your apartment through the fire escape looking every bit like a wet cat who got the cream upon your reaction to his sudden appearance.

You knew where he had been, or well, not exactly where but you knew he had been gone for the past week doing whatever Court did when he disappeared in a puff of smoke and the dregs of burnt coffee in your favourite mug. A Barbie mug with a chip in the ear and the print of Skipper faded from the many journeys through the dishwasher.

His mug now, but that was one of the things that had been left unspoken.

As much as Court kept his activities guarded from your scrutiny - though he would atone for those sins later when you dragged him into the bathroom to examine, as there was more to WikiHow than ‘how to be a mermaid’ - now his face was like an open book.

Court could speak so much without uttering one word. Sometimes you wanted to punch him for it. His honest affection and the maelstrom of feelings that lit a blush on your cheeks. The implication of the gift was clear.

“I thought you said,” you paused, cleared your throat. Too loud in the kitchen. “That it would be safer for me not to contact you when you…” Are busy trying not to get shot at.

Court winced.

“You can use it as a burner phone,” he said, holding your gaze. “I know the last few months have been hard on you. On us. And- I didn’t want you to be in danger, not anymore.”

From the front pouch of his hoodie, he pulled out a sturdy flip phone. Unlike the screaming pink, it was a slate grey. It reminded you of the Nokia’s of your youth. Inconspicuous and seemingly indestructible. Like him.

“Next time I’m gone,” he held up the phone, “You can call me, and I’ll try to answer.” Then he smirked. “Unless you aren’t interested in a bed time story.”

You rolled your eyes. “If it involves another rant on pickles, please do spare me.” “Hm, what’s wrong with counting pickles instead of sheep?”

You set the box down on the dinner table and took a step forward, crowding his space. “Thank you. I know this must be difficult for you.”

“I imagine not as difficult as having to worry if I’d ever come back to you at all,” he said, voice low in a whisper.

“But you’re here now.”

“Yes.”

You carded your fingers through his fringe, still wet from the rain outside. Tracing your thumb down his temple, over his cheek, resting just underneath his lower lip. The stubble scratching your skin.

“Tell me another story.”

Is the Barbie movie canon in The Gray Man movie-verse? Perhaps.

Thank you for reading

[professorofcosplay]

Murder Drones Headcanons since I have brainrot

— Uzi loves playing Mario kart with N since he’s a terrible driver because she always wins. She’s not above that. 

— Tessa wanted to be a hairdresser or in R&D for computer science when she grew up and loved practicing on her drones. She was leaning towards hair, though she had a knack with drones. You can imagine what her parents thought of these career leanings.

— J actually changed hair/wigstyles quite a bit because of this. The wildest “phase” was bubblegum pink. Her parents made her throw out the mohawk wig. :(

— J genuinely loved/loves Tessa, possibly even more than any of the others did; she just also faced the most punishment since she was the drone with Tessa the most and therefore she was the easiest to get ahold of. Thus, she faced Tessa’s parents’ wrath more often and was even more afraid of them than the others. This led to a sort of learned helplessness/submission in her that was hard to unlearn. 

— J is actually very, very self conscious. She’s isn’t a bully just to be a bitch but because she thinks it will save her from being the focus of someone’s wrath. Scapegoating at its finest. (Though she still is a bitch.)

— J steals the wigs from workers she kills and wears them sometimes. She doesn’t know exactly why; it just feels oddly familiar. 

— The three DDs all snuggled like a pile of puppies in the space pod when in sleep mode. The pod can be programmed for a destination but has to be piloted (or lack thereof) to the surface so they could just snooze until initial descent (and they did!). 

— Antifreeze is the drone equivalent of Monster energy drinks, so, naturally, Uzi lives off the stuff. 

— Most drones actually make their own wigs!   A lot of them are from thin wires they’ve scavenged from Copper 9’s wreckage, though there’s some made from melted plastic like faux hair human wigs. 

— Thad collects Nerf guns. They’re more fun than the real thing for him. That’s one thing Uzi and Thad can chat about for hours. 

— Thad and Uzi also collaborate (and compete) on pranks!  They have a prank hit list of workers they want to mess with and whoever checks everyone off first is the winner. Their favorite was replacing Lizzy’s lip gloss with oil. Cruel, yes, but the gross-out factor had them in stitches for at least an hour. 

— Thad has a JROTC-like chapter of the WDF as an after-school club. It’s mostly just LARPing with his Nerf collection.  

— V bites the tips of her claws as a nervous habit. They’re a bit dented and scuffed because of this.  

— Khan is a magnet user to cope with the stress of the colony’s existence on his shoulders, the loss of Nori, and single parenting. He doesn’t really tell anyone about it and is pretty high functioning. 

— N is a huge fan of stickers!  He has found a few packs of them and loves decorating himself/paper/Uzi’s hoodie when she’s not looking/pretty much everything them. 

— V and J are girl’s girls.

— Lizzy has painted V’s claws Barbie pink before. V absolutely adored how it turned out.

— Doll was adopted by Lizzy’s parents after her own family died and while she hides out at her old home to hide her consumption of oil/etc a lot of the time, she actually lives at Lizzy’s; this is why they’re so inseparable. 

— Speaking of Lizzy, the only one to mourn Doll’s loss will be Lizzy and her family, though Uzi will make every attempt to give her and what’s left of her parents’ remains a decent resting place.   — Humanized Khan is buff.

— Khan once threw Uzi a birthday party. None of her classmates showed up (though Thad did send a very nice card) so she only got one present. Guess what it was? 

[raquellemonsta]

accidental perfect match (kirishima eijirou x reader)

masterlist

happy halloween!

this is my first mha related post! I love kiri so who better than him <3 hope you like it :)

----

so far, college had been the most draining experience of your life. that's why you were relieved when it finally came time for halloween: the quintessential college holiday. it being your freshmen year, you were excited to get a taste of your first official 'halloweekend'. in fact, you had spent the past hour getting ready with a few of your friends, now making the trek down to the frats.

for your costume, you had gone with the totally-not overdone barbie from the new movie (that you'd gone to see three times when it first came out). specifically, you chose the one from the rollerblading scene, mostly for the cute, bright colors. it was a win-win because it kept you somewhat modest while also exposing enough skin that you wouldn't be entirely overheated.

you didn't fully commit, as you were without the rollerblades themselves, though the entire walk down to frat row made you thank your lucky stars you weren't barreling down any hills. there were tons of other people out walking, and the closer you got to the houses the more people there were. it was nice to see everyone in costumes

you ended up getting in to a house through one of your friends (who claimed she knew a "mirio"), even though the guy at the door probably would've let you in anyway. your friends were much quicker than you and made it through the door faster than you.

upon walking in, you decided to head for the living room. the room was bathed in a deep purple from led lights, along with random 'spooky' decorations thrown haphazardly all over the space. there was beer pong set up on some cheap folding table to the far side of the room, while in front of you some people were playing flip cup. you decided to just watch, not really in the mood to get start drinking just yet.

you were intently watching flip cup for who knows how long, when there was a commotion from the beer pong players. a blond dude was raging and threw down one of the plastic cups (it looked like he had missed), while his teammate on the other side was standing there typing away on his phone. the general volume of the room caused the already chaotic scene that the blond guy was making to amplify, reaching a high when you heard an excited yell and watched a guy wearing rollerblades barreled into the table and broke it in half.

he was wearing a costume almost identical to your own.

the angry blond looked like he was going to murder the man that was now sprawled out over the table and now-crushed cups. he started telling him off, and even over the loud music and dozen other people talking you could hear him yelling obscenities, as the man on the ground only laughed and removed the skates. that was when the blond somehow felt unfamiliar eyes staring at him and looked up directly at you. his eyes widened for the briefest second before you saw his eyebrows knit in confusion, looking between you and the guy on the ground. you could barely make out the way he began talking to him in a much more level tone and-

he looked over at you. you barely registered as he rose to his feet and started to walk over to you. your eyes widened, and you started to look around the room for either of the friends you came with. to your horror, they were nowhere to be found. you shift your eyes back in front of you and your stomach sinks as you make direct eye contact with the redheaded stranger.

"i like your costume" he grinned. you were immediately drawn to his smile, with strangely sharp teeth that seemed slightly unnatural. you couldn't ignore how attractive he was though, even in the dark room you were entirely captivated by him. his gorgeous red eyes caught your attention, and you couldn't help but notice a tiny scar above his right one.

"i wasn't brave enough to actually wear the skates" you quietly laughed, causing his smile to become even brighter. he leaned in closer to hear you better, and you felt your heart skip at the close proximity to such a handsome man. sure, lots of guys at college were somewhat attractive, but this one was entirely sexy, for lack of a better word. "that was quite a stunt".

"would you believe me if i told you i'm completely sober right now?" you looked at him incredulously. no way…

"i believe you" you blurted out before you could even think of a response. he chuckled at the slightly embarrassed expression on your face, and you swore you could see a slight pink tint to his cheeks.

"i'm glad i have a beautiful barbie's trust" he smoothly responded, though not in a creepy, overly-flirty way. it was sweet.

"well this barbie's name is (y/n)" you attempted to flirt back, though you slightly cringed at the unnatural way you said it. you were literally acting like a character straight out of a cheesy rom-com. he didn't seem to care though,

"eijirou" he slightly bowed. you were coming to find he was quite the gentleman. the two of you shared some more small talk, though most of it was spent intently gazing into each others eyes and feeling your heartbeat against your ribs.

"can we get a picture?" you finally asked. you had been thinking about it for most of the conversation, that this was just too perfect a coincidence to pass up. he gave you another one of his big grins before pulling his phone out and taking several pictures. it was definitely going to make your instagram. you quickly typed your number into his phone and smiled when your phone buzzed, looking down to go through the pictures.

"will you dance with me?" he suddenly spoke again. you looked up in slight shock and then nodded your head, unable to keep the involuntary smile from breaking out over your face. you had been smiling so much with him tonight that your cheeks were on fire. it was so worth it though.

"yes" you were able to verbalize, just loud enough so he could hear you. you were suddenly so aware of the speakers booming in the backyard, the structure of the house vibrating and filling your body with an exciting rush.

"give me a second". you watched him in slight confusion as he turned around, staying in the same spot he was in. he pumped his fist in happiness and yelled:

"sublime!"

you definitely have a big, fat crush.