#truly worlds most perfect pony

[prettypurpleponies]

Today I re-learned that the answer is always more leg, and more leg than you think it should be.

The jumps went up for the last round and my itty bitty squeeze or there squeeze of jump please was ignored and we added a stride and chipped all the jumps 🤦‍♀️ (but good girl miss Luna for still jumping them) so we did the last two again and Luna jumped from exactly where I told her too and nearly left me behind…. But then the very last jump was good!

And forever shoutout to Luna for being the best pony ever and putting up with all my learning

[infictionalwonderland]

hot physiotherapist | j.potter

SUMMARY, james has a rugby accident and has to take physiotherapy - he’s pretty down about, but all that depressions forgotten as soon as he sees you, his physiotherapist. why had he not done this sooner?

James Potter was miserable.

A very odd occurrence, although it did happen (evidently). He was pouting the whole way as Remus drove them to the physiotherapists, Sirius was giggling to himself in the backseat the whole time—Remus, ever the angel he was, tried to cheer James up by giving him complete control over the music in the car and even greeting him with his coffee order and a chocolate croissant.

James was still miserable.

“Have fun, darling boy!” Sirius chirped out the window as James got out of the car, “try not to break any bones on your way in. God forbid you need physiotherapy.”

He burst out into borderline manic cackles and fell down completely into the row of backseats, never one to wear his seatbelt as he hated being constricted—James glared with upmost venom and hatred at the backseat windows, Tarzan looking cunt.

“I hope everything goes well.” Remus’ voiced gently, shooting his boyfriend a blank stare even as he tried to stop his own amusement. “D’ya want me to fetch you any food or anything for you when you come out?”

“No. Thanks.”

Remus winced.

James was still miserable.

He trotted his way indoors, cursing inside his head at the shooting pains all up his back and his hips, with the largest pout there ever was he made his way over to the reception and told them who he was—why he was here, before behind asked to take a seat in one of the rooms where he would be joined shortly by the physiotherapist.

He sat, frowning at the large room with equipment and soft turquoise coloured walls for a short about of time and then the door opened.

And then his world stopped.

In you stepped. . your hair was tugged into a low ponytail, front strands out of the pony to frame your face. He had died, he was certain. Your skin looked so soft, the beaming white lights giving you the most heavenly glow, he was sure you were an actual angel. Your eyes gleamed beautifully, and he was lost in the exact shade of them—trying to pinpoint every little detail and speck of colour. Your lips were pulled into such a fucking lovely smile, he could’ve melted (he did melt). Even from where you stood in the door, he was greeted in the pleasant aroma of your perfume and he felt like he was floating.

Your mouth was open—oh my god he was missing an opportunity to hear your voice—wait, what had you been saying. Balls.

“Um—h—muhuh?”

Double balls.

Your beautiful smile didn’t even waver in the slightest, though, amusement weaved it’s way into your eyes and created a mesmerising pattern into your irises that he forever engraved into his memory.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Mr Potter! My names Y/N and I’ll be your physiotherapist for the foreseeable future.” You grinned, walking closer to him, “Hopefully.”

Wha—was that flirting? No! You had said it in a normal tone, like Hi I hope I stay your physiotherapist because it is literally my job, James and I enjoy it. But—yeah, no. It was like that. You were so close to him now—so so much more beautiful up close, he didn’t think that was even humanly attainable.

“Yeah—i—I hope so too, ma’am.”

MA’AM?!

Somebody sedate me, he thought.

You didn’t seem thrown off or even slightly offended, or disgusted by him. Which was, good, really, really good.

Instead, you let out this little bubbly burst of laughter and fucking hell, James knew from that point he was gone and could never return. His eyes were probably comically wide and maybe in literal heart shapes but he could truly care less. He look at you in awe—your nose scrunched when you laughed, your eyes squinted and to James you just became even more perfect.

“Please, call me Y/N—Ma’am sounds overly American anyway—“

“Would you prefer Miss?”

I’m never leaving the house again.

You blinked.

He almost stumbled to his knees in apology though that would obviously only give you the impression he was more of a creep than you already thought he was—but—hold on. He watched, mouth falling open just slightly, as your cheeks flushed a very very pretty pink and your mouth formed into the cutest smile he’d ever seen in his entire life.

He was definitely leaving the house again, and it was going to be to come here everyday.

“Just Y/N is fine, thank you for being so considerate though.” You laughed teasingly.

“Can I be upgraded to just James?”

“Oh? You don’t want to he called miss? Or Ma’am?” You grinned at him, white teeth glistening from under your full lips, cheeks turning a faint rosy shade under the strength of your grin and a strand of hair swooping in front of your eye. He was in love. “Or, Sir maybe?”

Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

James is one hundred percent that he would’ve fallen over fast first had he been standing and he’s never been more thankful he’s not. He can feel his cheeks turn red—his face heating up to an embarrassingly tomato red state at an embarrassingly quick rate.

“Nah—Ju—Just James, please.” He huffed out, moving the material of his shirt dramatically off his chest and fanning himself. “Is—um, is it hot in here or is just you? Me! Is it just me?!”

You smile at him, adorably crinkle eyed and slightly pink cheeked, looking every bit the goddess and the angel James already knew with certainty that you were.

James Potter was, as it turns out, no longer miserable.

In fact, he can’t wait for his next appointment.

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

��First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

[vegetabletaxi]

headcanons about harry anderson no one cares about but like 5 people and i

i need to stress he is in my brain daily and i need to get some thoughts out please talk to me about harry anderson egbert guys please /silly

⭐🧵headcanons under the cut 🧵⭐

🧵 it's stated in "the insiders" that he has stage fright, but we are not given an explanation as to where it came from.

i like to imagine it's because he grew up with so many successful people in his family circle. not just because they are gods - but because they have talents that they are incredibly successful at. he's not as funny as his father, he's not as smart as his mother, he's not as savvy as rose, etc etc- and yet, he was brought into the spotlight from an early age nonetheless, having mentioned being in magazines and such. but he never talked, or said a word. meaning, he hasn't shown the world his potential at all yet... and he's terrified of doing so and disappointing them. his family, his friends, even strangers. it's a lot of pressure. and the more he lets it fester, the worse it gets.

🧵 he's in the theatre club but he's never properly acted/sang in front of anyone or participated in a play.

he's only been responsible for costumes. he really wants to participate - he rehearses for months on end before auditions - only to chicken out last minute.

🧵 he loves making other people shine more than shining himself.

we know he makes clothes. clothes are an art of self expression - and he loves dressing other people up so they can show their true potential. plus...it distracts him from his own failures.

🧵 he makes clothes for people that really need it, does a lot of charity work. the homeless, orphans, other school's plays, small local movies, etc.

he just loves to help out. he is genuinely a friendly person that cares and likes to keep himself busy.

🧵 ...and he also does make up!

this falls into the same category as the clothes thing, i think. he has a vanity table in his room. it's not hard to imagine him helping out with that too whenever he can.

🧵 he has officially been excused from holding presentations at school, much to his peer's dismay.

roxy knows his glossophobia (stage fright) is pretty damn bad, so she asked the school not to have him participate in things like that. people in turn think that he gets special treatment because of his god mom. overall he's not disliked though. i just think most people don't really know him, and tend to think of him as somewhat of a snob, if a friendly one. however his grades are only painfully average, partly because of this.

🧵 his relationship with his mom isn't perfect

now don't get me wrong, roxy is great, and they love each other very much. but i do think she has trouble talking about problems, and difficult things in general, and tends to keep things on the lighthearted side, which makes it hard to communicate issues with her. harry anderson would rather pretend he's got everything under control than bother his mom with 'frivilous problems'. ...one of such being kind of uncomfortable with aunt jane when he gets older. plus, he really doesn't want to disappoint her. he feels like he already is.

🧵a master of imitation

he can imitate any voice he wants to with perfect precision, including his mom's. makes calls to the house from school a lot easier. though she's pretty sneaky and finds out about this eventually lol

🧵 probably kins rarity from my little pony /lhj

🧵 he has the last name 'egbert', despite lalonde sounding better, to keep john's father's name alive.

🧵 unlabeled

he is very well versed in lgbt topics, as roxy made sure to teach him, but he doesn't really care to think about himself that way

🧵 born intersex but they really stuck with the name harry anderson so they just assigned him male at birth

told him he's free to choose when he's older of course and roxy refused to do any surgery on him. he just kept going with it though. for one he doesn't truly care about gender but also it's the name his dad wanted him to have, and he misses him a lot.

🧵 he gets along well with kanaya

clothes making go brrr :)

🧵 john does visit for some holidays, which he's happy about. but the day after that, he finds himself extremely sad he's gone again. he never calls back.

i love john but he absolutely is stuck in his own little "theyre fake anyway" narrative. also he's depressed as shit L bozo. this leaves harry anderson with the irrational fear that if only he had been better, he would've stayed "this time".

🧵 played a ton of retro games, and watched a lot of retro movies as a kid, because of roxy and john's influence

he tries talking about it with others but they have no idea what the fuck he's talking about ever

🧵 sometimes roxy is too lazy to do her make up so she lets harry anderson do it in the mornings

just thought that was a cute little domestic thing they do

🧵when john finally comes out as june, he helps her pass better

seeing as harry is so good at voice imitation he can help her voice train, and of course would be more than happy to make clothes that flatter her figure. finally someone will indulge him in dress up :)

anyway that's it for now byeeee

[outlook-hater]

My 2024 in Kdramas

I'll try to be coherent. Try being the operative word.

A Shop for Killers - the premise definitely didn't let me down. Honestly it's kind of nice to see older actors kind of branching out of the regular romance/melo kind of shows and LDW was a great choice to play (spoiler!) the samchon who runs the titular shop for killers. Really do hope they announce a season 2 for this!

Goblin: The Lonely and the Great God - the man, the myth, the legend. How could I call myself a kdrama fan without having watched Goblin? The bromance really sucked me in. And the second leads deserved more screen time! That brings me to my next watch -

Touch Your Heart - what can I say? This show was a pure fanfic for the fans wanting more of the second couple from Goblin. And boy, did they deliver. Sometimes it's good to watch shows that don't take themselves too seriously.

Be Melodramatic - if you don't like character driven shows, this probably isn't for you. This is one of those shows that you just need to take in slowly and immerse yourself in the world of the leads to truly appreciate the joys and the struggles that they go through. There aren't enough women-centric shows in kdrama land and this is one of those shows that treat its FLs with respect and give them agency and character that most shows can't muster up. I'll definitely say Thirty Nine was guilty of trauma porn, but Be Melodramatic is a shining example of what you shouldn't do with women centric plotlines.

Mr. Queen - LAUGHING RIOT. Went into the show knowing nothing more than the bare minimum of the isekai plot and it was worth it. SHS is a master of physical comedy and I couldn't think of anyone else who could've done justice to the character of a 21st century man (who is also a womaniser) who finds himself trapped in the body of a 19th century Joseon era queen.

Marry My Husband - Finally, Park Min-young in a role that's different from her usual pony tail wearing, cutely dressed FL! But the true scene stealers were the SFL and SML and their crazy antics. If it weren't for the post ep 10 slump with the crazy ex girlfriend, this show would've figured among my top shows for this year. Which brings me to -

PERFECT MARRIAGE REVENGE - they say every masterpiece has its own cheap copy. But which one is the real masterpiece here? PMR is pure makjang deliciousness without a single dull moment (something MMH couldn't say). This show does what the title says without digressing from the topic at hand. It also subverted the classic trope of evil MIL, which I loved! All in all, a WILD ride.

Queen of Tears - Getting into the "big" shows of the year, QoT promised everything but did it deliver? I caught this show as it was airing and this blog features multiple rant posts as the show progressed solely for its digression from the promised plotline of the resolution of the Baekhong marriage, instead focusing on the succession drama and the mommy issues of the villain. This show devolved into a makjang that neither delivered on the soap operaness nor gave us proper closure on the main couple. Never have I ever felt so cheated by a show that I had such high hopes for 🥲

Lovely Runner - THE dark horse show of the year, the post QoT sleeper hit. I don't like high school dramas as a rule, and the initial GIFs were kind of offputting to me because of the high school setting - but I admit I fell into peer pressure because everyone was raving about it everywhere. And i simply had to check it out. And then I was glued to the show. Bonus: SUN-JAE YAA and a killer soundtrack!

Revenant - Horror isn't my thing but Kim Tae-ri very much is so I came for her, stayed for the plot. Loved the Korean folklore and mythology in this one, and the tightly woven plot. The few sleepless nights after watching the show were worth it xD

The Story of Park's Marriage Contract - boo, I just remembered I watched the show at the beginning of the year yet it wasn't memorable enough. Lee Se-young is wonderful as always, although the ML was kind of meh. Don't think I cared too much about the show for it to leave any kind of impression. Ambivalent.

When The Phone Rings - object of my affection and obsession currently. My Tumblr right now says everything i want to about this show 😂

Fated To Love You/You are My Destiny - extremely questionable premise that leads to the most delicious melodrama + romance + comedy + angst. I think this show has a whole lot of over the top moments, nevertheless it doesn't miss a beat with the emotional ones. Sometimes you need good old soapy angst in life and the leads did a great job of switching to some truly heartbreaking scenes after bizarre comedy. The ML's laugh deserves a starring role in this show, lmao

DNFs of the Year (watched more than episode and dropped)

Bad and Crazy - what was the point after the villain storyline was resolved? It was really good for the first 8-ish episodes but kind of lost momentum after that.

Strong Girl Do Bong-soon - This show has some loyal fans but I somehow didn't feel compelled to go back.

The Judge from Hell - I might go back to this show when the time is right. I never really liked Park Shin-hye but this show changed my opinion of her! The blood and the gore was getting a bit much for me, but I could be persuaded to watch the remaining when the time is right.

Because This is My First Life - I watched the original jdrama that this show is based off on this year and wanted to watch the kdrama too. I preferred the faster pacing and the economy of the We Got Married as a Job as compared to the long drawn out scenes of the kdrama. Got bored, hence DNF.

My Sweet Mobster - idk why I never felt like finishing this show, I watched 14 episodes in one go, came to the 15th episode and realised I just didn't want to watch it then, didn't watch it ever since. lol

Behind Your Touch - this show has one of the most bizarre plots ever thought of and it kept me hooked for a few episodes, I don't know why I never went back. Maybe I'll pick it up again someday.

Red Swan - Rain was truly doing all the hard work in this kdrama plot from 2014. The FL couldn't act her way out of a ditch and it was really offputting.

Healer - Look, I get it. Everyone's obsessed with this show and what's not to love about PMY as a plucky young journalist? One of those shows I could go back to one day, but not this year 😂

Love Next Door - Again a show with much potential but threw it out of the window with terminal illness. Maybe people just can get burnt out because of work and not a life threatening illness. Didn't want to relive QoT trauma again so DNFed.

Nevertheless - too much mess.

The World of the Married - too much makjang. This doctor be violating the Hippocratic oath on the regular.

Sky Castle - hits too close to home with academic pressure.

[someone-took-lost]

this silly little group. this dastardly trio of triumphant neighsayers.

meet; trixie and her partners <3

to most people’s surprise, trixie and maud got together first. and were a singular couple for a really long time, but starlight came along with some baggage attached to her. and they accepted her into the group very quickly.

they all love each other, though maud would be lying if they said they didn’t accept starlight into their coupling due to the fact she was trixie’s best friend. they do truly love trixie, and appreciate starlight. but they just can’t help but adore the way starlight makes their little lulamoon smile ,,,

starlight on the other hand is a bit of a wild card, who put herself into the duo’s life by showing up on their doorstep in tears. and after some weeks, put herself into their good graces and was accepted in with some charm and dedicated words. it’s not like starlight doesn’t want companionship- but she’d prefer if her life didn’t feel required to have it. so she happily accommodates trixie, and appeals to her happiness and wishes. and talks to maud as a friend. but other than that, she wants to rebuild herself. she’s done with her past, and is ready to remake her own life.

meanwhile, the great and powerful trixie is just floating on air, as they receive all the love and attention in the world from the ponies who matter most to them smother them in love~ they really are just happy, and are excited to have such a wonderful life. the great and powerful trixie does deserve only perfection after all! although, they would be lying if one asked if a part of trixie was worried that starlight might do something dangerous- but no matter! the great and powerful trixie is here to love and enjoy life as is !

[childrensward]

New series in my journal I'm starting called "Lil' Critic Reviews" where I review some of my favourite things! These are some of my favourite shows!

Text version under cut;

Toopy & Binoo

I know the visual style and animation really isn't that appealing, but it's a very important childhood comfort show for me. I see myself in Binoo a lot, and Toopy is the exact kind of person I'd want caregiving for me, so it's very cathartic to explore this dynamic through the show.

Thomas The Tank Engine

There's nothing I can say that would truly capture how much I adore this show (and the original Railway Series books too!) I think the model engines are the most adorable things I've ever seen and I love the set designs, and I love that, even though this is a series about talking trains, it still feels like Sodor is a real place that any kid can visit while still being whimsical. It bridges the gap between realism and one's imagination.

Gabby's Dollhouse

A newer show that I feel is highly underrated, and by the same creators of Blue's Clues! Gabby's Dollhouse feels almost like a spiritual successor, where instead of a man and his cartoon dog, it's a teenaged girl and her dollhouse of toy kitties who come to life! It's such a fun and colourful show with a lot of songs that are sure to get stuck in your head, please try it out sometime!!

Elmo's World

I'm putting this one instead of the main Sesame Street show because the networks I grew up on here in Canada didn't have Sesame Street at the time, but they sure did have Elmo's World! I love that everything in his world (except for him and Dorthey) is drawn out of crayons (and, according to Elmo, there might not be a way out of Elmo's World!) It's such a funny and cute show, I love it!

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

This show is so nostalgic for me!!! I think Lauren Faust is an incredible artist and I adore how her style really shines through in this show with the visuals. The characters are also so memorable and have made themselves pop culture icons. I also really like the world-building in the show, even if it's sometimes very messy and contradicts itself…

My Little Pony (G3)

More ponies!!!! I think this one is definitely more for comfort sake, I really like putting this show on when I'm having the regression blues because it's very soothing for me. I love how colourful it is, and it's such a nostalgic watch.

Bluey

This one's a mandatory one, but Bluey really is a beautiful show. So beautiful in fact, that I can't watch it for very long, otherwise I get so emotional from how healthily the Heeler family is depicted. They're far from being perfect, but they love each other, and it makes me so happy that the kids growing up today have a show like Bluey that shows them what a supportive and healthy family looks like.

Bob The Builder

This is one I'm starting to get back into, but I really love it hehe… I think the thing I love about it the most is the fact that each of the construction vehicles look like you could pick them up and play with them, and everything in their world is built like it was crafted by a kid! I also think Pilchard and Dizzy are adorable!!!

Pikwik Pack

Another show that I feel is highly underrated is Pikwik Pack! Through land, sea, and air, this crew of critters will make sure that any package gets delivered! I adore the visuals and artwork in this show- simple, yet so memorable and inspiring. It's pretty formulaic, so if it's perfect for when I want something reliable to watch.

[horse-reviews]

G4 My Little Pony

Rating: ƱƱƱƱƱ (perfect)

While these ponies have lost some of their truly horselike anatomy from prior generations I am most delighted by world of Equestria and find myself frequently revisiting it just to hear the word "everypony" spoken aloud. Applejack is my favourite pony due to her love of apples (which I find most relatable to the real-life horse)

[kitchenisking]

Fifth Night of Chunnuka

Seires Fic Rec Part 12

Pony by alisvolatpropiis - (If I Played You My Favorite Song) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,573, sterek)

“Thank you, you’ve been a great crowd,” he purrs, reaching a tattooed hand up to adjust the microphone. “I’m going to finish with something a little different.” He laughs quietly to himself and rolls his broad, black v-neck-clad shoulders like he’s steeling himself, the first time all night he’s seemed nervous. “This is, uh, another cover, and I’ve never actually performed it…ever. But I feel like tonight’s the perfect night for it.” He laughs again and takes a deep breath. “So yeah, please continue to be kind, folks.” The crowd cheers and the singer – Derek Hale – gives this little sly smile as he fiddles with the strings of his guitar for a second, those unbelievable eyes flashing over to where Stiles has been sitting all night. 

...

In which acoustic musician Derek Hale seduces Stiles with a modern R&B classic.

It's a Sparkly, Glittery Fairy by Anonymous - ( Who Can Take the Sunshine ) - ( Rating: G, Words: 4,154, sterek)

Derek and his five year old daughter meet Fairy Stiles at the market.

Stupid Derek by the_diggler - ( Stupid Derek) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,921, sterek)

Stiles should’ve known better. Stupid werewolves with their stupid werewolf hearing. He should’ve known better than to moan Derek’s name, no matter how quietly. But stupid Derek, with his stupid face, and beard, and abs… And okay, Stiles should’ve known better than to leave his bedroom window open while getting off. Because yeah, stupid Derek with his stupid lurking ways...

You Rock Hard, I Rock Steady by MereLoup - (Home At The Edge Of The World) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,422, sterek)

With nowhere to go and no monsters du jour to fight, Derek and Stiles get to take their time and enjoy one another in the most delicious of ways.

i'll be your dream by EvanesDust - ( truly madly deeply) - (Rating: G, Words: 2,022, sterek)

After years of pining, Stiles was surprised to find out that his crush on Derek wasn't so unrequited.

Take a bite out of life by Nival_Vixen  - (Incubus and Werewolf) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,274, sterek)

Stiles gets infected by vampire blood. According to a really old Russian text, he could become a blood-sucking monster like Bram Stoker's Dracula, an incubus-like blood-sucker who needs blood and sex to survive, or he could literally drain people's souls.

The hour of truth is approaching, as is the full moon. As such, Derek's the only one available to be stuck on Stiles-sitting duty, and is the only one there when Stiles finds out exactly what new piece he's becoming on the chessboard.

Permission To Mate? by ohhitsanna - (Just Let Me Court You!) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,593, sterek)

Stiles wants to ask Derek's Alpha if he can Mate Derek. Since Derek wouldn't let Stiles court him, he figures it's only fair that he ask his Alpha the traditional way.

The Smell of Bacon in the Morning by Jerakeen - (Scent of a Stiles) - (Rating: T, Words: 428, sterek)

"You smell like bacon."

Death of Morality by Brokenwords - ( The Virtue of Corruption Verse ) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,538, sterek)

The seats were hard vinyl connected to metal poles and harsh grating. Two years ago Stiles would have never imagined himself in this situation, but two years ago his father had still been alive and the things that went bump in the night belonged only in his nightmares. Now it was almost laughable, the guard up front, the cuffs on his wrists, the sway to and fro of the armoured prison transport chugging through the morning mist.

First and Last and Always by sffan - (First and Last and Always) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,789, sterek)

Derek is Stiles' first everything. A story about the progression of their relationship from first kiss to graduation.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Devotional Hours Within the Bible by J.R. Miller

Jesus the Healer (Matthew 8:2-17)

A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said: “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean!”

Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” Immediately he was cured of his leprosy!

After the Sermon on the Mount, we have narratives of many healings. The first was that of a leper. The case was remarkable because the disease was loathsome, contagious and incurable. The leper’s cry to Jesus was very earnest. He had no doubt of Christ’s power to cure him, “You can,” but he seems uncertain regarding His willingness to do it. Instantly came the answer, “I will.” As He said this He reached out His hand and touched him. Straightaway the cure was wrought. The man was ready to go back again to his home and to take his place once more in society. Marvelous always, was the touch of Christ. It never took defilement; it was so full of health that it cleansed the utmost loathsomeness! The same touch that changed the leper’s flesh into cleanness, changes the worst lives into whiteness and wholeness.

The next act of healing was wrought on a slave. A Roman centurion had a servant who was very sick and a great sufferer. Somehow the centurion had heard of Jesus and the wonderful works he was doing, and he went to Him beseechingly and told Him of his trouble. We learn more about this soldier from seeing him at Jesus’ door. He was greatly distressed, and yet it was not his child that was sick it was only his slave. This tells us what kind of a man the centurion was he had a gentle heart. All of us are continually manifesting what we are, through the little windows of our common, unconscious acts. By the way a boy treats his dog or his pony, or birds and insects, especially by his treatment of his sisters, and by his manner toward his playmates, and toward the poor and the weak he is showing what he really is.

We see here also the immortality of good deeds. It is sweet to be remembered, long after one has passed out of life, by what one has done. It was a great while ago that this centurion went on his errand but here we find his gentle deed set down among the memorials of Christ’s own life. This deed of the centurion’s is found imbedded on a gospel page. Every good deed done in Christ’s name, is recorded in God’s books and on human lives. It is worthwhile, therefore, to train our hearts to gentle thoughts and our hands to gentle deeds.

Jesus received the Gentile soldier most graciously and said at once He would accompany him home and heal the servant. Here we have a revelation of the heart of Christ. He was quick to respond to every cry of suffering. It will greatly help us in our thoughts of Christ in heaven, to remember that He is the same now, that He was while on the earth. He is still quick to hear our prayer and respond to our requests. His heart is yet tender and full of compassion toward pain. The gospel pages are not records of what Christ was but glimpses of what He is !

Another lesson here is for ourselves. It is said that Dr. Livingstone rarely ever offered a prayer, even in his early Christian life, in which he did not plead to be made like Christ in all his imitable perfection. This should be the daily prayer of every Christian. We should seek to have Christ’s great kindness of heart. The world is full of suffering and we ought to seek in all possible ways to give comfort, relief or help. We have power to scatter happiness, to relieve distress, to give cheer and hope. We may not be able to heal diseases but we can love people in Christ’s name, and give them courage and strength to go on with their troubles and be encouraged.

But the centurion shrank now in his lowliness from having Jesus enter his home. This was true humility. We cannot truly see Christ and not be humbled. The reason we are so proud and self-conceited, is because we do not see Him. If our eyes but beheld Him in the glory and splendor of His Divinity all our vain pretensions would instantly shrivel. We should look at Christ with a long, loving gaze until a sense of His Divine greatness fills our hearts.

Another thing here to be noted, is the centurion’s conception of Christ. He thought of Him as a great Commander with all the forces of the universe under Him. The soldier knows only one duty to obey; and all these forces know only to obey Christ. Christ is the Commander of the army of the universe! The stars and planets are under Him and obey Him, all winds and tempests and all the powers of nature are subject to His sway. All diseases, all events, come and go at His word.

This ought to give us great confidence in the midst of dangers of whatever kind. Diseases and pestilence are only Christ’s soldiers. They are obedient to His will and can never transcend it not to go contrary to it. They can go only where and as far as He sends them. Death is one of His soldiers, too, and can do only His command. Why then should we dread death, since it is the obedient servant of our King? So of all events and occurrences they are but the messengers of our Master and cannot harm us. It was not necessary for Jesus to go to the centurion’s house to heal his slave. He had only to speak the word and the illness would obey Him and flee away!

The centurion’s great faith wrought a great cure. “As you have believed so be it done unto you.” Blessing depends upon faith, the measure of blessing upon the measure of faith. Little faith gets little help. We have all God’s fullness from which to draw, and there can be no limit to our receiving, save the capacity of our believing. It is because we have such small faith that the answers to our prayers are so meager.

The next case of healing was wrought in the home of one of the disciples. Jesus blesses homes. It was after a Sabbath service in the synagogue. When Jesus entered the house He found the woman lying sick with a fever. We are not told of any request for healing by any of the family. The thought seems to have been the Master’s own. He saw her sick and His heart was full of compassion. The record is very beautiful. “He touched her hand and the fever left her.” What strange power has that touch! There are other fevers besides those that burn in people’s bodies. There are fevers of the mind, of the soul. There are fevers of discontent, of passion, of ambition, of lust, of jealousy, of envy! There are fevers of anxiety, of remorse, of despair. All of these, all life’s fevers, the touch of Christ has power to heal. Let Him only touch the hot hand and the fever will flee away and quietness and peace will come!

“The fever left her; and she arose, and ministered unto Him.” She could not minister, until the fever was gone. Nor can we minister while life’s fevers are burning within us. But when the fever leaves us we at once to arise and begin to serve the Master. It would add immeasurably to our power among men and to the influence of our lives if we would always get the touch of Christ upon our hands at the beginning of each day.

One says of his mother: “My mother’s habit was, every day, immediately after breakfast, to withdraw for an hour to her own room, and to spend the time in reading the Bible, in meditation, and in prayer. From that hour, as from a pure fountain, she drew the strength and the sweetness which enabled her to fulfill all her duties, and to remain unruffled by all the worries and pettiness which are so often the intolerable trial of poor homes. As I think of her life, and of all it had to bear, I see the absolute triumph of Christian grace in the lovely ideal of a Christian woman. I never saw her temper disturbed; I never heard her speak one word of anger, or of calumny, or of idle gossip. I never observed in her any sign of a single sentiment unfitting to a soul which had drunk of the river of the water of life, and which had fed upon manna in the barren wilderness. The world is the better for the passage of such souls across its surface.”

Let other weary mothers wait each morning to get the touch of Christ before they go the day’s tasks and frets. Then the fevers of life will leave them, and they will enter upon a day of quiet peace and gentle ministry.

The closing words of our passage present a most remarkable picture. “When evening came, many who were demon-possessed were brought to him, and he drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick.” It would seem that there were scores healed in one hour!

[gelidponies]

Princess Esper is the type of pony who turns heads whenever she walks in the room. Despite only being the sovereign of the Crystal Empire compared to the entirety of Equestria, she is by far the most popular princess and the sociable face of the kingdom. Renowned both for her beauty and her intelligence she has the ability to command a room with natural leadership. This isnt to discount the thing she's most famous for. Which is her incredible beauty. She highly values her appearance and the appearance of her kingdom. Her domain is the magic of inspiration, this, along with her special connection to the crystal heart allow her to access a wide variety of spells that beautify the empire. However, she doesn't just use delegation and magic to complete this task. Esper may be the spitting image of a princess with perfect ettiqutte and luxury in her every step, but she is also incredibly generous. She is beloved by even the most small and shy of her citizens because of her willingness to dirty her hooves with work. Much of her vast wealth goes to projects that will benefit her little ponies in addition to the ponies themselves. Even if it means sacrificing some of her beauty. Whether by giving so much away she cant afford her spa treatments or by cutting off her tail to help a sea serpent in need. Some criticize her vanity and say that "creative inspiration" isn’t all that important to the wellbeing of the Crystal Empire. Any pony who truly knows her can see that she doesn't just inspire creatively but inspires the crystal ponies to be kinder to their fellow equine.

A greater stain on the princess' reputation is the guard pony she took as a wife. Cosmic Crisp is much like a tree. Stoic, quiet, and hard skinned. She is known by most ponies to be much less approachable than her wife. This is because shes thrown herself into the study of earth pony magic, it doesn't simply come natural to her as it does for her younger sister Zap Apple. So much of her waking life is dedicated to warping crystalline trees and soil for the protection of the empire. Despite her lack of people skills it's as clear as day that she has a wielding of the earth almost on level with a princess, so she quickly rose the ranks of the royal guard. Her valor comes not just from a love for her family but a deep sensitivity rumbling just below the surface. Cosmic doesn't like to show it but she's deeply sentimental. She holds onto many things from the childhood of herself, Zap Apple, and their adopted diamond dog sister Wag. She often compares herself to the other creatures in her life which has developed into a deep seeded insecurity. Her and Zap have strain on their once close sisterhood because it caused her to self isolate and lash out. Her relationship with Esper and the gratitude of the crystal ponies for her valiant efforts has beun to help her heal. To help her see that she is valued and begin to reunite with her family. Similar to the roots of a tree gaining a community instead of hiding herself away from the world has not only strengthened her mental health, but strengthened her magic.

Bases by https://www.deviantart.com/sodasurfer97/art/princess-cadence-base-716506089 and https://www.deviantart.com/elementbases/art/MLP-Base-121-748593854

[slashingdisneypasta]

So I clearly missed some things due to my severe lack of activeness on this hellsite (derogatory) but I'd very much like to know more about Then He Got Rough if you feel comfortable sharing.

If not though, that's totally okay!! Either way, hope you're doing well, my friend 💜🙏🏻

!!!! Thats my Original Work!! I occasionally mention it on here, but I do need to be quite careful about what I say cuz theirs a lotta stuff in it that is meant to be a surprise XD But goddddddddddddddd I love talking about it, so thank you for asking!! ^^

Basically it is a small town murder mystery, but using Slasher Movie Tropes. Its also got a lotta platonic love and other more complicated kinds of relationships because I'm, of course, aro and I need that shit XD Here's a basic blurb I made up for someone else who asked one time ^^

Hallie (the virgin) meets Edward Brown (the killer) and they hit it off- she's exactly the kinda girl he likes; friendly, kinda reserved, and they have... err- certain things from their pasts... in common, it turns out. And to her, Edward's the perfect guy, too! He's a young English teacher at the high school and he's got this skinny Clark Kent thing about him?? Awkward, and funny. She doesn't realise he's a part of the little town's most powerful (and tight-lipped) family, the Bamford's (He was adopted into it- Edward Bamford-Brown), until she tells her best friend and roommate Maggie (the whore) about him. Maggie immediately develops a bad taste in her mouth when it comes to Edward. She goes rogue and decides to investigate, employing Hallie's family doctor, Arthur (the scholar), and his old friend/new roommate combo; anxious ex-con Rodney (the fool), who just so happens to be Edwards adoptive aunt Carla Bamford's ex husband. Doors are opened for Maggie into the world of the Bamford's through Arthur and Rodney, and Winnie Bamford (the athlete) later on, and she uncovers some bone chilling secrets about everyone in this family, and everyone a r o u n d them, too, that make her determined to save her friend before its too late.

**You might also be interested to know that, in my head, Rodney (Who is a very charismatic, but very anxious man who used to do some pretty bad things but feels terrible (he knows his behaviour had everything to do with self-loathing) is really truly trying to clean up his act these days post-divorce; rooming with his old friend Arthur and working at the grocery store as its the only job he could get) is played by a more middle-aged Robert Englund XDD (Closer to Professor Wexler in Urban Legend then Inkubus) . Arthur is played by Brad Dourif XDD (so yes- freddy kruger and chucky XD Of course.)

Some little tid-bits I can/want to share also:

The Bamford Family Line-Up:

Mrs Emily Bamford: The matriarch. A cold-hearted snake woman. She pretty much only loves Edward.

Mayor Richard Bamford: He and Em were highschool sweethearts back in the day but broke up when he left to pursue politics in a big city-- but mysteriously came back and married Emily a few months later despite everyone knowing he was doing so well in the city?? Took the Bamford name and everything. Its rumoured that Emily's parents blackmailed him *cough*. Everyone knows Emily is in charge. Richard always looks kind of like a show pony next to her, despite being actual Mayor.

Carla Bamford: Emily's adopted sister and town journalist. She's kinda lily-livered. The only thing she really stood against the family about was her marriage to Rodney (They didn't approve. He was a damn con), but even that fell apart eventually.

Rodney Hawk (Formally Bamford. They made him take their name but he's got his back, now): I already talked about him XD

Edward Bamford-Brown: THE MAIN VILLAIN. Edward is Emily and Richard's adopted son, the same age as their biological daughter (Winnie. up next) who... well, its no secret- is the favourite. Emily would let him get away with anything. She would help him get away with anything. He can do no wrong, in her eyes.

Winnie Bamford: Emily and Richard's biological daughter. She's an insane freak- they sent her away to boarding school in Georgia but she came back worse, and there are s o many rumours about her in town; Orgies and deviant sexual activity, mostly (most of it is true, too). She has a major thing for 'Uncle Rodney' and makes him very very uncomfortable. On the bright side though?? She's more then happy to fuck things up for her spiteful mother by assisting Maggie to uncover some dark secrets (: She wont make it easy, though 😅 That would be no fun.

Unnamed Bamford Family Member: I cant tell you anything about them, whoops.

And Tom Manning: Richard's best friend, and the town lawyer (Edwards lawyer). So close with Rich and Em (And Winnie and Edward) that he's practically part of the family. I have described him as 'a hot dill pickle in a sharp suit if he was a harvard law graduate'. He's slimy, charismatic and seemingly perfect.

Here are the main characters Looks, if you're interested 😅

(Also another little thing that is really just a convoluted blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of inside joke- Maggie, who has a huge thing for Arthur and constantly describes his eyes as 'brad dourif-blue', is a major Childs Play fan.

... and hallie loves a nightmare on elm street *cough*. she doesnt really interact with rodney, but during the few times they do, they totally have Something. and when she describes her perfect guy?? its the opposite to edward. its rodney. anyway- )

Anyway, thank you for asking! And reading, if you made it this far XDD Sorry for the word-vomit!! I just really really love this story and I really hope one day I can finish it ^^ <3<3<3<3<3<3

I hope you are doing well too- better then before at least ^^ I hope the time away from Tumblr is doing you well! You're right, it can be a very harmful atmosphere and I'm so proud of you for knowing when you need to take a step back!! 💛💛💛💛💛

[journey-through-stories]

"Can’t Get Enough Horse Stuff": A National Geographic Kids Book That Inspires Love for Horses

I absolutely love it when professionals take on creating books for children. And this time, we have an incredible treasure in our hands — "Can’t Get Enough Horse Stuff" by National Geographic Kids. This isn’t just a collection of fun facts; it’s an immersive journey into the fascinating world of horses, filled with engaging games, hilarious jokes, and, of course, stunning photography.

Kristina Sauer, deputy editor at National Geographic Kids, describes it best: "This is the perfect book for kids aged 7 to 10," she says. "It’s packed with everything from quizzes and jokes to inspiring stories from experts, including horse therapists, filmmakers, and trainers. It’s the ideal introduction to horses for young readers who already love these animals or are just starting to explore the joys of reading."

Exploring the Diversity of the Horse World

From mighty draft horses to elegant Arabians, this book showcases the incredible variety of horse breeds. Kristina herself, despite growing up around horses, admits she learned so much while working on this project: "Did you know that a Belgian draft horse weighs about as much as a baby humpback whale? That completely blew my mind! And those majestic Friesian horses with their flowing manes? They’re practically the royalty of movie sets."

The book also delves into Arabians, whose always-upturned tails result from their unique skeletal structure. And who could forget miniature horses? Standing less than 38 inches tall, these tiny but mighty creatures are absolute crowd favorites.

Why Do Horses Captivate Us?

"Horses are incredibly expressive and communicative animals," Kristina shares. Many people feel a deep connection with them. She highlights equine therapy, where horses help people regain balance and coordination by mimicking human walking patterns. "Did you know horses have 17 different facial expressions? That’s almost as many as humans! They may not speak our language, but their eyes say it all."

With 4,000 years of companionship between humans and horses, it’s no wonder we share such a strong bond.

Learning the Language of Horses

The book teaches kids how to interpret horse body language. Relaxed ears and half-closed eyes? That’s a calm horse. Ears pinned back with flaring nostrils? Better watch out — they’re not happy. Parents have noted that after reading this book, their kids became more attuned to animal behavior, improving their interactions with both horses and pets.

Wild Horses: Freedom and Responsibility

The book also touches on the lives of wild horses still roaming in the U.S. Readers will learn about filmmakers dedicated to their preservation and the challenges these animals face. It’s a powerful way to introduce kids to the concept of environmental stewardship and humanity’s responsibility toward nature.

Why Horses Eat So Much

The saying “eats like a horse” isn’t just a phrase — it’s the truth! Horses spend most of their day munching on grass and grains to sustain their large bodies. Kids will be amazed to learn that horses only sleep for 1-3 hours a day, dedicating most of their time to eating and moving.

Quizzes, Puzzles, and Pony Jokes

As with most National Geographic books, "Can’t Get Enough Horse Stuff" is packed with vibrant visuals. But it’s the interactive sections — quizzes, puzzles, and pony puns — that make it truly shine. For example: "Who are the most famous horse thieves? Bonnie and Clydesdale!"

The book even includes personality tests, like “Which horse breed matches your character?” or “What traits do you share with a horse?” It’s a fun way for kids to explore their interests while imagining future careers as trainers, veterinarians, or equine therapists.

Unbelievable Discoveries: A Horse’s Hoof is Just a Giant Fingernail!

Even seasoned horse lovers will find surprises here. Kristina shares one of her favorite revelations from the book: "Did you know that a horse’s hoof isn’t its foot but just a giant toenail? And yes, it can be trimmed or even painted with safe polish!"

Mythical Horses: Let Your Imagination Gallop

A section on mythical horses will delight young fantasy fans. From Poseidon’s sea horses with fish-like tails to the ever-enchanting unicorns, this part of the book fuels creativity and sparks dreams.

The Healing Beauty of Horses

Horses’ graceful silhouettes, expressive eyes, and powerful movements captivate the heart. Many psychologists emphasize the therapeutic benefits of being around horses, from reducing stress to teaching responsibility and empathy. Watching, caring for, or simply spending time with these majestic animals offers children a profound connection to nature.

Conclusion: A Gateway to the World of Horses

"Can’t Get Enough Horse Stuff" is a perfect gift for young horse enthusiasts. Combining fascinating facts, breathtaking illustrations, and engaging activities, this book inspires kids to explore the world of horses and develop a love for nature.

If there’s a child in your life who adores horses, don’t miss the chance to share this remarkable book with them. It’s more than just reading — it’s a gateway to a world of grace, wisdom, and joy.

[starsweepers]

it isn't uncommon for people to equate the g5 ponies to their "counterparts" in g4, but i have to say i don't agree with the fandom's general view that hitch is apple jack's counterpart and misty is flutter's. not that i fully disagree - i can see entirely where the viewpoint comes from, but in my opinion it makes more sense to flip flop them. misty is apple jack's counterpart and hitch is flutter's.

in the way most people view it, i imagine it pertains more to their personalities and that the elements they represent still fit: hitch is a sheriff so honesty is obviously critical to uphold in order to find justice, and then misty's kindness was what made it too hard for her to truly be opaline's perfect student.

however here's my two cents ( and this is entirely a matter of opinion and ultimately not important but i have this on the brain and it kind of encompasses some thoughts on misty i have ).

hitch being kindness/the counterpart to flutter is not only represented in his affinity with animals, but in the overall core of his character. in the movie, it isn't honesty he seeks or even cares about. he wants to just protect ponies and protect sunny, thinking she's taking herself on essentially a suicide mission. it's his kindness to sunny that keeps him linked to her. his loyalty, really, but zipp is the better role for that, a spiel i'm not going to go into here. hitch's compassion he displays for others is what helps him relent to sunny's cause, even when he still quite clearly doesn't really believe her on the unity crystals and magic. however, he does believe in being good and doing what's right, in making sure everyone is being treated fairly. it's kindness and patience that allows him to be a good sheriff, to take care of sparky, and to be a loyal friend. honesty imo just isn't really his click overall.

as for misty, had years of lies and deceit and being tormented, living in an honest world is something vital to her. and the story of the one who was lying and being a "traitor" to the group representing honesty is a good spin in my opinion. because really she was seeking honesty, she was trying to pursue what she thought was the truth. and it was by learning the actual truth that her tune started to change, and she realized what she wanted to stand for, who she wanted to be, and what friendship really was. honesty is so integral to where her mindset now is, and while she still "lies" on occasion with her nervous flubs, i think ultimately she would always come back to the truth and do what she could to make it known and understood. she doesn't like when the others use underlying tactics to accomplish things and prefers more straightforward approaches, or even being upfront. in one of the comics, if i'm recalling correctly, she even tries to confront an "enemy" head on while her friends craft a trick to catch the foe, believing that being honest and forward would get the result needed instead. she very much becomes a voice for "don't lie" amongst the group.

but yeah anyways, this really isn't an important concept in the grand scheme of things lmao. but it was on my brain and so i wanted to ramble about it. i'm not even fully positive what the creators imagined the counterparts to be, just going off all the fanart things. so yeah, in my take, if the elements were to be the same between generations ( but i think new elements also work for the group ), i think misty reflects honesty more than kindness.

[freenewsreport]

Vogue Williams: The Fashion Icon and TV Star Who’s Taking Over

Vogue Williams—what a name, right? It oozes sophistication and style! But who exactly is she, and how did she become the figurehead of elegance in both the fashion and TV worlds? Let’s take a closer look at the life of this Irish star who has truly made her mark.

Vogue Williams is much more than just a pretty face; she’s a force to be reckoned with! Born in Dublin in 1985, Vogue has risen through the ranks, from modeling gigs to becoming a beloved TV personality. From starring in a hit reality show to hosting top-tier programs, her journey is nothing short of extraordinary.

Let’s unravel the fascinating story of Vogue Williams and how she seamlessly combines her passions for fashion, entertainment, and family life.

Vogue Williams: The Early Years

Born and raised in the lively city of Dublin, Vogue always had a keen eye for style. She knew how to command attention and captivate those around her. Growing up, Vogue was never shy about standing out, which would eventually catapult her into the spotlight. But hey, it wasn’t just her looks that got her there—it was her drive and ambition!

Fame on “Fade Street”

Who could forget “Fade Street”? This reality show was Vogue’s big break! Set in Dublin, the show focused on the lives of young Irish socialites navigating friendships, careers, and relationships. Vogue’s magnetic personality shone through, making her a household name across Ireland.

In this reality world, Vogue didn’t just play a part—she owned it! Her charm, wit, and striking beauty had viewers hooked. It was only a matter of time before bigger opportunities came knocking.

From Modeling to TV Stardom

After the success of “Fade Street”, Vogue took her career to new heights. Modeling was her first love, and she had already gained recognition for her stunning looks and fashion sense. But she didn’t stop there! Vogue moved effortlessly into television presenting, proving that she wasn’t just a one-trick pony.

Hosting “Getaways”

In 2017, Vogue took on a new challenge—hosting the popular travel show “Getaways”. This was where she got to shine even brighter, showcasing her personality in a different light. Viewers loved her infectious enthusiasm as she explored exciting locations, making them feel like they were right there with her!

Dancing with the Stars Ireland

Ever seen Vogue twirl? Well, in 2018, she joined “Dancing with the Stars Ireland”, and boy, did she bring the heat! Her grace and athleticism wowed both the judges and the audience. Who knew she had such killer moves up her sleeve? Vogue’s appearance on the show cemented her status as one of Ireland’s most beloved TV personalities.

A Glimpse into Vogue’s Personal Life

While her professional life was thriving, Vogue’s personal life was equally fulfilling. She married former Westlife singer Brian McFadden in 2012, but the pair later split. Fast forward to 2018, and Vogue found love again with reality TV star Spencer Matthews. Together, they make a glamorous couple, but more importantly, they’re parents to three adorable children.

Family First

Despite her busy career, Vogue always finds time for her family. Her Instagram feed is flooded with heartwarming snapshots of her children, showcasing her as a doting mom. It’s clear that Vogue strikes the perfect balance between her professional endeavors and her role as a loving mother.

Fashion and Fitness

Vogue is a woman of many talents, but one of her greatest passions is fitness. She’s often seen working out and sharing her fitness routines with her followers. Her commitment to staying healthy is inspiring, and she’s even written a fitness book to help others on their health journeys.

On the fashion front, Vogue continues to slay. Whether she’s walking the red carpet or out for a casual stroll, her style is impeccable. Vogue has collaborated with numerous fashion brands, and she’s always up to date on the latest trends. She’s the type of person who can make any outfit look effortlessly chic.

Vogue Williams: The Entrepreneur

Did I mention that Vogue is also an entrepreneur? Oh yes! She’s launched her own tanning line, Bare by Vogue, which has become a hit. As a lover of all things beauty, it’s no surprise that Vogue’s product line is flourishing.

Bare by Vogue

Her tanning line features an array of self-tanning products that promise a sun-kissed glow without harmful UV exposure. Vogue has taken her brand to the next level, tapping into the beauty industry with style and substance.

What’s Next for Vogue?

So, what’s next for this multifaceted star? It seems like Vogue is always expanding her horizons. Whether it’s new TV projects, collaborations with fashion brands, or even more family adventures, there’s no stopping her. Vogue Williams is a name that will continue to dominate both Irish and international media for years to come.

Conclusion

Vogue Williams’ rise to fame isn’t just about her good looks—it’s about her incredible work ethic, versatility, and magnetic personality. From her early days on “Fade Street” to becoming a TV host, a fitness enthusiast, and an entrepreneur, Vogue has done it all. She’s an inspiration to many, not only for her achievements but also for how she manages to juggle her career with her role as a mom.

The future looks bright for Vogue, and we can’t wait to see what she does next!

[ronaldanthony4]

Once again, I found myself immersed in the world of digital art, breathing life into a beloved character. The subject of this new artwork is Sara Crewe, the heroine of "A Little Princess," a children’s novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. But my inspiration for this piece comes from a particular adaptation that holds a special place in my heart—the 1985 anime "Princess Sarah", which is not only nostalgic for me but also for many others in my country, the Philippines. It’s such a well-known series here that a Filipino-casted live-action remake was made, further deepening its influence on our culture.

This piece shows Sara in her birthday gown, a look that has always stood out to me from both the novel and the anime. I wanted to capture her in that moment of elegance and youth when life still seemed so filled with possibilities before her world crumbled around her. The gown itself is a soft, pale pink, a colour that exudes warmth, innocence, and subtle sophistication—perfect for a young girl of privilege who hasn’t yet faced the challenges to come. The dress flows gracefully, its soft ruffles cascading in layers that look delicate yet regal.

Her gloves are a pristine white, extending just past her wrists in a style that adds a touch of refinement. I imagined how they would feel—smooth, soft, and cool to the touch, the kind of gloves a young lady would wear to a formal event like her own birthday party. On her head, she wears a simple pearl hairband. The pearls reflect the same sophistication as the rest of her ensemble, but they are not overdone. Sara has always been a character of quiet grace, and I wanted her appearance to reflect that.

When you look into her eyes—large, bright green eyes full of depth—you see more than just a pretty young girl. You see kindness, compassion, and an enduring optimism. That’s one of the most striking things about Sara Crewe. Despite all the hardships she faces throughout her story, she never loses her innate goodness. In many ways, this artwork is my tribute to those qualities in her that inspire people, even decades after the book was first written and after countless adaptations of the story have been made.

I didn’t want to create just any fan art; I wanted to embody who Sara Crewe is at her core. She’s kind, caring, and compassionate. Even when she is treated poorly, she remains generous and polite to everyone around her. She doesn't boast about her wealth, nor does she look down on anyone. Her humility is what makes her so endearing. Her intelligence also plays a significant role in her character. She reads extensively and speaks several languages, including French and Hindi. I kept this intellectual aspect in mind as I depicted her thoughtful, serene expression.

But it’s her imagination that truly sets Sara apart. Throughout the story, Sara makes up fairy tales to entertain her classmates at Miss Minchin's school. I could just imagine how her creative spirit would radiate through her posture and the soft smile on her lips. In this artwork, her smile is not broad; it’s delicate and gentle, the kind of smile that hints at stories hidden in her mind, stories she’s too humble to share without being asked. Her optimism is perhaps her most defining trait. No matter what happens to her, she never loses hope. Even in the darkest of times, Sara believes in the goodness of the world, and I tried to convey this unwavering positivity in her facial features and soft, pastel surroundings.

Of course, creating fan art like this requires a deep understanding of the character’s background. Born in India to Captain Ralph Crewe and his wife, Sara was showered with love and attention from her father, especially after her mother’s passing. Captain Crewe spared no expense when he sent his beloved daughter to Miss Minchin's seminary in London. The novel makes it clear how lavish Sara’s life was at the time—her room, extravagant furniture, a wardrobe full of beautiful dresses, a servant, a parrot, and even a pony.

That’s one of the most fascinating aspects of her character. Miss Minchin, the strict headmistress of the school, sees Sara’s wealth and assumes she’s a spoiled, selfish child. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sara’s kindness and grace win over her classmates, and even those who are initially envious or indifferent towards her can’t help but be drawn in by her sincerity. Through this fan art, I wanted to show the world what Miss Minchin couldn’t see—Sara’s inner strength and beauty.

But, as those who are familiar with the story know, Sara’s life takes a devastating turn on her birthday. She receives the news that her father has passed away, and with him, her entire fortune is lost. In a matter of moments, Sara goes from being the wealthiest girl at Miss Minchin’s school to having nothing. Miss Minchin, showing her true nature, forces Sara to become a servant, banishing her to a cold, desolate attic room shared with Becky, another servant. The once-grand life Sara had known disappears in an instant. She is made to cook, clean, and endure daily cruelty from not only Miss Minchin but also other students like Lavinia, who are all too eager to see Sara suffer.

Despite all this, Sara never loses her grace. Even in rags, she continues to imagine herself as a princess at heart, a princess not because of wealth or status but because of how she treats others. It’s this enduring sense of dignity that I wanted to capture in my artwork. Sara in my fan art still wears the beautiful birthday gown, but her posture and expression convey a deep inner strength—a strength that will carry her through the dark times ahead. I wanted to capture the essence of Sara's resilience and grace.

One of the most poignant aspects of Sara’s story is how she refuses to let the cruelty of others change her. Even when she’s at her lowest point, when she’s cold, hungry, and exhausted from endless chores, she finds ways to be kind and compassionate. She shares her food with Becky when they’re both starving. She uses her vivid imagination to transport herself and others away from their miserable surroundings, telling stories that bring hope and light into the darkest corners of their lives.

For me, that’s what makes Sara such a powerful character. She doesn’t need material wealth to be a princess. Her royalty comes from her heart. That’s why I chose to depict her in this elegant gown, as a reminder that no matter what happens to her externally, she remains a princess internally. Eventually, Sara’s fortunes change once again. She is discovered by Mr. Tom Carrisford, her father’s friend who has been searching for her ever since her father’s death. He restores Sara to her former wealth and adopts her, giving her the happy ending she so richly deserves. But even when she regains her status as a princess, Sara remains humble, kind, and generous.

This artwork is my way of paying homage to that resilience and inner beauty. It’s not just a portrait of a girl in a pretty dress. It’s a reflection of who Sara Crewe is at her core—a girl who faces unimaginable hardship with grace and dignity, a girl who never loses hope, and a girl who remains a princess, not because of her wealth, but because of her character. She remains a princess because she believes in the power of kindness and love to overcome any obstacle and she knows that true beauty comes from within.

In conclusion, creating this fan art was more than just an artistic endeavour for me. It was a way to reconnect with a character who has long inspired me and countless others. Sara Crewe’s story is one of hope, kindness, and the enduring power of imagination. Through this piece, I wanted to capture not just her physical appearance but also the essence of who she is—a true princess, in every sense of the word. In doing so, I hope to convey the magic that Sara Crewe's character exudes on the page of the book.