I'm many things, including a bi-romantic asexual nonbinary Jewish writer with depression, PTSD, anxiety, and ADHD. My pronouns are they/them. I'm over 30yo, and though I'm ace, will occasionally write/post things that are NSFW... and even when I don't, I don't especially want minors following me. If you are under 18 and follow me anyway, I'm going to block you- it isn't personal. I'm a nerd and Fandom Old, and will curate my online experience.
Can you please write some hcs for him being protective over reader when other kens try to talk to reader? Or Ken just being clingy, thank you!!
protective/clingy ken hcs !!
a/n: guys i lowkey didn’t expect to be getting so many ken requests but i’m kinda loving it LMAO 😭😭 i’m so so glad you like how i write him!!! i literally try to think of the most ridiculous thing possible and go hmmm yup yes that seems like ken
⟣ you often hang out at the beach, either relaxing in the shade of a palm tree or conversing with the other barbies. it’s become a habit of Ken’s to admire you from afar as he dutifully does his job, scouring the beach for any threats to your safety and happiness
⟣ but when Rival Ken walks up to you and strikes up a conversation, suddenly that's all that Ken can focus on— and then if you happen to laugh at something Rival Ken said?! oh he's seething. he gets so mad that he’ll reach for the nearest surfboard to break it, and then when it doesn’t break (it was a particularly durable surfboard, okay?), he resorts to launching the poor thing into the water
⟣ after throwing the board, flexing his biceps, stomping around, and giving himself a pep talk to make himself feel better, he smoothly sauntered up to the two of you and sized up Rival Ken.
⟣ “hey Ken, i noticed you were talking to my girlfriend. as her boyfriend, i can tell my girlfriend isn’t interested in speaking with you— and we have boyfriend girlfriend activities to attend to, since we’re boyfriend girlfriend and all, so…”
⟣ you lost track of how many times he wove in the term “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” into his little speech, so you eventually had to drag him away from the argument before it escalated into a spontaneous beach off
⟣ his mopey mood instantly evaporated when you led him away and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
⟣ like, you visibly saw him perk up with a little extra pep in his step, and he just turned to you with a smitten smile as you guys walked off, hand in hand
⟣ when he’s missing you, Ken will daydream and absentmindedly draw in the sand while he’s on the beach— call him Da Vinci the way he accidentally created a Mona Lisa looking masterpiece of you out of lines in the sand (alternatively, this may happen occasionally with sand castles as well. he’ll be thinking of you, and then suddenly there’s a life size sand sculpture of you striking a model pose)
⟣ you guys are almost always interlocking hands while you’re out together, but when any other ken approaches, Ken instinctively moves to wrap his arm around you instead to draw you closer
⟣ sometimes he gives you his gargantuan faux fur coat as another indicator that the other kens need to keep their hands off— it often swallows you whole and drowns you with all the fabric, but at least it’s super plush and voluminous
⟣ early on in your relationship, he gave you a giant “K” necklace so that the other kens knew you were his. (how that works i have no idea, since all of their names start with K… somehow they all unanimously understood who it was referring to though)
⟣ when you guys started cuddling, Ken thought he would always prefer to be the big spoon since it’s the more “manly” role. he very quickly discovered how false that was— he loves being held by you and snuggling into your touch
⟣ also, Ken always manages to find a way to touch you in some way. you’re tanning in the sun? he’s got his head resting against your stomach or legs. you’re sitting on a bench? he’s right there next to you, knee bumping against yours. you’re leaving for a girls night out? he teleports to the floor, clutching your ankle and pleading you not to leave with a kicked puppy expression.
⟣ one time, while you were making breakfast for the two of you, you suddenly felt a huge weight clambering on top of you— it was Ken. climbing you. like an oversized koala.
⟣ you sighed, not even surprised as you accepted your fate, inevitably losing your balance and toppling to the floor with him still very much attached to you
⟣ “seriously?”
⟣ “...i wanted to be closer to you.”
⟣ your new name should be the sun, because Ken’s life revolves around you— and he wouldn’t want it any other way. you’re his rainbow after the storm. his pot of gold. his divine girl. it wasn’t his lips you kissed, but his soul!! your milkshake brings this boy to the yard! (had to reference this hehe)
'Ken wants to cuddle, but it's the middle of a heatwave. He negotiates his way into your arms.'
The ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, doing almost nothing against the thick, humid heat that pressed down on the bedroom like a weighted blanket from hell. The windows were swung open, but the night air outside was just as oppressive. You lay on top of the sheets in a tank top and shorts, already glistening with sweat. Ken, of course, was undeterred. You'd been rejecting his hugs all day because of the heat, and he had had just about enough.
He scooted closer on the mattress (wearing just his heart-patterned boxers), his blond hair slightly damp at the temples: when someone from Barbieland starts sweating, that's how you know it's hot. Still, his big, hopeful eyes locked onto you with puppy-like longing.
“Babe...?” he asked softly. You knew immediately from his tone what he was about to ask. “Can we do even a little cuddling? I can be the big spoon, if you want? I’ve been practicing my form— look!” He turned onto his side and stiffly demonstrated his new 'technique', smiling up at you proudly as he did so.
You turned your head toward him, giggling despite the discomfort.
“Ken, you know I want to, but it’s just so hot. If we cuddle I’m going to actually dissolve into a puddle, and you’ll have to explain to everyone why you're dating a pile of Y/N soup, and it'll be a whole thing." You huffed and wiped some hair from your damp brow, exhausted even by talking.
Ken’s face fell, earnest tragedy flashing across his features once again. He flipped onto his back with a theatrical sigh, one arm dramatically draped over his forehead.
“But we always cuddle at bedtime,” he whined, staring at the ceiling with wide sad eyes. “I need the closeness, the connection, the… the 'Ken and Y/N forever' energy to fall asleep!” You patted his arm sympathetically, then returned to your spread eagle position, trying desperately to let the lukewarm air hit as much as your body as possible.
He was quiet for a beat; you could almost hear the pink, plastic cogs turning in his head.
“Okay, how about this,” he said, rolling onto his side enthusiastically, propping his head on his hand. “What if we do cold spooning? I’ll go take a cold shower, and become a human ice pack. You won’t even notice the heat!” It was beyond endearing that he'd be willing to do that for you, but still: the idea of flesh-on-flesh right now sent a trickle of sweat down your spine.
"I dunno Ken..." you began, "still sounds a bit suffocating."
He furrowed his brows, then doubled down.
"We could put one of those cooling gel packs that you got for my sprained ankle between us? Like a little, cold chaperone. A chilly third wheel, if you will!” He beamed at you. You shook your head.
Ken's suggestions became increasingly ridiculous, ending with a final suggestion of his climbing into the fridge every ten minutes of spooning. When you gently but firmly said no to all cooling contraptions (because even that sounded sticky and awful right now), Ken nodded solemnly and sighed, like a man accepting his tragic fate.
He rose from the circular bed, and disappeared into the bathroom for a minute. When he returned, his hands were carefully carrying two damp washcloths he’d run under cold water. He placed one across your forehead with great gentleness, and laid the other across his own chest like a tiny blanket. Droplets of cold water ran down his hard flank, and you both sighed in relief.
“See? I’m adapting,” he announced proudly. “I’m being very independent. Look at me, not cuddling: I’m basically a zen master.”
He lasted about four minutes before he started scooting his foot over until just his ankle brushed yours— the tiniest possible point of contact. You shot him a look that said 'I see what you're doing'. He smiled innocently at you. You laughed softly and let him keep the ankle contact.
Eventually, he settled on his back, but reached out so his pinkie finger could hook with yours on the mattress between you.
“This is good,” he said quietly, though his voice was still a little wistful. “I just like knowing you’re here. Even if we’re both turning into puddles… I’m your puddle, and you’re mine.” After a moment, he added with a small, cheeky grin, "but when it cools down, I’m getting full cuddle tax. With interest".
"Of course," you giggled, giving his pinkie a squeeze. He curled contentedly into the bed, blankets thrown aside.
You fell asleep with pinkies linked, the damp washcloth cooling you down, a content little smile on your faces despite the heat.
Characters (in order): Ryland Grace, Lars Lindstrom, Henry Letham, Ken, Colt Seavers, Driver
Summary: They find out you still have—and sleep with—a stuffed animal or plushie. How do they react and treat it?
WARNINGS: None! Tooth-rotting fluff again ^^
Word Count: 607
Ryland Grace:
* Confesses that he still has a red fox plushie that he got as a kid at his apartment (he doesn’t always sleep with it, but it’s always there)
* Whenever he stays the night at your place afterward—because his apartment is a good bit smaller than yours—he brings his fox plushie
* Has accidentally left the fox at your apartment before and almost freaked out a little bit—until you texted him a picture of his fox and your stuffed animal together saying that they’ll keep each other company while you’re both at work
Lars Lindstrom:
* Knowing that you have something that you hold onto while you sleep is incredibly comforting to him
* Because he sleeps holding his baby blanket, and knowing how much you cherish your plushie just like how he cherishes his blanket means the world to him
* Treats it with the most respect and only ever with the gentlest of touches
* One time you came to him upset because a stitch had broken and your plushie was “hurt”, and he very carefully “performed surgery” on it (making sure all the stuffing is back inside and then stitching the hole closed) and you had to try not to practically tackle him in a hug from how much you appreciated him helping
Henry Letham:
* Doesn’t mind, treats it with respect
* On very rare occasions he has drawn it and made it tell a stupid joke (usually only if he knows you’ve been having a really tough time because it makes you smile)
* If you leave him at your apartment to go run a quick errand, he’ll hold it while drawing
* If you ask him about it when you return, he’ll say that it was “so it wouldn’t get lonely” but you know it’s because he missed you
Ken:
* Honestly gets a little bit jealous
* He’s right there!
* But then you tell him that you love it so much because it makes you think of him, and suddenly he doesn’t mind it so much
* Is even more okay with it when you get him a horse plushie of his own
* Loves when you dress up both of your stuffed animals in “matching outfits” (giving them matching ribbons/scarves/etc.), it reminds him of how the two of you try to match outfits every once in a while
Colt Seavers:
* Pokes fun at it lightheartedly at first
* But immediately backtracks when he sees that it hurt your feelings a little bit
* He thinks it’s really sweet and tells you so
* If you work with him on movies you’ll sneak it onto his trailer
* One day you walked into his trailer with coffee for him and found him napping, your stuffed animal held securely in his arms
* You managed to get a picture of it, and when he found it as your phone wallpaper, he pouted about it until you changed it to something that “didn’t lose him any tough guy points” (as if he truly has many to begin with, but you don’t tell him that)
Driver:
* Doesn’t actively comment on it, but thinks it’s sweet
* If it ever falls off the bed, he’ll carefully put it back where it was (either sitting on the bed or into your sleeping arms)
* If you decide to bring it on a drive once (“so it can see the world, too”, as you explained it with a smile) he’ll think it’s precious
* If you don’t think to bring your plushie with you the next time, he’ll ask about whether or not it’ll get lonely while the two of you are gone
* Sometimes you’ll end up bringing it again, and other times you’ll chuckle and tell him that it wants some time alone
More cuteness while I keep writing that Driver fic because it seems headcanon posts do really well ^^
Hey, unpopular opinion, apparently. But people don’t just “have pain for no reason” doctors say this all the time (especially to women and chronically ill people) and the truth is, Thats literally not possible. Even if your pains are psychosomatic (a word I hesitate to even use because of the way its used so often) there is a reason you are having those pains whether its mental illness, abuse, etc. If your doctor consistently tells you that “well some people just have pain for no reason” get a new doctor. That’s a doctor who is not going to give a shit what your actual symptoms or experiences are.
I just wanna add to clarify the psychosomatic thing.
That word DOES NOT MEAN you’re making it up. It doesn’t mean you’re imagining the symptom. What it means is that the symptom ISN’T DIRECTLY CAUSED BY ANY OF THE THINGS THAT WOULD NORMALLY CAUSE IT.
I fought to get a PCOS diagnosis for 2 and a half years. For the ENTIRE time I was fighting, I was dealing with 3 cysts that were not going away by themselves and eventually required surgery to remove. At one point close to the end of the battle, I suddenly went blind. I was visiting my parents and was standing on the veranda looking out over the tree we had planted in memory of my dog and suddenly I got one of the shooting pains that I was quite frankly used to at that point and my vision started to go dark. It was like the sun was setting while being completely hidden behind storm clouds but it was 2pm in the middle of Summer on a clear day. Within about 30 seconds I couldn’t see ANYTHING. I was 27 years old and I was screaming for my mother.
My mum raced me to her doctor (he was a 15 minute drive away as opposed to 45 minutes to the nearest hospital) and he quickly worked out that there was nothing wrong with my eyes and what had happened was totally unrelated to them. Then he said it was psychosomatic and I freaked out, yelling that I was NOT making this up and I definitely wasn’t imagining it. Very quickly he calmed me down and said he believed me and I had misunderstood. He explained that whatever was going on with my abdominal pains (he suggested PCOS which I hadn’t even heard of at that point) had been ignored for so long that my body was starting to do things other than the normal pain response to try to draw my attention to the problem. My sight going was my body basically jumping around in front of me going “HEY ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME HELLLOOOOOOO??????”
He gave me some prescription strength painkillers and my sight started to come back as soon as they started to kick in. About 45 minutes after it started I could see well enough to walk around without help and within a day and a half I was back to normal. On top of that I finally had a scan booked to figure out what the hell was causing all the pain.
Psychosomatic symptoms are NOT imagined or fabricated or happening for “no reason”. Experiencing them DOES NOT make you a liar. It makes you someone who has been battling with something serious for so long that your own body has started to get impatient with you.
Psychosomatic symptoms are literally your body flipping random alarm switches just to get any alarm blaring because you’ve been ignoring the regular ones
On April 4, 1841, William Henry Harrison, our 9th POTUS, became shortest serving President in US history by dying in office from pneumonia wildly believed to be have been caused by his decision to give a two hour inaugural address in the pouring rain without a coat or hat. Just a fun fact unrelated to this tweet.
One of the things I love about Steve Rogers is that he goes against the archetype of good/optimistic characters only being – and deriving their goodness/optimism from being – innocent and naïve.
Steve isn’t naïve. Steve grew up in hardship. In the comics, he was abused and watched his mother be beaten by his father. In the movies, he had no father, but was violently bullied and dirt poor. Steve grew up in the school of hard knocks, in the middle of the Depression; any naïveté about how cruel the world could be got beaten out of him as a child.
And then, Steve signed up to go to war. He fought on the front lines of WWII, and witnessed untold violence. Some comics and cartoons show him helping to free concentration camps. And he fought – Steve never had the luxury, as Cap, of having a “no killing” rule like Superman. He’s never relished taking lives, but he’s done it when necessary. Steve is no unsullied innocent.
From all this hardship, all this violence, Steve could easily be a character who has a grim, cynical outlook on the world. He’s seen and experienced the absolute worst of humanity; he’s borne witness to genocide, after all, and horrors of war. And usually, the characters who have endured brutality are the ones who are the bitter anti-heroes, or dark and angsty heroes – the Batmans and Daredevils, the Wolverines and Punishers. Meanwhile the hopeful, optimistic heroes are often the ones who have had warm and loving homes, and who haven’t been broken yet by the world.
But Steve, despite everything, stays hopeful. Steve believes in the best of humanity, in spite of having seen it at its worst. Steve believes in the importance of Good, because he has looked deep into the heart of Evil.
Steve has suffered all his life, but he refuses to let the world break him.
That refusal, that strength of outlook and principle, and that subversion of archetype with a rejection of the increasingly popular grimdark hero narrative, are all reasons I love Captain America, and find Steve Rogers a truly interesting and inspiring hero.
