Barbie Princess And The Popstar の小説・ストーリー

Her boobs were heaving with every deep breath she took. "That's all I can do, Princess. We can't do this anymore. We can't mix our two very different lives"

It was the dream of a cartoon movie I watched. ----/--- The movie begins with Barbie and Teresa writing a song together on their guitars when Barbie’s sister Stacie storms in, angry with her friend Courtney. Barbie decides to tell Stacie the story of two friends named Liana and Alexa, who also get angry at each other. Although the two girls don’t have much food and clothes, they have each other, love music, and depend on planting flowers to upkeep their living. They live in a cottage with a beautiful garden in the front yard. One day, they find a pair of heart-shaped stones in the river near their house, not realizing they are the mythical Diamond Castle trinkets. Suddenly, a windy rainstorm

The walls were painted in soft pink and lavender, with beautiful hand-painted murals that looked like scenes from fairy tales. But what really made Lucia gasp was the life-sized Barbie mural that covered one entire wall. It wasn't just any Barbie, it was from her favorite movie, "Barbie and the Island Princess," complete with tropical flowers and beautiful island scenery. "Oh my goodness!" Lucia squealed, running to touch the wall. "It's Barbie! It's really her!" "Do you like it, baby girl?" Clarisse asked, though the answer was obvious from Lucia's face. "I love it so much Mummy!" Lucia said dramatically, pressing her hands to her heart in a way that made both her parents laugh.

I compliment her taking it all in again “Yes, we’re going to watch Barbie today, and tomorrow we will watch Little Mermaid; we’ll watch it by the pool. Pat has this really nice concept, you’ll see.” "Okay, princess, I'm looking forward to it already.” For now, though, I am singing "I am a Barbie girl in a Barbie world," because she seems so excited already. I can not wait.

In a grand medieval castle, Princess Poppy lounged on her plush, velvet throne, her petite frame draped in an extravagant gown of shimmering silk. At just eighteen years of age, the princess was already renowned for her insatiable appetites – not just for the finest delicacies and vintage wines, but for the pleasures of the flesh as well.

Charlie prepared a brand new girlish sport car worth billions of dollars. A lot of people weren't invited, just Ria's classmates, some of their teachers and few other celebrities. The whole place was beautifully decorated. Loud music was playing. Ria in her new room was being dressed up by her stylist. After clothing her with her pink Barbie dress, a crown was worn on her tiny head to make her a perfect princess. Her heels weren't left out, even her princess bag. After all the preparing, it was time for the occasion to fully begin.

I asked politely She nodded, her attention still fixated on her dolls "Is that Barbie doll" "Yes" she whispered, her voice barely audible "I think she's pretty, I love her dress, what is she supposed to be" I carefully asked "A popstar" her eyes now fixated on me as she smiles "That's not a Barbie doll, it's a Bratz doll, she is so clueless" Tina chipped in "No, it's a Barbie doll, Mama and Grandma said so" Tiara retaliated back

All hers; my princess. "God, you are a real life princess. I feel like I am meeting with the pink and purple lover girl you always watch on TV in real life—" With a loud chuckle and red, adorable cheeks, she informed me, "—Barbie, daddy! Her name's Barbie!" With a large smile of my own, I continued, "Well, I feel like I am meeting with Barbie right now. It's not even the outfit, my princess, it's you… There is no other star that shines brighter than you, ever. You are the most beautiful girl in the world, always remember that."

“Sure, she’s a princess but she’s not even your type! I mean, she’s thin. And mouthy. And tiny. I bet she can’t even throw a decent punch.” “Who is this bitch?” Nia gasped. “Hey, I’ve been told I could have been a hand model!” Belle retorted. “And paw model!” Nia interjected. “You’re not his type!” “Why not? Because I can read and write? Oh, and don’t forget my incredible personality.” “Because you’re a filthy mutt.” Sierra growled.

I asked, “I mean, I’m a princess now. Should I try to dress the part?” She snorts at the idea, “The day you trade in your chains and platform knee highs for heels and a princess dress is the day humanity ends. You are you. If you aren’t what they consider a princess, redefine it. If they don’t like it, fuck ‘em.” Her blunt analysis made me happy. She’s right.