Chapter Text
Scrolling through Twitter, the second the sun burned past her eyelids had become a daily ritual ever since Raquelle downloaded the app. Today was no different. With a dramatic groan, she slapped around her nightstand blindly, missing the snooze button three times before finally prying her eyes open. Her fingers found her phone, and she immediately switched to her burner account: @Fakequelle, the only place she could feed her ego in peace. She would never admit her sleuthing to anyone, saying she was above it, but in the same vein, she refreshed her tag every three minutes to see if anyone posted something about her.
Her morning browse always started with her favorite tags. Mostly… herself. Ever since Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse aired, a flood of new fans had appeared online, loudly proclaiming that she deserved more screen time, or that she was the best part of the show, or that she “carried every episode she was in.” The validation hit a part of her brain that real life never quite reached; she could endlessly bask in the infinite scroll of content all about her. She could also leave vicious hate comments for those who don't agree with her. It was truly paradise.
So she had seen pretty much every tweet, meme, and aesthetic board about Raquelle Harper in existence, or so she thought.
Today, something was different.
At first, it was the usual content: reaction gifs of her iconic lines, edits of her outfits, a fancam that she’d watched at least twelve times already. Then, she saw it: more posts tagged Barbie & Raquelle than usual. Not uncommon, people liked pitting them together, or comparing their aesthetics, or making those stupid “which one are you?” quizzes.
But then she scrolled.
And stopped.
And her soul briefly tried to leave her body.
Someone had posted fan art, which she usually loved, but this one… this one was different. It was a digital drawing of Barbie applying Raquelle’s lipstick, shown from two angles. Barbie looked flushed, eyes heavy, lips parted, looking lustfully. Raquelle had a look of startled longing, with a blush so heavy it nearly matched the lipstick shade.
What in the world?!
Her high blood pressure threatened to return. Something warm and fizzy crawled up her stomach. That was new. And absolutely not welcome. She quickly checked the comments.
MOREEEEE!!!
FINALLY
I need a full comic of this 😭😭😭
Girl no.. 🤮🤢
Omg Barquelle thank you
Raquelle and Ryan were so fruity it runs in their family.
Raquelle blinked. Once. Twice. Okay. What the actual hell was this corner of the internet she had stumbled into?
People… were shipping them. Her and Barbie. And calling her fruity?!
It had to be Ryan’s fault. Years of teasing him about his flamboyant tendencies must have blown back on her. But her, the Raquelle, who spent years chasing after Ken, shopping like it was a competitive sport, spouting iconic one-liners… why would anyone come to that conclusion?
Still, she clicked. Because of course, she clicked.
And thus she ventured into the wilderness known as the #Barquelle tag. The first thing she saw made her throw her phone across her bed and pace the room in sheer, refractory panic. An artist had drawn Barbie and Raquelle as cowgirls. Making out.
She took three laps around her room, two deep breaths, one very dramatic flop onto her mattress, and then, bracing herself, picked up her phone again.
More art. More edits. More text posts:
“Bi Barbie in every universe.”
“These two are gay your honor.”
“They’re the bi4pan couple.”
“barbiequelle is enemies-to-lovers material imo.”
“If Barbie’s not gay then what’s this?”
comment: oh they def fucking nasty 😭
[image attachment: Barbie, Raquelle, and that damn pink scissor]
It was obscene. Absolutely vile.
Repulsive.
Why would anyone — ANYONE — ship her with Barbie? Her nemesis. Her rival. The girl she’d dedicated years of her life to dethroning. The idea of them being together was laughable. Completely absurd.
…Her stomach twisted at the thought. The 95-degree Malibu heat had nothing on the furnace that was currently Raquelle. Clearly, it was simply a new, more intense version of loathing. Obviously. She kicked the blankets off, trying to cool down, and noticed a link under one of the posts.
Archive of Our Own?
She clicked. And froze. Fanfic. About her.
Exciting!
But… also about Barbie and her.
NOT exciting!
Scrolling sent her into a second meltdown. The tags were unhinged:
Rivals to Lovers
Idiots in Love
One-Sided Attraction
Everyone Is Gay
Stripper Raquelle
Bisexual Barbie
Lesbian Raquelle
Raquelle Bottom?!?
“Oh, what the fuck.”
Why was Barbie the top?! That wasn’t— that shouldn’t— that’s NOT the point, why was she even fixated on that part?!
This was all too much. People were writing about her and Barbie… bumping purses. Unspeakable things. Illegal things. She was going to sue them all for defamation. And libel. And emotional damages, probably.
Then she clicked on one of the fic summaries:
TLDR – Raquelle is clearly crushing hard on Barbie and can’t comprehend it, so she channels her feelings into their one-sided rivalry.
A complete mischaracterization. A joke. A lie. Rolling her eyes, she clicked on the nonsense.
She tried to read casually, like she wasn’t about to implode. Some parts were… insulting, though a little accurate. Obviously not the crushing part, but the channeling-of-emotions thing… okay, maybe she had been a little dramatic sometimes. For catharsis. Purely platonic catharsis.
Then she got to a spicy scene.
She exited the tab so fast she nearly cracked her screen.
Lightheaded, overheated, and vaguely questioning every decision she’d made in her life, Raquelle returned to Twitter and did the only thing that would restore balance to the universe: she sent Ryan an absolutely heinous Ken/Ryan fanfic.
Raquelle: I thought Barbie was my competition but I guess the biggest threat was closer than I knew. [https://archiveofourown.org/Barbie: Life in the Whorehouse]
Ryan: raquelle stop being a fujoshi.
Raquelle: A what???
Ryan: never mind where did you even find this??
Raquelle: Not telling 😇😈
*Two seconds later*
Ryan: oh! what is THIS we have here??? i guess Ken isn’t the only contender for Barbie’s heart.
[https://archiveofourown.org/Thank God You Introduced Me To Your Sister}
Raquelle: Ugh AS IF. These people are delusional freaks.
Ryan: idk Elle I’m pretty sold… i wonder what Barbie would think of this.
Raquelle: Ryan…
Don’t you dare.
Ryan: andddddd sent! 😋😸
i sent the stripper one btw.
Raquelle: I SHOULD’VE EATEN YOU IN THE WOMB
Fine. Two could play that game.
She sent Ken the most cursed Ryan/Ken fic she could find.
Raquelle: Oh and you’re the omega in this one 💅💁♀️
Ryan: just because you’re all weird about Barbie doesn’t mean you gotta make everyone else’s relationship weird
Raquelle: OH WHAT THE EFF YOU TOTALLY STARTED IT
Ryan: nu-uh YOU did, you sent it first
how did you even find that stuff to begin with…
*5 minutes later*
you leaving me on read is just gonna make me come up with my own conclusions 🙀
With an exasperated huff, Raquelle threw her phone aside and started her morning routine. Ryan had actually sent Barbie that fic. The stripper one. Her stomach flipped again.
Which meant she had to see Barbie later.
Which meant she needed the perfect outfit.
Forty minutes and half a closet later, she ended up wearing the first outfit she’d picked.
She stomped into her bathroom, attacked her 12-step Korean skincare routine, straightened her hair, and applied mascara, making sure she looked absolutely gorge.
Her phone dinged.
Barbie: Hey girl!! Imy you should totes stop by 😊
No explanation. No attached activity.
Not normal.
And absolutely terrifying.
Raquelle’s blood ran cold.