Barbun bun

Barbun. That was the one guilty pleasure of Arrabella’s life. Enjoying sex, burlesque, and theater were all acceptable. Or at least that's how they perceived it. Arra felt those were more acceptable for them to indulge in. But a massive collection of dainty plastic ladies seemed odd. Keeping a few would be fine, a bit strange maybe, but otherwise respectable. But Arra was an avid collector. An entire room in their home was dedicated to shelves of little women, their cars and homes. Even an expansive little closet of tiny clothes on equally tiny hangers, all aligned perfectly on racks.

Everything was neatly aligned. The room had been redesigned as a Barbun paradise. Floor to ceiling pink shelves on every wall, only deep enough for a boxed doll to sit in comfortably. Lighting on the upper shelf kept the dolls perfectly illuminated without the risk of UV from the sun. Half the shelves held dolls in boxes, forever preserved in their plastic cases. The other half were out of boxes, instead they stood on sturdy stands glued to the shelf. The extra security is welcomed for such prized possessions. Not all of them were expensive collection pieces, some had been bought out of joy from local sellers and eBun type sites. Regardless of value, they are all priceless to Arrabella. Their tiny clothes were painstakingly washed by hand, as was their hair. Then the plastic girls got makeovers if needed, and were finally dressed and displayed among the ranks of other Barbuns.

The middle of the room held an island of sorts. The thing held a stupidly fine marble countertop that shined under the gentle lights of the chandelier above. On its top was tools to repair and restore all things Barbun. Considering the amount of use the items got, they were surprisingly well organized and stocked. Everything was in its place in this room, and always would be,
The island's longer sides held wide and deep drawers to store unopened cars and pools. It was the last storage solution in this room, soon the bun planned to expand the collection to the basement, as soon as it was finished to their specifications. For now, the drawers were good enough.
The connected closet had been long since filled with boxes of Barbun homes and furniture. Though the sliding door on said closet was always open. It felt criminal to hide such beautiful and well designed boxes from view. Arra had made sure to have more shelving put into the closet, and each box was arranged to show its main design.

Glass cabinets were in all the non vital floor space, almost making it claustrophobic if not for the careful planning that had gone into their placement. Each holding smaller things like Impups and bonezo Barbun toys meant to be companions for the dolls.
More than one of these cases held custom made dolls that could barely be discovered as such, they were such good replications. Only their unique coloring could make one guess they were not a simple Barbun pet. A bonezo resembling Arrabella’s own plush Bonezo was mingled in with other bonezos of varying colors. None quite as floppy looking as the custom doll. It was a merge of two of Arrabella’s loves, their pet and their collection.
Another, a red impup stood among a crowd of standard black impups, but looked just as happy to be there as the rest did. Not a single one caring that their brightly colored friend was different. Or that's how Arra perceived the group of them anyhow.

A final custom could be found, a steleram in a flock of other less starry rams. Its head bowed as if eating. But its shut eyes told the truth, it was sleeping. Just like the sleepy pet did in person.


Arrabella had had a few that were beyond repair, but refused to give up on them. Instead they had use sheer determination to force the plastic into new forms, fitting of the Barbun brand, they refused  to let a single piece of a doll go to waste. Even if broken or warped, each doll had a story. They had been loved, perhaps a bit thoroughly, and it had changed them. Thus Arra strove to reuse as much as possible to repair other dolls or make entirely new franken dolls. After so many years of doing their craft, it was impossible to tell the difference. The buns repairs were seamless, and seemed as perfect as the factory details.


The most beloved piece, set on her own pedestal, was Arra’s first Barbun doll. Given to them by Murmur, and loved ever since. Her hair was ginger, like their own, and her ears were a similar creamy shade. Arra had built themself to be as beautiful, kind and caring as Barbun. That doll had shaped their future, and she had earned her spot on that pedestal. The centerpiece of Arra’s collection.