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maddie-grove · 9 months

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Most Common Problems Faced by My Childhood Dolls (Grouped by Type of Doll)

Baby/Companion Dolls: life-threatening diseases; bullying by other dolls at school; my dubious discipline style; my divorce from my imaginary husband Jake.

Groovy Girls: bullying by other Groovy Girls; life-altering gymnastics accidents; feet too unwieldy for go-go boots.

Barbies: false witchcraft accusations; real witches; tuberculosis; kidnapping; the time Ken and his brother Adam started a polygamous cult; bullying by other Barbies (whether in a normal high school or a beauty pageant or a cult); basically anything bad that happened to female movie stars in Hollywood under the studio system; the challenges of raising a million Chrissies and Kellies and Stacies and Skippers and similarly sized off-brand child dolls with little help from Ken or Adam; sibling rivalry (including an East of Eden-style mess between Ken and Adam).

Dollhouse Families: my friend Emily C. (I was Emily S.) stealing the mom doll from my old Fisher-Price family, leaving John (the dad) a widower, so when I got a new family a few years later, I decided that John should marry Patricia, the mom of the new family, which made it necessary for me to interpret Robbie (almost certainly meant to be a dad doll) as Patricia's teenage son, which was obviously very emotionally confusing for Robbie and exacerbated the usual tensions of a newly blended family.

Clothespin Dolls: Nancy, Alice, and Lily, the three charming clothespin dolls made by my genuinely talented great-aunt Beth in the 1960s or 1970s, were grown-up sisters who had a complicated dynamic (both Nancy and Lily had serious psychological and/or substance abuse issues, so Alice had to take care of them and Nancy's children and her own children) and also experienced nineteenth-century-literature-style problems, like diphtheria and ice-skating accidents and bear attacks. The clothespin dolls that I created myself as a tween/young teen were not as well-made, but their problems were generally limited to normal high school bullshit (not even the kind where you get poisoned or kidnapped!).

Miscellaneous Medium-Sized Figurines (mostly fast food toys of Disney characters and mini-Barbies): various passive-aggressive rivalries between groups (mini-Barbies vs. movie/TV characters, Disney vs. non-Disney, movie vs. TV, protagonist vs. non-protagonist, etc.); a lack of eligible bachelors (leading to unwise marriages, such as Belle from Beauty and the Beast marrying a temperamental Space Jam monster); ennui.

Playmobils: the Playmobils had a nearly utopian society, relatively free from poverty and class snobbery, and generally this diverse group of Union soldiers, stuffy Victorians, pirates, outlaws, royalty, horse girls, milkmaids, and fairies were able to work out their differences peacefully. However, all that progressive modernity had a dark side, most clearly illustrated by the Kafkaesque ordeal of Oliver, a boy who was imprisoned for no discernable reason by an evil psychiatrist and his social worker girlfriend despite the desperate efforts of his mother to free him. Intense wartime romances and infectious disease outbreaks were also common themes.

Fisher-Price Great Adventure Action Figures: these rather hideous but very fun toys (consisting of an anachronistic mix of knights, pirates, cowboys, and Robin Hood's Merry Men) belonged to my seven-years-younger brother, so we would play with them a lot while I was looking after him. Naturally there was a lot of military conflict and criminal activity built into our play (will Robin Hood and his friends be able to steal the treasure from the castle? Will the golden knights or the black knights win the big battle? Who will stop the stagecoach robberies?), but, to entertain myself, I would introduce storylines such as "the Golden Sword Knight is tired of being bullied by the other knights, so he runs away and goes to live in the forest with Robin Hood's gang, where he falls in love with a female outlaw" and "Little John starts a AC/DC-style rock band with two of the black knights and everyone hates it."

Fisher-Price Little People: easily the most provincial of the doll groups, the Fisher-Price Little People struggled with extreme class/wealth inequality, widespread adultery, child abuse, teen homelessness, practically non-existent resources for the disabled, sexual repression, a character known only as "The Pervert," and a killer clown. Every day they went to school and work, and every night they tried to find someone to hook up with and maybe got kidnapped. I only wish my brother and I had been in possession of the motel playset. Think of all the extramarital affairs and drug deals that could have happened there!

Polly Pockets: the Polly Pocket community was dominated by two wealthy factions, a nouveau riche pair of brothers with a beach party house and the royal family. Due to a severe job and housing shortage, plus the local men's habit of not acknowledging their natural children, ordinary Polly Pockets had to struggle and scrape. Compared with the Barbies, there was a lot of solidarity among women (and also Josh, the one working-class boy Polly Pocket). Many of the Polly Pockets were very fragile, including the alcoholic Cowgirl Becky and the agoraphobic piano player Penny.

Paper Dolls: intense status jockeying over who had the most/best clothes, mainly. They also fought about friendships and (if there were any of them) boys, but it ultimately came down to clothes.

#dolls #little john's signature song was called 'ride to hell'#'we're going along on a ride to hell/why don't you come along and feel the trail'#it was not good and everyone was so mad at him

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maryflorlovyblog · 1 month

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"What matters is what makes my eyes shine, my heart beat strong, the smile pop off my face. I think people are always big and sometimes small, like Playmobil toys. I see the world as always beautiful and sometimes gray, but for that there are colored pencils and the love that we learned at home from an early age. Remember? I have a heart bigger than me, I never know my height, I have the size of a dream. And the dream writes my life that sometimes I cross out, scribble, ball up and throw under the bed (to rest my soul and sleep peacefully)."

-Raio de sol

#maryflor #reflexões #raiodesol #positividade

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pebblysand · 8 months

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Hi can you do me a prompt? Cause I LOVE your writing! 💗

Ginny comes home from the 2014 quidditch world cup-reporting after a long long time away from harry and kids!

did it take me two and a half years to fill this prompt? yes. as evidence that no one should ever lose hope.

spring rolls, pizzas and curries

Tonight, after she gets home - after a smiling kiss hoisted up to the corner of his mouth, tippy toes and tight hugs to the kids - after a warm shower and a change of clothes, they'll order in.

It's the end of summer, that year. Leaves wilting in the trees; the wireless runs repetitive adverts for Hallowe'en decorations and this morning, when he headed into work, Harry noticed an irreversible sort of chill in the air; when Ginny comes down later, her hair wet over her shoulders, she'll be wearing a jumper. Lily and Al will soon hound her with questions, about the World Cup and about Namibia or about something else, and James will hurry into the kitchen too, just as she will pour herself a large glass of wine. He will be loud and lanky and almost-teenage. 'Where's food?' he'll ask, then.

And: 'Well, hello, Ronald,' she will laugh. Say.

Chinese, Indian or Italian - the kids will have their pick. It's a long-standing tradition in the Potter household since the dreadful winter of '09, when James had the flu and Lily was sniffling and Harry spent five days battling family germs on his own until Ginny came back from a work trip to save them all. He tiredly sunk into the couch next to her and: 'You should have stayed there,' he observed. Sighed like a headache. 'You're gonna catch it too.'

She shrugged. Smiled. Laid her head on his shoulder. He didn't have the heart to push her away. 'Let's order in, yeah?'

Harry will phone in. Everybody's favourites memorised like the faded lines at the back of his hand. There will be noise - James arguing with Al over the TV remote, Lily talking to herself, playing with her animal figurines and toy soldiers. She's built a whole ranch with Playmobils in her bedroom: fake horses and fake cowboys and fake fences - her magic makes it all move of its own accord - it's a bit of a nightmare.

The kind of nightmare Harry doesn't mind having.

They'll eat pizza on the couch or nems from clear plastic boxes scattered across the kitchen table, and the kids will fill Ginny in on everything she missed. Lily won't stop chatting and 'Mum' this and 'Mum' that, and James will say: 'Oh, will you shut up for once?' One of them - or both of them - will automatically throw back: 'James, don't talk to your sister like that.'

There will be second servings, thirds. Harry will smile and laugh, and feel like a weight lifted off his chest the moment she opened the front door just as easily as he will later clear the plates, with a simple wave of his wand. Ginny will go up to unpack, and he'll try to convince the kids to go to bed - with moderate success. James will try to convince him he needs a new broom, with no chance of success. Al will wandlessly tie his brother's shoelaces together before quietly retreating to his bedroom, a loud tumble ensuing with his victim falling flat on his face at the top of the staircase. He will deny having done any magic the next morning.

'Prove it,' he'll say.

Harry will want to smile (like a headache, too).

And, you know, he wonders - sure - but he's not jealous. Being jealous of his own kids would be fucking weird and, anyway, he's over it, now. He's even stopped being bitter. Ginny hasn't stopped being angry but there's something almost comforting about it, about her anger and her capacity for unrelenting outrage when they sent Petunia a card last Christmas and she wrote back: Please, take me off your mailing list.

'Cunt,' she said.

He winced or cringed, he's not sure. 'Yup.'

He's not jealous - not bitter - but he does wonder. He wonders and thinks of James. So, so tiny, in Ginny's belly. The first time he felt a kick against the tips of his fingers and held his breath - like, forever. And Ginny, who asked why he couldn't sleep, that night, watched him puff cigarette smoke out the window. 'I'm nervous,' he said.

'I'm the one giving birth,' she laughed.

'What kind of father do you think I'll be?'

He thinks of James and he thinks of Tom, sometimes. His palm against the skin of her stomach was sweaty - like warm, summer nights.

And, he looks at the kids and he wonders. What it would have been like. Growing up like that.

With them, you know?

He thinks of James again. Of James and of Albus and of Lily. He wonders if they know. That he's happy. That they're happy. That he's not jealous or bitter or angry. And, that love tastes like food. Like strawberries on Ginny's lips, and spring rolls, and pizzas and curries.

#hinny #hinny fic

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fandomnerd9602 · 1 year

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Heya ! Can I request please for a ATJ (dressed like bike peach) x male child reader fluffy oneshot please ?

#1 Fan

Anya Taylor Joy x Child!Reader

The big day had arrived for the young starlet: the world premiere of the Super Mario Bros Movie. Although Anya had always joked with her family that it was more of Peach’s movie. Chris would always joke in interviews about that too. Anya had her costume picked out and everything. You see everyone else was choosing a standard red carpet attire. Not Anya, she knew that if she was going to playing Princess Peach then darn it she was going to dress as such. You make your way towards the Universal fan event. It was for fans of Super Mario and all things Nintendo. But being only five at the time, you couldn’t exactly ride any of the fan event attractions. But you were all ready in your Mario costume with accompanying mustache to see the stars walk down the red carpet. You were smaller than the other fans, and so young too. You could barely see over the gate that the security had put you behind. But your young mind was on only one person: Anya Taylor Joy. She was your favorite actress. True you had only seen her in the Playmobil movie but you’d rewatch that countless times just for her. When your older sibling told you she was going to be in the Super Mario Bros movie as Princess Peach, you were so excited! As you stare through the gate, you could see Chris Pratt and Charlie Day as they walked the red carpet. Not that you could understand who they were, they weren’t exactly in costume or anything like that. “Looking cool!” Chris Pratt gave you a small smile and a salute. “You look more like Mario than me” “Everyone looks more like Mario than you, Chris” a familiar female voice chimes in. Your heart stops. You knew that voice anywhere. And there she was. Blond with hazelnut eyes and a smile that always made you feel good. Your idol was standing there decked out in her biker outfit from the film. It was like a dream come true for you. “And who do we have here?” Anya says, turning to you with a smile on her face, “I think I found my next companion for the Kart races” You could only nod your head as you locked eyes with her. Your idol was actually talking to you! “Your highness” was all you could say to her “My hero” she bowed right back. She looked to your parents, “mind if i steal away Mario here for a couple photos?” Your parents didn’t mind at all. Anya hoisted you over the fence, “come on hero, you’re needed on the red carpet” Chris Pratt and Jack Black were more than happy to jump in for some photos with you and Anya. And then the rest of the cast came around too. They were all just happy to see the look on a young fan’s face. Sometimes a little act of kindness can last a lifetime. And for you, meeting Anya and being her “date” on the red carpet was more than enough for you.

#anya taylor joy x reader #anya taylor joy imagine #anya taylor joy #child reader #celebrity x reader #celebrity #celeb imagine #celebrity imagines #celebrity imagine #celebrity x child reader #super mario bros movie #super mario bros #nintendo #illumination

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mmm-crackling · 1 year

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in my grief after finishing the song of achilles, i found out that playmobil makes an achilles and patroclus play set so of course i bought one

look at their smiling happy faces 🥹

riding their chariot together

#the song of achilles #achilles #patroclus #patrochilles #achilles and patroclus #the illiad

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neon-draws-sometimes · 8 months

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utmv if it was frisk playing with their toys??

Fresh has little charms that often come with dolls/ in fashion packs and clip onto his glasses.

He’s basically this universes Barbie, being everywhere and having many doll runs up to modern day

here’s his base if you wanna put funny little outfits on him

Error is similar to a preskool style toy, (with the play sets unlocking when you twist the figures) but combined with a a playmobil

he’s a sans figure from a different set that Frisk dribble all over because they didn’t want two of the same character and his face was really misprinted

The Dreemurr Family are in-universe Calico Critter equivalents

Some people say they’re creepy bc of the eyes but many people collect them

the lore of them on the back of the is they’re aliens but that’s not super important

Chara is from a kinder surprise toy, and their sweater is loose because it’s from a Dreemurr Family set and isn’t made to fit them

Toriel and Asgore are not together

Nightmare is apart of the Monster High-counterpart brand, and had a villain arc in an animated movie when his brother, Dream, decided to stay at the in universe Ever After High equivalent instead of coming back

his apple and tentacule pattern reappears in his jacket btw, I just didn’t feel like drawing it

(I haven’t drawn Dream yet)

Killer is dollar store bootleg Dream doll painted like the Sans figure His eyes are drippy bc the paint was wet when they packed him and the makers used too much of it He’s a bootleg of a kitchen set, hence the knife

He always follows nighmare around (made up by Frisk, to be clear)

I haven’t drawn the rest of the nightmare’s gang yet, but here’s the info

Dust is a Fresh bootleg with some different body parts but a bootlegger fresh head, so his proportions are strange And his seam on his torso is craking open and is held together with a rubber band His limbs always come out and he smells like chemicals

Horror is an action figure for some Walking Dead style show that Frisk got attached to and begged to buy him until their parents relented

haven’t drawn Mettaton yet, but he’s a competing fashion doll to Fresh, with his gimick being that his legs and arms pose like the lil guys above

the rest of his body is a normal fashion doll

Frisk gave him a chainsaw from Horror’s set and pained it pink and glittery

His box looks like his box form in the game (thanks for the idea, @paintedplum7 btw! Hope the @ is ok)

Fresh hates him, according to Frisk

Napstablook is probably one of these squishy mochi toys but I haven’t decided yet

Gaster is mad scientist themed putty, which “melts” like the picture above.

He has a plastic head part with goggles taht strap on, and comes with two hands each holding test tubes which you stick in the putty with the head to form his body

Vinny is apart of the Fresh line

He was originally a Fresh doll with a unique outfit, but was quickly given made his own character

he has molded on hair for sure. Except for Totally Hair Vinny, ofc

his full name is vinegar.

sans and papyrus are both evil skeleton guys who come in an evil cave lair set. Frisk decided they weren’t evil tho, so their personalities are exactly like canon.

Mad mew new is one is those super nice anime figures with multiple hands and faces

Alphys is a dinosaur figure like these. Made totally of vinyls and was pretty cheap. she was printed with a pretty silly face (this is a positive) She happens to fit a lab coat outfit and glasses Frisk has, thus becoming the alphys we know.

Undyne is a action figure from an old he-man type show. She is dating Alphys according to Frisk

Ink is a fashion doll, similar in style and proportions to the Rainbow High line. He’s not a high schooler though, he’s from one of those inspirational style lines. He’s an artist who is all about how cool being an artist for a career is. There’s other dolls in his line for different careers

Ccino is a strawberry shortcake style doll, who in his base outfit comes in a cafe with his cats. he’s scented like either coffee or French vanilla depending on if you got the early release or not. what happened with the change is a bunch of senstive parnets complained about his original scent and the coffee in his cafe, saying it was “too adult”, so he was changed to French vanilla, and the coffee in his cafe changed to hot cocoa

his cats are alls scented too, and flocked. they’re all named after competing doll brands/toy brand’s character (like how the real ccino has cats named after the au characters), which got his company into a lot of legal trouble lol

You can see some of them in the other character art above.

he’s only had two releases (the coffee and French vanilla versions) due to the companies financial troubles and all the lawsuits and no other character exist in his universe. ( :[ )

aannd I think thats everyone? Whew this is a long one

credits?

Greaser by @radsee

ink by @comyet

error and fresh by @/ loverofpiggies

undertale characters by Toby duh. It just feels weird not putting h him here ?? So

Killer by @rahafwabas

dust by @ask-dusttale

horror. @/sourapplestudios or something. I support don’t the ableism one the original, it won’t be in this au

ccino by @black-nyanko

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vedurnan · 9 months

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Get To Know Me

Tagged by @upatreewithoutaharness. thank you my angel, i love tumblr things like this :)

Tag (5) people you'd like to know better! I'm tagging @ivalician @offspring @scootil @softboypassing @psygull

Last song: At Giza by OM. i listened to it while stocking yogurt inside the cooler at work and it was great. i felt like i was in communion with all people who have lost themselves in the motions of a thoughtless and repetitive task. my coworker was on the other side facing the stuff as i was stocking it and she waved to me through the yogurt, which made me remember how we planned to hang out and watch conan the destroyer later in the week, and i thought about how we would order chinese food to eat while we watch the movie, how i was looking forward to that, and how cool it was of her to ask to come over and watch it. the whole experience made me very glad for my life which is a feeling that OM provokes in me a lot!

Currently reading: THE BOOK OF THE NEW SUN, endlessly... i am now early in Citadel of the Autarch. where will fate bring Severian next? i think much has yet to be fulfilled. it just keeps getting better and better. the book of the new sun is something that to me is so good it's almost impossible to talk about.

i pass in and out of reading a few other things also. two big ones for me have been the Penguin Classics selected writings of Meister Eckhart and The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching by Thich Nhat Hanh. i enjoy both but both leave me wanting something. i also have a kindle sample downloaded for Paul Takes the Form of a Mortal Girl, which a few friends were talking about reading together as part of a book club... although i have not looked at the sample yet!

Currently watching: last night i really wanted to watch Children of Men but i didn't want to pay the 4 dollars to rent it on any kind of service so i just watched clips on youtube from the movie until i felt like i remembered enough of the rest of it that it was "refreshed" in my mind and i didn't need to watch it again. remembering this makes me feel some regret. i should have just rented and watched the movie.

today i was thinking that i should watch some of the star trek shows from the 80s and 90s again. i loved them as a kid and there's this toy store near work that has tons of the old action figures of all the characters. one of my coworkers is super into star trek and he showed me his collection of like every deep space 9 figure. i have such a fond, warm place for those shows in my memory!

Current obsession: wintertime! i keep thinking about autumn and winter and how eager i am for them to come. i want to walk around in the frigid and misty winter night and go downtown and really feel like i am in the absolute center of some kind of cold, austere, hierarchical structure. then i go back to my apartment and the warm light and comfortable things. today my friend asked me if i was doing anything for christmas this year. like five months in advance! how cute! when i was a child for some reason i had a playmobil playset of the three wise kings from the nativity story. just the kings and their camel and their supplies, no other nativity stuff included. i had no awareness of any bible stories as a child except the nativity scene and i only knew about it because my dad explained who the three toy kings were. because of that i always associated christmas with a feeling of extreme ancient mystery as a kid

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jeanbie · 1 year

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♡˳೫˚∗ LOVELY #2 ★ masterlist.

pairing: jean x reader

genre: domestic au | warnings: suggestive sexual themes at the end | wc: 3.3k

⏤ Jean and Y/N play Mom and Dad for a little bit.

Jean could cry. He could quite honestly, genuinely, whole-heartedly cry, right here and right now in the middle of his living room, surrounded by mess and feathers from the bedroom pillows.

He loves kids, don’t get him wrong- my God, he loves kids, and loves how kids can make a house feel like a home, how kids say some really fucking weird things; but, Jean finds that kids are a lot of hard work. He has half the heart to call his parents and say sorry urgently, because children are like tiny spawns of Satan, demons wanting to cause chaos at every corner.

The last time Jean and yourself were given the mission of looking after your niece and nephews, they were much smaller, and therefore easier to look after. All they did was sleep, and cry when they were hungry or needed to pee or poop, and were perfectly content doing absolutely nothing all damn day. Now, three years later, when your sister and her husband are going on a small self-care vacation to Spain, Jean removes himself from the situation to observe the situation, which in description is the view of his living room completely ransacked and bustling with life, crazed children dashing around at full speed, like Mario Kart characters using the star.

It’s so overwhelming that he actually doesn’t even know what to say. When the fuck did they get so hard to look after?

Whenever your niece and nephews came over to visit, they clung to Jean like moths to lamplight. You never knew why, but it made sense. Jean was fun, and easy to get along with, and perhaps his kind-hearted nature was universally loved by all ages. Even when they were babies, they settled with Jean, staying silent and googly-eyed whereas in your arms they screeched, like banshees or dinosaurs swinging in trees. You couldn’t fault them; Jean was irresistible, maternal almost in the way his voice changed around the kids, the way he laughed at their weird jokes and forced himself into pretend roles, like the mean villain coming to take over their Playmobil hospital.

Eight a.m, that’s when they arrived. Jean had got up at six, eager and anxious, already cutting up salad bowls made up of apple slices and watermelons. Over an overly bitter cup of tea, you heard him ask, “wait, can three year olds eat watermelon?”, and you glared at him to resist the urge to respond with something that may well hurt his feelings.

(1)

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but you’re boring.”

Five year olds can be blunt and mean. You now know this to be a fact, because the eldest of the four just said that to you, his hands on his hips with his lips in an unamused pout. He stands by the window, one foot on the Playmobil ambulance and the other on his leg like a flamingo.

“What? Why, what did I do?” you ask, confused and honestly, slightly offended. Jean sits off to one side petting the hair of the youngest, his secret favourite because she’s not quite old enough to ask questions or complain.

“That’s what I mean, you’re not doing anything,” he huffs. “You’re supposed to be the bad police officer.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad police officer,” you try to tell him. You pause, realising you’re wrong but also realising that you’re not advised to get political with a five year old, especially one who still thinks the tooth fairy is a real thing. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You suck,” comes his reply. Jean snorts, shrugging when you glance at him angrily.

“Stop, you know I’m your favourite Aunt,” you say to him sweetly.

Your nephew, sassy and honest little Jamie, pulls a face and sits back down with a huff, snatching the ambulance off the carpet to thrust the small man inside. “You’re my only Aunt, Auntie Y/N.”

Right.

The not-so-bad-police-officer gets snatched away from you seconds later and you decide, with finality and assertiveness, that you’re done with playing pretend with them. You lift yourself up off the floor, crouching over to take Maria away from Jean’s arms. Jean pouts, his eyes blown wide as he watches the baby being lifted away from him and towards you.

“Uncle Jean can be the villain,” you suggest, making Jamie forget how uncool you are as he launches into an enthusiastic cheer, followed by his siblings who are making noise just because he is. Jean stares at you, pleading. “Anybody hungry?”

“No thanks, Auntie Y/N,” Jamie replies.

“Oh, do we have animal crackers?” asks Marcel politely, and you nod, taking his hand as you walk towards the kitchen, where a neatly packed bag sits on the counter where you left it when the four little monsters came by your apartment this morning.

(2)

“Y/N, did you move Jamie’s inhaler?”

“No, why?”

Jean appears in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous, absent-minded habit. His eyes are glued to the four children in the living room.

“They’re running around a lot, I don’t want Jamie to lose his breath and have an attack,” Jean explains, meanwhile you rummage around in your sister’s handy dandy travel bag and search for the tiny blue inhaler. Jean braves looking away from them and instead over to you, “if it’s not in there, it’s fine, I’ll check the bathroom again.”

You hum, searching blindly. “Yeah, it’s not here, baby. Check the cabinet under the sink, I’m eighty nine percent sure that it’s in one of those plastic boxes.”

Jean’s eyebrows push up in amusement: “Jamie’s life is counting on this eighty nine percent.”

“The more you question me, the less confident I get. Check the bathroom,” you reply, shoving a baby carrot into your mouth as you follow Jean out of the kitchen, opting to watch the kids while he rummages around in hordes of bathroom mess. While Jean hurries into the hallway to check the bathroom, you step out into the living room and pause comically.

The four kids seem perfectly happy, loud and obnoxious and covered in a thin layer of white feathers, bleeding from one of the pillows mangled on the floor. Without context, this looks like a murder scene, with crayons broken and split around the floor and the couch throw on the floor next to the Playmobil set, and you’re half praying on everybody’s behalf that those pillows aren't the ones from the master bedroom, because you’re pretty sure you don’t have any spares laying around for later.

“Found it,” Jean returns a few minutes later, holding the small inhaler in his hands. After taking a second out of the room, when he comes back he doesn’t quite know what to say. “The mess wasn’t my fault.”

You frown, your hands on your hips. “I know. Maybe you should put on a movie, keep them entertained for a bit so they don’t completely trash our house.”

Jean chews the inside of his lip. “Is it cheating if we call over Marco to help? He’s always on kiddie pool duty, he’s better with kids than we are.”

“You’re so good with kids, shut up,” you say to him, gently smacking his arm. “They love you.”

(3)

“I hate carrots.”

“You do like carrots.”

A gag. “Vegetables! Yuck!”

With one hand, you rake through your hair, staring tiredly at Jamie and Freddie as they fuss over the food on their plates. And it’s not even like you wanted to give them carrots! You’re just following the note left for you in the bag, with the instructions of an actual parent being your law. Jean sits at the other end of the table, twirling his fork around his food as he watches, feeling increasingly guilty.

It’s hard being an Aunt, especially hard being the uncool Aunt. He knows it’s just a joke, just something the kids say because you’re looking out for them, and he frowns, looking around the table.

“I’m allergic to carrots,” Jamie says suddenly.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, aeroplane feeding Maria who seems to be the only baby present who appreciates your efforts. She laughs and squeals as the spoon of food comes towards her and that makes you smile, animated sound effects as she eats it.

Jamie pouts, “It’s true.”

“Your Mom told me to feed you this, don’t hate me,” you say to him, making your own pout which he, as a stubborn five year old, ignores. “Come on, eat all your food and you can have pudding afterwards. I’ll let you have two slices of cake instead of one.”

He feels tempted. “Can I leave the carrots?”

“No. Carrots will make you super strong,” you explain. “Uncle Jean ate carrots when he was a kid and now he’s real strong, look!”

Jamie glances at Jean, who smiles for effect and encouragement. “Auntie Y/N is right. I hated carrots too, but I wanted to be big and strong so I ate all my vegetables.”

A groan of sadness comes out of Jamie’s mouth. At this point, Freddie is convinced, wolfing down his carrots that he actually doesn’t hate after-all, considering they’re gone in a matter of seconds. Marcel seems unbothered about the entire thing, quietly eating his food because he knows that he wants that additional slice of cake, even if Jamie is going to refuse it, he is not!

Before you can have a mental breakdown at the dinner table, Jean leans over slightly and looks at Jamie with a gentle and wide-eyed expression, child-like, engaging. “Did you also know that all the good kids on Santa’s nice list eat vegetables?”

Mid-mumble, Jamie freezes, looking at Uncle Jean. “Really?” Intonation, his voice is so high.

Jean nods. “Mhm! Santa said that if you eat your veggies and say thank you to whoever made you the meal, he’ll bring you anything you want on Christmas Day. Don’t you wanna be on the good list?”

Jamie nods furiously. “Yep! Uncle Jean, that’s so cool, you know Santa!”

(4)

Splash.

“Careful, honey, don’t get the floor all wet.”

“Sorry, Auntie Y/N. It was the ducky’s fault!”

Bath time is a chore, surprisingly harder than it was when they were babies and needed extra attention in the water. Marcel sits solo in the bathtub, the sound of Freddie and Jamie running around in the bedroom an ambience as you crouch by the tub and help Marcel get clean. Maria is the only child clean and patient, so calm and cute and cuddly and ready to go to sleep the second her bathtime is over. Jean groans somewhere in the apartment, keeping the twins entertained while Marcel finishes up.

“O-kay,” you say, after a few minutes of helping wash away some suspicious chocolate stains off his arms. Most likely super-cool-Uncle-Jean gave them something extra after dessert, and honestly, that wouldn’t surprise you if it were true. “All done! Feel better?”

Marcel nods, letting the duck float away. “Yep. I’m cold.”

“Once you’re dry and changed, we can put on the heating and finish up watching Cars, does that sound okay?”

“That sounds fun, Auntie Y/N! You’re the bestest,” he grins, and you grin too, because honestly, you’re taking coolness points in gasps, and anything to prove you’re not some grouchy unfun Aunt is welcomed and encouraged. Marcel doesn’t make a fuss as he gets dried, shuddering for extra effect and happily snuggling into his duck onesie once everything is dry and ready for him to get changed.

Marcel is a human rocket. He hops into his onesie and races back into the living room, reaching his final destination of Uncle Jean as a loud groan fills the house, likely due to the fact that Marcel has jumped on top of his Uncle, like he always does, just to get the reaction. You sniff, leaning to flush the toilet because apparently they haven’t quite mastered that one yet, and drain the bathtub. The floor sits wet, pooling like an extra tub or the floor of a shower and you sigh, grabbing an extra towel off the rack to soak up the bathwater, the low bubbling sound of the water disappearing briefly out-yelling the terrorsome three out in the living room.

“Need any help, baby?”

Behind you, Jean appears in the doorway, not quite in and not quite out. He hovers, waiting patiently to see if he can find an excuse to stop being a couch for the three kids. You lean over the bathtub, taking out their small toys and setting them on the side with hopes that they will dry overnight.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. Jean stands there, having changed, in an oversized jumper and sweats. “What are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Jean says. “I’d break it up, but I wanna see if they’ll learn their lesson once they get hurt.”

“That’s perfect. But fucked. Are we fucked up?”

Jean shrugs. “Worked for me and my cousins when we were younger. I turned out okay!”

You look at him for a moment with a bewildered look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

The bathtub makes a gurgle, the water gone and you crouch to pick up the bathmat, hanging it over the small radiator for it to dry faster. Jean then takes several steps backwards as you meet him outside, his smile widening as you close the door and turn off the light, falling into his arms with a soft thud and sigh. His arms wrap around you sweetly, warm and tight, like home. Jean likes weekends for the moments he gets to spend with you, but today, he’s barely seen you in his own home. Longing- Jean tightens his arms around you and presses his lips to the crown of your head, gently swaying you from side to side like a waltz. He knows you feel the same way, the same kind of tired and wanting energy, as your arms lock around him tighter.

“Come on,” Jean mutters, pouting slightly when you pull out of his embrace and glance up at him. He exaggerates it, humming, and then leaning to press his lips to yours. Moments after he pulls away, he comes back in for another, and another, his hands molded behind your back. “Love you,” he adds in between one kiss, and you hum in reply. It’s enough.

There’s a pitter-patter of feet. “Ewwww! Auntie Y/N and Uncle Jean are having sex!”

You pull away from Jean with such speed that it might give you whiplash; Jamie stands looking slightly horrified in the hallway, near the door to the living room, proud of his rising of ews that follow from his siblings near the TV.

“Don’t say that! Where did you even learn that word?” you gasp, moving towards the five year old.

Jamie shrugs. “Heard it at Mommy’s birthday party. Uncle Reiner said it.”

You sigh knowingly. “Should have known.”

“Please don’t go around saying that when your Mom and Dad come to get you,” Jean adds in, looking flustered from behind you.

(5)

The bathroom light switches off. Jean closes the door and rubs his face, groaning out aches from his shoulders as he approaches the bed, shirtless, his toes curling into the carpet.

“I swear they weren’t that crazy last time we looked after them,” Jean says, sinking onto the bed. “Have they always been like that? Am I the crazy one?”

“It’s this scary thing called growing up,” you reply, sitting back against your pillows with your phone in your hands, the screen lighting up with new messages from your sister. “Can’t believe you got them to go to sleep without any trouble. It’s giving me baby-fever…”

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna have to ask you to slow down,” replies Jean, sounding winded.

“Everytime you hang out with them, it just proves to me how good you are with kids, and how, you know, someday you might be a Dad and- ugh, you’re gonna be great,” you sigh, followed by Jean grunting with amusement and shuffling to lay right beside you, his nose on your arm. You set your phone down, turning to match together against him like a puzzle. “They’re not shy when it comes to picking favourites. God, they really hate me.”

Jean rolls his eyes, “No, they don’t. They love you- you’re so good with looking after them. If I was doing all this alone, there’s no doubt I’d probs forget to feed them at dinner time. I’d straight up order a pizza and forget that kids need certain foods to grow up.”

Laughter suffices as a reply, and that’s that for a little bit. In his head, Jean wants to talk all about how great of a Mom you’ll be, how amazing it would be for him to watch you raise children, his children. He doesn’t say any of these things, because he’s one-hundred-percent certain that you know it all already, and that you’re just modest and insecure about it. So, Jean hums and pulls you closer for a hug, smooching your lips when you’re close enough.

The door is closed. The four kids are sleeping, Maria so deep in sleep that not even her brothers could wake her up if they screamed. Jean knows this. You know this. So, he moves his hand from your back to your ass, feeling the curve, feeling the smile against his teeth.

“Stop, our niece and nephews are next door,” you warn him, quietly, mumbles against his mouth. Jean smirks, gently nipping your bottom lip with his teeth and pushing his head into your neck.

“And it would suck to wake them up,” Jean replies, worming his way into places hot and inviting. “So, keep it quiet, yeah?”

You huff, rolling to your back and parting your legs as Jean slots in between. “I love when you get bossy on an evening,” you say to mock him and he laughs quietly.

“I love you,” he breathes.

(6)

“And they were good?”

Jean and yourself share a glance.

“Golden,” you say.

Your sister stands in the kitchen, giving you both the stink eye while the three older kids race around the house, excited at the fact their cool parents are home three days later. Honestly, she knows you’re lying, because these are her kids and she knows them better than anybody.

Anyway, she shrugs. “They must always be good for you guys. You can babysit more often.”

Jean tenses in his seat. He loves these kids but, holy fuck, the thought of looking after them again so soon makes him want to throw up. If there is one thing Jean has learnt from looking after three wild rampaging children and one angelic princess baby- but, again, he has no favouritism!-, it’s that it is absolutely harder than it looks.

It’s not enough to put him off though.

(7)

[5:45pm] Mean Sibling #1: Tell me why Jamie is talking about how you and Jean had sex [5:46pm] You: OMG THATS NOT TRUE [5:46pm] You: well, i mean… [5:46pm] You: not in front of them !!!! what kind of aunt do you think i am????? [5:49pm] Mean Sibling #1: How does he even know what sex means….how does he know that word [5:50pm] Mean Sibling #1: Hubby is laughing at me. what does my husband know that i don’t [5:52pm] You: that sounds like a you problem [5:54pm] Mean Sibling #1: ok well sorry for accusing you :P gotta give my FIVE YEAR OLD a talk….dear fucking god [5:59pm] Mean Sibling #1: wait a damn second wtf do you mean NOT IN FRONT OF THEM??? [6:00pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N ANSWER UR PHONE [6:01pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N [6:03pm] Mean Sibling #1: fucker

#attack on titan #aot #jean kirstein #jean #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein imagine #aot imagine #aot fluff #attack on titan imagine #jean x reader #jean kirstein fluff #snk #snk fluff #snk jean #aot jean #jean imagine #upload #ittojean #jeanbie

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celestialspecial · 2 years

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These Beautiful Moments

Epilogue snippets from These Beautiful Torments

Warnings- Fluff, so much Dad!Billy, just cute ass Billy with his son

Billy walked into the diner, his usual haunt late some evenings, and occasionally early Sunday mornings. The waitress smiled and gestures to his spot, in the back by the window, she remembered him from when he would show up at 3am after a long work haul, just leaving the office and craving shitty coffee and greasy food. Strolling in, wearing his three piece suits and a satisfied tired look in his eyes.

Nowadays they’d still remembered him, but a different kind of satisfied tired in his eyes, and now the company he brought was different. A baby carrier carseat in his one hand, bag of tricks that all new parents got acquainted with one way or another, in the other. Sitting down he settled the baby onto the table in front of him, giving the most grateful look to the waitress who without needing input brought over a pot of coffee for the table.

It was early morning, a Tuesday. Working remotely was Billy’s new favorite thing, when you’d go into the office it was just him and the baby, unless your schedule got reversed or tangled somehow. Anvil had been rebranded, a new facelift and look, something more along the lines that Billy could better stand behind after the internal transformation he’d also experienced.

He was no longer ceo but was able to get a higher placed position in there once again, now that his name was cleared, the work of his friends and friends of friends had gone over well, in some eyes he might even be considered a hero, but he’d dismiss any notion of that.

It was drizzling outside, hopefully clearing by early afternoon but right now he enjoyed the peace of it, not many people were in the diner because of the weather and that’s how he liked it. Jack let out a high pitched shriek of joy watching Billy pour himself a cup of coffee. Baby babble was a new language he was picking up on, smiling and making a goofy face at Jack before tickling the baby’s side.

His new son was only a few months old but watching him each day and how he grew, and learned and picked up on things confounded him every time. You were right, Jacks eyes had begun to darken into that chocolatey brown, large orbs staring back at him as he added cream and sugar. The little guy seemed to take in everything at once, looking around from his seat, playing with his buckle and wiggling trying to break free.

Jacks favorite place was on a blanket on the floor, where he’d lay in his tummy, or look up at the playmobile Billy had assembled with all sorts of fun things that moved, rattled, and made other fun noises. The little guy was getting strong enough to push up and rock back and forth, crawling would come next and Billy knew neither of you were gonna be ready for that.

You had gotten a book for Billy to read to Jack about baseball, coming with its own soft toy to accompany the story. Jack liked to mouth at the toy while his father read. You could tell Billy couldn’t wait to toss a ball back and forth with him and his son.

“The usual?” The older waitress asked Billy, before turning to Jack and making kissing noises at him, Jack gave his signature beaming gummy smile in return, as well as a string of nonsense noises.

“Yes please.” He responded watching her walk off before turning to his son. “A ladies man just like your old man. Gonna be making me jealous, huh?” Jack made a gurgling noise before returning his attention to breaking free of his restraints.

Billy was lost in his coffee, not hearing the sound of the bell ringing as the door opened and another patron walked in. Jack noticed though, clapping his hands and blowing a spit bubble. “What are you doing?” Billy asked him, amusement glimmering in his eyes watching his son grinning back at him.

“Oh boy, he’s got your smile.” Billy nearly choked on his coffee before turning around to see his old friend…former friend? Not really sure- but Frank, standing before him. Frank nodded his head to the seat across from Billy, who silently nodded, watching the other man scoot into the booth, pouring a cup of coffee from the nearly empty pot. He didn’t really know what to say, thankfully his little man was never at a loss for words…or rather making noises.

Jack cooed, and babbled on, to himself or to anyone within earshot all before sticking his foot into this mouth, sucking on the fabric of his pajamas.

“Kids got a mouth.” Frank noted, taking a sip of the dark beverage. “He looks…”

“Just like me.” Billy responded, running a hand through his hair, then laying it protectively over Jacks tummy. Frank ‘hmmmfed’ in agreement.

“I’m sure y/n loves that.”

“She likes to joke with me about it all the time.” Billy’s eyes squinted at Jack who made a big yawn, releasing his foot and potentially was getting tuckered out from trying to escape his car seat. After a moment of awkward silence Billy was the first to speak again, “Were you just… in the neighborhood? Or-“ he couldn’t think of the next words. Wondering how Frank had found him, maybe not even how, but more of a why.

“I know we left on…terms that were shaky. Our lives have not been…well they should’ve been different. I’m sorry for, for not listening to you or believing some of the things you said. I-“ Billy held up a hand, Frank had no need to apologize, for anything. Looking at his little boys eyelids get heavy, starting to drift off to sleep in his carrier, inconceivably small.

The love he had for this little human who’d only been in his life less than a year, coupled with the love he had for you that bloomed larger and larger than he ever thought possible day after day. To imagine…that being taken from him right before his eyes…there were few fates worse than death and his friend had suffered it.

“Frankie…you don’t have to apologize. Not even once. I- should’ve been a better friend to you. If I could go back-“

“I do have to apologize. If I’d have just listened to you even after the fact I wouldn’t have…your face..” two marines trying to make amends, with feelings put into words they both could barely manage.

Billy rubbed a hand over his face. The scars were fully healed, no longer red and angry but a softer pink, in some places on his nose and hairline fading to the silvery white that most scars got to. There were days where he still felt like a monster, catching a look at himself in the mirror, craving to don another mask to conceal his features.

But then Jack would either wake up from a nap, or look up from his place playing on the floor and just seeing Billy’s face he’d smile from ear to ear in recognition of his father. It was enough to make Billy tear up, and often times he did. And you, his love, the only good thing he’d ever done besides father Jack, would hold his face, kissing him tenderly. Running your hands over his body, neck, jaw, facial features, kissing each one in kind, seeing him for who he truly was and still attracted to him.

Becoming a parent with you by his side was the greatest adventure, terrifying and wonderful all at once. Jack’s little brows drew up into a frown from his seat, he’d just been falling asleep and suddenly was once again awake and fussy. Making noises of distress in his chair.

Billy unclamped the straps and hoisted the little bundle into his arms, who then chose to thrash uncomfortably in his fathers arms, tears beginning to form, little whimpers and cries that still broken Billy’s heart even if they were just for hunger or a diaper change. Frank finished his cup of coffee and gestured with his hands to Jack.

Hesitating but reassured by Frank’s surprisingly gentle smile, Billy handed the squirming baby over to Frank who adjusted Jack in his arms, holding him taut against his chest, standing to bounce in place gently soothing the crying child. Billy watched in awe as Jack immediately calmed, eyes still bleary with tears but the redness in his cheeks died down and he blinked a few times looking up at the burly man holding him.

They had fought side by side, overseas and at home. Gone through basic training together. Been punched, jabbed, rain drenched with mouths full of mud to the bitter end. They’d suffered bullet wounds, bombs, and basically everything else the world could possibly concoct to attack a person and yet here they both stood. The man across from him by all accounts was a cold blooded killer, and yet here he stood, bouncing back and forth on his heels, shushing the small baby in his arms.

Jacks large dark eyes fluttered closed, rubbing his face into Frank’s sleeve as a long yawn escaped his mouth. The kid was out cold. Once he realized they were in the clear Frank scooted back into his seat still cradling Jack as Billy’s food arrived. Billy made to reach for his son but Frank shook his head, nodding towards the steaming plate of breakfast food.

“I suggest you enjoy this moment of eating hot food while you still can.” There was mirth in his response, but Billy nodded realizing the truth in the other mans words. Digging into his bacon and eggs, eyes flicking up between bites to gauge if Jack was still ok and asleep. “You can relax, I’m not gonna steal the kid.”

“Sorry. I don’t think that…I just… I didn’t know a person could worry so much.” He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing when it was just him the world could be as cruel and awful as it needed to be but then he found you. Then there were three. Worry for his wife, for his child, seemed to dominate his thoughts.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, that never goes away.” Frank brushed a soft whisp of dark hair off Jacks forehead as the sleeping baby only nestled in deeper. “I can’t believe how much he looks like you.” Billy smiled at the little baby, it was a comment he got all the time. Karen insisted that her friend got jipped doing most of the work for him to be a carbon copy of his father.

“I love him more than life itself.” Billy shook his head. “I didn’t even think it was possible for me to feel this way.” A soft snore emanated from the sleeping baby, but Billy looked at Frank’s face as he readjusted baby Jack. The reality of the situation began to sink into Billy’s head. Watching his friend tenderly holding the newborn, a glazed look in his eyes staring down at the sleeping baby.

Frank had all this taken from him. His wife. His children. The reason he had for living, was just…gone. Billy had loved Maria and the kids, they were the family he never had but he was still an outsider. Their loss was felt painfully by him but he couldn’t fathom being the last one left. When rawlins had taken you captive, when he wasn’t sure you and Jack would have made it, he could barely cope, but you did survive and you both were here. Happy. Safe.

“Ya know, it’d be nice if you could stick around this time. Be in his life.” Billy nodded towards the sleeping baby. “I’d like it if you stuck around. Give me some tips?” Frank continued to look down upon the sleeping newborn, a glazed look in his eyes, unreadable expression. After a long drawn out moment he looked up to meet Billy’s eyes and nodded.

“I could maybe do that.” Running a rough finger over the baby’s chubby cheek and pouting lips. “Make sure you don’t fuck him up too much. Would you like that? Having Uncle Frank over more often?” The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk and Billy responded with a smile of his own. Resting his elbow on the table and leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, watching his oldest friend holding his brand new son.

Jacks little eyes fluttered open, large dark orbs taking in the room around him. So innocent and small, Billy was amazed more and more everyday watching his boy grow, taking in the world and feeling a sense of gratitude he’d never felt before. Not when we was Ceo, not when he had the slickest sports car, no, this was incomparable.

The sight of his son waking up from a nap to see his father who had done so much wrong in his life and giving him the biggest smile anyways. He wasn’t a marine to Jack, or a lieutenant, nor a business executive, he was a father, a safe place, a new start.

Everything he didn’t deserve but was beyond grateful to have. To learn to make it right. His own father was never there, but each day and every night he swore that Jack would never have to wonder where his father was, and if he was loved.

Billy finished his food and tossed back the rest of his coffee, allowing his shoulders to relax an iota more as Frank gently rocked Jack. The baby still soothed, awake but drifting in and out of alertness. He watched as his friend finished his own coffee in return and Billy took out a card, handing it to the passing waitress who spent the next few minutes making cooing noises and gestures at the drowsy baby.

“Yucking up the attention.” Billy murmured pleasantly, running a finger over jacks cheek as well.

“Wonder where he gets it.” The two shared an amused laugh before readjusting Jack into his car seat, moving towards the exit as the early morning ebbed into its usual bustling New York mornings. Even the weekends weren’t slow or quiet.

Frank turned to Billy one more time, “I’ll see ya around?” A soft question, it didn’t escape Billy’s notice of his friends eyes darting down to the bundle, who was now once again asleep.

“You’d better come around. This one’ll be looking for you if you don’t.” He slowly raised the car seat in gesture to Jack who only nuzzled his face deeper into the fuzzy blanket tucked around him. Frank smiled, a genuine smile, that Billy couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it. His friend then placed a strong hand on his shoulder, clapping his back once, giving a salute and turning in his heel, hands in his pockets as he disappeared into the city.

Once his friend was out of sight Billy looked down at Jack, sleeping peacefully in the loud hubbub of the city that carved Billy into the man he was today. Knowing it would mold and sculpt his son into the man he’d become as well. But hell bent on making sure he was there every step of the way, supporting and loving his boy in every way he knew how or would learn. With you by his side as well, for the first time knowing and feeling he wasn’t alone.

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #Billy Russo x Reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x y/n #ben barnes character #ben barnes #the punisher #the punisher au #the punisher fanfiction #marvel the punisher #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel moodboard #frank castle #karen page

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 10 months

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Scarecrow figure review!

I bought two figures off of Ebay shortly after the Cranerot hit, but one only arrived like two days ago!

Behold, the Alex Ross Scarecrow fig and the Kubrick Scarecrow, the latter being the one lost in the mail. More pics under the cut

The Alex Ross one is *lovely*. A lot of loving detail The box is nice if you're a MOC kind of collector, but I made sure to get a dinged box so I wouldn't feel bad about opening.

The sticks around the face are intriguingly uneven, and if you squint you can see the thin face outlined by the mask is clearly a skull - you can make out the individual teeth, and the nose is shorter than Jon's one on his regular face. The posture is naturally a little hunched, which you can play up more or less as you see fit - his torso does rotate under the coat.

His knees and hips ate fully articulated, and you can adjust the positioning of his feet, but the plastic of his coat is too stiff to allow more dynamic poses. Fortunately it suits him well, as this feels more like a Scarecriw you would find shuffling out of the fog at you than anything else.

The real winner, and the reason I bought this, is his lovely thin face. He's absolutely gorgeous, especially his big honking nose - the only complaint I have about his masked face is that the profile is so much shallower. It must be so uncomfortable to have the tip of his nose squished down by it!

This fellow decided to wait for a month and a have lost in customs. He's quite fun - a Kubrick, and it's sibling line the Bearbrick, are an awful lot like a sized up Lego minifig. I don't own any minifigs to properly show the size difference, but your average one would come up to about his shoulder. He's more comparable in size to a Playmobil figure.

Despite his small size and limited articulation, Little Crow is surprisingly dynamic!

Ain't nobody gonna break his stride, ain't nobody gonna hold him down!

Anyway, these are fun little figures! The Kubrick is more fun to play with, the Alex Ross more fun to look at. If you're too into Scarecrow, I highly recommend either.

#scarecrow #batman #dc comics #batman rogues #action figures #review #kubrick #dr jonathan crane

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soullikethesea · 9 months

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I feel like I made some more progress.

If I'm following my impulse, the impulse with the family memories is to cry. Cry and have it be OK to do so. That is what seems to help. It seems to counter that feeling of needing to put on a brave face and stuff everything away inside as much as possible, freeze it up, hide it, erase it. No, I can't erase my discomfort. Not as much as I hope I'm able to.

Specifics below (might be boring)

I put out some Playmobil figures and cried while stating some very basic facts. We went on holiday. There were two adults and three kids. It was really hot. There were forests. We would lie down by the river and read. In the car sometimes my sister allowed me to listen to her music with her. I would draw with my brother. Food was scarce. I would text with my mum and with Bf sometimes and I was too scared to tell them the bad stuff. I kept it all inside. Or sometimes I would try running to process feelings, the fear.

It happened. No matter how much I wish it didn't and no matter how much I shrink and silence it all away inside. It happened and it has an effect on me and I try to be okay, but I'm not. I don't have words for what was not-okay, but my body kept the score. I think there was some sort of promise to myself to never go through that again: the heat, that landscape, in a group of people (who could turn against you).

I cried for the pain I felt and I let my hand hold my other hand. "I'm with you in that car, you're not alone." I remember how powerless it felt. Back then I had no choice but to endure. My siblings and I did feel some silent connection. At least I had that with my sister. She seemed to be a little bit aware. My brother has never known anything else and was so young that I don't think he was. He is so loyal to our parents that idk if it would be possible to process for him. But I couldn't talk to either of them because they weren't the ones outcasted. No one was secure enough to talk. I don't think any of us had words.

I think there's another layer of grief because Bf saved me. I was thinking of him all the time. He was my beacon of hope. "Someone cares about me."

I used to listen to "Time of dying" by Three Days Grace. It's kind of about realizing that you're living in a nightmare and willing yourself to survive. "I will not die, I'll wait here for you. I feel alive, when you're beside me."

But to think that he was sick and that I walked into that trap with open arms as well... Pretty rough.

My previous T tried using imagery to change the memory. She said she'd come and get me in the memory and we'd have dinner together and I wouldn't have to go back. Sadly, it makes me feel that same stuckness as back then. What would happen to my siblings? They would never choose to leave. Would they be OK? What would happen to me, alone and away from my family?

I have yet to figure out "what I needed" and then a way to change it that actually fits. Or maybe there is no way and it needs a different approach. I know now that crying and finding words are good.

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fearsmagazine · 2 months

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IMAGINARY - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Lionsgate

SYNOPSIS: Max and Jessica decide to move the family back into her childhood home, Jessica’s happy place. Her youngest step daughter Alice finds a stuffed bear named Chauncey behind a small door in the basement. Alice develops an eerie attachment to the stuffed bear and she starts playing games with Chauncey that begin playful but become increasingly sinister. Alice’s behavior becomes increasingly concerning. Jessica attempts to intervene only to realize Chauncey is more than a stuffed toy bear and she is more connected to him than she remembers.

REVIEW: Jeff Wadlow, known for directing films like "Cry Wolf" (2005), "Kick-Ass 2" (2013), and "Truth or Dare" (2018), has released the first of two films this year that delves into the theme of imaginary friends. The screenplay, co-written by the writers who worked on "The Princess and the Frog" (2009) and "Playmobil: The Movie" (2019), blends a mix of genre cliches with a dark childhood tale that feels like it is inspired by "Coraline" (2009). However, the film lacks cohesion and struggles to find its own unique voice, resulting in a jumble of elements that clash with one another.

If you or your children enjoy genre-specific entertainment, "IMAGINARY" falls short in delivering an imaginative supernatural tale and compelling characters. The central location, a house reminiscent of the one in "Poltergeist," lacks the same level of scares or physical manifestations. Alice resembles Carol Ann, Betty Buckley portrays a Tangina-like character, and Veronica Falcón is the new Dr. Lesh.

The narrative marginalizes the father figure, Max, early on as he heads out on a tour, leaving the female characters to confront the supernatural entity on their own. Gloria's explanation of the entity's nature feels superficial, and a later twist involving a character lacks emotional weight.

The three main characters, Jessica, Taylor, and Alice, possess interesting traits but fail to engage the audience. There's an aspect to them that evokes a Hallmark Channel's foray into Halloween-themed movies. The story appears to target a broad audience but fails to resonate with any specific age group or demographic.

While the casting is admirable, the performances are constrained by the material, limiting their potential impact. Actress DeWanda Wise consistently portrays an upbeat and cheery demeanor, but her lack of a poker face in the third act's surprise reveal undermines its effectiveness. Taegen Burns and Pyper Braun deliver solid performances, yet I failed to experience any genuine terror or suspense regarding their circumstances. As a fan of Betty Buckley, I found her character lacking essential elements. Her motivations remain unclear, leaving me feeling unsure of her actions and direction at times.

In terms of production, the film combines a dark fairy tale story with a bright sitcom visualization. Chauncey's realm has a dreamlike aesthetic, avoiding a nightmare feel. While other films, such as "Coraline," targeted at children, have embraced darker and more menacing themes, this film maintains a more lighthearted tone. The character of Jessica, an author/illustrator of children's books, creates a spider and a centipede that visually resemble the characters in "Coraline." The costumes contribute to the sitcom vibe. Chauncey's design resembles a furry version of a creature from "Five Nights at Freddy's." While some younger viewers may find certain visual and special effects frightening, those accustomed to computer games will have likely encountered more terrifying visuals, such as those in "Limbo" and "The Little Nightmare" series. The score incorporates numerous movements that pay homage to other genre film scores, and the end credits feature a Chauncey song with lyrics reminiscent of the "Nightmare on Elm Street" musical nursery rhyme.

IMAGINARY, while an intriguing concept, falls short due to its over-reliance on predictable cliches, resulting in a story that lacks genuine audience connection. Despite the efforts of the cast and director Jeff Wadlow's previous successes, this film unfortunately misses the mark, feeling more like an uninspired homage than a compelling, frightening narrative.

CAST: DeWanda Wise, Tom Payne, Taegen Burns, Pyper Braun, Veronica Falcon, and Betty Buckley. CREW: Director/Screenplay/Producer - Jeff Wadlow; Screenplay - Greg Erb & Jason Oremland; Producers - Jason Blum & Paul Uddo; Cinematographer - James McMillan; Score - Bear McCreary; Editor - Sean Albertson; Production Designer - Meghan C. Rogers; Costume Designer - Eulyn Colette Hufkie; Creature Effects Designer - Mike Elizalde; Special Makeup Effects Artist - Eden Elizalde; Special Effects - Carlton Sims; Visual Effects - Crafty Apes. OFFICIAL: www.imaginary.movie FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/ImaginaryFilm TWITTER: twitter.com/ImaginaryFilm TRAILER: https://youtu.be/lAWIYZFvOD8 RELEASE DATE: In theaters March 8th 2024

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay), or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

#film review #movie review #imaginaryfilm #blumhouse #lionsgate #jeff wadlow #jason blum #dewanda wise #Taegen Burns #pyper braun #Betty Buckley #horror #supernatural #joseph b mauceri #joseph mauceri

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