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fumifooms · 2 days

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Chilchuck, family & alcoholism

Collection of thoughts and speculation on Chil’s upbringing, his dynamic with his family and how alcoholism ties into it all. If you want the groundwork info on Chil’s background I recommend my masterpost on his family, here it’s really just me speculating from the crumbs we get of his parents and siblings, how it’s all affected him and in turn affected his own wife and kids etc etc.

There’s nothing more I’d like on mother’s day than to speculate about Chilchuck’s maladaptive attachment style. I’m fascinated by how distant everyone is and how much he’s been devoted to them all despite having been so absent. Intergenerational trauma get over here

Actually it’ll be easier if I make a rundown here too, it’s just stuff I reiterate from my masterpost tho.

Tiny table of contents: 1- rundown: family facts 2- rundown: alcoholism 3- dad 4- parenting 5- daughters 6- wife

^ Every time his dad gets mentioned. His mom never gets mentioned. His siblings I think are only ever mentioned in this extra, and then there are more ambiguous relatives cameos.

We know is hometown isn’t Kahka Brud, but we’re not sure wether he moved there upon getting his own house (presumably around when he got married at 13), or if it’s only after his wife when he rented out his place to relatives then rented the place in Kahka Brud.

If he rented it out to relatives, maybe that meant it was in his hometown? Especially if he and his siblings are "almost strangers" so presumably he doesn’t really keep in touch with his family. And I mean, he hasn’t seen his wife or daughter in 4 years so you can imagine how he’s like with his more distant family…

Additionally half-foots and Chil are very coded to be from an impoverished opressed working class people. So that’s the context.

I’ll say that I mentioned intergenerational trauma at the beginning, and I def think the distrust of elves is part of that, but here I want to focus on the interpersonal effects rather.

Copy pasting my masterpost thoughts overall: Chilchuck is hinted to have had a rather dysfunctional family himself (alcoholic father, distant siblings, etc). So he doesn’t really have the best model on how to raise someone and such. I imagine it was a sort of neglectful home situation, where the kids are encouraged to be independent. If they didn’t have to work or help around much, then a free range parenting sort of thing.

We do see how the family has full and warm feasts, where someone cleans his mouth with a rag, so it’s not like he didn’t have caring people or had a tragic childhood though! I don’t remember if it’s explicitely stated but he’s heavily implied to having grown up poor, as most half-foots, and I just think it’s the hardened hardworking family type of childhood where just like he does with others, they instilled somewhat harsh life lessons in him, which in turn encourages him to indulge in the simple pleasures of life like alcohol and sex, or at least women’s beauty and crass jokes. We do see he seems more optimistic when he’s younger in flashbacks, so a bunch of his harsh view on the world is still likely learned and earned rather than taught.

I still think he inherited many flawed views from how his father acted, like his attitude about excessive drinking not being a big deal, it being worth it. That work hard play hard, enjoy life die young mentality he has, shown mostly in the “alcohol” section of his Adventurer’s Bible profile, could very well be partly a result of the general poverty half-foot communities are that he grew in as well, like how he doesn’t hope for things to be as best as they could be and contends with good enough. As far as I remember, his mother is never mentioned, but I doubt it implies she was out of the picture. She was probably a regular sort of mother that took care of the home and was still around when his father died, not unlike how Chil’s wife was implied to be a housewife. It looks like there’s a good age gap between one sibling to the next, that could be interesting to speculate about too. Mostly though I think it’s big family because it’s just sorta what happens when you regularly have sex and you don’t have contraception, being poor often makes family planning harder for various reasons and leads to more children.

Alcoholism context rundown:

Good Chilchuck analysis baseline here. Alcohol seems to be his main stress reliever/coping mechanism, especially for how emotionally constipated he is, and his job is being stressed about his party’s safety. Then he also mentions as a changeling that having his senses dulled feels relaxing to him, further confirming alcohol, as a drug that dulls senses, is something that he likes for the intoxication aspect and feels it’s relaxing. Alcohol also acts as a hunger suppressant, so it for sure has played a role in his dieting and unhealthy eating/diet habits, especially since he shows the instinct to drink to soothe hunger, all of that about how going hungry for 3 days used to feel manageable. Chil dieting info compiled here.

Chilchuck is at his most effortlessly cheerful when drunk or drinking. Compilation of every time he was drunk here.

And to be clear, a cheerful drunk is still a drunk. He literally will drink anytime he gets the opportunity to even if he’s aware overdrinking leads to health problems and death. Like canonically. He does NOT see how drinking should be a problem and does not seek to show restraint with it.

Dad of the dad

Marcille and Chilchuck having a talk on how losing a dad be like "You lost your dad young too…? I know how it is, it must have hit you hard…" "No not really tbh. Do you want lasagna or chicken for dinner?" <- either genuinely doesn’t feel much about his dad’s death or has 10 layers of repression, idk which is worse

I think Chil not making a big deal out of his dad’s death, not having worries in following into his footsteps that way in the least, is super interesting.

As a buddy @saccharineomens puts it: " I kinda imagine chilchuck and his dad didn't have a bad relationship, but in general chilchuck is so blase about drinking (he sees it as a delightful time, a wonderful thing! he wouldn't mind dying doing something he loved!) that he's not very upset about his dad's passing? like "yeah, he died, but i was already an adult, he was an adult, he made his choices, i make my choices, it's cool" " And I’ll nitpick that we don’t know how old he was when his dad died, I always assumed it was pretty early since Chil left home when he got married, and like I’ve gone into he doesn’t seem to be the keep in touch type. It’s on the table though, and he could have learned about it through letter if nothing else and that contributes to the "meh" reaction.

And that is very Chilchuck, the whole "we made our choices, it is how it is, he died doing something he loved", and you can totally believe that that’s the crux of it, but I do think the nonchalance hints at the family overall being distant and not only the siblings, that there’s dysfunctional shenanigans going on in there more than just… Healthy coping and having moved on.

I wonder when Chil first drank… And I wonder how he came to realize he liked alcohol a lot. His father probably gave him sips… Or he stole them

No because, with how disaffected he is about his father and siblings I could definitely see him having started to kind of numb himself/dissociate with the help of alcohol in that home environment that felt so… Either devoid of feelings or too messy to get attached.

Because too… We saw him have a family/community feast of some sort presumably when he was a kid, in that chapter cover, so it’s not like there’s no warmth or sense of family at all, but then like… What went wrong? If as I theorize that girl with short black hair in that panel is his future wife, since she’s his childhood friend and all, what if his family/home life was always kind of cold and distant, even when gathered and cheery or despite those occasions? So then it’s like, at the family gatherings, she’s the most important person there to him, the one he actually connects to the most, the warmest presence he has…….. Someone he jokes around with that feels on the same speed as him, that doesn’t have the same connotations as everyone else present, a bit of a haven, someone different, a breath of fresh hair and a regained sense of childhood… Spitballing of course of course

I feel like they had a pretty big family and they were poor and such so there were always chores to be done etc, so their household might have operated like a mini busiess of sorts where everyone’s too busy, always has this and that to do and the mother asks them to go do tasks. I used to think it might be more of a neglect situation, where the kids are expected to provide for themselves and so cook their own meals and whatnot, both parents distant, but I don’t think so with the feast illustration. Chil at the beginning of canon used to see eating as a practical thing more than anything, you have to eat to live but don’t eat much or your weight will make your job more dangerous, might as well skip meals and have beer instead, etc etc. So the thought that he doesn’t know how to cook all that well despite this speculated background where he cooked for himself and keeps cooking minimalistic, since he does tell Senshi he taught him about cooking, is fair, but still… There could definitely be a situation where his older siblings were pushed into a parental role too, where they helped with the food and raising the younger siblings etc etc. As mentioned, the age gap between siblings may play into the dynamic as well. But on this front I have less ideas…

So yes my general take on Chil’s family is that everyone was too busy to emotionally connect as much as is normal, the parenting leaving things to be desired with alcoholism and emotional neglect.

Fathering

And I think that’s especially interesting considering he hasn’t been keeping in touch with his daughters either. It’s "they’re independent now" and that’s kinda it. His daughters haven’t sent him letters or visited him or tried to make him talk to their mom again. It does feel like with his own parents and siblings to me, where people are almost strangers, where relationships grow apart and everyone shrugs and goes ‘that’s how things are’. Is it that everyone including all his daughters gave up on trying to keep in touch, or is it that they all went "well divorced or not he’s absent, this is our normal tbh", and which is worse?

So yes, I think his relationship with his daughters is probably similar to his relationship with his parents, sort of hands off. Chil's dad was probably not a good dad but probably not quite a bad dad. A definitive He Was There, to quote another friend heh

Imo the thing with Chil is that he was pretty absent bc of work travels to dungeon dive, right. He’s working hard to provide for his family but in the process he’s not spending much time with them, slowly making a gap grow between him and them as they drift apart and change as people. He’s a career dad who never realized spending time with his family was more important and threw his pager into the ocean— But also here’s the thing!! You want to say being his family is more important, but money is arguably more important! They’re poor, they don’t have the privilege of free time as much. Sure he’s not there, but he is providing for them what they need to keep living and growing healthily. Similarly, you want to say Chil should stop doing harsh dieting for weight management, but, he has a point, maybe starving is still preferable than dying in traps. Of course the ideal would be to change jobs, but again, life is a struggle and that’s not always an option.

^ Truly the classic "if you don’t listen to me, your parent, a cryptid is gonna kidnap you!" international experience………

He is so so so the "What? My way of parenting is kinda bad? But my father raised me like that, and look how great I turned out!" <- emotionally dysfunctional…….. "Pshhh what do you mean having an alcoholic parent negatively affects you? My father was an alcoholic too and look at me" 🤡

All of it was behavior normalized to him. And listen, I’m saying this but not as like, shirking of his part in it. This isn’t a teen or young adult, he’s middle aged, he’s become the one giving and not receiving the generational trauma. He’s chosen to never think deeper on the topic.

And like, he himself is so indifferent to his father and what their relationship was like, of course he wouldn’t notice if a parenting choice wasn’t great for his daughters. He doesn’t have a relationship with his dad, he’s not (at least not consciously) traumatized by him, so from his perspective it’s mission success! He got raised decent enough 👍⭐️ Except he doesn’t realize that like, not particularly caring if he died is sign of a problem between them in itself… And this even as he remains somewhat of an important figure in his life, especially since that’s who he sees on the other side of the life river in the ghost chapter. It’s implicitly the biggest instance of loss through death Chilchuck has in his life I think.

But despite it all he obviously does love his family a lot, right. So I do believe that like, while he has imperfect standards when it comes to parenting he still tries to be better than his dad was, that even if it’s necessary that he has a lot of long work travels, he spends time with them. And there’s sort of this dissonance that he’s both "it doesn’t matter wether i’m here or not, they’ll live, they’re tough girls. Oh they didn’t like my scolding earlier? It’s just how kids are" dismissive and "I love them so much and I want them to have a good life. I want to do my best by them" devoted and so so caring. And like that’s why he works so damn hard, he does it for them, but also that’s why the girls grew up with an absentee father and aughhhh AUGHHHH the unsolvable dilemma of it all Chilchuck in Dunmeshi truly represents like, the harshness of reality & the world and how sometimes things will just suck no matter what, and then of course balancing that with Marcille in their shared arc where she tacks on "And despite that there is beauty everywhere even in the small and menial things, despite that your flawed relationships and dreams are still worth fighting for" ie giving reconciling with his wife a shot, etc.

All that said I think the very strict "you’re gonna grow up to have a stable job by god, young miss" attitude, those strong work ethics he highly values and focuses on and no doubt tried to instill in is own kids, is something he somewhat inherited from his own upbringing and parents.

In my masterpost bit on his parenting, I said I don’t think he’d do any kind of corporeal punishment, but. I do wonder about spanking aftee all. It can be so so easy to rationalize it… Sigh

Daughter pov

Again, my general interpretations for the daughters are written in my masterpost. I think Patti knows her father the least and is the one least worried about jobs and stability and least settled down as a result. Flertom is the more social one who I imagine tended to be the one worried about her parents’ couple and their emotions the most. And Meijack… Ohh Meijack.

When your father tried his best to provide for you but he worked all the time and even when he was home he was either tired or stressed and he’s always liked to get drunk to relax and cheer up. When you know he values work ethics and respectability so you grew up to be capable and quiet. And when he says you’re like him you’re sort of puzzled, does he really know you so little, or does he know himself so little? But you like the feeling of your father ruffling your hair so you accept it and still you stand next to your mother just as quiet and just as stoic during family gatherings. He leaves again and again and when your mother leaves him nothing changes, really. You wonder if it’s more telling that you know him better than he seems to himself or that you don’t know him as much as you wish you did, or that you don’t think about him all that much these days. Out of sight out of mind

Thinking of those posts about how kids never forget and during the "draw your family!" things at school, some of the kids draw their working parents seperate from the rest of them...

Absent father and when he’s at home you get the crumbs of him that you get and you’re grateful for it and that’s that <333

She doesn’t know how much he loves them bc he hasn’t showed them in a long time </3

The horror of drunk Chil in my fics is often about what in this state he can’t do rather than what he could do, how someone who’s as proud of his skills and work ethics as he is has truly changed, not comprehending how he could become so sloppy or how he could allow himself to get like this, marred the values he preaches above all else. It’s in the way that he fumbles with doorknobs, that he could never lockpick a door if you were to lock it, and it both being your salvation and bringing you extreme distress at the thought of it all. His footsteps usually featherlight now sound heavy as stone, like a troll’s.

You know the thing that gets me so bad with alcoholism angst is when people describe the drunk person as a stranger. Often making a metaphor that they’re monsters, have some monster they shapeshift into uncontrollably once in a while, as a way to split the unreconciliable halves of the person sober and drunk in your vision of them……. It gets me soooo bad Little Puckpatti growing up on tales of trolls kidnapping disobedient kids and replacing them with doubles so no one even knows they’re gone… Coming face to face with a drunk Chilchuck that roams the halls of the house with heavy steps in the night, because she wanted to go drink a glass of water, too thirsty to sleep………..

And this is where I reveal that I wrote a fic about just that!! Trolls that thump and tiptoe through the night Mei @ Chil, You made me of stone and still every day you wear me down and chip away at me bit by bit

In the end notes I describe my takes and interpretations: With Mei I tried to give the sense of a kid who sacrifices some parts of childhood to feel closer to her parent, like not playing games to spend more time with him no matter how empty, or wanting to be worthy in his eyes. With Fler, since she was the one in canon to take in their mother and write Chil a letter explaining the situation, I feel like she’s always been the one most involved and aware of the problems in their family. The one most there to emotionally support or to understand what the vibes in a room meant. Puckpatti I think knows her father the least, since with time I think Chilchuck was more and more away from work and more and more cynical like the flashbacks of younger him dungeon diving. I think because of her not minding unstable odd jobs that she’s the most passive, that she’s the most go with the flow. I do also love when Mei is the one most aware of her parents’ flaws and most critical as the eldest, but not in this fic. Meijack grows up to never touch a drop of alcohol, what people joke is the one difference between her and her father. Flertom drinks, too much sometimes, but she considers drinking should be a social activity rather than a habit. Puckpatti only drinks on special occasions when she has the chance.

They already don’t have that much time together because of his work, I wonder how big of a percentage the amount of memories the daughters have of him are when he’s not himself truly… How they kinda reconcile it all. It’s their normal.

And the thing that’s gutting too, is that Chil always looks so so much more open, relaxed, cheerful and happier when drunk than he usually is. He doesn't know how to get his defenses down without alcohol

"you're all that's good"

Because we do see how he truly used to not be so closed off and bitter. But distrust and fearing for betrayals from both coworkers and then his wife aka the person who’s supposed to be closest to him (he doesn’t even have close family besides his daughters. Does he even have close friends) turned him into what he is now. He was so cheerful!! Happy and trusting and optimistic.

He leaves and she left

God there’s the whole ‘wife leaving him’ trauma too is the thing… It had to have fucked him up so bad like no wonder he got paranoid and decided not to open up to ANYONE like. He never saw it coming is the scariest thing. He didn’t expect her to just up and leave. He didn’t see the warning signs. He won’t know if it’s coming this time either.

….. But then also, why he didn’t reach out to her (besides hurt) was because it was a petty silence treatment, like "oh she left without saying a word? Fine well I won’t reach out to her either" <- man who is so not fine and collected about it. It’s been FOUR YEARSSSSSSS I wonder if he always was like… "This week she’s gonna send a letter. … Ok fine, this month she’s gonna crack. … Within the year she’ll come crawling back." and it’s a bit why it was allowed to go on for this long unchecked like… Why he still considers her his wife even though functionally she’s more of an ex by that point after 4 years.

I can never stop thinking about him and his wife they’re fucking crazyyy. Him not reaching out to her started as a silent treatment from frustration. She never reached out to him either, she just up and left, didn’t even leave or send one last letter she’s just gone and has left this all behind, the house and everything in it. It’s been 4 years but he still considers her his wife and considers themselves only "estranged", "due to circumstances we haven’t seen each other in years". His face in the panel he said this is interesting too, trying to be casual but defensive and exasperated, already dreading the judgement and questions. He moved out of his house to rent a place in Kahka Brud instead. How much of him not reaching out was avoidance… Guilt, frustration, sadness, confusion, just procrastinating and dread and fear of a rejection more concrete, or something else… Maybe realizing he doesn’t miss her as much as he should, not enough to chase after her or try to get her back, just resigning himself to it… Is he a bad husband, is he a bad person? Should they reconcile?

Not seeing it coming… It’s half trust, that this person who’s so dear to you could never just up and leave and hurt you like that, half entitlement, thinking that she would never think of leaving, and third it’s blinding himself to the warning signs, not wanting to believe or acknowledge them. Because like, there WERE some, he said she "suddenly fell into a bad mood on the way back [from the outing]" and I don’t think he’s too dumb to be aware that something was off, he literally just dismissed it and then went surprised pikachu face when it turned out things were indeed off.

Part of it is definitely, how do you even react if your wife walks out on you without warning. If it happened to me I think that I wouldn’t reach out for a while either, wait for them to reach out to me first, give them space. As I put it in one of my marchil wips, "I respect your right to be rid of me too much to try and shackle you to me if you want to leave". Inaction is easier than admitting he’s scared to check and find out that the worst case scenario is true. It’s been years and he still hasn’t worked it out why she left. Do you think that’s on purpose. That he doesnt want to know for sure. It’s so so so scary to try and do anything about it

He said he didn’t reach out right away when she left because he was petty and wanted to give her the silence treatment back. Ok but is it that he blames her for their marriage falling apart or does he blame himself and he’s just misdirecting the conflicted feelings? Did he not reach out because a part of him was too scared to know why she left or if she would refuse to come back? Did he just think that she’d come back on her own, and things would get fixed while still staying unsaid and unconfronted like they always have, the first month, then the next and the next, until it was a year in and it sunk in that oh, maybe she wasn’t coming back?

He seems genuine here when he says that he was angry about it and gave her the silent treatment, but it is an habit of his to lie to make himself look worse instead of showing vulnerability, so who knows.

He is so so scared of being affected by relationships. Same thing with his compulsive habit to disguise his worry for anger. It’s why he doesn’t want people to have expectations of him, "I’m a coward I’m selfish", because then they can’t be disappointed, they can’t be surprised if he bites, they can’t leave when you lose what they’ve been staying for.

He has avoidant tendencies too. Every time there’s an interpersonal issue he just accepts it’s out of his control immediately. He’s passive when it comes to relationship problems, just like with coworkers, relationships are a ticking time bomb to him, and he just wants to be left out of it and come out unscathed. It comes back to his pessimism. He doesn’t think that like, things could be better. According to him life is tough and cruel, you accept your lot in life and make the best out of it and that’s it. If people are scummy you don’t whine about how unfair it is, you close yourself off and work to not be taken advantage of again and adapt. So then with his wife, when Marcille is like "Have you tried… Talking?" it’s such a crazy idea that it might work at all, that he could have the power to fix things… And that’s why it’s such a big deal when he goes "Alright I’ll try… I don’t know if it’ll go as well as in the stories, but I’ll try". That CRUMB of allowing himself to be hopeful is so huge

Honestly for the longest time I misread this bit, I thought she left in the night like how Marcille framed it, but no she left after he left for work. She left after he left again.

The way it’s told, it really sounds like Chilchuck just came home from work, stayed probably a couple of days in which they went to that outing together, then left for work again right away/soon after and it’s like. Was that outing the most special thing you guys did together. You came home from like a month of work, you had one outing where she ended up having a bad time, y’all didn’t talk about it further and then you left for another couple of weeks. Are you kidding me

Your married life is waiting for your husband to come home, spending mediocre time together, being shut down when you voice discontentment, and things being left unaddressed before he leaves again.

She left when he was gone for work, but did she leave the day of, or did she flip flop on it and took a while before working up the strength to leave? Was she waiting to see if he’d say anything before leaving and when he didn’t that was the last straw?

Chilchuck trying to prove a point that half-foots can make it out there, trying to rely more on himself because that’s the only person he can trust. His wife feeling like he's leaving her behind (because he does. over and over and over and over.) This guy just keeps throwing himself into work because he thinks it's what's best for everyone. Hey sir neglecting emotional needs can be kinda detrimental to everyone involved, I think you might wanna know that ^ quotes courtesy of @soappox

And to come back to alcoholism for a bit, alcoholism is alcoholism, and someone asked why I thought that a Chilchuck with depression would drink and cope through alcohol, since drinking seems to be something cheerful to him. It does puzzle me a bit but it’s worth going over, so… I don’t think him using drinking as a coping mechanism is far fetched at all. Cheerful drunks that are alcoholic still can absolutely use alcohol in ways like that. If something makes you happier, or even just more numb which translates to you feeling more free etc etc, then I definitely think it tracks that he’d keep drinking. Like personally I do think he’d drink a lot after his wife left him, and in rough patches like that. Depression -> not wanting to have to think, the days are blurring together and you either don’t want to be conscious or you want to feel something etc etc -> drinking for the alcohol. Alcoholics tend to be, well, dependent on alcohol. If something bad happens etc they’re usually more likely to go harder on it rather than stop. We can debate on when and why Chilchuck first started to drink but it’s straight up his favorite food now and it’s deeply ingrained in his life, in his favorite outings and activities and priorities and moods and meals. A CHEERFUL DRUNK IS STILL A DRUNK!!! They drink to get happy not drink because they are happy, though obviously the two can have overlap.

Chil represses sooo much. His solution to interpersonal conflict and feelings is just don’t think about it and dull your feelings & senses to everything ✨ I love him. I need to kill him with hammers Like the other day I was thinking about an AU where he might have ran away from his neglectful home or something, but then I remembered he deals with everything including his family by dulling his feelings and senses to things 🫠 He wouldn’t leave

I’d say he doesn’t look troubled by loss through death, moreso loss through mistakes. His nightmare is his daughters dying yes, but moreso them being killed, there’s an axe in the wall etc, it’s about having failed to protect them.

If he can’t fuck something up or if he’s already fucked it up there’s this pacifying sense that he can’t have the rug pulled from under him, because that’s what having connections is, having a wife isn’t an insurance it’s a rug waiting to be pulled. And his brand is sort of Flawed Mr Mistakes Man so he’s kinda been having to cope lol. I do think he throws himself into workaholism, because it’s sort of the only way to live he knows, making yourself capable and useful and spending his days working like that, less time to think, too tired to think. Senses dulled, senses that are usually too sharp, cutting with clarity that he prefers ignoring and avoiding. Work is something he doesn’t have to feel through, something that gives him pride and self-esteem, something through all the danger and life or death risk feels safer, emotionally. No one taught him how to deal with things another way, it’s always been suck it up and work.

Conclusion

Stop smoking we love you and we don’t want you to die

No drinking will not externalize your feelings no it won’t vent them out well please Chilchuck ple-ea-ease…….

</3 They should invent an alcoholism that doesn’t make you dysfunctional and hard to be around

^ Drunk, by The Living Tombstone

I’ve been thinking about enneagrams and Chil is 6w7 highkey. Becomes 3 when stressed, a little 8 but it’s more that he wants security so much that he becomes paranoid rather than having the core of an 8 y’know. I haven’t dug into it for quotes yet but this paper goes hard if you’re curious.

Dropping my relevant Spotify playlists here bc why not: Chilchuck & his wife, marchil angst

#I’m allergic to making short casual speculation posts apparently #Dungeon meshi #chilchuck tims #chilchuck’s family #Chilchuck’s wife #theories #meta #analysis #It was mother’s day when I decided to gather my old discord message and work on posting this so. Not fixing that intro #I’m always too late </3 #Marcille singing A Girl Worth Fighting For @ Chilchuck #Spoilers #i lost half of this post TWICE. This is my Joker arc #Hopefully i can finish my web weaving about this today #Chilchuck is so cool I wish dads were real #Chilchuck “my family doesn’t need me” tims #This almost killed me it’s not even the topic it’s bc tumblr wanted me dead. This silly post. It was supposed to be CASUAL and SHORT #Analysis #i just ended up talking about chil a lot again. Give me excuses to talk about him more #Character analysis #meijack #Puckpatti #flertom #fanfic #Fumi rambles

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quinnysnursery · 1 day

Note

Can you do little!matt headcannons?

[🩹] little!matt sturniolo headcannons

paring : little!matt x cg!gn!reader

divider credit : @agsthv

a/n : there's this thing called stardew valley and me and my girls? well....we've gone pro. (lower case intended !)

🩹 slightly younger age-range. i’d say maaaybe 2-4?

🫧 started regressing after his therapist recommended it

🦈 thought it was silly at first, but decided to keep trying it

🩹 eventually he figured out what worked for him

🫧 can’t go a week without regressing now !

🦈 while little!johnnie is mostly picky, matt more-so has a phobia of certain/new foods

🩹 takes a LOT of hand-holding and gentle affirmations for him to try something new

🫧 “mama/dada/baba…” “i’m here angel, just a small bite…okay?”

🦈 of course, you would never force him to

try a food he didn’t want too !!

🩹 LOVES his stuffies.

🫧 god forbid one falls off the bed, because poor thing will start crying

🦈 was extremely iffy about paci’s at first,

🩹 still gets nervous about using them casually but after a long week?

🫧 get this man a juice box and his PACI.

🦈 bottles though?

🩹 matt WAS anxious at first to try a bottle but when you offered holding him while he drank?

🫧 there was no stopping him

🦈 absolutely lives and breathes for his bottle

🩹 just imagine little!matt curled up in your lap, head against your chest as you run your fingers through his hair, slowly falling asleep with a bottle :( /pos

🫧 “mama/dada/baba…hold?” “okay baby, c’mere.”

🦈 little!matt holding onto his cg’s shirt to nap ☹️🫶

🩹 i honestly don’t see little!matt being a fussy little

🫧 maybe only acting out when tired or overstimulated

🦈 “no! ‘m don’t want you!” “please darling? what about a bottle?” “…” *que matt crawling onto your lap and saying sorry five minutes later*

🩹 definitely gets shy talking about his age regression when OUTSIDE of littlespace

🫧 “matt! do you think you’d like this toy?” “🍅 um..yeah…🍅”

🦈 if cg!matt is the gentlest, little!matt is the sweetest <3

#agere #fandom agere #sfw agere #age regression #agere community #matt sturniolo #agere blog #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 17 hours

Text

I hate you, too

Summary: Ruby is your acting rival as well as your sworn enemy. When you’re cast in the same movie, you struggle with the fight choreography, an area which your co-star excels at. What will you do when you have no choice but to swallow your pride and ask her for extra help?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, some adult humor, kissing, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, walked in on while changing, non-sexual knife play, clumsy!reader, publicity tweets, there was only One Trailer

Word Count: 6.6k (told you it’s a slow burn)

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction, RPF Guidelines still stand. Morally, I refuse to write smut for Ruby Cruz. That being said, I miss writing smut!! Dying to write some Kit Tanthalos smut after this, if anyone has a request feel free to send it in. That being said, Ruby is always super fun to write for, and I hope y’all enjoy! :)

———

If you never saw Ruby Cruz again, it would be too soon.

You first encountered her shortly after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting. During a meeting with your agent to discuss a contract, she entered unannounced, as if the office belonged to her.

“Hey Estelle, I’m here to pick up the ‘Mare of Easttown’ audition sides,” she stated, barely glancing in your direction.

Estelle handed her a stack of papers before introducing you. “This is Ruby Cruz, one of my regular clients. You two will likely be seeing a lot of each other.”

Ruby finally turned toward you, assessing you with her bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She gave you a curt smile, and offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Estelle’s the best; you’re gonna love her.”

You shook her hand as Estelle chuckled at the flattery, shaking her head and modestly dismissing it.

“Ruby has an audition next week for that ‘Mare of Easttown’ show… which reminds me! I think you could also be a good fit for that. We can discuss more later, but for now, let me at least get you the audition sides.”

Estelle began to gather nearby papers into a stack, stapling the corner before handing them to you. Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of acting in a show as notable as ‘Mare of Easttown.’

Ruby hummed, clucking her tongue as you flipped through the stack of papers. Glancing up at her from your seat, you could have sworn you saw her eyes squint, almost as if she now saw you as nothing more than competition.

“In that case, hope you break a leg.”

With a wave goodbye to Estelle, she left the office. You couldn’t place it at the time, but something about her tone felt… off.

The audition came and went, and it was just your luck that Ruby ended up landing the role. Of course, it became her breakout role, one that juiced up her resume and propelled her career.

Initially, it didn’t bother you that much; after all it was just one audition. However, given that you were both conventionally attractive actresses in the same age range, Estelle frequently recommended you for the same roles. You began to see her face at every single audition, and frankly, you were sick of it.

That’s not to say you lost every role to Ruby Cruz; sure she was your competition, but you both had your share of the limelight. She was Hazel Callahan in “Bottoms,” and you were Harper McCallington in “Out & Uncool.” While she was busy filming for “Willow” as Princess Kit Tanthalos, you starred as Empress Kian Thorne in a limited series entitled “Cottonwood.”

You were a tad jealous that Ruby landed a continuing series while yours was limited, so when you found out about “Willow” being abruptly canceled after one season, you couldn’t help but revel in the schadenfreude.

Despite your individual successes, you harbored a deep dislike for Ruby. Yes, she was pretty, with pale blue eyes and dark hair that offset her ivory skin, but watching her stride into every audition wearing that all-too-familiar smug smile only fueled your resentment and made your blood boil.

Several months after moving to LA, one particular audition day commenced with a morning from hell. You woke up groggy with your hair in a rats nest, and spent the majority of the morning battling with the bathroom mirror in an attempt to render yourself presentable. Once you could actually run a comb through it, a quick glance at a clock revealed you were running late. Hastily, you grabbed your resume, poured some of your roommates' leftover coffee into a travel mug, and dashed out the door in a race against time.

Curses flew out of your mouth while you sat in the infamous LA traffic, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel while your eyes darted towards the clock.

Arriving at the audition site, you parked haphazardly and rushed to the entrance, coffee sloshing against your mug with every step. Pushing open the doors, you immediately caught sight of the very person you knew you would see but secretly wished you wouldn’t.

There was Ruby, sitting in the waiting room, too focused on studying her audition material to even notice you had walked in. She wore a white blouse with floral patterns, jeans, and white converse—an undoubtedly effortless outfit that looked so good on her, it genuinely annoyed you.

Shaking your head, you tried to push aside any thoughts of Ruby and focus on the audition. As you stepped towards the sign-in table, your notorious clumsiness struck as you mis-stepped and tripped over your own foot. Fortunately, you managed to catch yourself before face-planting, but you lost control of your mug, ending up spilling coffee all over your sworn enemy.

Ruby stood up in shock, the lukewarm liquid staining her white blouse and smudging the ink on her papers. She lifted her head, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in shock. “Shit, Ruby, I’m so…”

“You did that on purpose!”

The brewing apology halted at her accusation. Indignation swelled within you, and the urge to defend yourself took over.

“Excuse me? It was an accident! Jesus!”

“You don’t think I know you don’t like me?” She spat back. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

By now, everyone else in the waiting room was watching the two of you, while the stage manager at the sign-in table desperately tried to de-escalate the situation.

You felt your face flush at the unwanted attention as you attempted to lower your voice. “Ruby, I may not be your biggest fan, but I would never do something like that on purpose.”

“Oh please, I know your type. You would do anything to land a role, even if it’s underhanded!”

“For fucks sake, Ruby!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated at this conversation. “I land roles just fine on my own. Not everything is about you!”

“You’re seriously standing here telling me that ‘not everything is about me’ when you’re the one who ruined my blouse right before an audition?!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

You and Ruby turned your heads toward the unidentified voice to see what appeared to be the director of the project standing in the doorway. He peered down at the two of you with an icy glare, while the stage manager stood next to him with her arms crossed.

A gulp involuntarily forced its way down your throat. You looked over at Ruby, who stood frozen with all the color seemingly drained from her face. Both of you waited with baited breath for the director's next move as his nostrils flared.

“Both of you. Out. Now.”

“There’s good news, and bad news.”

You and Ruby stared at Estelle from across her desk, shame and embarrassment radiating from the both of you. Last week's altercation at the audition made headlines on LA Twitter news, prompting her to call an emergency meeting to discuss next steps.

“You already know the bad news,” Estelle sighed. “Word got out about your little ‘stunt.’ As of right now, neither of you have great reputations in the Hollywood eye.”

Estelle turned to look directly at you, making you shrink in your seat. “Not many people want to work with an actor who would sabotage another actor’s audition to get a leg-up.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but immediately closed it upon seeing the look on Estelle’s face. She looked away from you, focusing her attention on Ruby next.

“And no one wants to work with a hothead who causes scenes and goes on public cursing sprees.”

Ruby squirmed under Estelle’s scrutiny, looking down at her lap to avoid eye contact.

Estelle leaned back in her chair, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “Fortunately, there is some good news.”

Your ears perked up at this, curious as to what kind of good would come out of this kind of publicity. Glancing over at Ruby, you noticed she raised her gaze while still keeping her head lowered. Estelle continued.

“Another director caught wind of the situation and contacted me immediately. Apparently, he’s been toying with this idea for a movie about two rival mafia bosses who go undercover as high school cheerleaders. He is adamant that the two of you play the leading roles.”

Shock painted your features as you attempted to process what Estelle just told you. You looked over at Ruby, who seemed just as bewildered as you.

“So, this director wants to work with two people who can’t stand each other?” She inquired.

Estelle shrugged. “I’ve been told he’s very… method. Authenticity is everything to him, no matter what the consequences. Still, people say to trust his process because he’s extremely brilliant.”

She pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to the both of you, his name in thick black font jumping out from the white background.

Calvin Cunningham. Film Director.

Calvin Cunningham turned out to be quite the character.

He was brutally honest, always saying exactly what he thought of something. He engaged with the cast and crew as if they were his best friends, but if something wasn’t up to his standards, he never hesitated to voice his dissatisfaction.

His methods were eccentric and unusual, with an unwavering commitment to authenticity. They were unorthodox, but if they proved to be effective, he couldn’t care less about the cost.

On the first day of shooting, after being given your trailer assignment, you were about to go inside when you saw something that made you stop dead in your tracks. There, hanging on the back of the trailer door, was a big gold star with two names engraved into it.

Yours… and Ruby’s.

Outraged, you turned and marched towards Calvin, only to find him already in conversation with a head of loathsome brunette locks.

“This has to be some mistake,” cried Ruby. “I can’t share a trailer with her!”

“Ditto.” You piped up, moving to stand next to your rival.

Calvin shook his head. “No mistake. You guys can’t stand each other, and I want to maintain that energy throughout filming. I figured some forced proximity could help to fuel that fire.”

“Please, Calvin. I will literally share with anyone else,” you pleaded, words falling on deaf ears as Calvin simply turned and walked away from the two of you.

Ruby turned to glare at you with shrunken pupils, and you reciprocated with a side-eye right back. As you both began your way over to your shared trailer, you couldn’t help but acknowledge: this might be the first time you and Ruby actually agreed on something.

Filming was going well, all things considered. You and Ruby spent your days on set, hashing out all your hatred towards each other in front of the camera, and then pretty much ignored each other otherwise.

Changing could be slightly awkward, given the shared trailer, but you and Ruby had an unspoken agreement to keep to yourselves. Nevertheless, the trailer was a tight space, allowing you to see everything within your peripheral vision. Despite your disdain for Ruby, you couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her tapered waist and how it contrasted against her toned stomach. Even you could appreciate how her hair became disheveled every time she lifted a clothing item over her head, prompting her to shake it out until her short tresses tumbled over her shoulder.

You chalked it up to vanity, but sometimes you swore you caught her checking you out from the corner of her eye, too.

One day, while checking your schedule for the upcoming week, you noticed a choreography rehearsal planned for the big knife fight scene towards the end of the movie. Dread immediately consumed you, settling in your stomach like a boulder reaching the bottom of a hill.

It wasn’t because you were worried about getting into a knife fight with Ruby; you knew the weapons were harmless props and posed no threat to your safety. You dreaded any kind of choreography rehearsal, as you were notoriously an uncoordinated klutz. It was like you bore a curse of delayed reaction times and two left feet—a burden that weighed on your shoulders like an anchor.

On the day of the rehearsal, you walked into the stunt room to see Ruby already there, stretching in yoga pants and a crop top that hung just below her ribcage. Calvin stood in the corner conversing with the choreographer, Lucas: an effeminate man with a muscular build that offset his short stature.

Minutes after you started stretching, Lucas blew his whistle, calling you and Ruby over to the center of the room.

“Hey guys! Hope you’re as excited as I am to do some fight choreography.” He chirped, flashing a toothy grin.

While Lucas spoke, your attention shifted to Ruby. She stood confidently, her hands resting on her hips as she listened for instructions. You rolled your eyes. Of course she was confident, she had plenty of combat training during “Willow,” and even more during “Bottoms.”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was one area where Ruby outshone you.

“In this scene,” Lucas explained, handing each of you a prop knife labeled with your characters names. “Quinn and Gia both realize they’re from rival mafia families, and draw their weapons at the regional cheer competition.”

You turned the knife over in your hand, running your thumb over the ��Quinn” sticker on the handle. “Is this… a real knife?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but it’s been dulled for your safety. Don’t worry.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing your lack of coordination posed less of a threat now.

Lucas continued. “For the first part, Quinn, advance towards Gia with the knife raised, like you want to slit her throat. Gia, sidestep and dodge her attack.”

You positioned your knife and lunged at Ruby, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding after she successfully avoided the blade.

Lucas nodded in approval. “Great! Now Gia, advance towards Quinn with your weapon, and she’ll block and engage.”

Ruby lunged at you, but when you tried to block her attack, the knife slipped from your grip and fell from your hand. Your face flushed as you stared at the blade, now lying on the plush mat.

“What was that?” Calvin interrupted, still watching from the corner of the room.

Lucas shot him a sheepish grin. “It’s ok, Calvin. It’s just the first rehearsal.”

Calvin grumbled incoherently as you bent down to pick up your knife. You noticed Ruby’s lips curl into a subtle smirk at your mishap, provoking an eye-roll from you.

“Let’s try that again,” Lucas stated. “This time, Gia, why don’t you try advancing a little slower?”

Ruby nodded, and moved towards you seemingly in slow-motion. This time, you managed the block successfully and engaged your weapons without issue.

Lucas beamed in approval. “Great! Let’s move on.”

He went on with instructions, leading you through the engagement of your weapons. Despite the slow pace, you repeatedly made a fool of yourself throughout the entire rehearsal. Sweaty palms hindered your grip on the knife, and you even managed to confuse your left from your right. Calvin stood fuming in the corner, while Ruby’s initially smug demeanor gradually turned into one of annoyance.

“Alright,” Lucas started, wiping his brow and forcing a tight smile. “For this last part, Gia, focus on disarming your opponent, and then tackle her. Quinn, this should be pretty easy. All you have to do is keep yourself open and fall.”

You gulped and assumed the ‘ready’ position, locking eyes with Ruby. She advanced, carefully redirecting your blade before grabbing your shoulders to push you onto your back. Unfortunately, as you were going down, a misstep caused you to lose your footing. Your arms flailed out of instinct, and in the search for stability, you inadvertently dragged the blade across Ruby’s cheek, leaving a bright red cut in its wake.

Startled, she hissed and dropped you onto the mat, hands moving to cradle her injured cheek. “Ouch! What the hell?!”

Calvin and Lucas rushed to Ruby’s side while you stared at your freshly-bloodied knife and tried to process what had just happened. “I thought you said they were dulled!”

“Well yeah, but they’re still real knives!” Lucas exclaimed, moving Ruby’s hand to see the cut.

A stream of apologies flew from your mouth immediately, but Ruby only responded with an icy glare and Calvin mumbled something about the makeup artist before storming out of the room. A lump rose to your throat as you blinked back tears, humiliated and filled with guilt. Once again, your clumsiness managed to ruin things for the people around you.

As you got up to leave the room, you looked back and met Ruby’s gaze. This time, instead of annoyance or anger, her face held only a look of pity as she watched you walk away.

At the end of the day, after you and Ruby were no longer needed on set, you found yourself standing outside your shared trailer, hands wringing in anticipation for what you were about to do.

Despite your best efforts, you knew your struggle to grasp the fight choreography was impeding production. Ruby, on the other hand, excelled at stage combat. You needed the extra practice, and Lucas had already gone home. After several hours of contemplation, you resolved to set aside your pride and seek help from your sworn enemy.

With a deep breath, you entered the trailer. Ruby was already inside, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly in the middle of changing. You felt your cheeks flush as she spun around, revealing a neon green band-aid on her right cheek.

“Ever heard of knocking?” She spat, covering herself defensively.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s my trailer too!”

She scoffed, turning around to finish putting her shirt on. You sighed, knowing the odds were already not in your favor.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you began, prompting her to look back at you, puzzled. “Not about the trailer, but about the knife, and the coffee, and just… everything. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m not, I’m just really accident-prone, and for that I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded, silently accepting your apology. You continued, avoiding eye contact for what you were about to ask.

“Listen… I need your help.”

Your words took her by surprise. “With what?”

“Fight choreography,” you pressed. “I know we don’t really get along, and I wouldn’t ask if I had literally any other option, but you’re incredible at stage combat. Please, I could really use the practice.

“No argument there,” she snarled. “But why should I help you?”

“Because we’re co-stars, if I look good, you look good. Besides, do you really want to risk another one of those?” You gestured to the band-aid on her cheek.

Ruby touched the bandaged wound, wincing from the pain.

Defeated, she groaned. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only on two conditions.”

She stepped closer until she was inches from your face, close enough that her warm breath grazed your skin. You felt the sharp jab of her finger in your chest as she locked eyes with you.

“First, during training, you do everything I say, exactly as I say it. And second…” she moved back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “…you owe me a favor.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something,” she replied. “As of right now, we have a fight to train for.”

You followed her to the stunt room, now fully unoccupied as most of the crew had gone home. Ruby switched on the lights and made her way to the props table while you took your spot on one of the mats.

“Hmm,” she scrunched up her nose as she picked up the knives you had used to train earlier. “I really don’t trust you with a weapon right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied, pleasantly surprised at the lack of offense.

Ruby moved around the room in search of a safer substitute. She ended up at a supply cabinet, and sifted through it until she proudly held up a miniature pool noodle.

“Noodles!” She announced, grabbing one and handing you another.

“Perfect,” you exhaled, relieved.

Ruby assumed the ‘ready’ position across from you while you mirrored her stance, gripping the pool noodle as if it were your knife.

“Alright,” she started. “Why don’t we skip the exposition, since there’s no issues there. Let’s jump to the weapon engagement.”

You stepped forward, engaging with Ruby’s noodle. She nodded in approval before continuing the choreography.

“Left, right, no… right. Wait… do you not know your left from your right?”

Embarrassed, you dropped your gaze to the mat. “I do… I just… have to stop and think about it sometimes…”

Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I am totally going to give you shit about that later, but for now, let’s just work on muscle memory.”

She moved behind you, reaching around to take hold of your wrists before leaning into whisper. “Is this ok?”

A shudder traveled down your spine as her breath tickled your ear, a subtle expression you prayed she didn’t notice. “Y-yeah… you’re good.”

The way her fingertips brushed so gently against your skin felt like a million tiny shocks of electricity, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she guided your dominant hand through the movements. “Over, under, around and right.”

She repeated the sequence once more before letting go of you, stepping back to observe. “Show it to me.”

You demonstrated flawlessly, earning a beam of approval.

“Good. Let’s move on.”

From there, Ruby continued to guide you through the combat sequence in its entirety, stopping repeatedly to work out the kinks and offer helpful tips. She taught you where to hold your body weight so you didn’t stumble, and even showed you how to look like you fell on purpose, if necessary. As much as you hated the girl, you had to admit, she was a pretty good teacher.

Eventually, after hours of training, you reached the last step of the routine. Both of you were drenched in sweat and panting hard, but determined to make it to the end.

“Now…” Ruby rested her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Last but not least: the fall. So to start, I push down on your shoulders…”

She placed her hands near your collarbone and gently pushed, causing your arms to flail and smack her with the pool noodle. Immediately letting go of you, she took a step back with her hands up. You froze, expecting her to yell at you, but to your surprise she threw her head back in laughter.

“And that…” she pointed to the band-aid on her cheek “…is how this happened.”

You forced a nervous giggle in response as you stared at her hysterical disposition. Her laugh was crisp, almost melodic, like windchimes in a summer breeze. You weren’t quite sure what she found so funny; perhaps she was so tired from the long rehearsal, she collapsed into a state of hysteria.

Ruby calmed down after a minute or two, wiping away a tear as her breathing subsided. “So, I’m guessing you don’t like having your shoulders touched?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I guess it just feels constricting to have someone pushing me while I’m trying to fall safely.”

She clicked her tongue, seemingly deep in thought. “Hmm… why don’t we modify it a little bit? I could push you by your hips, let you fall, and then pin you down.”

“Can we do that?” You asked, concerned about getting into trouble again.

“Yeah, it’s not a huge change. I’m sure Lucas won’t mind. Besides, actor safety is always number one priority… and that includes my own.” She gestured to her cheek again with a lopsided smirk, prompting you to grimace apologetically.

You centered your body weight as she approached you, grasping your sides before letting her fingers wrap around your hip bones. She met your eyes, searching for approval.

“Better?” She asked.

Your voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper. “Yeah. Much better.”

“The most important thing,” she explained, “is to keep your body open.”

She moved her hands from your hips up to your arms, positioning them until they were spread out on each side, as if you were preparing for a big hug.

“When I disarm you, move your arms to the side like this. That way, you’ll have more control over a fall, and I’ll have less chance of getting cut.”

You nodded in understanding as she took a step back, preparing for the attack.

“Slow motion, ok? No rush.”

She carefully walked towards you and grabbed your hips, pushing with gentle pressure. Keeping your body open, you fell safely to the mat, back flat on the floor and arms spread out to your sides.

Ruby stood over you wearing a look of pride and satisfaction before offering out her hand to help you up from the mat.

“Wow,” she exclaimed with a breathless chuckle. “I’m a really great teacher.”

You rolled your eyes at her familiar cocky attitude. “Mhm… so, is that it?”

“Not yet. One more time, from the top. Let’s put it all together.”

“Full speed?” You asked, getting into position.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, breathing heavily as she moved to stand across from you. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

On her count, you lunged at her with your noodle before she sidestepped and dodged the attack. She reciprocated with an advance of her own, prompting you to block it and successfully engage your props.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she called out. “Over, under, around and right.”

The two of you continued sparring, each movement now pristine and polished. Droplets of sweat scattered from your skin as your props flew at lightning speed, every advance met with a clean block or countered with the appropriate attack. It was like your bodies were in perfect sync, months of built up tension finally surfacing to glide seamlessly through combat.

As you reached the end of the routine, Ruby expelled your weapon, disarming you and prompting your arms to extend. She seized your hips, fingertips pressing into your plush sides, and pushed until you could fall safely. Back now flat against the mat, she crawled on top of you, straddling your hips while planting her hands on either side of your head.

Time seemingly froze as Ruby hovered above you, keeping you trapped underneath her. Her face was close, so close that you were panting into each other's mouths. You stared up at her, noticing her bright blue eyes had turned significantly darker, and you swore, just for a split second, you saw them glance down at your lips.

“You…” she panted, breathless. “Y-you…”

Your heart pounded in your chest, flustered from the mix of adrenalines. “W-what about me?”

“You… you smell… so bad.”

With that, she immediately picked herself off of you, leaving you lying in a heap on the mat.

Annoyed and confused, you sat up to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she turned away from you and cracked her back. “We’ve been in here for awhile, and you really need a shower.”

“Look who’s talking,” you spat back. “Your hair is literally sticking to your forehead!”

She reached up, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face while mumbling something incoherent. It was like the air around you had suddenly turned thick with tension, neither of you daring to speak up for fear of saying what you were both thinking.

You decided to break the silence. “What time is it?”

Ruby glanced at her watch. “Almost 1am.”

“Shit,” you responded, not realizing it had gotten so late. “Guess we should…”

“Yeah,” she cut you off.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your things to leave for the evening. On the way out, neither of you offered a “bye” or “see you tomorrow,” but both of you turned to glance back when the other wasn’t looking.

For the remainder of the week, you and Ruby avoided each other like the plague, but not necessarily in the way you had previously. Before, there was always a palpable negative energy looming between the two of you, something Calvin could exploit for the cameras. Now, your scenes read awkwardly, both of you too preoccupied the events of the other night to properly engage in animosity.

This shift in dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew, especially Calvin, who never hesitated to hide his frustration. He desperately sought chemistry, and realized that forcing you to share a trailer wasn’t cutting it anymore. At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to reignite that spark.

One day, Calvin informed you that lunch would be served in the stunt room. It seemed odd, food being served in the industry equivalent to a trampoline park, but Calvin typically had some rationale behind his unconventional ideas, so you didn’t question it.

When lunch break rolled around, you walked into the stunt room to find it completely dark and empty, aside from Ruby, who stood in the center of the room looking confused. Upon seeing you, she froze.

“Uh… hey.” She muttered, pointing her gaze to the floor.

“Hey yourself,” you replied awkwardly. “Uhm, did Calvin tell you lunch was being served here?”

“Yeah, actually,” she furrowed her brow, glancing around the room. “But I haven’t seen any caterers or anything.”

“Weird, I wonder why he would-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a door slam, followed by the sharp click of a lock. You and Ruby stared at each other, panic-stricken on your faces before rushing to try the door handle.

“What the… hey! Let us out!” Ruby shouted, pounding on the door after the handle wouldn’t budge.

As you watched Ruby struggle against the door, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Calvin!”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby growled.

“Think about it,” you explained. “He’s been frustrated with us all week, our scenes have sucked, he lied to both of us…”

Giving up on the door, Ruby leaned against it and turned to glare at you. “You think he locked us in here on purpose?”

You shot her a knowing look. She groaned frustratedly, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the door.

“That is exactly something he would do,” she exclaimed.

“Someone’s going to sue that man one day,” you huffed.

Ruby snickered in agreement. “Why don’t we?”

“Pretty sure that would require us to actually talk to each other.”

Silence fell between the two of you, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted joke turned into you accidentally addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s not like we ever talked much before…” Ruby muttered, breaking the silence.

“That’s not true,” you argued. “We used to bicker constantly. Now we’re just… weird.”

“This whole week has been weird.” Ruby agreed.

“Why?” You pushed, squinting at her. “You helped me out with a fight scene, and now we’re like two twelve-year-olds at a middle school dance. How does that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I just…” Ruby sighed exasperatedly, and put her head in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you realized the brunette was struggling with her words. Usually, she radiated confidence, an attribute of hers that made you burn with jealousy. Now, she exuberated hesitance like you’d never seen, with her body backed up against the door and her face covered with her hands.

You took a step towards her, and spoke softly. “Ruby, you and I both know we’re not getting out of here until we start talking.”

Realizing you had a point, Ruby groaned and dropped her hands. She refused to look you in the eye, instead opting to stare at your feet while she searched for the right words.

“When we were… fighting,” she began, chewing on each word as if it were molasses. “There was a moment where… I had you pinned…”

She swallowed involuntarily at the blatant description. Your face flushed, but you nodded in an attempt to coax more out of her.

“I was looking down at you… and… I guess… I just realized… maybe I don’t… hate you… as much as I thought I did.”

The moisture drained from your mouth as her confession caught you completely off guard. Half of you had the urge to make fun of her, and the other half just wanted to grab her shoulders and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, you decided to probe on. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think I ever did,” she confessed in a half-whisper. “I never really got to know you before, I think I just… saw you as competition. I mean, you were at every audition, how could I not? I think my mind just filled in the blanks? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” You asked, moving closer and causing her breath to hitch as she was caught between you and the door.

“I think… no, I know… you don’t… hate me either?”

She apprehensively searched your features for an answer, as what was supposed to be a statement came out as more of a question. You nodded, prompting her to exhale in relief before continuing.

“I know that I don’t have to see you as competition. I know that it may have taken me a while to realize it, but the time we’ve spent together on set has been the best month of my life. I know that I hate feeling vulnerable, so if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll deny it… and then I probably actually will hate you.”

You chuckled at her joke, and she began to relax as a warm smile spread across her face. By now, you had moved close enough that your faces were mere inches from each other, and you could just barely hear her breathing over the pounding of your heartbeat.

“So… what now?” You asked, secretly hoping for one specific answer.

She glanced down at your lips, eyeing them hungrily as she hesitated. “I, uh… I think I know… what I want that favor to be.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at her sudden bold demeanor. But as you gazed at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension, you knew there was nothing in the world that could stop you from fulfilling that favor.

Grabbing her jaw, you brought her face closer and crashed your lips together. A small gasp escaped her lips at first, but she soon grasped at your sides and started to kiss back. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were rough and passionate, something you weren’t surprised at given her usual fiery personality.

Her middle finger wrapped around one of the belt loops on your jeans, giving her leverage to pull you closer to her. A quiet whimper erupted from the back of your throat, the feeling of her body pressed against yours being enough to make your knees buckle. You grabbed onto the back of her neck for support, simultaneously pulling her towards you even more and spurring moans of approval from your newfound lover.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both of you gasping to catch your breath, but neither of you letting go of the other. As you stood there, wrapped in Ruby’s embrace, you couldn’t help but survey her features. Her eyes had darkened from overwhelming desire, and her lips were pink and puffy, coated with your saliva. Her originally shiny brunette locks were now disheveled, stray hairs sticking out from the static electricity of being thrust against the door.

She was a mess, but in that moment, you swore you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A breathy chuckle left her parted lips, breaking the silence. “I, uh… I was actually just gonna ask if you knew how to pick a lock.”

Your jaw dropped in shock as you stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

She shook her head no, erupting into laughter at her own joke. You glared at her, unamused, but soon found yourself stifling a giggle. Enemies or otherwise, Ruby was always going to be a sarcastic hothead, and nothing could change that.

“Wow…” she sighed breathlessly.

“I know…” you agreed. “Guess we should thank Calvin, huh?”

Ruby began to chuckle before her eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Shit, Calvin!”

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused at her change in demeanor. “What about Calvin?”

“He casted us together because we hated each other,” she whisper-screamed, eyes darting between you and the locked door. “Everything he’s done has been to fuel the fire: forcing us to share a trailer, locking us in here! He wants us to hate each other, he doesn’t care what it takes! If he finds out about this…”

Panic washed over you as your mind swarmed with possible things Calvin would do to taint your relationship if he found out about your feelings for each other.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. “What do we do?”

Ruby pursed her lips, deep in thought as she racked her brain for ideas. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she turned to you with a wicked grin.

“We’re actors,” she replied. “We act.”

Gripping your shoulders, she walked you backwards before letting go and returning to her original position. Confusion painted your features; you didn’t know what Ruby was up to, but you were curious to find out.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” she exclaimed loudly. “In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever want to be stuck filming with!”

Her sudden shift in attitude left you puzzled and a little hurt, but you quickly understood her intentions after she shot you a sly wink.

“Oh yeah?” You retorted, playing along. “Right back atcha! In fact, if I never saw you again, it’d be too soon!”

Ruby stifled a laugh before quickly getting back into character. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Fine!”

At this last remark, the sharp click of the lock sounded again, and the door swung open. Calvin stood in the doorway, a huge ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

“Welcome back, you two.”

He left the door open, and motioned for you to follow him out. You started to exit the room, but as soon as Calvin’s back was turned, Ruby grabbed your wrist and spun you around to capture your lips in hers once again.

A sharp inhale echoed against the back of your throat as she took you by surprise, but you pulled her close and kissed her back in a heartbeat. This kiss was different from the last, with the newfound excitement mixing with the terrifying prospect of being caught. The rush of adrenalines had never tasted so sweet.

Ruby pulled back with haste, immediately looking over her shoulder to make sure Calvin didn’t see. When the coast was clear, she turned back to you with half-lidded eyes.

“I hate you,” she muttered, a goofy grin spreading across her face.

You giggled, covering your mouth to suppress the sound before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I hate you, too.”

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acoraxia · 2 days

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gela do you like character design? Cause you're constantly popping off over here. I feel like only someone who likes character design can cook like you do

(and maybe you could teach your ways? A little bit? I would love to learn o7)

HAHAHAHA—no. I like watching it and studying it! I love analyzing character design but drawing it? I’m being held at gunpoint

When it comes to OCs I have to design them otherwise it’s hard to get the point across as to who I’m talking about, how their design translates via text, etc. when it comes to, say, Erlang and Sun Wukong it means a lot of character analysis and figuring out whether or not their outfits work… and then realizing the limits of my skills (I hate armor but armor is VERY MUCH in character for these two designs)

I tend to do SOME form of research into my character designs — this ranges from looking at the original sources (FSYY, JTTW) and then modern depictions of them (Nezha Reborn/New Gods, Dyslite (?), Lego Monkie Kid, etc) and studying how their designs work.

I love New Gods rendition of Erlang but that reads more to me like a.. teenager? Young adult? Version of Erlang rather than the aged post-fsyy soldier we see often depicted in JTTW content

I also have a lot of story telling done with color for their outfits:

You can see hints of green for Wukong (Nuwa) and how there’s bits of red in his hanfu — but it’s not overpowering. You can still see gold and even in his makeup there’s teal. You can tell this is SWK in an outfit that was coordinated to suit him for a specific area/god/etc.

But then with Erlang we see him engulfed in red. The same type of red that resembles wine or drying blood because this is an outfit that (ahem) Su Daji picks out for him. The only bit of gold is the belt/sash holding it all together. This, along with the jade skin and dark blue hair, makes it seem like he’s not human. That’s the point! He’s a demigod and he’s often depicted with unnatural skin color (at least in animated versions):

And then of course there’s accessories! We have Sun Wukong’s iconic cudgel and honestly LMK’s design of it is already very well done that I don’t feel the need to adjust it for my au.. so instead I designed him a mask:

This allows for some of his personality to shine through more! And it is far more intimidating than canon!lmk!swk!!

To put it simply: I don’t like character designing because it is VERY hard for me to translate my thoughts onto a canvas but I enjoy the finished results (most of the time) too much to not try and do it. That and when it comes to my favorite characters I will ALWAYS have fun designing outfits for them 🧡

#ask #yippeeee #art stuff

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doakarma · 23 hours

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Ooc// so I finished the oc stuff.

The backstory feels a bit too unrealistic but so do a lot of canon backstories so I’ve decided I don’t really care, i might change it but idk. I’ll see what everyone thinks about it.

Their ability is inspired by Yukito in another story

@oscarsgallery here they are!!

Ashton

~ Basic info ~

Name : Ashton

Age : Unknown *

Pronouns : They/it

Sexuality : Demi-Ro/bi

Height : 5’4

Personality : They are very dramatic and love to do everything in as extra of a way as possible.

Affiliation: None.

- Port mafia (past)

* their age is unknown as they don’t tell anyone their real age. they are around 16-ish but on their fake documents they say they’re 19.

~ ability ~

Name : Checkmate

Range : Close range

Description: Their ability is activated during a game of chess, where if their opponent agrees to play they can’t deactivate the ability. If they beat their opponent then the opponent dies in a mysterious accident within a few hours.

~ backstory ~

Their father happened to be affiliated with the port mafia but did his best to give Ashton a good of a childhood as possible. This worked for a while and they got a fairly normal childhood despite knowing their fathers work.

This didn’t last forever and while still fairly young they ended up being dragged into the mafia. They were taught normal skills but within their first few missions it became obvious they weren’t the best, they weren’t as strong as the others (partly because of their young age) so it was decided that they would play into that fact and they were taught to be the one who would he left behind if a mission would likely end in someone being taken in to questioning, so naturally they ended up being trained to maintain blank even in interrogation (or torture)

Eventually about a year or so ago they got tired of the cycle and made a plan to escape. Their friend (who worked with counterfeiting stuff or something) helped them to forge a new fake identity and to fake their death. Which all went surprisingly successfully and legally they are considered dead.

With their new name and altering of their appearance they decided to venture out to find somewhere far away, ending up in the sky casino and managing to get a job there. It was there they discovered their ability after every time they bet someone at chess they’d end up mysteriously dead, so they changed to only ever playing against people who were cruel and happened to be in the casino.

after they casino was destroyed they ended up returning to Yokohama, but staying as far away from the mafia as possible. They do hope to one day be able to track down their old boss and play a game of chess with him.

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izak-gov · 23 hours

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10 Facts about Ángel

all credit to the incredible @the-whispers-of-death for the template/ layout (?) of this idea !!

⁰¹ Ángel is the biggest foodie ever, his relationship with food is so strong & his love language is making food for others. You could be in a completely different place (country, town etc) and say you’re hungry and he’ll be listing the different restaurants in a 15 minute radius.

⁰² Will always put family first, always. His mother and his daughter are the most important things in his life, and Lilia was the reason he left the special forces when he was 26- because he didn’t want to leave her to grow up without a father like he’d done. He regularly sees his mother and always brings her little baked goods <3

⁰³ He grew up in a superstitious household and is a firm believer of different folklore & myths- when he was younger he had a fear of rivers after his mother told him the story of La Llonora; now that he is older, he’s less afraid of them but he’s still wary.

⁰⁴ In Shadow Company he doesn’t use a callsign, though he’s fine with being called by the one he received whilst serving in the Mexican Special Forces- ‘Viper’. Unfortunately, the callsign wasn’t a testament to his skills but rather a result of a drunken night out where Ángel swore that there was a rattlesnake in his barracks, but after about an hour, it ended up just being a pair of socks and another soldier snoring.

⁰⁵ He genuinely enjoys learning languages (could not be me) and he currently speaks 4! Spanish was obviously easiest as it’s his first language, and portugese was easy enough for him to pick up as it is so similar. He learned English for the military and he learned Italian to impress someone who he thought was hot, he’s very passionate LOL.

⁰⁶ He’s actually very healthy in terms of coping mechanisms (i’m looking at you, cujo & bärchen) but if he ever does get bad he will stress clean and cook. Once after a prolonged medical leave, he got overwhelmed with the change & disruption to his normal routine and ended up gutting his whole house and cooked enough food to feed his entire street.

⁰⁷ When he was younger he really wanted to be an artist, he was talented for his age but when he was a teenager he had to accept that it wouldn’t actually be able to take him anywhere and he stopped to focus on more important things, like getting a good education.

⁰⁸ When he’s deployed, he sends Lilia letters and small gifts from the places he’s been. The letters are always very detailed and have little pictures and drawings of different things he’s seen that he thinks she’ll find interesting- this ranges from a dog in a bush to a pretty flower he saw.

⁰⁹ One of Ángel’s biggest fears is dying, but in the case of what he’s not done and what he’d be leaving behind. When Ángel almost died at 25 (after getting shot in the shoulder), his only thought was Lilia and his mother. Ángel was only 15 when his own father was killed, and he remembered how painful it was- he didn’t want Lilia to go through it, or for his mother to go through it again.

¹⁰ He adopted a stray cat off the street, and even though he told his mother that Lily begged him to- he was just as eager. The cat was dubbed ‘pozole’ by his mother because she threatened to turn it into stew, but Poz has grown on her now <3 Ángel says that when he’s away he misses Pozole more than Lily, and he’s only haaalf joking.

#cod oc #call of duty oc #original character #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #male cod oc #shadow company #shadow company oc #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #cod oc fun facts #cod oc ʚɞ ángel

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timeagainreviews · 2 days

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In Space, Nobody Can Hear You Scream for Your Nappy Change

Few shows have had as many pilot episodes as Doctor Who. From “An Unearthly Child,” to the 1996 TV movie, to 2005’s “Rose,” and now “Space Babies.” However, one could argue that every new Doctor is essentially a pilot episode. There are notable shifts in the show’s dynamic to such a degree that it’s practically a reset. Any major personnel shift is a renewal. The transition from William Hartnell to Patrick Troughton, the transfer of power from Russell T Davies to Steven Moffat, and again, from Moffat to Chris Chibnall, for example. Even series ten began with the cheeky title “The Pilot,” where we find the Doctor earthbound as a college professor with his student, Bill, and his wife, Nardole. But “Space Babies,” is an odd one, for so many reasons. Mostly because it’s introducing us to characters we’ve been getting to know for a couple of episodes now. Then, of course, there’s everything else.

For some, an episode called “Space Babies” was always going to be a hard sale. Back in March when they revealed the new episode titles as a series of vignettes, Space Babies looked and sounded a lot like what we got. Sometimes a very literal title can be a bit of fun. “Snakes on a Plane,” tells you everything you need to know going in. While it may have benefitted from a bit of virality, you could argue that it does more with its premise than something like “Cocaine Bear,” which was little more than its title. I’ve complained in the past that my issue with the concept of the Timeless Child was that you could figure out the story by hearing the words. If I can watch a story in my head from its title, then in the words of Amy Pond- what is the point of you? My reaction to the title “Space Babies,” was very similar. Except in this case, I would say it was closer to a “Snakes On a Plane,” than a “Cocaine Bear.”

We’re off to a great start. I got to mention cocaine and babies in the same sentence. Speaking of awkward starts, why did Russell T Davies decide to open the show with the twee episode for the kiddies? Those types of stories are usually relegated to the mid-season point, after a really good one. I guess they needed a palette cleanser to put some space between “The Giggle,” and “The Devil’s Chord,” as they’re essentially the same story twice. But that’s for the next review. Though “Rose,” has its own brand of wacky weirdness with man-eating rubbish bins and plastic boyfriend doppelgangers with pizza peels for hands. Even still, it’s an odd choice for the “pilot.”

A lot of the episode’s enjoyment is predicated on how cute you think babies are. In my case, it’s not very much. If they had called the episode “Space Kittens,” it would have hooked me. But babies come with baggage. People are weird about babies. Babies are often politicised, which this episode definitely does, but more on that later. Another reason why babies were a hard sell for me is they’re not actors. Child actors are rarely good, so filtering their performances through the vacant faces of babies is like making a bad thing worse. Sure, they animated their mouths with cutting-edge technology straight from 1995’s “Babe,” but their faces gave us no range of emotion unless you count Eric, whose facial expression was that of one constantly bricking it in his diaper. I was reminded of the Gelflings in “The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance,” in that it takes some getting used to the look of their faces. Except in the case of the Gelflings, the Jim Henson Creature Workshop knew their limitations and used CGI where the puppets fell short. A furrowed brow would have gone a long way to sell the babies.

However, I’m not made of stone. I’m not so joyless that I can’t send my critical brain on a little vacay for 46 minutes. I also appreciate that Doctor Who still takes the time to do stories for children. It’s a family show, after all. I was even impressed that the episode was able to sell me on the concept of a booger man (or Bogeyman to be precise) when “Sleep No More,” had so utterly failed to sell me on the concept of eye booger men previously. Even more, I had never expected to feel an emotional connection to said Bogeyman. While a lot of it had to do with Ncuti Gatwa’s performance, I’ll admit I actually got a little choked up at the end of the episode. Even a snotty little freak of nature deserves a place in the world, and I identified with that. It’s nice when a Doctor Who episode ends and it was actually about something.

As mentioned before, Russell T Davies uses the baggage that comes along with babies to stoke the fire of his own story. Through the eyes of Jocylen, the ship’s reluctant nanny, we see the babies in another light- as a constant source of worry. Having never wanted the job in the first place, Jocylen’s part is one of necessity rather than vocation. No one working in the field of charity or crisis aid wants to be doing the work. Sure, it’s fulfilling, but the nature of its necessity is telling of the world at large, or in this case- star system. In a perfect star system, no child would go unhugged, unattended, or forgotten. Yet here she is, forced by circumstance and emboldened by compassion to rise to the occasion. She may not be nailing it, but seriously, who the hell else was taking care of the children they forced to exist? If “Kill the Moon,” was Doctor Who’s pro-life story, this episode stands in stark contrast as the pro-choice story.

An episode with a butt-shaped space station that farts its way to the shores of freedom seems like an odd choice to talk about refugees, but it’s also the episode that gave a booger a soul. While a lot of the tone aligns more with “Aliens of London/World War Three,” or “Love and Monsters,” the message aligns more with something like “Turn Left.” Russell T Davies is giving us a spoonful of sugar with our medicine, which seems the correct approach in a show where Christmas trees are capable of murder. Suffice it to say, seeing a Rwandan refugee playing a British icon on the BBC commenting on the conservative government’s Rwandan bill is better than anything the show could do on its own. You almost have to do it, and more than I’m glad RTD rose to the occasion, I’m glad it was Ncuti who got to do it.

Speaking of things only Ncuti Gatwa could do, I appreciate that his Doctor is emotionally available enough to offer a hug to a child while still being alien enough to scare the bejeezus out of them. I can’t really picture Tom Baker hugging anyone, though I can imagine him scaring the bejeezus out of someone. Maybe Matt Smith would do it. Jodie as well. But Gatwa’s Doctor is an interesting mixture of compassionate and completely aloof. It’s a mixture that is sometimes at odds with itself, but it works. You see it in brief moments like when Ruby’s caretaker instincts take over and she runs head-on into danger, while the Doctor takes a moment to pop around the corner and catch up to her. It’s the classic dynamic of the Doctor being reminded of human nature by his companion.

I really like this selfless defender of the people streak in Ruby’s personality. It reminds me a lot of an ‘80s companion. She’s like a mixture of Nyssa and Ace. She puts herself in harm's way to protect others. She writes songs to cheer up lovesick lesbians. She’s got a very full personality that is palpable very early on. We got this level of character development with RTD’s earlier companions, and it’s nice to see it continue. What’s less nice is how he seems to have also taken a page from Steven Moffat’s book where the companion must also be needlessly complicated. What’s more is it feels less enticing and more like retreading familiar territory. It’s giving “The Impossible Girl,” vibes with an Amy Pond pregnancy body scan to bring it full circle. This is one of my biggest issues with the RTD2 era so far- it feels like a remix of past Doctor Who. That isn’t to say he’s added nothing new to the show, but it does feel a bit Clara 2.0. I’m just saying, it doesn’t always have to be some star-crossed destiny. If you do it every time, it loses its power. Sometimes people just meet each other. Say what you will about Yaz’s characterisation, but at least she was allowed to be a person.

The story at the heart of “Space Babies,” is ultimately a bit thin. You could argue that there was never any real threat, but that happens sometimes on Doctor Who (take “Listen,” for example). I’ve seen some people online complaining that the Bogeyman doesn’t die, but what does it really do other than scare people? Sure, you see Eric’s pram toppled and find him characteristically bricking it in his diaper, but he’s not got a scratch on him. What if Eric went missing because the Bogeyman “ate” him. They could reveal that he actually was protecting Eric from the dangers of the malfunctioning bowels of the ship. Imagine the bogey bits tearing away out of the airlock, slowly revealing Eric inside. Not only would Jocylen have almost taken an innocent life, but two innocent lives. Pair that with the Doctor's brave rescue and blammo! It could have upped the tension and implied more danger, is all I’m saying.

I was a bit confused by the ship’s computer creating the Bogeyman in the first place. That entire aspect of the plot was skimmed over and very flimsy. I thought they were doing something with the show’s new magical premise, a “superstition of the Bogeyman made him exist,” sort of angle. But no, it was just something the ship did, for reasons. I also expected that to be the reason for Ruby's transformation into the weird scaly lizard woman. I expected it to suddenly be possible through superstition that stepping on a butterfly could change the course of history. But instead, the Doctor forgot to push the butterfly compensator on the TARDIS console. Kinda weird that RTD had two moments to further his own mythology but sided on technobabble. Not bad, just odd.

One aspect that bothered me was how long it took them to reveal the Bogeyman was made of snot. When they took the time to do this whole to do with the babies blowing their noses, I immediately looked over at my wife and said “The Bogeyman is made of baby boogers,’ to which she responded “I hate that you’re right.” They telegraphed it so hard that it made the Doctor seem slow on the uptake. If you recall from my review of "The Husbands of River Song," I felt like they did the same thing to River with how long it took her to recognise the Doctor. However, I imagine it's a bit of a balancing act to know when to reveal something. The Doctor doesn't necessarily have all of the information we have as an audience.

As pilots go, “Space Babies,” could have done better at introducing a new audience to Doctor Who. Much of the expository dialogue about who the Doctor is or where he came from felt rushed and unnatural. My friend Taryn said she enjoyed this aspect of the Doctor being less cryptic and more forthcoming with information. While I agree, I feel like the execution was clumsy, a word we’re starting to see more often in my reviews of the RTD2 era. For comparison, take Fallout, a show that came out only a month earlier. Both are technically first seasons of tv shows based on pre-existing properties with dense lore. Both have eight episodes to tell their stories. And yet with Fallout, we get a trickle of information as things happen. With Doctor Who we have the Doctor stopping his companion mid-sentence to say “Oh yeah, by the way, I have two hearts.” Look, I get it, I’m neurodivergent. I appreciate a good infodump. But there’s a big reason people are calling Fallout a triumph- it respects its audience enough to reveal things over time.

RTD said recently that young people won’t watch black and white. I don’t know if this is true as I am a cusp gen x/millennial. I don’t know much about what kids get up to these days, but I also don’t go around saying what they will and won’t do. It sounds a lot like “Those damn kids with their hip hop video games,” or like “Kids don’t like anything that isn’t Tik Tok or Roblox.” It feels like it misunderstands the appeal of storytelling in the first place. Studio executives have never fully understood what is good about Doctor Who. In the ‘70s and ‘80s, it was “Why can’t it be like Star Wars?” In the Chibnall era, the goal was to compete with Netflix. And now it’s “We need to meet the same standards of Marvel.” But if Doctor Who is always being compared to something else, you curse it into always being behind the curve. When I fell in love with Doctor Who, it was because it wasn’t like anything I had ever seen before. If I want to watch Iron Man, I’ll watch Iron Man.

Not all of the expository dialogue was without merit. I’ve been continually impressed by RTD’s handling of the Timeless Child storyline. As longtime readers know, I was not a fan of that story. Hell, first-time readers probably picked up on it in this article. But I don’t think it’s fair to discount the people who did enjoy that story. And I think it is far more interesting for the show to develop the idea as opposed to sweeping it under the rug. We learned that the Time Lord genocide was cellular, which helps the whole concept of the Master achieving what millions of Daleks couldn’t do make more sense. It’s amazing how much a single line of dialogue can overcome a lot of shoddy writing. I liked the Doctor stating that it doesn’t matter where he comes from, as I’ve been saying that the whole damn time. It’s also nice that despite everything, the Doctor is still a Time Lord in his hearts of hearts. We as fans kinda need those moments so we can collectively move on from what has been a rather ugly time in the fandom.

That’s not to say we aren’t still in an ugly culture battle within the fandom. Racism is still a very real aspect to the conversation. As are ableism, sexism, transphobia. And despite RTD meeting these things head-on with the grace of a fish out of water, we’ve still got some great points of intrigue. Who is this woman played by Susan Twist we keep seeing in the background? Who is the one who waits? Is Mrs Flood the White Guardian to Susan Twist’s Black Guardian? I would love to say it’s the Rani because it’s been 20 fucking years of it not being the Rani, which is also the exact reason I won’t say it’s the Rani. But god I wish it was the Rani. They even name-drop her! Give us this one, please. My point being, despite its daftness and its expressionless babies, “Space Babies,” still gives us a lot to go off of. If you didn’t like it, do what I did and watch it twice. The emotional resonance works better when it feels less like you’re watching a car accident.

Look, if you didn’t like “Space Babies,” I get it. Maybe it’s not for you. There are weird little problems with the episode. The expository dialogue I mentioned, for example. The babies are a bit much. The Bogeyman howling like a werewolf was batshit weird. I guess it was because they compared him to a dog. Even then, why not make it bark? You could ask things like “Why didn’t the Doctor use the TARDIS to fly them to safety instead of setting their space station on a crash course with the planet’s surface?” or "Why didn't the Doctor get sucked out of the airlock? It's air pressure, not gravity." Is the humour still falling a bit flat? Sure. It’s easy to pick stuff apart. But come on, the episode is called “Space Babies,” you knew ahead of time if that concept was going to work for you or not.

_______________________________________________

Thanks for reading! I'm sorry these articles are taking a while. Having two episodes drop simultaneously doubles my workload! I'll have the review for "The Devil's Chord," up tomorrow! Hopefully next week will be more timely.

#Doctor Who #Space Babies #Ncuti Gatwa #Millie Gibson #Russel T Davies #Ruby Sunday #Fifteenth Doctor #Season one #RTD #RTD2 #Susan Twist #Bogeyman #TARDIS #BBC #timeagainreviews

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sjofn-lofnsdottr · 2 days

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∇ - old age/aging headcanon

I want the suffering, give it to meeee.

I want everyone to know that when I opened up my inbox and saw this ask, I immediately DM'd him saying YOU PICKED THE MEANEST ONE and he essentially replied with cackling.

So I have a gpose set that kinda gets across how I think of it here, but I can use some words on top of it, of course.

Dusk never really thought about aging or death that much. Obviously he knows it'll happen, and he's aware that as an elezen he lives a little longer than most of the other Spoken races. The idea of outliving most of his current non-elezen friends made him a little sad, but what can you do? And who knows if he'll even live a full elezen life? It's not like he hasn't almost died a few times already!

But then he fell in love with Farron, who is going to outlive him by who-knows-how-long-there's-conflicting-age-ranges-given-in-game, but even the most generous reading (at least as far as minimizing depression goes) has it close to a century. And that makes Dusk incredibly sad.

The thought of pulling away and ending it before stuff got too serious did cross his mind, but honestly, by the time it did cross his mind, the relationship was already serious. And when he talked it out with Farron, Farron was adamant he still wanted this relationship, that it was already worth it to him. How could Dusk say no, when he already loved Farron so much?

Dusk still hates it, and once in a while the reality of that eventual pain his death will cause really sits on his chest and takes his breath away. He can't imagine going through what Farron is going to, and he feels helpless that there's not much he can do to keep Farron from having to.

It's a good time. =)

Thanks for the ask, jerk! <3

#ask and i will answer #just dusk #dusk and farron #good thing dusk isn't a vampire #or shit would get extra complicated i think

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skull-mulch · 2 years

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reminder my blog is tv-ma please respect that if ur not able to purchase a movie ticket urself of that rating to see urself out

with peace & love

#bruh some ppl on this site will have an entire essay for their DNI…#and then not say their age or an age range…#bro im so sick of seeing just minor like pls give me a range #are u 13 or 17 I JUST WANNA KNOW IF U CAN BUY A TV-MA MOVIE TICKET #😭 like i don’t understand why u cant even give like a two year radius?#i understand that younger ppl suffer im not trying to stop them from being on this hellsite buuuut??#idk maybe im just being a dick but holy shit…#just saying minor is weird to me tbh #i personally feel like thats just painting an even bigger target on hr back for the creeps out there #idkidk ive been on lots of different socials and forum sites and i promise u the really fucking weird creeps are already following you…#they definitely make stealth accounts and literally start salivating with their stinky mouth breather saliva whenthey see only minor in bio #anyways like i said maybe im just being a dick about it #not like it rlly matters too much since my follow spree my dash is pretty active again #also super weird to me when it says minor and single like thats a 🚩 for me #probably not all of them are stealth accounts but i usually just block them if its like that bc i dont like the vibes #ur looking for a partner on edblrrrrr???? 🤨#again fully recognize that i could be overthinking it but im not taking any chances #j.txt #DONT REBLOG #usa movie rating system sorry for anyone outside the usa that does not know what that means off the top of their head

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xysidhequeen · 2 years

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The King and his Red Knight

DPxDC crossover fic

Part 1

Really sorry to everyone who suffered through the fact that I didn't know about the existence of readmore. I can't fix the thread now but the individual posts are better? Sorry I have like a very rough idea of how this site works 😭

Check the: The King and his Red Knight tag to find all the parts

"Go here, Danny. Go then, Danny. Go to a random cemetery in the middle of the night for no reason, Danny." A voice grumbled, accompanied by the sound of sneakers rhythmically tapping stone.

Danny Fenton, currently Phantom, sat on a gravestone, his white hair a beacon in the dark night. There were no stars in the sky for him to gaze upon, their light hidden behind swaths of smog and neon lights playing off the gray clouds.

Clockwork had dumped him here, with no explanation for why. Not that he ever really explained much when he sent Danny off on his tasks. He supposed he should be grateful, at least he was in the same when rather than being transported a thousand years into the past.

"Wait here King Phantom. You will understand in time." Danny mimicked his mentor's voice as he let himself float off the grave he'd been dumped on after Clockwork shoved him out of a portal. His body floated higher until he could flip around, his legs crossing. He sat upside down, his chin in his palm as he glared petulantly at the assembled gravestones surrounding him, his toxic green eyes glowing.

"So far all I've seen is a concerning amount of ecotplasm for a city without a ghost portal and some blob ghosts! How long am I supposed to wait here?" Danny asked the air, and the aforementioned blob ghosts who were hanging off his body, soaking in the ambient ecotoplasm he radiated at all times now.

Neither provided him with an answer to his question and Danny let out a frustrated groan as he lowered his still flipped body to look once more on the gravestone he'd been tasked with waiting on.

Jason Todd, the name read. The dates, too close together, made something in Danny squeeze painfully. He'd been young, barely older than Danny when he stepped into the portal. Only for this teenager there had been no ectoplasm to bind to his dying body and repair the damage of death and force him back into a semblance of life.

"Who were you and why did Clockwork send me to you?" Danny asked the gravestone, one clawed finger tracing the words before he pulled back with a sigh when the gravestone gave him no explanation. The dead didn't always speak, not even to their king.

Turning his body Danny looked over the rest of the cemetery. It was empty, as most usually were this time of night, of the living. There were a few shades wandering around, circling closer to him, drawn by his presence. No full ghosts though, but oddly enough there rarely were in cemeteries. This was where the dead came to rest. To remember, if they wanted to. Cemeteries were sacred spaces to the dead, much as a temple or a church would be for the living who were religious. Ghosts who still clung to life, to their obsessions, did not frequent cemeteries, did not dare trespass and disturb those who had already found their peace.

Danny himself was an oddity. He had never shied from cemeteries, enjoying the peace he found in them, the guarantee of safety offered. And perhaps, he mourned that he himself would never have a gravestone for the living to place their flowers and their tears at. Who would make a grave for someone who was both alive and dead? There would never be a body to bury for him. His human half would continue to live on so long as his ghost core remained and could fuel it.

Maybe that was why he found peace in cemeteries, for all his whining that Clockwork had dumped him here. Cemeteries were for the living and the dead, one of the only places both existed in harmony naturally. For someone who was as much dead as he was alive such a place held a certain degree of belonging for him.

Danny straightened out in the air, letting his body lie above the grave as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the covered sky. He complained and whined about this task, but he was secretly glad that Clockwork had given him something to do. Even if it was just 'hang out in a random cemetary'.

Ever since he'd graduated high-school, revealed himself to his parents and discovered how deep prejudice and hate could run, and he'd run away to the Infinite Realms for sanctuary while his friends moved forward with their lives, he'd felt unmoored. A ghost with no haunt. Bored was too light a word for the gaping emptiness he felt in his chest, for the loneliness clawing at him. Clockwork, Wulf, Pandora they could help chip at the ache inside of him but not banish it. Not now that his family, his friends, were spread so far apart and so distant from him.

Not that he resented their choices, their distance, in fact he'd fought for them to do just that, to get out of Amity Park, to go to college, to become more than overworked teen superheroes. Still he missed them, even if he could visit them whenever he wanted. It was becoming clear as time moved forward that the world they belonged to and the one he did were two different things.

Danny Fenton couldn't go to college when his parents had declared him dead. Danny Fenton didn't exist as far as the government was concerned. Danny Phantom couldn't return to Amity when those same parents were waiting to capture him and tear him apart 'molecule by molecule'. Danny Phantom couldn't go back when the GIW were crawling over the town like ants.

So neither Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom returned to Amity after that day. And he made sure they couldnt follow him when he ensured the portal that took his life to function never opened again. He didn't need the portal any longer to get in and out of the Infinite Realms, and it was safer for the ghosts, his subjects, if the temptation of the Fenton portal was gone.

The world of the living was not yet ready to accept that the dead didn't always stay dead. And Danny would keep his people safe until they were.

Danny jolted from his lazing state of reverie when a pulse of emotion rocked through him, the strength of it stealing his breath if he had any to take.

Fear/Trapped/Dark/Fear/Help/HELP pounded into him and Danny frantically flipped around, head swiveling, poisonous green eyes wide as he triedf to locate the source. The emotions, the plea for help, burned his core, his Obsession screamed at him.

Help/SomeonePlease/Dark/Trapped/CANTBREATHE/HELP another wave of messages, of emotions pushed themselves at Danny and this time underneath the onslaught he could hear a rhythmic thudding. Danny looked down, horror filling him when he realized the thudding was coming from under the ground. From the grave he'd been hovering over for an hour now.

Danny flew down, sending back a wave of I'mHere/HelpIsComing/I'mComing to the boy trapped in his own coffin, feeling the intense wave of relief and hope sent back before he dived into the earth as if it wasn't there. Danny paused for a moment when he passed the thick wooden coffin, seeing a boy in the dark with wide, panicked blue eyes and fingers tipped with shredded nails and fresh blood.

"Hey, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Danny told the boy, keeping his voice gentle, soft. The boy jolted, fixating on the only source of light, Danny's growing green eyes. Danny hoped his smile came off as calming instead of 'freaky AF' as Tucker liked to call it. He grabbed the boy, Jason, as carefully as he could and then let his intangibility wash over the terrified teen as he lifted them both out of the coffin.

When they emerged from the coffin and the ground Danny set the teen down, leaning him against the gravestone, his own gravestone, and pulled back a bit. The boy was gasping in air as if the fetid, polluted air was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

Danny tilted his head as he watched the boy ground himself. Now that the emotions were leveling out and his Obsession was purring in contentment rather than growling in a frenzy, Danny could feel something off about the boy.

Disregarding the fact that he'd just come back from the dead, of course. But that wasn't the oddest thing Danny had seen in his afterlife. No the boy felt... not like a normal, living human. Not even like an Amity Park resident, who all felt more than slightly liminal. No this boy, this Jason Todd, felt closer to liminal than even Jazz, Tucker or Sam, who were three of the most liminal humans Danny had ever been around.

Jason felt almost...like a ghost. But not. Danny could feel the tickle in his throat that proceeded his ghost sense but the tell-tale mist never emerged. It was as if Jason was...like him. But Danny couldn't sense a core either. Even halfas had cores.

"Who are you?" Jason spoke, breaking Danny from his thoughts and examination. Jason was looking at him with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. Which, fair. Danny had just pulled him from his own coffin and there were so many questions that could stem from all of this, disregarding all the weirdness that was just Danny himself.

"I'm Danny, Danny Phantom. Or just Phantom. I go by either. And you're Jason, right?" Danny asked, smiling at the teen and oops, yeah that was definitely his scary smile based on the slight flinch there. It wasn't his fault his teeth were too sharp now and his lips split a bit too wide.

"How did you know that?" Jason asked, blue eyes narrowing. Danny nodded at the gravestone the boy was leaning against with a raised brow. Jason turned and almost toppled over from the movement. Danny frowned as the boy caught himself on his gravestone. His skin was still pale, too pale, and as Danny watched Jason swayed again.

"Shit. You're fading. You didn't form a core and your body isn't stabilizing." Danny cursed, moving towards the boy who scrambled back, only to be stopped by his grave.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asked, hands fisting as he tried to rise only to fall back to the ground when his legs refused to hold his weight.

"Saving your life. The dead aren't supposed to come back. There's always a price to pay, a balance that is struck. Currently, as you are, if I don't get enough ectoplasm in you to form your core, you'll fade and turn into a brain-dead husk." Danny told Jason, tone stern and no nonsense as he grabbed him. Jason made an effort to break free, but it was weak, and even at full strength, he wouldn’t have been able to break Danny's hold. Few in this realm could.

If they had the time, Danny would've approached this situation in a far different manner, but this close he could hear Jason's heartbeat, a weak flutter in his chest, skipping beats as it tried to fuel a body that was past saving. Jason didn't have the time for Danny to approach this gently and kindly, to coax trust out of the teen like he would a feral cat.

Jason had minutes left before his ectoplasm starved body consumed itself trying to make a core and failed because while wherever they were had more ambient ectoplasm than most places, it was far from enough to sustain the birth of a halfa. Maybe if Jason had stayed dead for another year, he'd have naturally formed a core and risen as a proper ghost. But that wasn't what happened, somehow he'd gathered enough to fix his body of whatever wounds or illness had put him in that coffin to begin with and come back to 'life' but without a core to sustain his body he'd be dead, again, in minutes. And Danny was not about to watch while a teenager, another teenager, died.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Jason hissed as Danny pushed his arms down and laid his clawed hands on Jason's chest.

"You don't. But you don't have another choice." Danny said with a shrug. "Now are you going to let me save your life or not?" Danny asked, not moving his hands. He'd save Jason either way but this would be easier if Jason worked with him.

"Fine." Jason spat and Danny smirked as his hands began to glow a toxic green that matched his eyes.

Ectoplasm pooled out of his hands and rushed into Jason, filling him until the boy glowed bright enough to rival the neon lights of the city around them. The green light flared around him like an aura, slowly shrinking but getting impossibly brighter as the glow centralized around his chest until a small glowing ball of green, like a trapped star, blazed from his chest.

Jason gasped, back arching as Danny pulled his hands away and the light vanished under Jason's skin. For a moment Jason's blue eyes burned green and his hair flashed snow white before returning to black, with one single lock of unearthly white left above his forehead. Jason collapsed back against his grave, chest heaving. Danny watched, eyes full of a sad understanding.

"What the fuck was that?" Jason panted out.

"Welcome to the world of the half alive, half dead." Danny said with a smile. "Want to get a burger and talk about it?" He asked, standing up and dusting off his hands.

"Make it a chili dog and you've got a deal."

~~~~~

Fixed some typos added some lines

Maybe I'll continue this AU. Maybe not. This scene was in my head for days and I wanted to share

#dc x dp #Clockwork:And the new Fright Knight is born #Danny said im going to adopt kids from cemetaries now its my thing #Clockwork thought Danny needed more friends so he located the teenager closest to Dannys age and most compatible to being a halfa #Dani: Does this make him my brother or an uncle or what?#Bruce isnt getting this one back #not for awhile anyways #Danny has to teach Jason the ways of the halfa #He gets Jason ghost guns and Jason is very content with that #also with all the fighting he gets to do because thats like how ghosts say hello #Jason also takes one look at Fright Knight's sword and says: I want that gimme #Fright Knight and Skulker take to Jason very quickly and enjoy training him #Jason and Skulker shootouts range half the ghost zone and Danny is just amused #Eventually Jason asks Danny if he wants to help him prank his family and Danny is 100% on board #the red hood arrives back in Gotham with 100% less heads in a dufflebag but 1000% more chaos #Jason and Danny legit haunt the mannor for a few months and convince everyone BUT Alfred theyre conventional ghosts #Danny also adopts Tim during this time because Bruce obviously cant take care of this neglected child and Danny said bet this is mine now #danny phantom #jason todd #batfam #dp x dc #danny phantom au #phantom au #danny phantom fic #The King and his Red Knight #The King and his Red Knight AU #TKAHRK AU #Red Knight AU

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