#i love both shows... and i keep noticing how much of modern anime owes a debt to kare kano

[worldoshaking]

Thoughts on the Horimiya episode!

Miyamura and Tooru are so cute :D Their dynamic is a big part of why I stayed invested in the manga, and the anime does perfect justice to it already.

I was always really moved by how Tooru is the first person Miyamura chooses to show his tattoos to, after Hori (and Hori was kind of an accident). On the surface, Tooru is one of the cool kids and Miyamura’s a loner who looks like an otaku. A line that always struck me as important (I think they left it out in the anime?) is where Hori says that Tooru is the type to fall for her outward appearance, but that he wouldn’t like who she is beneath the facade... And Miyamura says, no, Tooru isn’t superficial like that, because he did show Tooru who he is beneath his facade and Tooru accepted it (and ditched class with him, and agreed to help him keep his secret). Both Tooru and Miyamura see through the other’s facade immediately. Miyamura finds his first real friend after Hori, and Tooru finds someone who trusts him and who he can confide in in turn. Of course Miyamura found the courage to trust him is that he’s found someone who accepted that part of him already, but I think Ishikawa is a really important part of that journey in his own right.

Also, the fact that Tooru is the first person in the class to look closely enough to notice Miyamura’s piercings! And that he notices them while he’s admiring how good-looking Miyamura is... (minor spoiler: I can’t wait for Tooru to tell him he’s handsome with blush marks in the next episode. On the rooftop. With their hair blowing in the wind, and Miyamura’s eyes widening as he realises that he is being perceived and liked. Aaaah I’m emotional already)

tl;dr I agree with Hori, they should date.

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Anyway, I loved the episode. The anime character designs are really cute, they all look very smol and fluffy. (My boy Iura has made his first appearance too!!)

Also, the voice actors are brilliant. Especially Uchiyama Kouki, he pulls off that combination of wryness and vulnerability so brilliantly, and gives Miyamura a very endearing awkwardness. (I’m used to him playing salty, jaded characters, so this was genuinely a surprise.) I loved Miyamura opening up to Tooru, and the scene where he recovers from fighting for the eggs was *chef’s kiss* I really liked Tooru and Hori too. They all sound like the teenagers they are, silly and awkward and intense. (Hori saying ‘baka!’ made my day.)

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**manga spoilers**

A minor grumble: it’s always bothered me a little that both Hori and Miyamura keep saying they want to be the only one that the other trusts. I know that’s a ery natural way for teenagers to feel, but I still think it’s a bit toxic, and something they need to unlearn. Of course, at this point in the story it’s just at the level of them liking each other for who they really are, and appreciating that they get to see each other be vulnerable. But I do think no-one should want to keep their partner for themselves, or be jealous of them forming meaningful relationships with other people. (We do get to see Miyamura make lots of close friends and gradually be more openly himself in public, and a lot of this has to do with Hori’s support of him, but the possessiveness remains, especially on Hori’s side, and is never quite addressed.) This isn’t just Horimiya, I kind of wish ‘jealousy as a sign of love’ wasn’t such a popular trope in romance animanga.

Also, I find it slightly amusing that they think it’s a huge secret that Hori doesn’t wear make-up and does her hair up in a messy bun at home because... that’s what people do? Nobody is, or should aspire to be, cool and fashionable all the time! Of course it’s not just that, it’s also about her doing the housework, and taking on a lot more responsibility than most kids her age, and generally taking on a more down-to-earth persona from the cool honours student she is at school... But I do think that she is worrying a bit more about appearances than she needs to. Of course, the point is that it’s a real issue to her, and this makes an important point about the superficiality of the fashionable crowd, and the unrealistic expectations that girls internalise. I just want to see them actually address it! (It always felt to me like it stayed a bit tangential in the manga... the whole ‘be yourself’ message isn’t really front and centre, the way it is in, say, Kare Kano.)

But I love them, and I’m very excited for the next episode!

(I can’t wait for Miyamura and Hori being all domestic and fluffy... And Sengoku being Sengoku... And Kyosuke, the man, the legend)

[unohanadaydreams]

I was working on requests but then I was like y’know what I should do? Flesh out and write down my Mayuri headcanons because I can not bear the weight of this obsession alone.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi Origin Headcanons (incomplete but long)

features: uuuuh not overly disturbing. One instance of suicide, experimentation on a fetus.

The woman who raised him was elegant, ambitious, and dutiful. But she was not a mother. The care she gave Mayuri was toward his talent for sewing—he had an eye for detail and a competitive nature that compelled her to pinch his cheek and smile at his handiwork. Always, she smiled at the fabric. Never at him.

When he was very young, they worked for the local theaters. His mother—she told him over and over she wasn’t his mother, but Mayuri wanted her to be so badly that, in the secret of his mind, he called her that—was sought after enough to be choosy. They followed the actors before pay. She taught him that money was fleeting, but talent was everlasting.

She gave him books on educational odds and ends. Some were not to keep, on loan from someone who owed her a favor. Others were his, taken from those steeped in debt but unwilling to strip his mother’s wonderful kimono from their back. His favorite were of the natural sciences. He so wanted to keep a book on Reishi that he tossed it in the fire pit when his mother demanded it back, not wanting anyone to have it if he couldn’t have his way. She smacked his head against the wall until he bled.

His mother loved to be obeyed. Conditions were what she valued over coin. It was as close to power as could be gotten by someone with so little to begin with. She watched rehearsals, was ‘gifted’ favored seats, and was given a voice when it came time to pick the next play.

He was urged to nurture his curiosity; it would suit him when his mother sent him off to be a soul reaper. She always said she would, even when his entire face became a wrinkle at the thought of fighting on and on for nothing he cared about. At least the actors had grace, built up by makeup, masks, and finery.

Mayuri wasn’t fond of the actors as a rule. Their egos and posturing annoyed him. In opposition, his mother’s eyes followed them endlessly. The exceptions to his ire tended to moonlight as jesters; they came and bid him ask his mother to dye their kimonos or to copy the latest en vogue brocade—but better. That was her specialty—brocades.

He was often bored and lonesome, so when the actors spoke to him, he spoke back despite the cool facade he gave them when with his mother, which was often. The room in which he wove and dyed fabric was often filled with his chatter, to himself. But silent when his mother was there, which was often.

Mayuri pushed limits like all children do, but with himself. How far could he poke a needle into his skin before it became unbearable? If he sewed an eye shut, would it fuse together? His mother seemed very occupied and payed him little attention, until she noticed that his eye was, indeed, fusing shut.

She had a real son by an actor most beloved for his roles as heroines and not long after they were called for by a 1st rukongai theater, where the actor could not follow. His mother accepted, gave her conditions, and stayed for a few last shows. Playing a woman determined to follow her lover in death, he gave a long, wailing speech and did not get back up after twisting the knife to his gut. His mother smiled, looking satisfied that he had done it as the audience leapt from the pits to crowd the dying body.

Thereafter, he seemed to leave his mother’s side for good. Even if his little brother was too young to weave and was bland to everyone including Mayuri, he had an eye for color. His mother wove, aided his brother with dyeing fabric, and told Mayuri it was time for him to do more. “You think it’s only fighting, but my sister became a soul reaper. And now she lives in the clouds, doing as she pleases. No-no, not dead. Just dead to me.”

Mayuri left for the academy before he could watch a 1st rukongai production, his spiritual pressure growing well under instruction. But he hated the large emphasis on battle. Strategy interested him, but his questions soured many teacher’s attitudes toward him.

So used to his hands always being at work at weaving, Mayuri began to tinker on things during class simply to help him think. He sat in the back as a thin courtesy, but was known to dissect animals during lectures. His row was often empty but for himself.

Reishi, again, became a large focal point for him and Mayuri had more than a single book at his disposal. Texts both aged and modern were poured through with hunger. If all living things contain Reishi, then could some form of reishi revive the dead? Could life be made of reishi not through natural processes? Could the essence of the soul exist if pried from the shell, would there be enough reishi to support that?

He understood the concern behind the meetings meant to discourage his questions and lines of study, but he resented them all and burned his theories for show, every wondering word fresh in his mind. His logic was sound, his questions legitimate, and his ability up to the task. How could a soul reaper do as they please in such an environment?

Mayuri went to his mother when he neared graduation, pausing his education, years having past with much frustration, at her call. She sought opportunities for him, now that she served nobles, and he hurried back at the illusion of freedom.

His brother still wore an expression as blank as unmarked paper, but he hugged Mayuri round the legs whenever he entered the room. His mother scolded him for it.

It was here that he once again turned his wondering in on himself. Skin opened and tested for the conditions that would allow regeneration. Could healing Kido be broken down into a liquid or pill? Was there an alternative to healing Kido? With few tools or funding, Mayuri found his conclusions compromised. His skin became scarred, but healed well enough under his skilled needlework to cause no harm.

Not that Mayuri was afraid of harm. It hurt immensely to experiment on himself, but he was greater than the academy would let him be and beneath the pain would be the glory of discovery. At times, he had his little brother do what he could physically not. It worked well—though young, his brother seemed largely unaffected and his needlework had improved enough that Mayuri did not scold him about it. Which was praise enough.

While serving the Shihōin family, his mother made sly introductions to several of the clansmen and one who was not. A soul reaper named Kisuke Urahara, a dear friend of the Shihōin princess , who seemed impressed with Mayuri’s work, but only enough to praise it. He was two faced and annoying and worst of all brilliant. Mayuri wanted the praise he got as much as he hated the man. He was too touchy, always patting his back or hair or shoulder.

Urahara’s words gave confidence to the clansmen, who worked out arrangements with his mother. Instead of paying in full for expensive kimonos and debt-inducing brocade, Mayuri would have funding and permissions. It was all unofficial, under the table, and unknown the clan head. The only ones on the line were he and his mother and Mayuri knew that meant he would take the blame, alone, if relations soured.

The work the two nobles loved best in the beginning were that of regeneration, which suited Mayuri enough since they also gave him freedom to do more. He, too, wished to complete his work in that area. It was, once again, when he wandered back into questions of artificial life—the limits of reishi and the ways to change reishi to break those limits—that he was warned by Urahara. “Any good mind wonders about life and death, Mayuri. But you’re not cute enough to break the rules! Maybe if you looked like your mom ❤️ Instead of an angry burlap dolly~! Good thing you’re a little genius in the making, huh?”

Begrudgingly, Mayuri took the condescending advice and kept his work that did not suit the nobles at a minimum and extremely private. His notes were few, coded, and progressing badly without workable experimentation. What the nobles wanted were likewise becoming more petty; looking to outdo the humans on this or best another clan on that. Unbearable, demeaning work considering the fewer freedoms they gave him—the funding was running out.

He became more restless. More reckless. The Shihōin family and his mother parted ways. Mayuri’s freedoms were gone. He stuck holes in his little brother’s forehead until his face was covered in blood. Made horns. Tore off his own ears. Made better ones. Dug out his own fingernails. Tried to carve himself into something better—someone above these circumstances. His mother sewed his skin shut wordlessly one night, the one he’d rid himself of his ears, and pinched his cheek like he was a toddler again.

So too did his approach to his appearance change. Like the actors and jesters of his earliest memories, he painted his skin white. Covered his eyes in a strip of black. Set his blue hair stiff and neat like a wig. Unique to him were the metal improvements that replaced his ears.

His little brother began to follow him everywhere after he was given horns, his mother once again occupied. One day, they found their mother dead together, murdered body tangled in a weaving loom.

Mad, for sure, Mayuri took her body to his lab, determined to find out as much as he could before discovered. His mother was unsalvageable, but the fetus within her could be something extraordinary. A third sibling. A first sister. A wonderful dream. Someone to take his mother’s place, but better. Always better—always striving to be more than before.

The data was invaluable even if it was coated in failure. Not that he had truly expected to breath life on the first try, but he had wished to not be caught. The Shihōin were famed for their leadership of the secret police, though, and caught he was. Even his most ingenious traps could not stop an entire force.

Unlawful tampering of a soul, theft of Shihōin funds and equipment, unlawful creation, and the murder of secret police, mother, and unborn sister. He was sentenced to the maggot’s nest, no access to anything but a cell. Too valuable of mind to be die, but too dangerous to be free.

Too valuable of mind to die. He always knew he was. It was nice to hear it, though.

[ayzrules]

✶ 𝐇𝐗𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   Long story short, I have been thinking about this for wayyyyy too long now and wanted to get some ~thoughts~ & analysis written down! This post is going to be...fairly long, lol. Apologies in advance :D

  Also, if you can’t see the last gif (the one for ‘holy’), click here. Tumblr keeps fucking up the image when i try to upload it :////

  This post is probably going to be about 2/3 yorknew & phantom troupe/kurapika focused, 1/3 chimera ants, maybe with some references to other arcs (including manga-only arcs) mixed in. so, ofc, tons of spoilers ahead! also, i realize that my blog theme is hard to read (and i’m p sure clicking ‘keep reading’ sends you to the og post itself), so i’m linking the post w/ full text copy/pasted in on my art backup side blog (which has a more legible font) here. 

✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇   I’m sure absolutely nobody is surprised with me starting here - there is just. SO. MUCH. DEATH. in hxh. & right from the start, one thing I noticed that togashi really emphasized was the #4 and its connection to death. in japanese, chinese, and im p sure some other asian cultures the number 4 is pronounced like the word for death so it’s associated with death in general, and boy oh boy does the ‘deadly number 4′ thing show up E V E R Y W H E R E. we get to the hunter exam, and hisoka is applicant #44. kurapika is #404. i didn’t notice it at first, but this was so intentional holy shit. togashi is NOT SUBTLE.

  So pika & hisoka are, right off the bat, associated with death. okay. and then there are even more clues to drive the point home: hisoka is member #4 in the phantom troupe, kurapika’s birthday is april 4th (aka 4/4). 100% not a coincidence (!!). with hisoka, it’s pretty obvious why togashi’s throwing all this death 444444 stuff around - dude is a psycho murder pedo clown, literally gets off on killing people (and there’s also the fact that judas sits 4th from the left in the last supper painting, and he’s sort of the judas equivalent for the phantom troupe). with kurapika, though, it’s a bit more subtle and woven deeper into his characterization, which i LOVE. togashi puts the mans in blue & gold & white (traditionally ‘pure’ or ‘heavenly’ colors), makes him so fucking kind & so good-hearted.....when he’s not relentlessly pursuing his revenge, ofc. more on this in the next section, but pika = death. togashi has made that v v v clear.

  Backtracking a bit to hisoka, though, I also just wanted to point out the 4 is death symbolism in the fortunes too (GOD i love the fortunes): in one translation, he’s the false fourth moon, and in the og japanese (i think), he’s the false hare (4th in the lunar zodiac or w/e it’s called. i don’t know the japanese cultural influences here, but in the chinese legend that established the zodiac animals, they race across the heavenly river & the top 12 animals got zodiac slots. the hare finished 4th, so it’s #4 in the cycle). 

  And just as a final note, Tserriednich is the fourth prince of the kakin empire, and also another dude who has a hard-on for murder & other gory shit. again: togashi is not subtle with this, lmfao

✶ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘, 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘   As probably everyone who’s gotten to yorknew knows, togashi is so 0 fucks given when he wants to be. I mean there’s the whole thing where he just. took New York and decided, Yorknew. LMFAO, but also, he made the main antag of that arc be named chrollo lucilfer, sit around in a ruined church, have a reversed cross coat, pale & dark-haired/dark-eyed, generally dressed in dark colors, very terrible murder guy. liiiike......chrollo x devil symbolism game is 1000/10 at this point lmaooo

  And i know absolutely nothing about christianity in general, but pt/kurapika & yorknew arc is just so full of christian imagery/symbolism! one thing that i L O O O O O O V E though is how togashi really blurs the traditional christian-coded good/evil, holy/damned boundaries.

  Back to kurapika: he wears gold and blue, his coloring is very stereotypically ‘angelic’, he’s precious and good and kind. his chains are all about ~judgment~ and ~healing~ - some of the chains are also in literal cross shapes, aren’t they? And the chain dagger in his own heart...the imagery is very startlingly similar to the immaculate heart of mary, where the swords stabbing thru the heart apparently represent seven sorrows. IDK much about this stuff other than the visual similarities; literally had to google ‘daggers through heart christianity?’ to even get the name of that thing LOL. anyway, at first, it seems like togashi establishes him as the ‘angel’, the ‘good’, the ‘holy’ in the angel/devil, good/evil, holy/damned dichotomy between him and chrollo.

  But that’s not the end of the story. his entire storyline is driven by a huuuuuuuge giant desire for vengeance, first of all, and then there’s the scarlet eyes, which canonically are seen as demonic/cursed/what have you (according to one of the movies or smth? where they show pika as a 10 y/o?), and then we also have red eyes in modern culture being associated w pretty much the same thing (vampires, anyone?). the fight scene with uvo has everything in b&w besides the blood on his face & his red eyes & the moon (<<< more fortune foreshadowing & symbolism, i love to see it), and there are tonssss of scenes where he has to suppress his rage. so all of that is obviously not very angelic of him i would say LOL. in fact, what i find super interesting is that the scarlet/red eyes (which are ‘demonic’) is actually the driving factor behind his super powerful nen abilities; this ties in so well with the fortunes & death associations imo! the fortunes call him the ‘death-bringer’ in one translation, or ‘half-angel, half-death’, so that’s one side of pika = red eyes = death, but there’s also the fact that emperor time is literally draining his life force. so pika = death for both himself and others namely the pt, question mark?

  Now for chrollo: togashi’s devil symbolism is EXTREMELY overt with him, but i love the subtler jesus references too. the church thing, obviously, and the st. peters cross which is cuz st peter respected jesus too much & didn’t think he was worthy to die in the same way as him (or something like that, i am the most atheist person in the world & hxh is literally my entire christian education pls) but is also used as an anti-christianity symbol these days. bandit’s secret looks like a bible, lbr, and mans has a cross tattoo.

  Other things beyond visuals - 12 spiders, 12 apostles; hisoka’s betrayal, where member #4 can be thought to correspond to judas sitting 4th from left at last supper. and this miiiiight be a bit of a stretch, but i think the meteor city being the place of origin may also play into the blurred line between angel/devil and holy/damned here; meteors are defined as space rocks that are in earth’s atmosphere, becoming incandescent in the process. meteorites are for the kinds that actually reach the ground. and idk, lucifer was cast out of heaven / sky too right? so i think there might be some subtle fallen angel imagery/symbolism playing into the pt as well

✶ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒)   Last section yay! i don’t have as much to say about this, besides when i was making chimera ant arc edits & realized that there might have been some subtle gon/meruem parallels???

  So obviously, everyone knows that line killua says to gon - “you are light” - and then i was just remembering that meruem’s name means.... “light that illuminates all” (!!!!). maybe it’s a coincidence, but knowing togashi, i’m leaning towards nahhhh. there HAS TO be some kinda meaning there (!!).

  Going back to the events of the chimera ant arc....ooh boy. let’s see: gon is optimistic & hopeful even in the face of kite potentially being dead, killua says he’s light, they find kite & dude is fucked up, gon is pissed. gets all angry & ~dark~, especially during the palace invasion when he’s staring pitou down as she fixes up komugi. then the actual fight against pitou: more darkness, more anger, but through it all there’s still light, namely his jajanken being very orange & fiery lookin.....and that final sequence, where he puts all his possible nen he’d ever have into his ~final form~ or wahtever & turns into a male version of true form!bisky but dressed in a crop top & short-shorts (i am SCARRED, btw. s c a r r e d !). there’s just huuuge flashes of light as that’s going on, and it reminded me of supernovas or dying stars when i was thinking about it, where the star is like, collapsing under its own weight? & burning thru its own fuel, until there’s nothing left except a dwarf or black hole or what have you. one final, extremely deadly burst of light & energy before death.

  On the meruem side of things: born into a dark cave, exhibits a traditionally evil/cruel/wicked/whatever personality/traits so that has ppl associating him with darkness. then he gets to know komugi, starts to appreciate other aspects of humanity, seems like he could have actually turned into a decent person who doesn’t want to eat everyone - so that’s a ‘path to light’, maybe? - and then the extermination team yeets themselves into the palace, netero takes him out to bumfuck nowhere, they fight. netero’s fighting is just ALL light, from his giant ass golden 100-type guanyin bodhisattva to the poor man’s rose. again, there’s the sense of finality to it all, in a similar vein to dying stars: netero comes in determined to kill meruem no matter what, and we all know netero doesn’t flake. then we see netero get destroyed after the zero hand, and he triggers the rose, and everything is burning & on fire before the flames are put out and all turns dark again.

  But wait!!! pouf & youpi revive meruem and all he does is play gungi with komugi, even with the poison of the rose. he eventually dies, and the gungi pieces in that final shot of them together (i am BAWLING just thinking about it holy shit) has one that’s all white, one that’s a black ring and white inside. i assume all white is for komugi, who has never done ANYTHING wrong in her LIFE, so i like to think that the 2nd one is for meruem - born “into darkness”, literally & figuratively, but he turns something like ‘good’ by the end. it’s interesting how togashi has sort of gone for a bit of a subversion here: the hero going from light to darkness, and the main antag from darkness to light.

✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍   AahhhhHHHHHhhh so if you read all the way down here through my LONG rambles, tysm! i would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear what other people think about all this, and i’ve FOR SURE missed tons and tons of stuff - chimera ants is just. SO MUCH. and i don’t know it as well as yorknew eeek.

  I’m not sure if i’m really ~knowledgeable~ in any other areas relating to hxh, so this might be the only one of these that i do, but i definitely think about some of this - esp all the religious symbolism & #4 stuff - a ton! so in the meantime, if it’s of any interest, i’m just going to shamelessly plug my hxh x religious beliefs/superstitions edit series :D lots of love to all!!!

[faustonastring]

Okay but how about the main six taking care of mcs and their kids

Thank the both of you for requesting! I’m gonna try to make everything about the kid(s?) as vague as possible, so it could fit better with your apprentice, so this is going to be mainly focused on the main six. (Tagging you so you can see it @firstshoeweaselmaker )

Main six taking care of their kids

Asra

He wants to give his kid(s) a much better life than he had. He grew up on the streets thinking his parents had died, he does not want his kid(s) to even have that cross their mind(s) he wants to be there for his kid(s) to make up for his parents not being there for him if that makes any sense.

His parents are also very involved in helping him raise his kid(s) kind of as a way to make it up him, ya know,,,,disappearing when he was a very young child giving him a lot of mental health issues, but both you and asra, reassure them nothing was their fault, and they owe him nothing.

He’s also a very involved parent, he takes his kid(s) on a lot of adventures with him, to the woods, the palace, nopal, anywhere he can think of, and he shows them a lot of magick tricks, and helps them learn when the time is right. He’s the cool parent. Like Regina George’s mom. (Who he quotes in a modern au)

It’s safe to say that muriel is also very involved and will watch your kid(s) when ever the two of you need,, some alone time. But when your kid(s) get older,,, ahhh things don’t work out the best,,, it’s not that they hate asra it’s just that their teenagers! And Asra lacks personal boundaries and has and will continue to accidentally walk in on your kid masturbating and he never recovers from it. (I’m sorry some one had to say it)

Nadia

I’ve mentioned this before, but she’s very reluctant to ask her family for help. She’s stubborn okay, so instead she reads up on it herself, and only reluctantly lets her family help when they finally find out.

Her family pretty much takes over your kid(s), they even make a schedule so the can organize taking care of your kid so they all get to have a turn. Nadia doesn’t mind, she enjoys their company, but every time they visit she gets annoyed because she hasn’t got to spend time with her kid(s) in like days.

The parenting is very balanced between the two of you, you end up just falling into a schedule, where you both can evenly spend time with your kid(s). She likes to take your kid(s) on walks through the gardens, and as soon as their old enough she teaches them how to ride horses, and if they aren’t really grasping it,or if she doesn’t have the time she’ll hire them a personal trainer

When he kid(s) get older she tries to give them as much space and responsibility as she can, but is still kind of mother henish around them. She grew up with six (?) sisters, so don’t worry she understand boundaries, and will never break them. Atleast not purposely. But she is very stern and won’t hesitate to punish your kid(s) if they’re out past curfew.

Julian

He’s panicked all over as soon as the two of you decide you want a kid. He’s reading up on all his medical studies he has on children, reading books, newspapers, and asking every parent he knows for advice because he doesn’t want to mess this up. You trust him enough to want to raise a kid(s) with him, so he’s not going to break your trust. He promises.

Portia and Mazelinka will fatten your kid(s) up a little don’t worry. Julian freaks out about your kid(s) gaining too much weight too fast, but Mazelinka and Portia are quick to say “it’s just baby fat Ilya they’ll grow out of it in no time!” He still worries a little (trust me he’s over reacting)

He’s very all over the place, but he’s a great dad. He can be very stern and strict if he has to be, and he doesn’t let his kids run around like wild (I’m looking at you asra) but he does make sure they have fun, and he brings them on lots of voyages across the sea, and makes sure that you all take a yearly trip back to Nevivon

When his kid(s) get(s) older he keeps the authoritative parenting style he developed, and makes sure he gives them a lot of freedom. He knows how teenagers are, even though he’s not the best at boundaries he’s trying. Just don’t break his trust. He’s also the type of parent to wait in the pitch black living room for his kid(s) to get home from sneaking out and say “so where were you last night” making his kid(s) jump out of their skin

Portia

She would be the sweetest mom ever. She’s already looking into good school districts (or the vesuvian equivalent) and making cookies for the vesuvian equivalent of a PTA that she’s not a part of yet but will be sooner or later

Julian would be such a fun uncle. Like something about him reminds me of one of those goofy uncles that make short appearances in like ninety’s sitcoms, if that makes any sense to anyone else. Also every one goes out to mazelinkas for dinner every Friday. It’s kinda like an unspoken rule now

She’s very comforting and loving- well they all are but espically Portia. Her house is always the go to place for play dates, and she makes the best pillow forts (out of the main six asra is second and Muriel is third, the rest of them equally suck) she’s also great at playing pretend, and when her and Julian get together to play pretend with you’re kid(s)? They’re at it for hours.

When her kid(s) start to grow up she gets very emotional, and starts to ask you for another baby, (you either get another kid somehow, or adopt another cat, either way she’s happy) she respects the boundaries of her kids, but let’s her kids walk over her if they start to break her trust because she has a hard time saying no to them.

Muriel

He double checks like a million times just to make sure you want to have a kid(s) with him.Like there’s no one else you’ve been seeing right? That will make a better farther than him? Are you sure? But once he’s over the initial shock he’s thrilled.

Asra is all over your kid(s) within days baby talking them no matter how old they are, pinching their cheeks, he also brings them back cool toys from his journeys. Nadia also showers your kid(s) in expensive gifts. Behind muriels back of course because she already knows he’s way to humble to let his kid accept anything like this.

He’s a very loving and stern dad. The only reason he’s so stern sometimes is because he cares about your kid(s) and he doesn’t want them getting hurt, or doing anything stupid. But he makes the best toys out of wood, and tries to sew little stuffed animals for them, no matter how old they are. He also brings them out on a lot of hikes and teaches them about nature and how to survive off the grid.

When your kid(s) starts to get older, it does upset him a little bit but isn’t too phased by it, he’s getting older too, it would be wrong to have another kid right now.....unless. But all jokes aside he like Julian is the type of dad to wait for his kids to come home from sneaking out in the dark, but instead of trying to talk to them about it he sends them to their room and grounds them until further notice

Lucio

Please pray for this man,, he does not have the paitence for kids, teenagers, babies, quite frankly he thinks babies are gross and slimy and wet, that it until the both of you adopt or have a baby (if that’s what you choose to do in your time line you don’t have too, of course)

Dude pray for morga too, she can’t afford to make the same mistake again, she really can’t. She visits every now and then, to see how things are going, and is putting her full trust in you too make sure your kid(s) don’t turn out anything like lucio.

He’s ahhh,,,I’m gonna be honest, not a good dad at all, I even think the devs ranked him, worst or second worst with kid(s) so :) have fun! He’s trying he really is, but morga was kind of an abusive parent, and lucio is,,,,well lucio. He’ll spoil your kid(s) rotten, and is really trying his best but aghhhhh he’s just no bueno. And morga isn’t any help either.

When your kid(s) are teenagers have fun, because not only are you dealing with how ever many bratty spoiled teenagers you have, but you’re also dealing with lucio who is just as bad. He can be stern if he has too, but Lucios version of ‘stern’ is just yelling back twice as loud. He also lets his kid(s) host parties at his house, and has crashed one of his kid(s) parties more than once.

Thanks for reading! If you liked what you read you can find my masterlist here, which I’ll be updating soon!

Next headcanon: the main six playing the arcana and getting an upright ending!

Request are open!

[marvels-writings]

Girl Like You Before (3)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | 

Request:  Hi! This is an amazing blog! Would you consider writing a Carol/reader mini series that still involves Captain Marvel and the other Avengers in a universe where aliens, "wizards" (thor's words not mine), and people with powers are a normal occurrence, but with a modern cinderella au twist?

A/N: I was genuinely looking forward to writing this part

Tomorrow came quickly, daily chores occupied your time as they always did. The twins and Strucker went out to buy fancier clothes for themselves, leaving you at home. You fixed up a dress your mother had given you, smiling at the dress before quickly shutting the door when you heard Strucker come inside.

It was evening sooner than you thought, the twins could care less about what you were doing when they left. You borrowed some of Wanda’s makeup again, putting eyeshadow to match the fav/color dress and matching shoes. After you were done, you twirled in Wanda’s body length mirror, smiling at yourself the entire time.

The dress was a stunning floor-length, body con, off-shoulder dress with lace adorning the sides and the straps on your shoulders. There was a thin leg slit with flaps, your high heels made it hard to walk, but you were determined to carry out the outfit to the best of your ability.

You grinned and called an uber, deleting your call history once you got into the car. You scheduled one after the gala would be over, a dark sedan so you won’t have to worry about being seen. The car dropped you off, you were a little late but you didn’t mind. The dancing had started, you entered discreetly and made your way to the bar, where you’d found Carol last night.

The gala was extravagant, as usual, half of the partygoers were sipping drinks, eating starters, laughing and talking, the rest were on the dance floor. You spotted the twins on the other side of the room trying to woo Carol, who somehow caught your gaze instantly and excused herself from the twins. Your eyes widened and you quickly ducked out of their sight, making your way to the side of the room where you hoped they couldn’t see you.

“You’re hiding from me?” A familiar voice said from next to you, you turned around to see Carol smiling softly down at you. 

Your breath hitched slightly when you looked up at her, Carol had changed her attire into a stunning peacock blue tuxedo with a maroon-colored tie, she wore black leather shoes which complimented the tight blue trousers perfectly.

“Never, not you.” You answered, smiling nervously up at her. 

“You owed me a story, care to tell me on the dance floor?” Carol asked, reaching out slowly to take your hand, giving you enough time to back away but you didn’t, her smile widened.

“I’d love to.” You smiled a little more confidently and let her lead you to the dance floor, noticing how she indicated the DJ to play something different from the fast pop song he had been playing.

He played ‘Girl Like You Before’ by Edwyn Collins, you smiled at the memories of yesterday as Carol pulled you into her arms again. The DJ slowed the beat down noticeably, allowing everyone on the dance floor to slow dance to the beat. Carol slid her arms around your waist, you hesitantly put your arms on her neck, fingers brushing the nape of her neck and occasionally brushing across her short hair. 

‘I've never known a girl like you before

Now just like in a song from days of yore

Here you come a-knockin', knockin' on my door

And I've never met a girl like you before’

Carol smiled wider at you as the song went on, ignoring the rest of the people dancing around her. She noticed you glancing to the side of her and frowned lightly.

“You still owe me a story.” Carol urged gently, your eyes widened and you bit your lip slightly, considering where to start, the simple action flustering Carol. 

“Well, I don’t live in the best conditions,” You explained vaguely.

“Care to explain further?” Carol probed further, you sighed, you opened your mouth to speak when someone spoke beside you.

“Hi,” Someone said next to you, you turned around and jumped back from Carol who slid one arm around your waist, pulling you close to her.

A woman with bright red hair faced both of you, she had gorgeous emerald green eyes and wore a body con maroon colored dress with patent black Louboutins. 

“Hi Nat.” Carol greeted, a smile on her face as she led you away from the dance floor, the redhead, Nat followed. 

“This is y/n y/l/n.” Carol introduced once the three of you had reached the bar. 

You ordered a mojito, Carol ordered a whiskey on the rocks and Natasha ordered a bloody mary. You sat on one of the barstools, Carol stood next to you as Natasha sat in front of you. You noticed how her eyes had widened slightly when she heard your name.

“I’m Natasha Romanoff.” the redhead introduced, your eyes widened drastically as you almost choked on your drink.

“Are you okay?” Carol asked, rubbing your back gently, you nodded and faced Natasha with wide eyes

“You’re the black widow?” You asked, stunned as you remembered stories your mother told you about the Red Room and the black widows. 

Your parents were responsible for ending the red room, they had known Natasha when she had graduated. The name was so familiar from stories they had told you about helping her, how everyone deserves a second chance. They died believing that, they died thinking they could bring down HYDRA.

“Are you… Never mind.” Natasha asked, sipping her drink and seeming to be deep in thought. 

Carol frowned, she knew your last name was familiar from something she had heard about Natasha, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was. 

“What’s going on?” Carol asked, looking from you to Natasha, both of you seemed deep in thought.

“Were your parents involved with taking down the red room?” Natasha asked quietly, you nodded vigorously, eyes tearing up slightly.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to them.” Natasha murmured, reaching across the bar counter to take your hand. 

“Can someone explain to me what is going on?” Carol asked again, trying to keep her tone from harsh when she saw how hurt you were at remembering what happened.

“Balcony,” Natasha instructed, Carol, squeezed your shoulder and followed Natasha to the balcony.

You sipped your mojito, thinking back to the stories your parents had told you every single night about their job and how they helped the world. They were never bragging, they were simply telling you that everyone deserves a second chance, and to do as much good in the world as you can. You didn’t care much for the morals behind the story, only their animated hand gestures while they talked and their laughing.

They had spoken often about Natasha, she had been only 20 when your parents had broken her out of the red room. They had been close, you’d never met Natasha when you were small, she had always been kept at the Stark tower in case she ran away and your parents cared too much about you to take you near danger. 

Natasha explained everything to Carol as quickly as she could, everything about your parents, the Red Room, your past. All Natasha knew was that Strucker and the twins had taken you in, after that, you hadn't gone outside at all except to get groceries. Natasha had kept tabs open on you to make sure you were safe, but Strucker covered everything up to make sure he looked like a rich father. 

Natasha knew they were abusive, but she couldn’t sue them without evidence. She constantly hoped you would show up somewhere, she hadn’t been sure it was you when Carol mentioned your name. But now she knew, she wanted to get you out of the hellhole you were being forced to call home. 

“Damn,” Carol muttered, glancing at you from the balcony, she noticed the twins and Strucker approaching you and her eyes widened, she rushed after you with Natasha following her.

You had been too deep in thought to notice the twins and Strucker getting close to you. You turned around when someone put their hand on your shoulder, expecting it to be Carol. Instead you were met with Wanda’s cold, green eyes, your eyes widened when you turned your head and saw Pietro and Strucker standing behind her, looking at you with angry expressions.

You tried to stand up, but Wanda pushed you down, opening her mouth to say something when someone behind her cut her off.

“Well, what’s this?” Carol asked, her voice tight and constrained when she saw the fear in your eyes. 

Strucker and the twins backed off slightly, Wanda made the mistake of keeping her hand on your shoulder. Carol glanced down at her hand but moved closer to you, intimidating the twins and smirking when she saw Natasha behind them.

“We were just about to take her home,” Strucker stated, almost scowling at the last word through his cool facade.

“She doesn’t want to go home with you.” Natasha hissed, their eyes widened as they turned around to face the black widow, her emerald eyes clouded with hatred.

“Is that so?” Wanda asked you, almost threateningly when she looked at you. She flinched slightly when she noticed Carol’s intense hazel gaze.

“I’m not going back there.” You said, you were terrified but you tried to act confident. 

Carol smiled at you and slid her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her confidently. She noticed you trembling, her heartbreaking when she thought of how much Strucker had put you through. She kissed the side of your head gently, rubbing your arm with her other hand. Natasha stepped away from behind Strucker and moved to stand between you and the twins.

“She is with us now,” Natasha stated firmly, Strucker flinched but moved to stand in front of the twins. 

“We’ll see how long you can deal with her,” Strucker said, keeping his face neutral but his jaw clenched. 

Natasha punched him in the jaw as hard as he could, knocking him on the ground instantly. She remembered your parents telling her about you whenever she needed a distraction, they often spoke to her about Natasha would be a perfect older sister for you. They often used you as encouragement for Natasha, even showing her pictures of you once in a while. 

Natasha knew how much they loved you, she wanted to keep you safe from everything, as your sister. She wanted to keep part of her rescuers alive and happy. 

Strucker and the twins hurried out of the party, too embarrassed by everyone staring at them after the Black Widow had just punched him. Carol pulled you into her when she noticed you trembling again, you weren’t trembling from fear this time, but from the feeling of being free.

“Are you okay?” Carol murmured into your ear, you nodded and gently unwrapped yourself from Carol’s arms to thank Natasha.

“Thank you Natasha.” You said softly, Nat turned to look at you, eyes soft when she saw how nervous you were.

“Call me Nat.” She said, smiling at you. 

You nodded nervously, Natasha reached forwards and squeezed your hand gently, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. Carol saw how her green eyes had been glazed with tears, she sighed and moved to stand beside you again, arm coming to settle on your hip.

“That was one hell of a show,” Steve remarked, walking over to you and Carol, Steve wore a simple black tux, one that matched Bucky’s.

“Where’s Nat?” Tony asked, walking over to the three of you with his drink in his hand. Carol noticed you tense up beside her and squeezed your side reassuringly.

“She went to the bathroom,” Carol answered, trying to get you to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n, y/n y/l/n.” You introduced, noticing Steve’s and Tony’s eyes widen.

“Y/l/n as in.” Steve began but Carol cut him off.

“Yes, do you want to go eat?” Carol asked you, cutting Steve off and turning to face you. 

You nodded hesitantly and waved them goodbye, letting Carol lead you to where dinner was being served. For the first time in almost a year, you felt free. You didn’t have to worry if you were doing anything wrong, you didn’t need to look behind your shoulder in case the twins were following you, you were free. 

“Thank you.” You murmured while Carol led you there, she frowned and stopped you, turning to face you.

“For what?” Carol asked, taking one of your hands in hers. 

“Saving me.” You smiled up at her, Carol grinned at you and stroked your cheek with her other hand. 

“I had to save you, cause I’ve never known a girl like you before.” Carol winked, you laughed at the cheesy line, causing the blonde’s smile to grow wider. She had fallen completely head over heels for you, she was never going to let you get hurt again.

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @5aftermidnight, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @marvelbbyx​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: Thoughts?

[kendrixtermina]

Thoughts and Feelings about“Change Your Mind”

I really wish I could rewatch this motherfucker somewhere but I have to sleep and go to work 

Well on the one hand the main story lines are pretty much done for, on the other, the fallout alone could fill another season, and I’m actually glad that they’re not relegating that to the epilogue but actually going to show it

I assume season 5 will be Steven working with the Diamonds to improve homeworld, explaining things to Jasper, integrating the former corrupted gems on earth, finding out the deal with pink pearl, further developing Steven’s new fusions etc. 

Other open questions involve gem origins and peridot’s renewable energy project, but I suppose that will come up as Steven tries to make the Empire less... imperialistic. 

I understand why they wanted to air this in one piece, you couldn’t leave the younger viewers hanging with some of these creepytastic scenes and no resolution

There’s various concepts I feel reminded of. 

There’s this idea of “tzimtsum” in kaballalistic thought, about how God created the world - In order to create a being apart from himself, he “hid” some aspects of the being, the ones that would seem - So every part of creation reflects one aspect of god, but none shows the complete pictures of it, and because everything has some aspects of god but not others, it is unique - so all humans are made in gods image, but still be different from each other.  

Maybe Pink Diamond would be something like Lucifer in this analogy, part of the creation but as far from the god as you can get while still existing, and somehow their antithesis (stretching the analogy here, of course Judaism has no counterpart to Lucifer let alone the positive-ish early modernity interpretions of him - but of course, White Diamond isn’t exactly a benevolent God either. )

First of course Star Trek, like the ep where Captain Kirk is split into what at first seems like his good and evil half but is more like his animal instincts and higher reasoning, or in Voyager, when B’Elana Torres is split into her human and Klingon halves. 

I guess Garnet wasn’t completely wrong in his being something in-between fusion and human reproduction, his gem half could be considered A Pink Diamond, but not the same one who created him - He must be fricking powerful to shrug off WD’s beams like that, like how Stevonnie still has “boosted” versions of Steven’s abilities despite Connie being human, Steven’s probably like Pink Diamond, but ‘boosted’.  

Steven’s victory certainly showcases how it comes from both sides of his heritage. It involves making WD laugh/embarassed like what Pink used to do, but unlike her, he has the communication skills from Greg - I don’t think Pink ever talked to Blue in that way, she didn’t seem aware of what the other Diamonds were thinking at all, any more than she really understood Pearl’s lingering knot of complexes. It’s just not a skill she could have picked up before Greg - when? From whom?  

His responsibility is all uniquely him and due to his upbringing with the CG’s and wanting to help him more, tho, both his parents where free spirit hippy bohemians, but it was Steven who decided “Nope, I WANT to fix it, because I can”, not because he owes it to anybody, even when no one could fault him for running. 

Also, Frankenstein (the Novel not the film) - The original Victor was a sympathetic, even admirable character, but somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to have empathy with the monster, though Adam was in many ways alike to him and initially didn’t wish to be his enemy.  Because while the gems relate to White Diamond as their goddess and the other Diamonds see her as their mother, she seems to regard them as extensions of herself. Maybe she would, as their creator. Gods are expected to smile benevolently upon their followers and solve their problems, Mothers, while they are flawed humans,  are supposed to love their kids as they are and realize that they become their own persons, but artists frequently tear up their own work if they’re dissatisfied with it, because it’s supposed to be a reflection of their existence, so they might hate it for not reflecting them well enough - 

i often regret tearing up half my teenage fanfics, but I’m able to view them different now that I’m - Back then, I felt like they reflectzed badly onto me - but if had kids and treated them like my fanfics or crumpled drawings, well, that would scar them for life. 

You could certainly see this as a metaphor for narcissism, particularly in the way WD judged everything by how much it was like her, to the point that she would ‘overwrite`’ ppl’s personalities with her ideas of how it ought to be, while lacking a solid identity of her own apart from being “perfect/the best” by default, but that only goes so far because the gems literally are her creations who take their characteristics from various aspects of her being. 

She’d have a completely different conceptual framework to anyone else, though she’s certainly not “above it” in any way. 

I don’t think she was completely unaffected by Pink’s dissapearence either, if you want to complete the Stages of Grief analogy she would be Denial or Bargaining. Most likely,  she was growing increasingly frustrated with her ability to make her empire “perfect” like she ought to and that’s why she started keeping to herself more and assuming that Pink couldn’t be dead. 

She seemed like the knowing one when she was as much in denial as anyone else - you can tell they had a complicated relationship because of how White saw herself in her, that might be why she indulged and preferred her, but then again she didn’t always like what she saw and felt that Pink represented parts of her that she didn’t want to see. 

It’s not without reason that Steven tells her to “get out of her own head” and try to see the world for what it is rather than her preconceived notions of what it is or means. You could perhaps relate that to 

When she realizes that she’s actually dead - that’s when she has her breakdown. 

You could even draw a parallel to “Romeo And Juliet”, where the older generation only realizes how much its ways were fucked up when it gets their beloved children killed for just trying to live happy lives. 

Cal Gustav Jung would certainly remind us that what irritates us about others are often things that irritate us about ourselves, that we may be liable to “see the world as we are” and never is that more apparent than when we view everything through some skewed belief system, or when we hate - people hate people who blur boundaries because they don’t want to confront the ambiguity within themselves, or act as “superior” and merciless because they’ve rejected their own mortal fragile humanity.

Another observation is that when you set up anything as the “default” you create pressure not to deviate from the norm and prevent its members from experiencing their individuality. (see societal pressure on heterosexual men, or Euro-Americans saying they ‘have no culture to celebrate’ - maybe instead of becoming a devouring plague upon your fellow men, you could actually appreciate European culture? Like, read some books, eat some cheese, learn a language, listen to some classical music, vote for worker protection laws?)

It speaks for PD that she even tried to save other aliens at some point. steven stepped completely out of her shadow the moment he was able to feel sorry for her, like “Geez, she had to live like that? No wonder she turned out the way she did!” he pretty much calls the other Diamonds out at some point, like he gets a secure sense of the differences between them when he realizes how much better off he’s been in his own life. Like, UGH. 

For my part, I don’t believe the “best of the worst” thing was true, and more of an “evil cannot comprehend good” moment from White, if not outright projection. (after all, White seems to view all other Gems as imperfect copies of herself) If anything, Pink seemed upset that she got stuck being the leader even as “Rose Quartz” (see the Beach scene in “Greg the babysitter”) - but of course Steven, not being Pink, wouldn’t know whether or not White is right. 

Other Thoughts:

In the earlier scenes you could see a lot of parallels to less than ideal family situations, and how people might end up acting as proxies of the problematic person, almost sprouting their words, in the name of keeping the peace, and how people in such an environment may have no idea of how it’s not normal

You CAN talk down such a person (I know of multiple people who made a bona fide job out of talking sense into literal nazis and clansmen, person by person - their tactic was generally to find whatever problem their rage came from), but there’s a difference between “flawed” and “awful” and I do think it came through that White is a piece of work quite unlike, say, Connie’s mother, and that Steven’s dealing with her because he wants to for the good of society, because he’s the bigger person and secure in himself,  not because he owes it to her or anything

It seems like they went for “awesome” rather than “beautiful” with Steven’s fusions. The designs are kinda gaudy, but even so, once you getpast the gaudy design, it’s kind of touching how Steven’s and Garnet’s fusion is essentially a motivational speaker who sprouts encouraging advice nonstop. Garnet was always Steven’s Mentor and  as well as the main person (besides greg) to teach him morals, as well as generally encouraging & supportive, but Steven of course encourages and supports her too, and both like doing that for others

I love Peridot’s short shorts and that she and Bismuth repaired the ships/ went a-tinkering together. It took me a bit to notice that it’s supposed to be shorts and not just her old outfit with starts instead tho

Voice of Reason!Connieis a gift that keeps on giving

[aceofstars16]

To Find A Home

I’m so happy I got to participate in the @petertonybigbang, it was so much fun! I got to work with @shoyzz-art and it was so fun to collaborate, and her art is so precious I love it! <3

I recommend reading the fic on Ao3 here: “To Find A Home” but for anyone that prefers tumblr I thought I’d post it here!

Summary: 

In an AU where all of Peter’s family are killed during the Stark Expo, Tony ends up taking in Peter as a means to improve his status with the press. It seems like a dream to live with Mr. Stark, but can the Stark mansion really be a true home for Peter?

Word Count:  5,918

Peter’s eyes couldn’t stop moving. There was too much to see. Panels on the wall that controlled lights, temperatures, music - just about anything - though Peter assumed there were some safety protocols in place to keep just anyone from controlling them. Fingerprint or voice activated probably. Maybe even both. But the gadgets weren’t the only intriguing things. The mansion itself was huge, it was bigger than his old apartment building with room to spare. It could fit so much and yet Peter knew only one person lived there. Scratch that, two. From now on this was going to be his home. And as exciting as that was, Peter couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. It was so big, so strange, so distant. Sure, it was grand but it didn’t feel much like a home.

“Well, here it is. Don’t touch anything. Your room is down that hall to the left.”

Glancing up at the man who had picked him up, Peter couldn’t help but feel even more nervous. “Is…is Mr. Stark here?”

The man – what was his name again? Smiley or something like that? Peter couldn’t remember - he had been in a dazed state for the past few days. Either way, the man just shrugged. “Yeah, he’s probably working. Don’t bug him, he’ll come up when he’s done. Now run along.”

More anxiety gripped Peter’s chest, but he took a deep breath and made himself walk forward. It would be okay, everyone had been telling him new homes took a while to get used to. But Peter never thought it would feel so lonely.

Walking down the hallway, Peter saw a door with a piece of paper stuck to it, three words written on it in sketchy handwriting. “The kid’s room.”

With another breath, Peter opened it. The room inside looked almost normal. A bed with plain blue sheets, a modern dresser, a side table, and a door which Peter assumed lead to a closet. There was a control panel inside as well, along with a few lamps and a few pieces of art, if you could call it that. They were mostly just splatters of paint but it was nice to have some color in the room.

Sitting on the bed, Peter looked around again, but there wasn’t much more to be seen. In short, there was nothing to keep him from reflecting on his current situation. The worry in his stomach was mixed with an unbelief that he was actually here. Every day since Mr. Stark had shown up at his halfway house and talked to him, Peter had to convince himself that it hadn’t been a dream. He could still picture the scene in his head and hear Mr. Stark’s words.

“Here’s the deal kid. I’m in a bit of a tight spot with the press, and the best way to get out of it is to show everyone I care about the people who got hurt at the Expo – and I do care and I am sorry – but money doesn’t seem to be enough. So, what I’m offering you is a place to live, with all living and school expenses paid. You’ll be able to get the best education - anything you need. All you have to do it come out with me to some events and show other people that I’m taking care of you. How does that sound?”

It had sounded fine to Peter, better than fine. It had been Tony Stark - Peter’s hero for years- offering to let Peter live with him. Why in the world would Peter say no? What better life could there be?

“One with my family back…” Peter whispered to himself, feeling that familiar emptiness he had come to know whenever he thought of his family.

Getting up, Peter dug through his suitcase until he found the picture he was looking for – a picture of his family. They were smiling and laughing, just happy…so happy. He pulled it to his chest and tried not to cry. He had to be strong. Things would get better if he was strong, right?

The next few days, Peter started understanding the schedule of the mansion, and that there was almost no pattern to it. He met Pepper Potts, learned that the driver’s name was Happy Hogan, and saw Mr. Stark sporadically throughout the day when he ventured from his workshop. That was something else Peter learned – he was not allowed in the workshop. The one room he really wanted to explore and he couldn’t even get near it.

And then there was the nanny. Miss Callaway. At first, she had seemed okay, cooking Peter’s meals, getting him up in the morning, and making sure he didn’t destroy things – though Peter didn’t know why anyone thought he was going to destroy anything. But then Peter got to know her and started realizing how she viewed him. Peter hadn’t done anything and yet she constantly narrowed her eyes at him and took away anything Mr. Stark had left for him, as if he didn’t deserve it. When she did she would mutter something about “spoiled brats” and then she would walk off and hide the toy who knew where. Peter looked for them later but he had a feeling she took them home with her and donated them to some needy kids…as if Peter wasn’t a needy kid himself.

That was only the start of it. Miss Callaway seemed to get worse as the days went on and Peter wished more than anything that he could simply leave the house to get away from her. But he wasn’t supposed to go back to school for a few weeks- something about a mourning period- so he was stuck. Some days he found a place he could hide from her, reading some physics book he found lying around – not that he understood it all, but it was better than being in the same room as her. Unfortunately, she seemed to be able to sniff out his spots and he had to rush off to find another one. He probably would’ve run out of places to hide if it wasn’t for the AI that seemed to run the whole house. Jarvis. He was one smart computer and seemed to notice Peter hiding, and occasionally he would speak, hinting at a new place for Peter to escape. Jarvis seemed to be the only person who cared about Peter. Though, maybe that wasn’t quite true. Mr. Stark wasn’t totally absent. Every once and a while he would eat with Peter, asking him how he was and what-not, but Peter could never bring himself to tell him about Miss Callaway. After all, Tony was busy, and Peter owed him a home. He didn’t want to complain about it, even if it was quite stressful. Not only that, but there was always a kind of rut between him and Mr. Stark, as if the guy wasn’t quite sure how to interact with a kid for prolonged periods of time…or maybe he was like that with people in general. Either way, Peter figured he would just have to wait it out until school started, then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

Tony was in over his head. What had he been thinking, taking in a kid? He didn’t know how to raise a child. His parents had barely even raised him – though really that fault fell more on his father than his mother. Nannies had been a big part of his life, which is why he got one for the kid. But even as he had been looking for one, a nagging guilt weighted on him. He had been raised by nannies and look how he had turned out. This kid deserved better than that. But then he rationalized that a nanny would be better than him, and it wasn’t like he would ignore the kid. Plus, he did all the research to make sure the nanny was a good one so it should be fine. But the kid still seemed…quiet, almost too quiet. Then again, he hadn’t been a very loud child to begin with. And so, Tony kept on with his work, saying hi to the kid, giving him some gifts, and making sure he was okay. It was for the best, right?

Wrong.

It was just another day. Tony was working on some ideas for using arc reactors as large-scale power sources when Jarvis casually reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since last night.

Leaning back in his chair, Tony rubbed his eyes and stretched before getting up. He didn’t know how long he had been working, but his body seemed to groan at him as he made his way out of the workshop and up the stairs.

Voices carried through the halls and a frown grew on Tony’s face. The house was usually pretty quiet, despite what time it was. Peter was quiet and the nanny didn’t do much talking either.

“This is not yours! You don’t touch things that aren’t yours!”

Tony found his feet moving faster. That didn’t sound good. Granted, he didn’t like people touching his things, but that was far too harsh for Peter, after all he was just a kid.

“I was only looking at it, I was just about to put it back.” Peter’s voice sounded so small compared to Miss Callaway’s.

Then Tony reached the top of the stairs and saw the scene in front of him.

The kid was holding a stuffed animal – one he had brought from his old home – clutching it to his chest. His eyes were averted to the floor. Miss Callaway stood above him, a book in her hand, a frown on her face.

“You brat! You are not to touch anything that isn’t yours.” Then she grabbed Peter’s stuffed animal and yanked it out of his hands. “I will keep this until you learn your lesson.”

“No! Not Freckles!” Panic lined Peter’s voice as he reached for the toy. And then it happened. A hand pulled back, a sharp smack. The nanny said something, but Tony couldn’t hear it through the anger that was now roaring in his ears.

“What do you think you are doing?!?” Tony yelled as he stomped into the room.

Peter took a few steps back and Miss Callaway seemed quite surprised to see Tony right there. “I was just…this child wasn’t following the rules so I-”

“You hit him!”

“But I-“

“Get out!”

“What no, I was just-“

“Get out of my house. NOW!”

Miss Callaway glared at Tony, but he was happy to see a little fear in her eyes. She turned on her heals to leave.

“Wait. The stuffed animal.”

She glared at him but shoved the animal at him. Then she walked away, muttering something about spoiled kids. Tony didn’t stop glaring until she was gone.

“Jarvis, make sure she can never get in here again.”

“Yes sir.”

Letting out a breath, Tony turned back to Peter, who was crouching behind a wall, fear glistening in his eyes.

“Hey, kid. It’s okay, she’s not coming back here.” Tony held out the stuffed bear. “Here, this is yours, right?”

Peter took a step out from behind the wall and tentatively took the bear, hugging it to his chest. He looked so terrified, which didn’t calm Tony’s anger any. He had let this happen, he hadn’t been paying enough attention and now this kid was paying the price.

“Peter,” Tony said, crouching down a little, hoping getting on the kid’s level might help him calm down some. “I’m sorry about that. About her…I thought she was an okay nanny but I guess I didn’t do my research well enough. Maybe I can find a better one, I’m sure there is-”

The fear on Peter’s face, which had been easing a little came back full force. Tony quickly lifted up his hand. “Okay, no more nannies or babysitters unless I personally know them, okay?”

After a moment, Peter nodded.

“Alright.” Tony nodded, not quite sure what to do now. He had rarely been alone with just Peter, and after that scene he felt even more unsure than before. How could he have let someone like that into his house? Never again.

“You hungry?” Tony asked, his empty stomach reminding him why he had come upstairs in the first place.

Peter nodded enthusiastically and Tony couldn’t hold back a small chuckle. “Come on then, you can help me throw together a few sandwiches.”

Tony wasn’t expecting Peter to help much, but the kid wasn’t a bad assistant, he laid out turkey and cheese quite well, and at the end of it all, he seemed quite pleased with his work.

Upon finishing his last sandwich, Tony got up to head downstairs, only to realize that if he went downstairs, the kid would be up here all by himself. Now, maybe that would be okay. After all, Peter didn’t seem like a very rambunctious kid, but it might be better if someone was around to keep an eye on him.

However, after a few calls, Tony found that Pepper was busy, Happy was visiting family, and Rhodey was out of the country. Seeing as Tony didn’t really have anyone else he trusted, he opted for the only other option he had.

“Hey kid, I have to do some work down in the lab. Why don’t you grab a book or something and you can read while I work?”

The look on the kid’s face was quite humorous. Wide eyes, a gaping mouth, and excitement lighting up his whole face. “Your lab?!? I can…I can see it?”

Tony didn’t quite know what to make of Peter’s excitement. It was…cute in a way but also very worrisome, excited kids could be a little…destructive. “Yup, but no touching. Reading only, okay?”

Peter nodded quickly. But then his nodding slowed down and he tilted his head a bit. “She took the book.”

“Huh?” It took a moment for Tony’s brain to connect what the kid was talking about. But then he realized Peter was talking about the nanny. She had walked out with a book, one of his books. “Well, I guess she broke her own rule about touching things she doesn’t own. But don’t worry, I can get another one, and I have plenty of other books you can read. Come on, we’ll find one that sounds good.”

It turned out that Peter liked science books. Tony wasn’t sure how much the kid actually understood, but he was sitting at a table happily flipping through a Chemistry book Tony hadn’t realized he owned – he got quite a few books from people, probably hoping he would read them and recommend them. People didn’t seem to realize Tony preferred to read on a screen - it made it easier to look at while working, and it didn’t pose any threat of burning up either - but he still kept most of the books. At least until he found a school or something that would take them.

And so, Peter read while Tony worked. Occasionally, Tony got the feeling someone was looking at him, but whenever he looked up, Peter still seemed to be studying the book intently. That is until Tony glanced up very quickly and saw Peter staring at him - or really, the work he was doing – only to look down again when he caught Tony’s eye.

A smirk grew on Tony’s face and he found it staying there as he worked – aware of Peter watching him, but only glancing at the kid a few times. Who would have guessed Tony would’ve fostered the one kid that actually seemed intrigued by science? Maybe he would fit in okay after all.

The school stood in front of Peter. It was big, though not as daunting when he compared it to the Stark mansion, but it was still intimidating. The past few weeks had been…nice. Sure, Mr. Stark didn’t always seem to know what he was doing - he still seemed awkward from time to time - but he was trying. He let Peter stay in his lab quite often, and as long as Peter didn’t actually touch anything, it was okay. That was harder than it sounded, but Peter forced himself to simply watch – which is what he ended up doing most of the time. Sure, books were nice, but actually seeing Tony Stark work was amazing. Peter didn’t always understand what he was doing, but it was intriguing. If he had a choice, he would stay at the mansion and watch Mr. Stark work, not bothering with school. Unfortunately, it wasn’t up to him. He was required to go to school, and so he was here.

There weren’t any other kids around – Happy had dropped him off early. Apparently, Mr. Stark hadn’t wanted him to be late – but now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do. There might be an office or something, but Peter didn’t know where it was, and Happy had already left. Grabbing the straps of his backpack – one of the many things he had picked out a few days earlier – he took a deep breath and started walking towards the doors of the school.

As he reached the doorway, however, Peter heard the crunch of tires on asphalt and he quickly spun around. A very nice car had just pulled up – one that looked eerily similar to the one Happy had drove him here in. The back door opened and a kid jumped out of the back seat. His black hair stuck up in unorderly spikes, as if it had been slicked down only to be ruffled up later.

“See you later, Bruno!” the kid called as he closed the door to the car and made his way towards the school. That’s when he spotted Peter. He stopped in his tracks and stared for a moment. Peter could feel his heart racing, he needed to do something. He had to make a good impression. But his body wasn’t cooperating, he was frozen and terrified.

Then the other boy smiled and he walked forward. “You must be new? I’m Harry.” He held out his hand and Peter hesitantly shook it.

“Peter…I’m Peter.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter. You get here early too? My dad always insists on it. He couldn’t bear having me be tardy and tarnish his reputation.” As he spoke, Harry rolled his eyes, but there was only amusement on his face. “Come on, I’ll show you around and we can figure out which class you’ll be in.”

All the worry that had been building up in Peter’s chest eased. Maybe he didn’t know Harry very well, but at least he wasn’t alone now. He wouldn’t he walking through all of this blindly.

“Thanks,” Peter said, following Harry inside the school. It was a pretty basic layout for a school, the entranceway was fairly wide and welcoming, with hallways branching off in opposite directions. The office was right in the middle.  

“No prob,” Harry said as he walked into the office and greeted the receptionist, filling her in on Peter’s situation.

“Ah yes, I remember Miss Fairday telling me about you,” the receptionist said, curiosity brimming in her eyes as she looked at Peter. “Is it true you live with-?”

“So what class am I in?” Peter asked, maybe a little too quickly. He hated interrupting people, but he didn’t exactly want everyone to know that he was living at the Stark mansion with Tony Stark himself. As a new kid, he would probably attract enough attention as it was, he really didn’t want any more reasons for people to stare at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter could see Harry giving him a confused look, but Peter tried not to focus on that.

“Let’s see…you are in Mr. Martin’s class. Classroom D.” The receptionist was still looking at Peter excitedly, but she seemed to be trying to keep her smile tame.

“Sweet!” Harry said, “I’m in Mr. Martin’s class too. You’ll love it! He’s super cool. If we hurry, you could even meet him before class starts.”

“Really?” Peter said, quite relieved that he would be able to stick by Harry to get though the first day.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, of course, we still have a few minutes before class starts. Follow me!”

Mr. Martin turned out to be a middle-aged man with slightly greying auburn hair and an air of calmness about him.

“Mr. Osborn, early as always I see.” The teacher welcomed Harry then caught sight of Peter. “And, you must be Mr. Parker.”

Peter froze at that. Parker. He hadn’t heard his last name in quite a while, and hearing it send a brick of pain slamming into his heart. Mr. Parker. The very name so many people had called his dad.

“Are you okay?”

Peter wasn’t sure who had asked it, but he tried to shake away the memories and the pain as he nodded his head. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” He quickly focused on the classroom, hoping to hide the tears that had started building up in his eyes. “Where should I sit?”

“You can sit with me,” Harry said, walking to one of the tables near the front of the room and placing his backpack down. Peter followed suit, pulling out a pencil and some paper. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, and was sure his newfound friend had a bazillion questions to ask him, but before he could ask any, the door opened and a few more students came in. Before long, the room was full and the bell had rung.

Mr. Martin introduced Peter – who wanted to hide when everyone looked at him - but somehow managed a wave and a smile, though how realistic it was, he didn’t know.

The next few hours went by quickly. Most of the subjects, Peter was oblivious about. He had missed quite a lot coming in during the middle of the semester. It was all a little overwhelming. But Mr. Martin must have seen the worry on his face because he quickly assured Peter that he would be given leeway in tests until he had caught up.

Before he knew it, lunch had arrived. Peter sat with Harry – seeing as he was the only person he knew. A few other people sat with them, though their names seemed to be lost in conversation and the noise of the cafeteria. And then it was back to the classroom, where time flew once again.

And then the school day was over and Peter was sitting on the steps of the school, watching other kids get picked up. Harry flopped down next to him – he had run off after the bell had rung and left Peter alone to wonder where he had gone.

“Where did you run off to?” Peter asked, not wanting to admit how hurt he was that his only possible friend had run off without saying anything.

Harry waved his hand. “It’s nothing, just something for my dad. What I’m wondering is, what’s your deal? Interrupting people in mid-sentence when your home is mentioned, freezing up when Mr. Martin said your name. What’s the deal?”

Peter kicked a pebble of gravel with his foot. “It’s nothing…I just…didn’t want to attract any more attention to myself, that’s all.”

Silence. Then, “What, your family own some big tech company or something?”

Peter’s head snapped up. “What? How did you…? I mean uh…I uh…”

A laugh escaped Harry’s mouth. “Dude, relax. You aren’t the only one with famous parents. I’m an Osborn, leading researchers in biological enhancements. My first day here, Mr. Martin was quite impressed. Granted, not all the kids knew about my family, but some did. It took me a while to find my groove, but it’s all cool now. You’ll find your place, just gotta be patient.”

It was nice to hear, and while it didn’t quell all of Peter’s worries, it helped. “You really think so?”

“Totally. So, what’s the Parker family’s big secret?”

Peter winced at the name again, but he tried not to think about it. “Nothing…I’m the only Parker left. It’s my umm…foster family that’s uh…”

“Difficult? Dangerous? Embarrassing?”

“Popular?” Peter said hesitantly. He didn’t really want to tell anyone, but in a way Harry was like him, a little bit in the shadow of his father’s company. “See I was kind of taken in by um…Tony Stark.” He said Tony’s name quickly and quietly, still unsure if he wanted to tell anyone, but Harry still heard.

“What?!? No way! You’re living with-” Harry seemed to realize how his exclamation had gained the attention of a few of their fellow students and he quickly lowered his voice. “-the Tony Stark? As in Iron Man himself?”

Heat rushed to Peter’s cheeks but he nodded slowly.

“Dude, no wonder you didn’t say anything. I mean, granted, being noticed isn’t terrible but man, you’d be the talk of the school if people knew!”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Peter said quickly.

“Ah, don’t worry, I won’t say anything but, man! That’s so cool!”

A car horn honked and Peter looked up, his cheeks growing even redder as he saw Happy parked in front of him, tapping his watch.

“I got to go! See you tomorrow…right?” Peter asked.

Harry nodded excitedly in agreement. “Totally!”

School was going well, and the mansion wasn’t quite as daunting as it had once been. Soon Peter got caught up in the rush of it all, not having time to think about anything but school. And Mr. Stark’s projects. While Peter never worked on them, he kept watching, wanting to understand what he was doing, but not wanting to overstep his boundaries. So, he worked on school while keeping an eye on Tony’s work as well, just in case. Peter also kept in touch with Harry, who soon became a close friend. Everything was going so well, and Peter actually felt happy. Maybe this would be okay.

Then everything fell apart.

It started when the social worker showed up. Peter usually wasn’t alone at the house. Scratch that, this was the only time he had been. Mr. Stark had a meeting and Happy had run out just for a moment to bring Tony a gadget that he had forgotten. And of course, that’s when the worker showed up.

Peter didn’t see what the problem was, but apparently it was a huge deal. That and the fact that a few months ago Peter had said the mansion didn’t always feel like a home. He tried to let them know that wasn’t the case anymore. Sure, it wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t bad either. But there was no changing any minds. Not even Mr. Stark’s money could fix it. Once word got out about the inquiry, Tony had to be careful, if he was found bribing the foster system just to keep a kid it might ruin his reputation even more.

Goodbyes were always hard, and Peter was dreading this one. But as it turned out, he didn’t need to worry. The worker came, picked him up and left without so much as a word from Mr. Stark -unless you counted the physics book he had given Peter that morning. It stung a little, which surprised Peter. As daunting as it had seemed at first, the mansion had become a home and Tony had become a…friend of sorts. Yes, there were still times when he really didn’t seem all there, but he did seem to care.

Don’t think about it. That’s what Peter told himself as he was driven away. This had been too good to be true anyway. Maybe this was for the best…

Or maybe not.

It might not have been so bad if Peter could still see Harry. But the foster family he was assigned to lived too far away from the school for him to go. That and the school itself was far too expensive. Peter had never realized Mr. Stark had enrolled him in such a high-end school. But of course he had, he was Tony Stark, nothing was too expensive for him. Except maybe losing his reputation for a kid.

No, don’t think like that. Peter told himself over and over again. But as the days went on, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it over and over again. Maybe if things weren’t so bad at his new house, it would be better, but some days the thought of returning to the Stark mansion was about the only thing that kept him going. Until one night he couldn’t take it anymore.

Peter’s back ached, his head throbbed and he knew he had a few bruises all over his body. And he was terrified. Each step, he winced, scared of making even the slightest bit of noise. He wished he could just sneak out the window, but he knew it was too high up. So, he had to go down the stairs.

The sound of a TV was playing from the front room. Barely daring to breathe, Peter poked his head around the corner and saw Mr. Oderon sleeping, a beer can in his hand. How him and his wife had ever qualified to foster anyone was a mystery. All they had done since Peter had arrived was yell at him and make him clean up everything. And if he didn’t? Peter rubbed his back. Well, they were good at hitting at least.

Clutching his small duffle bag – one of the things he had kept from Mr. Stark – Peter made his way to the outlet in the wall. Mr. Oderon’s cell phone was charging, as it always was. It was a risk – it could be tracked, but it was a risk Peter had to take. Carefully, he turned off the volume on the phone before unplugging it. It had a lock on it, but his foster parents were anything but subtle when it came to hiding the code from him.

Glancing at Mr. Oderon, Peter noted that he was still sleeping – he tended to sleep well on Fridays, but it was never wrong to be too careful. Forcing himself to breathe quietly and walk slowly, Peter make his way to the door. Then he carefully unlocked it, opened it, and slipped out.

The night air filled his lungs. It was cold, but it was better than the damp stench of the house. Peter forced himself to walk slowly until he was off the porch, then he reached the end of the driveway.

And then, he ran.

Gravel crunched under his feet. Within a few minutes, his lungs were aching from the cool air and exertion, but he kept running. He had to get away from that place, and he could only think of once place he would find safety.

The highway came into view as Peter slowed down, forced to ease his pace by the overwhelming tightness in his chest. Once he caught his breath, Peter looked around. For the first time he realized how alone he was, and how much danger he could be in.

Pulling out the phone, he pulled out a slip of paper and typed in the number.

It rang and Peter let out a breath.

But the tenseness in his shoulders grew as no one answered.

“Please, please, please,” he whispered.

No answer.

Peter tried again, and again. Then finally…

“I don’t want your freaking free whatever you are selling. STOP CALLING!”

“Happy!” Peter could’ve cried when he heard the voice of Mr. Stark’s driver.

There was a pause.

“Peter?”

“Yes, Happy, please, you have to pick me up! The family I’m with is terrible. Please I can’t stay here!”

More silence. “Let me call you back.”

“No Happy, please!”

The phone clicked off. Peter pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. That was it. Happy had just hung up on him. Now what was he going to do?

Sinking to his knees, Peter tried not to cry, he tried to hold it together. Maybe he could find someone else to take him in and listen to him, or…something.

Then the phone rang and Peter quickly answered it, not even checking the number.

“Happy?”

“No kid, it’s me.” Mr. Stark’s voice sounded over the phone and the tears Peter had been holding back fell.

“Look, I’m tracking your phone right now. I’ll be there soon, okay? Then you can fill me in on everything.”

“Okay.” Peter’s voice sounded small, even to him, but help was coming, he was going to be okay.

“Good.”

And once again, Peter was waiting. But this time he didn’t feel so helpless. Mr. Stark stayed on the line, talking about one of the projects he had been working on. It was hard to understand it without seeing it, but it was nice to think about something else.

Then a bright light caught Peter’s attention. A flare in the sky. No, not a flare. He knew that look, that sound. Mr. Stark had flown in a suit to come and get him.

The suit thumped to the ground and Mr. Stark stepped out.

A flurry of emotions washed over Peter, relief, fear, happiness. He couldn’t think strait, and before he knew it, he was racing towards him.

“Tony!” He flung himself at Mr. Stark, not even realizing he had called him by his first name. He was too overwhelmed to even think about it. All the pain and fear that had been building up over the past few weeks crashed over him. Tears fell down his cheeks as he clung to Tony.

Mr. Stark was stiff, probably shocked, but then his arms wrapped around Peter. They didn’t squeeze him tight, but they were firm, comforting.

“Hey kid, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Peter knew he was crying too much, but he couldn’t stop the tears. Weeks of hurt, of sore backs and living in fear came rushing out of him.

“I can’t go back there, I just can’t.” The words were broken up by sobs, but Peter had to say it, he had to let Tony know. Because if he didn’t, he would be sent back.

“You won’t. I’ll make sure you’re put with a good family.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but they only scared Peter more. “No I…I don’t…I don’t want another family. I want to come back and live with you.”

Silence. That was all Peter was met with. Fear built up in his chest, he didn’t want another chance for things to go wrong. “Please,” he whispered.

Silence, again. Then, “Alright kiddo…I’ll see what I can do.”

A few days later, Peter was hit with a sense of déjà vu as he was driven up to the Stark mansion again. It looked the same as before, but this time there was no dread, no second guessing. As soon as the car stopped, Peter jumped out and raced inside. It was still huge, but somehow it felt warmer, more welcoming.

“There he is.”

Tony was standing in the kitchen, smiling at Peter. Peter smiled back and for the first time in a long time, he felt at peace. He was safe now. Tony had downright adopted him. This was his home now, and no one could take him away from it ever again.

[delicatefury]

Saturday plan!

It’s only a little after one. I still have plenty of day ahead of me.

Okay, so painting yesterday didn’t happen. Both of my sibs were home so it became “Stew and Great British Baking Show” night instead. I might prime the canvas today, though. I’m thinks an off white background and then something in lilacs and light blues. Something I can hang in my room (there’s nothing on the walls right now except a crucifix, and having just that up reminds me of when we stayed in cloister for our overnight senior retreat in high school. I’m not gonna take it down. It’s mine and my grandparents gave it to me for first communion and I’ve hung it up in every room I’ve lived in since, but still).

Today is for a handful of things. I was gonna get Pokémon Sun, but I realized that it’s on the list I sent my mom for Christmas (I literally just screenshot-ed my “to buy later” list. Also included? New black heels, the cat returns, a new windshield, yarn (which-no-one-should-try-to-buy-me-ever), laptop, and roundtrip airfare for Hawaii, etc. So, not an actual Christmas list) so I need to tell her not to get it and survive the yearly “why buy yourself something frivilous when Christmas is coming and your family can get it for you?” Talk. Mom. Love ya. But I’ve been putting off getting this game since it came out. Getting it is my reward for finally getting my bar app in and paid for. 

Anyway, today is for cleaning and writing and baking. So, here’s my plan (Warning, I seem to have gone on a lot of tangents today):

Writing and Drawing at the LCS. I’m already here, so this’ll be as soon as I get off tumblr. Working on... whatever catches my fancy, actually. I’m gonna try my hand at drawing the pets again. I know there’s a million and a half pet-oriented comics, but... I wanna. To be honest, though, I’m probably gonna work on TDPL.

Back home: Laundry. I’ve gotta wash the dog’s bed-cover again. When I started putting it on last night, the cat got real interested and started doing that open-mouth sniff he does, usually before he pees on something. So, yeah, the foam bedding got socked in urine-destroyer and the cover got enzyme cleaner and a second wash. If he pees on it again, there’s a good chance I’m gonna owe my sister a $50 dog bed. I’ve also got to wash sweaters and my sheets (I’m getting stuffy. For some reason, probably how deeply I sleep, my room is the den for the animals. I wake up with two dogs bracketing my feet, a kitten by my stomach, and my cat watching from the dresser. Only the cat is mine). I also have to get my room cleaned. My suitcase pretty much just exploded when I got home and there are clothes everywhere.

Baking! My sister wants chocolate chip, her co-workers have requested snickerdoodles, and I want to make sugar cookies. I love Christmas season because I can just bake and bake and if there are too many cookies? Give them away! I did forget to get the cookie press from my mom while I was home for Thanksgiving (she’s told me not to buy one since she has two. A modern plastic one and an old copper one from my grandma. There are pros and cons for both. I still haven’t forgotten that Grandma’s chintzy little 60-year-old flour sifter is still the most reliable and efficient one I’ve ever used. My modern one sprung apart in my hands), so no buttery little Spritz cookies until she comes to visit in a week or so (another traditional German thing that I completely failed to realize is a traditional German thing while growing up. I just thought they were “old people” cookies since Grandma B (dad’s mom) always had a tin of them on hand). Also, I’m pretty sure I’m getting a springerle cookie press for Christmas, too. There was a woodworker selling intricate hand-made presses at the Christkinldmarkt on small business Saturday. They were so pretty and mom’s heard me gush about them before, and she asked me which of the designs I liked (the Christmas ones, duh. The trees with candles, the birds trailing ribbons, the nativity scene...) so I’m pretty confident. But I don’t have the press now, so no springerle cookies either.

Right, this is supposed to be my plan for the day, not Fury’s baking corner.

Anyway, Between laundry and baking, I intend to clean and knit. Part of the reason why I’m lazy at cleaning is because when I clean, I clean and I do it right and that takes a long time. (I can’t not. I’ll be vacuuming and I’ll see the lamp on the table looks dusty, so I’ll stop vacuuming and grab a dustcloth. Then I notice the table is also dusty. And so’s the baseboard. And what’s that spot on the wall? Did someone spill melted candle wax? And is that a dog-nose print on the window? And next thing you know it’s two hours later and the room’s still not vacuumed). 

So since I can never force myself to spend a whole day cleaning, I tend to let my sister do most of the upkeep since her dog does most of the shedding and instead I mainly do groceries, budget, bills, and general errand running. And it bothers me that my sister doesn’t clean right because I know she was taught the same way as me and the rest of our siblings. Dust first to knock it all to the floor. Then vacuum from the top of the house down. That way, again, the dust you, I don’t know, knock off the stairs settles in places you have yet to clean and not the place you just finished. Then you can mop and steam clean and carpet clean and do windows when there’s no stray dust and dirt to resettle on clean, wet surfaces. But she rarely dusts and she always vacuums the main floor before the upstairs. I can see the dirt settle behind her as she vacuums her way up the stairs.

So I’ll be dusting and vacuuming a second time today. I don’t straighten up. I deep clean. So you can get me to really clean about five or six times a year. Otherwise my life is just sorta... messy.

I was thinking about getting a haircut today. I really really need it (bangs officially reach my chin. I needed a haircut about three inches ago), but it’s already after one and I’d rather get the house in order while I’m feeling... twitchy. Also, Advent starts on Sunday and Thanksgiving was last week, so I’m gonna blast Christmas music while I get stuff done. Christmas music and cookies baking and knitting and video games... I love December. It’s right behind October for favorite month. (If I lived somewhere I could get decent snow in December, it might get bumped up, so instead it’s firmly behind October).

If I keep at it and don’t waste the day on my phone, I might even get a good chunk of my office cleaned and start on that painting tonight.

Heck, if I’m really ambitious, I’ll order my transcript and get my driving records request in for the bar application too.

Busy, busy day. And 11 hours till I go to bed. Let’s do this.

What was first up? oh yeah, writing and drawing.

[actualltr4sh]

alright its time for another of these

1. describe yourself. i’m 5′4. i’m goofy when i feel like it. i’m pretty sarcastic or condescending depending on the mood of the receiver. i’m smart, but not on paper. i’m creative. and i’m a hot young ebony. *finger guns* 

2. if you could go anywhere for a week all expenses paid where would it be? antigua & barbuda. it’s where my dad is from and i neeeeed to be an island girl for like two seconds pls.

3. do you have siblings? 4 sisters 1 brother.

4. what is your favorite constellation, why? do not have.

5. favorite color. black.

6. what kind of music do you listen to? i like R&B, early 2000′s or that shit that’s pretty mainstream but everybody swear is lowkey (SZA, Kelela, Daniel Caesar, whoever idk). i like pop punk or alternative a lot too. florence & the machine saved me. or modern baseball, the front bottoms. whatever.

7. favorite flower. (you can name as many as you want cause flowers are awesome) i like roses. i literally have one one my arm so.

8. if you could do magic, what is the first spell you would learn? probably an invisibility spell. it seems simple and like the first thing you should do lol.

9. favorite childhood memory. wow i’ve never thought about this. there was this one christmas where they let me open all my gifts at 12. i got my nintendo DS that year and i remember hearing ‘you are my rock’ by beyonce for the first time.

10. have you ever been cheated on? ish. it sucked. he broke my heart lol.

11. if you could describe your perfect room, what would it be? it’s currently my living room. it’s really cool. actually it’d be more perfect if there was more shit on the wall. but it’s a couch and a playstation and a big tv. it’s lit.

12. favorite animal. owls. ravens. crows. i’m terrified of birds though lmao.

13. what was the last photo you took of? a board in a classroom for this project.

14. do you believe in soul mates? absolutely. i’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few.

15. do you hang toilet paper over or under? i let that shit do what it do.

16. your go to place to eat & your favorite thing to get there. i love texas roadhouse but i try something new whenever i go. chilis i get cajun chicken pasta though. no tomatoes cus i’m not a crazy person.

17. do you believe everything happens for a reason? sometimes. i do think shit just be happening though.

18. guilty pressures? what?

19. favorite mythical creature, why? witches. although i want to believe they’re real. cus they be changing shit. and shit be needing change.

20. something most people don’t know about you. i can’t drive. i’m like a C+ driver lmfao. like we won’t DIE but i’m not who you suggest to do it.

21. where did you grow up, what was it like? detroit. straight as hell. coney slaps lmfao.

22. do you believe aliens exist? that would be narcissistic of me as a human to think that we are the ONLY species to exist.

23. what was your last google search? “how to poop better.” i bullshit you not LMFAOOOOO.

24. what did your last relationship teach you? BITCH. it taught me what i needed in a relationship. what i didn’t need. to put my healing first before anyone else. that love does not always conquer all. to never put a significant other before a friend. to give myself the same love & forgiveness i would forgive anyone else. bitch, i got nothing but lessons lmao.

25. would you relocate for love? i would do anything for love with my dumbass.

26. do you hold grudges or forgive easy? i forgive, not easy, but i forgive. i also don’t hold grudges, but i don’t forget.

27. favorite book. many. eleanor & park is a easy one to say though. i’d have to think forreal. 

28. do you consider yourself an extrovert or introvert? bitch i am introverted as hell. i go days without speaking to people lol.

29. have you ever kept a journal, do you now? i have kept a diary/journal religiously since i was 5.

30. top 5 favorite movies. paid in full, bring it on, halloween, stepbrothers, horrible bosses.

31. do you believe that everything happens for a reason?: didn’t i already answer this? sometimes, nigga.

32. what is your greatest fear? falling in the oven. or never being happy.

33. favorite alcoholic beverage. crown royal vanilla. or anything. i’m that friend lmao.

34. most embarrassing thing you’ve done. be born probably.

35. do you believe in ghosts? all of that.

36. what is the best and worst part of your personality? i make a joke out of everything. the good shit, the bad shit. i’m making fun of it.

37. should you split the dinner bill? if y’all struggling, sure. if you feel like it, sure. money doesn’t matter to me honestly idc lmfao.

38. are you a good liar? ish. i try not to tbh because i don’t really know if i can pull it off lol.

39. what keeps you up at night? i be knocked out forreal LMFAO but anxiety. if i’m not asleep i’m panicking. about.. anything.

40. would you rather go without your phone or music? i truly only use my phone for music. give me an ipod i swear i’d be good.

41. do you believe in god? i believe so. i think so. maybe. yes. i’m the worst christian LMFAO

42. how do you relax when frustrated? i don’t. i have anxiety. jk. ish. lmfaooo. i shower. i write. i watch tv. i sleep. i cook.

43. what’s something that offends you? hearing people talk about mental illnesses in a way that doesn’t accurately depict the experience.

44. favorite food nachOOOOOS

45. if you were on a 10 hour flight and could sit and talk to any person the entire time, who would it be? my ex :/ he was really my best friend LMAO

46. when do you feel the most confident? lowkey, when i’m naked. i got abs and my titties sit. lmfaoooo

47. what do you do on your free time? sleep or watch tv or write.

48. is there anyone who has completely lost your respect i be looking at people differently but i don’t think i don’t respect anyone.

49. have you ever broken someone’s heart? doubtful.

50. did/do you play sports in school? yeah lol i cheered and did gymnastics.

51. when are you happiest? writing or escaping with a tv show.

52. coffee or tea? CAFFEINE ME PLS!

53. what is one possession you own you wouldn’t want to live without? as of late, my camera. i love my baby.

54. what is the first thing you notice about a person? idk. haven’t met anybody new lately.

55. what is your favorite season, why? spring or fall. spring is rainy, fall is gloomy.

56. what makes you laugh? trauma.

57. are you a clean or messy person? messy normally, clean if i’m manic or suddenly tryna shape my shit up.

58. what is important for a successful relationship? COMMUNICATION.

59. what was your upcoming like? fine. rocky. confusing. okay i guess though.

60. favorite holiday? halloween :)

61. what is the first thing you’d do if you won the lottery? pay off my all my debt. student. medical bills. all of it. i don’t wanna owe shit.

62. what’s the best pizza topping combination? bacon and ham is all i get.

63. favorite outdoor activity. going back inside, the fuck lmfaoooo.

64. how are you? honestly. i’m drunk right now so.

65. would you rather go camping in the woods or stay at a beach resort? i hate outside in general. but beaches. less bugs.

66. what is the most beautiful thing in nature? the sun/moon.

67. favorite type of candy? sour patches watermelon or swedish fish or carmello chocolate bars.

68. if your life was a book, what would be the title? ‘pieces in print’

69. what movie quotes do you use of a regular bases? oh god, do i use any?the first thing i thought of was “cha feel? cha definitely feel.” from 21 jumpstreet and i rarely even say that lol.

70. what was cool when you were young but not cool now? webkinz.

71. what’s the craziest conversation you have ever eves dropped on? i don’t remember her words exactly but something about fucking a monkey my freshman year of highschool.

72. what’s the most interesting documentary you’ve ever watched? they’re all pretty interesting. that abducted in plain sight shit was DUMB tho.

73. what’s the worst hairstyle you’ve had? bangs in the 7th grade like anybody lmao.

74. what do you like to cook? all of it. i love cooking!

75. what’s the coolest animal you’ve seen in the wild? ...in the wild? i saw a rat in the street once.

76. what’s the funniest tv show you’ve ever seen?: bitch this is hard. schitts creek. arrested development. the office. misfits. idk tv is funny as hell.

77. do you usually follow your heart or your head? both. once someone told me i made calculated risks and i will never forget it. if i want to do something i WILL do it. but before i do it i think about the best, worst, and most realistic case scenario lmao.

78. what is your favorite quote? “if you are neutral in times of oppresion you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

79. what’s the weirdest crush you have ever had? my after school teacher in 5th grade. he actually reminds me of jim halpert now that i think about it. makes sense.

80. what’s your love language? quality time and words of affirmation. so literally hang out with me and tell me you love me.

81. do you ever feel alone? yeah. this time last year was the worst of it. i don’t feel like that too much anymore though.

82. ever been bullied? yes nigga. shit sucks.

83. are you usually early or late? on time or late. i can’t be early for the life of me you asking for too much lmfao.

84. what kind of art do you enjoy most? writing. poetry. stories. you know.

85. what do you wish you knew more about? myself.

[tyrantisterror]

The ATOM Create A Kaiju Contest

All fifty ATOM Kaiju files are now up on Horror Flora for the world to see.  You can now look at the designs, stats, and brief bios of the fifty-some kaiju that will appear in my novel-in-progress, The Atomic Time of Monsters.   But the event that gives the novel its name – the titular atomic time period – has far, far more than that.  In fact, while only fifty or so monsters appear in the novel itself, at least six times that number will be running around just outside the pages – the unseen kaiju of ATOM.  But I’ll level with you – I can draw kaiju for days, and have literally done so since about mid-December 2016, but I’ll never be able to draw up 300+ solid kaiju concepts.  I mean, ok, maybe if I keep at it till I die, but I have a lot of other stuff I want/need to do.  So that’s where this contest comes in.

Like some of the best fiction, I’ve left a tantalizing gap in my story for other writers to fill in.  Like a narcissist, I’m hoping people would want to fill in their gap.  There are literally dozens if not hundreds of monsters left unseen – how would you like to give them a face?

THE RULES:

1.  You may create and submit up to FIVE different kaiju for the contest.  They must be your own creations – no plagiarism will be tolerated.  You can cheekily reference pre-existing monsters though – we all know the 50+ canonical monsters in ATOM do.

2.  The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest  - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories.  It’s more gratifying to my ego of a fun thought experiment that way.

3. The kaiju must fit the design aesthetics, story themes, and overall tone of ATOM's kaiju. They should feel like B movie monsters from 1950's/60's pop culture.  The better they match this aesthetic, more likely you will win the contest.

4. The kaiju must also fit the setting ATOM.  Remember that “kaiju” has a story specific definition beyond being just a big animal, that most dinosaurs didn’t exist in ATOM’s world (i.e. no feathery t.rexes), and that the alien fauna of Mars, Venus, and the various made up planets follow very specific body plans.  The Atomic Time of Monsters starts in 1954 and ends in 1968 – your entry has to take place in that rough time frame.  I plan on posting some ATOM Bonus Files between now and the deadline that explain aspects of the setting in more detail.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. What would be the point of having another fire-breathing t.rex monster?  The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. The kaiju must be independent of the main plot of ATOM - not "Tyrantis's long lost evil brother who's the strongest kaiju in the world". These should be to Tyrantis's story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla's movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

7. Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with.

The Deadline for this contest is MARCH 16, 2017.  You have roughly two months to work on your submission(s).  To enter you just have to make me aware of your submission - tag me in a tumblr post, send me a message, etc.  It can be on tumblr or on another website - so long as it exists and I can access it, it works.  It

But what about the prizes, you ask?  Well, I’ll put that information (along with some other rambling suggestions and tips) after the cut, but the biggest prize will be making a whole shitload of weird retro kaiju.

Ok, so: PRIZES, PRIZES, PRI-ZIZZES!

RUNNER UP PRIZES:  I will sketch every kaiju entered in the contest, and compile them all in a great big post with a few sentences of commentary on each one.  Every person who enters the contest gets this prize.

THE TOP 5 WINNERS: I will fully illustrate my top 5* favorite kaiju entries and publish them – WITH CREDIT – on HorrorFlora.com as ATOM Bonus Files.  This means they will be considered SEMI-CANONICAL in ATOM’s lore – you will retain rights over your creation, of course, but they’ll also be considered part of the ATOM expanded universe.  *Note: I may increase or decrease this number depending on how many entries the contest gets, or if I just love a crap load more monster than just 5.

THE GOLD MEDAL WINNER: The creator of the winning entry will not only get the prizes from the previous tiers, but will also get to choose one movie for me to liveblog.  It can be any movie – good or bad – so long as 1. I can legally view it in the United States and 2. I don’t have to go into a porno shop to legally view it (thank glarnbodin for bringing up this possibility when I was brainstorming prizes).

TIPS

I’ve got a few tips, but one is so important it needs to be more than a bullet point.  The most important tip for this contest is as follows: I’m looking for Beeruses, not Brolys.

What do I mean by that?  Well, firstly, you need to watch Dragon Ball Z.  Secondly, the hit anime Dragon Ball Z had several non-canonical movies made by people who weren’t the main creator/writer of the manga the anime was based off of.  These movies had to fit in the gaps of the original story, and theoretically hoped to add something new and worthwhile to the story.  Most of them did not succeed.

Broly is the main villain of three of these movies, and basically was defined purely in relation to the main characters: he was like the hero, Goku, except bigger, more powerful than anyone else, and evil.  He didn’t really have a strong motivation, or any personality at all beyond “hates everything and loves destroying stuff”.  He was only defined by his ridiculously immense strength and how violent he was.  Overall, he contributed very little, didn’t fit the tone of the larger story, and yet was deeply connected too/defined by the main plot – the opposite of what my contest rules ask for.

By contrast, Lord Beerus, a villain introduced in a later movie, brought a lot more to the table.  He fit well within the canonical world of the story, both in design and his over the top yet complex personality (unlike Broly, Beerus has many solid motivations and a many dimensions to his character).  While he was somewhat connected to the plot of the overall story, he was also fairly distant – he had never met the main character before, and neither one of them knew much about the other.  The story of their conflict was similar to previous stories in Dragon Ball Z, and yet had several twists that made it feel utterly unique.  Beerus contributed a lot to the world and cast dynamics of the story, fit in with its tone, and was disconnected enough to what came before to feel like he was adding something new.  The only reason he’s not a shining example of what I’m going for (well, other than him not being a kaiju) is that he was made up by the original creator of Dragon Ball Z.

But still, the point stands: I’m looking for Beeruses, not Brolys.

In fact, I had to change my original pitch for this contest because of this rule.  Originally I thought of this as the “Lost Projects of ATOM” – making the ATOM equivalents of weird, cut kaiju from the Godzilla series.  But while I was thinking of oddities like Mogu and Majin Tuol, I realized most people would think of characters like Bagan – the Brolys of the Godzilla world.  This is why one of the rules of the contest is that the kaiju have to be separated from Tyrantis’s story in ATOM – if your monster isn’t a foe of Tyrantis, there’s less of a risk of them taking things to Broly style “I made a monster that’s bigger and meaner version of your monster” antics.

So one final time:  Beeruses, not Brolys.

Now, the other tips:

• ATOM’s aesthetics are mainly drawn from pop culture of the 1950’s and 60’s.  The obvious main inspiration would be the giant monster movies of that time period – the Showa Godzilla movies, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, Them!,  The Deadly Mantis, etc. – but other sci-fi and horror stories of that time period apply as well.  This includes movies that were rereleased in this decade – King Kong was made in the 30’s, but was rereleased in theaters in the 50’s to great success – as well as other forms of media published at the time, like comic books, novels, and even some songs.  Silver Age monster comics from Marvel, like Tales to Astonish and other great titles by Jack Kirby, are just as entwined in ATOM’s DNA as Godzilla. • You can also work some modern design sensibilities here and there.  Tyrantis’s overbite is far more common in dinosaur art from the 70’s and 80’s, while creatures like Pathogen and the Writhing Flesh owe a lot to body horror movies of the 80’s and video games like Resident Evil.  These elements shouldn’t be the PRIMARY aesthetic, however – the 50’s/60’s vibe is still more important to capture. • ATOM works on Hollywood Science and, even more than that, child logic.  Scientific accuracy is far from a priority – science is something ATOM uses occasionally for flavor, rather than an essential ingredient.  Feel free to get weird, silly, and stupid to an extent . • Kaiju in ATOM are always characters and need to be expressive in some way.  That’s important to the story’s theme – even the most wicked monsters in the story (with one possible exception) have a sympathetic side to them, and they need to be able to show it. • If you looked closely at the rules, you’ll notice an inherent contradiction: entries will be judged both in how they fit the story, and paradoxically in how they add something new to it.  This might feel like a bit of give and take – a retrosaur would definitely fit, but might feel redundant, while, say, a giant lion might add something new but feel out of place.  Don’t be scared to embrace one of the two at the expense of the other: you can make up to five entries to hedge your bets, and you might actually do a lot better focusing on some of the required elements anyway.

You can also feel free to adapt some monster concepts I failed to make work, including (but not limited to - check my old DA gallery or my thirty day kaiju challenges on my art tumblr for more):

Giant grasshoppers

Giant rabbits

A Sabre Tooth Tiger Monster

Basically any amphibians

Basically any birds

A giant gila monster

Giant shrews

Most mammals really

Finally, here are some links to things that helped inspire ATOM’s aesthetic, so they may inspire you in turn:

[saetorimedia]

For the 14th time CAMERA JAPAN brings Japan a bit closer with not only movies but also a small taste of Japanese culture. This year’s theme was Youth because with the rapidly ageing population and low birth rate some might wonder what the Youth is doing. No worries though, because Camera Japan has showed us they are doing a great job and need to be heard more!

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Before going to this event a difficult decision has to be made, which movies are you going to see? So many interesting choices and not enough time, especially if you can’t attend every day. More people had this problem but sometimes you just have to make those choices and deal with it. Luckily you can make this choice before travelling to Lantaren Venster because the schedule was online for quite some time already. A thing you noticed when you walk in is that the atmosphere is completely different from your regular cinema. Quite some people were regular filmfestivals visitors and it’s no surprise why, people are here for the movies and not for the popcorn.

Although people didn’t eat popcorn there were plenty of ways to fill your tummy between all the movies, lectures and workshops. Lantaren Venster had a small restaurant and there was a small friendly Japanese themed market filled with taiyaki, sushi and delicious cake rolls. You knew exactly when movies ended, it got crowded and people had to line up for food. So be smart and buy your treat inbetween movies. Talking about movies, what’s a filmfestival review without reviewing a few movies? We went to 12 Suicidal Teens, Penguin Highway, I was born but.. and Short Shorts.

12 Suicidal Teens Before the movie started the audience was greeted by a CJ staff member (which gives a very personal touch) with a short introduction: “This is one of the most scary titles CJ have ever showed but it is not that scary as you might think. Don’t let the title scare you.” This movie is about 12 teenagers gathering in an abandoned hospital to commit suicide but they stumble upon a dead body of a boy. This makes a total of 13 teenagers attending the gathering while that wasn’t the plan. Together they have to figure out what’s going on and who among them might be the murder before continuing their original plan. In almost 2 hours you’ll learn the reasons why they want to commite suicide, it lets you think together with the main characters to solve the mystery with some twists and you’ll learn that we all are in a way connected behind our masks. Like the staff member said, it wasn’t scary but it can be an emotional trigger for those who are sensitive like me, yet I really enjoyed the movie and its twists (especially the thing at the end) Score: 7.5/10

Penguin Highway My mouth went open from astonishment when I heard this movie was sold out and so were the CJ staff members: “We knew that cats are popular but penguins are too!” There also was an introduction given about Studio Colorido, a promosing new studio that might be on the same level as Studio Ghibli soon so we have to keep an eye on them. I can understand why they mentioned that, the animation is smooth and pretty to look at. But what is this movie about then? Well, one day, a group of penguins appeared in fourth-grader Aoyama’s neigbourhood. Everyone notices them and despite this rare occurance they are very cute. Aoyama is young, boob-obsessed whizz-kid. and wants to solve this mystery with rigorous scientific methods and principles. But what he doesn’t know is that he is in for a much larger adventure involving penguin eating monsters and a mysterious woman (which is his dentist he’s in love with). Overall the movie is very good, animation and soundtrack is of very good quality and there is a lot of modern humor in it. But I still have no idea what’s going despite that the mystery is solved so I guess you have to have a lot of fantasy… Score: 8.0/10

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Lecture: 47 ronin and expositions Need a break from the movies? Luckily there were many other activities and one of them was a lecture about the famous 47 ronin story. The lecture started with a short summary of the story which then turned into an analysis of different version of the story. Some of those versions got translated into books and movies and we got to see a few examples. I was amazed by how many versions there were but sadly not all could be addressed since time was short. After the lecture I visited the 2 expositions which were spread through the building in places were a lot of people walk by. The Cosplay is Art exhibition wasn’t my cup of tea, maybe because I have seen too many cosplay photography, it just didn’t spark me. On the other hand the A Copy of Truth exhibition by Jelle Hooks was really good. The photos show alienated youths who want to stand out. Despite the photos being taken in black/white you could feel the colour, every teenager had their own story. His book was for sale during the event and he also still sells them on his website if you’re interested. What I did miss by both exhibitions was some kind of introduction or name of the work. You just walked by, took a quick look and that was it. They also had the popular MangaKissa where you can sit and read some manga’s and disconnect from the event for a little while and they also had a few art exhibitions and workshops. For the workshops you had to buy tickets seperately in advance. They had an origami workshop on friday, a bento workshop on Saturday and kids day and film brunch on Sunday. We’ve not seen kids day so packed however.

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  I was born but.. This black and white silent movie from 1932 by Yasujiro Ozu which was accompanied by a quartet who played music live to fit the movie. No matter how much I liked the music I felt like it didn’t really match the movie at all and I was missing some fun sound effects. But I enjoyed both a lot

The Yoshi family has just moved to the Tokyo suburbs, close to where the father Kennosuke’s (Tatsuo Saitō) direct boss, Iwasaki (Takeshi Sakamoto), is staying. Kennosuke’s two young sons Keiji and Ryoichi (Tomio Aoki and Hideo Sugawara) are supposed to be going to school, but owing to the threats of a group of neighborhood and school bullies, they decide to play truant. After the teacher speaks to their father, Keiji and Ryoichi have no choice but to go to school. They attempt to eat sparrow’s eggs to get stronger so that they can get back at the boys, but an older delivery boy Kozou (Shoichi Kofujita) decides to help them out to threaten the bullies, and they emerge as the top dogs amongst the gang.

One of the neighborhood kids is Taro (Seiichi Kato), whose father is Iwasaki himself. The boys argue amongst themselves who has the most powerful father. Not long after, they visit Taro’s home, where the office workers have gathered under Iwasaki, who screens some home movies for the amusement of the gathering. The two brothers witness on film how their father, who to them is stern and whom they look up to, plays the buffoon before his colleagues and boss.

Humiliated, they go home and decide that their father isn’t such an important person after all. They throw a massive tantrum, and confront their father asking him why he has to grovel under Taro’s father. Kennosuke answers that Taro’s father is richer and holds a higher position than he does. Dissatisfied with this answer, the two decide to hold a hunger strike. Ryoichi gets a spanking from his father, but after the children have gone to bed, the father confides in the wife that he does not enjoy doing what he does. Both wish for a better future for their children.

The next day, the children attempt a hunger strike during breakfast, but succumb to a dish of onigiri. Kennosuke manages a reconciliation with them. The children say they would like to be a lieutenant general and a general respectively. On their way to school, they see Taro’s father in a car, and they urge their father to go up and greet him. As Kennosuke takes a convenient car ride to work, the brothers walk to school with Taro and the rest of the gang. Score: 7.0/10

  Short Shorts Film Festival & Asia As the titel depicts, this was a lot of shorts. it had movies of around 20 minutes or less. I’ll summorize them by movie.

Beard and Raincoat by YAWATA Kimi, 2018, 12 min This…generally weird. as the name predicts. It was about a girl who had a beard fetish and the bearded guy who had a raincoat fetish. The bearded guy however was the brother of the girls boyfriend who ended up finding out and they ran away together in the end but I’m not sure how it ended because it was kind of weird. Score: 5.0/10

MOON RABBIT by HO Kae, 2018, 15 min I feel like this movie wasn’t totally honest about the end.. I felt really conflicted in the end. The story starts with a mother coming to her family house with her two half japanese half american kids. The older brother and his cousin hang out and the young girl wants to hang out too while her mom tells her father that she and her husband broke up. The young girl comes out with her hair all messy and a shocked face. Ending in her telling her mom that her brother told her the Moon Rabbit doesn’t excist. Score: 6.0/10

No One But I Know by KAMIJO Daisuke, 2019, 25 min This movie really looks promising, It’s about a boy who’s stepdad gets murdered and his mother gets charged with it. In the end, he tried to protect his mother but fails in the end and protects the killer instead. Score: 8.0/10

What Meiling Decided by KUJIRAOKA Hironori, 25 min This had a good start but a weird ending, I’m interested into this becoming a full on movie. Score: 7.0/10

Lovers and Coffee by SHIRAO Ayuka, 2018, 5 min This was a really short one, playing in the future where coffee is banned from the world. A couple smuggles it and drinks one cup each month. However the worst ever cop shows up and leaves without making an arrest… It was funny and dumb at the same time Score: 5.0/10

Blue Hands by YAMANAKA Yu, 2019, 20 min I absolutely loved this, Blue hands is about a son talking about his father who carried on his fathers legacy with an indigo dying company. His hands, over time have stained the indigo blue. It tells the story of how his father lost his wife to death, then almost his company due to other companies and his son due to neglect and endangerment. But it shows the fathers pure love for his son and the sons pure love for the father. It was absolutely beautiful and I saw many people around me wipe away their tears.  It was shot perfectly and would love to see it again. Score: 10/10

Camera Japan This event will hold their 15th anniversary next year and every year they’re looking for volunteers. The most important thing when you apply for a volunteer is to remember to stay professional, follow the guidelines and make sure every visitor has a great experience. The group of volunteers every year is amazing and being part of such a group is truly an honor. If you would be interested in joining the coming year make sure to continue checking out their website and facebook page so you can be in time and sign up.

  For the 14th time @CAMERAJAPAN brings Japan a bit closer with not only movies but also a small taste of Japanese culture. This year's theme was Youth because with the rapidly ageing population and low birth rate some might wonder what the Youth is doing. No worries though, because Camera Japan has showed us they are doing a great job and need to be heard more! Read our guest and volunteer expierence here! For the 14th time CAMERA JAPAN brings Japan a bit closer with not only movies but also a small taste of Japanese culture.

[beverlyfdole]

How to make good friends. Secrets from the research…

If “other people matter” is the secret to happiness; then making and keeping good friends is the strategy we all need to follow.

Happiness is very much about the quality (and, to some extent, the quantity) or our relationships.

And this research, therefore, is a must read for those wanting a happier (and healthier) life…

via Eric Barker

Forget pandas. Close friends are the real endangered species these days.

That’s a painful thing. And I don’t mean “sad-painful.” I mean “broken-arm-painful.” At least that’s how your brain sees it. Your grey matter experiences social pain the exact same way it does physical pain. So much so that Tylenol actually relieves feelings of rejection.

From The Neuroscience of Human Relationships:

The overlap of neuroanatomical processes involved in physical and social pain highlights the conservation of preexisting structures for later-evolving functions. The cingulate becomes activated when we, or those we love, experience physical pain as well as when we experience social exclusion (Davis et al., 1997; Koyama et al., 1998; Lenz et al., 1998; Panksepp, 2003b). The common underlying neurobiology of physical and social pain may help us to understand why the quality of our relationships has such a profound effect on our physical health (Robles & Kiecolt-Glaser, 2003). It also helps to explain why painkillers such as acetaminophen decrease anterior cingulate activation as well as the negative emotional impact of social rejection (Petrovic et al., 2002; DeWall et al., 2010).

A hospital noticed that a lot of child patients were dying. So they limited the tykes contact with others to protect the kids from catching anything. And the result was more children dying. When the kids were given extra social contact, that’s when the situation improved.

Sometimes a lack of affection can be worse than the danger of infection.

From The Neuroscience of Human Relationships:

In response to a high number of deaths, physicians attempted to keep the children safe from infectious diseases by separating them from one another and ordering that their handling be kept to a minimum. Yet they still died at such alarming rates that admission forms and death certificates were signed at intake for the sake of efficiency. It was not until the children were held, rocked, and allowed to interact with one another that their survival rate improved (Blum, 2002).

We need relationships. Critically. We are social animals at our core. But in the modern era we often don’t act like it. And we don’t get clear answers on how to improve the situation.

In many cases we make mistakes that prevent us from really connecting with others and end up with lukewarm friendships but no idea how to deepen them. Time to fix that.

Let’s get to it…

Put The “Ow!” In Hours

Aristotle said, “The desire for friendship comes quickly. Friendship does not.” And Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Friendship requires more time than poor busy men can usually command.”

And a recent study seems to back that up. Looks like making close friends takes a lot of time:

Logistic regressions offered 3-point estimates: 94 hr when acquaintances become casual friends, 164 hr when casual friends become friends, and 219 hr when friends become good/best friends. These numbers are likely conservative estimates due to the inclusion of both closed system and chosen relationships and due to the retrospective nature of the study.

With numbers like that, it’s amazing we have any friends at all. But the reason it takes that long is because we’re doing friendship wrong. We’re all scared and worried and it takes us a long time to really open up.

But what if you suddenly became fearless? Could you make a close friend in less than 219 hours?

Yeah. You could do it in 45 minutes.

From How to Have a Good Day: Harness the Power of Behavioral Science to Transform Your Working Life:

On a scale of 1 to 7, hundreds of volunteers rated their “deepest” relationship as a 4.65 for closeness. After talking about their answers to personal questions for forty-five minutes, random pairs rated their closeness as 3.82 – not all that much lower.

It’s called “reciprocal disclosure.” Arthur Aron created bonds between people that could last a lifetime with just 36 questions. The results were so powerful two study subjects subsequently got married.

I can hear people screaming right now: JUST GIMME THE QUESTIONS! GIMME THE QUESTIONS! GIMME!

Fine, fine. They’re here. But that’s not the point. Those questions aren’t magical. Everybody always says we need to listen, listen, listen to improve relationships. And there’s a reason for that: most of us are horrible listeners.

But it’s still only half the battle. Nobody ever made a good friend by interrogating people or turning a friendly meeting into a job interview.

We need to ask deep questions. And give our own deep responses. You gotta get personal. And then you need to escalate it and go deeper and get more personal. Hopes, dreams, feelings, regrets, memories.

Small talk isn’t neutral. Research shows it can actually harm friendships:

Notably, small talk predicted a reduction in friendship closeness from 6 weeks to 9 weeks. That is, friendships engaging in small talk become less close over time. These findings add another element to Dunbar’s (1996) assertion that time is a constraint to friendship development; namely, what people do with their time together uniquely explains the development of friendship closeness.

You gotta ask tough questions and give serious answers. It’s “Truth or Dare” — with no dares. If you feel uncomfortable, you’re doing it right. And it makes most of us feel very uncomfortable. And that’s why we need 219 hours to finally get around to it.

I know, you’re scared of being judged. Don’t be. You want to be judged. How close can you feel to people who don’t understand you at all? Studies show when we’re judgeable we’re happier and live more authentic lives.

From No One Understands You and What to Do About It:

Research consistently shows that people who are more judgeable are psychologically better adjusted—they are happier; are more satisfied with their personal and professional lives; have more lasting, positive relationships; and have a greater sense of purpose. They feel able to live more authentically and are more confident in their self-knowledge. This makes a lot of sense. If people are seeing you the way you see yourself, then you aren’t getting all the unsettling, self-doubt-inducing feedback that the chronically misunderstood have to endure. Life is simply easier and more rewarding when people “get you” and provide you with the opportunities and support that are a good fit for you.

By the way, when I walk through the automatic doors at the grocery store sometimes I pretend I’m opening them using The Force — just like I did when I was 8. Vulnerable me does silly things. Judge away.

Open up. Be vulnerable. Don’t be afraid. Unless you have thousands of hours to spare.

(To learn more about the science of a successful life, check out my bestselling book here.)

Alright, you’re putting yourself out there. And that’s something that can help everyone improve their friendships. But what is a strategy tailored for you that will take your friendships to the next level?

…keep reading the full & original article HERE

[thephoblographer]

All images by Michelle Groskopf. Used with permission,

Photographer Michelle Groskonpf is a fine art street photographer that shoots in a style and subject matter that you don’t really see anywhere else. The LA based artist says that she used to be a “creeper” but these days finds happiness in the small moments of intimacy. That’s very evident by her Instagram and she’s now on a mission to make her photos into a book. Michelle’s book is called Sentimental, and she likes to bill it as more of a monograph than a coffee table book. Michelle got her start in photography during some troubling times in her teenage years. And like many others, she found a way to creatively express herself through fine art photography. Her style combines street portraiture with bright flash that brings us all the details of a person’s face. Michelle believes that everyone, in their own way, is both important and urgent.

Phoblographer: Talk to us about how you got into photography.

Michelle: My early teenage years were a mess. I was bullied a lot, I was restless and would spend a lot of time skipping class reading by my locker. My grades dropped and there were threats of suspension. What do you give a young outsider to help draw them back in? To help make them present. It was my high school art teacher that turned things around for me. She taught me all about photography and film. Talked to me about my ideas and gave me a platform in which to express myself and explore the world. I’ve carried that with me ever since. I owe the direction of my life to her really. I do my best to continue the circle by teaching underprivileged kids photography through organizations like The Lucie Foundation, Youth Arts and EduCare. Photography as an artistic pursuit is a powerful tool for engaging the world and the self.

Phoblographer: What made you want to get into street photography?

Michelle: I shot a lot of work in NY without telling anyone. NY is such a judgmental place that my private photography practice gave me a break from the rest of my life. It was something I did just for me. All those years of shooting without really sharing allowed me to develop a discipline and my approach and style without outside influence. I feel very fortunate for having had that period of growth and privacy. Now of course I tend to overshare! Ha. But those early years were crucial to building my love for shooting in the street.

“I was a creeper initially and would push myself to seek and find small stories developing on the street.”

Phoblographer: Your work seems to draw influence from Bruce Gilden in some ways and it seems like you even use his style of working except that you’re mostly acting with consent. Can you talk to us about your influences?

Michelle: I studied filmmaking for a large chunk of my life and then went on to produce and work as a graduate film production professor in NY. Film was my introduction to image making, not photography. I’m completely self taught and spent very little time learning about the history of photography. Bruce would be very upset to hear that! He stresses the importance of knowing the craft through your place in it. I disagree. I’m more like a wild animal in that I believe in order to truly express yourself you need to ignore traditional influences. My aesthetic comes from early cinematography, especially Orson Welles’ use of camera to build caricature and personality. I loved the early screwball comedies and the masterful work of Billy Wilder and Ernst Lubitsch. I also credit my family and my suburban Jewish upbringing for building my language. Big hair, big nails, colors, teenagedom and awkwardness.

There is a ton of crossover in life and work. People tend to speak the same language as others and that’s a beautiful thing. At some point in my life I chose to get close and explore the hugeness of details and faces, as there have been others and will be more to come. It’s an impulse we share. Just like other photographers grab at the bigger picture. Everyone brings a little something something to the table. I love Bruce. I’ve had the pleasure of spending some time with him. He’s the nicest guy and a true master. Uncle Bruce.

Phoblographer: Why is a flash so important to your street photography?

Michelle: Flash is my chunky paintbrush and brushstroke. It’s me declaring that there is obviously a photographer here interpreting this moment. It’s me in the act of creating. It’s a beautiful tool that allows me to make a star out of a hand, which is very deserving of a hand in my opinion. There is an earnestness that floods the frame when you shoot without flash. A seriousness of tone. I’m not an earnest person. It also changes the way I work. I don’t much like creeping or hiding. Flash doesn’t allow you to hide. There are consequences for good or bad to each shot. It keeps me in line and thinking about why I am doing what I am doing.

Phoblographer: How do you think your style has fundamentally evolved since you started shooting?

Michelle: I was a creeper initially and would push myself to seek and find small stories developing on the street. I did that for years and years. I was a real ninja but honestly it felt a bit impersonal for me. So my main evolution has been in moving significantly closer, shifting from context to detail. When I moved to LA from NY it triggered a wave of sentimental nostalgia for me. It reminded me very fundamentally of my suburban childhood. The more I looked around the more it tugged on my heartstrings and brought back these acute memories. I ended up using my camera as a device to frame the things that triggered memory. That’s what Sentimental is about. That’s what flows through all of my recent work from the last 5 years.

“Bruce would be very upset to hear that! He stresses the importance of knowing the craft through your place in it. I disagree. I’m more like a wild animal in that I believe in order to truly express yourself you need to ignore traditional influences.”

I don’t always think of myself as a photographer. I use photography to explore ideas but I’m sure if I could paint I would do that too. I also love to write and I played the drums for most of my life so the tool has only ever been the tool. I’m more interested in the idea behind it all.

Phoblographer: What do you feel typically attracts you to the people that you photograph? Have you noticed those patterns in your work at all?

Michelle: It’s all guts and intuition. These people and details attract me. They make me feel strongly so like a perfumer I want to bottle it up and share it and think about it. It’s definitely a compulsion for me. That’s why I shoot so much. I feel drawn to these people and I have to photograph them. It’s that simple. The themes that run through my work make up my life. They are a visual representation of how I see and what I am interested in. It’s a diary but catalogued through strangers.

Phoblographer: Do you feel like these people have some sort of genuine, urgent importance at all or do you feel like they’re more part of your creative vision and in some way are just collaborators in your orchestra?

Michelle: Everyone is urgently important. All of us. That’s the joy of doing this. We don’t always see the value in our everyday lives, only the big important moments, the overtures. But I think we live in the details. The moment I started getting closer and using flash was the moment I gave in to being open to momentary intimacy between strangers. That’s very hard for me. And often for the people I photograph. I get yelled at a lot. Not everyone wants to be exposed to that kind of vulnerability. I get that for sure. The larger truth for me is that in the end the photographs say way more about me then the people in the frame. It’s a rather intense cataloguing of my likes and dislikes and rapid thought process as I go about my business of the day.

Phoblographer: How do you think that a street photographer’s work differs when they interact with a subject vs simply shooting off candids? How do you think that the entire mentality of the moment changes?

Michelle: Girl don’t get me started! This goes out to all those obsessed with candid in street. I hate rules. I recognize the importance of them much like training wheels are important to kids learning to ride but they should never define the work. If you are out there using the street as your blank page you are participating in the history of street photography. I’d rather see wildly inventive original work any day than stale impersonal work made by rule pushers. I also think there is something profound in talking to strangers who you may never have had the opportunity to engage with otherwise. What a gift. That’s the mess of life. Bumping into each other. Sometimes I talk to people, sometimes I grab it and walk off, often I grab it, talk a bit, grab it again. I get yelled at and questioned and on a good day I’m flying through it and everyone is smiling or flattered or into it. As long as the work is good and clear and says something to at least me. There is no such thing as untainted photography. We are all making choices and framing things. There is no such thing as real or candid photography. Only choices. Do what you need to do, to say what you have to say. Just do it with respect and kindness. That’s my rule.

Phoblographer: So now you’re in the process of making a book of all your work. Tell us a bit about it. Of course, it’s a coffee table book but what makes your work stand out that much more than other photographers’?

Michelle: The book is called Sentimental and is being published by the incredibly supportive Magenta Foundation. They gave me a show several years ago and we’ve been planning this monograph ever since. It will be my first book and I’m very excited about it. This book is my way of tunneling back to my childhood and early adulthood through modern day Los Angeles. It’s a feeling and a sentiment and I’m very excited to share it with everyone. The imagery is a lot of fun.

I think of my work as a separate world. The best compliment has always been “I saw a photo and right away I knew it was yours” or “I saw a Michelle Groskopf person today”. My photographs have a specific vibe and feeling and if you don’t get it now you will once you spend time with the book. It clearly invites you into my weirdo world. I’m also excited to see my photographs large and as tactile objects. I showcase my work on social media a ton but the photos work very well large. You’re really there with these people and are given time to meditate on the details. It’s the best way to experience my work. So please help make this a reality and sponsor my kickstarter!

Phoblographer: Talk to us a bit about the gear that you use?

Michelle: I use a popular mirrorless brand of camera but these days I think any camera will do the trick. I have a ton of flashes. I love Godox/Flashpoint and Cactus. They have both done a lot in bringing well priced strobes to mirrorless cameras. I’m looking to buy a Pentax 67 for a special project I’m gearing up for and to use in my studio. Film on the street doesn’t make sense for my street work because it’s too slow, expensive and I shoot too damn much, but it makes perfect sense for experimenting in my studio or for specific commercial or documentary projects.

Phoblographer: Where do you see your career in a year and how do you see yourself getting there?

Michelle: I hope to explore galleries over the next year once my book is released. A solo show is the next step for me. I just left my representation and am looking to partner with a great agency who sees the potential for my work in the commercial world. I love playing with teen culture, subcultures and fashion so it seems a natural fit.

I recently opened a small photo studio in Hollywood with my partner Sasha Tivetsky. It’s called Rad Place. I want to see what will happen when I bring my outside people indoors. Experimentation really excites me. And of course I also think about getting back to the moving image so video is definitely on the horizon. Skies the limit really. For now I’m looking to get this book made so please visit my Kickstarter and preorder your copy!

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"I was a creeper initially and would push myself to seek and find small stories developing on the street." All images by Michelle Groskopf. Used with permission, Photographer Michelle Groskonpf is a fine art street photographer that shoots in a style and subject matter that you don't really see anywhere else.

[textofken]

Read Chapter One of Love and Hamburgers!

Love and Hamburgers

by Ken Poirier

Chapter One

With her elbows pressed against the well-worn wood of the bar, Liz swiped at her phone. She found herself lurking the Facebook pages and tweets of her exes. None of them were particularly bad, per say, they just weren't right. But what is right? She really didn't know, but she knew they weren't it.

"Need a refill?" asked Amy from behind the bar.

"Apparently so," remarked Liz, shaking her empty glass, as if there might still be some alcohol hiding under the melting ice.

It was another quiet Tuesday night at The Crossroads. It was almost one in the morning and hardly a soul had entered the place. A couple of old men, in town for a sales conference, had taken the place over for a while, but they were gone now. She wished it was Monday. Monday night is trivia night. Liz was bonkers bored, despite the fact she was very drunk. She wasn't a big fan of The Crossroads, but her roommate was the bartender, which meant she only had to pay for every third drink. That was a good thing, because she didn't have a job. Quite honestly she didn't want one.

"So, have you figured out what you are going to do?" asked Amy as she placed another whiskey sour in front of Liz.

"Jeeze, Can't I think about it tomorrow?"

"Well, I guess if you’re too drunk to think about it, then you won't be needing this."

Amy made an empty gesture to take the drink back.

"Hey, hey, no! I'll figure it out. I'm good."

"So?"

"So what?"

Liz was sucking the drink down through a straw, protecting it like a wounded animal.

"So... Are you going to get a job tomorrow?"

"I will. I just got to figure out what it is I want to do."

"Well, you better figure it out quick, rent is due in seven days and I’m not going to float for two months in a row. Listen, I got to change out a keg. Keep an eye on the bar until I get back."

Liz looked around the empty room.

"Don't worry, I don't think it's going to go anywhere."

Liz went back to drinking and swiping at her phone. She was thinking about asking her parents for money, but she hated doing that. It always came with some kind of strings attached, or worse. They might ask her to move back in with them. She shuttered at the thought.

A few moments later, a man with dark wavy hair and a leather jacket took a seat over from Liz at the bar. He was tall and clean shaven except for a dark soul patch under his lower lip. She wouldn't have noticed him, but he was tapping his fingers on the bar. He was playing an imaginary piano in sync to the jukebox. He was thumping his fingers so hard it could be heard over the music. He was kind of hot for an older guy, Liz thought. He turned and saw her looking at him. He smiled.

"You a country music fan?" Liz blurted out at him.

"Not particularly. It's okay, I guess."

"Yeah. Me neither. I'd love to change it, but I don't have enough for the jukebox."

"How much is it?"

"A dollar for two songs."

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a bundle of cash held together with a rubber band. He peeled two singles off and handed it to Liz.

"Knock yourself out," he said.

Liz stumbled across the room to the wall mounted jukebox. She fed the dollars into the slot and picked four tracks. The country music faded away and was replaced with an electronic sound with lots of thumping bass. A woman sang something about putting hands in the air. The chorus had something to do with butter. Liz danced her way back to her seat. The ice jingled in her empty glass.

"I’m starting to think that I might be regretting my investment," the man said.

"Oh come on. You don't like Beyonce either?"

"Is that what this is?" He awkwardly tried dancing to it. "No, not really. Do you know if there is a bartender? I kind of just want to get a drink. Long night."

Liz rolled off the bar stool.

"Whacha want? I'll get it."

"You're the bartender?"

"Well, everyone's got to have a job, right? So whacha want?"

"Um... Jameson neat and back it with a PBR, thanks."

“Neat. That means no ice, right?” Liz asked as she made her way around behind the bar.

“Right. No ice.”

Liz put a tall glass on the bar in front of the man and tilted the dark green Jameson bottle over it.

"I always forget when to stop pouring, so you just tell me when."

"That's fine right there."

The glass was almost full. Liz bent over and grabbed a bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon from the little glass fridge and pull the cap off with the opener built into the wall.

"What do I owe you?"

"Just your name will do."

The man blushed and so did Liz.

"Rick. My name is Rick."

"Liz. Nice to meet you."

Rick put a five dollar bill down on the bar.

"I guess that is for you."

Liz swooped it up and put it in her pocket. She then fixed herself another whiskey sour, this time with Jameson instead of the well whiskey Amy gives her. By the time Liz sat down again the music had changed to something softer. Something with guitar, piano, and a brushed snare.

"What's this song? I like it a lot better."

"It Ed something... Sheeran. Ed Sheeran."

"It’s not bad at all. It’s going take a while to finish this drink. I just came in for something quick."

"What’s your hurry?"

"No hurry really. Just a long day. Eager to get home."

"But we’re just starting to have fun, Rick."

Rick held his drink up. The glass was still half full despite he must have already drank two shots out of it.

"I guess so."

They both sat quietly drinking and listening to Ed Sheeran. Rick was trying to come up with some sort of conversation topic, but it was difficult because it was hard to think of anything other than how gorgeous Liz looked, despite being obviously inebriated. Yet, when she bent over to get the PBR bottle, she seemed to find it fast enough. He found himself fantasizing about her struggling to find that last PBR hiding way in the back of the little cooler, just out of reach for her little arms. He began to blush again. That’s not very gentlemanly, Rick thought to himself.

"Is it okay if I take my drink outside? I kind of want to have a smoke."

"Sure! I'll even join you."

They made their way outside. Even though there was a patio, they couldn't sit down because the metal furniture was too cold in the Indiana spring night air. Rick lit up a cigarette.

"You want one, Liz?"

"No. I don't smoke. Just wanted a change of scenery, Fresh air. You know, Rick, you look familiar but I can't figure out where I know you from."

"Oh, I doubt we've met before. I'm don't spend much time in Indianapolis."

"Are you from Muncie? That's where I grew up."

"No, I'm not from Muncie. I'm from LA."

"LA? You don't seem like you’re from LA. Isn't everyone there fake?"

"Fake?" Rick cried. He grabbed his chest like he was about to have a heart attack. He wasn't of course. The years of abusing his body with cigarettes and alcohol had added a touch of gray to his hair, but he was still a relatively young man in the age of modern medicine. Sure, he hadn't seen a doctor in ten years for any situation that didn't involve stitches, but he was sure all the preservatives in the food he had been ingesting must have had some sort of positive effect.

He scanned his momentary companion who, for some strange reason, had followed him out of the bar. He tried to determine if she was naive or if she was just messing with him. It used to be easy. You would just count the number of tattoos and piercings or watch how burnt their hair was with peroxide when they shook their head. That’s how you figured out how for real someone was, but the kids these days seemed to be born with that shit. By looking at the soft focus of the girl's eyes he could tell that either she had never been through the crap grinder before or that if she had, she was blissfully unaware of it.

"Let me tell you something, Liz. All you know about it is what you've seen on TV. People don't look at a car and think they understand everything about Detroit. Watch a couple of episodes of TMZ and Top Model and you think you know the place, but it’s just another product. LA is a living, breathing place where the dreamers go to battle against the bullshit of reality."

Liz's eyes sharpened into slits. She raised her chin. Her shoulders fell back. Her black plastic jacket slipped across her clavicle exposing the strap of her silk flower print shirt. There it is, Rick thought to himself. She's waking up.

"Ok, smart ass, tell me about it."

"I'll do better than that," said Rick, "I'll show you. Come on." Rick began to walk away.

Liz followed him for a few steps before her better senses got ahold of her.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"LA! I've got a hankering for some In and Out burger like you would not believe."

That was enough for Liz to get a better hold over herself. She suddenly realized this guy in the leather jacket with the soul patch must be out of his mind. She had followed him out of the bar because there was something about him that she liked. She wasn't sure what it was. He had a crispness about him. Sometimes that was all it took for her. The way a guy stood at the bar or the way he moved his arms.

Rick was animated, especially for someone his age, but there was something more about Rick. He was confident and yet bashful all at the same time. Both hard and soft. Powerful and gentle. It was absolutely a novel experience for her.

If he had said he was going to another bar or back to his place to show her some movie, or something on Netflix, she wouldn't have had a second thought about it. Thirty seconds ago she would have totally fucked him in the bathroom if he had asked. But to ask someone he just met less than a half hour ago to go driving across the country with him? He must have been out of his mind, possibly dangerous.

"You're joking, right? What do you have a private jet or something?" Liz interrogated.

"Nope," said Rick as he threw his arms out to his sides spreading his leather jacket like the wings of a bird. "All I got is four wheels and a dream of a hamburger."

Liz's eyebrows tried to jump into her hairline. "You're fucking crazy, Rick."

"You know what would be crazy, Liz?" he asked as he started walking back to her. "Staying here. You know what this place is?"

"My home. Indianapolis. Which is way far away from LA. Too far," she replied.

Rick put his right hand on her shoulder. He didn’t grab her. He just used her as a cane for the moment. He took his left hand and began sweeping it across the traffic circle full of bars and hotels. "This is the crossroads of America. Right here where we're standing. That guy who stands on top of that obelisk in the middle, his name Mercury, Hermes, whatever. He is the god of travel. There are four roads and with them you can go anywhere in the country. That one there. That one goes to LA. That's the one I'm taking. That’s where I’m going.” He took his hand off of her shoulder and stumbled backwards.  “This place here, this isn't a place you go to. This is a place you just stop for a moment on the way to somewhere else."

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He looked at Liz from under his eyelids and tapped at an imaginary watch on his left wrist. She responded by twisting her neck in the air like she just fell off of a gallows. Or was it more like a naughty child that just had the back of their hair pulled by a parent? He shrugged at her, turned his view towards the statue of Mercury and gave it a sharp salute. With that he walked away into the night.

Liz pulled out her phone to post an update about her bizarre encounter about the man who wanted to take her to LA for a hamburger but the battery was red and the phone had already started to shut itself down. Amy burst out the doors of the bar.

“What the hell did you do, Liz? There is a huge mess behind the bar!”

“Sorry, Amy. But I got to go do something. I’ll talk you soon!”

“Where are you going? Are you going to look for a job tomorrow?”

But Amy might as well have been shouting into an empty sky, for Liz wouldn’t be looking for a job tomorrow. She was sick and tired of people telling her what to do. Rick was about half way to his car when he heard the clomping of small shoes on the concrete behind him. He smiled as he flicked his burning cigarette butt into the street.

"Hey, Rick! Wait up!"

When he turned around, the out of breath girl grabbed the lapels of his jacket with both hands and pulled him close. He crossed his arms behind her waist and pressed his lips firmly against her own.

"Okay" said Liz, "Let's go get you your fucking hamburger."