#when people get so scared of being formulaic they completely neglect the formula

[tzimtzum]

listening to raven boys audiobook while i work bc i wanted a palate-cleanser after JS&MN [i read the first...maybe two books when i was like 14/15 and then never finished the series] and UMMMM.......>ITS WELL WRITTEN????????????????????????? the prophecy has been fulfilled

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your charles oneshot :) i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers w/ daniel ricciardo? thanks!

DANIEL RICCIARDO ONESHOT

TEMPORARY STRANGERS

( WARNING: swearing, alcohol, blood/injury, little bit of fluff/angst? )

word count: 5.4k

< this is my attempted version lol >

You’d debated whether or not to go to Theo’s party. For one, it was on a Thursday night, which, in itself, was rather tragic for a party thrown for an adult because surely he had to have thought that most people would be working on a Thursday night? Secondly, you had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, so you weren't sure if staying at a party fit for Blair Waldorf for a couple of hours was entirely worth your presence.

But, after a persuasive conversation on the phone — in which Theo spent the majority of it begging you to make an appearance — you’d caved and now you found yourself standing in the middle of a kitchen sipping on a lemonade, expertly avoiding everyone’s eyes and wondering why you agreed to come in the first place.

The apartment was a large, luxurious one, decked from head to toe in pricey decorations and with an open-plan layout. You even had half the mind to compare it to what you imagined a Royal Palace looked like.

In other words, it was big and incredibly tasteful and fancy, in the most annoying way possible.

Then again, Theo did own a successful Estate Agency, which specialized heavily in selling buildings in the centre of London. The money pooled from that spoke for itself, and it also meant that since university he’d met people in all aspects of his work, all of which looked like they’d been invited to his party, which unfortunately meant you didn’t know anyone, and the couple that you did, you had absolutely zero intentions of actually talking to them.

The guests themselves were glamorous, dressed to the nines and decked with expensive watches and jewellery, and you felt out of place wearing your best dress with your favourite high-tops and a blazer.

On another note, the lemonade and food were delicious. It was almost as if he’d hired a private caterer and then shoved them out of the back door before people started arriving.

“You know, I didn’t think you meant it when you said you’d come.” A smooth voice knocked you out of your reverie, and you whirled around, hastily swallowing the lemonade when you noticed the familiar blonde that you’d befriended in uni.

“I didn’t think I did either if that makes a difference.” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek as Theo rolled his eyes, making his way around the kitchen island to place a couple of collected empty glasses near the sink.

“Well, are you having fun?” He asked, leaning back against the counter next to you, his shoulder judging yours teasingly.

You hummed, narrowing your eyes, “Not as much fun as when you crashed my Grandparents party and scared away the boy they tried to set me up with, let’s just leave it at that.” You breathed a laugh, swirling the lemonade in your cup as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” He said, his attention turning to the other partygoers in the near vicinity, his eyebrow raising as he spotted someone trying to sneak one of his clocks into their bags without being caught. It didn’t work; they saw his gaze and turned a suspicious shade of red and pretended as if they’d simply been admiring the thing before walking away.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.

“I think I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, his finger pointing in the direction of the culprit, an apologetic look in his eyes. You nodded, breathing a short laugh in understanding.

“I think I’m going to head out anyway—”

“Oh, please stay.” He held out a hand, silently begging for you to stay.

You hadn’t seen each other in at least a couple of months because of clashes with schedules, and it was getting to the point where the odd texts and phone calls and video calls were starting to feel more like a chore than a privilege. You had been close friends for the best part of ten years now, and you were still close, but adult life was more difficult than you expected trying to balance relationships and work.

You breathed in deeply, eyes flashing around the guests, accidentally catching the eye of Daniel and flicking your attention back to Theo hastily.

“I’ll stay for now but I’m going home in an hour, I have an early shift in the morning.” You promised, offering a small smile as Theo nodded, returning the gesture before disappearing into the throwing of people.

It wasn’t long before you were approached by an unfamiliar face. She was — like all the other people in the room — dressed nicely, and she stumbled slightly in her heels, almost running into you.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.” She muttered, and you could smell the faint, bitter scent of alcohol on her breath, indicating that she wasn’t completely sober.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You reassured, asking if she wanted something else to drink, seeing as though you were standing next to the drinks table and the fridge.

She shook her head, instead resuming Theo’s place against the counter next to you.

“Do you see that man over there?” She whispered, pointing her finger in the direction of the crowd out in the living area.

You furrowed your eyes, trying to lean slightly to make sure you could see who she was pointing at.

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific because there’s about thirty people in that general direction.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh as the woman sighed, shuffling closer to the group and standing in her heeled tiptoes to see over the sea of heads.

“Okay, so he’s about 6 foot, brunette, curly hair…” she snuck a glance at you out of the corner of her eye to make sure you were trying to look out for the person she was talking about, “really fit and has an Italian nose.” She concluded.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling quite awkward in the presence of a stranger. You averted your eyes back to the pile of drinks on the kitchen island and halted your actions in searching for who could only be Daniel Ricciardo.

She noticed your reaction and gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth as if you just spilled the hottest gossip of the season.

“You know him.” She stated, stepping back slightly with an accusatory shine in her eyes.

“I don’t know him, I just know of him.” You lied, trying to brush the topic off as subtly as possible.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, taking your arm and ignoring the cry of protest from your lips as she dragged you away from the kitchen area and into the heart of the party, where the chatter was significantly louder, “I don’t believe that. You can introduce us.” She insisted.

You dug your heels into the floor as best as you could, trying to push away the wave of panic that surged through your veins.

“Lady,” you started, ripping your arm out of her iron grip, “I don’t know him.” You reiterated.

“If you don’t know him, how can you know of him?” She enquired snarkily, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow in your direction.

“How can you not know of him?” You returned, shrugging. Her face remained blank, and it occurred to you she really didn’t know who Daniel was. “That’s Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver for McLaren this year.” You told her, straightening out your blazer uncomfortably, unaware of the eyes on you from the other side of the room.

“Formula 1? So he’s, like…a millionaire?” She licked her lips,sultry eyes slipping over the crowd and fixating on who you assumed to be Daniel.

You cringed, resisting the urge to turn your nose up at her. You suddenly regretted telling her about his career because even a blind man could see that his money was the main thing on her mind at that moment in time.

You neglected from answering her question, instead trying to slink back to the kitchen, but you were interrupted by the scuffle of feet and the sound of something shattering before an obvious cry of pain was heard throughout the room, nearly drowned out in the volume of the music pumping from the speakers.

You swivelled back around, and several people had stepped away from the scene leaving an open gap in the crowd as more people gathered around to see what the kerfuffle was.

The girl had disappeared seemingly into thin air and you were about to take the moment of peace as an opportunity to leave, but Theo’s voice called your name over the crowd, laced with urgency.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, heart pounding with anxiety at the panic in his voice. You made your way to the crowd, apologising to people as you pushed your way through to get to the centre of all the attention.

As soon as you edged into Theo’s vision, he dragged you by the elbow into the centre, pointing to the person who’s cry of pain was heard over the music.

Blood was dripping from a deep gash in the palm of their hand, and the person in question looked a little pale, holding their hand up above their head, a permanent wince etched onto their face. Despite that, they looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, and it was this that caused Theo to turn to the crowd and usher them away.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Theo informed you, and you wasted no time in helping the injured person raise their arm higher above their head, guiding them through the crowd with a secure arm around their waist.

“A cut on my hand doesn’t hinder my ability to walk, okay?” They tried, shifting out of your grip.

“No, but if you pass out, it hinders my ability to patch you up.” You retorted, hurriedly passing your glass of lemonade back to Theo.

The person let a weak, sarcastic huff pass their lips, but they let you guide them to the bathroom, keeping an eye on the blood dripping down their arm and creeping into the sleeve of their blazer.

“Toilet or tub?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you and casting a weary glance back at their hand.

“Depends on the context.” They answered.

You rolled your eyes, settling them on the toilet and quickly rifling through the sink cupboards, locating the first aid kit with ease.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your blazer.” You said, never imagining that you’d say those words to Daniel Ricciardo of all people.

Your relationship with Daniel was weird to say the least. You first met at — surprise, surprise — Theo’s party a few years ago. You’d gotten along swimmingly, perhaps a little bit too well, and it was safe to say he was incredibly charming and cursed with good looks. You were quite good friends, actually.

Until one day he pulled a face at you when you approached him at an award’s evening of some sort. You’d got no idea what happened to elicit such a negative reaction, or any idea on what you could have done, but he’d sneered at you and turned around, making conversation with the person next to you. He’d never explained why, but ever since that day he’d ignored you as much as possible, and it wasn’t exactly hard not to enjoy his company when he was so obviously disgusted with your presence.

Maybe it was the fact that you only managed to snag one piece of cake that night.

“You want a striptease? At least take me out for a date, first.” He muttered, pressing his lips together in obvious discomfort as he peeled his blazer off, being cautious of the blood. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this anyway, I’m fine.” He insisted.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bath, placing your bag on the tiled flooring and zipping open the first aid kit.

“Dan, you’re dripping blood…you’re clearly not fine.” You muttered, carefully rolling his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, ignoring the fact that this was the first time in a long time you’d been this close to him. Ignoring the fact that he looked positively fine in a suit, minus the blood.

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably under your touch.

You turned his hand over, assessed the gash and winced, trying to ignore the tingling, uncomfortable sensation mirrored on your own palm as your eyes ran over the gash. It ran the width of his palm, and it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was quite deep in some places.

“Can we please be quick?” He sighed, his other hand smoothing out non-existent creases in his dress trousers.

You hated to admit it, but his words stung.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t hate me, for fifteen minutes at least?” You said, an unintentional fierceness to your tone, one that you’d tried your best to dial down in his presence, but it seemed to no avail.

“Only if you do the same.” He muttered, and you took the liberty of ignoring his comment, reaching to fish an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit, gently dabbing at the edges to clean off some blood so you could see the extent of the damage. You flexed his hand, ignoring his hiss of pain as the cut stretched slightly.

“What was that for?” He asked, his free hand slapping your hand as he fought to take his cut up hand out of your grip.

You opened your mouth in surprise, the skin on your own hand stinging slightly with the sudden contact.

“Don’t slap me! I’m trying to make sure you don’t have glass in it, you twat.” You said, shaking your head, “Which it doesn’t, by the way, so you’re welcome for checking.”

“How did you even know to check for glass?”

“Because there was broken glass on the floor?” You answered, applying pressure to the wound and lifting his hand a little higher again.

He huffed, turning his face away from you, so he was facing the wall, his lip curling into a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “What did you mean when you said ‘only if you do the same’, anyway?” You murmured, keeping one hand on the wound and reaching to the floor to pick up your bag and unclip the front.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you root around in your bag for something, and he was about to say something, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Everything ok in there? Everyone still alive?” Theo’s muffled voice echoed into the room.

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel grimaced, brown eyes burning through the door as if he was trying to send a telepathic message to Theo through the door.

“Good.” Was all Theo said before the full sound of his shoes against the wooden veneers could be heard on the other side of the door.

You hummed in delight, producing the very thing you were originally looking for in your bag.

“Haribo?” Daniel asked, raising his brows expectantly.

“To get your blood sugar levels up, you’re still pale.” You answered, ripping open the packet, and just as you were about to pour the sweets into Daniel’s outstretched hand, you paused, recoiling.

“What?” He asked, noticeably frustrated that he wasn’t scoffing the sweets.

“Why don’t you like me?” You questioned, biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously as he stared straight at you, his face expressionless.

He was quiet for a while, and you almost told him to forget you even said anything because the simple question looked like it hit home, but he opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He looked at you from behind furrowed brows, apparently confused by your question.

“Why don’t I like you?” He repeated the question. “Why don’t you like me?”

You gaped at him, your cheeks flushing with irritation at his words.

“I don’t—I never—” you sighed in frustration, the hand clutching the packet of Haribo clenching unconsciously as Daniel looked at you with mild concern, “Why the hell would you think I don’t like you?”

He blinked, casting his sights back to the wall, ignoring your eye contact.

“Theo told me you, and I quote, ‘hate me’,” he answered, swallowing roughly as you continued to stare at him.

His discomfort under your gaze brought a sick sense of satisfaction, but at the same time you were having difficulty wrapping your head around what he’d just admitted.

“Theo? My Theo?” You clarified, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“When did he tell you that?” Your heart was starting to hammer in your rib cage, the power of which was almost painful to endure.

“When we went clubbing a while back,” he shrugged.

“Why would he—?” You muttered, before turning back to Daniel. “Are you sure he said that?”

“Positive.”

“So you’ve been so hostile towards me for months now, all because of something someone else said to you in a dark, loud club when you were — let’s face it — probably drunk?”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks, now realising how there would have been so many chances for misunderstanding in such an environment.

“Yes…” he replied, dragging the word out slowly, trying his best to take his mind off the way your grip on his wound was slowly increasing.

“I never said I hate—”

“So…you don’t not like me?” He interrupted, his eyes wide.

“No…Yes…I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that, but I never hated you.” You said, ducking your head down at his intense glare, instead turning your attention back to his bleeding hand, carefully peeling off the gauze to take a peak. You suddenly remembered the scrunched up packet of Haribo still clutched in your grasp, and you shoved it in Daniel’s direction, not bothering to even look at him when he took it, humming quietly in thanks.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, the revelation sending his mind spinning about a hundred different directions.

He was mad at Theo, even if what happened wasn’t entirely his fault, but he was mostly mad at himself for not even bothering to try to talk to you and hash it out. The months he spent trying to ignore you were completely miserable, and the worst part is, he put you through hell without even giving you any reason, and all of that ignorance was not even worth it…that is, if what you said was true.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking to watching you strap up his hand after telling him he (thankfully) didn’t need stitches, but he did need to rest it for a while, which was probably for the best because the F1 Summer Break was currently in full swing.

Once you’d put the soaked gauze in the bin and tidied everything away to how you’d arrived before the bloodbath ensued, you stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off your dress, and offered Daniel a rather confused smile.

He bit his lip in thought, your eyes unconsciously zipping to his mouth, before steering your gaze back up to his eyes when he caught you, raising his eyebrow slightly, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he fought back a smirk.

You turned away, looking at the door, which was very much tempting you at that moment in time.

He cleared his throat once he’d noticed your attention flicker away from him, and it was only then he registered he practically craved you to be looking at him. Whenever he was at functions with Theo, he would always unknowingly search for you, even when he thought you hated his guts, he’d still scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces in the hopes that he’d see you again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, feeling your eyes on him. It was as if he’d suddenly melted into a teenager again right beneath your eyes. He cleared his throat again, sinking back against the toilet in an attempt to make himself smaller at the revelation he’d just arrived at.

It was weird, seeing him so shy when he was naturally such an outgoing character.

You found a part of your brain secretly admiring his flustering, but you quickly shut that down, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be having those thoughts, especially since you’d just had to mop up a slice on his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go grab a drink and join the fray.” You said, hating the way your voice sounded so small against the echoing walls of the bathroom tiles.

Daniel snapped his eyes to yours, holding them intently, slightly alarmed at your words.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave him; call it soppy, but he wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he possibly could, and he knew there would be very few opportunities considering both your careers were so demanding.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I just want to say, thanks for all of this.” He gestured down to his hand, and you smiled.

“No problem. Just…stay away from broken glass for a bit and you should be fine.” You mumbled, words not registering in your brain as Daniel breathed a small laugh, looking utterly starstruck and sad at the same time.

“I’ll try my best.”

You offered one last smile, checking you still had your bag, and without another word you slipped out of the bathroom door, hearing the handle click behind you.

You could still hear the thumping remnants of the party in the next room, and without really caring who you bumped into along the way, you made a beeline for the kitchen, filling up a plastic wine glass with the nearest spirit and downing it as quickly as possible. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, immediately feeling guilty because of the early shift, and hurried to fill the glass back up with water, trying your best to dispel the effects of alcohol before they even had an impact.

It seemed to work.

Your head was spinning, unrelated to the liquids you’d just absorbed, but because of the bathroom fiasco that had just occurred only moments prior.

You were that caught up in your own thoughts, trying to separate fact from fiction and thought from feeling, that you completely missed the very brunette on your mind stride past the kitchen and into the living area, looking like a man on a mission as he tried to seek out Theo.

It didn’t take him long, he just had significantly more trouble trying to shake off a blonde that refused to let go of his arm, and he found Theo leant against a table, looking worn out, his mind absent from reality.

In the time it took for you to patch Daniel up, it looked as if Theo had faced a war and somehow escaped.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, hand clapping into Theo’s shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He jumped, immediately relaxing when he registered just who was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if that…person over there takes another step towards my Grandma, he’s not going to know what hit him.” He answered, finger pointing at a rather suspicious looking man.

“I don’t see a Grandma anywhere.” Daniel pointed out, slightly concerned.

Theo rolled his eyes, as if he’d had to answer the question a million times already, “She’s the purple one on the mantelpiece.” He muttered, taking a swig of whatever was in his glass.

Daniel nodded, feeling guilty for even bringing up the topic, but the completely detached behaviour from Theo was giving him a hard time in focusing on what he actually came over to do.

“Sorry about that, mate.” He apologised, breathing in deeply.

Theo shrugged.

“Anyway, does Y/N still have the same phone number or did she change it?” Daniel questioned, attempting to pretend like the question wasn’t that big of a deal by shrugging and avoiding making eye contact with Theo, but the raise of the eyebrow and curious, piercing blue stare proved that his attempt was futile.

“I knew you still liked her.” Theo chuckled.

“Am I that transparent?” Daniel quipped, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Only for me.” Theo grinned, patting Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel pulled a face, swiping Theo’s hand away.

“But no, she’s still got the same number. Why’d you ask?”

Daniel shrugged, already backing away, attention flickering around the room, once again searching for something — the action of which didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who positively cackled inside, “Just curious.”

“If curious means ‘I-fucked-up-with-a-really-good-person-big-time-and-I-need-to-make-it-up-somehow-before-I-ask-her-out-for-real-this-time-instead-of-practicing-it-in-the-mirror’, then, whatever you say.”

“That was ages ago!”

“People don’t forget!” Theo yelled, smirking in triumph as Dan disappeared around the corner, no doubt searching for you.

You were sitting on the cold, stone steps outside the apartment building, your phone in your hand and debating whether or not to call a taxi or walk home before it gets too dark.

Your thumb was hovering over the call button to your local taxi when the building doors slammed open, the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete as a tall figure leapt down the last three steps, running a hand through their curls in frustration as they looked left, then right, and sighed, reaching into their jacket pocket to produce their phone.

You couldn’t see their face, only the back of their head, but you’d recognise that figure anywhere.

You looked down, your heart stuttering at the sudden buzzing of the phone in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation, and answered the call, lifting the phone up to your ear, your eyes fixated on the pacing figure on the pavement, watching him from your spot at the top corner of the stairs.

“Hello?” The person asked, sounding a bit breathless through the phone.

“Hi.”

“It’s Daniel...Ricciardo.” He winced at his own awkwardness.

“I know. You’re still saved in my contacts.”

“I am?” He replied, tone laced with shock.

You were almost embarrassed to admit that you’d held onto a little shred of hope in thinking he’d eventually get over himself, “You had a paddy with me, remember?”

“About that, I’m really sorry. Like, really, really, really,really, really—”

“I get the idea.” You sighed.

“No, I don’t think you understand how sorry I am for it. It was so insanely stupid of me to stop talking to you because of something I thought I heard in a club — a fucking club of all places — without even thinking of talking to you—”

“Why didn't you talk to me?”

He was silent for a while, and you noticed he’d halted his pacing on the pavement. “I know it sounds like I’m making up excuses, but I really thought you hated my guts, and that...it hurt because I kind of had a bit of a crush on you and I pushed you away because I think a subconscious part of my mind thought that if I did that then it would be better in the long run because I wouldn’t be so attached to you if something went weird later on.” He explained, his voice lowering and quieting towards the end, as if he’d just understood what he didn’t understand.

“That’s...a lot to unpack.” You murmured, noticing the way his shoulders had slumped.

“Yeah...we don’t have to do it right now, though.”

“No, I agree, I think we’d need a nicer place to sort though our emotional struggles than outside Theo’s apartment building.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird — what?” He caught himself, spinning around on his heels.

You offered a shy wave once he’d tilted his head in your direction, realising you’d been watching him talk to you the entire time.

“I was looking for you.” He said once he’d hung up the phone, meeting you halfway on the steps.

“Why?”

“Can I walk you home?” He resorted to asking.

_____

The journey home took about twice as long as it usually would, and by the time you’d both made it onto your street, night was beginning to creep through, the sky changing to a darker blue, street lamps beginning to turn on.

The conversation flowed remarkably easily, albeit there was a noticeable hesitance in dancing around that subject, but you pretended not to notice it, and you had a feeling Daniel was trying to do the same.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, almost disbelieving of that fact that you were in front of him, even after what he’d put you through, and he had to keep catching himself to ensure you didn’t notice him looking.

You did.

“So, how are you feeling about going back after the Summer Break?”

He stifled a smile, “I don’t know why, but I have a really good feeling about going back. You know what? It has to be those Haribo’s.” He breathed a laugh.

“What? I hand out magic Haribo?” You smirked, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“No.”

“You say that now, but you’ll take it back when I get a podium.”

“When you do win, just don’t go around telling everyone about my magic Haribo.”

“Oh, the Haribo are reserved for me and for me only. It won’t have the same effect if you give some to Lando.”

“I’ll just take your word for it, I guess.”

You breathed a laugh, coming to a halt on the pavement, the familiar house standing to your left.

Daniel looked up.

“I thought you had a Fiesta?” He asked, pointing to the blue Hyaundi parked on the driveway.

“I’m sorry, is my car not up to the standard you’re used to?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow teasingly in his direction.

“Oi, I’ll have you know that I learnt to drive in a — I can’t even remember what model it was, but I do remember having to really press down on the brake…and the air con was broken.” He defended, throwing his hands up as if to say he was surrendering.

You bit your lip, “I learnt to drive in a Mercedes.”

His reaction was priceless.

“A Mercedes? You learnt to drive in a—wow.”

“It was just the company car, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Still…wow.” He paused, feet tapping the pavement agitatedly, “I have a proposal.”

You met his eyes, unable to help feeling slightly anxious by the prospect.

“Go on.” You encouraged, crossing your arms tightly.

“If I win a GP…wait—can we make a deal?” He asked, throwing his hand out.

You nodded.

“If I win a GP, I get to take you on a date.” He offered, raising one eyebrow but somehow maintaining eye contact.

“But…what’s in it for me?” You smirked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “That’s so rude…but, okay…I take you to Monza, and if—when I win a GP, I get to take you out. For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend like I will win one because I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

“You’ll win one.” You stated simply, shrugging.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Daniel Ricciardo, when have you ever not been successful in a car?” You asked, pulling a face as if it was obvious from the get-go.

Daniel didn’t say anything after that. He just sort of looked at you, twisting his mouth up in thought. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind at that moment in time, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to believe your words.

“You really believe that?” He finally said, a hint of what sounded like insecurity laced in his tone.

“You don’t?” You shot back, your heart breaking slightly at his demeanour.

“I never left.” He mumbled under his breath, turning away from you slightly with furrowed brows, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

You knew those words would stick around in your mind for a long time.

But there was something so addictive about ‘Daniel Ricciardo wins the 2021 Italian Grand Prix’.

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin🌪 (10)*Finale*

congratulations for making it to the part 1 finale guys! thank you all so much for supporting this au! I am grateful beyond words! ♡

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆����𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 2195

you never really noticed how much breakfast solved your morning grumpiness but it did. you were much more relaxed and motivated when you were not worried and being taken over by hunger. you were able to actually pay attention and do your work with such ease. you thought maybe it was worth adding that into your daily routine once in a while. throughout you were surrounded by a bunch of females who were talking about how they were ranked on the list as it if mattered anymore. you wished they stop talking about it because to you at least, it didn’t matter anymore. you hated soobin for making something like that and you were happy you said what you said to him. 

anyway sister abigail was choosing random people to do math equations on the board today and you knew this would go completely go wrong for you. you knew math formulas and expression, but you couldn’t solve an equation. it was always for you which is why as soon as you felt as if you were about to go next you quickly asked her if you could go to the bathroom. she obliged and you were happy to have gone. 

you were kind of surprised soobin wasn’t in the hallway like he normally was. creating trouble and walking around as if he didn’t have classes to go to. you push open the door to the bathroom. there was someone sitting on the floor which you found very odd, and...disgusting. she looked insane. you don’t even think she went to the school, maybe she snuck in and needed a place to stay. you couldn’t go into another stall without addressing her. her clothes were ragged and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in days. you approach her hesitantly while she sits with her knees to her chest. she kind of scared you with that look of crazy in her eyes. 

“hey, are you alright? do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”.

maybe you could call your mom and they could’ve arranged something until she got back on her feet. you couldn’t just leave her here.

“what do you want? why are you even talking to me?”. she grumbled. you looked closer into her eyes.

“mia?”. 

“what?”. 

you were baffled at her appearance. you couldn’t believe she came to school in this condition she looked so strung out. it was terrible.

“what happened to you?”. 

“it’s not like you’d understand. shit like this happens to you when you refuse to be a saint”. she assures with a tear fleeing her eye. 

“mia it doesn’t matter if you’re a saint or not. if you need help you need help”. 

she blinked a couple of times before she began crying in her hands. you sit down with her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. you felt horrible for her and you hadn’t even known what happened. As she was crying you could see her now dirty school skirt lifting up a bit. words couldn’t describe how sorry you felt at the fresh wounds that slit across her thighs.

“mia? have you been...?”. she quickly clutched the bottom of her skirt and pulled it down. she was ashamed of what she had done. you pursed your lips. no human being should ever have to experience that kind of pain. absolutely no one. 

“I want to help you. can I help you?”. you says and mia looks up with you with her teary blue eyes. 

“why the hell would you want to help me? soobin must’ve broken up with you huh?”. 

you stand up, giving her a hand to help lift herself off the floor. 

“me and soobin aren’t dating”. you say truthfully. “we should head to the nurses office to get you some painkillers”. you hold out your hand for mia to hold. she reluctantly clutched it figuring she had no choice. you guided her down the hallway and your mind was blown on how she willingly let people see her look like this. it wasn’t like mia to ever look ungroomed. 

“what do we have here?”. 

“hey i was wondering she can get some pain meds? she’s having a bit of a headache right now”. the nurse nods putting a hand through mia’s tangled hair.

“are you okay honey?”. she asks. and mia just nods knowing she was broken beyond repair. she was given the tablets and glass of water and she took them gratefully. you tell the nurse thank you and wish her a happy rest of her day before you let mia follow you back into the bathroom.

you place your bag on the sink and position her in the mirror where she could see herself clearly. she knew she looked like a wreck, she hadn’t had the strength to do something about it. you reach into your bag and take out a brush, slipping it through mia’s hair carefully. she flinches. 

“what are you doing?”. she snaps.

“I’m brushing your hair. I refuse to let you walk out of the bathroom like this”. 

she turns around and continue going down each strand, brushing out the knots at the ends before brushing from the top. you did this until her hair was as silky and flowy as you remembered it. mia touches it, forgetting how much better she looked with it done.  

“you like it?”. you asks and mia nods. she looks into the mirror like it was her first time seeing herself. you grab a napkin and wet it, wiping the tear stains off her cheeks. “whoever they were must’ve really hurt you mia”. she holds her head kind of low while you dip into your bag and grab some mascara and lipstick. you never wore much makeup but you carried it because...well that’s just what girls did in high school . 

“i’ll never be the same person again”. she swallows. you twist open the mascara and grip the cap tight. you gently drag the mascara brush up her eyes lashes with care. “who’d ever hurt you like this? this is insane”. 

“you’d be surprised at the things people do when they’re desperate”.

“what did they want from you?”. you question finishing up her other eyelash. mia gulps and stares into your eyes with the most serious look you’ve ever seen. you gulp. 

“mia you have to tell someone you can’t just harm and neglect yourself like this”.

she shakes her head slowly, remembering what the boys told her. 

“I can’t”. 

“why can’t you? anything is better than this. look at your thighs. you can’t go on like--”. 

“I have no choice you don’t understand”. you sighed. you take out the lipstick and swab her lips with the pretty maroon color. you use your fingernails to get the excess around her lips before you were finished. you turned her around to the mirror where she could see herself. she stared and you could tell she didn’t know how to feel.

“you look beautiful mia. and if you let me help you we can get you through this”. 

she presses her lips together. 

“why are you being nice after I’ve done what i’ve done to you? it doesn’t fucking make sense”. 

“well--”.

“I clowned you in front of the whole school i fucked up your history exam I tripped you in gym class and not only embarrassed you but you were also injured. I tried to take soobin away from you and talked down on you as much as I possibly could to get him to hate your guts. why are you being like this?”. 

“The bible says to love your neighbor like you love yourself. yes those things happened but i forgive you. the only thing that is important right now is making sure that whoever it is pay for what they’ve done to you. you don’t deserve this”. 

mia toys with fingers before grasping you in her arms hugging you with the small pocket of joy she had left. 

“do me a favor just put that one on this wall”. Michael says to kevin. he nodded, taking the polaroid picture and stapling it to one part of the bulletin board. 

“we should spread them out more”. kevin says in a matter of factly tone. “true”. and together the both of them took their time taking numerous polaroids and stapling and taping them shamelessly to every wall they could find. 

“this bitch is so pathetic”. kevin utters laughing to himself. he was proud of the work they were doing. it was more fun than any arts and crafts project he’d ever done.

“she is. I hope she sees this shit”. michael replies. the both of them take a step back and look at it all together. in their eyes, it looked great. but when the bell rung and everyone made their way out into the hallway they stopped at every wall in complete horror. thousands of polaroids of the pictures mia took of herself, cutting herself and bleeding. under each one wrote, 

‘mia is an attention seeking cunt’ 

some laughed. some were shocked, and some just plainly walked by them as if they were normal everyday posters. but after mia hugged you, you slipped her your number and made your way upstairs to your class. to your misfortune you didn’t see them. 

but as soon as mia worked up enough courage to step out of the bathroom and become herself again she was reminded of who hurt her. she was reminded of the boys who could give less fucks about how she feels. she was reminded that she was an absolute psychopath for slitting her thighs the way she did. she was stared at. and normally mia wouldn’t mind being stared at when she was among her friends but it was different when she were alone and much more vulnerable. 

where were her friends?

she walks through the crowd holding her head low to avoid eye contact. she’d do anything to not be able to look into people eyes and see what they thought of her. she knew she was a lunatic. she knew she was disgusting. because in the religious community, self harm was bizzare. 

michael throws his hood on and ties it tightly so that his face went unseen. he catches up to mia who was still trying to innocently make her way past the hallway. he grabs them hem of her skirt and pulls it down before he makes a clean getaway. mia shrieks, gaining back the attention she was starting to lose.here she was, in the middle of the hallway with her scars out in the open for everyone to see. she quickly pulls her skirt back up with tears gushing out of her eyes. she runs outside of the school building and everyone stares in utter shock.

══════ ∘◦❀◦∘ ══════ 

the housekeeper clutches the blankets and snatches them off the bed. she jumped back a little when she saw the blood stains that danced along the bed sheets. she quickly reported it to her manager as she was mandated. he took a glimpse for himself. it was unusual that guests ever left a mess and when they did it would be food, shoes, maybe clothes that they forgot. 

but it was never blood so this was a serious problem. and it called for investigation.

[justselfloathingthings-blog]

Doki Doki’s Problems, and How to Fix Them

There’s going to be spoilers, so this’ll be under the cut.

So, naturally, the problems begin with Mana. Not just from a character perspective though, but from a narrative perspective. Let’s tackle them one at time.

Character perspective; I honestly don’t mind them moving away from the deeply flawed protagonists of Tsubomi and Hibiki. I really don’t! Shifting back to a protagonist like Love is perfectly fine and keeps the season a bit different from the two that came before it. Part of the problem, though, is that they seemed to think Love had no flaws. But of course she had flaws. She could be stubborn, she could be childish, she could be naive, she could be scared of things like thunderstorms, she could have issues communicating with people like Daisuke, etc.

Now, most of these aren’t dominant issues and only show up every now and again. But they are definite character flaws that pop up several times throughout the series, sometimes the episode revolving around them, sometimes in subtle ways. The point is that they’re absolutely there.

Mana... doesn’t really have them. She’s a bit similar to Love on the surface, but one of the key differences is that she has basically no weaknesses. (Being bad at singing doesn’t count.) Everyone loves her, she pretty much always gets her way, and everything ends up going her way at the end. She is little internal struggle with Mana, or really any conquering deficits to become a better person, like pretty much every single Cure before her. 

This is especially frustrating because there are a couple angles that you could take. For instance, have Mana have something of an identity crisis, wondering if her desperate desire to help people isn’t born from some kind of selfishness. This doesn’t need to be true, and won’t be of course, but that level of introspection and internal struggle is exactly what you want in a good Precure character. 

Let’s now talk about her from a narrative standpoint.

One thing that’s worth noting is that she hogs the dramatic speeches. Dramatic speeches are actually really important in Precure, because they can be turning points and key moments for a character to show what they’ve learned, where they’ve gotten where they are, and how they’ve become stronger. Now, some seasons can do well without them- Smile is the best example- but typically they’re going to be very useful for characterization. 

Mana, though, gets most of them. Even though out of the cast she probably has the weakest character. People talk about a Pink Cure bias but it goes to an EXTREME with Mana. Literally everyone has a crush on her and adores her, including the writers. This, really deprives the other characters of their time to shine.

What also deprives them of their time to shine is focus episodes. I did the math for Doki Doki and here is what I found. It’s worth noting that the numbers aren’t going to add up exactly because there were various episodes that out of charity I put “misc” since they didn’t have a clear focus, and clearly split episodes I added to each character. 

Mana: 16/50 (32%) Rikka: 6 (12%) Alice: 5 (10%) Makoto: 7 (14%) Aguri: 9 (18%)

I want you to look at that ratio. If you take the two other highest characters in terms of character focus, you manage to only reach par with Mana. While characters have had that high a ratio before (Passion has 35%), the skew alone is ridiculous; while Miki and Buki are heavily neglected, Love is still in the 30s. 

Another issue is the lag. Alice and Makoto should in no way have significantly less episodes than Aguri, who shows up first in episode 22, for crying out loud. The issue is that after roughly the 20 episode mark, Makoto and Alice just... stop getting any screentime, and if anything Rikka has it worse. The complete imbalance in the plot by having Aguri enter so late manages to also deprive three characters (Makoto being the best in the series) of any real narrative focus after they appear. 

It doesn’t help that there are episodes like 6, which is supposed to be about Cure Sword becoming part of the team, that instead heavily become about how awesome Mana is. Episode 14 is nearly robbed from Rikka, the focus being split to the point that it feels like both party’s resolve is almost equally required to defeat the monster. She can’t help but even intrude on decent character episodes because the show needs to be all about her. 

Secondly, there’s been arguments that Aguri needs more focus. I completely disagree, as you might guess from my calculations above. But what I do agree with is that she needs to show up earlier. Episode 22 is freaking insane and I don’t recall any Cure that appears that late except maybe Cure Muse, and it was a mistake when they did that too. Regina has a similar problem; she only shows up in Episode 12.

This might not be AS bad if she wasn’t brainwashed in... well, episode 22. I think you could maybe argue that there is room for a fakeout with this trope, but you both need to make Aguri a better character (I’m totally not bitter that she basically has the exact same narrative purpose as Makoto but more efficient, not at all...) and you need to allow the audience to have further attachment to her. Eas shows up in Episode 1. Siren shows up in episode 1. Splash Star and Futari Wa do their own thing, but those characters also have far more room to interact more or less every episode with the Cures than the other three characters do.

My point is that the audience doesn’t really have much reason to be attached to Regina. Unlike Siren and Eas, they don’t really have enough of a human element to them for you to really connect with, and the relationship with Mana is ridiculously rushed. Instead of cutting it so close with roughly 7 episodes, put her in the beginning. Put Aguri in there too, though more as brief cameos. If you want to keep the “switch sides” thing, make it a fake-out. It’s a facade she’s put on for various reasons- she can’t let go of selfishness, she wants to make her father proud, whatever you want. Then you can have that twist on the formula you want without the brainwashing plotline, and she doesn’t have to disappear for over a dozen episodes and can instead be going through character growth.

Also, though I love her, I’d change Makoto’s arc. The transition from “Loner” to “Teammate” is simply too rushed. If you want to make her a loner Precure, do something similar to Muse or Moonlight. Don’t have it take dozens of episodes of course, but have regular interactions to cause her to warm up to the girls, and then officially join in 10 or so. You have a good balance, and have had plenty of episodes to focus on her. Because, seriously, the fact that she has less than somebody that joined nearly 20 episodes later is criminal. 

Also, I mentioned this earlier, but Makoto and Aguri simply shouldn’t have the same narrative focus. They shouldn’t. It’s lazy, and it completely robs one character of importance and leaves her out in the cold for the rest of the story. Have Makoto or Aguri’s gig be something else, or make them complimentary, or something. Having one dominate over the other narratively makes it feel more like Aguri’s character was made up on the fly, and they stole Sword’s conceit last minute. 

This is a slightly less important point, but still kind of important to me, the characters who aren’t Cures need to be given more screentime. I really like Smile, but it suffers from what I call the “Dead World Problem”. So many of the episodes are focused on the Cures, and just the Cures, and any supporting characters are basically cast aside. Some of the best written seasons manage to balance the two, having episodes about other characters that also manage to say something about the Cures in question; Heartcatch is quite good at that, as are Futari wa and Splash Star, and Fresh to a lesser extent. 

You don’t see that here. The fairies are even left aside compared to their usual treatment, with only 2 out of 5 being relevant. Charles and Raquel got one episode each and Lance didn’t even get that. The parents were also mostly forgotten. Then again this is the only season where all the girls are single children and without parents (except Mana!), so whatever. 

Aside from the Cures and their very few family members, the villains and almost no other character ever got focus. Aside from arguably Regina, the villains often felt pretty dull because there wasn’t enough emphasis on giving them memorable personalities. Other series would have non-Cure friends who would get the occasional episode, or focus on some other minor character, or just have some regular humans do something. Reina, Eru and Jun are nice but that’s just three of them, and more importantly they barely do a thing aside from their focus episodes. Having Cures interact with people who aren’t their families, fairies, villains or other Cures won’t kill them; in fact it could really fit well with the concept of Mana helping others. The Heartcatch girls sure cared more for the people they helped than HER, for one.

I may find more things I like when I watch it again (will try to!) or find that my criticisms don’t really apply. But it’s how I feel right now.  

[recentnews18-blog]

New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/the-creator-of-bojack-horseman-comes-from-a-home-of-funny-jews/

The creator of 'BoJack Horseman' comes from a home of funny Jews

Jerusalem draws in animation bigwigs from all over

Antisemitism czar slams German cartoon as ‘Nazi propaganda’

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Bojack Horseman. (photo credit: YOUTUBE SCREENSHOT)

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While growing up in Palo Alto, Raphael Bob-Waksberg was a serious consumer of popular culture. He would watch TV for hours on end and view movies over and over until he memorized them. In particular, he was a huge fan of “The Simpsons.”

“We used to talk about Bart and Lisa at the dinner table as if they were real people,” said his mother, Ellen Bob.

Nowadays, the conversation around American tables is more likely about “Bojack Horseman” a successful Netflix animated series created by Bob-Waksberg. The show’s fifth season premiered on Sept. 14.

In addition, Comedy Central recently acquired the rights to reruns of “BoJack Horseman,” reportedly making it the first Netflix show to enter TV syndication in the United States. Season 1 reruns are scheduled to begin on Sept. 26.

The show is an adult drama-comedy set in an imaginary Hollywood populated by humans and anthropomorphized animals (the eponymous main character, BoJack Horseman, has a horse’s head and man’s body), and has catapulted Bob-Waksberg’s career to new levels in the real Hollywood.

In addition to his work as head writer and showrunner for “BoJack,” Bob-Waksberg is developing new shows for Netflix and Amazon. He’s also writing a book of short stories scheduled to be published next year by a major imprint.

The 34-year-old’s success has come as no surprise to family, friends, rabbis and teachers in the Bay Area who nurtured his creativity and independent thinking from an early age.

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“I think Raphael was really headed in that direction since his teen years,” said family friend Nechama Tamler, a longtime Jewish educator who early on recognized his writing and performing talent.

Simultaneously sad and funny, but mostly funny, “BoJack” is a satire about the elusive nature of happiness. It has gained praise for its intelligent writing that does not adhere to the typical sitcom formula, and there is no emotional closure at the end of each episode. It’s an ongoing, frustrating effort for characters to learn and grow from their mistakes, and to grapple with the meaning of existence.

The titular character, the deeply flawed BoJack Horseman (voiced by Will Arnett of “Arrested Development”), struggles after his successful acting career flounders. Fans still recognize BoJack for his role as a young, single guy who adopts three orphans in a popular late 1980s sitcom called “Horsin’ Around.” However, now he’s a 50-something depressive addicted to alcohol and drugs. Critically, he lacks the required self-awareness to stop from hurting himself and those closest to him.

When Todd (voiced by Aaron Paul of “Breaking Bad”), a slacker who lives on BoJack’s couch and suffers the equine actor’s constant indifference, has had enough of BoJack’s apologies, he yells at him: “You can’t keep doing shitty things and then feel bad about yourself, like that makes it OK. You need to be better … You are all the things that are wrong with you. It’s not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened to you in your career, or when you were a kid. It’s you.”

The message is that there are no easy answers, and that making amends takes hard work. Ultimately, actions speak louder than words.

Bob-Waksberg’s father, David Waksberg, recognized the Jewishness of this value immediately.

“When a friend asked me about it after the first season, I said it was about teshuvah,” he said, using the Hebrew word for the Jewish concept of repentance.

For his part, Bob-Waksberg wasn’t quite sure how to answer when asked whether his Jewish identity influences his writing, and in particular the melancholic humor of “BoJack.”

“Asking me that question is like asking a fish how much being in water has affected it,” he said.

Bob-Waksberg grew up in Palo Alto in the late 1980s and 1990s with two younger sisters, Becky and Amalia, in a family that was — and still is — very involved in the Jewish community. David Waksberg worked to free and resettle Soviet Jewry, and is now the CEO of the San Francisco-based Jewish LearningWorks, the central agency promoting Jewish education in the Bay Area. Ellen Bob ran a Judaica store (Bob and Bob) with her mother for 26 years, and in 2011 joined Congregation Etz Chayim as executive director.

Humor was always central to life at home.

“We like to laugh … big belly laughs,” Ellen Bob recalled. “David is a great storyteller and joke teller. He would regale the kids with routines from Steve Martin, Woody Allen … and songs from Tom Lehrer. I’m more of a wisecracker. Like my son, nothing gives me more pleasure than to make someone laugh.”

She said she is always pleased when her son makes a point of telling his interviewers (and there are many) that his was a happy childhood, and that BoJack’s family is not based on his family of origin.

“I’m delighted to be known as Raphael’s mother, as long as people don’t think BoJack’s mother is based on me,” she said, alluding to Beatrice Horseman (Wendie Malick), a neglectful and abusive heiress to a sugar cube company who appears primarily in flashbacks.

In looking back on his childhood and adolescence, Bob-Waksberg pointed to Mid-Peninsula Jewish Community Day School (now Gideon Hausner Jewish Day School), the Palo Alto Children’s Theatre and the Gunn High School drama program as other outlets where his creativity was rewarded.

“In school, there were a handful of teachers who understood me. And there were many who didn’t. I didn’t make it easy for them,” he joked.

Rabbi Sheldon Lewis, rabbi emeritus at Congregation Kol Emeth in Palo Alto, recalled Bob-Waksberg as “not an easy student” in the religious school.

“It was because he was so clever and beyond his years in creativity, humor and mischief,” he said.

Despite having grown up in the Palo Alto academic pressure cooker, Bob-Waksberg was never saddled with any expectation that he would become a doctor, lawyer or founder of a startup. His parents were always supportive of his creative leanings.

“It was pretty clear to me that he was going to need to figure a way to make a living through the arts because it was the only thing he knew how to do,” his mother said.

Like “BoJack Horseman,” the shows Bob-Waksberg is writing for Netflix and Amazon are also animated. It’s not a format the graduate of Bard College in New York originally planned to work in when he moved to Los Angeles after trying his hand at comedy writing in the Big Apple.

In his spare time, he collaborated off and on for a decade with his high school friend, illustrator Lisa Hanawalt, on a cartoon featuring human-like animals, which became the basis for “BoJack.” Hanawalt is now a production designer and producer for the show.

The program was in development with Michael Eisner’s company, Tornante, for a couple of years before it went to Netflix, which wanted it to be put into quick production for a summer 2014 premiere.

“I didn’t know I would get into animation. I was initially writing for live action, but ‘BoJack’ is the one [project] that went,” Bob-Waksberg said.

He said this decade has been an exciting time to be working in animation, and that he has an appetite for more.

“Animation is a format, not a genre,” Bob-Waksberg said. “There is a lot to do in animation for adults. What has been done in the past has been limited in scope and has lived in the shadow of ‘The Simpsons.’ The new shows I am developing are about women, which is really fresh.”

Much has changed for Bob-Waksberg in the past few years. On the personal side, he was married a year ago.

Bob-Waksberg and his wife have not yet found a synagogue in Santa Monica that feels like the right fit for them, but they welcome Shabbat on Friday evenings at home.

“My wife grew up more observant than me, so she has been a good influence and has helped me reconnect to Jewish practice,” Bob-Waksberg said. “We even had benchers [blessing booklets] at our wedding, which surprised my parents.”

Professionally, Bob-Waksberg has become more aware of his role and responsibility in the pop culture universe. First, he checks himself as to whom he hires, ensuring that he brings in writers and cast members of diverse backgrounds.

Additionally, he doubts he would now make some of the jokes he made about anti-Semitism, the Holocaust and Nazis in the show’s first season.

“Those jokes were made in the spirit of Mel Brooks, in the sense that you have to laugh at the things that scare you,” he said. “But now I think a lot about how what is said on ‘BoJack’ will be perceived by the audience.”

Speaking to that point, Bob-Waksberg recalled how, as he was growing up in Palo Alto, other kids would tease him with anti-Semitic taunts they had heard on the Comedy Central animated series “South Park.” The writers of that show meant it to be satirical and did not intend to actually be anti-Semitic, but that was lost on Bob-Waksberg’s young tormentors.

He would hope that viewers take dialogue from “BoJack” in context, understanding that it is not what the writers are saying, but rather the flawed characters’ thoughts or opinions. However, Bob-Waksberg said he is more averse these days to taking a writing risk, lest the point be lost or weaponized.

“If we make jokes that are bad for society,” he said, “then it is on us.”

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Source: https://www.jpost.com/Israel-News/Culture/The-creator-of-BoJack-Horseman-comes-from-a-home-of-funny-Jews-567244

[putschki1969]

I read somewhere that a different composer might make new Kalafina songs and I'm kinda worried. Like yes Kajiura's songs were very formulaic but writing for a 3 piece vocal group is difficult considering the amount on instruments in each track. It takes skill. I wondered what your thoughts are about Kalafina getting a new composer since I'm very conflicted

Hey anon (´・ω・)ﾉ

I am happy to share my thoughts. This is Part 1 of my discussion where I address your question regarding a possible new composer. In Part 2 I’ll talk about Kalafina’s future in general.

Quick note: The recording industry has two kinds ofproducers with different roles: executive producer and music producer. Executiveproducers oversee project finances while music producers oversee the creativeprocess of recording songs or albums. In the following text I am exclusively referringto the role of “music producer”.Please keep in mind that these are my personal opinions

Withoutfurther ado, let’s get this thing started 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

Firstthings first, as far as I can tell it doesn’t really say anywhere that adifferent composer might create Kalafina’s music from now on. This oricon article (which pretty much became the main source for all followingarticles) merely states that it is yet unclear who is going to be in charge of producingKalafina’s music in the future. “Unclear” as in => it could be anyone… INCLUDINGYuki Kajiura herself…I guess we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves.

Let’s makethis clear, Yuki Kajiura leaving the agency isn’t the end of the world, she isnot resigning from work, she is not dying nor suffering from a terminalillness. She will continue producing amazing music as an independentartist/freelancer and I don’t really see any reason why she wouldn’t be able tocontinue producing/writing/composing/arranging music for Kalafina in thefuture…Being in the same agency is definitely not a requirement for that. Here’san example => YK has produced and composed a song for Aimer last yeardespite Aimer being managed by a completely different talent agency. There’snothing that speaks against YK doing the very same thing for Kalafina. One mightargue that Yuki herself would rather not continue producing Kalafina’s musicbecause she wants to do her “own thing” now that she is finally independent but I personallyfeel like Space Craft Produce have never stopped her from doing exactly that whenit comes to Kalafina’s music, especially in regards to the stand-alone pieces(obviously it’s different when you produce anime tie-ins since you have toconfirm to certain themes/demands). Judging from all of her self-liner notesand song discussions she has always been given creative freedom and I don’tthink anyone ever truly interfered with her work. Quite the contrary actually, itseems like the agency trusted her with the creative process and I don’t thinkthat has changed at all. So yeah, I believe Yuki wouldn’t be opposed to keepingher role as producer. As for the agency…what’s that saying? “Never change awinning team!” From a business perspective it would be unwise of Space Craft Produceto stand in the way of future joint work between Yuki and Kalafina.

Of course Iam not ruling out other possibilities. After all Yuki Kajiura DID say thatthere would definitely be some changes and while her wish to support Kalafinaremains as strong as ever she might not be able to provide that support in thecapacity she wants to. Maybe someone else will become Kalafina’s “main” musicproducer and Yuki will co-produce certain pieces. In the past Yuki has invited composerHiromitsu Ishikawa to work on various arrangements (Christmas arrangements inparticular but he has also been involved in the making of Yuki’s OSTs). Thisproves that she is definitely willing and capable of working together withsomeone else. And if you ask me, the results of such collaborations can bepretty awesome. Hiromitsu Ishikawa has done all the arrangements for theChristmas covers on “Winter Acoustic”, personally I thought they were the bestthing about the entire album. I mean, he managed to make an annoying song like “WeWish you a Merry Christmas” into the most gorgeous ballad ever and he turned a mainstreamsong like “Jingle Bells” into a unique jazzy tune. I wouldn’t say no to moreamazing outside influences like that. I am sure there are many talented composersout there that could add a lot to Kalafina (whether it concerns covers or originalsongs).

Now I knowmany of you don’t wanna think about the possibility of Yuki Kajiura NOT beinginvolved at all in the creation of Kalafina’s music but there is a chance it couldhappen and honestly, that is no reason whatsoever to abandon ship. So many ofyou talk as if Yuki Kajiura is the only thing that makes Kalafina great. Do youseriously think that is true? Of course this is just my opinion but Kalafina isso much more than just “Yuki Kajiura’s music”. Yes, Yuki’s amazing music is thefoundation of Kalafina and originally they were little more than a means tohelp Yuki in the process of bringing her music to life. However, throughout theyears Wakana, Keiko and Hikaru have become SO MUCH MORE. It’s THEIR voices,THEIR passion, THEIR dedication to their craft that bring Yuki’s music TRULY tolife, it’s their interpretations/world views/expressions/emotions that make thesongs special and unique. Maybe it’s just me but while I very much appreciate andadmire YK’s work I have always been more attached to the members of Kalafina. Withtheir OUTSTANDING talent and charismatic nature the three of them can turnalmost everything to magic. Their many cover performances are proof of that. Theyhave also managed to make me fall in love with so many of their own songs,songs I most likely wouldn’t have given a second listen if they had been sungby someone else. So what if someone else produces music for them? Would itreally be that bad? NO! Not really. I totally agree with everyone who issaying that it is not an easy task to write music for Kalafina but hey, it’snot impossible and I am sure there are many people out there who could doamazing things with Kalafina. Also, to all those who are scared Kalafina’s “style”would change once a new composer steps in, I am not exactly sure what you arescared of…First of all, more than half of Kalafina’s non-Japanese fanbase hasbeen complaining for years now that Yuki keeps writing the same “boring/generic/mainstream/trashy”songs (NOT my words and NOT my thoughts!). Shouldn’t a new composer make you happy then?…Secondly,in my opinion Kalafina’s style has never been “consistent” per se. Yuki haswritten songs of all kinds of genres, she has written utterly complex as wellas super simple pieces, she sometimes perfectly utilises the voices of allthree singers and other times she focuses on one singer while neglecting theothers. At the end of the day however, Kalafina made all of this work and theaudience/fanbase embraced everything so I don’t think it would be any differentif a new composer came in and used a “different” style. The girls are veryproud and protective of their work so they would make sure someone competent takesup Yuki’s role. They wouldn’t allow anyone to destroy what they have builttogether for the past ten years. But they certainly wouldn’t be opposed tosomeone expanding Kalafina’s horizon. And there’s certainly a lot of potentialfor expansion. There’s still so much hidden talent that hasn’t been exploredyet and personally, I don’t care WHO brings out those talents in our girls, Ijust want them to flourish.

Which leadsme right to the next part of my discussion. Kalafina could produce their ownmusic. Why do they even need a producer? I think they are more than capable ofcreating their own music. They have been working together with Yuki Kajiura formore than a decade now, they must have learned a lot from her. I am not surehow much technical knowledge they have when it comes to composing and arrangingbut it’s not like they can’t hire someone to help out a bit. My point is thoughthat after ten years in the business they should be able to be fully in charge oftheir own music. In the first few years they have never had much of a say inthe production of music. It wasn’t until “far on the water” when the girls finallytook up a more active role. But still, I don’t think Yuki ever allowed muchinterference. As weird as this may sound, cutting ties with Yuki Kajiura mightbe a good thing for Kalafina. And I am not talking about the group in general,I am talking about Wakana, Keiko and Hikaru individually. Like I have mentionedabove, for many years they just served as a means to bring Yuki’s vision tolife. In the beginning stage Yuki just borrowed their voices, nothing else.Then Kalafina started doing lives but it was still all about Yuki’s music, itwasn’t about the members themselves. That’s why all their earlier concerts (upuntil their Consolation lives actually) are very much reminiscent of YK Lives.Yuki doesn’t like elaborate stage productions, she doesn’t like choreographies,she doesn’t like the audience to jump around like crazy with penlights. Shewants the audience to focus on the music and she wants her singers to focus onsinging. Their first Budokan live was a critical juncture in that regardbecause that’s when a lot of things changed. At this point in time Minami Sasugacame into the picture and she is the one responsible for the above mentionedchanges. I am not sure if YK approved of all these changes but she at least letthem happen. Slowly but surely the girls got to introduce personal elementsinto their performances. They were finally able to express their individualwishes. That’s why their newer lives differ so much from their old ones and whyeach new live is totally different than the last. The girls are experimenting,trying to find their own style now that they have more freedom in that regard. Ifthey produced their own music they would have total freedom because they wouldn’tbe bound by anything or anyone. A quick thing I’d like to address in this context. Kalafina’s 10th AnniversaryLive was pretty much a throwback to the old Kala-lives. I think it waspurposefully kept simple. Mainly because all previous anniversary lives havebeen simple but also because that’s Yuki’s vision. She was in the audience, atthat point everyone definitely knew about Yuki leaving the agency so the girlsprobably wanted to make this performance special for her. And I am sure theydid, Yuki LOVES these kinds of lives.

Okay, that’s it for Part 1. I hope I was able to provide some some sort of reassurance. Part 2 will follow tomorrow night.

[hogwartswelcomesyou]

EeeeeEEEEEE. SORT ARCHER?

I WOULD LOVE TO! Here you go my dear! Make sure you read under the break, I just didn’t want the post to be too long! -Hufflepuff Mod Star

Sterling Archer - Slytherin

Oh man, this guy is a stereotypical Slytherin. Manipulates people in his life, including women into having copious amounts of sex, has little empathy (much like Voldemort or Bellatrix) but also calls people out pretty quickly. He is never seen without HIS turtleneck (he of course ‘invented’) and maintains a stellar image with the public. He oddly doesn’t do his job because of a sense of justice, like a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor would do, but he does it all for personal reasons, which are typically selfish. For those he cares about, like Lana, he will do anything, even becoming a certified Doula for her, and defends his mother to the ends of the earth, even though she was neglectful towards him as a child, like many snakes do, putting themselves and people who mean the world to them first.

Lana Kane - Gryffindor

Lana definitely thinks before she acts or speaks, and knows how to use her strengths to her greatest advantage, but she also has a great amount of nerve and is incredibly daring. As we learn later, Lana was an animal rights activist who threw red paint at Malory’s fur coat, and when Malory pulled out a gun, Lana stood her ground, and her fearlessness earnt her the job! She is more than happy to call people out as well, berating Archer and others, but still maintaining a positive relationship with everyone, while Archer tends to have more negative interactions.

Malory Archer - Slytherin

Like mother, like son, right? Malory is yet another stereotypical Slytherin, who is racist, materialistic and has even less empathy than Archer. She has previously haggled ransom prices for him and her employees, and puts their lives at risk to keep herself safe. Manipulation shines in her when he called a fake bomb threat to get a luxury cabin on an airship and to get reservations at a luxury restaurant. A merciless killer in her past and in many ways abusive to Archer, this woman SCREAMS snake (especially as portrayed by the Death Eaters in HP).

Cyril Figgis - Hufflepuff

Cyirl, like everyone on the show is kind of an asshole, but he’s an odd character, in that he isn’t totally selfish, he is just an ass by mistake or because people twist his words and actions to make him looks bad, but is really just trying his best. He’s the Jerry Gergitch (Parks and Recreation) of Archer, and he does care about others besides himself, which makes him a Hufflepuff. He holds loyalty towards Lana in particular, he’s more thoughtful and cautious than literally everyone else and prefers to use words to solve a fight, than a punch like Archer.

Cheryl Tunt - Slytherin

Cheryl (or is it Carol? Or Cherlene?) is really a wildcard in this show, she is a complete ditz in general life but can hold her own when she needs to. Her main goal is to evoke jealousy in others, including Archer, whom she previously dated. Early on, she manipulated Cyril into cheating on Lana with her, and then when he distances himself from her, she threatened to tell Lana! Cheryl reminds me of Draco Malfoy, spoilt beyond belief, emotionally unstable (especially true for Draco in HBP) and likes being the centre of attention, and genuinely believes she is a good person (which is kind of debatable).

Pam Poovey - Hufflepuff

Pam is the HR director at ISIS, a fitting role for a Hufflepuff, even if she isn’t great at it. All she wants is for people to like or love her, Archer and even his mother included. She’s loyal to ISIS and all who work there, she shows a lot of trust in others even if she barely knows them and loves to be shown she is loved. Pam is a simple lady on the surface, but she is a pretty complicated woman when you scrape back the layers.

Dr Krieger - Ravenclaw

Krieger is a mad scientist, if you hadn’t guessed from the GIF, and like so many other mad scientists, this guy is a Ravenclaw. He is trilingual, showing his huge intellect, goes by the title Doctor, created himself a virtual girlfriend, has all sorts of ideas and has made some wacky inventions, including but not limited to cyborg arms (for Conway), legs (for Ray) and hands (for Lana), a Chokebot for Cheryl (she likes being choked, lets not kinkshame her), the worlds most advanced Spy Car and Formula K which supposedly turns a person gay! Even when the others find out he is supposedly the clone of Hitler, he is able to use his wits to remind everyone that he would LOOK like him if he really was, but i’m not even sure I believe it.

Ray Gillette - Ravenclaw

Ray is an analyst and bomb specialist, with expertise in wiring, and tends to think first, think some more, and then finally ask someone if he can go do the thing. Ray thinks of humanity quite a lot, his own, being openly gay, and paralyzed, all thanks to Archer, and that of others, questioning people and their choices all the time. At one point, everyone thought he was racist because he was upset with his new bionic hand, which had a black glove on in, but when Cyril confronted him, he admitted it was because he was scared of losing his humanity, because he is slowly becoming a full cyborg. Ray is more worldly and tries to talk everyone out of an idea he sees going sour, and uses his intelligence to keep himself and *try* to keep everyone else safe.

[multiverseforger]

Due to his own research needing to be moved somewhere more secluded, he discussed with Ellen the idea of moving to the Everglades so as to be closer to Curt.[12] Sallis was then reassigned to "Project: Gladiator," a S.H.I.E.L.D. research program based in the Florida Everglades.[3]

Sallis modified his SO-2 formula as the basis for a new Super-Soldier Serum. The subversive organization AIM wanted the serum and conspired with a bitter Ellen, whom Ted had long neglected since their honeymoon.[3] Upon completing his new serum, Ted committed its formula to memory and burnt his records. When Ellen led Ted into an AIM ambush, he fled and attempted to reach Curt Connors's lab.[12] While fleeing, he injected the only existing sample of the serum into himself just before his car crashed into the swamp. He should have died, but the magical energies of the swamp, combined with the serum as well as some of Curt Connors regeneration serum,[12] transformed him into the hideous creature later known as the Man-Thing. His intelligence rapidly fading, Sallis then slew the AIM agents and horribly burned half of Ellen's face. Unknown to Sallis, Ellen had been pregnant.[14][15]

Early Adventures

Early AppearanceMan-Thing returned to his former laboratory after he stumbled across Project Gladiator's creator, Wilma Calvin. The locals assumed that there was witch-craft happening and captured one of the project members, Barbara Morse, though the locals were being secretly lead by AIM. After threatening the entire project members, the locals were slain by Man-Thing. He returned to the swamp. Not long after, Wilma appeared to recognize him as Ted but was shot and went into a coma.[14][16]

After wandering through the swamp for a time, he stumbled onto the Writer's Mansion and Man-Thing and Sallis appeared to be separated. Sallis was then looked after by the family that lived there. However, this turned out to be an illusion conjured by The Writer who was using Sallis to finish his book by bringing the characters to life.[17]

With the transformation of Ted Sallis into Man-Thing virtually unknown to the world at large, two of his former colleagues, Barbara Morse and Paul Allen, brought in Ka-Zar to try and track him down. At the same time AIM returned once again to try and obtain Sallis' formula. A.I.M. captured Man-Thing in a pit after Ka-Zar had begun to follow him. Confronting A.I.M, Ka-Zar fell into the pit and after a short fight in which Man-Thing had the upper hand, Man-Thing was then knocked out by AIM. Going in to kill the pair, they were saved by Zabu. Pulling the unconscious Man-Thing out of the pit, the duo took him back to the lab where they discovered that Paul and Wilma have been captured by AIM. While Ka-Zar leaves, Man-Thing slipped through his bars and followed them to A.I.M.s secret base. After discovering the truth about Paul working for AIM, Man-Thing busted through the wall of the base and rescued Ka-Zar. After everyone gets out, Man-Thing blows up the base with him inside.[18]

Meeting Ellen in the swamp, she removed the bandages to reveal that her face was fully healed and no longer feels scared of Man-Thing, who did not realize who she truly was. Showing no fear, the two then touched. Due to showing no fear, Ellen was not burnt and, sensing her sadness, Man-Thing left.[19]

Fighting Against Demons

Fighting against Thog[20]It was during this time Man-Thing first met the young witch Jennifer Kale and her brother, Andrew Kale when they accidentally summoned Thog the Nether-Spawn using the Tome of Zhered-Na. Initially unaware they had done so, the Kales returned to their town of Citrusville while being followed by Thog and Man-Thing. Confronting Thog, Man-Thing was initially able to destroy its original host before being summoned fully. Returning the fight to the swamp, Thog was thrown back into his home dimension of Sominus.[20]

Thog returned to seek revenge by bringing Man-Thing to his home dimension and offered him the chance to become human once more if he killed the Kale family. Refusing to do so, Sallis was then reverted back to Man-Thing and Thog was apparently destroyed. The Kales then realized they were still in the swamp and everything was an illusion that Man-Thing only manages to break when he realized that his touch wasn’t burning someone who knew fear.[21]

The Kales observed strange outbreaks of violence due to the takeover of human minds and souls by demons of the underworld. Deciding to assemble the cult, they prepare a ritual that they hope will block the demons' entry to the Earth realm. Jennifer Kale and the Man-Thing disappeared and re-appeared in chains in an otherworldly dimension. Here they met Dakimh the Enchanter, who needed to recover the Tome of Zhered-Na, the tome used to originally summon Thog. Dakimh was aware of the demonic invasion of Earth and told Jennifer that the Man-Thing is the guardian of the Nexus of All Realities. As the guardian, Man-Thing can prevent the doorways between worlds from being opened but must survive a trial by combat. The Man-Thing is forced to fight a barbarian Mongu. Mongu's battle-axe was ineffective against the Man-Thing, and the swamp monster fought back with his burning touch, winning the fight. Dakimh returned Jennifer and the Man-Thing to the swamp.[22]

For unknown reasons, Man-Thing ran amok in the city. Man-Thing then seemingly dropped dead and was soon taken to the Kale home, Joshua Kale told everyone the origins of the Tome of Zhered-Na, which has its origins stemming from Ancient Atlantis. Dahkim appeared and takes Jennifer and Man-Thing to an extra-dimensional nexus to try and recover the Tome, battling various forces of the demons of Sominus in the process. When the cult members are captured, Jennifer and Man-Thing worked together to secure the book and restore reality to normal, freeing the captured cultists. All are transported back to Earth, including a demon Man-Thing was fighting. Once back in the swamp Man-Thing is easily able to overpower the demon. With everything restored to normal, the Tome vanished, and Man-Thing returned to the swamp, his bond with Jennifer seemingly severed.[23]

Many of Man-Thing's early activities involved meeting many of its residents and aiding those who had been wronged, usually by causing fear and scarring those were causing strife to others, including an abusive husband,[24] a racist cop,[25] a corrupt businessman who wanted to build an airport on Native American land,[26] and a crashed bus.[27]

Meeting the Superhero Community

His first interaction with a super-powered being was by awakening Wundarr, an alien who had been sent to earth to escape his dying world as a baby. Some time passed before his discovery and Wundarr soon grew to adulthood without any education. Assuming each was being attacked by the other, Man-Thing and Wundarr fought until Man-Thing left and rejected Wundarr's desire for Man-Thing to be his mother.[28]

Man-Thing was one of the many heroes involved in defending the earth from the hordes of the Dark Dimension when Dormammu attempted to invade the Earth.[29]

Man-Thing then teamed up with The Thing to take down the Molecule Man's "son" after he appeared in his swamp. The Thing had initially arrived due to him feeling that Man-Thing had stolen his name. During the initial confrontation Molecule Man turned both Thing and Man-Thing back into their human form, before attempting to teleport but couldn't teleport past the swamp due to the Nexus. Ted was unable to remember anything past the accident and the pair traveled to Citrusville, where they fought the Molecule Man. Turning the pair back to their monstrous forms, Man-Thing attacked the Thing and using the Man-Thing's swamp mud, the Molecule Man was defeated.[30]

Attack on the Nexus of All-Realities

Man-Thing found himself on a strange world below a floating castle where he was picked up by Jennifer Kale, with the savage Korrek following from behind. Korrek caught up with Kale and the Man-Thing and attacked the two of them. However, this appeared to be nothing more than a dream of Jennifer Kale. Korrek was transported to Earth's dimension through a jar of peanut butter and resumed his attack on Jennifer. However, when Joshua and Andy burst into the room, Korrek believed himself surrounded and fled into the swamp. The Kales were soon visited by Dakimh the Enchanter who has come to tell the Kales about the disruption in the Nexus of All Realities caused by the construction being done in the swamp. He has also come to train Jennifer in his mystical knowledge and reveals the dream world is just a different place and people are often teleported there. Meanwhile, in the swamp, Korrek met the Man-Thing. Attacking the creature in a fury, he once again saw that no matter what he did, he could not harm the Man-Thing and so he stopped fighting. While lamenting over his plight, Korrek was visited by Howard the Duck, who had also found himself transported to Earth's dimension as well. Howard and Korrek teamed up to find a way back to their respective realities. Traveling through the swamp with Man-Thing in tow, Korrek was compelled to go to the F.A. Schist construction site after hearing a blood-curdling scream. Spotting Demons attacking the site, the Demons soon turned their attention towards Man-Thing, Korrek, and Howard and closed in for the kill.[27]

Man-Thing, Korrek, and Howard were attacked by the demons who happened to be followers of the "Overmaster", a being who seeks to take over all of existence. Fighting a losing battle against the nigh-indestructible demons, the trio was saved by a last-minute intervention by Dakimh, who asked them to join him in stopping the Overmaster. Their first task was to rescue Jennifer who had been captured by the Overmaster's followers. Explaining that they needed to realign the Nexus of All Realities, the foursome began to hop across dimensions, while losing Howard on the Journey in the process. When the trio arrived at the center of the nexus, they succeed in realigning it. However, it also gave the Overmaster and his Congress of Realities access to the realm of Therea, where they hoped to kill the Gods that resided there and take over. There the Overmaster unmasked himself, revealing him to be the demon Thog. The Man-Thing battled Thog and his minions while burning those who feared him, and when Thog became afraid of plunging into the moat of Therean water, Man-Thing grabbed him and began to burn him as well. With his hands melting, Thog tried to break free, and ended up falling in the moat of pure water, which seemingly killed him. With their master defeated, the Congress and its armies retreated back from whence they came. The Gods of this realm were revealed to be two dogs under the care of two farmers. When the Man-Thing touched one of the dogs, they were all shown the full of reality before all being sent to their respective homes.[31]

Back in the Swamp

Back on Earth, Man-Thing met Richard Rory when he rescued the man from an alligator attack. When the Man-Thing finished killing the gator, Richard tried to get the Man-Thing to administer first aid to his injuries but he blacked out due to blood loss and Man-Thing leaves. Richard meanwhile meets a woman named Ruth Hart. Meanwhile, F.A. Schist returned and wanted to destroy the Man-Thing so he hired Professor Slaughter, an M.I.T. graduate who offers to deal with the Man-Thing. Meanwhile, back at the swamp, Ruth and Richard are silently watched by the Man-Thing, but the muck-monster eventually left the two to give them some privacy and wandered around the swamp. Here, he ran into the Skull-Crushers, the biker gang of which Ruth used to be a part of. When they saw the creature, they attacked it and found out that nothing works against him. Their leader Snake attacked the creature with a chain, but the Man-Thing grabbed him and his momentary fear causes him to be burned by the muck monster. When the Man-Thing finally departed, Snake vows to get the creature. Meanwhile, the Man-Thing found itself drawn to the Slaughter Room, a device designed to kill the Man-Thing, which emanated sonic vibrations from inside it. However, the creature managed to destroy the device by throwing chains at its controls. At that moment, Ruth arrived followed shortly by Snake and Richard. Both ended up at blows, but when the Man-Thing indifferently threw away the chains it used to free itself, the chains soon struck Snake, killing him in the process. Both Schist and Hargood immediately fled the scene after that.[32]

Schist's wife Vivian hired Dr. Dane Gavin to capture or kill the Man-Thing; he chose the former, placing Man-Thing on display in the New York Museum of Natural History, where visitors' fears sent the Man-Thing on a berserk rampage through the city until Dr. Gavin and Schist's daughter, Carolyn, took him back to the swamp.[33] Man-Thing later faced the manifested hate of Maybelle Tork,[34] the Demons of Liberation (embittered scarred war veterans),[35] and the reality-altering Brian Lazarus.[36]

Wandering into the Port Everglades, the Man-Thing was trapped on the Marietta cargo ship and caught up in a two-century-old curse involving the satyr Khordes, the immortal crew of the pirate Captain Fate, and oceanographer Dr. Maura Spinner. Maura was a reincarnation of the former captain of Fate's crew, whom Fate had traded to Khordes in exchange for his treasure. Mistaking the satyr's benevolent intent, Maura had slain Khordes, who cursed them all. After helping convince Spinner to accept her destiny by the resurrected satyr's side, Man-Thing returned to the Everglades.[37]

The bog beast then joined old allies Korrek, Dakimh, and Jennifer Kale against the extradimensional sorcerer Klonus and warrior Mortak.[38] In a weird twist of fate, a Man-Thing-shaped candle (created after his New York rampage) was drugged and given to Ted Sallis' former love interest Sainte-Cloud by her jilted lover Chuck, causing her to see Man-Thing hallucinations; exposed to the drug himself, a terrified Chuck badly burnt his face on the candle.[39]

After surviving an assault from his one-time victim Jackson Hunter,[13] the Man-Thing halted the Mad Viking's rampage.[40] He then heeded the tortured spirit of student Edmond Winshed, taking vengeance on Edmond's former tormentors.[41] Captured by townspeople and thrown into a sewage treatment plant, Man-Thing escaped and slew the Mad Viking, ending a violent book-burning crusade by the Viking and Olivia Selby.[42]

Now able to survive longer away from the swamp, the Man-Thing was brought by Richard Rory to Georgia, where he escaped. He fought the demon Ehrthold,[13] as well as the soul-stealing Scavenger and his demonic creator Thog, whose Nightmare Boxes threatened to plunge all reality into madness until the positive wills of Ted Sallis and Steve Gerber contaminated the boxes, foiling Thog, whom Man-Thing once again incinerated.[43] Alongside Ghost Rider, Morbius, and the Werewolf, (who together would be known as the Legion of Monsters), Man-Thing helped destroy the enigmatic Starseed, who was actually a would-be savior of humanity.[44]

After again fighting the Molecule Man alongside Iron Man,[45] the Man-Thing was captured along with the Glob by the Collector, who pitted them against the Hulk before they rebelled and escaped. Man-Thing later helped psychic Andrea Rodgers restore her fragmented personality,[46] helped thwart the inane cosmic menace Bzzk'Joh,[47] drove off D'Spayre,[48] destroyed Jude the Entropic Man and Victorius who was allied with the Cult of Entropy (while narrowly missing a chance to regain his humanity),[49] and encountered the extradimensional Micronauts.[50]

Sallis' mind was nearly restored by Dr. Karl Oheimer's cerebral regeneration therapy for a CIA project; but the army suspected enemy involvement and tried to protect Sallis' serum by attempting to rescue Oheimer, who was slain in the process. The sentient Man-Thing slaughtered all others involved, but once back in the swamp his mind faded.[51] Another experimental project briefly transported him to the Himalayas, where he encountered a Yeti race descended from Cro-Magnons.[52]

The sorcerer Baron Mordo returned him to the swamp, restored Sallis' mind and used him as a pawn against Dr. Strange in a plot to destroy Earth, but Jennifer Kale helped the Man-Thing throw off Mordo's control and foil the plot, though Sallis' mind again faded.[citation needed]

After aiding Howard the Duck against the mad monopoly of Kong Lomerate, the Man-Thing befriended Sheriff John Daltry and Barbara Bannister, alongside whom he again met Captain Fate and opposed yet another Thog plot. This time, Sallis was cured and writer Chris Claremont took his place as the Man-Thing, destroying Thog. Dr. Strange restored Claremont, but Sallis' curse returned and proved irreversible. The Man-Thing was possessed by Unnthinnk, one of the demon coven called the Six Fingered Hand, who battled the Defenders in a massive plot to take over Earth; the Six-Fingered Hand turned out to be pawns of the Hell-Lords in a scheme to use the Nexus in an aborted attempt to merge Hell and Earth.[citation needed]

Alongside Thor, he opposed both the Man-Beast and the Bi-Beast, then briefly served as a pawn of the mad sorcerer Ian Fate, which once again led to another rampage through New York. Back in the swamps, Sallis refused an offer from the demon Eblis to become human in exchange for his mortal soul. The government's Project Glamor developed a version of Sallis' formula while planning to attack Russia with super-soldiers. However, these warriors were destroyed by the Man-Thing and others as well. Another Sallis serum derivation, SS-8, was used by Daemian Wainscroft, mutating his son Deke into a powerful form until being functionally lobotomized by the Punisher.[citation needed]

Alongside the Hulk, the Man-Thing encountered a new Glob, and was later nearly destroyed by the Deviant Ereshkigal when she used the Star Brand to access the Nexus in an effort to rule all reality. Another writer with reality-warping powers used the Man-Thing to complete his final story in the last seconds of his life. Shortly thereafter, the Man-Thing was one of the Daydreamers joining Franklin Richards on a surreal journey to accept Onslaught's seeming destruction of Franklin's parents, who had actually survived in the Counter-Earth of a pocket realm created by Franklin; however, Ashema the Listener, a Celestial who helped Franklin retrieve Onslaught's victims and establish Counter-Earth as a real planet orbiting opposite Earth, obliterated the Man-Thing in order to stop him from blocking access to the pocket realm.[citation needed]

Re-created via the combined energies of an Asgardian Norn Stone and the recent breaching of the dimensional barriers, the Man-Thing's form was briefly usurped by mailroom employee Carl Shuffler, who was removed by Spider-Man using instructions from the virtually omniscient Authority.[citation needed]

Fixing the Nexus of All Realities

Recent dimensional travel had shattered the Nexus of Realities, and Dr. Strange recruited Ellen Brandt to help Man-Thing restore it. In the process, the Man-Thing was possessed by K'ad-Mon, the history of the Men of Lineage was revealed, and Sallis learned that his relation with Ellen was predestined to restore his hereditary mission. Ellen, the Man-Thing, and K'ad-Mon recovered Nexus fragments from within the maddened Devil-Slayer, from Howard the Duck (despite the opposition of Mahapralaya and a revived Cult of Entropy), from Cleito herself in ancient Atlantis, and from a Nexus-blessed planet that Ellen had to destroy to save reality.[53][54]

Their efforts to restore the Nexus were opposed by the Fallen Star Mr. Termineus, the embodiment of finality, who had visited the young Ted Sallis over the years. Termineus had captured Ellen's long-lost son Job Burke and trained him as his disciple in a plot to destroy all existence.[55] Devil-Slayer united the remaining Fallen Stars, including K'ad-Mon and Sorrow, to stop Termineus. Using the power of the final Nexus fragment, Termineus succeeded in shattering the healing Nexus, wiping out all reality.[8]

However, Sallis' nature as a Man of The Lineage (combined with his love for Ellen) allowed him to briefly maintain the dream of existence; he joined forces with Job, who rebelled against his mentor, to re-imagine the creator's dream that had formed reality. All existence was restored, with Ted and Ellen inhabiting the Nexus itself, while K'ad-Mon retained control of the Man-Thing. Job returned home with his adoptive parents to live his life and prepare for his future destiny. Termineus began to plot anew to bring about the endgame, but as it was he who had involved K'ad-Mon in this struggle, he had to deal with bringing about his own failure, due to his inability to relinquish the love in his heart for his former wife, Sorrow.[56]

Shortly thereafter, the ancient Scrier mutated one of his cabal members into the Outrider to seize the Nexus. Spider-Man helped foil this plot, and Ted and Ellen drew the consciousness of the Nexus down into the Man-Thing, merging into a powerful collective being. This merged being left the earthly sphere, becoming the new Nexus, and the magic of the swamp reformed the Man-Thing's original form, apparently instilling it with the residual memory of Sallis' consciousness as before.[56]

Continuing its subconscious mission to defend the swamp and Nexus it incinerated botanist Owen Candler, creator of the Salvation Seed and the Union, which had threatened to replace humanity with plant simuloids.[57]

Two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents tried to get Man-Thing to sign the Superhuman Registration Act. Man-Thing did not seem to understand the agents and when one of them attacked him, for illegal 'non violent resistance', he was killed by Man-Thing's touch. The other agent then shot Man-Thing with a herbicide gun, believing he had killed him though Man-Thing later reconstituted himself from the swamp.[6]

Thunderbolts

The Man-Thing was slashed in half by Ares of the Dark Avengers and "bagged and tagged" since then, however he was seen protecting the Moloids who are collecting and spiriting away the Punisher's body parts, after he is dismembered and decapitated by Daken, acting on the orders of Norman Osborn.[citation needed]

After Norman Osborn was deposed during the events of Siege, Man-Thing was moved to the Raft. There, Hank Pym studied it and created a device which used Man-Thing's connection to the Nexus of All Realities to enable Luke Cage's Thunderbolts to teleport anywhere in the world. He was inscribed with the 'World Song' by Satana.[citation needed]

Using the Nexus of All Realities, Man-Thing was able to escape the Raft and run amok around New York City. Howard the Duck, along with She-Hulk, Nighthawk, and Frankenstein's Monster went in search of him in an attempt to stop him.[citation needed]

A Giant-Size Man-Thing.Returning to the Thunderbolts, he helped during an invasion of Chicago by absorbing the hordes of monsters sent to destroy it. This caused him to become giant-sized. Satana extracted a bulb from his old, burnt out body.[58]

Fearsome Four

Fearsome FourDuring the Fear Itself event, Howard the Duck formed a team called the Fearsome Four with She-Hulk, Frankenstein's Monster and Nighthawk to stop the Man-Thing who found himself driven to an uncontrollable rage, caused by the immense levels of fear generated by the Serpent's hammer-wielders across the world.[59] Facing various alternate universe heroes and the Psycho-Man, brought to Earth by the Man-Thing's connection to the Nexus of All Realities.[60][61] The Four were eventually able to confront their own fears and calm the Man-Thing, bringing an end to his rampage and saving the world, before going their separate ways.[62]

The Howling Commandos of S.H.I.E.L.D

After his escape from the Thunderbolts and handling by the Fearsome Four, the Man-Thing was captured and entered into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s S.T.A.K.E. sub-division. While on their inaugural mission, the Howling Commandos were in combat with a viral plant infection. Multiple of these infected individuals joined together to form a larger being. This was cause for Dum Dum Dugan to call in for Man-Thing to be dropped into the fight. He then proceeded to fight off the enlarged being and defeat it using his burning touch. Sadly due to this the idol they were sent to retrieve was destroyed and their first mission was both success and failure.[63]

Powers and Abilities

Power Grid [75]Intelligence 1Strength 3Speed 1Durability7 Energy Projection 2Fighting Skills 1

Powers

Man-Thing Physiology: is a being composed of vegetable matter formed by a mixture of mystical energy and swamp mutagens.[64]

Malleability: He is also able to pass through many fences by oozing through the gaps in the chain links.[65] He can also shape and elongate his limbs to grab people[64] or create blade like weapons from a bark like material.[citation needed]

Flight: Man-Thing is capable of self propelled flight.[54]

Superhuman Strength: he posses a level of super-strength. He has been shown able to lift a 2,000 pound automobile.[31] Supposedly his might is limitless as he's the living embodiment of the Earth's life-force, making him one of the physically strongest characters in the Marvel Universe.[66]

Chlorokinesis: Man-Thing possessing the ability to control and manipulate plant life.[67][68][69]

Superhuman Durability: Its porous form is resistant to most physical attacks because it is not entirely solid; a fist or a bullet will usually pass right through it.[70]

Empathy/Acidic Secretion: As the Man-Thing, Ted's "brain" is no longer centrally located as when he was human: mutated analogs of his brain cells are unevenly distributed throughout the volume of his head and torso. Inhuman in its functions, his "brain" is incapable of reason, thought, or long-term memory. The Man-Thing does have a sensory apparatus, the location and nature of which is unknown, which is able to empathically sense the emotions of other organisms. Unless stimulated by external emotion, the Man-Thing remains inert. Sensing emotion, he will seek out its source, his pace determined by the intensity of the emotion. Mild emotions provoke "curiosity," causing him to draw near and "observe." Violent emotion will provoke him to seek out the source and attack it. He does not possess emotions himself. Violent emotions in others cause him some form of extreme discomfort, which produces a physical reaction on the surface of his body. In response to emotional provocation, his body produces fuming sulfuric acid which can cause severe burns when in contact with the flesh of emoting beings. When the being ceases to radiate emotion, the Man-Thing's body ceases production of acid and secretes a mild, soapy mucus that tends to neutralize the acid. The Man-Thing will only attack a being that emotionally provokes him.[citation needed] This ability extends to parts of his own body that are no longer attached to him, as he was able to connect with portions of himself which had been consumed by humans who feared him, thus causing those consumed parts of his body to secrete acid and burn through their bodies from the inside out.[1]

Reality Displacement: Through his access to the Nexus of Realities Silas has the ability to transplant settings from different dimensions unto the primary Marvel Universe. Even interchanging alt. reality counterpart appearances with the main iteration of core continuum characters with other versions of themselves.[71]

Size Enhancement: When fueled by enough fear Man-Thing can grow to monolithic proportions.[59]

Dimensional Travel: As the guardian of the Nexus of All Realities the Man-Thing is the virtual embodiment of the time and space effect centered on the Nexus area and can open portals to other realities.[70]

Teleportation: By opening a portal to a different location he can teleport himself and others to that specific place. He can apparently open portals to places he hasn't been as long as he has seen an image of it.[72]

Regeneration/Reformation: Man-Thing is capable of regenerating his body from plant and vegetable matter, especially that found in his swamp. He is able to remake his body even when believed to be near death and can form tendrils to seek out any matter with which to aid his regeneration.[1]

Abilities

Biochemistry: Ted Sallis was a noted biochemist.

X'zelzi'ohr: When Man-Thing was granted speech again he spoke the language of X'zelzi'ohr , the universal language. Everyone heard him in a way they were accustomed to, meaning he spoke "normal" to the likes of Satana and Moonstone, but was concise and to the point for Ghost, a lewd Englishman to Mr. Hyde, and a total thug to Boomerang.[73]

Strength level

Able to lift at least 2000 pounds but has fought foes as powerful as the Hulk so at times his strength may be able to increase past this.

Weaknesses

The Man-Thing is dependent on the swamp environment for vitality; if removed for a significant length of time, he lapses in dormancy.

Paraphernalia

Transportation

Walking Hank Pym, as part of the Thunderbolts under Luke Cage, installed a device in Man-Thing that uses his connection to the Nexus of All Realities to allow the Thunderbolts to teleport anywhere in the world. Man-Thing does not control or steer the teleport (Pym's technology does), but he must travel with it.

Weapons

Uses claws to slash at opponents or uses acid secretions triggered by fear.

Trivia

Sometimes compared to DC Comics' Swamp Thing who debuted in July, 1971. They were also both compared to the The Heap who debuted in December, 1942.

Recommended Readings

Fear #13; 19

Giant-Size Man-Thing #4

Man-Thing #1; 12, 16-22.

Midnight Sons Unlimited Vol 1, No. 8 January 1995; A Kynd Of Magick; Featuring: Scarlet Witch

Marvel Team-Up Vol 2, No. 4 December 1997

Marvel Comics Presents Vol 1, No. 1-12 1988; Elements of Terror

Links and References

277 Appearances of Theodore Sallis (Earth-616)

33 Minor Appearances of Theodore Sallis (Earth-616)

Media Theodore Sallis (Earth-616) was Mentioned in

260 Images featuring Theodore Sallis (Earth-616)

5 Quotations by or about Theodore Sallis (Earth-616)

Character Gallery: Theodore Sallis (Earth-616) 

Man-Thing profile at Wikipedia

Man-Thing profile at the Marvel Directory

Man-Thing profile at Toonopedia

Discover and Discuss

Search this site for: Theodore Sallis (Earth-616)

Footnotes

↑ 1.01.11.2 Legion of Monsters: Man-Thing #1

↑ 2.02.1 Man-Thing Vol 3 #6

↑ 3.03.13.23.33.4 Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 4 #10

↑ Man-Thing Vol 3 #8

↑ 5.05.1 Man-Thing Vol 3 #7

↑ 6.06.1 Marvel Comics Presents Vol 2 #12

↑ Marvel Zombies 4 #3

↑ 8.08.1 Strange Tales Vol 4 #2

↑ Thunderbolts #155

↑ Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Master Edition #5

↑ Marvel Monsters Vol 2 #1

↑ 12.012.112.212.3 Web of Spider-Man Vol 2 #6

↑ 13.013.113.2 Giant-Size Man-Thing #5

↑ 14.014.1 Savage Tales #1

↑ Marvel Comics Presents #164

↑ Astonishing Tales #12

↑ Marvel Comics Presents #164-167

↑ Astonishing Tales #12-13

↑ Monsters Unleashed #5

↑ 20.020.1 Fear #11

↑ Fear #13

↑ Fear #14

↑ Fear #15

↑ Fear #10

↑ Fear #12

[ultraspideysense-blog]

In Dire Need of a Tutor (Peter Parker Imagine)

request: nope just an idea i had off the dome last week

short summary: you need a tutor for AP Physics…Peter Parker is your boy for the job. stuff happens from there LOL

word count: 1.8k

warnings: a little swearing but idk if people got a problem w that *shrugs*

A/N: lowkey not sure if anyone will like this lmao but this is going to be a 3 or 4 part series, so this first part is primarily to set the stage for the next part, which will have a larger focus on peter himself. if you’d liked to be tagged in future parts or my works in general pls lmk!

“Jesus Christ, Flash, you’re so full of yourself!” you exclaimed as you quickly gathered your notebook and shoved it in your backpack. You were beyond frustrated and infuriated.

AP Physics wasn’t your strong suit, but you’d be damned if you didn’t ace both the class and its subsequent AP exam. The more you worked, the more hopeless your quest to find a tutor seemed to become. Your friend MJ tried first and it didn’t work out. Then you had tried Flash when he had offered. He wasn’t exactly the ideal person you had in mind, but you were desperate. Too desperate.

“At least I’m not as hopeless as you, how do you not understand the most basic of formulas? You’ll need a goddamn miracle to pass this exam,” he replied arrogantly. You simply showed him the finger and exited the empty classroom he’d been tutoring you in. There were still a good 5 minutes left of lunch and you were in dire need of some junk food from one of the vending machines.

As you opened the door, you collided with another person, with the contents of your backpack flying everywhere. Textbooks, notebooks, pens, everything.

“Shit,” you both exclaimed simultaneously. “This day could not get any worse,” you muttered to yourself with a humorless laugh as you bent over to collect your things.

“I-I’m really sorry,” said the boy you’d run into. He knelt down next to you and was hurriedly gathering your things. Taking a quick glance up at him, you recognized him from somewhere, but couldn’t place which class.

“No, it was my fault,” you replied softly. “You don’t have to help me, it’s totally fine—“ you stopped mid-sentence as he handed you your latest Physics test that had fallen out of your bag, a big fat D+ adorning the upper right corner of the paper.  You felt your cheeks redden as you slowly took it back.

The two of you worked in silence until all of your things were gathered off of the linoleum floor of the hallway. Getting up and brushing your knees off, you were still slightly embarrassed he’d seen the test that you’d bombed.

“Thank you, uhm,” you paused, not really know his name.

“Peter…Parker. Peter Parker,” he introduced quietly, not quite meeting your eyes. They were looking down at the floor actually.

“Right..well thank you Peter. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you held out your hand for him to shake.

“I know, we have AP Physics together,” Peter stated. His cheeks reddened and his eyes widened as he continued, “I think, I mean I don’t know for sure.” He then quickly took your outstretched hand to shake.

You looked him over for a brief moment. Messy dark hair, but kind brown eyes. His t-shirt was a physics joke that, of course, you didn’t understand. But recognition slowly made its way into your features as your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, we do have physics together,” you exclaimed sheepishly. He shrugged it off nervously.

“It’s okay, I’m kind of invisible,” Peter replied quietly. After a few more brief moments he extracted his hand from yours and handed you your backpack. As you were about to shuffle away awkwardly he grabbed your arm.

“I could maybe…tutor you in Physics if you want? I kind of overheard your situation with Flash and it looks like you need help.” You could tell he was referencing the abomination of a test he had seen while helping you clean up. His eyes widened again. “Not that you’re stupid or anything, quite the opposite, I just, uh,” he stammered. You smiled at him.

“No I completely get it, I’m desperate for help honestly. Would you mind tutoring me, Peter?” you asked sweetly. If you recalled correctly, he was quite smart, and never got an answer wrong when the teacher would call on him in class.

“Sure, okay,” he said, sounding a bit breathless. You thanked the Gods above and prayed that he would be able to help you pass.

Before you could give a response, the bell rang signaling the end of lunch. Quickly grabbing a pen from your backpack and Peter’s arm, you scrawled your number on his arm. Students started to fill up the hallways, walking towards their next classes.

“Text and let me know what times work best for you, I’m pretty much free all the time, bye Peter!” you called as you scurried off to your next class, leaving him staring at his arm with a dumbfounded look on his face.

~2 weeks later~

Peter had been tutoring you late in the evenings after his Stark Internship, which worked out since you two lived in the same building, him being two floors up from your apartment. And, you were actually starting to understand physics. There was another test tomorrow, and tonight Peter was supposed to help you do some last minute cramming.

You couldn’t help but notice how nervous he seemed every time you were over at his apartment, or how often he would blush when you’d scoot closer to him to get a better look at a problem or concept. Any time that your shoulders would brush you’d see him visibly stiffen or jump a little bit. You considered questioning him on it, but thought that maybe he’d quit tutoring you if you did. And lord knows you couldn’t afford for that to happen.

He’d told you in school earlier that day he might be a bit late, but you still made your way up to his apartment anyway and knocked on the door. His Aunt May opened the door and smiled when she saw it was you.

“Y/N! Is Peter expecting you?” she inquired as she gestured you in. Every time you were over in the past few weeks she was nothing but warm and nice to you, and unbeknownst to you shooting Peter suggestive glances every time he led you to his room for a tutoring session.

“Yeah, we have a test tomorrow, so we’re planning on some last minute cramming so I can actually retain this information,” you joked lightly. May gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

“With Peter’s help I’m sure you’ll definitely ace it. That boy’s as smart as they come, and cute too,” she replied with a wink. You blushed.

“Definitely true.” You didn’t specify which of her statements you were agreeing with, and she didn’t ask. Instead, she mentioned you were free to wait for Peter in his room and to help yourself to anything in the kitchen before retreating to her own bedroom.  

You opted to just take a glass of water and made your way to Peter’s room, taking a seat on his bed and pulling out some study materials. Though, about 20 minutes later while deep into a multi-step pendulum problem, the window slowly started creeping open. You froze, not knowing what to do or how to react to the situation and waited to see what would unfold.

A figure slowly came in and started climbing on the ceiling…climbing on the ceiling!! You threw your hand over your mouth when realizing that none other than Spider-Man was crawling on the fucking ceiling. His mask was off and your heart raced with anticipation as you craned your neck to get a clear look at the face.

As the figure looked down and outstretched their arm to slowly close the slightly open door, it hit you like a truck: it was Peter Parker, Peter fucking Parker was the Spider-Man. In shock with a million questions running through your head, Peter finally saw you as he made his descent to the floor, shock painting his features perfectly. After 30 seconds of silence you were the first to speak.

“What the fuck, you’re Spider-Man? How do you? Why do you?” your mouth kept opening and closing as more and more questions popped into your head. You got up off of his bed and started pacing around the room, slightly annoyed and extremely confused. “Do you even have anything to say or are you just going to stand there and ignore my questions?” you all but yelled. Peter finally sprung into action throwing a hand over your mouth, realizing the severity of the situation.

“Y/N please calm down, don’t hate me just let me explain, okay, just hear me out? Please?” he begged. He started making some hardcore puppy dog eyes at you and your annoyance began to falter. You removed his hand from your mouth and once again sat on his bed, taking a deep breath. “Fine, you have 60 seconds before I start freaking out again,” you said dramatically.

Honestly inside you knew that there was no reason for you to be this worked up, you’d only known Peter almost two weeks now. But you were just…scared for him. You brushed it off as normal human compassion as he took off his Spider-Man suit.

As he changed into some normal clothes it took everything in you to look away as he revealed his rock hard abs, you wouldn’t be surprised if your cheeks were insanely red. Heaving a sigh he sat next to you on his bed, his knee bouncing up and down nervously.

“I am…Spider-Man,” he started slowly. Yeah no shit Sherlock, you thought to yourself. But didn’t dare interrupt. 

“I got bit by a spider a while ago and I developed all these super human powers and it just sort of turned into this big thing, and pretty much every day I work hard to protect everyone in Queens and just be this friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man and I know I tell everyone I have this big Stark internship but it’s just I can’t tell people about this, not even Aunt May or else she wouldn’t let me do this anymore, and I just have to do this. I can’t just have these powers to help and look out for people and neglect to use them. And I’m so sorry about lying to you but it’s just…I couldn’t risk it. I really couldn’t,” he rushed out in one single breath.

You could see slight relief in his features as everything in his mind came out of his mouth. You felt for him a little bit, evidently having nobody to confide in about this major secret in his life. Before you could formulate a response you saw tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, Peter,” you replied softly, pulling him into a hug. “Please stop crying, it’s okay, I’m not mad at you, you’re okay.” He was sniffling against your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist, as you stroked one of your hands through his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me, I promise.”

After a few minutes he had composed himself and looked at you deeply. “Thank you, Y/N.” You felt a shiver run down your spine at how genuine he sounded…but in a good way. Brushing it off, you wiped a few stray tears off of his cheeks.

“So…you actually know Tony Stark?” you asked, trying to change the mood. He laughed a little bit, causing you to laugh too. And the two of you spent the rest of the night talking about his Spider-Man lifestyle instead of studying.

[horizonreviews]

“The Babadook” Film Review

The Babadook: A Redefinition of Horror

           In recent years, horror films have taken a downward spiral. Several productions such as Krampus, The Ouija Experiment, and The Mummy Resurrected have left a great deal to be desired. The characters, production value, and overarching plots for these films among others these last ten years has been reduced to a film making formula that results in a handful of jump scares and no redeeming value. However, one film has proven itself to be paragon of horror films at the peak of their powers: The Babadook. With a gripping premise, intelligent storytelling, and impressive performances, the story of a young boy and his mother facing a monster breaks beyond the expectations of its genre and becomes a horror film that has redefined the standards of its failing genre. 

Act I Summary

           The film opens on a woman named Amelia Vanek. She is about to give birth, and her husband reassures her that everything is going to be all right as they drive to the hospital. But as he comforts her, he is distracted and they both get in a terrible car crash. It is revealed that Amelia survived the crash and gave birth to a son named Samuel, but her husband, Oskar, didn’t survive. Six years after the accident, Amelia’s life has been marked with anxiety and high levels of emotional distress. The situation isn’t helped as her son begins to exhibit strange and erratic behavior.

           Samuel develops insomnia and believes that a monster follows him wherever he goes. In order to cope with the situation, Samuel develops crude weapons out of objects around the house. He has crafted a small catapult and a crossbow. His odd behavior is contained for a time, but it is drawn to his school principal’s attention when Samuel brings a crossbow to school with him. The mother is clearly distressed with Samuel’s behavior, and she doesn’t know how to cope with him without her husband for support.

           One night, Sam finds a strange book waiting on his doorstep: Mister Babadook. He insists that his mother read it to him, and she reluctantly agrees. Immediately, the book is alarming as it depicts a monster that you can’t hope to rid yourself of. The Babadook is depicted as a pale-faced humanoid being in a top hat with fingers shaped like knives. Amelia doesn’t believe they should be reading this, but Samuel insists they continue. Amelia finishes with “if it’s in a word or in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook.” The book disturbs Amelia, but Sam is convinced that this creature is real. Samuel then proceeds to keep his mother awake with his anxieties, unable to relax.

           Soon after this story takes its toll on Amelia and Samuel, supernatural occurrences being to take place around their house. Doors open and close on their own, strange sounds go off at night, and Amelia even finds broken glass in her food. Amelia believes that Samuel is responsible for these incidents, but Sam insists that it’s the Babadook. Unable to cope with Samuel’s obsession, Amelia rips up the Babadook storybook and throws it in the trash. She believes that she’s finally been rid of this poisonous influence on her and her son.

           Amelia tries to regain some semblance of her life by attending her niece, Ruby’s birthday party, and she brings Samuel with her. Amelia becomes preoccupied with the other mothers attending, and Samuel is left alone. He is soon bullied by Ruby. She mocks Samuel, saying that not having a father is shameful. Samuel retaliates and breaks Ruby’s nose in two places. Ruby’s mother rushes to her daughter’s side and claims that Sam is unbearable. Amelia takes offence to this and storms off in her car with Samuel. On their way home, Samuel suffers a febrile seizure, so they stop to see a pediatrician. After extensive begging, the pediatrician writes a prescription for some sedatives.

Act II Summary

           The next morning, Amelia finds the Mister Babadook book fixed and on her doorstep. The book holds a new message, and she is haunted by its contents. It taunts her and says that by avoiding the Babadook, it will only get stronger. The book displays an escalation of its influence on Amelia, showing her murdering the family dog (Bugsy), Samuel, and then herself. Amelia is horrified by the contents of the book and burns it, rushing to the police for help. She tells the officers what has happened, but without any evidence of stalking or the book, they are unable to help. Furthermore, Amelia sees the Babadook’s hat and coat hanging on a hook at the station, and she leaves.

           Amelia becomes more withdrawn and impulsive over time. She also begins yelling at Samuel for no reason and her visions of the Babadook become more frequent. During one of her sleepless nights, Amelia sees an apparition of Oskar, who comforts her and makes her feel happy for the first time in years. She asks him to come back to her, and he says that he will if she gives him Samuel. Amelia is soon overcome with fear and retreats to her room. But the Babadook appears in her room and possesses her.

           In her demented rage, Amelia breaks Bugsy’s neck, and tries to kill Sam with a kitchen knife. Sam manages to outsmart the Babadook by using his crude weapons and an array of traps. The fight concludes in the basement, where Amelia is knocked out. She wakes to find that Samuel has tied her up. He remains terrified, but hopeful. He tires to reach his mother, claiming, “You may not love me anymore mum. But I love you.” Amelia undergoes a seizure and vomits an inky black substance (the Babadook).

           Amelia seems relieved at first, but Sam reminds her “you can’t get rid of the Babadook.” Sam is then dragged out of the basement and into Amelia’s bedroom. Amelia rushes to save her son, and she confronts the Babadook directly. The being never reveals its face, but forces Amelia to re-experience Oskar’s death. She gazes upon the vision, completely overcome by despair. The being continues to approach them, and Amelia says, “If you touch my son, I’ll kill you!” The creature retreats to the basement and Amelia locks the door behind it.

           ***

           After some time, Amelia and Samuel have managed to move past the Babadook’s influence. Amelia has become more caring and considerate toward Samuel. She even becomes accepting of his weapon making and his magic tricks. One afternoon, Amelia and Samuel collect earthworms in the garden and put them in a small bowl. She approaches the basement door (now outfitted with several new locks), and she says that she won’t be long. She enters the basement and places the bowl on the floor. The Babadook approaches her, but she unaffected and comforts the creature. The bowl retreats to the corner, and the Babadook begins eating the worms. Amelia returns to the yard and celebrates Samuel’s birthday with him.

Film Reaction

           While I was hesitant to watch The Babadook at first, it has proven to be a powerful cinematic experience. With a modest budget, few characters, and a modest runtime of 94 minutes, the Babadook manages to leave a powerful impression that most horror films with more resources struggle to replicate. By focusing on a scenario that elicits true horror instead of common jump scares, the simple story manages to transcend the expectations of its tired genre and gives vibrant life to a real issue: how to cope with loss.

           There are many theories as to what the Babadook is, but all of them relate to a common theme of grief. This creature that torments a broken family is an archetype of bereavement: all consuming, dark, and an elicitor of people’s lowest instincts. It is by adopting these qualities that the Babadook becomes something more than just a garden-variety monster. He becomes a physical representation of how much it hurts to lose someone you love, and is proof that the pain of losing someone doesn’t end when they’re buried.

           With this in mind, the effect of the Babadook becomes more palpable as well as realistic. People who refuse to process their grief tend to have it return in more intense and hurtful ways. As Amelia refuses to acknowledge Oskar’s death, she begins to separate herself from other people. She even begins to neglect her own son and loses touch with reality. All the while, the Babadook’s effect on her grows stronger.

           One can practically see the Kubler-Ross Model of grief being drawn as the story progresses. From denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance.  At the beginning, Amelia refuses to let anyone speak Oskar’s name. She is denying the situation at its most basic level, and this only feeds her grief. And this is around the time the Babadook make sits first appearance. Later on, her violent and erratic behavior intensifies and we see the Babadook poisoning her perceptions on reality.

           Soon, she grows desperate and begs the pediatrician for sedatives. This is a telltale sign of bargaining, showing that she wants to find some way to be rid of this grief. As the story comes to its climax, we see that Amelia is completely overcome with fear and depression. The Babadook makes an attempt to ruin the Vaneks, but when he is finally expelled, it’s only because Amelia confronted the Babadook (or confronted her grief).

          The family seems to be happy again, but it’s the final part of the Grief Model that is truly fascinating. Amelia has entered the stage of acceptance, but that doesn’t mean she’s completely rid herself of the Babadook. This creature isn’t like Dracula, Frankenstein, or the Wolfman, it’s not a physical being that can be killed. Instead, it acts as a concept that Amelia has to come to peace with. She has accepted her grief, but the pain of losing Oskar will remain. This doesn’t mean that the story has ended on a sad note, it’s acknowledging the reality of the subject matter. People suffer terrible losses in their lifetimes, but winning once doesn’t mean that the fight is over. Instead, one will have to manage and process their emotions to ensure that their grief doesn’t overcome their lives.

         In all, the Babadook is an impressive horror story that has broken the cycle of formulaic and brought horror to new heights. Jump scares, stock characters, and weak storylines are thrown out the window and make way for a story that will chill you to your bones. Babadook is story that’s not to be missed, as it leaves you pondering how you will respond in the face of grief. It’s a lesson in how you can’t hold on to your resentment and loss forever as it will let something manifest that you will be powerless to control. You may cling to the past, but it will only result in taking on a new and terrible form, the form of a Babadook.

[postpartumsupportkoram]

My Story

It's been months, and I've been looking for the right words to express myself. To express what I've been through since I've become a mother. It's proving to be nearly impossible to put it on paper. It isn't a story that needs to be told, but it's a story I want to tell. 

If you're a close family member, or friend you may already know that I have struggled with anxiety and depression for many years. On and off I have been depressed since the age of thirteen. At the age of fifteen I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder. As I encountered more events throughout my life I developed Severe Anxiety Disorder, OCD, and was told that I am what they call a Catastrophic thinker {Someone who always assumes the worst}. I feared most every day activities. I feared people, social encounters, large crowds, school, making friends, picking out the proper outfit, driving, pumping gas, and a variety of other things that many people just do naturally. 

It took a lot of time for me to let people in. Luckily for my significant other he came into my life early in the game before I experienced many of these emotions. We had been friends prior to my diagnoses. Later in time we became a couple. I was still very anxious about our relationship, and what would make me the "perfect girlfriend". I always wanted to be the best I could be for the people around me. Especially him. The first year flew, and before we knew it we were engaged and expecting a baby. 

Once we were expecting a baby I changed, immediately. I hadn't realized it then, but looking back I know now how quickly that responsibility changed me. My anxiety was at its all time high. My pregnancy was a breeze physically, but really took my emotions to another level. I worried about the baby's growth, I worried about my growth, I worried about our health, I worried about the child's future, If I could afford the needs, the wants. I worried about school, college, jobs. Not for me, but for the baby. I jumped so far ahead I didn't know what I had myself into. Everything turned into an anxiety. My pregnancy itself was a trigger. No one really knew this, because no one ever asked about me. They asked about the baby.

So many people told me not to wish my time away. To enjoy my pregnancy, to embrace it. I don't think they realized that pregnancy just isn't for everyone. It wasn't for me. Those nine months, although stressful and exhausting - they flew! The time, it went by so quickly.

After fourteen hours of labor, ten minutes of pushing and a hell of a lot of pain medication I had one sweet eight pound, eight ounce baby laying on my chest. It didn't feel real. It was a complete blur, and honestly it still is. I remember she wasn't crying, I remember my immediate panic because the moment she entered the world she didn't make a peep. She was silent, and I was scared. Although reassured that she was fine I still felt anxious. In the moment I should've been feeling joy, and affection I was anxious. Maybe then I should've known I was slowly encountering the world of Postpartum Depression, but I didn't. I didn't know, and that's the hardest part.

She was beautiful. I'm not being bias, she was completely stunning. Her complexion was so clear, and her hair was so dark, and so thick, and such bright eyes. The visitors came, and I was still so out of it I don't really remember. It didn't really hit me until the next morning that I wasn't a daughter, a sister and a friend anymore.. I was a mother now. There I was, twenty one years old and holding my daughter. It came pretty natural for the most part. She was pleasant, she nursed OK, and she was gaining weight. Everything passed in the hospital and we got to go home right on time. I may have seemed happy at the time, but I was so fearful. I had to leave the hospital and be a mom all by myself. No over night stays with nurses, and doctors. No meals delivered on time. No maid to clean up behind me, and no one to watch the baby at night if I just needed that extra ten minutes of sleep. In that moment, I got to bring my family home.. but I didn't see it that way. I felt like I was sent off on my own. "Here's your baby. You're on your own now." Thats all I could think. It's on you. Any faults, and failures, its on you now.

We arrived home and things ran pretty smoothly. Living with my significant others parents was a great help for a first time mom. I was appreciative of the help they offered, but felt constant guilt for accepting it. In those three months we lived with family I was in fear that the extra help I was getting made me a bad mom. If you're a mom you know what I'm talking about when I say "mom guilt." I questioned if I should accept the help, if I should spend more time with my daughter, if I was doing the right thing. I was constantly questioning myself. The first day it really hit me that I wasn't just feeling the baby blues my little one was a little over three weeks old. She was waking for a feeding. I was nursing at the time, but I dreaded every moment. At the end of every feeding I would count those three hours down like it was the last ones I had left of the day. I dreaded putting her to the breast, especially considering it didn't come easy to myself & my baby - We did need a little help, and we did struggle with nursing. Knowing I didn't want to feed my child I felt concerned. I called my public health nurse and had explained to her what I was feeling, and that I had been a little more sad than usual. She advised me to see my family Doctor. 

My daughter was a little over a month old by the time I had gotten to see the doctor. I repeated to him what I had said to the public health nurse and he was sure to diagnose me with PPD -{Postpartum Depression} It didn't seem like such a big deal at the time. "Oh well, I'm sadder than I should be." However, It was so much more than just sadness.

I continued to nurse my daughter for about a week after finding out I had PPD. I was so down about nursing her, and I just couldn't find it in me to keep it up. Some might say I took the easy way out by choosing formula. Believe me. It wasn't the easy way out. It took me about a half hour pondering in Shoppers Drug Mart what formula I should buy. My significant other threw out some suggestions, but I shot those down because I wanted to make that decision. I don't feel differently towards a mother regarding the way she chooses to feed her child but in that moment I was beating myself up. Am I a good mom? Did I do the right thing? Will she still be healthy? Will people think I'm lazy? Will people think I'm a bad mom? I'm a bad mom. I did the wrong thing. I can't make the right choices. Those are some of the things that crossed my mind on the regular. I didn't feel comfortable, or happy enough to nurse but I didn't feel like a good mom by choosing formula either. Some of those emotions are some of that mom guilt I mentioned earlier, but for me it had a lot to do with PPD. {Side note ~ however you have chosen, or choose to feed your child whether it be breast milk, pumping, or formula know that you are making the right choice and you are a good mom.}

That was just the beginning. When my little one was about three months old we moved into our own house. I was a stay at home mom, which may be a dream for some women but not for me. I missed working. I missed it so much. I'll skip over that, and all the lame details about me personally.. 

My daughter was a quiet, content, sweet little girl. She slept OK, and when she woke she didn't cry.. but one day, she did. She cried. It was so unusual for me to hear her cry, and it really bothered me. Instantly I was overwhelmed, and frustrated. I wanted the crying to stop immediately. I brushed it off. Nothing serious, just something new I wasn't common with. Then she started teething, but she was a good baby. She still slept, she just chewed on everything.. but she was sooky. Every tooth meant she wanted me, more and more. I hated it. I hated being wanted. If she wanted my attention she learned that whining was the quickest way to get it. The minute she whined, I did.. I picked her up because I didn't want to hear it. As the days went by, she became a little more needy, and I started worrying I'd neglect her. I didn't really care if she was around or not. If someone offered to take her, even just for an hour I was all for it. The less I had to parent, the better I felt. {Pathetic right?}

One night, unsure of her age, or the date but I sat down thinking to myself.. just wondering if maybe she was better off without me. I spent countless hours wondering that. Those were the first thoughts that really, truly scared me. I didn't tell anyone, and I still haven't told anyone that. {Aside from my professional help} I went on about my days as normal, and I cared for my daughter alone during the day and with my partner at night, and on the weekends.

~ Things are about to get a lot more serious. If you find yourself becoming uncomfortable...stop reading ~ What scared me the most was one day I was putting her down for a nap and she just wouldn't settle. I was so frustrated the thought of hurting her crossed my mind. I used to think about hurting her often. Smothering her to be specific. If she wouldn't settle for a nap, if she cried in public, if she made a fit in the car, I wanted to smother her. First I figured all moms probably think "If you don't shut up I'm gonna kill you." You know..like some awful figure of speech. Then those thoughts were frequent, they only came when I was alone with the baby.. but I was alone with her a lot. As a month passed by I noticed that not only did I feel this way when I was alone, but when I was with others. Others who were helping. Even if she wasn't settling for someone else.. I wanted her to just shut up. The PPD trumped my regular depression, and it went right pass my anxiety. I never felt bad about wanting to hurt her, I never felt any sort of guilt..I just felt frustrated all the time. I started raising my voice at her. I raised my voice at this child, who didn't know anything about the world. My daughter. I yelled at her to be quiet, to stop it, to shut up, and I'll admit I swore at her. Some days I thought maybe the neighbors will hear me and someone will just come take her so I can calm down. I wasn't worried that they would hear me. I wanted them to hear me. I think the yelling was some kind of cry for help because I was so ashamed of who I had become as a mother I didn't want to admit I was failing... or what I thought was failure.

During this period of time I was surprised by my second pregnancy. Very surprised. Going through these emotions with my first was unbarelable, I questioned whether or not I could do it. Being a mother of two? Impossible. I feared every day that I would experience these triggers again. I worried the same things with my second pregnancy as I did with my first. I didn't get to enjoy that my body was giving me the gift of a child. My mind was constantly racing and it occurred to me that I really wasn't ok anymore. I finally told my significant other the extent of my depression. He thought I should mention it to my OBGYN as I was seeing them regularly with my second pregnancy. In my next appointment which was about a week later I repeated my feelings. He wasn't discouraging, rude, or hurtful. He was kind, and caring. He took a step back and he explained that this is common in many mothers but the likely hood that people come forward is usually rare. He told me it's something we would keep an eye on, better to be safe than sorry. He was right, and I felt a bit of a weight lifted.

Shortly after this I received a letter in the mail with an appointment for myself, and my family to see the pediatrician. What I thought was some sort of family check up turned into being the most intense moment of my life. The pediatrician talked with me about my emotions and my thoughts, she talked with my significant other about his opinions on the situation. It seemed like she was concerned, and she had right to be. At first it was just an appointment, a check up, but in such a quick second it turned into so much more. The PED had to take a look at my daughter, a full on body check basically. After looking her up and down and checking all things possible she looked at me and said "She is perfect. There is nothing you have done to affect her." As if I didn't already know that. Somehow when she said that it hurt. I felt so disappointed that she was looking at my child for a sign that I had physically abused her somehow. It just hurt so much that I came forward, I opened up, and I was honest about what I had been going through and that's how they approached it. 

The PED spoke with myself alone, my SO alone, and then with us together. When she spoke with me she asked me many many questions that I don't want to talk about. However, in our conversation she asked me If I felt I needed help. I told her I would be open to that option, if it's something I needed to do. She told me she felt with the extent of me feelings that maybe I should spend some time in the hospital to talk with the Doctors and go from there. I was more than willing to get help. If it would benefit myself, my family, and mostly the relationship I had with my daughter than I would do it. When the PED spoke with myself and my SO she started by telling us that I should spend some time in the hospital. Then she looked at my SO and said something I'll never forget, because it broke my heart. She looked at him and she said " We think Kendra should be admitted to the hospital, we're afraid that your daughter may end up dead." I broke down, I just couldn't comprehend what she had said. When we were alone she didn't say anything about that, she didn't specify. She didn't use the word dead. My SO wouldn't even look at me. I knew he was hurt, and afraid. It just broke me. 

My mind and my heart raced, although I had agreed to the admission in the hospital I was so fearful. I cried the entire ambulance ride, I cried myself to sleep that first night. I just couldn't stop crying. Is my SO going to leave? Is he going to run away with my child? Am I ever getting out of here? Will I get to see my daughter again? Is this going to help? What if it doesn't help? Am I crazy? These are just few of the things I kept asking myself over and over again. The first day I didn't leave my room. I just sat there in silence. I stared at a blank wall wondering how could keeping me from my daughter, isolating me in a room, a place with people I didn't know.. How could this help me? It took me hours to fall asleep that night. I was aloud to call, but I didn't have a calling card. Every time the phone rang I just hoped it was someone wanting to talk to me. To take my mind off the idea that I had been trapped in the psychiatric ward. 

By the second day I realized if I didn't get out of my bed I wasn't going to get over anything. I wasn't going to get better, and I'd probably be stuck in there forever. I finally left my room and spent some time in the activity room. I met many people. I heard many story's, but no one was going through what I was. That didn't matter though, because for the first time in a long time I felt no judgement. I felt like I could open up, tell my story and everyone was just there to listen. Believe it or not I made friends. I learnt a lot about people and even more about myself. I was rested, I was energized, I wasn't brain washed by social media, or the idea that I had to please anyone. I was feeling better. It was interesting. A week in a small space with new people, doctors and nurses, with silence and routine brought me back to my old self. My better self. Maybe even a new me. Someone I was proud of again. 

I spent a week in the psychiatric ward and the doctor let me have a weekend pass to see how I would do around my daughter under super vision. After a week of not seeing her beautiful face, I missed her so much. I didn't think I would with the emotions I had been feeling prior too. I was afraid she had forgotten me. She was nearly 8 months old, so a week is a big deal. When I seen her I cried of course, I held her and I cried. She hugged me, and kissed me.. she just kept kissing me. I heard her say "mom" for the first time and that moment was all I needed. That moment reminded me what life was all about. Being a family.

After the weekend I returned to the hospital to some great news. I was discharged. I was aloud to go home to my family under some conditions. I was medicated, so I had to make sure I took my pills regularly. {I am still on the same medication, though the prescription is a higher dose} I was referred to a therapist, a psychiatrist, and I had to be involved with Child Services. Those were very intimidating conditions but they were required. I had to sign many papers that gave permission for all these doctors and professionals to exchange information about their time with me. I feared child services the most. What were there intentions? Were they going to take my daughter from me? Were they going to watch me? Was I being babysat? But none of that was a worry after I returned from the hospital.

First returning home I wasn't aloud to have my daughter all the time. I wasn't even aloud to be alone with her. My time with her was supervised by my SO, or a family member. That was tough. I didn't really feel comfortable, but I understood. Over time I got to spend afternoons alone with her, and sometimes the entire day. As time went on I got to spend more time with her. Eventually we were back into our normal routine. I was alone with her more times than not, but this time it was different. I was happier, and I didn't have bad thoughts. Don't get me wrong, I still had bad days but that was OK. I was so content with my life, and I couldn't have been in a better place.

I couldn't have gotten through this hard time without my SO, his family, {his mother specifically}, my family, {my mother specifically}, my friends, and the professionals. To this date I still meet with a therapist, psychiatrist, and a social worker but we are a happy healthy family and both my children are in perfect condition.

I am very open about what I've been through, as I know PPD can be an extremely threatening illness to go through. I am telling my story mainly for myself, to open up, and get it all off my chest one last time. I am telling my story so others can understand the extent of PPD, to be more patient with frustrated mothers, to stop the judgement, and for other parents, mothers especially to feel comfortable to come forward if you are going through this or something similar. I am a survivor, and you can be too. It is and illness, but you can beat it. 

If you've read my story & you need someone I am here. Whether were friends, family, or even strangers I am all ears. I know what it feels like to need someone, but you're fearing what they might think. There is no judgement from me, only concern and support.

[kiyo-alvara-blog]

The Journal of Dr. Kiyo Alvara: Entry 1

Good evening, Journal.

My apologies for neglecting to write recently, there’s been little of note these past weeks. However I’ve had a very eventful couple of days. To get straight to the point, Gaedren Lamm is finally dead, and I’ve met an intriguing group of adventurers who helped make such a feat possible. It would seem that, willing or no, my fate has become intertwined with theirs.

Now, I will start from the beginning. When I woke the other day, I found a note placed on my bedside table. Nothing in my home or workplace had been moved or removed, so the culprit wasn’t a mere thief. The contents of the note informed me that if I wanted to track down Gaedren and avenge Kyth then the writer of the note, one Zellara Esmeralda, wished to help. The note gave me an address and specified that I should go to the location that night to meet with her and a group of adventurers who would be vital to stopping Gaedren from ruining more lives.

I took precautionary measures, of course. I brought along many of my best healing potions, as well as some formulaes, acid vials, and explosives. If things went south and this was some convoluted trap, I was well prepared to fight or flee.

When the sun was dipping down in the horizon, I took my leave and made for the address indicated. I found the door already open, and lights on within. I peeked my head inside, and heard voices down the hallway. Cautiously, I made my way inside.

I found the aforementioned group of adventurers, seated around a table. They asked me if I was the one who summoned them, which I denied. I showed them the letter which I received. One of their group showed me that she received a similar letter, signed with the same name.

Introductions were made. The first to offer his name was Garran, a tiefling and the son of Unae and Elkin Thandas. He’s quite the wide-eyed one, contrary to his appearance. He seems quite friendly, but I fear that the kind of optimism he carries rarely survives contact with the outside world, much as it pains me.

Next was Orda, a large half-orc with an impressive tower shield. He seems a friendly sort, and I shall likely enjoy his company going forward. I’ve made an offer of celebratory drinks later and look forward to getting to know him better.

After Orda was a young woman with dark eyes and a mousy look about her, who introduced herself as Sai Gwenn. The poor dear seems nice, but scared of her own shadow and the coat she wears is in absolute tatters. I have made offer to take her shopping for something more presentable, but she turned me down, claiming she liked the clothes she has.

The final member was a man named Hayden, a student of the sciences himself. He’s an interesting one, I can’t quite put my finger on him. He seems to guard his emotions well, I can’t get a good read on him. He’s clearly well learned and I respect that he’s chosen the same profession as I, albeit he has a focus on surgeries. However his proficiency with knives in a fight is more than I’d expect of someone only trained in surgery, and there’s a guardedness about him that makes me feel there’s more under the surface than I’ve seen. Still, the rest of the group are people with good hearts, so I am certain Hayden is no different. Sai especially seems connected to him at the hip, looking to him for guidance and following him like a lost pup.

When introductions were complete, our hostess made her appearance. She apologized for keeping us waiting, then explained why she brought us together. This group of adventurers had come to Korvosa in search of a woman named Rubella, a shiver dealer who had committed multiple murders and pinned them on a local carnival in the last town their group passed through. She was guilty of having made a powerful form of shiver, so potent that it caused multiple deaths before she was forced to flee Korvosa. What a waste of talent, this sickening misuse of alchemy.

Rubella, as it turned out, had returned to Korvosa after her murderous scheme had been uncovered. She fled to Gaedren with the promise that she would make a stronger variant of shiver to spread in the streets of Korvosa, making the drug lord that much more money.

Zellara informed us that Gaedren had stolen her harrow deck, which was a family heirloom, and in an attempt to get it back her son was murdered by him. One of many lives cut tragically short by his actions. I, for one, was more than happy to assist Zellara in reaping vengeance and bringing Gaedren to justice. Most of the adventuring group seemed to be in agreement on this, since they’d come to town seeking Rubella regardless.

Orda seemed to have his suspicions, however. Apparently in the last place they had been, someone had told a lie and kept a secret that caused more people to be killed, and he didn’t want a repeat of that. He told her he would be glad to help, but he wanted to know anything she might be hiding, anything that might come up later that we should know now.

In the interest of honesty and keeping Orda’s trust, Zellara did tell us one other thing. She was already dead, killed by Gaedren when she tried to avenge her son. She was now trapped, her spirit connected to her stolen harrow deck and her body’s remains, which Gaedren had kept out of some sick fascination. The room which we’d been standing in was not that lavish well lit home we’d believed, with a snap of her fingers she revealed the truth: we were in a place that had long been abandoned and forgotten with the death of its owners.

Orda seemed satisfied with the answer, if perhaps a bit shaken by her surprisingly straightforward admission to being a ghost. I admit to being caught off guard myself. It’s not every day you meet a friendly haunt, after all. Most are quite a bit more sinister.

Zellara informed us that we should prepare and seek out Gaedren’s hideout the next night, as he wouldn’t be there at the moment. Sai and Hayden decided that they would take the extra time to scout the old fishery Gaedren was based out of, while I’d decided to prepare more potions. I told the group of adventurers my idea: I would use a disguise potion and a vocal alteration potion to make myself appear as one of Gaedrens customers, someone drug addled and homeless. I would go inside and scout it out, see if I could locate the children he held hostage, and any other potential dangers. Then I would give them a signal to attack.

The plan was flawed, Hayden pointed out, as we didn’t know the interior to know how to best set off a signal, and we didn’t know just what Gaedren might do to his ‘customers’. Hayden suggested a counter idea, that he would disguise himself as Rubella’s deceased husband, using my disguise potions and a ring they had gotten off the man’s body. He would then take Sai as a ‘hostage’ to offer to Gaedren and Rubella, get close enough to them, and put a knife in their ribs. I was concerned about how realistically Hayden could pretend to be this dangerous woman’s husband as opposed to someone they’re less familiar with, like an addicted customer, but the rest of the group seemed fairly convinced it was a good plan, so I conceded the point.

We each went our separate ways, I spent the night making the potions Hayden would require for his plan, then I retired to bed for the night. I had a restful sleep. I feel as though I had a pleasant dream, although I don’t really remember it well now. I must have brewed my polypurpose panacea incorrectly, as I didn’t have the promised lucid dreams they give me.

Regardless, the next morning I met with the adventuring group in a local tavern called the Red Dragon Inn. We discussed our plans for the evening. Hayden and Sai would enter through the dockside entrance, while the rest of us would circle around back. If we heard any commotion, we were to burst in uninvited and help Hayden and Sai to dispatch any unsavory folks who might have set upon them. The plan concerned me for many reasons, but it was the best plan we had. I handed off the potions I’d brewed to Hayden and informed him of the time limit on each, telling him to be absolutely sure to drink the vocal alteration potion last, so that he wouldn’t waste any time with it on.

Afterwards, I returned home to open my office. Hayden came along, interested in what he might be able to learn from my medical practice. I will be happy to share my knowledge with him, and he agreed to share his notes as well, although he was very specific in telling me that his knowledge was purely surgical and not medical. That was fine, I’m practiced in surgery and while it’s not my forte there’s nothing to lose from reading what knowledge a college has to share. I get to meet with others in the field so rarely, I’m eager to pick Hayden’s brains. He’s only a student at the moment, but the very fact he’s in a medical college rather than apprenticing means that he’ll have experiences in the field that I do not.

Though he said a few things I found a tad off putting, if I am to be honest. For one, I heard him mention “The Lady of Graves” when he spoke to Zellara. I would like to find out what a pragmatic and intelligent man in the medical field could gain from worshipping the goddess of death. Yes, I am aware it’s a common line of worship, especially amongst those who must see death so often. Yes I am also aware that she also presides over childbirth. I still do not see the logic behind someone sworn to help heal others and prevent death in following the doctrine of a goddess who celebrates the nature of death. I can see how it’s a good coping mechanism, I suppose, but I would feel like a failure as a doctor if I needed to take comfort in the idea that my patients dying was simply fate or it’s their time or what-have-you.

I apologize. I got a little heated there. It’s a subject that utterly confounds me, and I cannot believe that an otherwise intelligent seeming man like Hayden would have to take comfort in the shallow platitudes offered by such a faith.

We also got into a conversation about the state of Korvosa after I went about setting a child’s broken leg. Her mother had no money to pay with, and the poor girl was asking if she would be able to walk again soon so that she could keep working so her family could eat. I wish I could say it’s the first time I’d heard this same heartbreaking tale, but this is all too common nowadays. I helped the child and gave them instructions on what they could do to help it heal faster and properly. Afterwards, I told Hayden what I just wrote: that this is all too common, and that there is a huge discrepancy between the rich and poor in this city. Hayden showed distain for how the city was being run, but not for quite the same reasons as I did. He said that this was no way to run a business, and that the short term gains wouldn’t outweigh the long-term consequences. Certainly, he’s not wrong. But it’s such a cold and pragmatic way of putting it when peoples’ lives and livelihoods are at state. Comparing Korvosa to a failing business doesn’t do justice to the cruelty the common folks in the city endure.

I don’t know if Hayden sensed that what he said bothered me, or he simply felt it was time to get ready for our plans. Either way, he excused himself to walk the streets and make sure he didn’t hear any whispers that might clue Gaedren in on our plans.

I closed up shop and made my way to meet the others at the inn, then we made our way to the docks. As we grew close to the abandoned fishery, the putrid smell of stale ocean water and rotting fish filled the air. Orda, Garran, and I slipped around to the back after Hayden drank down the disguise potion and readied the vocal altercation potion.

I didn’t see what happened next, but pieced it together from Sai and Hayden’s accounts later. Hayden and Sai played their parts excellently. Hayden dragged Sai inside and talked down to a violent little gnome who worked for Gaedren. When Rubella entered the picture, Hayden played his part to a tee, and had the shiver maker virtually wrapped around his finger with his quick thinking and perfectly timed use of the wedding ring.

There was one particularly dangerous part, in which I am relieved I didn’t go in by myself as I initially planned. Rubella accepted Hayden’s lie that he’d captured Sai and was using her as a hostage to keep the rest of the adventuring group at bay, and agreed to a plan to make her their drug addled servant much as they’d apparently once done to a group of skulks. However, Rubella pulled out a vial of shiver, and told Hayden they should get started.

With a level or finesse I wish I’d been there to see myself, Hayden managed to make it look like he’d forced the drug down her throat while really switching it out. If he can do that with someone scrutinizing him so closely, I bet he could give magicians and illusionists a run of their money.

Rubella and one of Gaedren’s lackeys took Hayden and Sai deeper into the fishery to work out a business proposition. It’s here that Hayden make a misstep. He tried to rush into the final part of the plan, and in an attempt to get Rubella close to him, he said that on dying he wished he would have been close to her, and that all he wanted now was a kiss. This was apparently too out of character for her husband, even if he’d died and been resurrected. Rubella called his bluff. She and Hayden ended up having a scuffle, and in the process Sai undid the knot Hayden had tied and screamed an ear shattering shriek.

Garran, Orda, and I heard the scream from outside the door, which happened to lead right into the room that the others were fighting in. Orda broke open the locked door, only to find a table in his way, which he also removed from the equation. Garran entered the room and I followed suit.

Hayden had his knives out and was facing Rubella and her alchemical bombs. Sai was…it’s difficult to describe. Her face was inhuman, she looked a bit like a monstrous humanoid bat. I’ve yet to ask her just what the cause of this form was, but she seemed fairly adept at it seeing as she took a good chunk off Rubella’s arm with a vicious bite.

I drew my bow as I entered the room and trained it on the other alchemist. I asked Rubella if she was the one who’d made and was planning to distribute a powerful new form of shiver, to which she agreed. I loosed an arrow into her, and told her that this was a waste of her alchemical talents, ruining others’ lives with her creations rather than helping others. She laughed at me, called me naïve for looking down on her choices. I argued that there are other ways to make money with alchemy, ways that help others and nurture them rather than harming and corrupting everything they touch.

Rather than reply to me, Rubella downed an invisibility potion. There was an open trapdoor nearby, which one of Gaedren’s other minions had escaped through before I’d entered the room. It was certain she’d made her escape through there, and Orda ran to follow after her. I would have gladly joined him, but the vicious little gnome had appeared behind Hayden and he looked like he needed some help. As I stepped into the room and got the gnome’s attention, there was a shout from the room I’d just left and manic laughing. Garran had been attacked by a crazed half-orc who called himself “Giggles”.

I told Hayden to try to back out of the room to give me room to use an explosive without catching him in it. The gnome didn’t take kindly to this and took a swipe at me. I’m quick on my feet when necessary, however, and I managed to avoid his attack. Then I followed up with my own attack. Not with a blade but with a bomb. The gnome knew he was outclassed, and expressed that the money just wasn’t worth it. I told him to run, then, because the only blood I was looking to spill was his boss’. I doubt the vicious little gnome learned his lesson, but perhaps he at least learned enough to find a low profile job that won’t end with adventurers out for his head.

I then went to help the others take care of “Giggles”. It was close quarters, forcing me to forego any explosives at first. However as the half-orc kept getting in swipes at Hayden and Garran, Hayden forcefully told me to hurry up and use a bomb, and not to worry about him. Garran assured me that tieflings are resistant to flames and that he’d be alright, too. Despite my misgivings, I did as Hayden demanded and loosed a bomb at the gleefully murderous half-orc. The others finished the job, and I made a beeline to the trapdoor to catch up with Orda and Sai.

Just in time, it would seem. Orda was trying to save a child who was hanging above a pit with a large alligator inside, and Sai had been deafened by a thunderstone and was being ganged up on by Gaedren and his minion who’d fled earlier.

In that moment, all other thoughts were lost to my rage. Finally, Gaedren was right in front of me. My brother’s murderer was right there. I forgot about everything else that was happening around me as I approached the scumbag. He mocked me, saying that he remembered my brother. He said I had the same weakness behind my eyes as my brother did. He laughed. That disgusting piece of trash laughed at the memory of my brother falling to weakness and dying of his drug.

I barely remember throwing the bomb. I know I said something to the man as I did, but it was all a blur. The next thing I knew, his charred body was on the floor at my feet. It was so easy. It was so, so easy to snuff out his life. I felt a knot of disgust and anger inside which hasn’t completely gone away even as I write this. There was no remorse in that piece of trash human. He didn’t beg for mercy or forgiveness. He laughed at what he did. He deserved what he got. He deserved what he got, he ruined so many lives, wasted so many peoples’ potential, just to make money off their suffering. He deserved to die… and killing him did absolutely nothing. My brother is still dead. His other victims are still dead. I’m still alone. All I accomplished was dirtying my hands. I’m a doctor, a healer. I’ve never killed someone in my life before now.

I feel sick, but this is not a disease I can cure myself of with any medicine.

The rest of the night was a blur. Someone set the building on fire. Sai fed Gaedren’s body to the alligator and freed it from its captivity, for better or for worse. Apparently she can speak to animals and convinced the predator that we were its allies. An extension of that bat-like form I saw before I’m certain. Zellara took in the orphaned children who Gaedren had been using as pickpockets, and we buried her head, which Gaedren had kept in a box as some twisted trophy.

We gathered at the inn where the others had been staying and looked through all the items we’d collected from Gaedren’s hideout before it burned to the ground. Of interest was a key shaped dagger which Hayden was convinced was cursed or haunted, and which bore a disturbing resemblance to the weapon used by the key-lock killer. I do hope it isn’t cursed, the last thing we need to be carrying around is an evil dagger. We also found a broach which bore the royal family’s insignia on it, and which we deduced had probably been stolen from the queen herself. We decided it would be prudent to return it.

I then returned home and collapsed for the night. I don’t think I’ve ever been so exhausted in my life. I do not envy the life of adventurers, if this is how it always is.

Unfortunately, it seems I am not destined to walk away from this group. In the night, I had a strange dream, which the others later told me they each had as well. An unrecognizable voice was speaking in my mind. They told me that we were going to become great heroes, protectors of the weak and innocent. I saw each member of our group in a battle against a large beast. Each member fought with the skill and power I’d only heard about in stories. Even I was there, using powerful formulae I could only dream of with my current skills. Some of the feats, frankly, looked impossible. Like something the Heroes of Sandpoint would do, not like something a ragtag group in Korvosa could ever pull off. Yet the voice promised we would get there someday.

I…have feelings about that. Not all of them positive. I don’t like that idea that I’m being tugged around by some invisible fate. I don’t like the idea that I’ll have to fight and kill again. I’m just a doctor. I’m the simple kind of hero, the kind who heals the sick and looks for ways to make the common person’s life better. I don’t need the flashy titles, the power, the danger of adventuring. I’d rather leave that to someone strong and capable like Orda, or someone like Garran, who is looking for that kind of adventure.

I feel as though I don’t have much choice, however. I am out of time to continue writing for now, it is late and I have things to do tomorrow. But I will say this: Korvosa is changing, not for the better. This city, my home, is in chaos.

[nolongertainted]

Just How Will You Receive Taken Care of Medical Scientific Studies?

Maybe you weren't even aware that it's potential but with brand new drugs being produced all of the moment, clinical research trials take place on the regular foundation. Some clinical trials (as they're also understood) take place on those having the condition or signs which the medication are meant to treat (in order to find out whether the new medication is effective or not). An case of the may be considered a new drug being given to final cancer patients. But, plenty of drug trials happen using healthy volunteers, although the identify volunteer might be significantly misleading in these cases because these volunteers have been covered their time and certainly will make reasonable sums of money when planning on participate in these trials. I will just add, until I go to detail that I appreciate that 'Home Based Business' is probably not the most accurate description to this but that I couldn't really find an even more acceptable kind. Any way, let's talk some more about how you volunteer for all these paid medi cal trials and what's involved with doing them. New drugs need to experience several stages of evaluations and approval in order to discover if they're safe for use on humans of course, if they're effective at treating the states or illnesses they are supposed to assist with. Whether you trust this or maybe not (from a moral point of opinion), then the earlier stages of this testing process require animal screening. Before any new medication have been given to humans the scientists who are developing them will possess a fantastic idea of exactly what negative effects there could be of taking them and whether or not they have been safe for individual consumption. Of course there was at least one notable incident here from the united kingdom that I'm mindful of in which things went horribly inappropriate, in April 2006. I was actually at a medical screening (just a little like a work interview to get a healthcare demo) the day the news broke about the issues with this Parexl test in London. I hadn't seen the news that morning and the first thing that the physicians asked me when it had been my change to my interview was whether I had been aware of exactly what occurred and did I do need to keep on to turn in an application for this demo. I asked whether these were analyzing exactly the same sort of medication, they explained they weren't (that the drug demo I had been employing for at that time was for a diabetes medication) therefore that I claimed I was quite pleased to go before. It absolutely wasn't my very first trial together with that clinical investigation unit, I'd done a few with them on the prior couple of years therefore that I believed I was in secure arms. The medical trials that I have inked over they years have ranged from analyzing new drugs, to analyzing different dosages of present drugs or alternative delivery methods (slow release pills for example, or injections. I have completed some at which I had absolutely no apparent results from taking the medication (I might well have acquired a placebo) to others where I felt absolutely horrible - clearly one of those first ones I did was for a multiple sclerosis drug that was administered by sub-cutaneous (underneath the skin) injection into the gut. The shot alone was painful and the major side effect of the drug was nasty influenza like symptoms that lasted several hrs. I've taken powerful opiate based pain killers - so that I spent a lot of time asleep during that trial! Generally when you execute a compensated health test you are going to have some immediately remains on this system. These may range between one or two nights per week, to a few weeks on end over the limits of the unit. I neglect the MBBS in Bangladesh SAARC Seat thing that was being tested on the occasion wherever I had a two week stay however I really do remember some of their other volunteers going a bit stir crazy and currently being extremely disruptive. Both clinical study components where I've volunteered both equally provided matters such as access, cable/satellite television, DVDs to watch, books to browse, board games to perform. They usually do not be so excited about matters such as game titles as these can cause an elevated heartrate when you're playing with them. The food ranges from pretty lousy (think about the hardest airline food that you can think of) to quite excellent (just one apparatus at which I have volunteered has their own in house chefs!) Even though some healthcare trials have periods of fasting where you never get to consume a some time (usually while some are now being fed all around you) that may feel as though torture sometimes nevertheless, you readily get over it. The volume you get paid varies from test to trial and as far since I can tell in one exploration unit to this following as effectively. You can expect whatever out of a couple #a hundred to a thousand #s. The total amount is based on the formula about the range of overnight stays you want todo so well the amount of visits that you simply make to the machine, not how 'insecure' it may be. You also get paid travel expenses for to and from the health care research components. They ought to consistently sit down you before hand (as well as sending one of the info in advance) and go through exactly what's being tested, why, what the expected sideeffects are and make sure you understand all of them. You always ought to be capable of draw at any time from an demo for any reason, but when it really is for non-medical reasons you mightn't get paid the complete volume. You mustn't attempt to go taken care of clinical research if you are scared of needles, or using blood taken (that are usually lots of blood checks) don't like clinic type surroundings or getting confined to a few rooms with people that you have not really fulfilled previously.

If you've got any type of preexisting medical illness subsequently you definitely might well not be accepted as they are often searching for healthy volunteers to provide a baseline, even but I'd childhood asthma also this also has not prevented me by carrying part in compensated clinical studies.

[memoryboxpictures]

Is thing still on..?

Wow, it's been a super long time since I posted last!

Sorry about that! I hope you weren't all sat by your media devices like "I don't know what to do next?"

What can I say, other than, I have been really busy.

It's is important to me that those who do actually read my posts, firstly trust me and find my advice useful, but also understand that I am a full time professional. Although I have time for anyone who requests it, followers don't put food on my table. My camera does however.

Some of you may have already set up and are on that crazy self-employed path!?

If so, then well done!

Here comes my next pearl of wisdom for anyone who wishes to have wisdom imparted upon them.

A lot of people I know who are just starting out are scared. This is only natural.

Your are venturing out into an alien world, well out of your comfort zone, and in most cases into a world that has already been growing without you.

You'll start to wonder how you can gain access quickly. How you can be noticed so that you can start to grow within this new environment.

Chances are you are also worried that those who have already developed in your chosen field will over shadow any opportunities you wish would come your way.

You may be tempted to seek help from the likes of your peers or those who seem to be offering 'advice'.

I can promise you without a shadow of a doubt that this will be a mistake!

The fact of the matter really, is that if you want to achieve your goals or be the best in your trade, there is no magic formula.

You can't pay someone to do it for you.

There is only one factor to your success.

and here it is:

HARD WORK

Any self employed person or business owner will tell you the same thing. Success is an uphill struggle and believe it or not, but if you want to succeed and keep doing so, that hill is never going become a decline. In fact, if you have any common sense at all you, will know that a decline in your hard work means that your success is slowing or won't even happen.

This age of the Millennial gives many the impression that they can achieve anything, that literally everything is possible, all you have to do is take it. These word smiths you encounter on a daily basis via social media, television shows, or even at business network groups will have you believe you can gain success simply by talking.

It still amazes me how the masses of people who follow these 'Guru's' have completely missed the trick? It's staring you right in the face! "I will show you how to be successful. I will teach you how to become rich". Of course they will, but you neglect notice that in order to learn these 'Secrets', you pay these guys to reveal them.

That is how they are successful! Meanwhile, you are wasting your time, and hard earned money, desperately listening to how you can become a success. You think these guys care whether you make it or not? Of course they don't. You are just another follower on their social media, driving up their advertising profits and lining their pockets by buying their latest 'how to get rich guide'.

These guys aren't professionals in the field you want to thrive in. They are however professional marketers. And they just successfully signed you up to their four part guide on being ripped off.

Listen, I know I am being blunt (as if I would be any other way) but success is a struggle. It's not easy, if it was everyone would be successful. The world just doesn't work that way. I can guarantee you this however, if you make yourself a plan, and stick to it. I mean really stick to it, adjusting only when you really have to, and working hard every step of the way. Then you can achieve anything. Just don't expect it to happen, immediately, tomorrow, in a month, week, year, ten years, who knows? Just keep moving forward. Eventually you will end up somewhere you are proud of.

That is the true meaning of success.

Now stop messing around on your phone, tablet, laptop or computer and get to work.

None of this "if you can dream it you can achieve it".

Stop dreaming and wake up.

If you work your backside off, you WILL achieve it!

"You can't climb the ladder of success with your hands in your pockets" - Arnold Schwarzenegger.

[rugohuhe-blog]

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