#I looked him up on Facebook out of curiosity and he hasn’t posted in years
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#ok ok ok#could someone pls tell me why oh WHY#I’m having dreams about someone I haven’t talked to in literally YEARS#yeah I had a crush on him back then#but I swear I was like in middle school#like it was that long ago lmao#but i would go to this New Year’s Eve party with my parents growing up#and of course their friends only had boys#so I was trying to play with them but they were also a few years older than me#so I just remember getting pushed out a lot#but then one of them was super nice and talked to me instead and idk#he was cool#I have NO clue where he is now or what hes up to#I looked him up on Facebook out of curiosity and he hasn’t posted in years#lol so same#but now I’m curious what he’s up to and how he’s doing#especially since this is literally the 3rd dream I’ve had about him in the past fucking week?#so fucking weird man#so so weird#shut up rosie
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Pre-Trial: Introducing Dr. Rosa
I wrote half of this like forever ago and decided to go ahead and finish it, because I love Dr. Rosa and everyone should get to meet her, she’s my favorite random bit character who shows up in everything I do set in a modern universe.
Danny’ s first meeting with Dr. Rosa.
Timeline: Shortly after returning to the United States, pre-trial.
Tagging @special-spicy-chicken, @spiffythespook, @bleeding-demon-teeth
Dr. Rosa Martinez has been in the business of treating the survivors of long-term traumatic experiences for twenty-three years. In that time, the methodologies have somewhat changed, as has the understanding of trauma’s physical components interacting with its psychological ones, but she has never wavered in her commitment.
She has worked with the survivors of child abuse, rape, domestic violence, abduction cases involving non-custodial parents, one stranger abduction, a woman who had lost two husbands, firefighters both, within ten years of each other to the wildfires that race through California when the winds are hot and the air stays dry. She’s been working with an increasingly large subset of military veterans returning from war with wounds within them that struggle to heal. She has, as they say, seen (or heard) just about everything.
Today, though, she is meeting someone whose experience differs from anyone she’s treated before.
Dr. Rosa Martinez, fifty-eight years old, feels something she hasn’t felt since her first year after changing her practice to focus on long-term trauma and PTSD; genuine nerves and concern that she may falter and fall short of a patient’s needs. She pats at her hair, twisted tightly at the nape of her neck to keep it out of the way, only a few of the speckled coarse white-and-black hairs escaping here and there.
She rearranges the photos on her desk in the corner of her office, over by the window, shifting the framed pictures of her daughters with their own families back and forth, smiles at the only photo with a single person in it - a brown-haired woman smiling under the blaze of sun on their last visit back to see family down in the islands - pressing her finger to her lips and then, lightly, over the woman’s mouth.
Wish me luck, Liz.
She had rearranged the bookshelves this morning, had the cleaners come in twice this week instead of once to ensure everything is well-dusted and spotlessly clean, as she’s been informed the patient is hyper-aware of mess and might become distraught if he is not able to clean it.
She stands by the window, looking out through the blinds at the parking lot, waiting for him to arrive. The patient’s profile questionnaire and basic information rests on her desk, and she’s been reading through it over and over, preparing herself.
There is a wealth of information hidden between the lines in those questionnaires, when you know what you’re looking for. Rosa Martinez has always had an eye for the unspoken, the unwritten, the details that her patients fear to speak and so tiptoe around instead.
The younger brother is the only emergency contact. The brother’s number is listed on everything, no number for the patient himself. The brother’s name is written in the space for the potential sharing of details if considered medically necessary in the event of an emergency. The brother, the brother, the brother. There’s something to grasp onto there, a detail she shouldn’t let slide. Every inch of the initial paperwork tells her that the brother is trusted implicitly, but no one else is.
She’s seen him on the news, of course. Everyone in this part of the state has heard about the Daniel Michaelson case, his reappearance after four years of prolonged captivity and essentially total isolation. Everyone has seen his parents on the news expressing gratitude and delight that he has returned home.
But the parents are not on his paperwork, and the brother had been clear, on the phone, that they would not be attending any family sessions, only he and Daniel - and that it would be best not to talk about their parents unless Daniel brought them up himself.
It’s a situation that involves similarities to previous patients of hers, but every similarity was intensified, twisted, rearranged in new ways. The conversations about the parents suggested, to Dr. Rosa, a certain scapegoat/child abuse situation she would consider more in the future.
In the captivity there was abuse and sexual assault, but it was a vicious, ritualized cycle of violence that went far beyond abuse and into pure torture. Torture for torture’s sake, the brother told her, his own jaw shaking with the effort of keeping his voice calm in their initial consultation as to whether or not she would consider taking his brother on. Torture for fun, torture to twist his brother into something else, something less.
Neither of us is going to get through this without help, Ryan Michaelson had told her, all of twenty-four years old but with the gravity of a much older man in his voice and the way he held himself, without some help. I need you to help my brother, please, because-… because I just have no fucking clue what to do. Oh, I’m sorry for my language, it’s just been a bad few days, just… just really since he got home, he’s been-… I don’t-
It’s fine, She had said, handing him a tissue to wipe his eyes while both of them pretended the tears weren’t there. Where is your brother now?
At home with his… with… I don’t know what Nathaniel Vandrum is. But he’s home with him. I’ll bring him for his first appointment, but he’s so fragile… he picked your photo out of the others, so I think he’ll come willingly, but… please. We need help, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make someone believe they’re human, Dr. Martinez. I don’t know how to help him.
This will probably be a challenge, even for someone with her experience, but she can’t imagine turning it down.
She twists the wedding band on one finger, letting her fingertip play over the square diamond at the top, trace the line of smaller circular diamonds that ran down each side of the band. Liz knows who the new patient is, of course, but she’ll also know not to ask - they’ve always had a “no work talk” rule, protecting Rosa’s patients even from her own family’s curiosity.
She knows some of her colleagues speak about their patients in oblique terms with their own families, keeping their identities secret but discussing the trials of their day, but Rosa has never done that. Her patients come to her with terrors they trust with no one else, and she would never betray that, not even with Liz.
Only with other professionals, in very specific circumstances, and with all identifying details carefully stripped does she seek advice or counsel when needed.
She recognizes the car when it pulls up - she’s seen it on the news, when the cameras catch Ryan Michaelson in his array of perfectly tailored suits in a series of richly deep colors when he gets out each day, waving them off, his jaw set as he gives the occasional statement as they prepare to take Abraham Denner to trial.
Today, Ryan steps out of the car in a purple sweater that probably cost more than Rosa’s health insurance premium and she’d swear even his jeans were tailored. Brown shoes, soft leather, perfectly worn. Ryan’s a handsome one, that’s for sure - all bright smiles and warm brown skin, wild black curls. He is smiling now as he turns and speaks into the car, before closing his own door, brushing some invisible wrinkles out of his sweater, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
First, to meet Daniel Michaelson.
She has seen photos of him, of course - but he hasn’t been in any photographs or interviews, so she was not quite prepared for the incredibly tall, thin man who unfolds himself out of the passenger side. He’s wearing an oversized, dark blue heavy sweater, heavier than the weather really calls for, with a high crew neck and cable-knit braids down the front, his sleeves pulled hard to cover the backs of his hands, head dipped down so his wavy red hair falls down over his face, wearing jeans that are clearly too big and, she suspects, only staying up because of a belt.
Daniel makes it to the curb and then stops, shaking his head, saying something to Ryan and acting like he’ll get right back in the car. Ryan steps closer to him, hands out without quite touching him, gesturing towards the office. Daniel shakes his head again, and she can see they need a minute, and steps back to give it to them.
She watches them for just a second longer, than steps out of her office into the waiting room before they can make their way inside.
“Krista,” She says in a honeyed voice, slightly high-pitched, with only a hint of the island accent she grew up with. “Send Daniel Michaelson into my office as soon as they come in, don’t make them wait. And be sure to pour Ryan Michaelson a cup of the good coffee we all pretend I don’t know you keep in the breakroom.”
“Of course, Dr. Martinez,” Krista says brightly, looking up from the book she’s studying behind the desk to give her a bright smile. “I serve everyone the same coffee, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmmhmmm. Oh, and don’t try to shake Daniel’s hand,” Dr. Martinez adds, and disappears back into her office.
She has everything ready, but rearranges her desk one more time anyway just to be on the safe side. She has a couple of photos, as well - a photo of Daniel Michaelson pre-abduction that his brother provided, a post-abduction photo she is keeping only for reference. I put this up on Facebook like the week before he was gone, Ryan had said, shrugging his shoulders, as he handed her the pre-abduction photo. I printed it out to bring. God, I don’t even know when the last time I actually used Facebook was…
22 year old Daniel, one week before he vanished, is at what she assumes is the company Christmas party. It has that sort of look, people milling in the background in cocktail dresses and suits. He’s wearing a navy suit as perfectly tailored as Ryan’s always are on TV, his hair clipped shorter than it seems to be now. The shoulders are thinner in the past, she thinks, but his body overall is definitely skinnier now than then. He’s holding a glass of some brown liquor, one arm around 20-year-old Ryan’s shoulder, the two of them smiling for the camera.
Then the next photo, which Ryan tells her the police took and gave him a copy of. Danny is standing in front of a blank wall, looking at nothing, his eyes focused off to the side. He’s wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt, which could not have been easy for him, since they showed up at the police station in Alberta on December 11th. All the brightness and sparkle is gone, replaced by a dull terror and uncertainty that can’t quite break through the placid submission in his face. She taps one finger over his face, the slightly bloody red wounds that cut into him, and then she slides the older picture onto the top as the door to her office opens.
Ryan steps in first, giving her a friendly smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. She can see Daniel just behind him the taller man has his arms folded, nearly hugging himself, his eyes focused on the floor. “Dr. Martinez, we’re here, they told us to go ahead and come right in.”
“That’s lovely, Mr. Michaelson, thank you, but I’ll have to ask you to sit outside for the duration of the appointment.”
Ryan’s face falters, but only slightly, and Rosa watches with interest and curiosity as he shifts his stance to be even more directly between she and his brother. Only name listed on any of the emergency contacts, only person given permission for sharing of medical information, and he is standing in the hallway of my office trying to protect him from me. “Are you sure? He, um, he struggles being alone-”
“N-No,” Danny says from behind him, so softly Rosa almost can’t hear him. “No, I can do it, Ryan, it’s okay. C-Can, can you let me go in? Can I go in?”
“Hey, if you’re not totally sure, you don’t have to, I can sit right here with you.” Ryan half-turns to face his brother, and they are standing within inches of each other without ever touching. Rosa watches all of it, taking the details in, committing them to memory.
“I can try to do it. I can be good,” Daniel says softly, and Rosa’s head tilts, unconsciously, as she watches Ryan Michaelson wince at the words. She’ll need to write that down, keep that in her memory, too.
It’s come in deeply handy, over the course of her career, that she has an excellent memory for the details like this.
“Okay. Let me know if you can’t do it, we can try again later, yeah?” Daniel nods, slowly, and Rosa watches Ryan take a deep breath, close his eyes, and then turn back to her. As he does, his shoulders go back, and his voice changes - the softness slides away, replaced by a kind of hard melodic sound, the voice of the company man he is being groomed into and not the caring, worried, frazzled younger brother. “Okay, here’s the thing - don’t touch him, don’t get too into his space, and, um-”
“My name is Red,” Daniel Michaelson says, and he’s still not looking up, he still has his eyes firmly on the floor. “My name is Red and I belong to Abraham Denner.”
“… and he still does that,” Ryan says tiredly, and steps back. “Call him Red, he gets really worked up if you call him anything else.”
“Because it’s not my name anymore,” Danny says, and there’s just the barest hint of annoyance there. Ryan rolls his eyes and Rosa fights back a smile; you can hold someone captive for four years, she thinks, but brothers are brothers, still, in the end.
Rosa doesn’t move from her desk as Daniel Michaelson steps into her office. He’s even taller in person than he seemed in the parking lot, all hunched over like he can make the height or his bright and eye-catching red hair disappear if he just curls over far enough. He glances at her, briefly, and she catches a hint of light blue eyes and the circle of red scarring across his face, the scars that wrap his neck like a collar he can’t take off.
She knows about the collar - Ryan warned her it comes up in conversation. She is prepared for this. She has a career uniquely situated to make her absolutely perfect for this. She has the experience that no one else in Northern California has, the experience and the dedication and the passion for helping people like Daniel Michaelson.
And yet the nerves that flutter within her stomach never quite subside.
When Daniel is all the way in and Ryan has closed the door to return to the waiting room, Rosa waits for a beat of silence, watching Daniel put his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like a small child awaiting punishment for an infraction rather than a grown man seeking therapy. “Do you prefer to be called Red?” She asks, finally, with no change to the warmth and welcome in her voice.
“My name is Red,” Daniel says, a little more firmly this time. “You, you have to call me that. That’s my name. I get, I get in trouble if I have the wrong thoughts, and that name is a wrong thought. Puppies don’t have wrong thoughts. My name is Red and I belong to Abraham Denner.” The words seem to have a calming effect on him, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders and the way he is holding himself. “Can I, may I have permission to sit down?”
“Of course,” She says warmly, and then watches with surprise as Daniel Michaelson sits on the floor in front of the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Ah, Daniel-… my apologies, Red. Would you prefer to sit on the couch for our first session?”
“Not allowed,” Daniel says, and she watches him begin to rub, compulsively, at one of the red scars dug hard into his jaw on the left side, rubbing and rubbing with his thumb, his other arm sliding around his legs. His hands are scarred along the lines of his veins, heavy obvious markings. Ryan had warned her about those, too.
He is curled into the smallest little ball she can imagine someone so tall turning himself into.
“I’m not allowed. Only people get the couch, puppies stay on the floor. Not allowed. I, I have to be good, I want to be good. I want… I want to be good,” He repeats to himself, plaintively, and Rosa’s heart breaks, just a little.
Nothing shows on her face, but Rosa takes in the moment and wonders if she is perhaps in far, far over her head with this one.
Then she picks up a pad of paper and a pen and settles herself into a small armchair off to the side, nodding. “Is that one of your rules? Your brother told me that there are… guidelines, that you live by.”
Daniel Michaelson nods, his eyes down on the floor. She can see he’s rubbed the scar at his jaw until it’s open and a little bloody, and she takes the tissue box from the table next to her chair and slides it across the floor until it bumps into his shoes - worn-out Converse sneakers that can’t be comfortable in the rainy chill outside.
Probably they were shoes he wore before, and probably Ryan offered him new ones, and probably he refused.
Daniel looks up at her, confused, and she takes in the blue eyes again, surprisingly vibrant in the pale, freckled face. She doesn’t let her eyes drop to his scars, not at all. She holds his gaze and smiles, slightly. “You are bleeding, Red.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” He takes a tissue and presses it to his jaw, dropping his eyes back to the floor. Rosa settles back and makes a couple of introductory notes on her notepad, trying to decide where to begin.
“Th-they want me to testify,” Daniel says, surprising her by being the first to speak. “But I, I don’t want to. He’ll look at me, he’ll look at me. I don’t want to. But they said I, I need to, they want me to. Ryan wants me to. I’m… he’s going to look at me. I don’t want to, but Ryan says, but I need to be good…”
“I understand,” Rosa says softly, nodding. “So is that what you’d like to focus on, as we get started seeing each other, Red? On being able to tape the testimony for the trial?”
There’s a silence, and then Daniel slowly nods. “I want to be able to do it,” He says softly. “For Ryan. Ryan wants me to do it. I want to, I want to do it, but I don’t want to do it. I feel both, at the same time. I want to do it but I shouldn’t, against the rules, against… against the rules. But I want to, Ryan does, Ryan wants me to. I want to but I don’t want to.”
“You’re feeling ambivalent about this - torn in two directions by your competing instincts. That’s perfectly understandable,” Rosa says softly, still writing, a constant stream of her impressions and thoughts and what Daniel is saying. “I think you’ve identified a very strong starting point for us, Red. I’m very happy to meet with you today, and your brother has scheduled you to see me twice a week while we get to know each other and once a week after that. Does that sound acceptable?”
Daniel frowns at her, confused, as though he can’t figure out why she’s asking. Then he slowly nods. “Can you make me able to do it?” He asks, from behind his knees. “Talk to the lawyers about what happened?”
Rosa takes a breath. “I can’t make you do anything. But if you want to, I think that your sessions with me may be able to help you work through what you need to have the skills to make that decision for yourself, and begin building a foundation for future decisions from there. Does that sound like a good plan to you?”
Daniel is silent, tissue still pressed to his face, then he slowly nods. “Oh, okay,” He says softly. “Whatever you want. I can be good.”
Rosa nods, slightly and gives him an encouraging smile. “Wonderful. And if you need to, we can call your brother in at any time. All right, Red. My name is Dr. Rosa Martinez, and I know you’re aware of that, but while you’re in this office, I want you to call me Rosa or Dr. Rosa, is that all right?”
He nods at her again, but a little more of his face comes up from behind his knees. “Y-Yes, I can do that, um, Dr. Rosa.”
“Perfect. That’s perfect, Red. Now let’s begin.”
#Daniel Michaelson's story#introducing#Dr. Rosa Martinez#whump#trauma recovery#recovery whump#conditioning#dehumanization#pet whump#broken whumpee#Daniel Michaelson#tw: PTSD
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SPIDERMAN EXPOSED BECAUSE OF TAYLOR SWIFT ADDICTION: What Is Peter Parker to Spider-Man?
This shit that has been going on for months now has finally been solved. For the longest time I’ve been following Spider-Man oh so very closely, eager to find out his identity—not to expose it to the media vultures, oh no, our hero deserves more than that. But… to satisfy my own curiosity. He’s the only Avenger hiding his identity, you know? You’d think they’d be okay with it after all these other superheroes get to run around freely…
Anyway!
As you all know, countless names have been linked to Spider-Man. He seems close with Tony Stark, but that’s hardly relevant. There’ve been links to JD Slinger, the American Pop Singer, in a very poor attempt to sell records—you’re not Hannah Montana JD fucking Slinger! Stick to your trash music!!!
However untrue and disappointing Slinger’s attempt at fame is, he’s not the only one with musical elements that is linked to Spider-Man.
A few months ago, a viral video entering adorable and kind of pedos-get-the-fuck-out-of-here-territory circulated around the internet and into our nightly news, as does every baby goes viral video does. You can check it out on the link below for a good dose of endorphins.
[Link: Baby boy wants to be Taylor Swift, re-uploaded by djflash]
[Description: A six-year old boy is standing in the shower with a towel draped over his body like a makeshift cloak, he is clutching his tooth brush on and seems to be furiously lip syncing. The camera shakes as the person behind the camera stifles laughter.
May Parker, the original uploader and aunt of the then-toddler Peter, asks: Aren’t you tired Peter? From all the singing? You’ve been singing for two hours. Aren’t you cold?
Peter is intensely staring at the mirror as he lip-syncs but pauses to look at May. He says in a tired and raspy voice: Yeah, but, but my fans! I need to sing, Auntie May, for the fa— [looking harried] DROP EVERYTHING NOW, MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN—
The sound of Peter singing is drowned by May’s scream as Peter falls on his butt, having jumped with his passion for the song, and tripping.
It cuts off with May laughing while taking Peter in her arms, phone capturing her picking him up and hearing Peter crying as he tries to get back to the mirror: It—doesn’t hurt May. Need to get back—my! My concert!
Video ends]
Now how does a viral video of a baby Taylor Swift fan connect to Spider-Man?
Well, May Parker posted it on Facebook when Flash Thompson, who claims to be a good friend of Peter Parker (although I highly doubt this, he’s only in it for the clout and Spider-Man’s love, click here for more on Flash), decided to share it to everyone. One of his reposts on Twitter propelled it to viral success.
Weeks later, May Parker decided to bless us again with more content by taking a video of her now teenage (17 years old—PEDO’S STAY AWAY) nephew singing, once again, a Taylor Swift song.
[Link: I’m so glad im seventeen and can properly thirst upon this wonderful hooman]
[Description: They are in the kitchen this time and May Parker is being discreet with her video-taking. A Taylor Swift song ends softly from his phone’s tiny speakers. A Spotify ad interrupts but the video cuts it off two seconds later for another Taylor Swift song to filter in.
We take in the scenario. Peter is in his pyjamas, shaking his booty while singing Stay Stay Stay. He flourishes his hands a few times, dramatizing, “That’s when you came in wearing a football helmet, and I said, [he changes voices] “Okay, let’s talk” [he finishes one pancake and pours a new batter in before using the ladle as a microphone, as if in anticipation for the moment, and, back bent, face scrunched up, belts: STAYSTAYSTAY I’ve b EEN LUH-VING YOU FOR QUITE SOME TIME- TI-HIME! YOU THINK THAT ITS FUNNEH WHEN I’M—OH MAN, I spilled batter on my shirt!”
The camera shakes with May’s silent laughter. Peter does not seem to notice. He looks side to side, almost as if he is looking for something to wipe the batter with, but there are no paper towels in sight and his shirt is dripping with the excess batter the size of his fist.
In the most compelling, and understandable, moment of decision making, Peter has chosen not to be responsible and strips instead, to the utter delight of seventeen-year old’s in the world (and ONLY those younger than that! Pedos, I swear to god, if I see you, I kill you, that last blog was the last time you make me burn my eyes!)—a wonderful set of abs and toned muscles you would not expect from a seventeen year old boy singing to Taylor Swift with the squeakiest voice in the world. Adorable. Ten points for my good boy ranks.
The video ends with Peter staring further at the shirt and licking at the batter before it violently cuts off to the roaring laughter of one May Parker]
It is peculiar, to watch May navigate the wonders of technology, too, because the first video was on her Facebook years unnoticed before Flash Thompson unearthed it for the world to see (Mr. Thompson, what exactly were your intentions going through a beautiful May Parker’s Facebook pictures?). But this time, she also apparently intended to send it to Peter’s friend’s Instagram account. However, the fluke came when she posted it and tagged them instead.
People who have followed her upon the first viral video have now decided it to be God’s work to distribute the video, making it viral within days. The very same people were the ones who noticed that Peter Parker’s singing style is the very same as Spider-Man’s.
I hear you gasp. Well, of course. I spit my tea as well, when I realized it too.
See, unless you were living under a rock, about a year ago, Spider-Man was exposed as a Taylor Swift fan when he saved a ten year old girl and began teaching her about the History and Influence of Swift’s discography and career, before proceeding to sing with her the hit song Speak Now. All of it was caught on camera, of course.
The people who spread this new video started a conspiracy theory that Spider-Man and Peter Parker are very similar people. One user @finn-man-the-aquaman pointed out that Spider-Man and Peter Parker’s voice are very similar. Another user @maxine_and_spider-man compared the dance moves from the two videos, putting frames of each steps beside each other, and found that it was so uncannily similar that it couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was an interesting point to make, because both Peter and Spider-Man had particular steps, all seemingly on a whim, but also matching each other perfectly. They are by no means good dancers, God no, but their whimsical dancing looks like two bad dancers following one choreography, couldn’t follow it technically but committed to it emotionally.
Twitter user @emiliar summarized it the best: the chest pump, the feet extension, the little jig, and the butt shake, before leaning backward and singing at the height of their emotions— apparently this is a common dance choreography?
To which @pissshitcry responded with a video that would bring us the wonderful breakthrough that I’ve been walking you all through.
[VIDEO uploaded by spidermansavedmetwice]
[Caption by @pissshitcry: No. Apparently: ]
[Video Description: Spider-Man is swinging through the buildings before stopping by Midtown High School, in front of a harried looking student, screaming frantically, and this is it folks: CAN YOU GIVE THIS TO NED LEEDS, TELL HIM SPIDER-MAN THANKS HIS FRIEND PETER! tHANKS! Before zipping away
Video ended]
Now. Okay. I know, calm down guys, I’m trying so hard not to run up the hills and do an Irish Jig, because I am so, so, so excited about all these new revelations! Nobody has quite documented this, too, so people, watch out for more of my content in a few weeks.
SO! Implication one: Spider-Man knows Ned Leeds.
Implication two: Peter Parker helped Spider-Man somehow.
Implication three: Spider-Man knows Peter Parker.
Cut, do it again, but with more emotions: SPIDER-MAN KNOWS PETER PARKER.
Let’s zoom back to a few weeks after the viral hits and Taylor Swift posts a video of her watching the video and then saying into the camera, with that iconic red lipstick and perfectly sculpted eyebrows: I have never thought this would be something that will happen to me in my career ever, but seeing a super-hero sing praises about me and teaching my [and she quotes from Spider-Man’s erratic explanation about her history] “unattainable song-writing prowess equal to that of the rock singing legends of ye old—” really does bring a smile to my face! More than that, Peter Parker is an absolute cutie too! He looks like such a sweetheart, baking those pancakes, apparently, for her aunt? Be sweet to your aunts guys! But also. I came here to cordially invite both Spider-Man and Peter Parker to come out to my concert in New York in two weeks! I’ll be there May 25th at the Lincoln Center, and maybe we can all sing together!”
She ends the video with the iconic Spider-Man wrist flip. The video has been circulated and has now gained over an estimated 100 million views.
It sparked a buzz of interest among the people, Peter Parker having received much of the spotlight. He hasn’t said anything in relation to Spider-Man but had reluctantly agreed to go to Swift’s invite. And I cannot emphasize the reluctant part. Kid looked so uncomfortable, but maybe he’s just shy!
Okay. Now, this thing is the most glaring indicator of what I will be telling you. The night of the concert. Everyone is there for Swift, but everyone is also there waiting for the much-awaited Spider-Man and Peter Parker saga. Halfway into her song list, Taylor Swift stopped to talk. The time has come.
Peter Parker walks into the stage, and the crowd welcomes him with adoring cheers, similar to Swift’s entrance herself. She introduces him, even though she absolutely does not need to, and the people scream their approval.
When Swift gives him his own mic, he almost drops it before catching it with his incredible reflexes. Swift calls for Spider-Man to reveal himself, much to the delight of the crowd, chanting his name as if it was a concert for him, which, in many ways, it kind of was. However, Spider-Man didn’t appear after that and the duo had to continue on.
It was a cute performance, with Parker stumbling a few times before getting the groove with Swift and belting it out as well. Everyone joins in on them singing and enjoying her old songs, Swift smiling and laughing the whole time.
Peter leaves the stage Spider-Man plushies and roses thrown for him, to which he received with a graceful bow. Swift resumes her concert after a few hearty jokes thrown in—but wait! What’s that?!
A screaming insect crashes at one of the large LED walls at the stage and the camera [and the collective crowd] is surprised to see the superhero—SPIDER-MAN!
“Ehehehe, hello Miss Taylor Swift, Ma’am!” He says, in a particularly deeper voice. Autotune? Before they sing it out, as they would—Swift laughing, and Spider-Man trying—Spider-Man explains that he was nervous meeting Peter Parker, before scrambling to correct that it was Swift he was nervous about meeting.
Swift then teases Spider-Man about a potential crush, which.
BRINGS US TO MY BREAKTHROUGH POINT.
TAYLOR SWIFT WAS ABOUT TO BRING US THE GAY COUPLE OF THE CENTURY, BUT SPIDER-MAN WAS TOO CHICKEN TO GET TO IT.
Okay, alright, I hate pedos, and we don’t exactly know Spider-Man’s age but we do know that he’s very young, what with all the pop culture references he’s been dropping with the intuition of an internet native. So, he’s young, alright? Possibly Gen-Z, even. Here’s a post you can see about his age analysis.
SPIDER-MAN. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. PETER. PARKER.
[Insert hand chopping movements]
AND THEY ALMOST HAD A CUTE MOMENT ON STAGE HAD SPIDER-MAN BRAVED IT THROUGH.
PETER PARKER, AND I MEAN, PETER PARKER! SPIDER-MAN HAS A CRUSH ON YOU!
We’ve established that Spider-Man knows Peter Parker. They’ve met. Peter has possibly helped, or even saved Spider-Man himself. Now, saving a superhero is something that not just anybody does. And Parker himself is a student at Midtown Science High—he’s a smart kid! And seeing as these events just happened months apart, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to imagine them meeting again, perhaps, with Parker making pancakes in dewy mornings, and a tired (and yearning) Spider-Man is watching from the windows as Peter dances along to Swift’s songs.
The watching from the windows theory and thus getting to know the choreography might not be so creepy if you factor in the fact that Spider-Man might be hiding his crush for Parker’s safety!
It is like the modern incarnation of Super-Hero romance, only now, its more inclusive! To exist in such a beautiful world, and to watch such an innocent tale bloom in this cruel, cruel world. We could only hope to see more of them together, maybe as something... more?
--
COMMENTS:
reblogged by thunderstrike: this is like someone trying to overanalyze twilight for some depth—THERE ISN’T ONE!
thunderstrike reblogged by spidahmanna: come on, give them some credit at least for recounting the most batshit insane crossover in the universe as we know it so far
reblogged by skdfas: this person needs help, but very entertaining to read
reblogged by nedleads: oH MY GOD
reblogged by kliyon: new ship, age appropriate Spider-Man x Peter Parker
reblogged by ekeke: um yes, i need a dash of meet-cute with one cup of flavored angst—soda please, I like it to hurt— large fluff, a BFF serving of some of them yearning, and a happy sad-meal for one please.
reblogged by unaunann: im done with this site, who wants to burn the internet with me?
3, 000 reblogs in 1 day
--
Tony, reading the blog: Hmmm…
[Later]
Tony: Okay so I read this blog and I have remedied it.
Peter: Oh my god thankyoumisterstark I swear I didn’t mean to—
Tony: You are now the biggest shareholder for Spotify because I know you don’t want me to pay for a premium account, but if you’re gonna listen to those damn ads while singing to Taylor Swift, at least earn from it, you know?
Peter: …that’s what you took from the whole thing?
--
NEXT ARTICLE: The Avengers film a parody of Queen’s I Want To Break Free. Is Captain America is as beautiful as Rogerina, or is he too buff??? Tony Stark is an iconic drama queen, perfect for Freddie Mercury, and more!
#spider-man: far from home#Spider-Man: Homecoming#spiderman#taylor swift#tony stark#fluff#WHO WANTS A REACTION FROM THE AVENGERS FOR THIS#Spider-Man Identity reveal#parody#fake blog post#avengers#fanfiction
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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-One: Raindrops ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]
Another early Winter day...another bout of rain.
Waking slowly, Hinata peers out from her bed, blankets brought up to her nose. Unlike the chill outside, her room is nice and cozy, the temptation to linger in bed a while longer strong indeed. But eventually she stirs, slipping out from the sheets and making to dress. Tank and shorts are exchanged for a wooly sweater dress. Combined with tights and boots, she’s ready for her day.
The space upstairs isn’t the biggest - much like a studio apartment. The kitchen is tiny, combined with a place to sit and eat. A couch and a desk in a corner serve for as much of a living room as she can manage. Everything is a theme of white and lilac, little space left over beyond the necessities. But given that the shop takes up the entirety of the downstairs, there’s only so much space here to work with.
Not that she minds. Hinata’s always been a bit of a...compact person. While not against open spaces, she just...doesn’t have a use for them. Each square foot has a purpose here, and there’s less room for clutter or a need to be cleaned.
A win in her book.
Breakfast is a simple affair: eggs boiled yesterday are peeled and sliced on top of toast with a little salt and pepper, black tea with a small dollop of honey helping to wash it down as she checks her phone. The news, as is typical, offers only dreary, depressing topics. Her Facebook is full of people presenting only their best sides. Hardly realistic, and inspiring more insecurity than happiness.
But she’s never really been the sort to linger on such things. The social media she has is mostly just to keep in touch with people. The connection and yet distance is just perfect for her. She chats with friends from high school when it’s convenient, but doesn’t have to sit through several hours of in-person interaction that just drains her more than it satisfies her.
Once she’s at least part way caught up with the ways of the world, Hinata tidies up after herself before heading downstairs, unlocking the door at the bottom of the stairwell that leads to the back of the shop.
As always, the smell of flowers hits her like a very pleasant ton of bricks, and a smile blooms over her face. Everything is just as she left it the night before. Shelves of supplies are fully stocked, her arrangements of plants near the windows to entice passersby to come in and take a closer look. The floor was swept before bed, and the lights come on to bathe the room in a pleasant ivory hue.
While some people drudge on in their day to day lives, Hinata counts herself very lucky to have a job she loves every day.
Having twenty minutes before it’s time to open, she does one last sweep of her inventory, making sure nothing is empty or misplaced. The coolers holding cut and pre-arranged flowers hum in the quiet, and Hinata uses the last bit of time to water the plants in the windows. Raindrops slither down the panes, warping her view to the outside like a watercolor painting. The tones beyond are mostly dreary, greyed out by the overcast weather.
But Hinata loves the rain. And Winter as a whole, even if it means most plants are dead or sleeping. In here, and in the attached greenhouse, she gets to be surrounded by them all year round. And help others enjoy them, too!
Just as she finishes, the clock strikes nine, and she flips the sign in the door to, “Open”.
Of course, she doesn’t expect many walk-ins. This time of year, most of her patronage comes online, or on the phone: people ordering bouquets, for the most part. As much as she loves arranging flowers, it does make her sad not to see more potted plants sold. After all, cut flowers only last so long. Pretty and eye-catching...but so quick to wither. A bit of a waste, really.
But not everyone can handle a full-time plant, of course. And she’d rather someone unable use cut flowers than let a live plant fade.
Checking her website in the meantime, Hinata finds a handful of new orders, moving them to her tablet as she gets to work creating the arrangements. Most probably won’t come to pick them up until tomorrow, as per her warning to wait at least twenty-four hours. But she might as well get them done now, just in case something else comes up to -
Jingle!
Coming up a bit short as the bell over the door rings, Hinata blinks wide eyes in surprise. A customer! Given the rain, she’d assumed few would bother to come in!
A man stands by the door, shaking off his umbrella just outside before closing it and stepping fully inside. He gives the shop a curious once over before spying her by the counter.
“Hello,” she greets, giving a smile. “How can I help you, sir?”
“Uh...looking for a plant…”
As always, Hinata withhold a small snort at the comment. Given he’s come to a flower shop, that much is...typically obvious. “Of course! Do you have anything specific in mind?”
“Not really? I...don’t know much about them, in all honesty,” he replies, a hand at his neck.
“May I ask what the occasion is…?”
“Just a bit of a pick-me-up for my mom. She’s got those Winter blues, y’know? And she always has a garden in the Summer, so...I thought maybe having something in the house would give her something to do.”
At that, Hinata perks up. “I see! Does she, um...have any favorites?”
“I really don’t know,” he offers, giving a small huff of sheepish laughter. “I barely know what any flowers are regardless.”
“I see...well, what about a favorite color?”
“Well, most of her flowers tend to be bright. Yellow, orange, red...mostly red, I think.”
“Hm…” Hinata moves to the front, looking over her collection. “Amaryllis is usually a good choice. They’re v-very easy to care for, and have very pretty red blooms,” she begins, gesturing to one she has in a dark green pot. “And she can move it outside in the Summer! Every year it will get a little bigger as the bulb grows.”
“...bulb?”
Hinata hesitates for a moment. “...um...sort of like an onion…? It’s a s-structure for the plant underground, and the plant grows up from it. It allows a plant to be a perennial, meaning...it will come back multiple years, rather than just one, like an annual.”
“Oh...well, I guess that will work.”
...she hasn’t shown him anything else, but it seems he’s not picky in the slightest. “All right! Do you like the pot it’s in? I can change it out if not.”
“That should work.”
“Perfect.” Taking the plant from the display, Hinata sets it on the counter and starts ringing up the exchange. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some color in all this dreary weather, huh?”
“Yeah, that was my thinking. Mom’s always been the sort to really dim down during the Winter. She likes the snow when it’s still fresh and pretty, but when it’s just rainy and foggy, it sort of wears on her.”
“Understandable,” Hinata agrees.
“Hey, uh...how long has this shop been here, by the way?”
“Well...let me think…” Hinata pauses, counting the times. “...at least about twenty years?”
“Whoa, seriously?”
“Mhm.” Scanning the barcode, Hinata fiddles with the register. “It was my m-mother’s. She divorced my father when I was very young, and came here. The shop owner employed her, and we lived upstairs. Eventually she managed to buy it. She passed away a few years ago, and...it’s been mine since.”
He suddenly feels rather awkward, shifting his stance a bit at the somber subject. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you…”
“I just, y’know...thought you looked kinda young. I looked online first and saw you run the place.”
“I’m twenty-four.”
“Huh, me too. Did you go to school here…?”
“I was homeschooled.”
His brows lift. “Wow...so your mom worked and taught you? She must’ve been one hell of a woman.”
That earns a warm but somber smile. “...she was. Her name was Hanako.”
“Guess that explains why I don’t recognize you. What was your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“...oh! It’s Hinata. Hinata Hyūga.”
“I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Nice t’meet you.”
“You too.” Smiling a bit more genuinely, she gives him his total, accepting cash and giving him the proper change. “I h-hope your mother enjoys her flowers!”
“Maybe I’ll come back and let you know how it goes. And uh...see if I need anything else. Uh...do I need anything else?”
“Not for now, no. I keep everyone properly watered and fertilized, but she’ll likely need some plant food and fertilizer once it runs out. And once it gets too b-big for the pot, it’ll need a bigger one. But she should be all set for now!”
“Ah, thanks.” Cradling the pot in one arm, he prepares to open his umbrella with the other. “Have a nice day.”
“You too!” Skirting around the counter, she holds the door open for him, waving as he makes his way down the sidewalk. Huh...he walked…? In this weather?
...what a strange man.
Curious, she pulls her phone from her pocket, doing a little digging through a few friends’ Facebooks. Within a minute, she finds him: a mutual friend of several of her own. Huh...funny how they’ve never crossed paths until now. Of course, her being homeschooled is likely to blame. She knows a few girls her age through her mother’s friendships with their mothers, but otherwise she’s rather...reclusive.
Curiosity piqued, it takes her a moment to remember she was indeed working on something - or, starting to - when he arrived.
Best get back to work.
.oOo.
Random modern flower shop AU cuz...I felt like something a lil fluffy lol - also this idea for the family dynamic wouldn't leave me alone. In other words, Hanako leaves Hiashi before having Hanabi, so she doesn't pass from birth complications. She DOES still die a bit young, but gets to properly raise her daughter on her OWN terms. Might be something neat to explore in a canon setting at some point, too. Anywho! Sorry for missing last night, I just...had a day that kept piling things on, so I took the evening off to spend some time with my brother. It was a much needed break~ But! I'll be back in a jiffy to post another so I don't fall any further behind! As always, thanks for reading~
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Title: Buy the Stars Chapter Title: Guardian Angel Chapter: 2/? Fandom: snk/aot Pairing: jeankasa Summary: Should he try to google what he saw? How we he even google that? Girl with scarf that turns into sword fights werewolf looking creature? A/N: Long time, no see. It's been like what, five years since I posted the first chapter? I've been rereading a lot of my old fics and I decided I really wanted to continue this one. The concept is really interesting and there's a lot of ways I could go with it. FF.NET | AO3 Previous Chapter
Jean lets his backpack flop the ground with a loud thunk , not caring much about the condition of his textbooks. He stumbles further into his house, headed for the kitchen. His mind is reeling. What the hell had happened back there? His hand grips the handle of the refrigerator door for a solid two minutes until a voice breaks through to him, causing him to jump a foot in the air.
“Jean?” his mother is standing there, concern written all over her face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She asks, stepping closer to her son.
“Oh,” he says, removing his hand from the handle. His palm is sticky with sweat and he wipes it on his jeans. “I zoned out, I guess.”
She nods, humming. “Okay. Are you staying in tonight?” Her voice is soft. It’s been much softer than usual since Marco…
Marco.
What the hell had Mikasa meant when she said Marco had failed at protecting him? As far as Jean could tell, he was fine. He doesn’t need protecting. Well, maybe from that werewolf looking thing he had seen her fighting, but in normal situations he has no issue keeping himself safe and out of harm’s way.
Did Marco fight those things too? How did Jean never know? He’d known Marco since preschool, so there’s no way. Mikasa had to be wrong.
“Jean?”
“Sorry, it’s been really hot out and the school doesn’t have AC,” he says, “I’m staying in tonight. I might draw, I’ve had a few ideas.”
Jean’s mom’s face light up the moment he mentions drawing. It really had been awhile. Since that night. “That’s great!” her smile is bigger than Jean’s seen it in a while. “Let me know when you get hungry and I can throw some dinner on.”
“‘Kay,” he says, and his mom retreats back upstairs. Jean finally opens the refrigerator, reaching in and grabbing a pitcher of lemonade. The sugary concoction was the one and only thing that has gotten him through so many hot Trost summers.
He races up the stairs to his room, plopping down at his desk. He sets the lemonade far from his laptop, not wanting it to spill all over. He opens the internet, humming somewhat impatiently as it takes its time to load. Even the internet is being affected by this never ending heat. Great.
When it finally does load, Jean doesn’t quite know what to do. Should he try to google what he saw? How we he even google that? Girl with scarf that turns into sword fights werewolf looking creature?
Yeah, probably wouldn’t get any results from that one. Instead, he settles for googling Mikasa’s name. Her last name was Ackerman, right?
Not much really pops up. He finds her facebook profile, but it looks like it hasn’t been updated in a few years. Her picture must old because her hair is much, much longer and she doesn’t look quite as tall. After some stalking, he finds out her birthday is February tenth and she’s originally from Shiganshina. It’s a small suburb not far from here, but he stills wonders what would bring her to downtown Trost. Why was she protecting himof all people? And why did she kiss him so suddenly? There was anything romantic about the situation. Normally he would be ecstatic about someone so beautiful taking an interest in him, but this felt all wrong.
Regardless, he still runs his fingers over his lips. What would it be like to actually kiss her?
He shakes his head, dropping the thought. After today, he should have no interest in her.
But still, he can’t help but wonder.
Saturday afternoon rolls around, and with that, Sasha. She shows up on Jean’s doorstep at noon, snacks in hand. The sprawl out on Jean’s living room couch, taking in the amazing thing known as AC. They both eat quickly with hardly any conversation, but it’s comfortable. This is how they’ve been for a while. Things have changed a lot since the accident, and neither of them had the same spark they used to.
Sasha wipes her hands on her shorts, completely ignoring the fifty thousand napkins stuffed in the take out bag. “Are you ready to game?”
“Mm,” Jean hums, still working on his fries. No one can eat as fast as Sasha.
She turns towards him and grabs a fry.
“Hey!”
“Shh, I bought them. It’s okay,” she says, her voice mocking a hypnotist.
Jean rolls his eyes.
“But really,” she says, her tone much more serious, “something is bothering you, but I can’t tell what it is.”
Jean stuffs another fry in his mouth, not quite knowing how to answer. What was he supposed to tell her? Sasha was probably one of the only people who would believe, but he still thinks he would sound too much like a nutcase. Swallowing, he says, “It’s really messed up, Sash.”
She leans closer to him, curiosity written all over her face. “What?” she asks eagerly.
“You know that new girl in our algebra class yesterday?” he pauses as Sasha nods vigorously, all of her attention focused on him. “Well, I ran into her on my way home and it was… weird, to say the least.”
Sasha’s brows furrow, “What happened?”
“You’re going to think I’ve gone insane.”
She shrugs, “Tell me anyways.”
“...Fine,” he says, a large sigh slipping through his lips, “I heard fighting coming from an alleyway. It wasn’t like normal fighting though, there was screams and growling, like an animal. I peeked my head around saw this massive monster, kind of like a werewolf, I guess? And there was Mikasa, with a sword, going at that thing. She killed it and then turned her sword into that red scarf she was wearing in class. She told me that Marco was my like guardian angel or some shit, and that since he was dead, she was his replacement? And then…” he trails off, playing with one of the few fries he had left.
“And then?” Sasha pushes.
“And then she kissed me. But it wasn’t romantic or anything like that. I don’t know what it was, really.”
Sasha, nods for a moments, her eyes wide as she takes in this information.
“Do you believe me?”
“...You really didn’t know, did you?” She asks. Her voice is hesitant and he can’t really read the look in her eyes.
“Know what?” he says incredulously.
“Marco was your guardian angel.”
A/N: So, what do you think? It's going to take a bit to really get into it, and I think Jean is going to spend a lot of time confused in the beginning. I'm happy with it so far, and hopefully I can make future chapters longer.
#snk#shingeki no kyojin#jean kirschstein#Mikasa Ackerman#jeankasa#a dreamer's writings#otp: let go of her
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Kandomere x Reader - Notice Me
lucacangettathisass replied to your post “Got any requests?”
Could I please request a kandomere x human reader one shot where the reader is completely oblivious to kandomere's feelings even though he flirts with them a lot, subtly and unsubtly, and it is Hell Someone Free Him From This Torture Montehugh Stop Laughing
This is a continuation of all my other Kandomere ‘fics where the character is a jeweler. I use ‘I’ and first-person perspective because I think it flows better as a self-insert. This story is also known as ‘We Learn the Author Doesn’t Know How to Flirt’
My flagship store had been open and thriving for several months before Kandomere graced us with his presence. It was a Monday, April 21st and sunny out. Funny how your memory works when something important happens. I could hear my ovaries popping in my ears when he walked in, a leather jewelry box in his hand. All my male attracted staff stopped to catch a glimpse. We’d had plenty of attractive people come in before, being in the heart of Elftown and the best jeweler in the city (Seriously, there was a poll), but his aura enhanced it. He was mysterious and powerful.
I had a feeling about him, that he was important; that he is in general and would be to me. Love at first sight, maybe? The instant he stepped in, his moonlight eyes were on me. Was the feeling mutual?
“Hi!” I greeted him, “Is there anything I can help you with?” I was thanking every deity listening that I didn’t stumble on my words.
Kandomere walked up the counter, “Yes, I would like this to be restored.” He opened the jewelry box and a silver gorget laid inside on a bed of velvet lining. It was scratched and beaten to hell.
I leaned over the cool glass counter to examine it and carefully removed it.
“May I ask what happened?”
“Let’s just say, an occupational hazard. Will you be able to save it?” Kandomere asked, a bit of worry in his voice.
I examined it further, “It’s definitely in bad shape. Scratched, warped. Did someone run over it with a car?”
Kandomere said nothing, but his look said, ‘It’s a long story.’
“These scratches are deep around the engraving, I’d have to completely redo the bottom text, but yes, it’s salvageable. I’d say it’ll take a week, week and a half and probably around $150 ish.” I grabbed some forms from under the counter. “If you’ll fill these out, I’ll get right to work on it. Pretty simple stuff, your contact info, mostly.”
Kandomere nodded as he filled out the forms.
“Just so I know what I’m working on, I need to know how old it is and if it’s magical or not. The last time someone on my staff or I didn’t ask before we started work on restoring a piece, Brandi ended up breathing fire for a week and it was a complete disaster.”
“That’s how I met my fiancé, the firefighter,” Brandi chimed in from the back.
“That’s awesome and all, but how about you get around to updating those forms she’s talking about before, I don’t know, someone summons Bigfoot for a commitment ceremony just because they looked at a toe ring wrong.” Matt jeered at Brandi.
Kandomere gave a light chuckle, “I can assure you, it’s rather plain for elven ware. No curses or embedded magic. It was my father’s, I’d say it’s at least fifty, sixty years old.”
I nodded as he spoke. I wrote up his ticket, gave it to him and replaced the gorget back in the jewelry box.
“I greatly appreciate you taking this on, I can’t see how it’ll be an easy project.” He said as he shook my hand.
His hands were the perfect combination of softness and strength, the hands of someone who was not afraid to work but also took care of himself.
I smiled, becoming infatuated with this man, “It’s not a problem at all. I look forward to the challenge.”
As soon as he was gone, the story erupted into woof whistles and giggles.
“Oh. My. God. He was gorgeous!” Violet squealed, kicking her feet in her chair.
“He could cast an elven spell on me any day.” Matt whistled.
“He’s single! I didn’t see a ring! Did you see a ring? Because I didn’t see a ring!” Avery exclaimed.
“Chill out guys, we’ve had legit celebrities come in here and no one freaked out this bad,” I said, trying to calm everyone down.
“None were as hot as him.” Matt countered, plainly.
“Okay, okay, whatever. Just get back to work. We’re a place of business, not a middle school cafeteria.” I sighed but still found humor in the situation.
I started work on the gorget that day. I used my phone to translate the text. ‘Elves above all. Above all elves.’
That left a bad taste in my mouth. He was one of those elves. Why was he so nice to me? Did he even know what it said? Was he playing a trick on me, hoping I’d screw it up so he could leave a bad review proclaiming the humans were indeed idiots?
While it made me uncomfortable, it gave me the incentive to do my absolute best. I blew up the image to capture every dip and swirl of the ancient language. The text would have to be the last part I worked on, but curiosity got the better of me. I had to at least reshape it first.
It wasn’t long until Kandomere was back, three days to be exact.
“Oh, hello!” I said, “Did you want an update on your gorget?”
“No,” Kandomere said, “I was interested in a custom piece. A brooch, to be specific.”
I loved custom pieces. They allowed me to be creative and to surprise my clients. I looked forward to a lot of those projects each day, but as long I was working with jewelry, making it or repairing it, I was happy.
I smiled, “Follow me back and we’ll get something sketched out for you.”
“Did you have any design ideas or references?” I asked as we sat down in my office, my pencil and paper ready to sketch.
Kandomere looked momentarily thrown off, as though he was completely surprised I asked such a question. Later, I would learn that this trip to my store was just to see me and he hadn’t prepared that far in advance.
“Filigree.”
I’d also learn that he only blurted out the first word that came to his mind. He was lucky it was appropriate.
I started sketching the whimsical pattern. “I’d recommend a single gemstone in the center, probably an amethyst or sapphire. Your coloring leans into the darker jewel tones as for complementary colors.”
Why did I say that? Elves had known their complimentary color pallet since they knew what colors were.
I passed him the rough sketch, “What do you think?”
Kandomere looked it over, “Perfect. I’d be honored to wear it.”
I beamed at the compliment, “Great! I can have it done sometime in the week after next for $250.”
He nodded in agreement.
“I’m sorry if this is personal, or makes things awkward, but I translated the text…” I had to say something, it had been needling me for days.
Kandomere knew exactly what I was getting at, “It is a harmful and outdated sentiment which I do not believe in, but the gorget was my father’s and I can’t bear to part with it. Maybe one day I’ll be able to lose it in a drawer somewhere, but that hasn’t happened yet.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. He must have met a lot to you.”
Kandomere nodded and changed the subject, “Nevertheless, I am eager to see your work.”
“And I thank you for your patronage! Your gorget will be done next Friday. It’s already looking sooo much better.” I said as we left my office. No paperwork today, we already had his info from last time.
“I have nothing to worry about when it’s in your skilled hands.” With one final look at me, he was out the door, into the bright sunlight.
It wasn’t until that night I wondered if he really was flirting with me. My skilled hands? Did he mean that double entendre? Was I reading too much into this? I sighed and turned on a podcast, burying my thoughts in refining gemstones.
As Friday rolled around, I was excited for him to see the gorget once it was completed. Every time I heard someone come in, I looked up, hoping it was him.
Around noon, it was finally him. “Kandomere! Hi, I have it right here!”
I kept the gorget in its box close to me. His moonlight eyes widened when he saw it. Momentarily, he seemed speechless.
“It is magnificent. The level of artistry is exceptional. It looks better than new.”
“I’m happy I could restore it for you.”
“I can’t thank you enough, honestly.”
“It’s my job, no need!”
Kandomere paid with his card and returned to work. Once he was gone, everyone flocked to me.
“He likes you.” Brandi grinned.
“He was totally flirting with you.” Avery giggled.
“Ask him out!” Violet implored.
“CALL HIM!” Matt urged.
“If you don’t, I will,” Fabian warned.
I scoffed, “You all are crazy. If that was flirting, then that mom of two from this morning was flirting also. And I’m not saying that because I don’t feel pretty or anything, I just genuinely don’t believe he was flirting. Also, isn’t incredibly unprofessional?”
No one had strong rebuttals and lost interest, returning to their work.
That night I curled up in bed and unlocked my phone. I had a few notifications from my business accounts. My store’s Instagram and Facebook had been liked from the same account. Kandomere had followed my accounts. Out of curiosity, I snooped on his profiles. His Instagram was blank, leading me to believe that he had just created to follow me. His Facebook was locked up pretty tight with privacy controls, but I did get a look at his selfie profile pic.
A schoolgirl crush bloomed in my heart. Maybe the handsome and mysterious elf did like me. I feel asleep with my phone clutched to my chest and smile on my face.
Kandomere returned a few days later to pick up his brooch. With him was someone who I could only guess was Hagrid’s American cousin.
I was just as excited for Kandomere to see his brooch. I felt I kept it simple while still retaining the signature elf whimsy. I was pretty proud of it.
“Hi! Are you excited to see your brooch?” I asked.
“I could never grow tired of the wonders you create,” Kandomere answered.
I awed internally. How sweet! Okay, that was probably a flirt.
I pulled out its box with my logo on the top and presented it to him.
A satisfied smile appeared on his face. “You have amazed me once again. How do you do it?”
It was a rhetorical question, but I still answered. “Hard work and some talent, mostly!”
“Is that what I think it is?” American Hagrid asked in disbelief.
Fabian was working on a leather wrist cuff that was signature to a famous musician. I loved the band myself and they were in town for a show. They were performing at a small and intimate venue instead of a large arena show. I wanted to get tickets, but they sold so quickly, all I could get was one seat. I didn’t want to go by myself, so I decided to be more vigilant about when the tickets would go on sale if they came back.
“Indeed, it is my friend,” Fabian replied, pride in his voice.
“I’m still amazed when people like him come in,” I said, “I’ve listened to him since I was a teenager.” The musician was so famous, no one had to say his name.
“He likes that band too.” American Hagrid said, nudging Kandomere.
“Whaddya know so does she,” Fabian goaded, nodding towards me.
“Would you like to accompany me to their show?” Kandomere asked, bit embarrassed by everyone’s comments, but still found humor in it.
“Yeah! If I can get tickets, that is.” I said, not thinking.
Kandomere and everyone I worked with looked at me expectantly.
“Jesus, this is painful,” his friend said, his face buried in his hand and gruff laugh.
“Oh, shit, you’re asking me on a date,” I said, nearly dropping a box of findings in shock. “Wait, are you really?”
Me? I was human. I didn’t have perfect, effortless looks or supernatural powers. I worked for everything I had. Elves just had things handed to them. Let’s be real, my brand was so popular largely because I was exploiting elves’ love of useless, shiny things. It was only a plus to them that I was actually good at what I did.
Kandomere grinned and nodded, “Yes, I am.”
I giggled and nodded, “Yes, I do!”
That was the first of many ‘yeses’ in our relationship.
#lucacangettathisass#kandomere#bright#bright fanfiction#kandomere x reader#kandomere fanfiction#kandomerefics
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I had a dream about a friend I had when I was young a couple nights ago. And despite the last mental image of him being a 11/12 year old boy, he appeared as a full grown man around my age in it.
Out of curiosity I looked him up on Facebook and sure enough, it was him. Strange how accurately your own mind can imagine certain things, especially the time-appropriate face of an old friend.
I usually send someone a message when I dream about them; I take it as a way of the universe letting me know they need to be checked in on. I’m conflicted about this though. It’s been so long.
Anyway, he made this! Hasn’t posted anything new in a while, but I’ll still look forward to the day he does.
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Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie - Review!
My History with Hey Arnold!
Hey Arnold! It’s about time! Before I dive into the Jungle Movie itself, a note from history and the person writing this review. At the time of this writing, I am 29 years old. Yes, I am a late 80’s baby! And with that, I grew up in the 90’s…When we didn’t all have cell phones, the internet, online multiplayer gaming, and going outside to explore was daily life. What else was good about the 90’s? The cartoons…and, one specifically? Hey Arnold.
I remember at the time, Hey Arnold was a new thing in 1996. It would air during a two-hour time slot dedicated to after school cartoons called CITV. My Nan would pick me up from school at 3:00pm, and we would be home by 3:30pm, just missing the first cartoon. That was ok though, because beyond all else, my favorite by far was Hey Arnold. I used to sit with my Nan watching, and because Hey Arnold was SUCH a real-life show, it got my curiosity running wild. There was so much in this show that grabbed me, that taught me and that made me feel certain emotions for the first time. I would spend hours thinking about episodes and bugging my nan with questions about what we just saw. It must have driven her crazy.
In the many years that I watched CITV after school, not many cartoons from that time period stood out to me as well, apart from of course…Hey Arnold. And, I have fond memories of watching it with my Nan who, sadly passed away in the year 2000. I was 12 years old.
Hey Arnold “concluded” a few years later. And while I still loved the show, I was starting to move onto other things. Still waiting for TJM which, never came. In those early days of dial up internet, it was hard to find information if you didn’t know what you were doing. And thus, I entered my teenage years with the Hey Arnold book closed…But, for how long?
Fast forward to my early mid-twenties. OMG life, right? Real life? This sucks. Crisis after crisis…Let’s try and dive back into something that gave me some good feelings and thoughts. I know! I will dive back into some cartoons…Lets rewatch some childhood favorites, such as Recess and Hey Arnold.
Re-watching the Hey Arnold series as an adult was like watching a different show entirely. The emotion, the truth about how life can be so cruel, the real world problems these characters faced and most of all, Helga’s undying love for Arnold which of course, I shipped immediately. After finishing the Journal, I was devastated to find out the story of TJM being cancelled. I researched, signed the petitions and with little hope of Hey Arnold ever coming back…I counted my blessings and moved on into other fandoms, which would consume the next 5-6 years in terms of obsessions.
It wasn’t until about two years ago, I stumbled across the news that TJM would happen. And honestly? I was excited but not ecstatic. I had moved on and completely obsessed with other fandoms. More TJM information started to fly around, and I slowly started to become obsessed again. It’s only really in the last year or so, that I have re-watched the whole series, followed the news and subscribed to YouTubers. And with that, I’m hooked again.
Leading up to The Jungle Movie
So, with my history with Hey Arnold covered, was that really important? Yes! Because like many of fans, it’s a story of growing up with this show and how returning to the things you loved can bring back the same happiness. But now it’s time to dive into The Jungle Movie!
Where to begin? Craig gave us so much insight to this movie to get one internally screaming! But, at the same time, he didn’t reveal too much as to give us the whole plot. The balance was truly perfect. We would have the answers that we wanted. Where are his parents, and would Arnold and Helga ever be?
SDCC 2017. The first sneak peek is shown and boy! I remember that afternoon so well. My heart was skipping beats watching. Look at this! Look at the animation, how spot on the voices are, look at how true they are to the original characters. It felt like an absolute dream! No revival can be this good? Can it? The more and more footage and screenshots that got released…The more and more I got obsessed and excited. Honestly, at first I wasn’t too keen on Arnold and Helga’s animation. I felt at times it was too different from the main series, especially Helga. That point aside, we were still getting The Jungle Movie soon! And I’m sure it’s not going to ruin anything for me. Hell, it might even grow on me!
In the leading months and weeks to TJM being aired, it had become my main obsession again. Craig’s weekly to daily Instagram posts became something I kept checking my phone for; the previews got me running from my desk at work to a toilet, so I could watch and fangirl in private. This was amazing! I knew this ship would soon be canon! But also, we would find out the answer to the biggest Hey Arnold Mystery of all time: Arnold’s parents.
By now, I was part of Facebook groups, being as active as possible in YouTubers live streams, meeting other fans at ComicCon, and the best part…Making friends within the Hey Arnold community. I was so ready for The Jungle Movie.
The Jungle Movie
As a 10-year-old watching the show back in season 1, I would’ve had a glass of orange juice. Now, as a 29-year-old watching the premier of The Jungle Movie for the first time, I had a glass of wine in hand. The movie kicked off, and the palpitations in my heart were disturbing my comfort. But I didn’t care, Arnold was back on my screen for the first time in many years.
The first dream sequence was painful and emotional. He finds them, but they keep leaving him? This must be a huge fear for him. The wine is needed and straight away this film is grabbing me, it had my emotions from the first scene. Buckle up girl…It’s going to be a long night! Arnold subsequently wakes up, and the main plot of the film is evident. But, this is a cartoon! Cartoons are meant to be funny! Luckily, Hey Arnold has that balance of comedy and emotion, because here enters Grandpa and Grandma to smooth over that first hill of feels. The boarders haven’t changed apart from a slight change in voice, but nothing that’s upsetting. And a pig eating bacon? No I quite agree, that is not ok haha!
With Arnold meeting Gerald on his stoop with friendship thumb wiggle, accompanied by familiar backing of jazz music, it’s apparent that Hey Arnold has kept that original vibe. And I couldn't be more excited to see what was in store! Like bumping into Helga in the next scene. Classic! Helga’s introduction into the movie was our typical old Helga. Leaving her temporary home at the beeper emporium while arguing with her father Bob.
The Jungle Movie has aged with the current time in terms of technology. The characters are only a year older from the original series. Beepers (or, pagers as they are known here in the UK) are not a ‘thing’ anymore with the ever-growing cell phone industry. A small but clever gag was Phoebe explaining what a beeper actually was to our younger audience watching. On another note, Bob’s company is failing as beepers are now obsolete. You get what you deserve Bob!
We see our main characters bump into each other just like tradition. Helga’s behavior hasn’t changed (thankfully). She is still love struck, but quickly raising her defensive walls (shout out to Francesca Marie Smith for keeping her character so true). But one thing that really struck me about this encounter was Arnold. He was reacting to her differently as he would in the original series. Instead of his normal frustration at Helga scolding him, he just smiles, offers to help her up and laughs to her attempts to push him away. “Whatever you say, Helga” with an almost flirtatious look on his face. Wait WAIT, why is he acting like this? Is this a call back to him knowing her feelings after the confession at FTi? Very interesting!
We move onto what seemed like a classic episode of Hey Arnold. Arnold and Gerald working as a team to win a contest. Helga scheming to help then win in a hope to win his affection, and ultimately them winning leading onto the main plot of the movie. I thought this was an incredibly clever call back. It was like being back in that Hey Arnold magic. It felt so true and pure to the original series.
Arnold Shortman, A 10-year-old signing his passport and confirming a long term mystery of his surname. Which was right under our noses for the last 20 years. So, Mr. Shortman, you promised your Grandpa not to search for your long lost parents. Your grandma is hilariously dressed up as a Jungle explorer. Keeping her wacky antics is nothing but a pleasure to watch. Are you ready to go? What could possibly go wrong?
Olga is coming! What could possibly be worse for Helga? Again, the writing stays true to the original show. Helga living in Olga’s shadow and being neglected by her father in favor of Olga. Sad but true. I feel that the amount of neglect Helga experiences from her dysfunctional family reflects on the way she feels her emotions so strongly. She has a lot of love to give and just wants to be loved in return. She is so used to disappointment and neglect which is why she puts up her defensive walls and bullies people away. She doesn’t want to get hurt. The only thing she can express is anger. I feel that is why it is so difficult for her to show the real love filled Helga. She is expressing herself in the only way she knows possible that will keep her safe. But over time we see her brave enough to let her true self seep through…More on this later!
We see our favorite class of PS 118 saying goodbye to parents and loved ones. A huge call out to Mr. Simmons, who is saying goodbye to his gay partner. We don’t see LGBT awareness much in cartoons. As someone who is part of the LGBT community myself, I felt this was a very warming addition. Thank you Craig and team! On the subject of Mr. Simmons… How hilarious was he with his agenda? From the fictional city of Hillwood, to the fictional country of San Lorenzo, my friends, welcome to the jungle.
Here we are guys, after how many years, speculation and imagination…We are finally here with Arnold and his class in San Lorenzo! But remember to be at the docks at 3:00pm to catch the boat down river. Our captain is Eduardo; anything suspicious about him? Many of us from the get-go were suspicious about “Eduardo.” Now here he is, in front of us ready to pilot this boat, and straight away he is fixated on Arnold. And what the hell did he say about tuna anyway? (Yes, I know it was Fortune ;)) Sure, it COULD be his parent’s best friend. We don’t actually have any recent images of him and he may have aged…I mean…He seems friendly, welcoming and genuine. So far anyway, right? But we all know…this “Eduardo” fellow has a huge part to play and we all know it’s not going to be in Arnold’s favor.
It’s our PS118 students as funny as they were 15 year ago. And, I for one am so happy to see them keeping us entertained with their old antics. Arnold, however, is away from his friends and with “Eduardo,” speaking of his parents and hoping to find some answers. But remember, he promised not to go looking for them and Arnold is a boy of his word…right?
I felt Arnold was more out of character than anyone in this movie. But who can blame him? He has the opportunity that he has waited for his whole life: to find his missing parents. With such an opportunity, Arnold takes a risk under false assumptions, which inevitably leads himself and his friends to danger.
Speaking of Arnold being out of character and his development…something stuck out to me and few other fans about his behavior towards certain friends. We see Arnold obviously concerned for his friends’ safety and how he is struggling to keep composed after he is sworn to secrecy by “Eduardo.” Gerald, his best friend of whom Arnold never hides anything from, is the first to confront him. And to my shock, Arnold hides the truth even though Gerald is not oblivious to the fact something is going on…Arnold?
Instead, Arnold opens up to Helga…HELGA. And poor Helga…she has struck up the courage to finally (and again) confront Arnold about her feelings. Hoping that her efforts to get him there to San Lorenzo had nudged at his heart strings, Helga is frustrated when Arnold opens up about his fears of getting his friends in danger while he plans to look for his parents. Again, he opens up to Helga, and not Gerald. Is this maybe a sign of his feelings and trust in her?
We can understand Helga’s frustration and feels of rejection when Arnold dodges out again of her confession. Even though technically, they were having two completely separate conversations. Helga takes this as the last straw. To all of our gasps, she gives up all hope of Arnold retuning her feelings and destroys the most precious thing in her possession since day 1: her heart shaped locket of Arnold. Devastating right? Brainy?
The vibe of the movie is certainly starting to take a turn into unfamiliar territory. Craig Bartlett said, “Friendships will be tested,” and I guess, these are those tests. When you think things couldn't go anymore wrong for our gang, well…it does. They are attacked by river pirates. Eduardo, claiming Lasombra is behind the attack, tells Arnold to hide and forget about his friends…hmm…still trust him, Arnold? By this point, any trust I had in this guy was completely gone.
Epic sword battles, fights and rapids. Our PS 118 friends take the most dramatic journey of their lifetime. Clinging on for dear life, we are all on the edge of our seats hoping that no one falls overboard…Even Curly, who is having the time of his life up on the crows nest. After a rough ride, we end up ship wrecked. We can breathe a sigh of relief that no one is thrown overboard, apart from poor Eugene. But who didn’t see that one coming? But never fear, He’s ok! As he is his own lifeboat.
With some truths coming to light about Arnold being involved with why the attack happened, trust and friendships begin to suffer. It was heart breaking seeing Arnold being avoided by his friends…Only “Eduardo” there to help him up during their long-suffering hike to the safety of the camp. But for me, Rhonda absolutely stole the spotlight here… Come one, We are all Rhonda…taking selfies, refusal to part with one’s luggage and being absolutely traumatized at the thought of hiking through the jungle. Her reactions and deliverance had me laughing so hard. That is certainly something I would like to see more of in Hey Arnold future.
The montage of our PS 118 class traveling through the jungle was a chance to demonstrate some of our characters individually. It was fun to see Nadine having the time of her life collecting weird and wonderful bugs, Sid crying on the floor after the unfortunate demise of his beetle boots (good call back there), and Rhonda struggling to just do…well anything. These kids never fail to make me laugh, even today! They all have something special and individual about them.
We are about halfway through the movie now, and if you made it this far, thank you for sticking with me! Now, let’s move on to what we have suspected all along…“Eduardo,” right? Wrong…if you didn’t suspect something of this guy, then go back and watch again, because this guy had something about him from the get-go. Our “Eduardo” is actually none other than the film’s villain…Lasombra. DUN DUN DUNNNNNN.
We then learn the true intentions of the class trip to San Lorenzo. It was all a scheme conducted by Lasombra just to get Arnold there. Unfortunately for our football headed amigo…he’s already put a lot of his trust in this guy. And he was wrong to trust someone who won’t give out a Wi-Fi password.
As the story continues, I felt nothing but mixed emotions. I found myself laughing, and then soon wiping tears from my eyes. We have so many sad moments that tug at our heart strings. Helga’s monologues expressing her love for Arnold have always been some of the most rewarding scenes from the whole Hey Arnold series. The writing and deliverance from Francesca is nothing short of spectacular, and let’s face it. We’ve all been there! Arnold giving up whilst in-prisoned hit me so hard. His voice was full of regret and defeat. Arnold, the boy who is always so optimistic, has given up.
It takes Helga to talk him out of his depressive state, and to accept the challenges ahead of them. Helga is already sticking to her guns and coming out of her comfort zone to assist Arnold. Seeing her comforting him and really being there to offer her support, which Arnold accepts is just so heart-warming! A sign of things to come with these two? Maybe.
Secret pathways, using beepers to create a homing beacon, and a pig eating shrimp cocktail in first class? The only thing missing from this movie is violence…wait no, it’s got that as well. I was surprised to see such brutal deaths of Lasombra’s guards. Although it’s kept fairly ‘clean’ with no blood (thankfully), we do see a guy getting hit by multiple arrows, one guy plummet to his death, and another bunch of guys getting crushed by rocks. That’s quite a few on screen ‘implied’ deaths. Who said TJM had no action?
I doubt this movie could mess me up more than it already had, but boy was I wrong. The emotions were about to kick into overdrive, and I have only had 1/4 bottle of wine left by the time Arnold, Helga and Gerald had found the Green Eyes. The answers to all our questions of the past fifteen years were soon to be revealed. As a long time fan of the show, it was so special getting to see these mysterious beings for the first time. The way they acted, spoke, lived and looked was something one could only imagine for all this time. Not only were we about to get our answers, but so was Arnold.
The hidden city of the Green Eyes was absolutely spectacular. The animation and the amount of detail put into this habitat was an eye saw which dropped jaws. We soon learn of the heartbreak that happened to this society: the adults were all asleep…for the past nine years! While nine years of sleep sounds like a luxury to most of us, joking aside, for these kids they have been functioning on their own for all that time. We start to learn about the final moments recorded of Arnold’s parents: the murals. WOW, was this hard-hitting. It’s the first sign of his parents that this poor kid has had in years, and you can tell just how desperate he is for answers.
The final pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall in place. It was just down to Arnold to do that final act. The problem being, it’s still a puzzle. And Arnold has no idea what to do. Before he can even start to figure it out…yep, what we were all waiting for: Lasombra.
Now, how many of you expected a young chief to throw a blade at Lasombra…A BLADE. I mean how badass was that? Followed by our trio and gang of Green Eyes kicking the wind out of this guy, unfortunately he was armed with a sword, and no one wants to go up against that unarmed. So, we all know what’s going to happen now. Lasombra is going to take what he came for with Arnold in tow.
Dragging an unwilling Arnold by his side, Lasombra reaches the (classic) rickety old wooden footbridge with the certain death plunge below. As they cross, we see Helga and Gerald appear behind them. Despite Arnold’s warnings and pleads, Helga and Gerald continue without any considering for their own safety. I mean wow, this thing is hanging by a thread, and these two kids are attempting to cross just to save Arnold. Can we get a round of applause for completely bravery and loyalty here? But this is a cartoon, that bridge won’t snap right? RIGHT?
Arnold has a dilemma in front of him. He has to solve this puzzle fast before his friends plummet to their deaths. OK that’s cool…it’s not like I’m already on the edge of my seat or anything. Arnold faces the Corazón with his amulet in tow. Sweat pouring down his head and full of determination to save his friends, we see his green eye tracing the steps needed to unlock the treasure inside. Once unlocked, Arnold is pushed to aside and Lasombra looks directly at the heart of gold in all of its pure beauty. Unfortunately for him…he is not as pure and ends up with a poisonous dart in his forehead.
Screaming in pain and heading for the cliff edge which, he inevitably falls off, (yeah byeeeee). Arnold is finally free to help his friends who are still clinging on for dear life. Our hero slips, falls and only just manages to grab onto the same plank Gerald and Helga are clinging onto. Now, top up that glass of wine here guys, because this is where is I almost downed a whole glass. Arnold and Helga meet each others eyes and they just widen. You didn’t need any dialog to know what was going through their heads here. Arnold was finally seeing Helga for her true self, her bravery, her loyalty and that she really does love him. Here they are about to die, and all of this is too late to act upon. They just stare at one another waiting to die, talking only with their eyes. Would somebody please throw them a life line before I jump at my TV?
That life line is finally delivered from the REAL Eduardo, and I can finally breath. There is hope! One thing that grabbed me about what happens next, while Eduardo starts explaining what has happened and how he has been following them. Helga is taken in by the Corazón. Now, I remember back in The Journal, Miles stating to not to look directly into it because they say it’s too sacred. But yet here is our girl Helga…mesmerized and staring directly at it with her hands placed on her heart. No poisonous darts being fired at her. Yes…I was worried for a moment there.
Of course, Lasrombra isn’t dead and climbs his way back up the mountain to finish what he started. With the two fully grown adults getting into a fight over a mustache, pushed and thrown. Helga is the first to run in to assist dragging a bag to place over Lasrombra’s head and using her fist “Old Betsy” to smash him in the face a good few times. This girl is just outstanding and an overall badass. Unfortunately, we see the Corazón fall off the cliff edge to be lost(?). Lasombra finally meets his ends once the poison takes its final effect and he once again falls to his death. “He died like he lived, full of poison.” 10/10 for the sass there Eduardo.
From one heart wrenching scene to another. Now, with Eduardo in tow, he is able to translate the native Green Eye’s language. Once back at the hidden city, Arnold is finally told his parents are there, and that the Green eyes will take them to where they lie. Um, Excuse me? Where they LIE? Could that mean? No…you can’t do this to me…after all these years and the last hour of pure emotional feelings. You’re now going to tell me they are laying there peacefully? I honestly by this point was on invested into the story being told that I hadn’t put two and two together like most of you have already. Instead, I was off my sofa bitterly nose to my TV in suspense to finally find out what happened. As Arnold entered the room, seeing them there pale-faced, sleeping so peacefully hand in hand…I whispered no to myself while a stream of tears started running down my face. I was literally Arnold by this point. After all those years here they are…And here is Arnold seeing them for the first time.
“Are they-?” No, It’s the sleeping sickness. OF COURSE! Wait that means…they are alive? They are alive? I actually laughed as I let out a small laugh in relief. And no, I really didn’t catch on that they had caught the sleeping sickness, not in 15 years. As it was explained that the Corazón was the cure, my heart fell again. But no, it can’t end like this, There HAS to be a way right? Seeing Arnold crying over his parents’ lifeless bodies while Helga and Gerald look on in complete shock was heart breaking. But of course, our girl Helga has a solution.
I honestly didn’t know how Helga would fix this. They knew what they needed and what they had to do. But, they had lost the Corazón. When Helga approached Arnold with a possible solution, I fully expected her to hand him the Corazón. I thought maybe she had taken it while she was staring at it. That was the only thing my mind could muster in those few seconds. I never expected her to open out her hands and present Arnold her golden locket with his picture in. That object that has been a huge symbol of her life for so many years, she is sacrificing so much in that one moment. It’s not only her most precious possession, it’s her true identity. Everything she has kept hidden and inside for so long was out on offer to help Arnold.
This selfless act was causing more and more tears to flow from my eyes. I later thought about this more in depth and theorized the following: Helga mentions her locket is just gold plated and it’s not pure of heart. Now, how would Helga know the Corazón was a pure heart? And anything in its place would need to be pure? Because she stared into the Corazón and felt that pureness. This is why I think she didn’t get a poisonous dart shot at her. Because of that connection with pure hearts, and Helga’s heart is a pure as they get.
Helga doesn’t think highly enough of herself to feel that her locket will work. It takes Arnold to give her that push in confidence and guys, this couldn’t have been more cuter or tear jerking if they tried. “I think your heart is more pure than you know.” He finally understands her.
Pure hearts, loyalty, dedication, love, friendship, determination and Brainy being a saint in retrieving Helga’s locket got us to where we are now. We are about to witness what we have all wanted from Hey Arnold in so many years. Helga’s locket worked, and the cure rains down upon those in deep slumber. Butterflies start to flourish as the cure takes effect. Does that mean? Arnold runs to his parents’ chamber with the most dramatic heart sobbing music in the background. This was it, finally the moment we had all be waiting for, his parents…Arnold parents, of whom have been missing for nine years with no contact. In front of Arnold eyes, they wake from a deep slumber and the first thing they see is their baby. Hey, Arnold. His eyes replicate my own as he runs towards them. He did it, and I couldn’t be more happy even though I was a sobbing mess with no wine left.
The story was concluded. The mystery which lingered for over a decade was now solved. Arnold stood with his parents and celebrated along with the Green Eyes. Miles and Stella’s work was finally complete. It’s a sight we all wished we could see for so long. But our hero wasn’t there? And even after just being reunited with his parents, Arnold noticed Helga sneaking off. Helga was trying to retrieve her locket, which I thought was both a funny and sweet touch. Because after everything, that locket still symbolizes so much to her. After being interrupted by Arnold, Helga still tries to put on her tough girl front and hides her true self still, but Arnold is no longer blind to who Helga really is. With his words, we know that Arnold is seeing through her, seeing the real Helga and finally, after seeing her being so brave, loyal and willing to give up so much for him, he is ready to accept her love.
Even though Arnold didn’t outright say how he feels about Helga, I am a true believer of actions speak louder than words. We have seen how Arnold has acted towards Helga his entire movie. He silenced Helga, she literally had no come or no way out for the first time ever. His act of confirming how he feels about her is sweet beyond words. He takes her hands and offers her a mutual kiss like a true gentleman. The two of them share a moment with their lips locked, and it couldn’t be more beautiful. I was almost angry when Gerald walked interrupted the moment.
The adventure was over. Arnold wakes up in his bed and he is immediately concerned. Oh no you don’t, do not tell me that was all a dream. I am screaming profanity at my TV whilst a near identical scene is played from the beginning of the movie. Was that really all a dream? Please for the love of raspberries no. Please, please no. Arnold’s eyes widen and fill with tears when he thinks that it was indeed just a dream. But they wouldn’t do that to us…and in come Miles and Stella with breakfast for our forever moaning group of boarders. We have never seen Arnold so happy, Wide smiles and dancing on the spot at the sight of his parents back home. I must admit, I really did hold my breath for a second there!
Seeing Miles and Stella home and comforting Arnold is something I never thought I would see. And here it was. It was the sweetest conclusion and satisfying conclusion to the longest story. I would love to see them spend time together, but it’s the worst day of school. Repeating from one of the first scenes of the movie, we see Arnold and Gerald meeting Helga and Phoebe on the corner. But THIS time, things are a little different. There’s no classic bumping into one another. Gerald and Phoebe lead the way hand and hand leaving Arnold and Helga wondering if they should follow suite. While Arnold does attempt this making Helga (and all of us watching) swoon. Helga still ups her defenses and grabs her hand back. I can understand why people would questions her actions here, but I’m kind of happy they left that part of Helga in. This is still her character and she is not going to change overnight. She still keeps her guard up and she has a lot to learn in accepting Arnold’s effect in public. Still, the fact that she smiles as she walks off is a huge development. And don’t worry folks, Arnold isn’t put off by her…he runs after her with that same flirtatious smiley face.
A nice final touch is Arnold’s parents missing him and offering to walk him to school. That final look from Arnold as he enters his school with all his friends and Mr. Simmons declaring he still has a job after the jungle ordeal…that look in his eyes, looking back at his parents looking for him, waiting for him. And that smile knowing that they are never going to leave him again. THAT my friends is how you end a movie.
Conclusion
Nothing is perfect, but the Jungle Movie sure offers some closure. Every time I watch this film, I notice something new. The amount of detail in the background is admirable. They are like paintings. The texture, the colour, the ambience of them is just beautiful. The background animation of characters is incredibly detailed. Instead of just having a still image, I constantly found background characters to be animated and reacting, especially Helga.
The music in this film was gripping, and well suited for the story. A mixture of classic Hey Arnold style Jazz and hip-hop. South American Latin, full orchestral pieces. The emotion was most certainly intensified with the music backing. Hats off to Jim Lang. In cartoon revivals, one thing that is difficult to recreate are those voices. I can honestly say the returning cast and new cast did an absolute fantastic task of both recreating and advancing the characters. It was like watching an old and new show at the same time.
Overall, The Jungle Movie was everything an old school fan like myself could have hoped for. I am not only incredibly satisfied with what we have been given but, I am also thrilled for those who worked on this project for so many years. The creator, Craig Bartlett and his team and the fans who campaigned to make this happen. It’s a fine example of determination, love and appreciation for one another, which isn’t expressed much in today’s world. I am so happy with The Jungle Movie, and I finally have my closure from this epic story.
I can bet, if my Nan were still around today, she would be the one asking me all the questions. And, while I type up my final words, I feel a small part her sitting with me for the first time in many years.
#hey arnold#hey arnold tjm#hey arnold the jungle movie#hey arnold season 6#arnold shortman#helga pataki#nickelodeon#craig bartlett#the jungle movie
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This is super long so I’m adding a read more thing like Natasha did
Anyways I was tagged by @geek-from-nowhere (thanks!)
Before I go into the questions, I will tag @braeden-g33 @annedrayem @olivertrees @wastherenothingbut @youre-a-dime and @quxnce No pressure if you’re not into it though.
last
1. drink? Earl Grey
2. phone call? A company I’m applying to work for
3. text message? One of my best friends
4. song you listened to? Africa by Toto (I have no shame)
5. time you cried? Yesterday when I watched a really touching movie
have you ever
6. dated someone twice? No
7. kissed someone and regretted it? No
8. been cheated on? No
9. lost someone special? Yeah
10. gotten drunk and thrown up? Nah
favorite colors:
11. Grey
12. Purple
13. Blue
in the last year have you
14. made new friends? Yeah actually
15. fallen out of love? No but I should have
16. laughed until you cried? Yup
17. found out someone was talking about you? Yes
18. met someone who changed you? Definitely
19. found out who your friends are? Yes
20. kissed someone on your facebook list? Lol no
general:
21. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life? All of them except maybe like ten
22. do you have any pets? Not personally but my family does
23. do you want to change your name? I used to
24. what did you do for your last birthday? Nothing, it was great
25. what time did you wake up? Just before 10 am
26. what were you doing at midnight last night? Checking Tumblr while watching YouTube videos. (this was Natasha’s answer and honestly I did the same so...)
27. name something you can’t wait for? Working on Threepenny opera later this year
28. when was the last time you saw your mom? A couple of hours ago
29. what are you listening to right now? Africa by Toto stop judging me
30. have you ever talked to a person named tom? Lol that’s my dad’s name
31. something that is getting on your nerves? Not having money
32. most visited website? Probably tumblr
33. hair color? Dark brown
34. long or short hair? Short
35. do you have a crush on someone? Yeah
36. what do you like about yourself? I like curiosity and dedication to see things through. I work hard to achieve my dreams.
37. piercings? None
38. bloodtype? Lol does anyone actually know this?
39. nickname? I don’t really have one
40. relationship status? Single
41. zodiac? Gemini
42. pronouns? He/him
43. favorite tv show? Right now I’m watching a lot of Community
44. tattoos? None
45. right or left handed? Right
46. surgery? I’ve never had one
47. sport? Whom?
48. vacation? I want to go back to Germany and I’d kill to go to Paris. Or going back home to NYC would be great
49. pair of trainers? Converse
more general
50. eating: Pizza
51. drinking: water
52. i’m about to: post this super long thing
53. waiting for: Getting rich, I’m looking forward to that
54. want to do: Probably write
55. get married? I’d like to
56. career? Actor and writer
which is better
57. hugs or kisses? Hugs
58. lips or eyes? Eyes
59. shorter or taller? No preference
60. older or younger? not too much in either direction
61. nice arms or nice stomach? the latter i guess
62. hook up or relationship? Relationship
63. troublemaker or hesitant? Hesitant
have you ever
64. kissed a stranger? No
65. drank hard liquor? Bourbon is my go to, scotch is gross
66. lost glasses/contacts? I don’t have them
67. turned someone down? Yes
68. had sex on the first date? No
69. broken someones heart? Yeah...
70. had your heart broken? Yeah..........
71. been arrested? No
72. cried when someone died? Yes
73. fallen for a friend? Who hasn’t?
do you believe in
74. yourself? Yeah, for the most part
75. miracles? Yes
76. love at first sight? Not per say
77. santa? No
78. kiss on the first date? It really depends on how well the first date goes
79. angels? Yes
other
80. current best friend’s name: I don’t really have one
81: eye color: brown
82: favorite movie: 2005 Pride and Prejudice
#Thanks again Natasha#this is really long so I really don't blame anyone who doesn't want to do it#especially since I know some people don't like reblog bait or chain stuff like this
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Would you buy a vinyl recording of 20 minutes of silence?
March Mindfulness is our new series that examines the explosive growth in mindfulness and meditation technology — culminating in Mashable's groundbreaking competitive meditation bracket contest. Because March shouldn't be all madness.
The sound of silence hasn't been this popular since Simon and Garfunkel.
A Kickstarter campaign for a double-sided vinyl record containing 20 minutes of silence is the latest crowd-funding project that's making noise. Eric Antonow and his 15-year-old son, Ben, decided the world could use some quiet.
And Kickstarter supporters agree. The duo has raised roughly $4,300 — seven times more than their $600 goal to produce the record. Their Kickstarter ends Wednesday.
It all started when Antonow and his son were sifting through records at a store and came across "The Art of Meditation," a relic from the 1970s, complete with groovy artwork. Upon listening, though, Antonow found that more than the cover art was outdated — the meditation itself was just a "directive voice" telling him where to place his thoughts. For him, though, the point of meditation was to let his thoughts go wherever they pleased.
Antonow, who lives in Palo Alto, started meditating after seeing a video on YouTube late one night in 2016. It was a clip of Jerry Seinfeld talking about how meditating allowed him to better manage his life and well-being. Antonow resonated with Seinfeld's words, googled meditation classes, and learned how to meditate.
He's meditated every day since. He even started a Facebook page called Pub Med on which he posts videos of himself meditating publicly in order to shake off misconceptions that might cling to the age-old practice. The first time he broadcast himself meditating on Facebook Live, he did so at 6 a.m. one morning and a few hundred people watched. He figured out that he could slowly normalize the act of meditation by livestreaming it.
Antonow is not the only one navigating the glassy waters of the new digital zen frontier. The bridge between technology and meditation has been closing within the past couple years. A flurry of apps have also popped up to help users get their calm on via smartphone.
Now, Antonow is experimenting with different tools to help people meditate. The vinyl, he says, is just one of several he's been working on.
"Note: This does not require a record player to be fully enjoyed. Technically, it doesn’t even require this record."
Image: eric antonow
Though the idea was just a humorous "what if" between him and his son, it (very) quickly materialized into reality. Antonow says they had the idea on a Sunday in January and took action the next day. Making the recording of pure silence took less than half an hour. "I opened up Garage Band, and I dragged the levels down to zero, and I hit record. And I recorded 20 minutes." Antonow named it "Side A," copied it, and renamed the second one "Side B." And that was that.
Antonow predicts that there are two different audiences for the vinyl. He notes that on one hand, there are people who are genuinely interested in finding ways to better their meditation practices. "Then there’s another group of people that’ll be like: 'This is fucking funny.'"
SEE ALSO: Instagram's 'Hashtag Mindfulness' boom: The good, the bad, and the ugly
While he's serious about the benefits of having tangible silence, he's aware of the humor attached to his product. "I wanted to make sure both camps were represented."
Still, Antonow is excited about the possibilities for contemplation offered by the spinning quiet. "This is a mirror, and when you show up and you look in the mirror this time it’s gonna be different than the last time."
One of the best parts about doing the project for Antonow was working with his son, who found the humor in a silent record. It was also a good chance for a father-son teaching moment.
“Many things you want to make are make-able,” he says, matter of factly. And with the advent of crowd-funding on such accessible platforms, he's right. “This idea showed up in January, and we’ll have records in people’s hands by April.”
The record is only available in the U.S. right now, but Antonow says there's interest worldwide judging by the messages he's gotten on Kickstarter from Russia, Germany, Hong Kong, Thailand, and the UK. He chalks the interest up to a genuine curiosity around something fresh and strange.
The recent boom in meditation and self-help apps like Headspace and Calm have certainly opened up a mainstream discussion about mindfulness. "I think they’re great entry points into a practice,” Antonow says.
He doesn't find it odd that we've figured out a way to include technology in a practice that inherently rejects it. He notes, however, that we "don't really know" what it could all lead to, since we're living in it right now.
“I suspect most people over time will go explore meditation in much more offline ways than just listening to a recording or an app.”
For now, 20 minutes of silence sounds like a good place to start.
WATCH: Apple teams up with Aetna on new health reward app
#_category:yct:001000002#_lmsid:a0Vd000000DTrEpEAL#_uuid:8a0632ab-16fe-35ba-8711-3d6a01d42492#_author:Harry Hill#_revsp:news.mashable
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A Far Away Infinity
I actually am posting this when I said I was going to! A miracle. And another million thank yous for all the love for this story! It makes me write faster ;) Enjoy and let me know what you think! Also look who got fancy with a picture.
Part 1
Part 2 // Sometimes You Have to Grin and Bare it //
“So, how’s Frank?” Jamie asked, kicking a random stone off to the side and into the grass.
The park they were walking through was busy with kids out of school running around and playing in the hills. The clouds had lifted and the lake they were walking around glistened under the attention.
They had spent the last few hours catching up about everything. How Jamie’s family was. How Jenny was handling three children, how Ian helped run the estate now with Jamie’s father getting older. How much he missed them.
She missed Lallybroch. So much time was spent there on holiday with Jamie during college. She grew very close with his sister Jenny. She often thought of visiting, it was only a few hours away, but the thought of seeing Jamie’s father stopped her. She could still feel his words long after they had been spoken five years ago.
They spoke at length about everything and nothing, but carefully avoided sore subjects, like significant others, until now.
She shrugged and stuffed her hands in her jacket. Frank was not Jamie’s favorite topic of conversation, so she didn’t mention him much.
“Good, busy, I mean. He’s in London a lot for research on another paper. I’m thinking about moving there. He wants me to.”
He paused for a second and glanced at her from the side of his eye before continuing.
“Oh,” he said casually, kicking another stone. The mask was back and she had no idea what that meant. His voice was flat and had no inflection. Must he always be so mysterious?
“You think it isn’t a good idea?”
“I think ye should do what makes you happy,” he looked to the children skipping in front of them intently. The boy looked like he must have looked as a child. Bushy, red curls with tiny freckles scattered across his face.
Would London make her happy? She was from there and did miss it a great deal since she moved for university when she was 19. But now the highlands and Scottish people were ingrained into her as much as England. Maybe more. England had molded her, but Scotland had defined her.
Instead of pushing the topic, she nudged his shoulder. “A bunch of us are getting together for dinner tonight. You need to come.”
“Who?” He put a hand lightly on her back and lead her to a nearby bench.
“A few of my work friends, Joe and Mary. And of course, Rupert, Angus and Geillis.”
“Joe?” He asked, eyebrows raised in delight. She had told him many stories of Joe’s actions in the operating rooms while talking on the phone.
“The infamous joe. I can’t wait for you to meet him,” she laughed, picturing the two together, both men she loved but in such different ways.
“And how’s…what’s her name, Gena? The blonde?”
She usually tried to block out any time he mentioned a girlfriend because of the irrational jealousy it caused in her, but morbid curiosity made her ask. And the fact that there was a lapse in Facebook pictures of them at the beach in California, which always made Claire a little ill to see.
“Geneva and that’s done,” he spoke shortly. Not a great end to a relationship it sounded like.
“Really? Why?”
“Just didn’t work out,” he shook his head and scrolled through his phone, uninterested.
“Ok…” she mumbled, tapping her fingers on the bench, squinting to watch an older couple feed ducks on the edge of the lake.
The vibration of her pager ended the tense silence a few minutes later. Groaning, she pulled it out and laid her head on the back of the bench.
“It’s the hospital,” she grumbled. “I’ve got to go.”
“Thought it was your day off,” he commented, standing and groaning as he stretched and offered her a hand, helping her up.
“No rest for interns, I’m afraid,” she hesitated before requesting a ride off her app. “So, you’re coming tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he leaned down and hugged her, squeezing hard, making her laugh. She kissed his ear, delighting in his shiver.
“Tonight.”
After a long few hours of being stuck in an operating room, she was ready for the night. A night to reminisce, to remember. As she walked from the car, she wondered if Jamie would remember their night together. It had been on her mind so much since she had seen him. But if she was being honest, it had been on her mind for five long years. They had never spoken of it in five years. She desperately wanted to, but didn’t know why. Perhaps, she wanted to relive it in someway. Relive the passion she had felt and had never felt again.
Butterflies scattered in her stomach when she saw Jamie as she came into view of their little party gathered outside the restaurant. He was wearing a black leather jacket. The same jacket that he wore the night that they had spent together so long ago. It fit him as well as it did then. Maybe better now as his muscles were more toned from all his gym time than they were back then.
In that moment, she knew he would age like a fine wine, always getting better with every year. The image of him standing by the bar wearing it had her drunk on memories. A small part of her wondered if he had worn in on purpose, but she didn’t really think guys remembered stuff like that.
“You’ve had that jacket a long while,” she remarked while coming to stand next to him, hoping to god that she wasn’t blushing.
“Aye, its served me well in the past,” he said casually, leaning down to kiss her cheek in greeting. His scruff rubbed against her cheek, the sensation going straight to her lower stomach. She closed her eyes as he lingered for a moment too long, smelling the sweet, cinnamon scent of him.
“Jamie!”
Rupert’s voice could have been heard across Glasgow with its loudness. He ran up and grabbed Jamie in a bear hug, both sporting ridiculous grins on their faces.
“Rupert, man! How are ye?”
Rupert stepped back and grabbed Jamie’s shoulders to look at him. “A trifle worse than ye, man. California has done ye well.”
Jamie smiled back at him as Angus snapped a selfie of all the boys reunited.
She and Geillis walked past them and turned the corner to the restaurant. “You boys can catch up inside. I’m starving.”
She turned the corner with Jamie on her heels and stopped abruptly when she saw a familiar face in front of the door.
“Frank?” Her voice was filled with shock as she spotted his familiar face with his usual sport coat and glasses, leaning casually on a pillar outside the front door of the restaurant.
He looked up from his phone at her voice and smiled, but the smile quickly disappeared as he spotted Jamie’s tall figure next to her.
“But I thought you were in London?” She asked as he walked up to her, nodding to the group behind her. They had all met him multiple times before, but whether they were fond of him was a different story.
“Well, I wanted to surprise you. Mary told me that you all would be here tonight,” he said as he grabbed her hand in greeting.
She glanced back at Mary in Rupert’s arms. Mary smiled at her, waving enthusiastically and giggling to Sarah, another intern Claire worked with. Odd.
Frank suddenly pulled her to him and kissed her hard. She made a noise of surprise and pushed him away slightly, embarrassed. Frank hated PDA and almost never kissed her in public. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. The energy was almost electric, as if someone stepped an inch off course, there would be a fire.
Wiping her lips discreetly, she turned to Jamie next to her.
“Jamie, this is frank. Frank, this is Jamie, my old friend from college,” she stated as causally as she could. Frank knew a little about their history, but not exactly the whole story.
“She speaks fondly of you,” Frank said while reaching out to shake his hand. Jamie reached out and took his hand firmly. She thought she heard Frank wince a little.
“Nice to meet ye,” Jamie said, staring him down with an odd twinkle in his eye.
“Shall we go in?” She said loudly, wanting to be anywhere but where she was.
“After you,” Jamie motioned to Frank. Frank huffed and grabbed her around the waist while tugging her inside.
It would be an interesting night.
“Claire tells me you’re really dedicated to the gym,” Frank said while sipping his red wine. “Not something I find incredibly interesting to be honest. I’d rather be in a museum myself,” Frank turned towards her and winked. “Right, sweetheart?”
Instead of answering his question, she deflected. “Jamie’s in publishing. An editor. The youngest ever in the company. He’s also a published author,” she said proudly, watching Jamie turn red from the praise.
He smiled tightly and nodded a little, taking a large drink of his whiskey.
“Ah, then we might have one thing in common after all,” Frank smirked, snagging a piece of bread in front of him while Jamie glared.
“California’s been good to him,” she smiled at Jamie to calm him. “He got an opportunity of a lifetime and hasn’t made a wrong move yet.”
Jamie looked at her then, a look she didn’t understand. Or maybe she did. His eyes were sad and he shook his head at her, twisting his hands together and finishing off the last of his drink, motioning for the waiter to bring him another.
Frank cleared his throat and began to talk to Mary, wanting to get away from the awkward pause. But she had no mind for that, all she did was try and understand a man that had everything but still wasn’t happy. Did he regret choosing to move? Did he want to come back?
Her mind raced with endless questions the rest of the dinner while Jamie continued to act.
After desert was served and everyone was pleasantly warm from their drinks, Frank stood up and tapped his wine glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Claire,” he grabbed her hand in both of his, holding them together. Her heart pounded and she felt slightly sick. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long while and I couldn’t think of a better place than with all your friends gathered around us.”
Blinking hard at him in disbelief, she slowly put down her glass. He couldn’t be...could he?
Frank smiled at her and reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet black box.
“I love you and I want to build a life with you. These last three years have made me so happy. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Shock paralyzed everything but her eyes. Breathing hard and sweating, she looked from Frank to around the table. Mary seemed to have known this was coming, Joe looked suddenly very interested in his napkin. Rupert – always lighthearted – had his brows drawn together in thought as he glanced at Jamie, which drew her eyes to his face.
His mask was there, but was faltering greatly and it broke her. His mouth tried to smile for her, but his eyes couldn’t, they burned into hers like fire, retracing his hold on her. Blue depths begged her to say no as they glistened in fear that she would accept this new life, but what say should he have? He lived an ocean away.
The feel of Frank holding a ring to her finger, ready and poised for an acceptance, startled her back to reality. A reality where Jamie wasn’t hers and never would be.
“I,” She stuttered, looking down at the ring, sparking brightly in the dim light. “Frank, –
~Five Years Earlier~
The cab ride to Jaime’s apartment was a blur of feeling. She spent half of the twenty-minute ride in Jamie’s lap with her tongue in his mouth and his hands on her ass until the driver shouted at them that no sex was allowed in his cab.
Pulling apart, they both looked at each other, faces only a half an inch away. Lips swollen and breath ragged. Jamie smiled and bumped her nose with his, kissing her right behind the ear, which made her shiver in delight and made him moan as she wiggled.
“No sex in my cab!”
She shuffled off his lap and into the seat next to him, much to the cabbie’s delight. Maybe no sex in the cab, but…
Her fingers tingled with possibility as Jamie brushed his pinky along her thigh in hypnotic motions. Feather light on her knee and then teasingly to her inner thigh, then to her hip in a repeated motion that made her feel slightly crazy.
“If you get us there in five minutes, you’ll get a tip!” Jamie yelled and then both of them jerked back as the car sped forward.
“So, eager, Mr. Fraser,” she whispered into his ear, playing a teasing game of her own against his thigh.
“You have no idea,” he mumbled against her forehead.
The elevator button flashed and then went blank. Annoyed, Jamie pressed it again with feeling to have it flash and then go blank.
“God, fuc–
He slammed his hand on the wall and rubbed his chin in thought. As frustrated as she was, the expression on his face was quite hilarious.
“Come on,” he grabbed her hands and tugged her towards the end of the hallway where the stairs were.
“Jamie, it’s 10 floors!”
Never pausing, he opened the door, scooped her up and was already on floor three before she could even take three breaths.
He panted and sweat began to form at his temples. She had the odd urge to kiss it off of him. Sparing him the exertion of the last five floors, she swiveled and wrapped her legs around his hips and slowly slid down.
His eyes were hungry for her and they sprinted up to his floor. All the while laughing at the absurdity of their actions.
They panted from passion and the stairs, twisting their way to his bedroom. Eager for what was to come, but tentative as if each step was a new challenge. Could they do this? How long will it last?
The questions formed and bubbled over in her head, but as he tugged off his leather jacket and pulled her to straddle him on the edge of the bed, she decided to let go and feel.
He pulled the shirt off her slowly, taking in every inch of skin that came into view. Each piece of clothing was like unlocking a treasure chest, all the exploring had led up to the final moment of reveal. She had seen him shirtless before, but never in his bed. Never with his mouth sliding down her bare stomach.
Slowly, he pulled down her jeans zipper with his teeth and popped the button with his hands, smoothing them down her hips and tugging hard until they fell to her ankles. He inhaled deeply as he looked at her, taking in her almost bare form.
He took off his own jeans and god! He’s not the first guy that she’s seen like this. Over her, eager, naked.
But in that moment, he was all she ever wanted to see again.
Continued here
#outlander fanfic#a far away infinity#outlander#modern jamie and claire#jamie and claire#fanfic#my fanfic#outlander fan fiction
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I saw Doctor Who!
Some impressions below the cut.
- Within the first 5 minutes, Moffat has Bill insult fat people and complain about brainless models. Classy.
- Bill is super gay. As gay as can be without ever actually using words like ‘gay’ or ‘lesbian’ or in any way explicitly acknowledging it :P
- I initially had ‘lesbianism as a lure’ down, because it seemed as though the alien mimic was pretending to be a fellow lesbian (Heather) to capture Bill. Which is obviously kind of iffy. But then it turned out that what’s actually happening is that Heather, while possessed (?) by an alien spaceship, is using the alien technology to find Bill because she likes her! Which is nice. I wonder if things seeming malicious but actually either being friendly or just acting according to their nature (’it’s not evil just hungry’) is going to be a theme this series. So far it seems more likely to be the opposite, with apparently friendly things (Emojibots, the consent pyramid) being dangerous (then agian, the Emojibots ARE just acting according to programming...), but we’ll see.
- Bill, like Clara and Amy etc., seems like another companion who is A Mystery (tm) - she’s adopted, and appears to be her own mother. Who are her parents?? Where did she come from? Is she The Master??? The Doctor says the TARDIS and his memories of River and Susan compelled him to come back for her, so does that mean they’re related??? Is she Susan’s granddaughter???? Or daughter, if we’re contridicting Big Finish canon????? Yeah obviously not but the question of her parentage remains. I was concerned the Vault was going to be a red herring and the real reason the Doctor took his lecturing post was so he could monitor Bill, but if he’s been there 50 years that wouldn’t make sense unless there’s Weird Plot Shit going on. Actually, what’s the bet that the photo, the Doctor, and Bill are part of a stable time loop - the future Doctor will take the picture in the 90s and contact his earlier self to tell him to come to Bristol and wait for her? Maybe Bill got lost in the past at the same time the Vault appeared.
...you know what, I’m definitely overthinking this, and what actually happened was that he was imagining River and Susan chiding him to be nicer (which seems odd for River, for whom compassion is not a defining character trait, but who cares a lot about a select few friends and her family...NO, stop thinking that, not everyone has to be related), and the TARDIS took a liking to Bill, which clinched it. It is odd that she hasn’t confronted him about the photo yet, though. Clearly they’re setting up another episode down the line.
- I like the Vault thing, but it’s a bit close to the Cabinet of Souls from Class. It’s also another of Moffat’s arbitrarily long time skips. Not there’s anything inherently wrong with that, but he does seem fond of them.
- Speaking of recycled plot devices, it’s another alien spaceship that wants a pilot (or is it a passenger? The episode seems confused).
- Wait, if Heather wasn’t possessed until just before she started turning into water/oil and stalking Bill, why was she acting so obviously suspiciously before? That didn’t look like acting awkwardly because of a crush; all the signs indicated she was already alienificationified. This episode covers...what, a term and a half? Did Bill and Heather develop their relationship at all off-screen? We only see them exchange about 100 words. I appreciate that Heather can’t be too relatable if Moffat is going to use the twist that she’s not evil, but the result is that the revelation she has a crush on Bill seems completely random. Would it have killed him to have her be just a bit more emotional? Or show her going through Bill’s Facebook pictures or something?
- What species exactly uses time-travelling sentient oil in their spaceships?? Ships that are accurate enough to detect anyone anywhere in all of time and track them literally anywhere within seconds? And the Doctor isn’t interested in finding out who they are and what they’re doing? That seems like a writing cop-out.
- Lots of Rose parallels here (chips, every day the same, single mother, Doctor-has-been-alone-for-a-while-and-here’s-a-new-special-person thing, etc.). Which makes sense; after last series, which had possibly the most continuity-heavy opening episode ever, this one has been marketed as a new beginning and an ideal first episode for new viewers. All this stuff worked in 2006, so it’s worth a go in 2017. Bill‘s mother doesn’t compare to Jackie, though.
- The alien spaceship is a pond! Oh, how clever you are, Mr. Steven :P
- The spaceship/Doctor and Heather/Bill parallels are pushed too, but that’s such a common episode concept I’m not going to complain about it.
- Why does the Doctor care about intelligence and stuff now? That's a bit mean. I like that he invited Bill in because of her curiosity, but his insistence that she attend every day at 6pm no matter what and warning that he’d dismiss her if she ever got lower than a First seem a tad demanding. One of the classic appeals of Doctor Who is that a companion could be anyone, even YOU, and adding an academic requirement spoils that fantasy. For that reason, I’m going to say Rose (the episode) is a more successful starting episode, simply because although both characters are relatable (both have dead-end jobs, both want more than their provincial lives, both meet the Doctor due to incidental run-ins with aliens and become his friends because they have some character trait he’s impressed with), I find it easier to imagine that I could survive an Auton invasion than that I could get a First on every essay for like 9 months.
- The Doctor 'educating' a black woman has potentially unfortunate implications. In context it seems basically fine - she wants to study at the university, he’s a lecturer; it makes sense - but I hope the teacher/student thing doesn’t become a running theme. It’s uncomfortably reminiscent of the Four/Leela ‘I will educate you out of your savagery, bemoaning your martial skills and ruthlessness even while I rely on them for my own benefit’ situation. ofc with Leela the ‘savage’ thing did become a term of endearment and source of banter between friends pretty quickly, but I’d rather they avoided the Pygmalion idea altogether tbh.
- These Daleks are completely incompetent. Not that that’s new, but 4 shots at Nardole, all of which miss?
- Why are they new series Daleks if this is the Movellan war?
- Ah, so the Movellans are only here as window dressing. That’s a disappointment. It’s like the classic Daleks in Asylum, the Cybermen in series 8 and Gallifrey in series 9; Moffat loves sort of bringing things back, but not actually using them at all in any meaningful way. I hope the Tenth Planet Cybermen (I hesitate to call them ‘Mondasian’, since ALL classic Cybermen are Mondasian in origin) are the focus of their episode rather than being similarly discarded.
- How many other contemporary Doctor Who stories have been set in Bristol? I believe this is the first at Bristol University, but if he’s been there the last 50 years he’s had to be very careful not to cross himself on any other visits. This also raises the question of how if he’s been there since the 60s and lecturing as the Doctor people like Rose, UNIT, the Master, LINDA etc. haven’t found him before. Isn’t Time Lord telepathy meant to be pretty good at that kind of thing? Like Clara being at Coal Hill School, it’s a one-off continuity gag that serves no real purposes and invites a lot of unfortunate questions.
- Bill and Nardole are fun. I liked the cinematography. The Vault is a neat series arc setup. All in all, I’m cautiously optimistic.
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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Sixty: Later in the Year ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]
Though Hinata would probably call Spring or Summer her favorite season - given the pleasant weather and the bountiful flowers she loves so much - she will admit that Autumn has a certain kind of...charm to it. The slow descent in temperatures from the scorch of Summer is refreshing in its own way. Of course, it also means kids returning to school, so not everyone is happy about the arrival of Fall. But overall...she finds plenty to like about it.
The shifting colors of the foliage are always beautiful. Though Hinata might prefer cooler colors when it comes to things like her wardrobe, or her workspace, there’s something so...cozy about the palette later in the year. It’s a sign the months are dipping back toward the sleep of Winter: harvest is over, the reaped rewards of a long Summer of work gathered up and stored away for the snowy months. It’s a time to celebrate a successful waxing of the seasons to their peak, and to prepare for the waning back into the cold.
Even the air seems to carry a certain...tinge to it. The smell of damp, fallen leaves...the plethora of baked goods and their spices as people look for warmer treats to ward away the chill. The breeze might have a slight nip to it, but that just means shifting to the thicker parts of her closet. Sweaters (and sweater dresses), leggings, boots, hats, scarves...all sorts of cute things to wear!
Yes, Autumn has its charm. Which is why - as Hinata lurks in her favorite haunt, a little coffee shop and bakery hybrid - she holds her cup of coffee in hands grateful for the heat, watching the season sweep through her little city with a soft smile. She’s spent the entire day up until this little break taking photographs of the shifting atmosphere. While she has a day job at a craft store chain, her real passion is photography...which she indulges in on her blog. She always sees a swell of traffic this time of year as others enjoy the season.
One would think her easily tired of it, given that her place of employment has been swamped with Fall decorations and themed wares for weeks before Summer was anywhere close to over. In fact, Autumn has scarcely begun, and she’s already seeing their Winter wares being put up on display. It’s a little disappointing how...overlooked it is between the hype that is Summer, and the end of the year. Beyond pumpkin spiced...everything, there isn’t much regard given to the season before it slips into Winter.
But, now is hardly the time to mull that over. She’s going to warm up, and then make the trek back to her apartment to get started on this week’s blog post. Already her mind slips into a daydream-like state, picturing the layout and how best to arrange her favorite shots.
Her thoughts are interrupted, however, as the door chimes nearby, her seat only a few feet from it along the large window that overlooks the sidewalk. Blinking, she turns to give the newcomer a glance, shy but curious.
She has to do a double take.
Is...is that…?
Her staring thankfully goes unnoticed, the figure too focused on reaching the counter and perusing the menu. Pale eyes try to see his face from this angle, not quite sure he is who she thinks he is. The woman behind the register greets him pleasantly, putting together his order with a hint of smalltalk she can’t hear from this distance. His body language is rather lax, a hip cocked with hands in his jacket pockets. Dark hair brushes the tops of his shoulders, the top half drawn up in a tail behind his head.
Once he gets his drink and snack, he turns to look for a place to sit, and she all but confirms it. That’s Sasuke! Sasuke Uchiha! She hasn’t seen him in...gosh, years. They went to school together nearly all twelve years, except for a stint while he moved away. But he’d returned before graduation, and then just...disappeared. No one had really heard from him after that, not even Naruto. He fell off the map, moved out of the city, and ghosted everyone.
What is he doing here?
Averting her gaze just enough to be subtle, Hinata watches him out of the corner of her eyes. It’s so...strange. He looks quite a bit different. He’d always been a rather lean, almost skinny kid in school, but...he’s bulked up ever so slightly. Still far from someone like Naruto’s build, but no longer a beanpole, either. His hair was never that long in school, always shorter in the back and untamed. His style had been rather...alternative back then, but now he’s just dressed in dark-wash jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket. Seems he’s mellowed out quite a bit.
Curiosity is eating at her. She wants to know where he’s been, and why! But perhaps more importantly, the reason behind his return. No one’s said anything about hearing from him or seeing him, so...clearly he hasn’t contacted anyone. At least not according to anything she’s seen on Facebook. Surely by now, Naruto would have thrown a huge fit all over the site if he knew.
But...she very rarely spoke to Sasuke back then. He’d been so...withdrawn. And while he appears far more laid back now, she’s not sure it would be wise to just...go say hello. He might not want to be seen. But...well...he is in a public place.
...maybe she can get a photo of him.
Digging out her camera, she makes a show of perusing through her memory card, turning to sit sideways in her chair. He’s technically facing the same direction as her table, further back from the window, eyes glued to a phone he scrolls through while sipping his drink. Then carefully, ever so carefully, she starts angling her lens, trying to find him through the screen view. Almost...there…
Like magnets, his dark eyes whip to her lens, startling her so badly as he stares right at her that she jumps. Fumbling not to drop her (rather expensive) hobby device, she feels heat bloom quickly through her face.
He perks a brow at her, stopped mid-chew through a bite of his snack. But after a moment to consider her, recognition bleeds through his confusion.
“...Hinata?”
“I, uh...y-yes?” Caught red-handed and not having the gall to try to fib, she shrinks in her chair, clinging to her camera. “Er...Sasuke, right?”
“Yeah.”
Well, she’s already embarrassed herself this much...might as well go all-out. “What - w-what are you...doing here?”
“Getting some coffee. Same as you, looks like.”
“I - no, I mean...here. In town. No one has seen you in...in ages! You just sort of...disappeared.”
Clearing his teeth behind his lips, Sasuke adjusts his posture a bit. “Took some time to travel. Wanted to get away from it all for a while. Hopped around a few cities, took odd jobs...but thought I’d come back now that it all sort of lost its spark. Didn’t think I’d run into someone I knew so quickly, though.”
Someone he...knew? But...they hadn’t exactly been friends… “I see! Well, it - it’s nice to see you. So...you’re here to...stay?”
“I think so. Still planning things out. Been mostly winging it for the past few years, so...I have to get used to it again. Working on finding a place and a job. Thought I’d lie low and get that figured out before letting anyone know I was back…”
“Oh, I-I won’t tell anyone!”
“Thanks. But...weren’t you trying to take my picture?”
Jolting, her blush returns full force. “I was just, um...I-I wasn’t sure if it was really...you! You look...different.”
“Yeah? You too. No more baggy clothes and curtain hair, huh?”
Hinata blinks. He...remembers that? “N...no. Not so much, at least. I...well, I guess change is h-hard to avoid. Even if you don’t notice it over time. Must be, um...easier for you to notice, since...since you’ve been gone.” Clearly still nervous, she smiles sheepishly, gesturing to the window. “You...you picked a great time to come back! The weather’s been very...very nice. And the Autumn colors are at their peak. That’s what I have the c-camera for. Was out...taking pictures.” And not just looking like a creep sneaking photos of people… she thinks to herself, wilting.
“Photography, huh? Neat hobby. Get any good shots?”
This seems so...strange. To just be...talking to him. They’d been in completely different circles in high school. Now that sort of cliquey nonsense seems so...childish. But still...they’re practically strangers beyond a few overlapping acquaintances. “I...I think so. I need to go...through them. And get them posted. I...I run a little blog, it - it’s nothing fancy. Just...well, just a hobby.”
Sasuke nods. “Hobbies are good. Keep you sane through the other life crap you gotta put up with. I’d like to see it.”
“You -? It...it’s not that -”
“You were always one of those quiet ones in school. That means you know how to observe. Bet you take great photos.”
The compliment catches her off-guard. “...I…? Well, I...I try.”
“What’s the site?”
Pink in embarrassment, Hinata just...writes it on a napkin, handing it over. “Don’t, um...don’t have too high of expectations. I’m still...I’m still learning. A-about a lot of how it all, um...works.”
He waves a hand. “Maybe I oughta make one. Took a lot of photos while I traveled.”
Hinata can’t help a small perk. “Oh, you...you should! I’d love to see them!”
“...I’ll look into it. Maybe yours’ll give me some inspiration.”
She blinks, still rosy.
“Well...I gotta get going. Lot to do tomorrow,” he then announces, rising from his seat. “Nice seeing you, Hinata. Maybe I’ll bump into you again.”
“I-I bet you will. I’m here a lot, so…” She trails off, unsure what else to say. As he offers a farewell, she waves, still not quite...grasping their entire exchange. It felt so alien. Now that he’s gone, she’s not even sure it really happened.
But, either way, she remains true to her word, deciding not to mention the sighting to anyone. Sounds like he’ll be busy enough as it is without anyone pestering him. Looking into her empty coffee cup, Hinata thinks for a moment longer before packing up her things.
...she’s got a blog post to work on.
.oOo.
Tired @~@ But I like this one pretty well. I'm a HUGE fan of Autumn myself, so getting to add it to the background of a drabble is nice~ Otherwise...not too much to say about this one. Just a chance encounter between two prior acquaintances. Might continue it at some point. Honestly there's so many of these that could use part twos or full fics...I can't keep track anymore xD But we'll see~ Anywho, I need to get some sleep - I'm still a day behind here, and tomorrow's gonna be another very busy day. The next two weeks or so (at least) are still gonna be very...eventful, so I can't make any promises about catching up. But I'll try, at least, not to fall any further behind lol - anyway, thanks for reading!
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Stories & important info on POS System Equipment and Point of Sale.
Editor’s note: This story was originally published in the Texas Observer’s May/June 2021 print edition. Since its publication, prosecutor Ralph Petty has surrendered his license to practice law. A district court judge in Midland has also recommended a new trial for Clinton Young.
From the May/June 2021 issue
It’s 2016, and I’m driving north on U.S. 59, a four-lane stretch of blacktop in Deep East Texas bordered by towering pines. This morning, I’d set out from New Orleans, where I intern at a public defender’s office, to make the five-hour trek to rural Polk County, northeast of Houston. I see my turnoff up ahead: the country road leading to the Allan B. Polunsky Unit, a maximum-security prison comprising a collection of drab concrete buildings hemmed in by barbed wire.
This is where a dear friend has been sentenced to die.
At the gate, the guards search the trunk of my car to make sure I’m not carrying any contraband. I park, go inside, and am escorted to the visitation area, a long, narrow room with rows of cubicles separated by a heavy sheet of plexiglass. The air is thick with conversations between incarcerated people and their visitors—doting wives who dream of the day they’re reunited with their husbands, crying babies that have never been held by their father or grandfather or uncle, fervently praying priests. I sit in a sticky chair in a cubicle that’s tinted yellow from the fluorescent lights overhead as I wait for my friend to arrive.
Eventually, a guard opens a door behind the glass and escorts Clinton into the cubicle opposite mine. He is tall, with pale blue eyes and a buzz cut. He’s in handcuffs. I consider Clinton a close friend after years of corresponding by letter, but I’ve never actually met him until today. And seeing him like this—handcuffed, locked behind a metal door—is disconcerting. Clinton Lee Young, standing in front of me at 32 years old, is treated as if he’s a killer.
I don’t think he killed anyone.
In 2000, a man named Doyle Douglas was killed in Longview as part of what police say was a drug deal and kidnapping gone wrong. Two days later, Samuel Petrey was killed in Midland. Police arrested Clinton, only 18 years old then, on suspicion of murder because he was present at both crime scenes. They also arrested two other people in connection to the deaths, who would later testify against Clinton. In 2003, he was convicted by a Midland County jury of capital murder, sentenced to death, and sent to the Polunsky Unit, the facility that houses all the men in Texas on death row. He’s been there ever since.
All of the men sentenced to death row in Texas are held at the Allan B. Polunsky Unit in Polk County. Texas Department of Criminal Justice/Wikimedia Commons
In January 2014, I saw a Dutch documentary about Clinton’s case that aired in the Netherlands, where I was born and grew up. By that time Clinton had been in solitary confinement on death row for 11 years. Meanwhile, I was finishing up law school in Rotterdam. I felt an inexplicable connection to Clinton, a feeling that was neither pity nor simple curiosity. I was immediately drawn to his story, and I didn’t want to just learn more about his case—I wanted to do more.
On the screen, I saw a young, healthy, and possibly innocent man explain his fate. It shocked me. In the Netherlands, not only has the death penalty been abolished for more than a millennium, but even a life sentence is rarely implemented. The justice system there focuses primarily on rehabilitation, which is why there is hesitancy to carry out an irreversible sentence. The death penalty’s only purpose is retaliation—a difficult concept for me to accept, both from a legal perspective and a humanitarian one. I wanted to help Clinton, so I started with the easiest thing I could do: I wrote him a letter. I told Clinton about my interest in the law, and he wrote back: “You know what your goals are. I think we will get along great.” He was right. Through our first few letters, we quickly developed a bond that later became a lifelong friendship.
I regularly visited Clinton the summer I worked in New Orleans. In fact, Clinton was a big part of the reason I applied for the internship to begin with. As our friendship grew, so did my interest in his legal case. I devoted hours every day to learning as much as I could about his conviction. The state’s case looked weak. There was no ballistic evidence, forensic evidence, fingerprints, or DNA to prove that Clinton was guilty of the killings, and the state was largely dependent on the testimony of his two co-defendants. (They received lenient sentences in return for their testimony against Clinton, which would later be deemed inconsistent and unreliable.) Later, in 2019, I would learn that Ralph Petty, the prosecutor in the case, had secretly worked for the judge as a paid law clerk. It was in this role that Petty drafted rulings in Clinton’s case, advised the judge on legal matters, and had access to confidential information that would otherwise not be accessible to a prosecutor. Petty’s relationship with the judge impacted dozens of other cases, robbing defendants of a fair trial.
Merel Pontier Photo by Louise Corazon
After completing my internship and returning to the Netherlands, I joined a nonprofit that had been created in Clinton’s name. Then the worst possible thing happened: The judge in Clinton’s case set an execution date for October 26, 2017. When his execution had not been stayed by October 18, I flew 13 hours from Amsterdam to Houston. While I was in the air, the court granted Clinton a stay of execution. Clinton’s legal relief came after new evidence emerged of possible false testimony by the state’s star witness, one of Clinton’s co-defendants. He had provided crucially damning testimony at Clinton’s trial, and the Court of Criminal Appeals agreed that it was possibly false and Clinton shouldn’t be executed until more investigating was done.
His life had been saved—temporarily, at least—but Clinton is still living in terrible conditions. He has been in solitary confinement for almost 20 years: That’s 20 birthdays without being celebrated; it’s 1,040 Mondays waking up in a 7-by-10-foot cage completely alone; it’s 7,300 days of total isolation with virtually no human contact. In the past 20 years, the only time Clinton has had any physical contact with another person is when prison staff have used force. He hasn’t felt his mother’s embrace since he was 18. The complete sensory deprivation is enough to break even the strongest person.
Clinton’s near-execution was a wake-up call for me. I started applying to law schools in Texas, with the ultimate goal of representing people with death sentences. I was admitted to a one-year master’s of law program at the University of Texas School of Law in Austin, which meant I would be living only four hours from the Polunsky Unit. My once-a-year visits became once-a-week visits. That year at law school, while I was working to understand a complex American judicial system, Clinton helped me with my studies. He gave me some of his law books, and he offered explanations for the legal theories I learned in class. Clinton is remarkably intelligent, and I often asked him to explain a certain law, legal term, or case. He would respond with a detailed letter full of case examples, explanations, and his personal annotations. My law school study materials consisted of legal anthologies, casebooks, my own notes, and Clinton’s letters. Clinton was a constant motivation to me throughout law school, and when I graduated in May 2020 with a specialization in capital punishment, I knew it was an accomplishment we had achieved together. Six months later, after the two-day, 12-hour Texas bar exam, I became a licensed attorney.
Last year, I established the U.S. chapter of the Clinton Young Foundation and became its general counsel. The nonprofit, once nothing more than a Facebook page with a mission, is now a multinational entity with the common goal to get Clinton off death row and help others who are similarly trapped in the American criminal “justice” system. The foundation has become my passion, and I’m making it my life’s work. The foundation’s mission isn’t fulfilled yet because Clinton is still on death row, but we are working to create a legacy for Clinton. If nothing else, I want the world to believe what I do, which is that he is innocent of murder and never received a fair trial.
Recently I read some of Clinton’s first letters to me, and I couldn’t help but smile. In his first one, from January 2015, he wrote, “Do you plan to come back to the U.S. any time in the near future? If you want to work on a case, why not work on mine?” Now I’m one of Clinton’s attorneys and I run a human rights organization in his name. I could have never imagined that my life would look like this. But I was lucky to meet the right person, who inspired me to take a different course.
And my work has only just begun.
Merel Pontier is a criminal defense attorney specializing in capital cases. She is the founder of the U.S. chapter of the Clinton Young Foundation as well as its general counsel.
Emily Bloom, a law student at the University of Texas at Austin and a board member of the Clinton Young Foundation, assisted in editing this article.
This post was published here.
I hope that you found the above of help and/or of interest. Similar content can be found on our main site here: www.southtxpointofsale.com Please let me have your feedback below in the comments section. Let us know what topics we should write about for you in future.
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Stories & important info on POS System Equipment and Point of Sale.
Editor’s note: This story was originally published in the Texas Observer’s May/June 2021 print edition. Since its publication, prosecutor Ralph Petty has surrendered his license to practice law. A district court judge in Midland has also recommended a new trial for Clinton Young.
From the May/June 2021 issue
It’s 2016, and I’m driving north on U.S. 59, a four-lane stretch of blacktop in Deep East Texas bordered by towering pines. This morning, I’d set out from New Orleans, where I intern at a public defender’s office, to make the five-hour trek to rural Polk County, northeast of Houston. I see my turnoff up ahead: the country road leading to the Allan B. Polunsky Unit, a maximum-security prison comprising a collection of drab concrete buildings hemmed in by barbed wire.
This is where a dear friend has been sentenced to die.
At the gate, the guards search the trunk of my car to make sure I’m not carrying any contraband. I park, go inside, and am escorted to the visitation area, a long, narrow room with rows of cubicles separated by a heavy sheet of plexiglass. The air is thick with conversations between incarcerated people and their visitors—doting wives who dream of the day they’re reunited with their husbands, crying babies that have never been held by their father or grandfather or uncle, fervently praying priests. I sit in a sticky chair in a cubicle that’s tinted yellow from the fluorescent lights overhead as I wait for my friend to arrive.
Eventually, a guard opens a door behind the glass and escorts Clinton into the cubicle opposite mine. He is tall, with pale blue eyes and a buzz cut. He’s in handcuffs. I consider Clinton a close friend after years of corresponding by letter, but I’ve never actually met him until today. And seeing him like this—handcuffed, locked behind a metal door—is disconcerting. Clinton Lee Young, standing in front of me at 32 years old, is treated as if he’s a killer.
I don’t think he killed anyone.
In 2000, a man named Doyle Douglas was killed in Longview as part of what police say was a drug deal and kidnapping gone wrong. Two days later, Samuel Petrey was killed in Midland. Police arrested Clinton, only 18 years old then, on suspicion of murder because he was present at both crime scenes. They also arrested two other people in connection to the deaths, who would later testify against Clinton. In 2003, he was convicted by a Midland County jury of capital murder, sentenced to death, and sent to the Polunsky Unit, the facility that houses all the men in Texas on death row. He’s been there ever since.
All of the men sentenced to death row in Texas are held at the Allan B. Polunsky Unit in Polk County. Texas Department of Criminal Justice/Wikimedia Commons
In January 2014, I saw a Dutch documentary about Clinton’s case that aired in the Netherlands, where I was born and grew up. By that time Clinton had been in solitary confinement on death row for 11 years. Meanwhile, I was finishing up law school in Rotterdam. I felt an inexplicable connection to Clinton, a feeling that was neither pity nor simple curiosity. I was immediately drawn to his story, and I didn’t want to just learn more about his case—I wanted to do more.
On the screen, I saw a young, healthy, and possibly innocent man explain his fate. It shocked me. In the Netherlands, not only has the death penalty been abolished for more than a millennium, but even a life sentence is rarely implemented. The justice system there focuses primarily on rehabilitation, which is why there is hesitancy to carry out an irreversible sentence. The death penalty’s only purpose is retaliation—a difficult concept for me to accept, both from a legal perspective and a humanitarian one. I wanted to help Clinton, so I started with the easiest thing I could do: I wrote him a letter. I told Clinton about my interest in the law, and he wrote back: “You know what your goals are. I think we will get along great.” He was right. Through our first few letters, we quickly developed a bond that later became a lifelong friendship.
I regularly visited Clinton the summer I worked in New Orleans. In fact, Clinton was a big part of the reason I applied for the internship to begin with. As our friendship grew, so did my interest in his legal case. I devoted hours every day to learning as much as I could about his conviction. The state’s case looked weak. There was no ballistic evidence, forensic evidence, fingerprints, or DNA to prove that Clinton was guilty of the killings, and the state was largely dependent on the testimony of his two co-defendants. (They received lenient sentences in return for their testimony against Clinton, which would later be deemed inconsistent and unreliable.) Later, in 2019, I would learn that Ralph Petty, the prosecutor in the case, had secretly worked for the judge as a paid law clerk. It was in this role that Petty drafted rulings in Clinton’s case, advised the judge on legal matters, and had access to confidential information that would otherwise not be accessible to a prosecutor. Petty’s relationship with the judge impacted dozens of other cases, robbing defendants of a fair trial.
Merel Pontier Photo by Louise Corazon
After completing my internship and returning to the Netherlands, I joined a nonprofit that had been created in Clinton’s name. Then the worst possible thing happened: The judge in Clinton’s case set an execution date for October 26, 2017. When his execution had not been stayed by October 18, I flew 13 hours from Amsterdam to Houston. While I was in the air, the court granted Clinton a stay of execution. Clinton’s legal relief came after new evidence emerged of possible false testimony by the state’s star witness, one of Clinton’s co-defendants. He had provided crucially damning testimony at Clinton’s trial, and the Court of Criminal Appeals agreed that it was possibly false and Clinton shouldn’t be executed until more investigating was done.
His life had been saved—temporarily, at least—but Clinton is still living in terrible conditions. He has been in solitary confinement for almost 20 years: That’s 20 birthdays without being celebrated; it’s 1,040 Mondays waking up in a 7-by-10-foot cage completely alone; it’s 7,300 days of total isolation with virtually no human contact. In the past 20 years, the only time Clinton has had any physical contact with another person is when prison staff have used force. He hasn’t felt his mother’s embrace since he was 18. The complete sensory deprivation is enough to break even the strongest person.
Clinton’s near-execution was a wake-up call for me. I started applying to law schools in Texas, with the ultimate goal of representing people with death sentences. I was admitted to a one-year master’s of law program at the University of Texas School of Law in Austin, which meant I would be living only four hours from the Polunsky Unit. My once-a-year visits became once-a-week visits. That year at law school, while I was working to understand a complex American judicial system, Clinton helped me with my studies. He gave me some of his law books, and he offered explanations for the legal theories I learned in class. Clinton is remarkably intelligent, and I often asked him to explain a certain law, legal term, or case. He would respond with a detailed letter full of case examples, explanations, and his personal annotations. My law school study materials consisted of legal anthologies, casebooks, my own notes, and Clinton’s letters. Clinton was a constant motivation to me throughout law school, and when I graduated in May 2020 with a specialization in capital punishment, I knew it was an accomplishment we had achieved together. Six months later, after the two-day, 12-hour Texas bar exam, I became a licensed attorney.
Last year, I established the U.S. chapter of the Clinton Young Foundation and became its general counsel. The nonprofit, once nothing more than a Facebook page with a mission, is now a multinational entity with the common goal to get Clinton off death row and help others who are similarly trapped in the American criminal “justice” system. The foundation has become my passion, and I’m making it my life’s work. The foundation’s mission isn’t fulfilled yet because Clinton is still on death row, but we are working to create a legacy for Clinton. If nothing else, I want the world to believe what I do, which is that he is innocent of murder and never received a fair trial.
Recently I read some of Clinton’s first letters to me, and I couldn’t help but smile. In his first one, from January 2015, he wrote, “Do you plan to come back to the U.S. any time in the near future? If you want to work on a case, why not work on mine?” Now I’m one of Clinton’s attorneys and I run a human rights organization in his name. I could have never imagined that my life would look like this. But I was lucky to meet the right person, who inspired me to take a different course.
And my work has only just begun.
Merel Pontier is a criminal defense attorney specializing in capital cases. She is the founder of the U.S. chapter of the Clinton Young Foundation as well as its general counsel.
Emily Bloom, a law student at the University of Texas at Austin and a board member of the Clinton Young Foundation, assisted in editing this article.
This post was published here.
I hope that you found the above of help and/or of interest. Similar content can be found on our main site here: www.southtxpointofsale.com Please let me have your feedback below in the comments section. Let us know what topics we should write about for you in future.
youtube
#Point of Sale#clover Pos Reviews#harbortouch Lighthouse#harbortouch Pos#harbortouch Support#lightspeed Pos Reviews#pos#shopkeep Support#toast Pos Reviews#touchbistro Cloud#touchbistro Reviews
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Crisis on Infinite Earths: Part One
Here we go folks.... "Champions from across the multiverse" sure seems to encompass only two earths.... Did they just cancel Titans in a 1-second cutaway?
(Obviously, I know they didn't just cancel Titans in a cutaway. But that would be epic way for them to do it...)
Man, Wesley Crusher's pissed about not being invited to be on Picard.... Wait, this universe destroying wave is making it's way towards the edge of the universe, where it will bounce back and destroy everything; and the only thing in it's current path before reaching the edge of the universe is Argos City?? ....(sigh)....Yeah, alright.... This is what Argos City gets for using AT&T as it's primary carrier.... Oh no, not Earth-38's Superman! How could they kill him forever and ever?? We'll never see him or Lois again.....😐 You know, when you have three consecutive shots all set on the same Earth, you don't have to do that thing where the number next to Earth scrolls through different permutations and lands on 1 each time. You can just put the number 1 after the first time; most of the people watching this already know that in spite of the name "Crisis on Infinite Earth" that it's mostly just two that that are predominantly going to be involved here; with the odd appearance of a few others.... (Sigh)....fucking "legends"..... but also....mmmm... Caity Lotz.....😍 Oh, thank God they told me we were back in the DEO on Earth-38. For a second I thought Alex was standing in my living room. And if you're wondering if my living room looks anything like the DEO, the answer is, no, but without the title card, how could I be sure? So, not surprisingly, Lyla arrived on Argo City at the last minute and saved Clark and Lois (along with the other residents of Argos City, I'm sure.....😒) - but then both Lois and Clark took time go change clothes too? Don't worry Kara, I'm sure you'll see your mother later; or some version of her - her double is married to your cousin's doppelganger on another Earth; which isn't...weird at all..... Also, holy shit, it actually has been nearly 8 years since Smallville went off the air. And I haven't even been tempted to re-watch that show, and I've re-watched a bunch of shows numerous times in that same period; Buffy, Angel, Stargate SG1, and am presently on re-watching Burn Notice. But definitely not Smallville. I mean, I'm sure it's fine, it's not like it hasn't aged poorly or any of the cast have gone to jail anything.... So Kate does know Kara and presumably Oliver and Barry... so when the fuck did she meet them? They met her last year, but she wasn't active until this year and didn't even have the red hair until like, a month ago. Did the reality wave also bump all of them to like, last week or something; and then they got sent back...? 🤷♂️
Wait, where's Barry? And why hasn't anyone else asked "Where's Barry?" With all non-powered people involved, the absence of one of the few meta-heroes you know should pique some curiosity. Not to mention, the acknowledgement of Earth-2 being destroyed would have reasonably elicited a bigger response from someone, like Barry, who actually knew people on Earth-2.
Finally, Oliver asks about Barry, but that still seems like a question that should have been asked before the meeting began. I care less about him asking where the "legends" are, because honestly.....do you want to fuck this up.....?
Yeah, I guess "quantum tower" sounds better than "dimensional tuning fork"....
Oh fuck you writers. Fuck, fuck you. So now you're going to tell us that the Star City in 2046 was never Star City's future; and that the Waverider just casually took you to a parallel universe and back again and nobody noticed?? Fuck you.
Has it really taken a season and a half for Mia to properly suit up and become a "Green Arrow"? I must be losing it, because I....swear she worn a costume/uniform out in the field.
What part of "I temporarily had my memory partial wipe in order to protect Supergirl's identity" a long story? I mean, sure, there's a lot more to that to dig into, but that's a pretty concise recap and salient point in the whole brouhaha over Kara keeping her identity from Lena.... But I guess when the skies turn red and the world starts quaking....
Augh.....You know Lena, fuck you and your pity party. This woe is me crap is getting old fast; and the writers better fucking wise up and either have her snap out of it or completely crossover into the territory of irredeemable villain pretty fucking soon. And if it's going to be the latter, don't dither by trying to dither by making her one of those "misguided" villains who just thinks they're the right and everyone else is wrong. Go full tilt, fuck all bad guy wracking up the body count and pulling people's strings.
So apparently Oliver on Earth-16 had some work done, because for 2046, he doesn't look that much older than he does in the present day; and a lot younger than the last time the "legends" came here.
Well, retrieving Jonathan from Earth-16 seems to have been pointless....
Boy, Oliver and Kate sure love doing a lot of unnecessary gymnastics moves. It's like they're to one up each other. "Oh, you can do a spin followed by a somersault? Well, I'm going to spin twice and roll forward into a handspring."
Brainy's had this huge fucking Legion ship this whole fucking time and it's never come up before now??
What is the point of Sara having this conversation with a version of Oliver who isn't the main, conventional version of Oliver? Seems like this would be a more poignant moment between the "real" Oliver and Sara. And did if this is the Earth the "legends" came to in season 1, didn't Oliver meet her? Did they go to an earlier point in 2046 than the "legends"? (and no, I will not stop putting "legends" in sarcastic quotation marks, or keeping the L in small caps.)
They've established that when Superman and Supergirl go "super flare" they're powerless for a full 24 hours. And the one time Kara did it, it took a little longer than that - and that's when the skies were blue and the sun was shinning. Since they fell out of the sky, are they powerless now?
Oh, for fuck sake, are they going to make Kelly the new Guardian? I guess it wouldn't be an Avengers rip-off without a so-called hero with a shield....
Well, I guess Superman and Supergirl aren't de-powered....
Seriously, the Monitor poofs all the other heroes away, whether they were ready to leave or not, but Oliver of all people gets to say 'no' and keep fighting? Because of course he has a weapon to stun the Monitor. And he finally runs out of arrows. About damn time. But why would he drop his bow? He's used it before as a defensive weapon in it's own right.
Were they doing a legitimate evacuation of the entirety of Earth-38? Because that's a tall fucking order....
Come on, how the fuck can Barry tell that this Wells is "Nash" and not one of the million other fucking Wells he's met over the last five and a half years? Augh.... between Wells/Pariah and Lyla/Harbinger, I really hope we don't have any more characters taking on the other comic identities. I know Lyla is Harbinger from the Comics and the Lyla is even the comic book character's proper name, but the way they're introducing them in their new roles is just so fucking forced. Especially when they've had weeks to get both of them there more naturally and squandered it. Especially Wells, I think. They could have used someone like Harry from Earth-2, which would have had the benefit of more established character history, while also giving us a glimpse into the possible fates of some of the other Earth-2 characters we've met, who we can only otherwise assume died and aren't even being acknowledged.
You gotta love everyone's timing here; big climactic, literally world ending battle, a quest to retrieve a baby and whatever the fuck "Nash" has been up to and they're all popping in to the same place at the same time. And did Brainy or Sara coordinate with anyone about returning to Earth-1 instead of Earth-38? You know, the Earth they originally left from?
Oh, no, Oliver has died. And I'm sure he's never coming back..... 😐🙄
Not for nothing, I think it's worth noting, part way through this, I may have been scrolling through Facebook and commented on an article on a theatre page, where I criticized the content of the article and words were exchanged with the OP, who didn't like my criticism and tried to take a shot at my length of my post, rather than it's substance, by saying it was too long and they didn't read it - or, you know, "tld, dr;" because for some people, full sentences make them cry. But it also made me laugh, because that post was legitimately not that long; and certainly had nothing on the crap I post on here....
At any rate, interesting episode. I kind of feel like I need to watch it again, without constantly pausing it to type my comments, and let it sink in more.
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