#the end became so. rushed. time distribution is my weakness...

[elis-corner]

Challenge time.

Character: Grian

Photo: [ID: Sun setting over a snowy landscape, containing a few houses and trees]

Theme: Fluff! (Bonus challenge: yandere tendencies it as well. This is a bonus challenge and if you can't think of anything that's okay! I can't, it's just there for fun really if you want to but fluff is what I would like most)

I'm glad to have you back, good luck with your assessments, be sure to self care and I look forward to fics and art from you in the future :D

Thanks for the contribution Nix :) The exam is in a few hours and this is helpful in terms of figuring out how to distribute my time, and getting some practice in. For people who didn't see, I have a writing exam I needed help preparing for, and so Nix came down as the angel she is and provided me with a visual stimulus, theme, character, et cetera, and I wrote something using them in 55 minutes (planning, writing, and editing included)

A quick note about the story for anyone who somehow gets confused, this takes place in Season Six. I saw the image and thought instantly about Hermitville. I promise I'm not making things up, and I double checked the facts that are noted here ;)

-

You bend down to look at the glass floor beneath you that in your memory marked the beginning of the Civil War that had ended a few months prior. Though your reflection in part obscures the map, you can still clearly make out the locations of the different bases, the shopping district, and everyone’s bases. Your team–the G-Team–had managed to secure the final flag mere milliseconds before the final death. You close your eyes, so clearly able to see the moment as if it were projected onto the back of your head. The fallen look on your face as you saw Mumbo fall to the floor, Impulse standing proudly over him, his helmet slightly tilted as he raised his sword again to chase you down. The weapon falling from his hand as he glanced at his communicator–your arm was numb and bloodied, and you had not felt it vibrating furiously against your skin; several messages from Grian, each of them reading “FLAG CAPTURED”, followed by Mumbo’s death message. At the very last moment, the flag had been placed on the wall of the G-Team headquarters. You had won and the war was over. And an hour after, once everyone had conversed and agreed it was truly a G-Team win, Grian had pulled you aside, insisting to look at your arm, and not leaving you despite your reassurance that you were perfectly fine. He had grabbed your hand and looked into your eye, telling you how scared he was that you would be badly hurt as the battle began, how when he saw you afterwards it was like an arrow to his chest. He told you he never wanted to see you maimed like that again. And he told you that he loved you.

‘Y/n!’ You are pulled out of your pensive state at the sound of a warm, welcoming voice calling your name. Vibrant reds, yellows, and blues surround you slowly, tickling your skin where the coloured feathers brush against it. ‘How are you, my little bird?’

You turn to face your lover, fingers straying to run through his feathers. ‘I’m fine, I guess. I was just thinking about everything that’s happened in the past few months since we started here.’ You gaze up into his eyes, and you note the excited glare reflecting off them. ‘What did you do, Grian?’

‘Nothing!’ he exclaims in fake offence. ‘I am shocked you would even suggest something so outlandish. But, I do have something I want to show you.’ You nod and he wraps his arms around your waist and back tightly so as to prevent you from slipping from his arms, and he takes off into the sky. His hand keeps your head pressed against his chest, inhaling the fibres of his sweater. You smile at how easy it is to tell where he’s been just by what you can feel against your skin–you can feel the fine, granular texture of redstone rub against you, a clear sign he’s been around Mumbo. You couldn’t help but feel even slightly jealous. Grian had been so caught up in Architech projects that how often you spend good time together has slowly become less and less, to the point at which you can’t help but question whether he really cared anymore.

Slowly you can feel the air around you grow colder, and not long after, Grian landed, though he still held you in his arms. ‘Turn around.’ His grip loosens as his arms fall to his sides. You turn to see a breathtaking sight.

A settlement you could only describe as a village stood before you. Each of the houses have a soft white powder, reflected into various hues of orange and pink by the setting sun, sprinkled thickly across the roof, and the trees are also littered with it. You lean back, and you can hear the satisfying crunch of snow beneath his feet as he comes to stand closer to you. The air is void from your lungs, the words you wanted to say are gone, lost from your lips where they were waiting to be said. ‘I- Did you build this? It’s beautiful, Grian, really.’

‘I wish I could take the credit.’ You can tell he’s smiling at you through his voice alone. ‘It’s a village, though. Not a single Hermit put in any effort into making it.’

‘But it’s so… unique! I’ve never seen a single village like it before. How did you find it?’

‘Ex-eye-suma found it,’ he said, the incorrect emphasis so iconically Grian, ‘and some of us Hermits are creating a bit of a new start over here.’ He begins to walk in a hurry, as if he were being chased by someone for breaking their redstone, and you follow. He comes to a stop in front of a house on your right. ‘And this,’ he smiles at you, ‘is mine. Ours, if you will. If you want, of course, it’s not something you have to agree to, but I just thought–.’

‘Yes, love. It’s ours. Our first home together. Our own little nest in Hermitville.’

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)

Happy birthday to @genovah​! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.

***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3

xxx

In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back. 

“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table. 

“Yup.”

“Did you need me to repeat the word?”

“Yup.”

“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.

This, of course, was fine. 

“Origin?” he asked. 

She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”

Fuck.

“I…”

Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”

“I am not fine with that.”

Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.). 

All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down. 

“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”

It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.

Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”  

Yeah, she knows a lot of things.

The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself. 

Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee. 

“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack. 

Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius. 

He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later. 

“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”

Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”

Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”

Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”

It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”

Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”

Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other. 

Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week. 

“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card. 

“Anytime.”

“Your word is eudaemonic.”

That fucking gorgeous ooh again.

“Define it.”

Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”

Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.

“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête. 

Don’t think about tête-à-têtes. 

Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).

“Brick?”

Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”

Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning. 

Milieu was her word. 

“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”

You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.

Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”

Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library. 

“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them. 

By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel. 

“Okay, ready for another round?” 

She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”

One more.

If it was another French word, he was fucking done. 

“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad. 

If it’s another fucking French word…

He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence. 

“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”

The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas. 

xxx

“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”

Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”

Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”

“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”

“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”

“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”

“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”

“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”

Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”

“Who?”

Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”

At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!” 

“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float. 

Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”

“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”

Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”

“The hell they are,” Buttercup said. 

Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”

“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”

“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”

“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”

Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”

The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.

“Hey, do you think…” 

“I mean…” Boomer shrugged. 

They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”

“Completely uneven—”

The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board. 

Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.

“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself. 

“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said. 

Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning. 

Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down. 

He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.

xxx

Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨

[lynnsfics]

Feisty

Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Request: “race or spot x feisty reader/oc + prompt #84 (sarcasm) from list 2 could be really fun! if it's not a bother, tysm 🖤”

Prompt: “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!”

Word Count: Approx. 1.7k

~~~

“Wait up,” Race called as you ran down the steps of the newsies boarding house. Although you felt bad, you didn’t stop. You had barely had time to get dressed before you heard the morning bell. The papes were already being sold and you had just left the house. Race being late was his own problem, not yours. 

As you finally reached the distribution center for the papers you sighed with relief. Fortunately for you, they hadn’t completely sold out. However, that meant the headline wasn’t an easy seller, so you’d be in for a long day. Race caught up with you at the selling window. 

“Hey, why didn’t’ya wait up?” he asked. 

“Because it’d be great if we were both late,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He looked confused for a moment and then sighed with exasperation. “Oh, youse is bein’ sarcastic again. You know I hate when you do that.”

“Sorry Race,” you laughed. “But you know I can’t be late. ‘M already almost behind on my payments for the lodging.” 

Race nodded in understanding. It was the same story for a lot of newsies, not being able to scrape together the money for lodging and then being out on the streets. “Why don’t we’s sell together today? I already has enough for my rent this month, so you can take some of my extra papes.” 

You didn’t want to accept help from anybody, least of all Race. Part of you was worried he would resent you if you held him back, and for some reason that terrified you. “Are ya’ sure? I’ll be fine on my own as always, really.”

He shook his head, “Just because youse is ‘fine’ doesn’t mean that you should have to be all alone.” 

Looking down, you nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Race.” You prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t notice the blush spreading across your cheeks. “We’d best buy some papes and start selling then, huh?”

You handed your money to Weasel, who was standing at the window counting the day’s profit. “I’ll take 50 papes, as usual.” 

“Are you sure you can sell that many?” Oscar Delancey taunted. “It’s not a great headline, and you ain’t exactly the top seller anyways.”

Race shot him a glare but you already had a scathing response prepared.  “Oscar, I know it’s difficult for youse to understand, but sales ain’t based wholly on the headline. Stunning good looks also factor in, which must explain why you and your brother never made it as newsies.”

“You’d better watch it,” Oscar threatened, balling his hand into a fist. He narrowed his eyes and you could tell he was getting irritated. 

As soon as Race bought his papers you were off. Although you weren’t opposed to punching a Delancey, you would hate to get all mussed up. After all, you had to at least look a little bit respectable, that way you could sell in the wealthier areas without attracting any trouble. 

You turned to Race with a grin, “So, where to first?”

He shook his head, “Youse is gonna get in trouble for talking back one of these days, you’re too feisty for your own good. But I found a great selling spot in upper Manhattan. People there give great tips too.” 

“Perfect,” you said with a light laugh. “And I thinks I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Those Delanceys won’t even know what hit ‘em.”

Race simply rolled his eyes in response. “I certainly hope so,” he laughed. “Let’s head out before everyone in this city already has a pape.”

It was a fairly quick walk, but the brisk morning air made it seem longer than it was. Race looked over at you, noting that you had been strangely silent for most of the trip. When he saw you silently shivering he smiled to himself. Of course you were too proud to even mention it. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. He already knew what your answer would be, but he decided to ask anyway. At least then it would seem like he hadn’t already made up his mind on what he was about to do.

Just like he predicted, you answered with a simple, “Yes, why?” However a visible shiver passed over you as you answered, giving away your lie.

“Because you seem cold,” he said, trying his best to sound exasperated and not concerned. He knew if he seemed worried you’d refuse his offer, not wanting to seem weak. “Here, take my coat, I don’t need it.”

“Race, no,” you shook your head. “You do need it.”

“Not as much as you do,” he countered. Despite your protests he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders. “Don’t even try to give it back ‘til we’s done selling.”

You sighed and nodded, “Fine.” To be honest, it really helped against the chill. Although you knew Race didn’t need it as much, it still pained you to take it from him. There was no way he would take it back, though. He could be as stubborn as you when he wanted to be. 

When you finally reached the neighborhood you breathed a sigh of relief. There were no other newsies in sight, which meant you were probably the first ones there. Or, you thought, the others had already sold everyone a paper and you wouldn’t make any sales. Hopefully it wasn’t the latter. 

Once you began calling out headlines, both real and slightly made-up, you realized your initial impression was correct. Your papers sold fairly quickly and you received a few nice tips too. The whole time you weren’t selling you spent talking to Race about anything and everything. 

Before you knew it the day was winding to a close and you had sold all your papes. Night was falling quickly and you had to hurry back to the lodging house. There was hardly any light on the streets and you became turned around. 

As you tried to navigate on the darkened street you realized you had become separated from Race. You called out to him, “Race? Where are you?” Someone grabbed your hand and you jumped. Your heartbeat calmed, however, when you saw it was just him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you scolded, “I could’ve had a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I was jus’ worried ‘cause it’s easy to get lost here. Since I know the way I thought this’d be a safer way of heading back.” He motioned to his hand, still linked with yours. You nodded silently, thankful he wouldn’t notice your blush in the dark. 

The trip back to the lodging house seemed to drag on for eternity as your heart raced in your chest. While you had always considered Race a friend, you had secretly wondered if there was any chance of something more. After the day’s events you realized how much you wanted the chance to be real. 

When you finally returned to the lodging house you quickly said goodnight to Race before rushing to your room. On the way, however, you were stopped by Jack, who was looking at you confusedly. 

“Are you wearing Racetrack’s jacket?” he asked you. 

Shit. You had entirely forgotten to give it back in your haste to get to your room. “Oh, yeah, he lent it to me for sellin’ today. It was chilly so…” you trailed off, praying Jack wouldn’t ask anymore questions. While he had always been like an older brother to you that also meant he teased you like an older brother would. Which, unfortunately, included joking with you when he thought you liked someone.

Somehow Jack had figured out that you had a tiny crush on Race and was determined to set you two up, and tonight was no exception. “Well I didn’t know youse was sellin’ together,” he said with a smirk. 

You answered quickly, “It was just for today, no big deal.” 

“Well, if youse ever does get together don’t say I didn’t call it.”

Rolling your eyes, you began to grow defensive, “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!” Even as you said it you knew it was a bad excuse. 

Jack chuckled lightly, “Sounds like something someone makin’ up excuses would say.” Damn it, he knew you too well. “Maybe you should go give him his jacket back and, I dunno, talk to him a bit.”

He was right as always. There was no way you could keep living like this, you had to confront how you felt, which meant confessing to Race. “I think I will,” you said softly. “G’night Kelly.” 

You slowly made your way to the front of the lodging house. Somehow you knew Race hadn’t gone to bed yet. When you stepped out into the cold night air, you knew you were right. The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted up the steps from where Race was sitting. 

“Hey Race,” you said quietly. “I realized I never gave you your coat back and,” you shrugged, holding it out to him. 

He took it silently and you sat down next to him. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me sell my papes today, and for lending me your jacket and, everything, really.”

Race smiled, “Of course. It was nice having someone to sell with.” You could tell something was on his mind, he seemed distant. 

“I’m glad you came out here,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Lately I’ve been thinking, and well,” he paused before continuing, “what if we went out sometime? If you don’t want to that’s fine,” he said quickly, “but I was thinking we could go on a date or something.”

Before you could second-guess yourself you leaned and pressed your lips to his. Your heart was pounding in your chest and after a split-second he returned the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft, and unsurprisingly, the kiss tasted of cigar smoke and something sweet that you couldn’t quite place. When you finally pulled away you were breathless.

He grinned, putting an arm around your waist, “So, is that a yes?”

You laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s a yes.”

~~~

Requested By: anon

Why do my newsies fics always end up longer than I originally plan? Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and as always likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

[vrmndlnnn]

"A Family in a Midst of Pandemic"

It is the 17th day of March where the Philippine Government declared the country on a state of calamity for six months.

It was early in the morning while Rogelio and his family were watching television then suddenly a news flash just came out. According to the news, there is an infectious disease spreading throughout the country known as the Covid-19 which is caused by a newly discovered coronavirus. In addition, most people who fall sick with this virus will experience mild to moderate symptoms and recover without special treatment.

Everyone was shocked and slight panicking after they heard the news. Rogelio’s father, Papa Jon, is worried about the safety and health of his family and how this crisis may affect their lives.

“So what do we do honey?” Mama Aurora asked.

“We must wait for our mayor’s advisory so we could know what actions we must do”

“But what if something happens now or tomorrow?”

“I won’t let anything harm you and our family honey, trust me.”

Bill switched the show to the news channel and there we heard more information about this issue. According to the news reporter, the government will conduct quarantine to those towns and provinces with a high number of Covid-19 cases. Imus City is one of those town that has many records of Covid-19 cases that is why this area is declared to conduct ECQ or Enhanced Community Quarantine and will undergo many safety health protocols.

All government offices and private businesses except those providing essential services, were required to work from home or closed. Public transportation was suspended, and everyone was required to practice social distancing and wear face masks.

Papa is now struggling and much worried because he won’t have that much income to sustain our family everyday as he wasn’t able to work outside, while Mama is also worried if there are enough food and supplies in the house.

“Kuya Rogelio, what is going on? What is mama and papa worrying about?” Bill asked.

“Let’s just say that we are facing a really bad virus that wants to make as feel sick”

“Oh no, is that the reason why mama and papa feel bad right now?”

“Yeah Bill, but you don’t need to worry about that, we’re going to be superheroes just like superman and batman and we’re going to fight this bad villain”

“Yey, I wanna be a superhero kuya! I wanna help mama and papa”

“I’m sure you’re going to be a best one.”

Bill rush with excitement and heads to mama and papa. He hug them really tight as he says, “Mama, Papa, I am a superhero!”

“Oh sweetie, you really make mama and papa so happy and proud” Mama Aurora said.

It was a relief to make my little brother smile at that time. Another reason to make mama and papa happy despite of what’s happening.

The next day, there is a distribution of FM pass (Food and Medicine pass) on our community. They told us that the holder of this is the only one that can go outside to buy their essential goods and necessities. And also, as announced by the Presidential Spokesperson Harry Roque, there will be also distribution of SAP or Social Amelioration Program by LGU’s in every provinces there is.

Papa Jon was the holder of our family’s FM pass so he will be the one receiving the help from the government. Mama Aurora thinks the beneficiary of this SAP is very helpful for us, especially for those incompetent families to somehow sustain themselves this pandemic.

As the days goes by, many cases are recorded and many families and households are suffering as their communities undergo ECQ and the government funds are gradually being depleted.

“Papa, the news said that there are still cases in our community, it’s still growing papa” Rogelio said.

“Son, I know we really in our tough times so I want you to be strong and optimistic. We will get through this.”

He smiled and hug his father. Papa Jon always enlighten everyone to think better and positive because as this virus spread, depression and anxiety arises.

More days come and then one day, Papa Jon became seriously ill and continued to have headaches and coughs as well. He is weak and any medicine given to him does not work. They immediately called an emergency and rushed him to the hospital. Mama Aurora joined the frontliners and she assigned Rogelio to temporarily guard the house and take care his little brother. He also informed them that they had enough food to eat in the refrigerator and if they have needs or problem, they must not hesitate to call their mother.

Before they left Mama Aurora hugged and kissed her children and then hurriedly said goodbye. Bill burst into tears after his mother left with his father.

“Kuya Rogelio why did they leave?” Bill asked.

*Bill is sobbering from tears*

“They will take care of papa for now Bill”

“Is papa going to be okay kuya?”

“Papa will be alright, he is strong and brave after all, we just need to pray for his immediate recovery”

“I know papa Jesus will take care of him, right kuya?”

“Of course Bill, now I’m going to take you on bed so you can sleep”

“Okay kuya.”

While Bill was asleep, Rogelio went out into their yard to freshen up and meditate. She was terrified after her father fell ill and was taken to the hospital. Many things go through his mind that cause him not to sleep that night. As he thought and worried about his father's condition he suddenly remembered what his father had told him.

“Son, I know we really in our tough times so I want you to be strong and optimistic. We will get through this.”

He wept and regained his composure.

Mama Aurora returned without her husband. She quickly disinfected herself because she came from the hospital. She spoke to her son, Rogelio about their father.

“Don't let your brother know what happened to your father first because he won't understand it yet” Mama Aurora said.

“Your father has symptomatic signs and has a mild illness of Covid-19”

“What?”

“Are you serious, mama?”

Rogelio burst in tears after he heard his Mama Aurora.

“He will now undergo quarantine and let’s pray for his recovery”

“Yes mama.”

Mama Aurora is now unable to visit Papa Jon as this was a strict protocol held by the government. Their family was devastated when they could not be with Papa Jon. Bill was sad and misses his dad.

One night, Rogelio saw his mother outside wandering.

“Are you alright mama?”

“Yes sweetie, mama’s fine, I really just misses your father”

“Your father is the one who encourages the family. Whenever we are weak, he always there to support us and be our companion. Now that he is weak, we weren’t there beside him to support and show our love for him” Mama said

“Yes it’s true” Rogelio replied

“But you know mama, even though papa is far away I know he continues to fight for us. He is recovering so that he can go home immediately. Everything he does is for our family. We just need to support and believe him. We need to believe that he can successfully pass all the challenges and struggles he is facing right now because we are his family. We are his strength and inspiration.”

“You are right son, and just for a second, I see your father in you. I know one day, you’re going to be a good father to your family”

“Thank you mama, I love you”

“I love you too sweetie.”

Several weeks later and today was Papa Jon’s Birthday. Mama received a call from a hospital where his husband was admitted.

They said that Papa Jon is now recovered and can go home as soon as possible.

Everyone is so relieved and very happy. They held a small party for Papa Jon. They cooked her favorite dish and bought a cake. They can't wait for his arrival because at last, they will be able to hug and be with their Papa Jon again.

An hours later, the wait comes to an end. Papa Jon has finally arrived. Rogelio and his brother Bill shouted “Welcome home, Papa!” They hugged their father and their mother burst with tears.

“Oh my children, my wife, I’ve been waiting for this moment to come” Papa Jon said

“I always pray that someday I can see all of you, I’ve miss all of you very much”

“Thank you God for this wonderful gift.”

A family must shows courage and love to its members despite all uncertainty. They actually are all in this together. They all must do it to get through it.

Vermond Lennon A. Dinglasa Ms. Kae Dilla

G11- Rizal A

[heymistercory]

7 Tips To Obtain New Inventors Believing Like Effective Developers

Specifically, as a more recent financier, try to keep in mind that slow and stable success this race. Don't rush anything; your perseverance will certainly pay off as long as you are careful.

Investing in each action of the invention procedure reciprocates in both the short term (your first patent, and so on) and the longer-term (an understanding of exactly how this process is repeatable). Also find out InventHelp Crunchbase

1: Do Not Tell The World Concerning Your Invention Suggestion...

I received an e-mail lately that appeared like it was from Wal-Mart. Become a fraudster seeking to turn me into a target.

In 2015, my bank card was reported as utilized in Florida when I remained in New York City-- for $4,000.

There was even a Vice President at one of my old businesses who took my idea for an analytics reporting system and also shared it with the entire company as his very own.

What's the point of these tales?

The world has lots of people seeking a shortcut or an easy way to get rich.

They are probably heartless contrasted to you; predators.

Don't let somebody take advantage of your idea-- who recognizes, it could be a million (or billion) buck idea!

The last point you desire is to see it on the shelf understanding it was your brainchild, however, you do not obtain a cent in royalties for it. So try to keep your suggestion under covers, specifically in the early stages of the invention process.

2: Study The Need For Your Item Idea.

Eventually or one more, we've all had great concepts ... or so we thought.

In 3rd grade, I would have vouched that a double-sided toothbrush was going to save the globe about 25 seconds of their morning.

That was till I damaged a toothbrush as well as glued the head to the back of an additional full toothbrush. When I stuck it in my mouth I understood that I was mostly brushing (or stabbing) the inside of my cheeks.

I handed down that, thanks - It was better to enjoy the various other children explode volcanoes full of food coloring at the scientific research fair.

I was lucky though.

The study it took me to understand my intention was not possible was just about 10 minutes.

The truth is, if you want your invention idea to appear, you'll need to spend time and also resources in investigating the concept to identify if there is a market for your product.

Here are just a few of the concerns you'll wish to respond to when you're starting.

What problem does my item resolve?

Has this issue been addressed before (or tried)?

Just how will my item be made use of?

Will my product sell? (Exists industrial stability?).

To whom? (Target audience?).

Is it like anything else in the marketplace? (Elaborate on this, certainly - what fads are taking place in the market? Just how jampacked is it? Are people spending essentially on products I might take on? What're the social networks buzz around my specific niche?).

What marketing difficulties might I encounter?

A lot of innovators avoid this action as well as I completely comprehend why they do.

Two factors.

It can be lengthy.

It can seem (or be) costly.

I get it. You're delighted concerning your product so you feel like the world will certainly be delighted - certainly, there is a requirement, you're fixing a problem!

All that time and all that money invested in research study as well as answering concerns will only confirm what you already know, best?

Not always.

The successful ones are the ones that do their research.

Those who fail to spend ahead of time are supplying the typical death penalty to their invention. As a financier, you require to comprehend if the market demands your service You can also check https://www.wikidata.org/wiki/Q64627233

3: Record WHATEVER.

From the minute that suggestion precipitates, it's paramount to monitor every facet of the concept.

No matter if your concept changes a hundred times over, you always want to be the proprietor, the owner, of every idea that went into the invention as well as ultimately became the product.

So, specifically, what should you be recording?

Every thought and suggestion that at all concerns your invention (I uncommitted if you dream it ... PAPER IT!). You can always return to these notes, repeat on them, incorporate them in brand-new means, and so on. Much more notably, if anything is ever doubted, you have proof that the suggestion is yours.

All information that you can think about that helps you explain the invention.

Usage instances. What is your product for? What does it do? What problem or difficulty does it address? That will be utilizing it?

Where do you think it could be sold? What kind of shops? Is it part of something that currently exists?

How will it be made? Out of what?

Just how will you construct a prototype? Will you require aid?

To find full-circle right here, simply DOCUMENT EVERYTHING! I do not know if I can pierce this in any additional:-RRB-.

Why you ought to record your invention.

At some point in the invention cycle, you might need to prove that you are the proprietor of your suggestion. You may also need to confirm that you thought of a particular element of your invention.

Taxes! That's right - you can use your notes as well as files on costs for tax deductions.

Maintaining solid, systematic documentation of every idea you have and also every action you take allows you to take advantage of in-depth research and examine your work in the future so you can obtain innovative as well as build even more on it.

You're taping every little thing regarding your invention so you never forget also one thought you had regarding your idea.

4: Look For Professional Assist With Patents.

If you are new to investing, you'll intend to discover as high as you can around licenses (in addition to trademarks and also copyrights, yet that is a later lesson).

A research study ought to be an everyday activity for you.

Patents are a vast topic; it's the ocean of the invention procedure.

It's additionally a subject in which oceans of information are offered ... and also not all of it is true.

If you don't do your recon, it's a type of simple to get misguided or, also worse, capitalized on. As well as all of us recognize misaligned folks are plenty.

One terrific resource is constantly the United States Patent & Hallmark Workplace (USPTO). Nonetheless, in full disclosure, their site can be rather difficult to navigate and follow. It might befit you give some people there a call to ask certain concerns (though I'm not exactly sure the length of time delay time gets on their call center).

Another thing you can do is talk to a patent lawyer.

Below's a free life hack for you, some patent advice you probably won't find in other places:

Provide out concerns you want to ask the initial one. With those responses, try to ask smarter, much more enlightened questions to the 2nd one ... and so on - you get me.

5: Learn Exactly How To Present And Pitch (yes, I indicate OFFER!).

When I watch Shark Storage tank, I always keep a close eye on the instance each individual makes to the Sharks for their invention or product.

There are specific qualities I search for and also in my head, I generally rank each business owner weak or solid on each (or, in some cases, simply terrible).

The characteristics fall into 2 categories:

The speaker.

The discussion.

The owner of the suggestion or invention, the speaker, ought to show some innate top qualities if they intend to be perceived as a person a Shark can do service with. Before I provide those qualities, I simply want to mention "innate" ... meaning, some individuals are natural at specific points.

What I wouldn't condone is attempting to entirely be something you aren't.

If discussions, as well as sales, aren't your strong suit, I suggest training.

I've recently added an article regarding pitching your concept, whether it's to a shark or other investor, to a business, or a prospective partner.

To me, the best presenters are positive.

They make eye call, talk eloquently, and rely on their words.

When you do that, when you control the space fearlessly, you start to regulate the audience to pay attention to what you're stating.

As soon as you've "hypnotized" them, you can start to throw off Subliminals (such as a nod when you desire the possible buyer, investor, or Shark to believe "yes" in their head).

If you present self-confidence as a presenter, your distribution will constantly go from a 6 to an 8, specifically.

An additional quality of a wonderful presenter is going to hold your horses.

You work out persistence by paying attention, taking in, as well as analyzing things as you are offering your presentation.

Don't quickly look to be listened to; you'll get your chance.

Slow down, listen to what a prospective investor is stating, as well as see just how you can empathize.

The toughest presentations need to be tales, computer-animated by utilizing the brand name photo, look, and also really feel.

Stories have a beginning, middle, and end, as well as they always have a point.

Props must be utilized as required.

I when saw a person who developed a canteen that opened up on both sides (for far better cleansing). It was geared towards the athletic neighborhood as well as sporting activities gamers.

When he came on Shark Container, he had Costs Walton as his mascot - what a mind-blowing concept! (Particularly if you take into consideration that Mark Cuban is a Shark ... as well as he got a handle him).

If you have an invention and you wish to sell it, simply remember that you eventually need to sell it in some way.

You'll require to pitch the suggestion probably numerous times before it begins to materialize. Function on that lift pitch and also never stop boosting it from there.

6: Learn About Appraisal, Equity, Accountancy, And Organisation Money.

You wish to be fiscally responsible with your invention idea. I can't claim it any less complex than this.

As the proprietor of an invention, you definitely must know what the invention is worth.

Know your numbers.

As well as when you do, you sure better understand why it's worth that.

I have discussed research many times in this post, and also it's a popular string throughout this website for a factor: If you're not knowledgeable, you can pretty conveniently end up on the wrong side of a bad deal.

I recommend you do some analysis regarding bookkeeping, personal financing, company valuation, and various other financial subjects.

If time is way too much of a commodity, find out exactly how to take in info various other means - podcasts could be an excellent technique.

You'll intend to be a master of numbers.

It guarantees you aren't taken benefit of.

Second, when you do go pitch this concept or invention to investors, you'll likely be prompted on-the-spot to chat numbers. You better understand them. And when a person starts to make a deal, you wish to ensure the numbers they are offering are in the array you valuated your invention or business.

The evaluation of inventions is vital when identifying the general value.

Yet valuation is a pretty complicated subject; this is hardly introductory to Assessment 101.

And the truth is that evaluation can come down to a mix of complex calculations, extensive projections, and a peppering of ordinary old intestine instincts.

If you can confirm out that your invention fulfills an unmet demand or gets over a typical obstacle that appears to bug a big number of individuals, after that you can make a fairly strong situation for an economic benefit (and a good one for buy-in from investors) ... however, that doesn't suggest a real worth can be established.

With gray areas, the best point a brand-new investor can do is develop their abilities on the financial side of points. Math ninja would certainly be excellent.

7: Be Reasonable. You, Will, Requirement To Invest Time & Money To Make Money.

It takes a lot of individual financial investment to succeed as a capitalist.

That investment is available in several means: You'll be investing time right into establishing your suggestion; initiative into your patent; money right into your model; personal room and/or family time to make ends satisfy ... you get it.

This isn't a very easy roadway. Nothing beneficial was ever that easy.

And also as much as you're an optimist, be open to the potential of not making it, specifically with your initial invention.

It's OKAY to stop working.

A fantastic capitalist as soon as claimed "A creator can fall short 999 times, as well as if he is successful once, he remains in. He treats his failures simply as method shots.".

[ask-de-writer]

CRAWFEATHER! : MLP Fan Fiction

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CRAWFEATHER!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1382 words

© 2019 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/16/19

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Cory grinned meanly as he bounced the heavy bag from hoof to hoof while he offered, “Yah, I got the money that I owes you, Canter.  It's right here.  Not gonna pay you, though.  Not yet.  I means, it is Nightmare Night.  I will give you the money first thing in the morning.  Just spend the night in the old Crawfeather place.  Should be a piece of cake, after all, you don't believe in ghosts, so you says.”

“You are on, Cory.  But make it 300, if you make me stay in there for the night!”

“You got it, Canter, if you stay the night, I'll make it 300 when you come out at dawn.”

Now he was creeping down one of the empty hallways of the long abandoned mansion of Crawfeather.  The darkness relieved only by the single candle held in Canter's magic.  Old furniture mostly covered by aged dust covers dotted the passage.  He shivered, and it was not from the cold.  He was wishing that he had not taken the dare to spend this Nightmare Night in the reputedly haunted Crawfeather mansion.  Still, 300 golden bits was 300 golden bits.

Canter remembered all too vividly the ghastly past of this place.  The land that the mansion was built on was originally owned by the Bordens, back in the very earliest days of Ponyville, before there was any sort of formal town.

After the Apple Clan had demonstrated the value of the land in the area for farming by creating one of the most productive apple orchards in Equestria, the land rush was on!  The Bordens had claimed a big area and invested all that they had into clearing the land.  It proved to be too stony for any sort of farm.  It wasn't just loose surface stone either.  Rough upthrust sedimentary rock made up most of it. Clyde's attempts to sell it to newcomers became a local joke.

Clyde Borden put the land up in a card game and lost it to Jason Crawfeather.  For weeks afterwards, Clyde crowed about how bad Jason was taken in by winning that worthless land.  Jason and his family quietly ignored him and set industriously to work.  It was not too long before the Crawfeather Quarry was supplying the good building stone for foundations and nicely split slates for stout, weatherproof roofs that the rapidly growing community of Ponyville needed.

The fortune earned by the Crawfeathers and the resentment of the Bordens stoked the flames of the feud that followed.  The orgy of murder was started by Poxy, one of Clyde's grown colts.  

Swinging an ax, he charged into the Crawfeathers and some guests, who were dining on their plaza!  By the time that it was over, Chance Crawfeather was carried up to his room, his life blood soaking the sheets and bolster of his bed as he died.

Sweetbriar Crawfeather, Jason's wife was laid out in the great room.  One of the guests was a doctor who managed to stanch her wounds and saved her life.  She would carry those scars to her grave.

Poxy was caught before he could escape.  Three strong unicorns from the quarry held him down while Jason brained him with his own ax.

Pretending serious remorse for the actions of her brother, Lisset Borden came to serve the remaining Crawfeathers as a maid.  She soon learned that all three of them, Jason, Sweetbriar, and their remaining filly, Sunblossom had a fondness for tomato soup.  She served the unsuspecting family a tasty soup of tomatoes, basil, and a strong portion of poison hemlock.

Sunblossom collapsed at the table.  In spite of the pangs from her own stomach, Sweetbriar assisted Sunblossom up to her room.  In her attempt to appear innocent, Lisset helped her too.

Jason, in spite of the agony in his own innards, called for help from the house staff.  It took them only moments to find the bottle that had contained the deadly concoction.  They captured Lisset as she was coming down the stairs.  Lisset was made to drink the soup that remained.  She was dead before the ghastly wails of Sweetbriar announced the passing of Sunblossom.

Both Jason and Sweetbriar were ill for weeks before they recovered from the effects of the hemlock.  In one regard Sweetbriar never recovered.  Seeing both of her foals murdered by ax and poison drove her into madness.

She was known to haunt the rooms where they died and sought them about the mansion and their play yard.  She even went down into the quarry seeking her “lost” foals.  Most watched her with pity.

Searching the play yard again, as the year was passing into autumn, Sweetbriar stumbled on something concealed from her sight by her madness.  The headstones of her missing foals, Chance and Sunblossom could no longer be denied.  She avidly read what was on each stone.  Instead of wailing her loss, her heart became harder than the stones of the Crawfeather Quarry.

On a late autumn night with no moon to betray her, Sweetbriar sneaked down into the developing town of Ponyville.  Unseen by any, she poured lamp oil over the front porch and back stoop of the Borden house and set it ablaze.  Cunningly, she did not stay to see how her plot played out but repaired back to Crawfeather, avoiding the many foals out in fanciful costumes.

Entering the house, she beheld the horrid sight of Clyde Borden hacking at the dead body of her beloved Jason with a double bit ax!  She seized the weapon from his grasp as he pulled back for another stroke!  With the power of her rage and madness, she took Clyde's head from his body in a single stroke!

She dropped the ax, which stuck upright in the floor boards.  In her struggles to drag the corpse of the assassin off of her husband's body, her feet slipped in the spilled gore and she lost her footing! She fell on the ax and the razor sharp blade cut her throat!

The house staff and their foals returned from their Nightmare Night, which had been made more exciting by the deadly house fire that had destroyed the Borden house and, apparently all the remaining Bordens!

The town's newly appointed constables had far more to deal with than the usual Nightmare Night pranks.  At least the feud would go no further. Neither Borden nor Crawfeather remained alive to carry it on.

Canter's reverie was broken by the creaking of hinges.  His ears straining to hear more failed to spot any further sound.  This was not the first such sound that he'd heard, either.  He had traced the first ones to open windows upstairs and drafts making old doors swing.

There was a creaking floorboard behind him!  Whirling about in startlement he saw . . . Cory!

“Just checking up on you, Canter.  Realized that you are missing out on Nightmare Night partying.  Brought you a little to make up for it. Here.  Got you something to drink in the bottle and a bunch of candies.”

“Nice of you, Cory.”

As Canter took the bag, the knife that Cory was hiding behind it plunged up, through the bottom of his jaw and into his brain through the weak area of skull on the underside!

Canter collapsed, dead before he hit the floor.

Cory's gloat of, “Looks like that money stays mine!  You ain't going to see the dawn . . .” was interrupted!

Screaming foals in Nightmare Night costumes ran from the old parlor and out into the night!  The last one bucked the doors shut!  The locking click of the latch was like a trump of doom!  Cory was panting frantically and pounding on the door when the old handle turned.  The opened door showed a brace of constables waiting to take him to jail.

Canter looked about, sort of puzzled.  Everything was sort of gray, in spite of which, he could see clearly.  There was a pony before him, also gone gray, and a good thing. He had several huge wounds.  At least he was not bleeding from them.  Canter could see furniture through him.

He invited, “Canter, right?  I am Jason.  Why don't you come with me and meet the rest of the family?”

~THE END~

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[talesofealdancynedom]

princess Odette Craweleoth; After going dark.

Tale 19: Meriam Craweleoth: Mage Queen of The Grand West (chapter 6 - The Future Holds 6/10) part 4. Stories of Old

Maps

none

Near the end of winter, Murdoc Monafyra arrived with his panther familiar Stearra. He wore black wolf kingdom robes, and seemed to be in a state of serenity. He stood before the royal family with words of warning. Meriam was happy to see him, for when they last met, he was but a boy aspiring to be a seer mage. And now he as a young man that looked so much like his father.

“What brings you to our halls Murdoc, son of Helrem?” Meriam asked.

“I come to tell you my father is an idiot. And brother Tiberius Blacstorm has returned to Pepperidge, in your kingdom, and built a gate. It has a large ominous black tower, made of marble from those mountains, and the new magic forest scares the merchants.” Murdoc said in a rough low voice. He was chewing his unlit pipe, and seemed to be combing his mind. “Ah, yes. I am also to tell you my father is dead, gave the instructions for wands to Tiberius, to distribute at the trading post. These commoners of magic houses who learn father’s way of magic call themselves ‘Wizards’, and hate us mages. Murderous intent in the lot of them; as you probably feared my lady. Saw some popping up here, with political opinions and such. Better have your guard up. They think we’re dangerous and wield uncontrollable power of peril; suggesting that because common folk can learn magic, civilization has no need for mages. As if we care about common parliament, and not all aspire to be but hermits befriending fey.” Murdoc went on. Meriam looked markedly unamused. In fact, the whole room read like a disappointed audience to an improv skit. Meriam gestured for Murdoc to go on; if he still standing there, he had more to say.

“As you are aware master Craweleoth, killing mages will not do anything. A certain percent of magic housed people will be mages; or talented wizards now, I guess.” He coughed. A mortifying fear strung through Meriam: Her assumptions were correct. Her nephew Eatheltwein, and her daughter, were confirmed mages. It’s was pure chance; and now people who irresponsibly use magic, intend to kill them.

Meriam, in the middle of the main hall, went dark, causing her daughter and nephew, who were innocently beside her, to go dark as well. The flow of magic can thin the veils, making a dark state contagious to those in magic houses. If everyone else hadn’t leapt back, they would have had the same fate. Murdoc would be gone by dawn, while everyone lay sick with blood loss and fever from magic ripping through their bones between veils.

           Meriam recovered quickly, as she had gone dark many times before. She could control it and knew her limits. But when people first experience the ether rush threw them, their bodies are less resistant to damage; The new sensation overwhelming them, as they do not yet know how to harness so much magic. Random spells can be cast around them, as they glow and cast until they are too weak to stand. Meriam, in all her experience, knew how to remedy the bleeding, fever, and weakness after such an ordeal. She took turns visiting her nephew and daughter, to make sure they recovered.

While Odette recovered, she asked to be laid in a large chair looking out her window. Her Bedroom balcony had a view of the courtyard fountain. She sat alone singing quietly. While Eatheltwein, struggled to regain strength, he lay unmoving in bed. Meriam went to bring him food, when she noticed the king was by his side.

“Good, you’re awake, Eathel-” Meriam said.

“Uncle wants to have me, and Odette, married.” Eathel interrupted. Meriam became furious. Her children were only now recovering and adjusting, were secretly mages with their lives threatened, and there was talk of betrothal. Meriam had been wed for politics against her autonomy, and no child of hers was going to be subjected to the same fate. Her happy union was but a fluke.

“Our children lay sick, and we fear for the world of magic, and you want to have weddings? Eatheltwein and Odette are not pawns, they are children! Furthermore, the only unwed royal I know is Edmond of the Far North, and he has seen twenty more autumns then our twelve-year-old daughter. A man of his status in these times would have at least three bastards.” Meriam snapped. Dropping the dishes.

“We have friends in three nations; we have only to send letters. Yet, I agree we should remove Edmond from the list…” the king said. “Maybe he’s still brooding, and already wed to his job.”

“I’m going to marry a noble lady form a far-off land.” Eathel mused in a quiet tiered voice. He stared into the ceiling longingly. “Bless I may wake in the dawn, to hear that she is from Daneia…” He continued.

“How much blood did he loose?” The king asked in bewilderment.

“Bold of you to assume he lost the blood.” Meriam scoffed. “All this talk about girls around a young man, could make him mad. Eathel may follow his heart, as mages fall easily in love, and love is the most powerful magic. Just the type of magic this world needs most. We will wait a little longer for our daughter; Any man interested in a girl her age should be castrated.”

“Mages? Do you mean to say that Eatheltwein is a mage? Is he in danger from those malicious emerging wizards Merry?”

“Yes.” Meriam said. “Helrem may be an idiot, but he made wands for commoners to love magic. However, mages can’t use wands; our magic is different. Though perhaps, if we give Eathel a wand that a mage can use, and the people will think he’s a saviour. A ‘talented wizard.’ if you will. Maybe one for Odette as well; I see her talk to, and charm, the fey. Only mages can charm.” Meriam said, taking a seat on the other side of Eatheltwein’s bed. The king was nearly in tears. His entire family was on the chopping block.

“Darling, there may be a solution: Tiberius may have one to lend, or at least Helrem’s notes on how to make one. I will go to his gate tomorrow.” Meriam said. Desperately trying to comfort her husband and herself. She didn’t want o leave her ill family so soon, but Murdoc’s words filled her with urgency and fear. Eatheltwein had fallen asleep, with the cold press sliding down his face, and holding his king uncle’s hand. Even in illness, he was still full of that sunshine that Meriam loved so much.

           Meriam fed Odette breakfast, well sharing her plan. She was to leave shortly, and did not want Odette to become spooked by Murdoc’s words. She deserved to know. Odette’s new platinum hair and icy eyes made her look like snow. It was a striking change of colours. Meriam enjoyed that Odette looked like she did in her youth; bronze-gold locks and olive eyes upon a freckled canvas. But now something seemed off about her little princess. Not just her appearance.

“I hope Tiberius can help.” Odette said. She gazed out the window. “I’m not scared of those wizards, mom; I’m scared dad wants to give me away to an unfit duke. I’m having fun, and we all love each other; I don’t want some boy ruining it.” She pouted.

“Well, I’ll be sure to stop that from happening. By the way Odette, why do you always look out the balcony? What in our courtyard makes you leave the windows open?” Meriam asked, kissing her girl’s forehead. She was still a bit warm with fever.

“There is a handsome nobleman who I like better, who listens to my song; he visits some days. Unlike me though, he can fly away from the restraints of a palace, and the control of others. I want to fly, sing, and see beyond this palace too. Like all the birds who talk in this city.” Odette mused. Meriam held her breath. She would pass through the shadow veil to Tiberius gate to get Eatheltwein a wand, and she would pass through the Raven Kingdom. Meriam was curious if the Raven King may have become infatuated with her daughter, and being a bad influence. But then again, if Odette happily found true love, and supported a kingdom of fey by becoming a Beast Queen, she would be safe from the wizards. As commoners, they cannot reach her, as a free bird in the shadow veil. Meriam hugged her daughter, then her nephew, then her husband goodbye before she left on her brief quest; They must all know she loves them. Less she never returns, or they are not there when she returns.

           In the shadow veil, Meriam walked into the raven kingdom. Black and white, but illuminated by the colours of various avian fey. Golden gryphons who napped on rocks, and opalescent thunderbirds playing in the clouds. Only here, was the singing of birds heard in the silence of the shadow veil. For only magic can stimulate the senses here. Deep in the raven kingdom woods, Meriam heard an off-tune crackling hum come from a twisted tall tree in a clearing. As she approached, it became apparent the tree was laced in magnificently lustrous trash. It was strategically hung to reflect light, like the facets of a lapidary’s finest work. Near the mid of the tree, Meriam saw the Raven King in human form, tying a string of sparkling garbage, to what appeared to be a giant nearly completed nest.

“Raven King? Have you been visiting my daughter?” Meriam asked calmly. She was not calm. “She’s a bit young; You wouldn’t mind waiting a little longer would you? To see if she requites your love, I mean.”

“Love never waits.” He cawed, before gestured to his work. “What do you think Meriam!?” The Raven King chirped before the dazzling tree. Meriam clapped for a brief applause, causing the Raven King to smile. She did think it looked smashing.

“She loves to fly, and speaks fondly of you. I suppose it is better then being married off like me. Commoners mean to kill mages, and it makes me fear for her safety. If you love her, make my baby happy, and safe.” Meriam said. Her voice cracked with sadness as she pushed down her wave of emotions, and thoughts. The Raven King swopped down, and hugged Meriam in the clearing, as if to convey that it would be his honour. And when Meriam began to sob, he let her cry. She wanted to stop time, but knew it would always need to resume. More time with her children, more time to prepare for change.

           Tiberius’s gate was impressive. Tiberius had become a talented warlock and artist. When Meriam arrived in the center of the gate, she was greeted by a toddler who started giving her random objects. Then Tiberius came, picked up the girl, and bowed.

“Hello your majesty! What can I do for you? Need a tour? Tell me to stay away from the commoners perhaps? Maybe a nicer sword then the one Helrem made for your husband? Which I see you wield instead…” Tiberius rambled. “This is my daughter Fyra, by the way. Her mom left, but we’re still here. Happy magic family in my peaceful mystical forest.”

“Helrem had a wand of twisted white and violet glass, that could be used by a mage. I need one like that. The commoners who are becoming wizards, from Helrem’s publications, are becoming murderous like scared trolls. I need one to convince people a specific mage, is actually a wizard; for political and magic peace of course.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know how to make one.” Tiberius said casually. Meriam grimaced. She was having a bad day. Actually, a lot of her days seemed to be non ideal recently. But she was too much of a coward to go back in time to fix things, because it could always get worse. Meriam looked into Tiberius’s hazel eyes with the glare of tiger about to pounce. Tiberius became pale.

“I have his notes! Yes, instructions!” Tiberius yelled. “I have quite the empty shelf space in the walls of this here tower. My inspiration for this gate was: ‘Wow’, with a touch of ‘why?’. But half way through, I realized the black marble made a much different statement; should’ve just alchemised the structure, instead of singing it into place.” Tiberius began to rant. Then he saw Meriam begin to slowly move forward with the same glare.

“Enough of that then! You can skip on home to the palace now, and I’ll make you a mage pen quick and proper miss; I’ll mail it straight to the palace! No payment, no questions, and no worries!” He winced.

“Thankyou.” Meriam eased back. “And in my opinion, I love our lands black marble; I love black. I don’t think you should care what statement your big black magic tower makes.” Meriam said, patting Tiberius and shoulder. He glowed with pride.

           A week later, in the palace, Eatheltwein’s wand arrived. It was made of brass, and engraved with a gryphon for house Cynedom. Eathel gave it a whirl, and spent the mourning doing magic with it. He almost lit the kitchen on fire, and flooded the laundry room. Meanwhile, Meriam sat in the courtyard, enjoying the crisp new spring. She was wearing her under garments, while fixing some old clothes to suit the times better. She kept a close watch over Odette, who sang at the fountain edge for the golden geese, who honked with applause. Odette didn’t emote much, which made her smiles all the more precious. The King on the other hand, was greeting Edmond in the dining hall. He came with a peace declaration, as an excuse to visit Anglia.  It felt warm to him. After politics was discussed, and cups tipped to peace, Edmond asked to see Eathletwein. The King gladly escorted Edmond to the courtyard to see Eathel casting water for the tulips, with sweetmeat and bread hanging out of his mouth. Edmond gave a hearty cheerful laugh, and went in to tightly embrace Eathel. Edmond seemed happy, and at peace. Meriam had left him a lonely man, and now he was a king who had retired from being a paladin mage. He was a whole new person.

“I look forward to our alliance. As next in line, I had to meet you Eatheltwein Cynedom. What tool is that you hold?”

“It’s a wand; invented by a mage of your kingdom, in the Far North. It’s to allow any who love magic to be one with it.” Eathel smiled. He had never met Edmond, or heard of the sins towards fey and men, this king had committed; he was happy to meet a new friend. His gleaming innocence made Edmond feel even warmer.

Eatheltwein patted a stone bench by the tulips, so they could sit. It felt good to take a good sturdy seat after a long journey; or just a few hours running around a yard. The king sat next to Meriam, his beloved wife, and also intently watched their precious heirs.

“When you become a king, what do you want for Anglia?” Edmond asked, taking in the crisp dewy noon. The joy water Etheltwein casted, made the tree children smell like a lush greenhouse.

“I want a time without war, and warm summers. I want my people to be more involved with what happens in my land. They have put forth a court of men for me, to speak on their behalf; their novel input has led to innovation and wealth for my people.” Edmond Explained.

“I want Anglia to be called the Grand West, and be friends with everyone; including Francia.” Eatheltwein chirped. He caught his familiar, Viola, in his hand, and kissed her. Edmond remembered he had a familiar once, a black grizzly, of who he missed. He was an adaptive, fierce and hearty beast. Edmond wondered what that said about him; If familiar reflect their master’s inner nature. In contrast, Eatheltwein’s golden canary was small and cheerful.

“Are you sad, Lord Edmond?” Eatheltwein asked.

“Sometimes.” Edmond said. “Hmm. Your plans for the future of ‘The Grand West’, sound lovely. I think we could all use a lot more friendship and love. The most powerful type of magic in our realm. Yet, I am curious; Why do you wish to change your kingdom’s name? There is no change to its size, nor government.”

“Because calling lands by their linguistic, and thus ethnic identities, separates them. Each land has different peoples, but every land has the same North, East, South and West. Like the table of fours. I don’t want us to see each other as strangers. I want us to be together.” Eathel said, petting Viola. Edmond admitted, that sounded nice, if not impossible. To have everyone to focus on each other as people instead of independent opposing nations; Including Francia. As spring approached, Francia would resume annexing foreign land at its boarders, to feed its starving people. Edmond could not imagine a world without conflict.

“That’s is a big plan. People are divided over land, and now we become divided over who can wield magic. This world will not have balance so easily.”

“I contest; I have read many of my aunt’s journals. They tell stories about people, even in the farthest lands, that deep down, realize the comfort of a good friend. Between fey, men, or nations; the dust will settle if we are kind.” Eathletwein said. He was watching Odette try to jump and fly after the geese. It gave everyone a laugh. Her light blue dress that was embroidered with wings, and her ethereal paleness made her almost like a swan. Everything in that moment, though providing light, felt a little like a lie. Beyond the courtyard, there was poverty, starvation, unpunished war crimes, and now wizards killing innocent mages and fey.

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[jennifersylvesters]

Can I please have a 68 and 71 with Peter Parker 🤗😁

i cannot believe you really asked for those two prompts with those smiling emojis knowing full well this was going to probably be angsty. you wild, anonny. i’m sorry that i can’t write action sequences to save my life, so please forgive me for that. per the usual, bullets points and blurbs. also this is gonna be a superhero!reader x peter parker

68. Heroic Sacrifice / 71. Twenty-Four Hours to Live  

You never expected to get scouted to potentially become a part of the Avengers. It wasn’t like you were aware that Maria Hill kept tabs on you, watching to see your progress. So when Nick and Maria “stopped by your place” as they so nicely put it (not at all breaking in and entering), you were a little wary at first. Because truth be told, you didn’t trust the Avengers. 

You had seen the destruction that they caused in the past. You were young when the Avengers first teamed up; Captain America actually saved you, causing you to forever be in awe of the man. But you heard how friends’ parents would discuss how the Avengers needed to be put in check with how much damage they created. You saw how they worried about superheroes rather than embraced them. Which is why you tried keeping your powers to yourself when you realized you had them. 

Personally you didn’t think anyone would find out. Occasionally you’d save a person or two, but it wasn’t as if you did it frequently. Keeping your powers in check was hard to do, especially when there wasn’t anyone around to help you out. 

When Nick offered the chance for them to help guide you, your interest was piqued. It was the only reason that you were interested in becoming a recruit. If there was a possibility of controlling the powers, you wanted it so badly. But neither of them seemed trustworthy to you. How could you believe in the stern woman and the stone faced man?

And that’s when you met Spider-Man. He came a couple days later after your meeting with SHIELD, swinging by your place and accidentally terrifying you. In fact, you almost punched him in the face if it hadn’t been for his Spidey senses. He told you how Nick had sent him down to talk with you. At first, you were cautious of the hero. But he was good at calming you, making you feel comfortable around his presence. 

“It’s hard doing this thing by yourself. I should know” he mumbled to himself. You asked him about it, and he told you how he just knew he needed to help out others when he discovered his powers. It was a similar feeling towards your own, wanting to protect those around you who didn’t deserve to be attacked. 

And when he encouraged you to join, you couldn’t help but say yes. If someone as caring as him was around, you were willing to trust this organization. 

A couple months later, you were surprised to find a home within the group. Everyone was so kind to you, understanding the struggles of not feeling in control. You formed a bond with Wanda, her calming you down when you felt like you might lose control. She knew what you were going through, refusing to let you deal with it alone. But it was Spider-Man who could always help you keep your powers in check. 

It was shocking to say the least when you found out that Spider-Man was actually a native from Queens named Peter Parker. You had just been walking by his room in the compound when he yanked off his mask. You backpedaled, jaw dropping to see a cute brown haired boy shaking out his curls. His face paled when he caught you staring. “So, um, yeah. Hi?” he said nervously. 

from that moment on, you became close with peter. you hadn’t realized that he actually lived in nyc like you did, which was nice knowing your good friend was nearby

so the two of you actually end up hanging out with one another not as teammates but as friends. and you like hanging out with peter parker more than you can even explain

because peter parker goes onto science tangents and then gets embarrassed when he realizes he’s been rambling. and he apologizes, but you always remind him he doesn’t need to apologize for that. but he always does anyways

he loves talking about his aunt may and his friends. and he talks about them with such excitement that you can’t help but be stoked when he introduces you to them

but you appreciate that he makes you feel special. he whispers about how it’s so cool that the two of you guys are real avengers “we’re not avengers yet, pete” he doesn’t belittle you or make you feel like you’re not as good as the rest of them. he encourages you, helping you figure out things logistically when you feel your temperature rising

sometimes you let yourself more invested in peter parker rather than spider-man. because peter parker feels tangible, someone you can actually relax around without having to think about your powers or the villains in your life

except that’s the thing - there are always going to be villains causing chaos and both of you need to be there to stop it. relationships will just make things harder. 

so the sinister six have teamed up together to try and destroy nyc. it’s a “what else is new?” scenario, except you weren’t expecting that many bad guys. 

they keep upping up the chaos, forcing everyone on the team to secure different locations and take down each individual villain

but things take a turn for the worse when mysterio announces that they released a toxic gas into the hospital, killing everyone in the next 24 hours if the sinister six’s demands aren’t met

none of you can figure out who has the antidote and what’s more, there’s not enough time to figure it out with all the boroughs getting destroyed

by the time you guys figure out that doc oc has the serum, you’ve only got an hour left

since you and spider-man are closest to where they expect doc oc to be, the two of you team up to take him down in an abandoned building that the sinister six have set up as their base camp. except he’s got newer technology, and it’s more difficult than you expected. it takes both of you to knock him out, but not before he manages to catch spider-man - blasting him with tranq darts in order to electrocute and paralyze him. his web shooters are on the fritz unable to web him out of there

at this point you see where he’s hidden the serum, hidden away in a small compact bag. and once he knows that you’re aware, the fight is on. with spider-man unable to fight, it’s up to you to keep your powers in control as you fight the villain

by the time you manage to knock doc oc out, the building’s in complete shatters. somehow you’ve set off explosions, fire consuming the building. the bag holding the antidote has been cast to the side on one of the high beams, threatening to fall as the structure collapses

but spider-man isn’t free from the net. even when you manage to get it off him, he’s still pretty weak from the poison in his system. as the both of you are rushing to grab the bag and go, he slips. you turn back and quickly grab hold of him, but his body’s heavy as he dangles over the edge and fire

“Hold on!” you urge, trying your best to keep a tight grip on his hand. You refuse to acknowledge how you can feel the grip getting weaker, the possibility of him slipping out of your hands. 

“Y/N, you have to let go.” His voice trembles, knowing this is for the best. If you want to save the citizens, you have to let him go and bring the serum to the hospital. You’re wasting precious time, something you don’t have enough of. 

“I’m not letting go, Peter!” You can’t call out his alter ego knowing that this isn’t Spider-Man’s life in your hands; it’s Peter’s. And Peter’s life means so much more to you than he’ll ever realize. 

“You have to.” How he sounds so sure of himself is beyond you. What’s worse is how you can see the look in his eyes; Peter doesn’t want to go. He has so much to live for, so much to accomplish. He’s the hero of New York, but he’s so much more than that. He’s a symbol of hope to those who need it. 

And you don’t want him to go. Because there’s so many things you still need to tell Peter. This isn’t the right time to reveal your feelings, not when his life hangs in the balance of your hands.

“Backup will be here soon! Peter, please hold on. Please don’t let go. Please!” you plead, tears forming in your eyes. You do your best to blink them away, but it just blurs your vision.

“I love you, Y/N.” These are the words you’ve long to hear, but you didn’t want to hear it in this context. He pulls his hand free, free falling as he takes one last glance at you. 

You scream out, desperate for him to come back. The tears pour out as you continue to yell out his name, wanting to follow after him. 

But you know this isn’t what he wanted. If you do that, you’re only ruining all the effort that he’s done to protect the city and you. Your body feels heavy as you rush over to grab the serum and take off. By the time you stumble to the hospital, you quickly hand the vials over to Bruce so he can start work on distributing the antidote. 

They ask you about Spider-Man, and you just shake your head. You can’t look any of them in the eye. Because how do you tell them that a part of you died just like that? You feel nauseous, replaying the moment over in your head. You keep asking yourself what you could’ve done to save him, why you didn’t take out Doc Oc first? Wanda can see that look in your face, and she takes you away from the rest of them. 

“Are you alright?” Are you? Tears build up again and you finally look up at Wanda’s concerned face. 

You saved the day, didn’t you? You kept your powers in check? And while you’re so glad you saved so many, you can’t help but weep that you couldn’t save the one person you treasured most. 

[dangerously-human]

Facebook memories just brought me back to a particularly wild time in my teenage life, so naturally, I have to share my horribly embarrassing past with you all. Everybody buckled in? Here we go:

There was this boy I had a brief but crazy intense crush on in 11th grade. He was a grade or two below me, and super hot - bi, and at least half the school, boys and girls, had a crush on him. I feel that it is worth mentioning, to add to the Drama, that this boy cosplayed as Roxas from Kingdom Hearts, to varying levels of intensity, every day. (Boys with Cool Hair remain my weakness.) He was quite the bad boy, too - I'm not sure exactly what he got in so much trouble for all the time, but I spent study halls a couple days a week distributing passes for the office, and I always rushed to get there first so I could be the one to deliver his detention slips. I know, scandalous, right?

I was completely heart eyes over him. Like, completely, 100% utterly smitten. I can remember actually rolling around on the floor blushing and squealing and wallowing in my crush angst as my sister sighed and basically banged her head against the wall, barely managing to put up with my nonsense. She helpfully pointed out that since I passed this boy's group hangout spot every afternoon on my way to Spanish class, it really shouldn't be that hard to strike up a conversation, right? "I CAAAAAAN'T," I wailed, Very Dramatically. "Oh, but you can," she insisted. She set a deadline for me to talk to the boy, which passed with nothing but more lovelorn shenanigans from me.

I can no longer remember what tactics she used to try to guilt me into it, but somehow, I did actually end up talking to him at some point. We in fact became casual friends, mostly because he got really passionate about Christianity for a time, and I think he joined in on my mission to get a prayer team started up or something. I'm not really sure at what point the crush fizzled out, but it was just so many weeks of Unnecessarily Dramatic Tension!

He also followed my Tumblr at one point in time, so Roxas Boy, if for some ridiculous reason you see me telling this story almost a decade later, I hope you laugh as hard as I am telling it!

[noramoya]

PART ONE :

OF LINDA-RAVEN WOODS’S

02/28/2019 ARTICLE .

“America has a long and sordid history of lynching or unfairly convicting African-American men based on the false allegations of white accusers. The names known to history echo loud and long — Robin White, Emmett Till, Charlie Weems, Ozie Powell, Clarence Norris, Andrew and Leroy Wright, Olen Montgomery, Willie Anderson, Haywood Patterson, Eugene Williams (the latter nine known collectively as “The Scottsboro Boys”) to contemporary names such as Vincent Patton, still serving time in Angola Prison despite the fact that his white accuser later confessed that “all black men look alike” to her and therefore she could not even say with certainty that Patton had raped her.

And these cases do not even begin to include the many whose names have long been lost to history; those who paid the ultimate price for the paranoid fears of a Jim Crow-era America. “We currently live in a world of fake news and alternative facts,” wrote Martinzie Johnson in an excellent think piece titled “Being Black in a World Where White Lies Matter.” Martinzie then states, “white lies have tangible consequences.”

Martinizie wrote this piece a few days after a bombshell confession by Carolyn Bryant, the young white woman whose accusation of Emmett Till fifty-two years prior resulted in the 14-year-old boy being kidnapped from his uncle’s home and murdered by her husband and brother-in-law. It took half a century for Bryant to finally admit to biographer Timothy B. Tyson that“nothing that boy did justified what was done to him.”

The current hype that has been built around Leaving Neverland, a film directed by Dan Reed and funded and distributed by HBO in the U.S. and Channel 4 in the U.K., may appear deceptively at first as an important film for the #MeToo era, highlighting the alleged sexual abuse that Michael Jackson inflicted on two young boys who idolized him and fell-by grand and parental design-into his circle. At least, that is according to the hype that has been drummed up around it.

But a closer look reveals many disturbing reasons to argue that this agenda-driven film has little to do with either journalistic integrity or concern for sexual abuse victims. Instead, there are many justifiable reasons to argue why this film is simply a new twist on the age-old concept of lynching a black man based on white lies. The fact that it is a black man who also just happened to be one of the most beloved and powerful figures in entertainment is, of course, the very matter at the heart of the film’s controversy, along with the fact that we are into the tenth anniversary of his passing.

At a time when Michael Jackson’s life should be the subject of fond remembrances and reflections on his artistic legacy, we instead get this, the equivalent of a posthumous, 21st century lynching based on nothing but the uncorroborated testimonies of two men whose civil case against his estate has already been dismissed, not once but twice.

Why is the “woke” crowd so determinedly asleep at the wheel on this? And an even more troubling question: Why are so many of the most influential journalists in the U.S. and U.K. enabling it? Dan Reed’s controversial film has indeed accomplished one positive goal even before its scheduled broadcast, although it may not be the goal he intended.

For sure, the film has helped shed much needed light on the underbelly of #MeToo, revealing some startlingly dark truths about who the movement is designed to protect-and who it is willing to sacrifice.

But first, let’s back up and look at the key players in this drama. We have Michael Jackson, whose story has already passed into the realm of an American mythical figure, a poor black kid who worked his way up from nothing to become one of the most legendary musical figures of all time. This was a man who worked non-stop from the age of five to build his legacy. In the 45 years of his life that he gave to the public, he managed to break records, to achieve what few black artists before him had done (including owning, at one time, half the Sony-ATV catalogue), and to build a legacy that is intricately woven into the fabric of U.S. pop culture. But beyond that, he became a world icon in a way that only a very few American artists have achieved.

This is all a long way of saying Michael Jackson worked hard — damn hard — — to build what he achieved. And before we start trying to dismantle that legacy based on nothing but the words of two white men who joined his long list of hangers-on, we’d better be looking long and hard at the facts. That is, if we want to be able to live with ourselves in the aftermath.

But herein lies at least some of the problem. Most who have already followed the story to any degree are already at least superficially aware that there are inherent issues with the claims of Wade Robson and James Safechuck, the two subjects of this documentary. It is widely known, for instance, that Wade Robson-as a 23-year-old adult- testified in Jackson’s defense at his 2005 trial, swearing under oath and penalty of perjury that nothing sexual ever happened between them. But the inconsistencies, as well as problematic and ever changing timelines in their stories, goes much deeper.

On February 7 2019, the estate of Michael Jackson sent a strongly worded letter to HBO CEO Richard Plepler, followed by another a couple of days later to Channel 4 CEO Alex Mahon. The letter to HBO outlined, in painstaking 10-page detail, the long, problematic history of Robson’s and Safechuck’s claims (coming from attorneys who have spent the better part of the last six years battling these very allegations in court), while the letter to Channel 4 specified that the program is in direct violation of the channel’s guidelines for ethical journalism, citing a clause which states that any program making “significant allegations” must allow “those concerned” to be “given an appropriate and timely opportunity to respond.” Both letters were explicitly detailed, powerful complaints against the two accusers, highlighting the many various flaws and inaccuracies with their stories. Collectively, they revealed a dark history of two opportunists who took advantage of Jackson’s generosity and friendship.

Interestingly, what Dan Reed chose to leave out of his film is as interesting as what he chose to leave in. While I have not seen the film, I know sources who have, and who have been able to describe to me in detail what it represents. It is, quite frankly, a one-sided film in which only two voices are heard-that of Robson and Safechuck.

Now, let’s make an analogy. Suppose you had to decide a court case based only on hearing the prosecution’s case presented? Suppose there is no defense, no cross examination, no presentation of exculpatory evidence, no opening statement and no closing argument? You would no doubt find the story as presented only through the voice of the prosecution and their witnesses quite compelling. It is only under cross examination that those stories often start to crumble, raising what we might call reasonable doubt. And it is only through exculpatory evidence that we can actually weigh an accused person’s guilt, or lack thereof.

Leaving Neverland is essentially the equivalent of sitting through a four-hour testimony of two prosecution witnesses offering their sales pitches, without benefit of cross examination.

Entertaining? Possibly, if you consider four hours’ worth of extremely graphic descriptions of sexual acts against children entertaining. Truthful? Hard to say, except we know the track record of the accusers. Fair or ethical? Absolutely not, especially given that the accused subject of the film is deceased.

Which brings us back to Channel 4’s weak defense when confronted by the estate. Their claim is that the film contains denials Jackson made in his own lifetime. However, these would have been denials Jackson raised against the accusations made against him in 1993 and 2005. He did not have the opportunity to “deny” the accusations made by Robson and Safechuck, who waited four and five years after his death, respectively, to bring them.

As for HBO, their only response-after having it outlined for them in 10 excruciatingly detailed pages exactly everything that was wrong with the stories these two men are claiming- was that it was “powerful.” In other words, what they were actually confessing is that ratings matter more than truth, fairness, or accuracy.

This truly begs the question: Would HBO have been so quick to fund and support this project had its subject been any celebrity other than Michael Jackson? Moreover, would the immediate condemnation of the media have been as swift to rush to judgment without at least raising a question mark or a demand for vetting of the film’s accuracy? My guess is that the answer would be no.

Of course, if we raise that question, it would also be fair to acknowledge that Jackson’s legacy is one that many feel is already tainted by doubt. After all, he was accused by the parents of Jordan Chandler in 1993, and ten years later, the Arvizo allegations resulted in a grueling 5- month trial which ended in his acquittal on 14 counts. It would be understandable to have doubts and questions, as I did back in 2009 when I first began researching the allegations made against Jackson.

For many, those lingering questions remained even after Jackson’s death. At the time, public sentiment largely fell into three camps: Those who always believed, unequivocally, in his innocence; those who said, “Whatever may have happened, it’s past; let him RIP” and then those few who continued, with dogged determination, to unearth his corpse and prop it up for re-trial in the court of public opinion. It may go without saying that those who are standing behind and supporting this project fall into the latter category. But unless we accept the naïve explanation that this project is all about “justice for victims”, there are bigger questions that need to be addressed: WHO IS REALLY BEHIND THIS ?! ALSO, WHY NOW ?! AND WHAT ARE THEY REALLY HOPING TO GAIN FROM IT ?!

It is astonishing beyond belief that no one in the mainstream media — not one serious investigative journalist — seems willing to raise these questions !

What many fail to realize is that Jackson became a target for a racist driven agenda. What appears, deceptively, as a case of “smoke and fire” was actually a long and quite convoluted history of “smoke and mirrors.” The first accusation grew out of a personal dispute between Jackson and the first boy’s father, Evan Chandler, when Jackson refused to finance Chandler’s trilogy of film projects.

Although Jackson eventually settled that case out of court, the civil settlement did not preclude a criminal trial. Rather, two Grand Jury hearings failed to bring an indictment. However, because Jackson did settle the case, opening the door for financial gain to be made at his expense, a cottage industry of accusing Michael Jackson was thus born.

Every accusation made since then, including those of Robson and Safechuck, has come down to an issue of money. It is, after all, easy to make up a convincing story, and in the case of Michael Jackson, all they had to do is study the details and patterns of previous stories. A little known fact is that Janet Arvizo consulted the same attorney who had represented the Chandlers (a pattern that has continued, with both Robson and Safechuck represented by the law firm Manly, Stewart & Finaldi ).

Many of these shadesters were convinced that the best case scenario was that they might hit a financial windfall on a par with the Chandlers. But at the very least, even when they knew their bogus stories would never hold up in a court of law, they could always count on the tabloids, some of whom were known to shell out as much as six figures for any potential dirt on Michael Jackson.

The 2005 case against Jackson was, in reality, an absolute travesty of justice that should never have gone to trial, another case of a family that took advantage of his generosity and then tried to “get back” when the friendship soured. However, if there was at least one positive aspect that came from it, it was the fact that this also served as the trial by jury that Jackson did not receive back in 1993. Tom Sneddon, in his gloating determination to “get” Jackson at all costs, actually reversed then current California laws against bringing in prior allegations. This meant that questions, evidence and witnesses from the 1993 case could also be introduced.

Jackson, in essence, was not only exonerated from the claims that the Arvizo family made against him, but those of the Chandlers as well. It seemed in theory, at least, that he had finally gotten the chance to fight those accusations in court just as he had initially wanted to do, back in ’93.

Dan Reed’s film only scratches the surface of the Chandler and Arvizo allegations, which may be understandable from a narrative standpoint if his focus is on the stories of the Robson and Safechuck families, but seems nevertheless a puzzling omission for a film whose entire context comes out of these two past sets of allegations.

What is more damning, however, is the fact that his film also only scratches the surface of the two more current claims that it is purporting to be about. The film presents only the subjects themselves telling their alleged side and their alleged stories of abuse, while purposely choosing to omit any counter narratives or rebuttal testimonies. In the Q&A that followed the film’s premier at Sundance, Dan Reed appeared to dodge this very specific question when asked.

https://youtu.be/BMcte6orvQc

Given the very serious nature of the allegations being waged in this film, to purposely omit any kind of rebuttal testimony (especially on behalf of a deceased individual) is beyond unethical.

While Dan Reed, HBO, and Channel 4 have continued to hide behind the mantra of the oft-repeated “let the viewer make up their mind” the film itself offers no such opportunity.

Furthermore, the film seems to purposely omit details that would obviously raise questions in the viewer’s minds regarding Robson’s motives. For example, why did Robson continue to defend Jackson and to speak glowingly of his friendship with him right up until 2013, when he was denied the chance to direct the Michael Jackson Cirque du Soleil show?

* answer to these questions on

PART TWO !

[lightsandlostbells]

Skam season 3, episode 5 reaction (1/2)

I don’t tend to think of Skam in episodes so much as clips, but this is easily one of the strongest overall episodes of the series, and it feels like a turning point in the season in terms of complexity. Watching it in real time was an emotional roller coaster. We also have the script for this episode with some of Julie’s comments so we can compare the two. I split this reaction into two parts because of the length, sorry if that’s annoying. It’s one of the longer episodes of the season. Second half will be up in a day or so.

SEASON THREE, EPISODE 5 - “At the same time in a completely different place”

Clip 1 - The softest scene you will see in your entire life

Lordag 15:15 for anyone keeping track 

I mentioned in my episode 4 recap that the pool scene was the first scene I got to see in real time. After that first kiss, I was dying to know what came next for Isak and Even. I thought it was likely that we’d get more relationship rockiness, because that’s usually what happens in TV shows, right? Isak was going to freak out, Even might run back to his girlfriend, and maybe they’d pretend it didn’t happen and it would get all awkward between them. Because that’s what I expect from most TV shows, more dramaaaa.

Instead, I slept in the day after the pool scene, woke up, immediately checked the Skam website to watch the pool scene again, and instead saw that there was a new clip. This clip, which is one of the most iconic moments in all of Skam, and which should be prescribed by doctors as a means of lowering blood pressure.

I mean this is the image that greeted me when I opened the Skam website that day. Julie Andem did a detox on my soul with this scene.

This scene is so special. It’s different thinking about it now because Skam went on to bless us with tons of Evak physical affection, but at the time I was stunned, because gay couples in media rarely get these types of blatantly romantic, lovey-dovey scenes. I’m pretty sure this clip is a huge part of why Skam suddenly took off internationally, because people saw gifs of this scene and had a similar reaction to all the cuddling. What the hell is that? I need to check it out. 

Frankly, I’d say romantic couples in media, regardless of orientation, rarely get these types of introspective, slow-paced scenes where the characters can just breathe and be together as long as Isak and Even do here. Typically if a TV show gives us a scene resembling this one, there’s some other reason it’s there; the scene is there to facilitate the plot, or usher in some drama, or carry some exposition. But rarely do we see couples just lying together and talking in this intimate way, with room for pauses, room for silence, room for the characters to just touch and look at each other. And we sure as hell don’t get them between LGBT pairings that often.

We saw long cuddle scenes with Noora and William last season, and a few with Jonas and Eva in S1, and I’m so glad that Julie didn’t have any reservations about showing Isak and Even in similar positions. Think of other shows you’ve seen with canon gay ships. A lot of them contain noticeable double standards as to the level of physical intimacy and affection the gay ships show versus the canon het ships. Sometimes the het couples can get full-on sex scenes while the gay couples can barely kiss. Granted, much of that discrepancy probably comes from people at the top, and showrunners may have to fight just to include gay characters in the first place if the network executives are cowards, let alone show them being affectionate. So I’m aware that Skam is in a unique position to depict these types of scenes between two boys. The format and distribution of the show also allows for the creative freedom to have these long quiet scenes without needing to account for commercial breaks or time restrictions or anything like that. But damn, this simple scene ends up feeling downright revolutionary because of how it commits to show these two boys falling in love with each other, without compromise.

The song choice of “I’m Not in Love” is perfect. I know some people took it literally (thinking that one or both of the boys were not in love and this wasn’t a very deep relationship, or it was evidence that Even was just messing around with Isak for fun rather than real feelings) (yes, I remember reading this) but the whole premise behind “I’m Not in Love” is that the speaker is in love, and all of the protestations he’s not in love are flimsy as hell. Oh, I call you and come to see you but don’t read too much into it. Oh, I have your picture on my wall but it’s just because it covers up a stain. NBD.

Here’s an explanation of the story behind the song from Wikipedia:

(Eric) Stewart came up with the idea for the song after his wife, to whom he had been married for eight years at that point, asked him why he didn't say "I love you" more often to her. Stewart said, "I had this crazy idea in my mind that repeating those words would somehow degrade the meaning, so I told her, 'Well, if I say every day "I love you, darling, I love you, blah, blah, blah", it's not gonna mean anything eventually'. That statement led me to try to figure out another way of saying it, and the result was that I chose to say 'I'm not in love with you', while subtly giving all the reasons throughout the song why I could never let go of this relationship."

Stewart’s description is a perfect fit for Skam’s depiction of Isak and Even’s relationship. I can name a ton of TV shows where the characters rush into saying “I love you” and throw it around in every scene even though the sentiment feels unearned. The words are just hollow and used as a shorthand for writers to say the characters feel deeply for each other, without coming up with creative, emotionally resonant ways to show these feelings of love. Skam is actually pretty restrained on having Isak and Even make a lot of dramatic statements of their feelings to each other. Instead of going for overwritten or showy speeches, Julie writes shorter lines that leave more to subtext and fit the context of the situation and characters better. There’s never a conventional “I love you” scene between Isak and Even and yet I didn’t need it because their actions constantly showed how much they loved each other.

And the lyrics can reflect Isak’s attitude at this point. He has feelings for Even but is still in the closet, still dealing with internalized homophobia. There’s still uncertainty around this relationship and where it’s headed. You can take “I’m Not in Love” as a layer of protection, downplaying this relationship to others and maybe to himself, but of course any protests from Isak are going to be as weak as the singer’s. Dude. We can see the way you’re looking at each other. 

Onto this montage of smoking, kissing, and cuddling. Dreamy sigh. Isn’t this how everyone wants to imagine being in love? Comfort and safety mixed with passion and affection. This is the exploratory period, where you’re with a new person, and you can see Isak and Even testing out new kisses, new cuddles, new affectionate gestures. They’re enamored with each other and there’s still so much more to learn about each other.

Even’s smile when Isak initiates the nose rub = murder me. I still think Isak did it to make the gesture theirs after seeing Even do it to Sonja at the neon pre-drink. Thinking about it from a directing standpoint, I am dying to know if Julie was giving the actors instructions on things to try or if they were told to improv and Tarjei did the nose rub and caught Henrik by surprise, basically how this little detail came to be. Because it’s not in the script and yet it became such an iconic Evak gesture, it was incorporated throughout their scenes as a way they not only express affection but show comfort and solidarity with each other. It is theirs. 

Evak having certain gestures they come back to, such as the nose rub, makes this relationship seem more real and textured. Their relationship is very specific, with its own history and inside jokes and consistencies throughout the series, and it’s one reason why it’s stuck with me so long.

The timeline is pretty ambiguous in this montage. We know that they obviously spent Saturday together, but this montage doesn’t designate a clear linear path, it jumps between their different positions and activities - smoking, laughing, making out, looking into each other’s eyes. There are also parts in some of the editing where we have Even or Isak talking but their mouths aren’t moving, giving this scene a dreamy feel. It’s almost like they’re outside of time, in their little bubble. “Can I stay in here with you forever?” seems like a real possibility.

In part of the opening montage you can see the same kiss from the end of the clip, which could just be Julie reusing footage for whatever reason, but I like it because it’s almost like a loop between the start and end of the clip. Time is irrelevant in their bubble. Everything that’s going to happen, will happen, and it’s happening now.

Tarjei and Henrik deserve so much praise for their acting in this scene. Not just because there’s no skittishness or #nohomo bullshit that you sometimes see from actors playing gay couples, but because they sell the utter adoration between their characters better than a lot of A-listers, honestly. The looks on their faces … wow. So much fond! So much love!

Henrik does a lot of fantastic physical acting throughout this scene, because Even never lets up touching Isak - tracing or rubbing his back, stroking his face. Expressing his feelings through touch. Can you imagine how much Isak is soaking all of this up?

Speaking of Isak, this is by far the softest, gentlest, and happiest we have seen Isak in this season so far, and the whole series to this point. He’s like a completely different person in this scene. Tarjei really lets down Isak’s walls.

Even is wearing the traveling Jesus shirt which is appropriate after a scene where he just played God. You can imagine Isak throwing it to him for that reason. Not because of complex Biblical symbolism and rebirth metaphors, more to be a little shit. Hey God, I found a shirt with your son on it!

I love how Even looks super charmed by Isak blowing smoke in his face.

By the way, I know I’ve said this before somewhere, but this scene always makes me think of a commercial for fabric softener, with that nice soapy clean clothes smell. In reality, though, Isak’s bedroom would have smelled like weed, boy farts, unwashed sheets, and possibly chlorine from the pool.

Eternal mysteries: What is the Nicolas Cage movie where he doesn’t overact??? Nicolas Cage has made some respectable movies, it’s not all The Wicker Man and the Kirk Cameron-less Left Behind, but I don’t know if he’s ever been subtle. What’s a movie that Isak would have seen and Even wouldn’t? Unless they have differing opinions on overacting. This is going to bug me for eternity. (On a non-Skam note: I fell into a Wikipedia hole and while I knew Nicolas Cage was related to the Coppolas, I didn’t know he was a cousin of Jason Schwartzman?)

On a similar note, this doesn’t bother me too much since I’m too enchanted with their acting and the writing, but yeah, that one strand of hair just chillin’ under Tarjei’s chin in this scene… once you see it, you can’t un-notice it. (There’s also the mic that’s visible in the opening montage.)

This scene has no pressing plot, no obvious “point” in terms of communicating exposition or advancing the storyline, but it turns out to be vitally important as a whole bunch of motifs and themes are established, we get insight into both characters, and there’s a ton of foreshadowing.

“I actually think life is like a movie. That you can be the director of your own life.” As we know, Even has a cinematic mind and sometimes takes his advice very literally, aka staging underwater kisses in random people’s houses. But it’s interesting that Even feels this way since bipolar disorder would seem to be something that makes him feel less in control. I feel like he tries to live this way deliberately as a way to handle his mental illness. 

Isak being impressed by infinity, thinking about the fact of being insignificant compared to all the universes out there, though - that’s kind of surprising! Even wants to maintain some control over his life, perhaps due to having this mental illness that makes him feel out of control, but Isak just thinks out there, everything is happening to him, and he’s OK with that. He’s more fascinated by the idea and not like ... struck down with existential dread. 

What’s lovely is that when Isak disagrees with Even’s point, Even is eager to hear what Isak says. They both look happy to be having debates like this. They can disagree on certain topics but it’s OK because they love to hear the other’s POV. This is such a great foundation for a relationship, that they’re not all about physical attraction and desire, but they genuinely enjoy having conversations with each other about big topics.

Have we heard Isak talk at all about Big Ideas like this, with anyone else? I can certainly believe he’s had conversations like this with Jonas, but there’s something really intimate about putting aside all the mundane topics of daily conversation and diving into the bigger, more abstract discussions, things that really reveal a lot about who you are as a person and how you process the world.

And I mean, yes, I know that they’re both stoned right now and that’s helping Isak to open up. Still!

Oh my God, do I love, LOVE, the shot of Even and Isak lying overhead as Isak says, “There’s probably a parallel universe where an Isak and an Even are lying like this…” Because that’s exactly what it is in that moment! A parallel universe! Well, maybe. You can also interpret it as a non-linear moment, since we have Isak’s voiceover (where he was clearly just talking on screen) over a shot where Isak’s mouth clearly is not moving, to a cut back to Isak talking. But I also like the idea that this shot of Isak and Even lying silently together, Even tracing Isak’s back, is from one of those parallel universes that Isak is referring to, and that’s what the AU Isak and Even are doing right at that moment.

Also, nice editing from Julie, because Even moves his head to look directly at Isak as a way to link the two shots and it’s happening in both universes, Isak talking and Isak not talking.

Plus apart from the time/parallel universe stuff, it’s honestly just a beautiful shot, where both Isak and Even are deep in contemplation, and you can imagine all that is on their minds, but they’re not voicing it at this time. Just Even rubbing Isak’s back. Just them lying together.

Both Isak and Even memorized this entire conversation, because it was that important to them, and ended up storing a whole bunch of its references in the Evak museum. Parallel universes, yellow curtains, the boy who couldn’t hold his breath underwater...

Uhhh, that soft little noise Even makes after talking about the yellow curtains? End me.

Even is pretty vulnerable during this part of the conversation, giving his thoughts on parallel universes. I guess this is heading into personal territory, but this is the scene where I first started to think Even might have depression, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the same for a lot of other viewers. Not just the bit where Even says the only way to escape your thoughts is by dying, though Even saying that was a huge red flag and made me think Even was suicidal, or had attempted suicide in the past. But also when he mentions how thinking about all the different universes feels lonely. And that might be a reach because surely non-depressed people can feel similarly overwhelmed by the idea of being small and insignificant in an infinite number of universes, but it just pinged me (as someone with depression) as immediately recognizable. I can’t even put it into words, it just resonated in an unsettling way. Being alone, with just you and your thoughts, is terrifying when you have depression, because your mind starts to come up with some scary things.

I think that also accounts for why Isak might not understand why Even is freaked out by the idea. While Isak’s mental health has suffered as a result of his family life and his internalized homophobia - the insomnia is a noticeable effect, for one - I don’t think he’s been suicidal, and I don’t think, even with all his stress and inner struggles, that he realizes how bad one’s thoughts can get.

The only time the camera strays from Isak and Even in bed, during this entire scene of almost seven minutes, is when Eskild knocks and talks to Isak through the door. Because that’s an interruption of the bubble. Eskild is the outside world at this point, Eskild is the reminder that people do exist beside Isak and Even. Bless Eskild, but he’s an intruder here. His sudden presence also causes Isak to come up with a lie, saying that Even’s shoes are Jonas’ shoes, reverting to his habit of lying because he’s not ready to state the truth.

By the way, if you were watching in real time and were in the fandom at the time, you’ll remember that there was a theory that actually it was Jonas talking to Isak through the door, and therefore he would catch on to those not being his shoes. Which seems kind of silly now, because Jonas and Eskild don’t sound the same, but fandom sure loved its wild theories. I miss the bonkers shit people would come up with when you’re getting canon in 3-4 minutes increments day by day and are in constant speculation mode.

I love how Even is so charmed by Isak being a brat to Eskild. And that he seems happy at Eskild’s mention of Isak staying in his room all day (because hell yeah, why not, stay in here with me, Isak). And his tightening grip on Isak’s shoulder? My heart.

Also, Even’s gaze is more on Isak’s reactions to Eskild than looking to the door toward the voice, like … he is so enamored of everything Isak does and can barely take his eyes away. (That’s the boy he’s noticed since the first day of school!!! And he’s here, he’s finally here!!)

Isak complaining that Eskild is a babysitter is totally borrowed from what Even said the night before, when he told Sonja to stop monitoring him. Isak absolutely absorbs a lot of what Even says and does and ends up imitating him.

So we finally get the explanation for how Isak met Eskild and came to live in the flat in this scene. I wasn’t watching from S2 but this would have been a dangling topic since the S2 finale, at least.

In the script it’s mentioned specifically that Isak had a fight with his father before going out and getting drunk, which breaks my heart. Isak’s dad really let all of them down. What kind of a father leaves his teenage son alone with a mentally ill mother he is not prepared to care for? All because the dad couldn’t deal with the mom’s mental illness? What the fuck is a 16/17-year-old supposed to do? Not to get too personal again, but I have been a caretaker to a mentally ill parent (and one who had some drastic issues but whose sense of reality mostly wasn’t impaired like with Isak’s mother) and I could not imagine doing it without the help of my other parent. It’s just outrageously selfish to bail like that. 

Isak not being able to remember whether Eskild tried to pick him up is … alarming. And sad. And it’s very good that Eskild found him when he was that out of it instead of someone else with less noble intentions.

Looking at Even’s POV, I doubt he thinks there’s anything going on between Isak and Eskild but Isak living on his own with another gay man, a non-relative, is a bag of unanswered questions, such as - is Isak out to anyone? Where’s Isak’s family? Was he kicked out for being gay? Like this is his way of prodding out some sensitive information. Later when he asks how Isak’s parents will react if they start dating, you can imagine this information is on his mind.

Again, Even’s eyes never leave Isak’s face during this conversation, and he keeps rubbing his thumb along Isak’s shoulder. And he doesn’t ask too many questions, he just lets Isak talk. Isak opens up more than we’ve seen him do in this season so far, but when stuff starts to get too heavy then he plays it off and Even allows it and doesn’t push.

As cute as it is, there’s something a little sad about Isak saying that Even can have his story and make a movie out of it? Like he’s clearly trying to play down how much it really affects him. Oh Even, just turn my sad family history into one of your tragic films, ha ha except not really.

“I am going to make a movie about you!” AHHHHHHHH. So glad we got our S4 YouTube masterpiece because when hearing this line mid-s3 I totally figured it would be foreshadowing and Even would like, confess some feelings to Isak via stop motion Barbie adventures. And I mean, the rest of S3 is so amazing that I didn’t miss not getting any Ken doll smooching, but I’m glad Julie came through with the promised cinematic ode to Isak Valtersen.

When Even’s phone starts ringing they both keep joking and laughing until they can no longer ignore it. Another intrusion to the bubble.

Even stroking back Isak’s hair and pressing his face to Isak’s forehead - some A+ intimacy.

I have to single out their acting again. Henrik is fantastic with all the touches and affection he’s giving, and Tarjei does such a lovely job with the slight shyness and sweetness from Isak. Like this is all new to Isak! It’s a ton of romantic attention and affection from a boy! You can see his curiosity and exploration. Then when they have to deal with the reality of what’s waiting for them outside the bubble, Even is so blatantly unhappy and Isak is just deflating in his subdued way. The actors manage these emotions so well.

Man, you can see how quietly happy Isak gets when Even asks to stay in there with him forever. He’s almost glowing. And it makes sense that this, specifically, is what Even asks him, because that’s what they want at the moment - not just to be together, but to stay inside the bubble away from all outside complications.

This final kiss as we close out the clip is just. The sweetest thing ever. With Isak lifting up his head to ask for it and Even kissing Isak’s forehead and cheek and their hands on the other’s face and neck. Imagine Isak’s growing confidence in asking for the kiss and Even’s generosity in giving Isak more than what he asks.

I don’t necessarily put a timeline as to when these two definitely fell in love (as opposed to liking each other/having a crush/whatever), or realized that they were in love, but tbh this feels like when it might have been it for Even. The act of breaking up with Sonja and asking Isak to be his boyfriend had to be huge for Even, in light of everything he had been through, and realizing he was in love with Isak here was big enough to take a chance, end his stifling but stable relationship, and pursue something new and unknown.

You know when you listen to a song you enjoy so much that you start to hear it and you don’t really love it anymore, it’s more like the memory of loving it? Or a book you read so many times that it’s more that you remember the emotions it used to provoke in you, rather than feeling them in the moment? Sometimes I fear that season three of Skam will get worn out for me like that. After all, I’ve seen it who knows how many times by now, and the show ended more than a year ago - eventually watching it will just be about the memories of how it felt to watch the first time, and not feeling scenes in themselves, right? 

Watching this scene again still feels like the first time.

Clip 2 - Morning after

There has been discussion over whether Isak and Even went further than makeouts during their cozy weekend and I’m 95% in the camp that they did not. I mean, by all means, headcanon otherwise, but I don’t think sex happened at this point for the following reasons:

Narratively it would have been a huge deal, both in the progress of their relationship and of Isak’s personal development, and I tend to think Julie would have shown it or hinted at it more strongly if anything sexual had happened. It seems too important not to make more obvious. If you think about it, the parallel universe conversation could have happened while they were in a state of undress (or something to indicate that they’d gone further than makeouts) but instead she had them talk while in oversized hoodies and sweats. So I think she wanted the main takeaway from this snuggly Saturday to be them talking about their lives and personal philosophies.

Like I said, it would have been a big deal for Isak, going from his first kiss with a boy to being sexual with a boy within a day or so, and since Isak is still dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia, I’d say he wouldn’t progress that fast? It’s true that he seems willing to jump into things with Even pretty quickly, but it also makes more sense to me as a step after he’d come out to his friends and gained a little more self-acceptance. “They’re teenagers and therefore driven by hormones” isn’t convincing enough of a reason enough for me to think they went that far. I mean, Noora and William are also shown waking up in bed in their underwear in the next clip after their first kiss, and it’s immediately established that they have not yet had sex. (Which is why I don’t think Isak waking up in his boxers is proof, either.)

Just personal preference but Even is already cheating on Sonja by making out and snuggling with Isak. I’d rather he didn’t do anything blatantly sexual with him on top of that.

The only thing that gives me some doubt is the crumpled tissue on Isak’s nightstand, because we all know Skam loves to be cheeky about Isak’s toilet paper, lmao.

We’ve seen Isak struggle with insomnia but here he appears to have slept pretty well, and we get the first hint that Even also has trouble sleeping. “I don’t sleep cuz sleep is the cousin to death” is waaaaay more loaded as a lyric than it might seem at first. It’s also quite ominous as we kept getting casual mentions of death around Even. Feels like the Grim Reaper is always trailing him.

Even frequently calling Isak hot/attractive, as he does on his sketch, is so good for Isak to hear. Isak has trouble vocalizing his attraction to men (well I GUESS that guy on Grindr is handsome, Eskild) but for Even, talking about his attraction to Isak is as normal as breathing. Even just does not give a fuck, in a lot of ways, about some of the hangups that Isak currently struggles with - talking about men being attractive, dealing with generalizations, liking “gay”/stereotypically un-masculine things. And that’s really good for Isak to be around, because he thinks the world of Even, and if Even can be like that or say this or do that, then maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world for Isak to admit he finds boys attractive. Even normalizes some of this behavior for him.

Also, it’s just so nice for Isak’s first real love (a boy!!!) to make him feel adored and shower him with compliments. Sincere ones, at that! Even isn’t faking any of this as some people predicted; he’s completely smitten with Isak.

I find it so endearing that cartoon Isak wears a snapback underwater.

I forgot, who did the drawings for Even? Some random on the production team? Julie? Imagine keeping that as a souvenir from the set.

Even has already internalized what Isak said about parallel universes. This one is just a silly joke comic, but later these sketches are going to be something like a coping mechanism for him.

Lmao, Eskild and Noora. Noora is randomly cleaning walls as a way to either alleviate William-related stress, satiate Isak-related curiosity, or both. Both? Both. Julie had to delete a William-related line in the script because it didn’t fit in right here, but by the Looks she gives Isak once Eskild steps in, she wants all the gossip.

You know, not that I condone turning Isak’s sexuality into a fun speculative game, but I so wonder how the girl squad side of Nissen was reacting to the developing Evak relationship from the outside? You know Noora was probably giving Eva updates on everything, Vilde was clueless for a while, Sana was just complaining about Isak forgetting his biology notes, and Chris was like, “Damn, the spirits weren’t smoking crack after all.”

Don’t you wish you could’ve seen the Even-Eskild interaction in the bathroom that morning? Especially when Eskild encounters a random dude in the flat wearing the Jesus shirt. Was Even still wearing the shirt when he left, or did he return Isak’s clothes and go home in his Halloween costume?

Eskild is just. The best. He knows that Isak is most likely gay, and he wants Isak to open up to him, and he’s probably like “it’s finally happening!!!” once he spies Even in the bathroom. But he’s trying to be “casual” and positive about it. Oh, that Even guy was super cool! It’s cool that you had a cool guy over, Isak, we’re all cool with it.

Alas, Isak was Not in the mood to talk about this. As soon as he steps out of his bubble, he gets confronted with questions about Even and has to retreat. But the bubble just isn’t the same alone.

Clip 3 - Isak on the outskirts of the boy squad

Poor Isak just wants to find out what’s going on with Even, to the point of waiting outside his classroom. But he has no idea that what Even’s going through is way more serious than he could have realized.

Isak doesn’t waste a single second in bailing from Emma, lmao.

This scene with the boys is so well done. The tension is evident. Tarjei’s acting is terrific. He rolls up to the boys ready to be bro Isak, friend Isak, and you can see him present a better mood (or faking a better mood) only for the shock to sink in when he realizes he fucked up by forgetting Magnus’ birthday.

When Isak strolls up to the boys, none of them pause to acknowledge his presence, they don’t even know he arrives until Isak starts apologizing. That’s how out of the loop he is.

To be fair, as much as I understand why Isak would lose track of anything except lying in Even’s arms - with someone looking at you and cuddling you like that, who wouldn’t - but he did blow off his friend’s birthday after talking about it with his friends and discussing tentative plans, and ignored their texts to alert him. That’s the problem with the bubble: you’re cut off from the outside world, both bad and good. Isak needs to learn how to bring his two worlds together and not aggressively shut them off from each other.

Not to mention that this is the third week in a row where Isak has lied or canceled plans, after the Emma pre-drink he randomly canceled and the kosegruppa pre-drink he didn’t tell the boys about. Isak’s lie about his family party is just half-hearted. Jonas and Mahdi see right through it and aren’t falling for this BS. Even Jonas, the best friend ever, is getting done with Isak’s shit.

Lol forever at Julie’s script being like “Isak gives (Magnus) a hug or high-five or whatever, how the fuck am I supposed to know what 17 year old boys do.” It’s hilarious but also indicates that she probably asked Tarjei and David what gesture would fit in the context of this scene for their characters, and they went with the hug. Awwww.

The other boys do some good acting in this scene, too. David does a nice job of being a little friendlier than the other two, but in a muted way. Magnus is the most cheerful and good-natured of the boys, the one who doesn’t really get upset, and so he doesn’t shut out Isak to the degree that Jonas and Mahdi do (they both seem mega-annoyed with him) but I think Magnus was actually hurt by Isak forgetting his birthday? I mean, I doubt he went home and cried in his pillow. But it would sting that Isak just completely bailed with no warning, no text message that he wasn’t going to make it. He just totally forgot. 

Isak tries to work his way back into the circle, being enthusiastic, wanting to know what happened, but he’s so blatantly on the outside. The other boys don’t even try to tell the story to him (and Jonas is the one who says this so you know it’s got an extra sting). You can see Isak visibly dim when he realizes he can’t just jump back into the squad - again, great acting from Tarjei.

Also, once the boys have made it clear that Isak can’t hop into their conversation like everything’s normal, we don’t get any more closeup shots of their faces. It’s all on Isak’s reaction. When the boys keep talking among each other, it’s like something happening at the edge of the frame, they move in and out of it, but we’re not able to engage with it fully … we the viewers don’t feel like we’re part of the discussion, either. We’re there with Isak.

So this story the boys tell, about the girl with the facial hair, was not in the script and must have been improvised by the actors or prompted by Julie later. However, it’s an example of how S3 was firing on all cylinders. The boys could have been talking about anything. They could be telling some wacky story about Magnus, a can of beer, and a saxophone. Any anecdote that’s complicated and something Isak can’t be part of, anything where you just had to be there to understand. But it’s not just any story. The incident they’re talking about involves a girl with a facial hair and Magnus almost kissing her. And how this was gross, you don’t want to kiss someone like your father. And what did Isak do on Saturday, instead of going to Magnus’ birthday party? He was kissing a boy. And lol, Even isn’t the most hirsute dude out there, but you have to imagine he has some stubble. But in any case, the message of what they’re saying is clear: kissing people with stubble is gross. Something I doubt a gay guy would think. These are straight dudes who don’t want to kiss girls who remind them of boys. Meanwhile Isak has been kissing an actual boy and found it to be pretty damn amazing, way more satisfying to him than kissing a girl. It’s just another way he’s locked out of the group - not only was he not there for this particular incident, he can’t even relate to the feelings behind the story at all. Julie and the cast are basically multi-tasking here by adding an extra layer of isolation that’s thematically relevant to Isak’s internal struggles. A ton of S3 is layered like this, which is part of why it’s lingered with its fans. And why I wanted to write tl;dr meta about it, lol.

[justcallmemav]

7/20/18

--------------------------

Pt.20

--------------------------

“You didn't get along with her, so this shouldn't be affecting you this bad.”

(She saw how you treated me and wanted to adopt me.)

“You trust people too easy, girl.”

( I had known him for 13 years. I built that trust. )

“You put yourself in this situation.”

( I didn't ask for it.)

“I never liked him anyways, trash grew legs and took itself out.”

(I loved him for five years.)

▪▪   ·I love you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.

---

▪▪   ·I'm at work I'll message you when I'm off. Ly2.

---

▪▪   ·I could use a call right now.

---

▪▪  ·Can't talk right now, will call tomorrow. You'll be fine for a day.

--------------------------------------------------

▪  You're my best friend. I love you. I can't take it anymore.

---------

▪   I think this is it.

--------------------------------------------------

▪▪▪  Thank you for always loving me unconditionally. You're the greatest sister anyone could ask for. I love you. You're better off without me.

--------------------------------------------------

      You came to visit me two days after i was taken into the hospital on july 20th at 9 o'clock at night.

      I was drinking an excessive amount within the matter of two hours.

     Within the last few minutes of the second hour, I saw the walls of the world around me collapsing.

This is it.

I have nothing left.

     My mind wouldn't rest. I took a xanax but it didn't help ease my mind.

     It sure couldn't mend my broken heart.

                  This was the last time.

It didn't work before.

           It has to work now.

                          So I begged, and I cried.

I prayed to a God I wasn't even sure existed.

Please take me now.

        I want to come home.

                      I think I'm ready now.

JUST TAKE ME NOW. I AM READY. PLEASE FUCKING TAKE ME. I'M READY.

      I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I made the choice to give into my thoughts and my depression. I made the choice to finalize this shit I consider living. This existence. This truly was it. This is the end.

      I let my hands trace their way to my fate. To my drawer. Opening the pill bottle. Where the palm of my hand met my lips to fill my mouth with what I knew would make everything better soon. Next thing I know, my body was lured to the bottle of vodka as it stands at the end of the bed. I wrap my fingers tight around the neck of the bottle, lips to the glass. Down the hatch and into the rabbit hole I go. I feel my body spiral. Down...down...down...down…

                      Boom

                         So bitter.

                        Yet so good.

Was this the only way i could be happy again?

I will reach the numbness I yearn to undergo.

I've heard the rumors.

Does it seem as free as they say?

            Then along came the thump.

                       ALAS~

Nothingness.

Darkness. No voices, no pain, no criticism. Just the echoes of my heart beat.

Thump.. Thump….. Thump….

After what felt like days… the darkness fades steadily. The numbness dissolves like ice through my fingertips.

               Off in the distance I hear something. A cry? A car? A siren? A siren.

I struggle to come to consciousness.

                 I find it nearly impossible.

Then out of the blue, I hear a voice.

                A voice so faint and familiar.

After some time, I can open my eyes half way as I slip back into consciousness.

My vision is hazy. I managed to come to when I hear her voice.

“Cayley, there's some people here who need you to get up and come outside. They need to check on you.”

I see the pigments from the lights spinning on their vehicles, bouncing off of the brick walls on the outside of my home, but it's all blurry.

       I struggled to stand as I stepped through my threshold to go outside.

Who needs to talk to me? About what? Why?

I look up and see two policemen and a paramedic. I begin to hyperventilate.

“Is my dad okay?”

Ma'am, we received a call stating that you may be a harm to yourself, so I ask that you don't resist help. Are you able to follow us to the back of the ambulance, ma'am?

·I haven't done anything and I'm not a harm to myself.

·For your own safety we need to make sure that's true. We can't take risks, miss.

·I'm sorry, please ma'am let go of my arm, I don't need help. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME I AM FINE.

I hear my father talking to the police officer but couldn't make out what they were saying over dad's coworker crying and all of the sounds around me. I panicked. I heard my dad speaking once more, only this time it was directed at me.

He asked me three things.

“CAYLEY BABY WHAT’D YOU DO?”

“WHAT DID YOU TAKE?”

My hearing began to fade slowly, as I focused on the ringing gradually developing in my head. I could ever so slightly hear the walkie talkies and daddys office keys jingling in his pocket. I heard Sues charm bracelet that she loves so much.

I felt my heartbeat through my chest, as if it was trying to escape. I feel my heart rate descend,  I look up to see what was around me. Everyone was there.

I saw my father crying and shaking.

 I saw his girlfriend crying.

    I saw my father's coworker crying.

          I was embarrassed.

Yet, too weak to care.

I muttered to the medic under my breath;

“I'm ready to go. Ma'am please take me.”

I collapse, but the woman was quick to catch me. She definitely had motherly instincts. Not even 2 seconds after i collapsed, I lose consciousness.

          I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I'm being hovered by two men with papers on clipboards and the medic who stopped me from busting my ass on concrete. They're bombarding me with questions and demands.

“Your oxygen levels are low, ma'am. I need you to inhale and exhale on ten. The oxygen being distributed through the tubes in your nostrils is a bit cold. Just a fair warning. Are you physically capable of removing your tunnels, lip piercing, your engagement ring, and whatever else pierced or on your person that could be a threat to yourself of me?”

“Do I have to take off my ring?”

“Yes ma'am, unfortunately it's code. We'll put it in this bag. It will stay unbothered. Please remove your piercings.”

Shortly after I began hyperventilating because I couldn't stop crying, and boom.

All consciousness was lost.

How could I harm anyone with a ring?

She should have been patient, anyways.

~Don't rush me.~

       You asked me why I did it. It took you two days, it took my father less than 60 seconds to get to me when he saw the ambulance at the door.

       You took 48 hours to muster the pride to visit me, and when you did, you showed no emotion at all. You hugged me that day and I felt no love.

        I was barely aware of what was going on, yet I somehow sensed tension coming from your end. As if you were forcing yourself to care when deep down you knew you didn't.

I felt like I was being smothered by a well maintained, ‘JLo Glo’ scented greeting mat.

          Even when I was much younger and you would stay in and drink, you'd hug me and I felt this giant strange force field of motherly love surrounding me, if that makes any sense. There was a step by step process of your home drunk persona and it went the same way every time.. but I'll get to that in a moment.

    Anyways, I'm still thankful you showed. Even two days late. You had me slightly convinced that you actually cared.

ALMOST. I was informed of the insensitive remarks you made to my father about me.  You really had the audacity to turn around and say I was wanting everyone to be worried about CAYLEY because ‘everything has to be about CAYLEY and CAYLEY was just looking for attention'.

         Like I didn't come home from school and take two steps through the threshold only to see you crying because you got dumped. You threatened to end your life. (Because you loved this man so much. The man you are with now. 9 years later. The man you use for money. Whom you cheat on)  Me and your biological daughter took you and admitted you.

         I felt like i betrayed you, but i needed you to be alive. For...whatever reason. I guess cos y'know.. a 12 year old needs a parent. You came home and the meds they gave you calmed you down, but you liked that too much. You quickly became dependent, actually you still are. You contradict yourself too often.

         Don't you remember what I have been put through..? By you, mostly. You were and still are so hypocritical that it makes me chuckle. Sigh- anyways, I couldn't fully comprehend anything you said during our visit. I couldn't gather the energy to move nor look at you, let alone reply to your bullshit motherhood quotes.

        You left when the time was up, two weeks go by in a blur still ever so slowly, and they transfer me. People were able to reach out to me. A handful of people I love and cherish which includes my sister, my father, his girlfriend... the woman who has been more of a mother to me than you ever were.

       It didn't take much time after me being in that God forsaken inpatient facility for me to be pulled aside by a nurse in a confidential manner. My brain threw around every possible reason as to why she was doing this.

--------------------------------------------------

Am I going home?

Are they moving me again?

What did I do wrong?

--------------------------------------------------

  ~ Nothing, stop with the assumptions~

    She informed me that I had received multiple calls from a woman saying she is my mother but she couldn't pass it through because another woman, who ALSO claimed to be my parent/caregiver, had requested that this number (she was giving me )go on a restricted no contact list. She handed me a sheet of paper with with a number on it. Buttttt, it wasn't yours. So I had no idea what was going on. Who's my caregiver? Did my sister put you on the no call list? Nope. It wasn't your number and you never do wrong, so you denied having anything to do with that whole thing. I decided to call the number while the addiction groups were in the other room. I had no reason to be there so I had time to meditate, draw, socialize, or find out who was on the other end of that phone line.

It's obvious what I chose.

It took a few tries until someone finally answered. When they did I felt like an idiot. How could I not know.

You hated her because of how hard she tried to see me and my siblings. You had so many hateful things to say about her, yet no validation. It made you angrier when you told us about her then made her out to be a bad guy and we still got in touch with her. You hated that, didn't you. You hated it because the truth was going to come out if we found her.

Lady, I met my real mother when i was 11 years old. That was the day my father bought my favorite hat… a black fedora with a blue stripe inside of a purple stripe in the middle (which I still own). I was wearing this black shirt with a red graphic design on the front and back that was WAY too baggy on me and a pair of cuffed blue jeans, I do believe. It's been eight years, I have great memory but I'm not special like that.

If it weren't for daddy, my sister, and my brother... I would've never known who she was. Well, when I finally got ahold of my biological mother on the phone the day after I received the number by the nurse… she was genuinely upset. She said one thing that will stick to my brain for the rest of my life.

“I lost you once I can't lose you again”

You won't have to.

[tpanan]

My Saturday Daily Blessings

July 17,2021

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........                                                                                                                          

Saturday of the Fifteenth Week in Ordinary Time (Roman Rite Calendar) Lectionary 394, Cycle B

First Reading: Exodus 12:37-42

The children of Israel set out from Rameses for Succoth, about six hundred thousand men on foot, not counting the little ones. A crowd of mixed ancestry also went up with them, besides their livestock, very numerous flocks and herds. Since the dough they had brought out of Egypt was not leavened, they baked it into unleavened loaves. They had rushed out of Egypt and had no opportunity even to prepare food for the journey. The time the children of Israel had stayed in Egypt was four hundred and thirty years.

At the end of four hundred and thirty years, all the hosts of the LORD left the land of Egypt on this very date. This was a night of vigil for the LORD, as he led them out of the land of Egypt; so on this same night all the children of Israel must keep a vigil for the LORD throughout their generations.

Responsorial Psalm:  Psalm 136: 1 and 23-24, 10-12, 13-15

"His mercy endures forever."

Verse before the Gospel: 2 Corinthians 5:19

R. Alleluia, Alleluia

"God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation."

R. Alleluia, Alleluia

Gospel: Matthew 12:14-21

The Pharisees went out and took counsel against Jesus to put him to death. When Jesus realized this, he withdrew from that place. Many people followed him, and he cured them all, but he warned them not to make him known. This was to fulfill what had been spoken through Isaiah the prophet:

   Behold, my servant whom I have chosen,        my beloved in whom I delight;    I shall place my Spirit upon him,        and he will proclaim justice to the Gentiles.    He will not contend or cry out,        nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets.    A bruised reed he will not break,        a smoldering wick he will not quench,    until he brings justice to victory.        my beloved in whom I delight;    I shall place my Spirit upon him,        and he will proclaim justice to the Gentiles.    He will not contend or cry out,        nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets.    A bruised reed he will not break,        a smoldering wick he will not quench,    until he brings justice to victory.        And in his name the Gentiles will hope.

**Meditation:

How do we achieve success and victory in our lives? In everyone's life there are key moments or turning points on which the whole of one's life hinges. The mounting confrontation between the Pharisees and Jesus was such a decisive event and crisis. The religious leaders became intolerant of Jesus because of their prejudice. Nothing that Jesus would do or say from this point on would be right in their eyes. They conspired, not simply to oppose Jesus but to eliminate him.

Courage and determination to do God's will Jesus met this defiance with courage and determination to do his Father's will. He used the crisis to teach his disciples an important lesson for God's way to success and victory. The only way to glory in God's kingdom is through the cross - the cross of suffering and humiliation - which Jesus endured for our sake and for our salvation. We, too, are called to take up our cross every day - to die to sin, selfishness, envy, pride, strife, and hatred - and to lay down our lives in humble service and love for one another, just as Jesus did for our sake.

Matthew quotes from the "Suffering Servant" prophecies of Isaiah to explain how Jesus the Messiah would accomplish his mission - not through crushing power - but through love and sacrificial service (Isaiah 42:1-4). In place of a throne Jesus chose to mount the cross and wear a crown of thorns. He was crucified as our Lord and King (John 19:19; Philippians 2:11) There is no greater proof of God's love for us than the sacrificial death of his only begotten Son for our sake and our salvation (John 3:16).

Jesus died not only for the Jews but for all the Gentile nations as well. Isaiah had prophesied centuries before, that the Messiah would bring justice to the Gentiles. To the Greek mind, justice involved giving to God and to one's fellow citizen that which is their due (whatever is owed to them). Jesus taught his disciples to give God not only his due, but to love him without measure just as he loves us unconditionally - without limits or reservation.

Justice tempered with love and mercy Jesus brings the justice of God's kingdom tempered with divine love and mercy. He does not bruise the weak or treat them with contempt, but rather shows understanding and compassion. He does not discourage the fainthearted but gives hope, courage, and the strength to persevere through trying circumstances. No trials, failings, and weaknesses can keep us from the mercy and help which Jesus offers to everyone who asks. His grace is sufficient for every moment, every situation, and every challenge we face. When you meet trials and difficulties, do you rely on God's help and grace?

Lord Jesus, your love and mercy knows no bounds. Give me strength when I am weak, hope when I am discouraged, peace when I am troubled, consolation when I am sad, and understanding when I am perplexed. Make me an instrument of your love and peace to those who are troubled and without hope.

Sources:

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

**Meditations may be freely reprinted and translated into other languages for non-profit use only. Please cite copyright and original source.

Copyright 2021 Daily Scripture Readings and Meditation, dailyscripture.net author Don Schwager

[goblarsgist]

#AMD114 SO YOU ARE A PASTOR ?

My father was a carpenter who became a university don, I have written of how he didn’t get the opportunity due to lack of funds but seized the opportunity with both hands after securing a scholarship later in life. My mother was a school teacher who ended as headmistress. These two great people were my earliest role models in life as they used their lives to paint pictures of examples for mine. They were both hardworking, diligent and had buckets of perseverance to boot . You could set your watch using my Dad’s schedule at University of Ibadan ( Nigeria) till he retired or till we demanded he retired. My mum was a very strong woman who feigned weakness. This made her detractors undermine her to their peril. She was a multitasker , a business woman and a very good teacher who combined this with raising five very strange children . It took me years to appreciate this great woman who quietly ran our home as our dad was called the head.

When I was young I wanted to be an inventor largely because Dad bought me a book of 101 inventors or something like that ? I was so persuaded I would be one . A little later I got a child’s dissecting set as birthday present ( yes , used for be legal ) and hey presto I was going to be a doctor . This notion was largely proposed by my dad who already had a plan for his five children .So you can imagine the pain I must have caused him when I crashed out of med school at 21. Then a transformation took hold of my life and I discovered how to make money. Prior to this, I was just a book worm . My first enterprise was to make shoes in Aba and I sold them specifically to medical students , I had leveraged my experience as a previous medical student to access that market and I was privy to the fact that many medical students at the time had money but no time . My old colleagues who felt my life was doomed to failure also patronised me emotively out of pity . Whichever way I made money . My enterprise soon increased to handling clothes sent by old friends from the UK and US. I was a regular feature at the female halls not for the reasons I used to visit as a piranha but as a budding entrepreneur. It was not uncommon to see me with a car with the boot loaded with female underwear , shoes , bags etc. I was not ashamed to make money legitimately. Yet, many in my circles felt I was doomed to be a failure for having crashed out of med school . My journey later led to satellite dishes with the pioneers in Nigeria as i helped to instal in a few homes of some rich and powerful. I remembered running into old mates who appeared to have made it before I even got started but I made money legitimately and my business skills were expanding. This later led me to a brief incursion into oil In warri ( Nigeria) where my eyes were opened . By the time I left Nigeria, I was already working with organisations that sold christian materials to big organisations and distributing them across west Africa. My last job in Nigeria was as a business manager supplying christian materials to a niche market . Later on in the UK, I moved into selling furniture ( very lucrative), pharmaceuticals selling and marketing for various Pharma organisations and rising to a Business Development Executive at Johnson and Johnson. While working at Pharma, started an IT company with a friend that serviced some big firms and went on to start a facility management company in Ireland with another friend servicing FIAT. Life was good .i pursued my postgrad in Oxford ( business) in order to consolidate , then the Lord vividly asked me to go into teaching 😳. Yet again all the stigma of failure came rushing back from med school . So I went back to Oxford Brookes to pick up a teaching postgrad. My first client for private tuition was a millionaire with one child who was failing . Let me leave the rest to your imagination . In 13 years I have taught in close to 50 schools in the UK, giving me an uncommon insight into how education works in this country and why it’s been so successful. During that time I went into private management consulting and training alongside my teaching . I also opened a real estate company and made incursions into farming . I have also authored 13 books being sold worldwide .

So, when I’m introduced to many as pastor , you can imagine the disappointment on their faces because they don’t know my story . It’s as if I’m some sort of parasite . I know we have examples littering the world of parasitic pastors but many are decent individuals whose story may not necessarily be as colourful as mine but still wearing different hats and balancing so much in order to help people live a Godly life and make it to the one after. There are many roads to success and we must not pigeon hole it to just a few like our parents generation did. They made you feel like if you were not a doctor , lawyer , engineer or likes , you were a failure . How about the hard working technocrats , or out of the box entrepreneurs or teachers informing our children and shaping our children’s future, the sports people , entertainers ?

What I’m trying to say in so many words is you are not necessarily the sum total of what you do but who you are at your core

. I’m a husband , dad , intelligent, hardworking, visionary , academic and progressive and yes , I’m proudly a pastor!

Blessings

Rev M A Daniel 18092020

[sonofhistory]

James Monroe and the Constitution: Opinions

Two months prior to the Constitution ratification convention, James Monroe wrote to Thomas Jefferson, apparently in friendly terms towards the Constitution. He observed it was created a greater disagreement “among people of character” than any issue since the Revolution. His attitude when he arrived in Richmond had been favorable to the proposed government.Rather than displaying a gradual movement toward the Anti-Federalists, Monroe seemed even more favorable towards the Constitution in April of 1788:

“The people seem much agitated with this subject in every part of the state. The principal partisans on both side are elected. Few men of any distinction have failed taking their part... That it will be nowhere rejected admits of little doubt, and that it will ultimately, perhaps in two or three years terminate, in some wise and happy establishment for our country, is what we have good reason to expect.”

Monroe’s first impressions of the Constitution, the October before, mentioned slight reservations toward the document. In the Spring, he seemed not to have any. James Madison wrote to Jefferson the same month, saying, “Monroe is considered by some as an enemy; but I believe him to be a friend through a cool one.” Monroe would shortly reveal himself to be cooler towards the Constitution that Madison initially viewed. 

In light of the pressing need for strengthening the Union, there seemed to be no other course but to accept it, Monroe thought. However, as he listened to the discussions in Richmond and read innumerable essays in the press, he became more and more critical of the Constitution. 

In immediate approached of the convention, Monroe completed a forward pamphlet entitled “Some Observations on the Constitution.” Before the election for convention delegates, he had intended to publish his writing the Spotsylvania County, Virginia. However, delays at the printer and the low quality of the final production prevented him from distributing it to the public eye. In the end, Monroe did send his “Observations” to individuals whom he held in high regard such as George Washington and Thomas Jefferson. 

Monroe’s pamphlet was a curious work, more a record of the debate waged within himself than a direct attack upon the use of the document. Three-fourths of the lengthy essay was devoted to presenting the reasons the Articles of Confederation had proved inadequate. They had failed, in his judgement, not only because Congress lacked essential powers, but they would also remain unworkable a long as each state had one vote. From his point of view, the arrangement had worked out in Philadelphia was an effective compromise between local and national interests. In spite of this open outlook, Monroe felt certain specific provisions made the whole unacceptable unless they were notified. 

In the first place, he took strong exception to the Senate, which seemed to reverse one of the most unsatisfactory features of the old government--the principle of state equality. To correct this defect, he urged appointment of the Senate according to population and direct election by the people. It also seemed unwise to violate the principle of powers by permitting the Senate to share in executive powers. Monroe condemned the grant of power to levy direct taxes as an interference with purely local matters. He insisted any deficiency in revenue from the tariff could be suppled via requisitions. 

Monroe was an outlier among the Anti-federalists because he recommended the federal government be given direct control over the militia as it means of eliminating the need for a standing army. He was also exceptional in that he had no fear of executive power as Thomas Jefferson had. Monroe on the other hand, was a nationalist with views standing highly with James Madison in central governmental power than Thomas Jefferson’s states rights. Monroe approved the veto power given to the president. He believed that the president must be popularly elected and chosen directly by the people of their country and this would the sole way of carrying out the duty correctly. 

He advocated for strict limitations on the treaty-making power: a mere two-thirds of Congress was not sufficient enough. He concluded by repeating the usually out-cry of the omission of a Bill of Rights. Monroe’s opinions placed him in the anti-federalists of whom were nearly leaning towards of federalist side with slight oppositions and implemented him with the Moderates of the new group. Monroe not only presented proposals for a stronger central unity of the states but also posed far less sweeping objections. 

In the letter that accompanied Washington’s copy of the pamphlet, Monroe attempted to explain away his previous support for the Constitution: “I had not at that time examined it with that attention its importance required, and of course could give you no decided opinion respecting it.” Whether he had not truly formulated an opinion before, the young man certainly had now. Monroe became convinced a few articles in the Constitution would lead to the destruction of the states. The nation legislature would be left to manage the enormous “territory between the Mississippi, the St. Lawrence, the Lakes, and the Atlantic Ocean” too large for it to govern. 

Monroe was also concerned that the Constitution failed to uphold fundamental liberties, “How are we secured in the trail by jury?”, he inquired. If the nation government is given powers, “unless we qualified their exercise by securing this, might they not regulate it otherwise?... As it is with the trial by jury so with the liberty of conscience, that of the press and many others.” Monroe was flatly opposed to direct taxation provided within the Constitution, believing that I met end in either anarchy or the suppression of such liberties. He believed the government would utilize tyrannical collection tactics and that these couples with oppressive taxes would inflame the people to rebellion. 

In his “Observations”, Monroe acknowledge the large “defects” of the Confederation, but cautioned against hastening into the proposed replacement: “Political institutions, we are taught by melancholy experience, have their commencement, mature, and decline; and why should we not in early life, take those precautions that are calculated to prolong our days, and guard against the diseases of age? Or shall we rather follow the example of the strong, active, and confident young man, who in the pride of health, regardless of the admonition of his friends, pursues the ratification of unbridled appetites, and falls a victim to his own indiscretion, even in the morn of life and before his race had fairly begun.”

Monroe was determined that he could fully support the new Constitution: “Although I am for a change, and a radical one, of the Confederation, yet I have some strong and invisible objections to that proposed to be substituted in its stead.” What is the rush? “Is it to be supposed that unless we immediately adopt this plan, in its fullest extent, we shall forever lose the opportunity of forming for ourselves a good government?” 

He concluded in his “Observations” an appeal, “To the people of America, to you it belongs to correct the opposite extremes. To form a government that shall shield you from dangers from abroad, promote your general and local interests, protect in safety the life, liberty, and property, of the peaceful, the virtuous, and the weak.” He knew his position would place him at odds with several of his oldest and dearest friends and political allies: “To different in any respect from these men is no pleasant thing to me; but being called upon an awful stage upon which I must now bear a part, I have thought it my duty to explain to you the principles on which my opinions were founded.”

In finality, James Monroe believed the anti-federalists demand of exiling the Constitution with opinions centered around the lack of wished for articles, was not a means for defeating the constitution, but instead, a means by which the ratification convention may use to improve the Constitution and create and government more in harmony with the republican ideal. 

[ask-de-writer]

CRAWFEATHER! : MLP Fan Fiction : Tales to read AFTER the lights are OUT

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CRAWFEATHER!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1382 words

© 2019 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/16/19

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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TRIGGER WARNING : Multiple murders by ax, poison, and stabbing!

Haunted mansion: You have to get those ghosts in there somehow, right?

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Cory grinned meanly as he bounced the heavy bag from hoof to hoof while he offered, “Yah, I got the money that I owes you, Canter.  It's right here.  Not gonna pay you, though.  Not yet.  I means, it is Nightmare Night.  I will give you the money first thing in the morning.  Just spend the night in the old Crawfeather place.  Should be a piece of cake, after all, you don't believe in ghosts, so you says.”

“You are on, Cory.  But make it 300, if you make me stay in there for the night!”

“You got it, Canter, if you stay the night, I'll make it 300 when you come out at dawn.”

Now he was creeping down one of the empty hallways of the long abandoned mansion of Crawfeather.  The darkness relieved only by the single candle held in Canter's magic.  Old furniture mostly covered by aged dust covers dotted the passage.  He shivered, and it was not from the cold.  He was wishing that he had not taken the dare to spend this Nightmare Night in the reputedly haunted Crawfeather mansion.  Still, 300 golden bits was 300 golden bits.

Canter remembered all too vividly the ghastly past of this place.  The land that the mansion was built on was originally owned by the Bordens, back in the very earliest days of Ponyville, before there was any sort of formal town.

After the Apple Clan had demonstrated the value of the land in the area for farming by creating one of the most productive apple orchards in Equestria, the land rush was on!  The Bordens had claimed a big area and invested all that they had into clearing the land.  It proved to be too stony for any sort of farm.  It wasn't just loose surface stone either.  Rough upthrust sedimentary rock made up most of it. Clyde's attempts to sell it to newcomers became a local joke.

Clyde Borden put the land up in a card game and lost it to Jason Crawfeather.  For weeks afterwards, Clyde crowed about how bad Jason was taken in by winning that worthless land.  Jason and his family quietly ignored him and set industriously to work.  It was not too long before the Crawfeather Quarry was supplying the good building stone for foundations and nicely split slates for stout, weatherproof roofs that the rapidly growing community of Ponyville needed.

The fortune earned by the Crawfeathers and the resentment of the Bordens stoked the flames of the feud that followed.  The orgy of murder was started by Poxy, one of Clyde's grown colts.  

Swinging an ax, he charged into the Crawfeathers and some guests, who were dining on their plaza!  By the time that it was over, Chance Crawfeather was carried up to his room, his life blood soaking the sheets and bolster of his bed as he died.

Sweetbriar Crawfeather, Jason's wife was laid out in the great room.  One of the guests was a doctor who managed to stanch her wounds and saved her life.  She would carry those scars to her grave.

Poxy was caught before he could escape.  Three strong unicorns from the quarry held him down while Jason brained him with his own ax.

Pretending serious remorse for the actions of her brother, Lisset Borden came to serve the remaining Crawfeathers as a maid.  She soon learned that all three of them, Jason, Sweetbriar, and their remaining filly, Sunblossom had a fondness for tomato soup.  She served the unsuspecting family a tasty soup of tomatoes, basil, and a strong portion of poison hemlock.

Sunblossom collapsed at the table.  In spite of the pangs from her own stomach, Sweetbriar assisted Sunblossom up to her room.  In her attempt to appear innocent, Lisset helped her too.

Jason, in spite of the agony in his own innards, called for help from the house staff.  It took them only moments to find the bottle that had contained the deadly concoction.  They captured Lisset as she was coming down the stairs.  Lisset was made to drink the soup that remained.  She was dead before the ghastly wails of Sweetbriar announced the passing of Sunblossom.

Both Jason and Sweetbriar were ill for weeks before they recovered from the effects of the hemlock.  In one regard Sweetbriar never recovered.  Seeing both of her foals murdered by ax and poison drove her into madness.

She was known to haunt the rooms where they died and sought them about the mansion and their play yard.  She even went down into the quarry seeking her “lost” foals.  Most watched her with pity.

Searching the play yard again, as the year was passing into autumn, Sweetbriar stumbled on something concealed from her sight by her madness.  The headstones of her missing foals, Chance and Sunblossom could no longer be denied.  She avidly read what was on each stone.  Instead of wailing her loss, her heart became harder than the stones of the Crawfeather Quarry.

On a late autumn night with no moon to betray her, Sweetbriar sneaked down into the developing town of Ponyville.  Unseen by any, she poured lamp oil over the front porch and back stoop of the Borden house and set it ablaze.  Cunningly, she did not stay to see how her plot played out but repaired back to Crawfeather, avoiding the many foals out in fanciful costumes.

Entering the house, she beheld the horrid sight of Clyde Borden Hacking at the dead body of her beloved Jason with a double bit ax!  She seized the weapon from his grasp as he pulled back for another stroke!  With the power of her rage and madness, she took Clyde's head from his body in a single stroke!

She dropped the ax, which stuck upright in the floor boards.  In her struggles to drag the corpse of the assassin off of her husband's body, her feet slipped in the spilled gore and she lost her footing! She fell on the ax and the razor sharp blade cut her throat!

The house staff and their foals returned from their Nightmare Night, which had been made more exciting by the deadly house fire that had destroyed the Borden house and, apparently all the remaining Bordens!

The town's newly appointed constables had far more to deal with than the usual Nightmare Night pranks.  At least the feud would go no further. Neither Borden nor Crawfeather remained alive to carry it on.

Canter's reverie was broken by the creaking of hinges.  His ears straining to hear more failed to spot any further sound.  This was not the first such sound that he'd heard, either.  He had traced the first ones to open windows upstairs and drafts making old doors swing.

There was a creaking floorboard behind him!  Whirling about in startlement he saw . . . Cory!

“Just checking up on you, Canter.  Realized that you are missing out on Nightmare Night partying.  Brought you a little to make up for it. Here.  Got you something to drink in the bottle and a bunch of candies.”

“Nice of you, Cory.”

As Canter took the bag, the knife that Cory was hiding behind it plunged up, through the bottom of his jaw and into his brain through the weak area of skull on the underside!

Canter collapsed, dead before he hit the floor.

Cory's gloat of, “Looks like that money stays mine!  You ain't going to see the dawn . . .” was interrupted!

Screaming foals in Nightmare Night costumes ran out of the old parlor and out into the night!  The last one bucked the doors shut!  The locking click of the latch was like a trump of doom!  Cory was panting frantically and pounding on the door when the old handle turned.  The opened door showed a brace of constables waiting to take him to jail.

Canter looked about, sort of puzzled.  Everything was sort of gray, in spite of which, he could see clearly.  There was a pony before him, also gone gray, and a good thing. He had several huge wounds.  At least he was not bleeding from them.  Canter could see furniture through him.

  He invited, “Canter, right?  I am Jason.  Why don't you come with me and meet the rest of the family?”

~THE END~

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