Podcasts about papai noel

CONHEÇA OS PRODUTOS DA CAFFEINE ARMY: https://r.vocemaisrico.com/e08eeca18a Encontre o ativo certo para investir hoje: https://finc.ly/f3461cf665 Ao longo da história, poucas datas atravessaram séculos com tanta força quanto o Natal. Hoje, ele carrega um significado histórico e religioso — e, ao mesmo tempo, virou uma das maiores datas comerciais do ano.Mas nem sempre foi assim. Quando o Natal começou a ser celebrado de fato? Como o calendário litúrgico foi se formando e, no Império Romano, como surgiram as datas de celebração do nascimento de Cristo? Seria o Natal apenas o solstício de inverno — ou isso é uma simplificação do mundo antigo, que usava símbolos das estações para representar coisas profundas? Por que 25 de dezembro se tornou tão significativo, e qual é a relação disso com crenças concorrentes da época, como o culto a Mitra e festivais como a Saturnalha? Se a Bíblia não traz uma data exata, como essa tradição se consolidou? E como símbolos e costumes foram mudando com o tempo — do São Nicolau ao Papai Noel, da missa do galo aos Reis Magos — até chegarmos ao Natal moderno, cada vez mais comercial?Para responder a estas e outras perguntas, convidamos Guilherme Freire para o episódio nº 276 do podcast Os Sócios. Falamos sobre o Natal, como essa data se consolidou e tudo o que podemos aprender com ela.O episódio será transmitido ao vivo nesta quinta-feira (25/12), às 12h, no canal Os Sócios Podcast.Hosts: Bruno Perini @bruno_perini e Malu Perini @maluperiniConvidado: Guilherme Freire @guilhermefclfreire

No FIRMESA REDONDA 240, Firu e Mesa recebem os amigos do canal @bolapresa Denis e Danilo, e os quatro debatem qual o presente de natal ideal para cada um dos 30 times da NBA em 2025Faça suas brabas para na KTO, o site onde você encontra as mais completas probabilidades esportivas. Acesse o site pelo link abaixo para a KTO saber que você chegou lá através da nossa parceria - que ajuda demais o canal a crescer! https://kto.bet.br/tocotvAPOSTA NÃO É INVESTIMENTO! Proibido para menores de 18 anos. Jogue com Responsabilidade.LANCE SEUS HOT TAKES AQUI: https://hottakes.replit.app/GIGANTES DO OESTE: Podcast de Giovanni o Brabo com Gabriel Covezzi pra falar de Lakers e Warriorshttps://www.youtube.com/@UCNqnoNdisSkRxP51MMpGBtw FANTASY FIRMESA agora tem seu próprio APP. Sim, entra la pra conferir classificação de todas as ligas e algumas stats avançadas:https://fantasyfirmesa.replit.app/Temos programa novo na casa! É o TOCONVERSANDO, nosso programa de entrevistas.Esse programa só aconteceu graças aos nossos apoiadores, que colaboram mensalmente com valores a partir de R$10 através da nossa campanha no apoia-se: https://apoia.se/tocotvE criamos também nosso CANAL no whatsapp, aberto a todos, siga la para receber no zap as notícias mais quentes da NBA além de todo nosso conteúdo online em primeira mão: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029Vao4Pyv5a249dqbzFj2S

Confira no Morning Show desta quarta-feira (24): O ex-presidente Jair Bolsonaro (PL) deixou a prisão na manhã desta quarta-feira (24), por volta das 9h29, após permanecer detido na Superintendência da Polícia Federal desde o dia 22 de novembro. Em seguida, ele foi encaminhado para o Hospital DF Star, em Brasília, para ser internado. O Supremo Tribunal Federal marcou uma acareação para o dia 30 de dezembro e deve colocar frente a frente os envolvidos no escândalo do Banco Master: Daniel Vorcaro, o diretor de fiscalização do Banco Central, Ailton de Aquino Santos e o ex-presidente do Banco Estatal de Brasília, Paulo Henrique Costa. O Brasil endureceu o discurso na ONU em relação à crise na Venezuela. O embaixador brasileiro nas Nações Unidas, Sérgio Danese, afirmou no Conselho de Segurança que a mobilização militar dos Estados Unidos no Caribe e o bloqueio naval imposto contra o país vizinho são "violações da Carta das Nações Unidas". "Presente" de Natal? O governo americano aumentou a recompensa para quem decidir deixar o país voluntariamente. Eliseu Caetano explica o novo programa que oferece passagem aérea e cerca de R$ 17 mil para brasileiros ilegais. O "jeitinho brasileiro". A Confederação Nacional de Dirigentes Lojistas estima uma multidão nas ruas nesta véspera de Natal. Veja como está o clima na Ladeira Porto Geral em São Paulo e a correria para salvar o Natal dos esquecidos. Quatro detentos saíram pela porta da frente de um presídio em Belo Horizonte (MG) usando o mesmo golpe que os colocou na cadeia: invadir o sistema e emitir alvarás de soltura falsos. Rodrigo Costa conta os detalhes deste caso bizarro que deixou as autoridades em alerta. Uma cena inusitada chamou a atenção na rodoviária de Porto Alegre: um policial civil, usando a fantasia completa de Papai Noel, efetuou a prisão de um jovem de 22 anos procurado por roubo no Pará. Veja os detalhes dessa operação natalina. Pare e respire. Entre a piada do pavê e a correria das compras, o principal muitas vezes é esquecido. O Padre Patrick traz uma mensagem de harmonia e fé para sua família nesta Véspera de Natal, lembrando a importância da data. A médica e especialista, Vanessa Greghi conversa com o Morning Show sobre como lidar com o luto na época das festas de fim de ano, além de outros aspectos da saúde mental, como estresse e ansiedade em relação aos familiares e o ano como um todo. Essas e outras notícias você confere no Morning Show.

ARIEL LAZARI é arqueólogo, GUILHERME FREIRE é filósofo e PE. JOÃO BECHARA VENTURA é sacerdote. Eles vão bater um papo sobre o Natal e suas tradições na religião católica. Já o Vilela acha que insuficiência renal é quando falta rena no trenó do Papai Noel.

Um homem que atuava como Papai Noel em um shopping em Toronto, no Canadá foi preso, acusado de ser um serial killer.Bruce McArthur foi acusado de matar oito homens entre 2010 e 2017 no Canadá, em um caso que revoltou a população local. Isso porque, mesmo com várias pistas bem na cara da polícia, eles demoraram pra chegar em um nome.Nesse episódio especial de Natal, eu vou te contar tudo sobre o caso que ficou conhecido como o Papai Noel sinistro, que pode parecer algo caricato ou que seja, mas acreditem, é bem mais profundo do que parece.Locais mencionados no episódio:Church and Wellesley VillageThe 519Para contato, parcerias e sugestão de episódios, envie um e-mail para: ⁠passaporteprocrime@gmail.com⁠Se você gosta do Passaporte pro Crime, considere apoiar o projeto via:Orelo: ⁠⁠orelo.cc/passaporteprocrime⁠Apoia.se: https://apoia.se/passaporteprocrimePatreon: patreon.com/PassaporteproCrimePara ficar por dentro de novidades e fofocas da vida da apresentadora, é só seguir:Instagram: @andressaisferTikTok: @andressa.isfer

Para um Natal feliz, seguro para os pets e tranquilo para toda a família

Em 2007, para o podcast O Toque (sobre música independente do Brasil), o tema foi música de Natal. Neste episódio especial, Celso Viáfora conta a história da criação da canção “Papai Noel de Camiseta”.A composição surge a partir de um convite inesperado de Ivan Lins e dá início a uma parceria que rende dezenas de músicas. Viáfora também relata como surge a ideia de gravar com as crianças do projeto social Barracão dos Sonhos, de Paraisópolis. O sucesso de “Papai Noel de Camiseta” leva o cantor e compositor a levar o grupo de crianças para apresentações em seus shows pelo Brasil. No final, você acompanha a interpretação da canção feita pelo próprio autor.Capítulos:00:29 Celso Viáfora se apresenta e conta a história envolvendo a composição da música de Natal “Papai Noel de Camiseta”00:38 O telefonema inesperado de Ivan Lins solicitando uma música de Natal para o álbum temático que iria lançar01:29 A reação de Ivan Lins ao ouvir a música e o início de uma parceria que rende mais de 50 canções01:50 A gravação da música com participação de crianças do projeto social “Barracão dos Sonhos”, da favela de Paraisópolis02:22 As contradições sociais entre condomínios de luxo e a favela na região do Morumbi e o quanto a letra da música se encaixa nessa realidade, em trechos como "E surgirão blocos mirins de suas camas de jornal e drag queens, os reis magros do carnaval de pé no chão" 02:54 O apoio de Walter Feldman para levar 15 crianças do projeto para gravar no Rio de Janeiro e a alegria delas ao ver o mar03:21 Celso Viáfora inclui crianças do Barracão dos Sonhos em outras músicas e apresentações que faz pelo país03:58 “Papai Noel de Camiseta” (Celso Viáfora)

Papai Noel pros surfistas é Netuno!O musculoso e magnânimo deus romano trouxe para o Boia de Natal ninguém menos que Nelson Machado, aquele mesmo da loja Waimea (Montenegro 129) e dos mitológicos campeonatos Waimea 5000.A trilha chega com Rio dos Duran Duran, Waimea 55.000 do Jorge Ben, Waimea Bay do Lalo Schifrin e Sleep Dirt do Frank Zappa.

Confira os destaques do Jornal da Manhã desta terça-feira (23): Os presidentes dos Estados Unidos, Donald Trump, e da Venezuela, Nicolás Maduro, voltaram a trocar declarações duras nesta segunda-feira (22), elevando a tensão diplomática entre os dois países. Durante um evento, Trump afirmou que a atitude “mais inteligente” de Maduro seria renunciar ao cargo. Questionado se seu governo pretende tirá-lo do poder, o presidente norte-americano disse que a decisão depende do próprio líder venezuelano, mas fez um alerta ao afirmar que, caso Maduro “bancasse o durão”, esta poderia ser a última vez. Reportagem: Eliseu Caetano. A Federação Única dos Petroleiros (FUP) informou na noite desta segunda-feira (22) que indicou o aceite da contraproposta apresentada pela Petrobras e orientou a suspensão da greve da categoria, que já durava oito dias. A decisão foi aprovada pelo Conselho Deliberativo da entidade, mas ainda será submetida às assembleias dos trabalhadores, que já começaram a ser convocadas. Reportagem: Rodrigo Viga. O governo federal projeta o recebimento de R$ 52 bilhões em dividendos de empresas estatais para tentar equilibrar as contas e cumprir a meta fiscal. Apesar da cifra bilionária, o montante representa uma queda significativa em relação ao ano anterior, sendo R$ 20 bilhões menor do que o arrecadado em 2024. Reportagem: Matheus Dias. O Departamento de Estradas de Rodagem (DER-SP), órgão vinculado à Secretaria de Meio Ambiente, Logística e Transportes, colocou em operação, a partir desta terça-feira (23), 15 novos radares em trechos estratégicos de rodovias estaduais sob sua gestão. Reportagem: Danúbia Braga. A Secretaria de Segurança Pública do Rio de Janeiro enviou nesta segunda-feira (22) ao Supremo Tribunal Federal (STF) o plano de recuperação de territórios previsto para ser iniciado em 2026. O início do plano depende da homologação do Supremo Tribunal Federal. Reportagem: Rodrigo Viga. Às vésperas do Natal, ações de solidariedade têm promovido momentos de emoção e alegria para crianças e adultos em diversas regiões do Brasil. Vestidos de Papai Noel, voluntários percorrem cidades de Norte a Sul levando presentes, mensagens de esperança e apoio a comunidades em situação de vulnerabilidade. Reportagem: Misael Mainetti. O Ministério da Justiça e Segurança Pública formalizou o pedido de extradição do ex-deputado federal Alexandre Ramagem (PL-RJ) que está nos Estados Unidos. A solicitação foi encaminhada ao Ministério das Relações Exteriores em 17 de dezembro, segundo ofício enviado ao STF nesta segunda-feira (22). Reportagem: Janaína Camelo. O presidente Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (PT) sancionou nesta segunda-feira (22) uma lei que altera a Lei de Execução Penal e a Lei de Identificação Criminal para ampliar e detalhar regras sobre a coleta de DNA (material genético) na identificação criminal. Diego Tavares e Thulio Nassa comentaram. Reportagem: Janaína Camelo. O ministro Dias Toffoli, do Supremo Tribunal Federal, prorrogou por mais seis meses a liminar que mantém o estado do Rio de Janeiro no Regime de Recuperação Fiscal. A decisão evita a saída imediata do estado do programa, que permite a renegociação de dívidas e impõe regras de controle de gastos. Reportagem: Rodrigo Viga. O ex-presidente dos Estados Unidos Bill Clinton divulgou um comunicado nesta segunda-feira (22) solicitando que todos os registros que mencionem seu nome nos arquivos da investigação contra Jeffrey Epstein sejam divulgados de forma imediata. Segundo Clinton, a liberação completa dos documentos é necessária para garantir transparência e esclarecer qualquer vínculo citado no processo. Reportagem: Eliseu Caetano. Essas e outras notícias você acompanha no Jornal da Manhã. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Neste vídeo, eu respondo algumas das perguntas mais comuns (e também mais sensíveis) sobre o Natal. Falamos sobre tradição, significado, exageros, distorções e, principalmente, sobre Cristo no centro de tudo.O Natal não é apenas uma data no calendário, nem um debate raso sobre costumes. É uma oportunidade de refletirmos se Jesus ainda ocupa o lugar que Ele merece no nosso coração, na nossa fé e na nossa rotina.Que esse final de ano não seja apenas sobre fechar ciclos, mas sobre alinhar o coração. Que você termine o ano com arrependimento onde for necessário, gratidão onde Deus foi fiel e esperança renovada para tudo o que Ele ainda vai fazer.Feliz Natal!

Parece que emagrecer está no topo da lista dos pedidos para o Papai Noel. Nos últimos anos, tem mais gente falando sobre autoaceitação corporal, autoestima e cuidado real com o corpo. Mas, ao mesmo tempo, uma onda de ultramagreza dominou as redes sociais. Você reparou? Neste episódio, a psicóloga Cíntia Aleixo fala sobre pressão estética, autoestima para além do corpo e como se manter bem entre tantas conversas sobre emagrecimento.DOE: campanha Comida pra Viagem, da ACNURPara conteúdo exclusivo deste episódio, assine a newsletter da Obvious⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Referências citadas neste episódio:Episódio obesidade: a conversa que faltava, com Bruno Geloneze, Bom Dia, ObviousLivro "Guia Prático para a Criatividade: O Caminho do Artista", Julia CameronNos acompanhe também: Instagram da Obvious: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@obvious.cc⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TikTok da Obvious: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@obvious.cc⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Chapadinhas de Endorfina: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@chapadinhasdeendorfina⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Marcela Ceribelli no Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@marcelaceribelli⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Cíntia Aleixo no Instagram: @psicologacintiaaleixoOuça outros podcasts da Obvious:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Podcast Chapadinhas de Endorfina.doc⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Podcast Academia do Prazer⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Livros da Marcela Ceribelli:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Sintomas — e o que mais aprendi quando o amor me decepcionou⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Aurora: O despertar da mulher exausta⁠⁠⁠⁠

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

Elf on a Shelf: Part 1 Her stalker wasn't who she thought he was; Based on a post by LingeringAfterthought, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Honey smiled at the long line of children waiting to see Santa, flipping her phone from Google Translate back to see the information of the next little girl in line, who was looking up at her somberly with large liquid brown eyes. In her small face was a familiar mixture of fear and hope. Wonder; it was wonder in her eyes, Honey thought. Unlike the tired and jaded adults, dutifully shifting their weight from foot to foot, holding overstuffed shopping bags and all the coats of their kids as they distracted themselves on their phones, the children got more and more excited as they drew near the man in the furry red suit with white trim. Honey loved working with the children; because like them, she sometimes could still see the magic. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Norman shift uncomfortably in the painted plywood throne made for him to sit with the children and discuss their good behavior and of the wishes that they hoped would come true. Even at age 62, Norman still saw the magic with his merry bright blue eyes, but it faded when his prostate pained him. When the photographer got the shot the parent wanted, Honey walked to where most of the long line could see her as Norman flashed her a look of worshipful gratitude. The adults' faces immediately fell, knowing what was coming. "I'm afraid Santa needs to take a quick break because apparently the reindeer have begun arguing again!" Norman put his gloved hands up to his real beard, pulled a comically dismayed face, jumped up from his throne, and ran off toward the restrooms. Honey shook her head mournfully and continued, "The reindeer were all practicing their Christmas carols when Comet and Cupid couldn't decide how many times Santa checks his list in Santa Claus is Coming to Town! Does anyone here remember how it goes?" she asked, scanning the line for people game enough to help. Honey scampered back and forth along the line trying to choose among the eager volunteers, her white-trimmed, pink fur skirt flaring out around her thighs, her long legs clad in sparkly curly-toed ruby slippers and candy cane swirl stockings catching the eyes of several fathers. Suddenly, she gasped listening carefully to her headset, "Nina?" she called out. "Comet and Cupid say they will only stop arguing if 'Nina' gives the answer. Is there a 'Nina' here today? Nina?" Honey looked around at the crowd carefully until the little girl with the big brown eyes, who had been quietly waiting 57 minutes in line, gathered the courage to raise her hand. "Oh! Are you Nina?" she asked, running over and crouching down near the girl. "We just adopted her; she only speaks Portuguese," the weary woman holding her hand said quietly. Honey gasped and smiled widely, "Voc fala portugu s Nina? Maravilhosa!" she said, watching the little girl's eyes brighten excitedly. "Voc pode me dizer quantas vezes o Papai Noel verifica sua lista?" she asked, holding her microphone out to the little girl. "Duas vezes!" Nina said confidently into the mic. Honey listened carefully to her headset, concentrating, "'Duas vezes' it is! They've stopped arguing!" she announced. "But now, they want us all to sing the song in Portuguese! Nina, voc vai me ajudar a ensin -los a m sica?" she asked. Nina nodded and slowly she and Honey taught the familiar song to the crowd in a new language. As always, a hush came on the crowd when Honey began to sing. Heads raised up from forgotten phones. Vague smiles drifted onto the turning heads of passers-by in the mall as they paused in their frenetic search for gifts. It wasn't so much that Honey's voice was beautiful, though it certainly was. It was more that when Honey sang, it seemed to make the things that didn't really matter melt away. To those that believed in such things, Honey's voice was magic. When she sang, people held their breath and didn't even miss the air. Honey closed her eyes as she sang next to Nina. It was a newly acquired habit. Though she had been taught to let her eyes slowly drift over the audience, letting them make a connection with each person as she sang, she didn't do that anymore. She knew he was out there. She felt his presence frequently as she worked, but it was only when she sang that he came out into the open. She couldn't hold her voice steady when she saw him watching her, so she closed her eyes and let the magic continue for the crowd. When the song ended, Honey opened her eyes as the crowd cheered, finding his powerful form immediately as if she had been commanded to look at him. Zach. He had changed a lot in the year since he brought his sister's children through the long Santa line, drawing her almost too-large dark blue eyes to him then, as easily as he did now. After bringing his nieces and nephews through the line, he'd gone home and brought all his neighbors' kids to see Santa in five more trips, watching her the entire time. He looked at her as if he'd never seen anything like her in the world, like he couldn't believe she was real. She had loved feeling his eyes on her then, hearing his voice. She had wanted to climb up in his lap, feel his large arms curled around her, whisper to him about how good she had been that year, and of how much she hoped he would make her wishes come true. Of course, all that was before he'd told her he wanted to kill her. Zach's face looked leaner now, though his body seemed even larger, if such a thing was possible. His brooding, deep-set eyes were not merry, as they had been when children climbed his tree-like body in her line last year. They weren't nervously soft and adoring of every part of her, as they had been at their candle-lit dinner. His eyes weren't rageful or insane as you might expect from someone visiting their object of murderous hate, but rather; they were tortured, trapped. Pain and quiet desperation had taken up restless residence in the windows to his soul. Honey knew she shouldn't look at him so much, but she just wished she could understand what she had done wrong. Once the line of children and parents had cleared, it was long past the official closing time. Honey cleaned up the display and prepared it for the next day while Norman took one last lingering trip to the restroom. Her phone showed numerous messages from work friends from her other job asking where she was. The firm had planned a Christmas party at Gatsby's, a gorgeous club worthy of F. Scott Fitzgerald's glamorous hero. It was also the place where Zach had taken her on their first and last date. The Gatsby's waiter had looked stunned and confused when she shakily ordered herself an "angel shot," the code-phrase used to quietly ask bartenders or wait staff for help when you felt threatened, but after his initial shock, the waiter immediately escorted her secretly to a taxi waiting outside before Zach returned to the table. Gatsby's had saved her life; but she didn't want to go back there. After avoiding call after call from Zach, she finally answered and politely asked him never to call her again. To her surprise, he didn't. He never spoke to her again. Unless she sang, she never even saw him, but she felt his presence almost everywhere. It felt like she was haunted by him; haunted by something wonderful and magical that, inexplicably, went horribly wrong. Her phone buzzed again, the display showing that the firm's senior partner wanted to FaceTime her. Steeling herself, she answered. "Honey Lane where in the hell; oh my god lookit you!" Aaron Timberman held the phone high above his head with his long ex-basketball-player arms and Honey saw a crowd of her co-workers crowd into the picture behind him. "Um, hi sir. Sorry I'm late to;" "You're an elf!" "Um, yeah. It's a volunteer thing;" "Wait, wait, wait; you have the shoes? You know, with the; toes?" he slurred, motioning his finger in a spiral motion. Honey bit her lips and tilted the camera down her body, showing her entire costume, tilting her foot to show off the curled toe. "I'm sorry it got late tonight, but I'll be there as soon as I can get home and get changed;" Timberman looked around at the crowd surrounding him, "Guys, do we wanna see Honey Lane here at the party in some boring old Anne Klein shit, or do we want the elf?" he yelled, pointing at the screen. Behind him, almost a dozen of her co-workers began chanting "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf!" "Get yer ass over here, Elf," Timberman ordered, poking at his screen several times before effectively ending the call. A few minutes later, Norman finally came back from the restroom and gave Honey a ride over to Gatsby's in his red SUV bedecked with a bumper sticker that read, "My other car's a SLEIGH!" Honey hopped out after getting bits of advice from Norman that would have been appropriate several decades ago. With flaming cheeks, she brushed the furry white pompom from her hat out of her face and told the smirking ma tre d which party she wanted, sighing when he grinned widely and escorted her through the middle of the main dining area, much to her horror. When the doors to the party room opened and she was greeted by another round of "Elf, Elf, Elf, Elf," she didn't feel much better. She was starving, so she headed over to the buffet and began loading up a plate with delicious-looking things on ice in shot glasses, impaled on sticks, or immersed in flames. She just spied a quiet table in a dark corner and was winding her way toward it to it to scarf down her only food since breakfast before she could be drawn into a drunken debate. That was the plan, anyway. "Hunnybaby! Lookit you! C'mon we gotta dance!" Lee James slurred to her fur-trimmed tits. With a sigh, she smiled and laid her plate down on a nearby table, promising to herself that she would eat right after enduring a dance with the favored junior partner. Unfortunately, after Lee angled her awkwardly around the dance floor, they'd drawn so much attention that everyone wanted to get pics of themselves toasting and dancing with the Christmas elf. At some point, she found herself in Timberman's arms with a glass of champagne in her hand. "Um; what?" she said, almost asking herself how she had gotten there. "I said you look lovely, tonight, Honey. Much better than in a shawl and sheath dress," he said, quickly twirling her around as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "Twirling makes my skirt go up; I'm dizzy," she murmured. A familiar dark figure flashed in the background and disappeared as Timberman turned her again. She looked around, trying to find the figure again, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Why was he there? Had she been singing again? "Well, I'll make sure nobody twirls you, my dear," he said, twirling her and smiling as her skirt flew up her long candy-cane striped legs. "The wives wouldn't like it." "I like your wife's dress Mr. Timberman; looks warm. It covers her ass when she sits, too," she slurred, frowning in confusion at the dark red drink in her hand now. Zach was frowning, and then he just looked blurry again as she swirled around. Maybe swirling made it harder for him to kill her. Why did he want to kill her? It just wasn't fair. Timberman leaned down and dipped her, "I'll make sure to give her your compliments. You know, if you like what wives wear, you should consider getting married. Lee is quite taken with you, you know," he said, stroking his hand against the soft pink velvet of her dress. Honey found herself drifting away and wandering inside her head again, thinking about Lee; he was handsome in an overly-polished way, said funny things, but they always sounded a little mean, like he wanted to be the only one laughing; and he also took her away from the food plate that just floated by on a table. It was still full. She should have eaten that food. What time was it? "He likes my boobs; and he doesn't want to kill me," she agreed eventually, surprised to find that Timberman was gone and she was dancing with Lee James again. "Well, I can't blame him for that; they're fucking perfect; just like everything else. I'm gonna come on them after you suck me off; he murmured, pulling her closer against him. "Let me take you home, Honey; penthouse view of the city; "Umm; no, that's not home; I live in the; railroad place; with the trains?" Honey explained, pointing in what she thought was the direction of the Lowertown Commons. Why did every guy think she lived with them tonight? "Sounds charming, Eliza Doolittle; you should trade up. You don't know how much I'd love twist your arms back and fuck this ass wide open over my balcony tonight," he said, reaching his hand under her skirt and greedily squeezing her bottom. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Honey? I can tell; Lee whispered, his cologne invading her head and making her queasy. "I feel sick; Honey whimpered and staggered away, trying to find the quiet table where the food was that would make her less drunk. The dance floor was confusing, though, always turning around and thumping and flashing. She leaned against a pillar until she got a better sense of where she was. She liked the pillar. It was big and strong; and it stroked her hair. "Honey; wake up, Honey. Open your mouth. You need to take these," the vaguely familiar voice said, cutting through the sleep that had been blocking out some of the pain she felt everywhere. She obediently opened her mouth and the hand put two caplets on her tongue. A water bottle squirted a little cool liquid into her mouth until she moaned and sucked harder, desperate for more. "Not too much. Wait until you can hold that down. I'll give you more in a bit. You don't want that IV back, do you?" "Nuh" Honey groaned. She hated needles. Sure, just about every part of her body hurt more than a needle did, right now, but somehow needle pain felt personal. Like with Zach. He didn't seem like someone who went around wanting to choke everybody; just her. She was nobody special; just a simple girl who kept lawyers organized and tried to be nice. Then, someone wonderful like Zach thought she needed to die. That hurt. Something about her made him go from being tender and intensely loving to someone who; it just didn't make sense. What did she do? Mercifully, sleep faded the pain and clouded her thoughts. Voices below her intruded into a wonderful dream where she was bouncing on clouds. Though not in the same room, the voices seemed strangely clear. "I can't; Terry, she cries when I do that," the pills voice said, making her eyes fly open. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it for a year, but she would never forget it. Her body reacted with a confused mix of emotions, her cheeks flushing and adrenaline searing a path all through her at the same time. "That's because it hurts her. You know what hurts more? Bedsores. Man up. Use the pillows to prop her weight against the parts that aren't hurt on whichever side. It's either this, or she goes back to the hospital, and I have it on good authority you won't be allowed to visit after what happened." "She was screaming; Zach gritted. "Yeah, well they were putting her shoulder back in. People scream. That still doesn't excuse what you did. Since when did you become such a pussy about pain?" Terry asked. "since her." "oh my god." "Shut up," Zach grunted. "Oh my god; "Yeah, that's not shutting up." "The great Z-dog has been taken down;" "Shut up, maggot, it's not like that. I'm just taking care of h;" "By a little bitty pink Christmas elf; Terry laughed. There was a scuffling sound and then a loud whoomp and a forceful exhalation of air. "So, I turn her every few hours until she can do it for herself?" Zach asked, casually. "Yes, sir," Terry choked. "Anything else?" "Clear liquids until she can hold stuff down. Talk to her. Ask her questions. If she seems disoriented or part of her face goes slack, she goes back to the hospital. Don't fuck around." "Got it. Are you squared away, or do we need to discuss this further?" "Squared away, sir," Terry choked, then gasped in relief, panting faintly. "Jesus Christ, you haven't lost your touch. We on for the hump tomorrow at 0 500?" "No. I'm gonna stick close here until she's;" "Got it. Hey, maybe they have those Baby Bjorn things in elf-size. Then, you could just strap her onto your ba; ow! ow! ow, ow, ow!" "You weren't particularly attached to the rest of that sentence, were you, maggot?" Zach growled. "Sir, no sir; Terry squeaked. "I didn't think so. You'll be back here Wednesday," Zach stated, more as an order than a question. "Yeah, if you want me to. Honestly, right now she just needs rest and TLC more than a medic. That stands for 'tender loving care' by the way, not;" "You were just going," Zach said, as the voices moved to another end of the room below her. "Hey, you wanna know what makes an elf's toes curl up like tha;" Terry asked, his question cut off by the slamming of the door. Honey listened, trembling and terrified as Zach paced the floor below her. Though his voice hadn't changed, he sounded nothing like the man that had wooed her so tenderly a year ago. He sounded dangerous, brutal even. He definitely sounded like the kind of person that went around wanting to choke everyone, she thought, strangely relieved that her heartbreak felt a little less personal. How could she have been so wrong in her impression of him? She looked around the room, understanding now how the voices had reached her so easily. She was in an open industrial loft bedroom that opened onto the main floor below. Looking around, she realized she must be in Zach's huge bed, though if the crisply made side next to her was any indication, he hadn't been sleeping in it with her. Looking down her body, she gasped quietly. Her left arm was in a sling strapped to her chest, her legs were covered in bruises, and the right leg that was being stabbed with an invisible knife right now, was wrapped up in an air cast boot. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was feeling sick as she tried to get away from Lee's groping hands on the dance floor. After that; nothing. How did she get here? A beeping noise sounded below and Zach walked across the room to what sounded like a kitchen. The sound of water being poured into a cup, the ringing of a spoon stirring it, a pill bottle being opened. Honey shivered, realizing he was probably coming up to her, soon. She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing, feigning sleep. Steps ascending to the loft bedroom. Ankle stabbing, stab, stab, stab, stab with every panicked heartbeat. A tray went down on the nightstand next to her. A chair across the room was lifted and set down by the bed. Honey told herself to breathe slowly, willing the tears welling behind her lids not to leak out of her eyes. He would leave her alone if she was sleeping, wouldn't he? "You're not sleeping," Zach's voice stated, quietly, and her stomach clenched in fear. "You've been waking up for these pills every four hours like a junkie. I know you don't want to talk to me, Honey, but until you're squared away, you're gonna have to. So, cut the crap, open your eyes, and let's get this done." Honey opened her eyes to see his grim face looking down at her. With one blink, large tears rolled down her pale cheeks, and Zach's jaw set angrily. Sitting down in the chair, he put his elbows on his knees and leaned his massive shoulders forward, looking at her. His hands looked like they could crush rocks as he gripped them together. "Let's get some things straight. I don't know what you think you know about me, but acting like I'm some kind of psycho is pretty shitty. You want nothing of me, that's fine, but you're hurt because you screamed and flung yourself down some stairs rather than let me help you to an Uber. You're staying here until you're well, because some shithead at that party gave you enough roofies to be in a coma for almost 3 days and I'm not dragging my ass to that rat trap of yours in the Commons every day to make sure they don't come back while you're weak. Are we clear?" he asked. Honey swallowed and nodded, wincing at the pain in her neck and head. That just seemed to make Zach angrier. "While you are here, you will do as you're told. You will eat what you get, and you will not complain. You see these, here?" he said, holding up the magic caplets that made everything better. "These are the last ones you're getting. I'm switching you to ibuprofen and Tylenol because, unchecked, this Sackler shit will fuck you up for good and that's not happening on my watch. Do you understand?" he asked. "Yes," Honey whispered. At the sound of her voice, Zach's mouth twitched, but at least he didn't look as angry as when she'd nodded and winced. "You will follow your doctor's orders to the last goddamn word. You will rest. You will do your therapy. You will let me help you and you will ask me for what you need because I am not a fucking mind reader. And so help me, if you do anything stupid like get out of that bed without me here to help you, or push yourself away from me like you did at Gatsby's, or any other drama shit that hurts even one hair on that head again, I will personally make you regret you were ever born." "Yes, Zach," Honey breathed, confused. Two more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without thinking, she leaned over to wipe them off on her shoulder and cried out in pain. Zach squeezed his clenched hands together and several of his knuckles cracked. "You don't use my name. You don't get to use my name. You're not getting under my skin again, you hear me?" Zach growled, using his rough knuckle to wipe her tears. "Orders a fucking angel shot in my own fucking club; fuck you. I don't have a name, you don't have a name. You're nothing to me. Understand?" "Yes, sir," she whispered. Honey leaned forward and took the last spoonful of broth into her mouth and swallowed, looking longingly at the noodles at the bottom of the cup. Zach caught a drop of broth at the bottom of her lower lip with the spoon and returned it to her mouth. "No," he said, seeing where her eyes lingered. "I can do it," she pleaded. "Please; I haven't had anything solid since; how long has it been?" "I said, no. You throw up on another pair of my skivvies and I'll be doing laundry twice a week," Zach said, dabbing her mouth with a paper towel. "Why do I have to wear your boxer briefs anyway? They feel weird. They have this hole-flap thing; and there are some places that aren't supposed to feel a breeze," Honey said, lifting the blanket to look down at his underwear loosely covering her hips. "Are you complaining?" he asked quietly. Honey's eyes darted quickly to his face, "No sir," she murmured, looking down at her lap. "I just thought if I had some of my things here, you wouldn't have to do the laundry so much." "I'll worry about what I have to do, Honey," he said, unthinkingly using her name. Startled, she looked up to see his eyes wandering over her, his massive t-shirt sleeves going down past her elbows. She felt ridiculous and disheveled, but something about the way he looked at her made her hold her breath. Then, without another word, he slurped the noodles out of the cup and took the tray downstairs. After that, the two settled into a quiet routine of him feeding her, giving her medicine, and watching her sleep most of the day. She would sometimes awaken to the soft repetitive sounds of him running on a treadmill, or the clinking of him lifting weights downstairs where she couldn't see him. Then, he would go to the bathroom and shower. After his shower, he came upstairs again in his towel and took some clothes from his dresser before going back downstairs to change. Honey found herself looking forward to those few seconds each day, watching his droplet-covered torso twist as he leaned over his dresser. He frowned as he flipped through his carefully folded underwear. "You wearing the grey ones?" he asked, not looking at her. Honey peeked under the covers, "Um, yes sir," she replied. "I'm supposed to wear the grey ones today," he grumbled to himself. Honey didn't say anything. Zach was the one who picked out which underwear she wore today. He was the one who looked away while he painstakingly slipped the old ones off her hips and pulled the new ones over her boot and up her legs until her bottom was covered again. There was nothing about her life that wasn't chosen and executed by him. If he wasn't happy about the color of his underwear, that was his fault. Still, Zach kept rummaging around in his underwear drawer as if another crisply folded grey pair would somehow magically appear. Finally, rather than offend him by laughing, Honey spoke, "Um; you know, if they're clean, I could wear the pair I had on when I went to the hospital and you could have these. It would get you back on schedule; Zach lifted his head from the drawer and glared at her, as if he thought she was making fun of him. Honey held carefully still and shrugged her uninjured limb. She wasn't making fun, she just wanted to help. The movement caused the huge neckline to gape over to the side, revealing her bare shoulder. She waited as Zach stared impassively at her, the vein at his neck throbbing. After a long moment, he walked over and stood next to her, the tuck of his towel right next to her face. With every breath, she inhaled the scent of his wet body and the bar soap he used. A rivulet of water painstakingly slid from his chest and down his abdomen, until finally disappearing into the tightly twisted white cotton. Honey glanced up to see that he had been reading her face as she watched the droplet's progress. With a shaking breath, she blushed and pulled the covers higher with her good arm. With a twist of his mouth, Zach pulled the neckline back over her shoulder again and quickly left the room. That night, after leaving her with a video baby monitor watching her on the nightstand, Zach returned with a bag of her underwear and some of her nightgowns. After watching her excitedly sort through them, Zach pushed them aside and sat on the edge of the bed. "There were a bunch of boxes with tags on them in your living room. What's that about?" he asked. Honey's eyes dropped, "Oh; that's the charity gift thing for kids. You sign up and get them something they wished for and wrap it up so they can have something under the tree, when they wouldn't have something otherwise. It's nice, you know? I signed up for a bunch and I was supposed to wrap them and get them back to the law firm, but I guess; sorry kids," she trailed off. Looking furious, yet carefully impassive at the same time, Zach cursed under his breath and left again, returning with the packages and a huge stack of unused Styrofoam clamshells from Gatsby's, and dumped them on the bed next to her. For the next few hours, they "wrapped" the presents, Zach carefully fitting items into an appropriate-sized takeout box, and Honey trying to make them pretty with ribbons. As she watched him work, occasionally cursing under his breath, she found herself smiling at his frowning face when he was strategizing how to fit a basketball into three disassembled clamshells. "What are you laughing at?" he said, glaring when he caught her at it. "I wasn't laughing. I was smiling." "Why were you smiling, then?" he asked. "I guess; I just like you; sir," she said, glancing over at him. Honey saw a hopeful softness steal into Zach's eyes until he forcibly wrestled it down and a look of hooded sarcasm shaded them. "Yeah, well; fool me once," he sneered. Angry, Honey closed her eyes, blocking him out the only way she could. "You know, that's; that's not fair. Not after what you said; you scared me!" she said, frustrated that, once again, tears were rolling down her cheeks. Zach choked out a mirthless laugh, "I scared you? What did I say, Honey? What did I fucking say? God! I was on eggshells all night trying not to fuck it up with you and then you just; why? Those creeps you were dancing with at that party, those fucking 'nice guys' that drugged you, they were saying shit that made my skin crawl! I didn't even kiss you! I couldn't! I could barely breathe just for looking at you on our date; you looked just like a fucking angel. What did I say, Honey? What did I say?" Honey reached over and grabbed her phone, flipping through her photo album to a screenshot taken shortly before she blocked his number. "You didn't say it; you texted it. I remember watching you leave for the restroom thinking I'd met the love of my life and then you sent me this; she said, handing her phone to him. Zach took the phone, his face going from an angry red to pale horror in a matter of seconds. "This; this; he gasped, "I didn't; send this; to you; he said, shaking his head. "Whoever had your phone did, sir!" she said, emphasizing the last word, making him wince. "I spent the last year thinking you wanted to do that to me; to kill me. Every time I felt you watching me, every crowd I saw you show up in, every dark room I had to go into, that's what I thought about. I thought that a man I was head over heels about; that I could be so wrong about him. So, excuse me for thinking I liked you, sir. I promise it won't ever happen again!" Honey cried herself to sleep that night, refusing to speak to, or even look at Zach again. When she awoke, the bedroom was empty, and a glass of water and a pain pill were waiting on the nightstand. After swallowing the pill, she stared at the ceiling, furious. She didn't want to be there anymore, to be helpless and dependent on him, to obey all his stupid rules. He didn't deserve to take care of her. So, she tightened the straps on her boot and increased the air pressure to hold her broken ankle tightly enough to walk without her crutches. Then, she took off Zach's t-shirt, pulled on her elf dress, and called herself an Uber. It was when she saw the anticipated arrival time of 8 minutes that she realized her mistake. There was no way for her to get down from the loft and out of the apartment quietly in that amount of time. If she used the crutches, she would be able to descend the stairs quickly enough, but they made such a distinctive clicking racket that they would surely wake up her gorilla-like guard. If she hopped down the stairs on her good foot, it might have worked, but her good arm was on the opposite side and she kept losing her balance. Eventually she decided on the most painful course, of going down on her good and bad legs, using her good arm for support. Her boot thunked horribly the first few times, until she got the hang of it and could place it more quietly on the next step and then hop her good foot down to support it before the scream inside her could escape her lips. By the time she reached the bottom, though, she was shaking with pain and exhausted. Curiosity forced her to look around the rest of the apartment as she caught her breath, sitting on the bottom step. It was clean and unmistakably masculine. Exercise equipment took up a lot of the space not already claimed by a leather couch and TV arrangement. Zach lay on the couch, made up with sheets to act as a bed, his feet sticking out over the arm, his hand tucked under the back of his head, his chest rising and falling under the rumpled sheet. If she wasn't so angry, she'd find him handsome; or maybe he still was handsome, she thought grudgingly, closing her eyes miserably and looking away. Why couldn't he be ugly? Life wasn't fair. Uber. Right. Screwing up her courage for what was ahead, she stood and slowly hobbled across the hardwood floor, agonizing over every painful thump and noisy squeak until she finally reached the door. She unlocked the five locks on his large door, each of them being well-oiled and working perfectly. She expected no less of her anal-retentive, grey-skivvies-on-Tuesdays captor. Finally, she tugged open the heavy door to find endless flights of icy steel-mesh stairs leading all the way down to the street where her Uber was waiting. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me; she cried, breaking down into tears. A strong arm slid down around her waist and mercifully shifted her weight off her throbbing foot, "I know. It sucks. You should try it with a rucksack full of bricks," Zach said, leaning his head down and breathing into her hair. "I want to go home," she whispered. "Let me take care of you; please," Zach murmured into the top of her head, "I; it was my fault this happened to you. I scared you, I know that now; but, please believe me that I would never want to hurt or frighten you like that." "It wasn't just that text," she said, pulling her head away and looking up at him angrily. "All year, I never had a moment's peace. Even when I couldn't see you, I could feel you waiting in the quiet or dark places. Even if you weren't there;" "I was there," he confessed. "I was always there. I didn't understand what had gone wrong. You didn't want to talk to me, and the world just didn't make sense to me unless I knew where you were, what you were doing; unless I knew you were safe." "Maybe you knew I was safe, but I didn't! I thought I'd done something; that somehow I deserved to have this beautiful, scary monster hunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd done to destroy something that was so; wonderful." "You didn't do anything, Honey. Nothing at all. You were perfect. You were so perfect that I couldn't keep; you didn't do anything wrong. I never meant to send you that message; please, please believe me." "Why did you send it?" she asked, finally looking up into his eyes. The dark blue liquid pools of her eyes turned violet in the moonlight, and Zach felt a tightening in his chest. "I; I can't tell you that; but it was never meant for you." "You mean, you meant to send that message to someone else? To hurt them like that?" "Honey, I; Zach said, looking around, unable to meet her eyes, "Please, I can't; you wouldn't understand; my life isn't like that anymore." "I want to go home, Zach; please," she whispered. Zach closed his eyes for a long moment before he swallowed and nodded, looking like he was in more pain than she was. "I'll take you home tomorrow, okay? Or Terry will, if you don't want me to. He'll check the place out, make sure you're set up and safe there. You're tired, you're hurting, and your Uber's gone, now. Let me take you back upstairs and you can go in the morning. Please." At that moment, a throb of pain shot through her entire leg, and as angry as Honey was, she knew she couldn't face her empty apartment without a few more hours of rest. "Okay," she whispered. To be continued in part 2, Based on a post by Lingering Afterthought, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

O LoGGadoCast está no ar! E nesta edição, Edu Sacer, Leo Oliveira, Márcio Zanon e Mandy Aguiar relembrar seus melhores e piores do ano na música, nos filmes e nas séries! Para ouvir, dê o play, aumente o volume e deixe seu feedback nos comentários!Comentado no Cast:14:21 - Música43:27 - Filmes01:57:50 - Séries03:00:50 - Comentários03:16:08 - DespedidasLinks Relacionados:Apoie pelo Pix: contatologgado@gmail.comApoie no PatreonLoGGado no TelegramLoGGado no InstagramLoGGado no BlueskySeriadores AnônimosCompre AQUI os livros de Leozio!Arquivo de Episódios do LoGGadinLoGGadoCast 482 – O Segredo do Papai Noel, CCXP 2025, Ilhados com a Sogra, Os Abandonados e muito maisMande sua barra para o S.A.D.OBS: trilha do episódio sem copyrights

Siga nosso canal de CORTES: https://www.youtube.com/@IconografiadaHistoria-cortesAJUDE-NOS A MANTER O CANAL ICONOGRAFIA DA HISTÓRIA: Considere apoiar nosso trabalho, participar de sorteios e garantir acesso ao nosso grupo de Whatsapp exclusivo: https://bit.ly/apoiaoidhSe preferir, faz um PIX: https://bit.ly/PIXidhSiga ICONOGRAFIA DA HISTÓRIA em todas as redes: https://linktr.ee/iconografiadahistoriaoficialSiga o JOEL PAVIOTTI: https://bit.ly/joelpaviottiApresentação: Joel PaviottiTexto e roteirização: Fernando ZenerattoRevisão: Adriana de PaulaCâmera e produção: Fernando ZenerattoEdição: Fernando ZenerattoDireção: Fernando Zeneratto

Chegou o momento do nosso cartão sonoro de fim de ano.A mensagem que você vai ouvir foi produzida por um grupo de estudantes do 4º semestre de Publicidade e Propaganda do Centro Universitário FAAP, a partir da criação de um piloto de podcast para a marca Ferrero. O Doce Natal de KinderinoNeste episódio especial de fim de ano, você visita Kinderlândia, uma ilha mágica feita de chocolate, onde vive o pequeno e generoso Kinderino. Às vésperas do Natal, ele recebe um chamado urgente do Papai Noel: os presentes das crianças desapareceram e é preciso encontrar uma solução rapidamente. Em uma jornada marcada por sonhos, cansaço e descobertas, Kinderino aprende que até uma pequena ideia pode se transformar em uma grande saída, quando se trabalha em equipe.Ao reunir seus primos e amigos, personagens inspirados no universo da Ferrero, a história revela que a verdadeira magia do Natal não está no tamanho dos presentes, mas na amizade, no trabalho em equipe e na esperança compartilhada. Entre risadas, esforço coletivo e momentos de descanso merecido, o conto se transforma em um convite afetuoso à escuta e à reflexão.Mais do que um episódio narrativo, este podcast funciona como um cartão sonoro de Natal: uma mensagem delicada que lembra que amor, solidariedade e união são os presentes mais doces que podemos oferecer. Capítulos:00:00 Sobre a criação do audioconto de Natal00:35 Conto de Natal "Kinderino em Um Doce Natal"07:43 Encerramento e ficha técnicaIntegrantes do grupo: Amanda Encinas LeiteClara Viel Faro Laura Nogueira PapyLorenzo Mansur BonomiMaria Alice Pires Benevides GadelhaMaria Luíza Casellato de Castro PetianFicha Técnica:Roteiro: Amanda, Laura e MaluProdução Sonora: Clara e MaluVozes:Maria Alice – narraçãoLorenzo – KinderinoLaura – Choco, Tronky e BuenoMalu – JoyParticipação especial de Vinícius Barbosa de Lima, como Papai NoelGravação e edição: Sérgio ZannotiProdução e Direção de todo o grupoOrientação: Marcelo Abud, para a matéria Produção Sonora Aplicada

Histórias assustadoras de Natal foi o tema do último LendaCast Solo do ano! Li relatos que fazem até o Papai Noel e seus ajudantes ficarem com medo.

Casa do Papai Noel, presépios, encenações e a musicalidade invadiram o cenário de 1/3 das cidades turísticas do estado de São Paulo, de acordo com um levantamento realizado pela Secretaria de Turismo e Viagens do Estado de São Paulo (Setur-SP) com os 645 municípios paulistas. As atividades estão previstas até janeiro e são gratuitas ou podem ser acessadas mediante a ingresso solidário, com doação de um quilo de alimento.

O LoGGadoCast está no ar! E nesta edição, Edu Sacer, Leo Oliveira, Márcio Zanon e Mandy Aguiar comentam as últimas novidades da TV, cinema e streaming! Para ouvir, dê o play, aumente o volume e deixe seu feedback nos comentários!Comentado no Cast:02:29 - Notícias e Amenidades01:51:32 - Corrida das Blogueiras02:08:11 - Percy Jackson e os Olimpianos02:16:33 - Os Abandonados02:24:10 - Quer Brincar de Grace Darling?02:34:55 - Culte 2be302:44:15 - Ilhados com a Sogra02:53:26 - A Vida Secreta das Esposas Mórmons03:03:58 - Um Natal Surreal03:10:33 - O Segredo do Papai Noel03:23:23 - Comentários03:41:34 - DespedidasLinks Relacionados:Apoie pelo Pix: contatologgado@gmail.comApoie no PatreonLoGGado no TelegramLoGGado no InstagramLoGGado no BlueskySeriadores AnônimosCompre AQUI os livros de Leozio!Arquivo de Episódios do LoGGadinLoGGadoCast 481- Stranger Things, Heated Rivalry, Feliz Assalto!, RuPaul's Drag Race UK e muito maisMande sua barra para o S.A.D.OBS: trilha do episódio sem copyrights

Conversas com as Entidades sobre temas diversos

Dezembro é um mês em que a atenção de todos se volta para o Natal...Sabemos que assim como outras datas de origem religiosa, o Natal ganhou um interesse e uma ênfase comercial e, com isso, o real sentido acaba se ocultando por detrás da intenção de lucrar e levar as pessoas ao consumo de adereços, comidas e produtos para presentear outros!A atenção está muito mais voltada para um evento do que para o nascimento ou a pessoa de Jesus, como aquele que veio ao mundo para salvar os pecadores.Por isso, é importante a Igreja insistir na reflexão acerca do real sentido do Natal e voltar-se para as Sagradas Escrituras a fim de manter nossa mente atenta ao fato de que o Salvador não pode ser menos importante que uma árvore, luzes e enfeites e nem substituído pela figura do Papai Noel. O texto que lemos nos desafia a pensar no ponto inicial do Natal. Enquanto ao lermos os Evangelhos de Mateus e Lucas, somos levados a mirar a manjedoura como o ponto inicial da vinda de Jesus ao mundo, João retrocede ao princípio de todas as coisas para, de forma profunda, nos fazer refletir que a salvação tem suas raízes na eternidade.#igrejabatista #igrejanaoelugar #reflexão #mensagemdenatal #natal

No podcast ‘Notícia No Seu Tempo’, confira em áudio as principais notícias da edição impressa do jornal ‘O Estado de S.Paulo’ desta quinta-feira (11/12/2025): O presidente Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva pretende vetar o trecho do projeto de lei que reduz as penas de condenados por investidas golpistas. Lula foi informado de que, além de manter a redução de penas aprovada na Câmara, uma ala do Senado deseja incluir a anistia no texto para livrar o ex-presidente Jair Bolsonaro (PL) da prisão. Se isso ocorrer, o projeto voltará para a Câmara e não haverá tempo para nova votação neste ano. Esperidião Amin (PP-SC), amigo e aliado de Bolsonaro, foi escolhido para ser relator da matéria no Senado. O senador disse que é a favor do perdão amplo, geral e irrestrito. Ele vai entregar parecer na quarta-feira. E mais: Economia: Inflação de 12 meses fica dentro da meta após IPCA de 0,18% em novembro Política: Gilmar atende Senado e recua em liminar sobre impeachment Internacional: Trump diz que EUA apreenderam petroleiro na costa da Venezuela Metrópole: Vendaval derruba até Papai Noel e deixa 2 milhões sem luz Esportes: Abel Ferreira renova contrato até o fim de 2027See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

No Arauto Repórter UNISC de hoje, você confere:IBGE encerra amanhã as inscrições para seleção temporária em Santa CruzChegada do Papai Noel vai marcar a primeira noite da ChristkindfestSanta Cruz realiza nova edição da Feira do Peixe neste fim de semanaEm destaque na segurança pública da região: Polícia avança em investigação sobre homicídio em residencial de Santa Cruz

No Arauto Repórter UNISC de hoje, você confere:IBGE encerra amanhã as inscrições para seleção temporária em Santa CruzChegada do Papai Noel vai marcar a primeira noite da ChristkindfestSanta Cruz realiza nova edição da Feira do Peixe neste fim de semanaEm destaque na segurança pública da região: Polícia avança em investigação sobre homicídio em residencial de Santa Cruz

Leitura Bíblica Do Dia: MATEUS 1:18-25 Plano De Leitura Anual: DANIEL 3–4; 1 JOÃO 5   Já fez seu devocional hoje? Aproveite e marque um amigo para fazer junto com você! Confira:  O homem conhecido hoje como São Nicolau nasceu por volta de 270 d.C. em uma rica família grega. Tragicamente, seus pais morreram quando era muito novo, e ele viveu com um tio, que o ensinou a seguir a Deus. Diz a lenda que, quando jovem, ele viu três irmãs que não tinham dote para o casamento e logo ficariam desamparadas. Querendo seguir o ensino de Jesus sobre ajudar aos necessitados, Nicolau usou sua herança dando a cada irmã um saco de moedas de ouro. Ao longo dos anos, usou o restante do dinheiro para alimentar os pobres e cuidar dos outros. Nicolau foi homenageado por sua generosidade e inspirou o personagem que hoje é chamado de “Papai Noel”. Embora a publicidade e o brilho possam ameaçar as nossas celebrações, a tradição de presentear permanece. A generosidade de Nicolau sustentava-se em sua devoção a Jesus e ele reconhecia que Cristo representava a generosidade inimaginável, trazendo-nos a dádiva mais profunda: Deus. Jesus é “Deus conosco” (MATEUS 1:23) e nos trouxe o dom da vida. Em um mundo de morte, Ele “[salva] seu povo dos seus pecados” (v.21) Quando cremos em Jesus, desenvolvemos a generosidade sacrificial. Atendemos às necessidades dos outros com alegria, assim como Deus nos provê. Essa é a história de Nicolau, mas mais do que isso, é uma história sobre o amor de Deus.  Por: WINN COLLIER 

Se você chegou até aqui cansado, parabéns: você está vivendo exatamente o tema deste episódio.Este episódio do Imagina Se Pega no Olho, a gente abre o coração (e as olheiras) para falar sobre esse esgotamento coletivo que tomou conta do calendário. Por que 2025 parece ter durado 17 meses? Por que estamos sempre correndo atrás de metas impossíveis? Será que o Byung-Chul Han estava certo quando disse que vivemos na “Sociedade do Cansaço”?A gente investiga a positividade tóxica, o burnout, a morte do descanso, a culpa de desligar o celular e, claro, o eterno vilão chamado capitalismo — tudo com humor, referências pop e aquela dose de sinceridade que dói, mas consola.Se o Papai Noel não vai levar o peso do ano embora, pelo menos este vídeo tenta. Então já chega cansado, mas chega.

Luanna Bernardes fala sobre o livro "Cartas do Papai Noel" de J.R.R. Tolkien, o mesmo autor de Senhor dos Anéis. A leitura é nessa época do ano.

A magia do Natal já começa a brilhar em Treviso. Com a aproximação do fim do ano, o município se prepara para realizar o Natal Encantado 2025, uma celebração especial que pretende reunir famílias em um dia repleto de emoção, cultura e espírito natalino. O evento acontecerá no domingo, 30 de novembro, na Praça Cavaleiro Benjamin Scussel, no Centro. A programação foi cuidadosamente elaborada pela Prefeitura para contemplar todas as idades. Desde atividades esportivas pela manhã até apresentações culturais ao longo da tarde e noite, o evento promete movimentar a cidade. Foodtrucks estarão disponíveis durante todo o dia, garantindo opções gastronômicas variadas ao público. Programação completa 08h – Pedala Treviso (evento ciclístico) 09h – Feira Livre 09h – Exposição e venda de artesanatos dos Agentes Culturais 14h – Brinquedos infláveis 15h – Apresentação das Crianças do CRAS 15h50 – Apresentação das Escolas Municipais 16h20 – Apresentação da Escola de Educação Básica Udo Deeke 16h40 – Coral da Igreja Evangélica Assembleia de Deus de Treviso 17h20 – Coral Trevisani 18h – Grupo da Terceira Idade da Proast 19h – Missa na Igreja Matriz 20h20 – Acendimento das luzes de Natal 20h30 – Chegada do Papai Noel 21h – Apresentação clássica com o pianista argentino Dani Rodriguez 21h30 – Show com a banda Os Guri O encerramento será marcado por música, emoção e o esperado acendimento das luzes natalinas, seguido da chegada do Papai Noel, momento tradicional que encanta crianças e adultos. O Natal Encantado 2025 é realizado pela Administração Municipal com apoio de entidades e grupos locais. Em entrevista ao Cruz de Malta Notícias 2ª Edição, na tarde desta sexta-feira, Elaine Salvador destacou o cuidado com cada detalhe da programação e reforçou o convite para que toda a comunidade participe da celebração.

A Prefeitura de São Ludgero promove, na sexta-feira, dia 28, a inauguração da Rua Coberta, um novo espaço urbanístico planejado para lazer, eventos e convívio comunitário. A cerimônia oficial inicia às 19 horas e reunirá apresentações culturais, o acendimento das luzes natalinas e a chegada especial do Papai Noel. A programação começa com a apresentação do Coral Municipal de São Ludgero e da Banda Marcial de Tubarão, marcando a abertura do evento. Em seguida, será realizado o acionamento oficial da decoração de Natal, iluminando o espaço e dando início ao clima natalino na cidade. Logo após, acontece o lançamento do Concurso Luzes de Natal 2025, incentivando moradores e empresas a participarem do embelezamento natalino do município. Encerrando a noite, o público poderá prestigiar um espetáculo musical da Camerata Florianópolis, que promete emocionar e celebrar este momento histórico para São Ludgero. Em entrevista ao Cruz de Malta Notícias desta quarta-feira (26) o prefeito Paulo Sérgio Lorenzetti destacou a importância da obra para a cidade e convidou para a inauguração.

No Comentário Final de hoje, Ricardo Spinosa destacou o lançamento oficial do LondriNatal 2025, apresentado pelo prefeito Tiago Amaral, que promete uma transformação completa na festa deste ano. Entre as novidades estão ônibus gratuitos para visitar pontos iluminados, roda-gigante no Calçadão, atrações na Saul Elkind, competição de enfeites e, claro, o aguardado Papai Noel flutuante de 27 metros, que pode entrar para o Guinness. Spinosa ressaltou o pedido do prefeito para que a própria população participe, enfeitando casas, prédios e comércios, para fazer da cidade uma verdadeira festa de luzes.#ComentarioFinal #RicardoSpinosa #LondriNatal2025 #Londrina #Natal #TiagoAmaral #DecoraçãoDeNatal #Evento #Guinness

Neste sábado, dia 15 de novembro, o Boulevard Shopping Brasília dá início à sua temporada natalina com a chegada do Papai Noel e show do grupo Bento e Totó e Broadway Show.

Até o início de dezembro , Crianças podem enviar e adultos adotar uma cartinha do Papai Noel dos Correios.

Neste sábado, 08 de novembro, o Papai Noel desembarca no Lago Norte, no Iguatemi Brasília, trazendo a magia do natal.

De onde surgem nossos desejos? Para desejar algo é preciso saber que esse algo existe, e é por isso que o cinema, a literatura e principalmente a propaganda são fábricas de desejos. Dos pelos femininos à vontade de uma bebida gelada, contamos histórias de como a propaganda nos apresentou soluções - logo depois de inventar o problema.Este é mais um episódio do Escuta Essa, podcast semanal em que Denis e Danilo trocam histórias de cair o queixo e de explodir os miolos. Todas as quartas-feiras, no seu agregador de podcasts favorito, é a vez de um contar um causo para o outro.Não deixe de enviar os episódios do Escuta Essa para aquela pessoa com quem você também gosta de compartilhar histórias e aproveite para mandar seus comentários e perguntas no Spotify, nas redes sociais, ou no e-mail escutaessa@aded.studio. A gente sempre lê mensagens no final de cada episódio!...NESTE EPISÓDIO•⁠ ⁠O filósofo Slavoj Zizek diz que o cinema ensina a desejar em seu filme "O Guia Pervertido do Cinema".•⁠ ⁠A Gillette passou a vender para o público feminino em 1915 após uma bem sucedida campanha de marketing.•⁠ ⁠Listerine passou a ser usado para o hálito após a marca popularizar o termo "halitose".•⁠ ⁠Diamantes passaram a ser associados a alianças após uma campanha de marketing da De Beers.•⁠ ⁠Madame Bovary é um romance de 1856 escrito por Gustave Flaubert.•⁠ ⁠"Bovarismo Brasileiro" é uma coletânea de ensaios da psicanalista Maria Rita Kehl.•⁠ ⁠"Ilustríssima Conversa" é um podcast de entrevistas da Folha de S. Paulo.•⁠ ⁠A Coca-Cola mudou completamente a imagem do Papai Noel com suas propagandas.•⁠ ⁠"A Costa do Mosquito" é um filme de 1986 sobre um inventor que resolve se isolar da civilização....AD&D STUDIOA AD&D produz podcasts e vídeos que divertem e respeitam sua inteligência! Acompanhe todos os episódios em aded.studio para não perder nenhuma novidade.

Neste sábado, o bom velhinho aterrissa no Venâncio Shopping para abertura do natal com uma programação artística encantadora.

Na roda com Porchat, estão Ceará, Raquel Real e Jovane Nunes. Na plateia, Luiz Carlos relembra um vídeo que fez sua carreira de Papai Noel naufragar.

Natal. Dia das Bruxas. Primeiro de Abril. Dia dos Namorados. Nenhuma data comemorativa é sagrada para o cinema de horror. Seja comemorando com seu amor, esperando a chegada do Papai Noel ou orquestrando uma pegadinha de primeiro de abril, você sempre está à mercê de um violento e sangrento roteiro de horror. Passando por clássicos como Halloween até o mais recente Heart Eyes, hoje o RdMCast viaja por alguns filmes ambientados em datas comemorativas para homenagear toda a sua criatividade e ousadia. Entre brincadeiras mortais, coelhinhos da Páscoa macabros e solteiros reivindicando respeito, embarque conosco por essa jornada repleta de filmes e momentos memoráveis. Só se lembre que nada nem ninguém está seguro e que você pode ser o próximo.O RdMCast é produzido e apresentado por: Gabi Larocca, Thiago Natário e Gabriel Braga.Apoie o RdM e receba recompensas exclusivas: https://apoia.se/rdmCITADOS NO PROGRAMA:Noite do Terror (1974)Halloween (1978)Dia dos Namorados Macabro (1981)Natal Sangrento (1984)A Noite das Brincadeiras Mortais (1986)Contos do Dia das Bruxas (2007)Dia dos Namorados Macabro (2009)The Blackening: Jogo Mortal (2022)Holidays (2016)Feriado Sangrento (2023)Heart Eyes (2025)Citações off topic:Krampus – O Terror do Natal (2015)Noite Infeliz (2022)Canibais (2013)Desejo de Matar (2018)Bata Antes de Entrar (2015)Jejum de Amor (1940)EPISÓDIOS CITADOS:RdMCast #250 – a História do Horror SlasherRdMCast #265 – Franquia Halloween: as inúmeras vezes que ele voltou pra casaRdMCast #267 – Embate Bruxas: Abracadabra vs Convenção das BruxasRdMCast #269 – Contos do Dia das BruxasRdMCast #224 – Especial de NatalRdMCast – #204 Minority ReportRdMCast #340 – Embate Terrir: A Morte Te Dá Parabéns X FreakyCabana RdM #42 – Dezesseis Facadas: de volta para 1987RdMCast #334 – De volta a Woodsboro: o novo PânicoRdMCast #394 – Pânico VI: Ghostface ataca em Nova YorkSiga o RdMYoutube: https://www.youtube.com/c/Rep%C3%BAblicadoMedoInstagram: @republicadomedoTwitter: @RdmcastEntre em contato através do: contato@republicadomedo.com.brPODCAST EDITADO PORFelipe LourençoESTÚDIO GRIM – Design para conteúdo digitalPortfólio: https://estudiogrim.com.br/Instagram: @estudiogrimContato: contato@estudiogrim.com.br

Neste episódio, contamos a história dos desaparecimentos misteriosos ocorridos em Toronto entre 2010 e 2018. Uma série de homens desapareceu sem deixar rastros, todos conectados ao bairro conhecido como Gay Village. Após anos de investigação, duas forças-tarefas descobriram que procuravam um único suspeito: Bruce McArthur. Conhecido como um jardineiro simpático e popular na comunidade, ele até mesmo interpretava o Papai Noel em um shopping local. No entanto, por trás dessa imagem amigável, escondia-se um dos assassinos em série mais cruéis da história de Toronto.

Bom dia, boa tarde e/ou boa noite! Desculpe pela bagunça, mas é de forma lendária (e urbana) que apresentamos para vocês mais um episódio do pior podcast do mundo! Dessa vez viemos falar de histórias que um tio do vizinho do irmão de um primo bastardo da tia da amiga de um conhecido do cunhado de Wesley Zoppe nos contou. E é de uma fonte tão fidedigna que filosofamos  tentando responder perguntas como: Quem é o Papai Noel nas noites? O que fazer quando se está estressado? Como reconhecer um lobisomem? Por quê Roberto Carlos chora ao passar por Barretos (SP)? Doações: pix@xorume.com.br

O Fronteiras no Tempo: Giro Histórico em seu 35º episódio traz, na voz de Willian Spengler, a história dos ataques a Rovaniemi, na Finlândia, que hoje é conhecida como a terra do Papai Noel, que foi um dos alvos da operação Barbarossa na 2ª Guerra Mundial. Na sequência C. A. faz a retrospectiva do Fronteiras no Tempo em 2024, ano que o podcast completou 10 anos. Artes do episódio: Augusto Carvalho Mencionado no Episódio Como Rovaniemi, na Finlândia, renasceu das cinzas até virar a terra do Papai Noel A Batalha da Lapônia Financiamento Coletivo Existem duas formas de nos apoiar Pix recorrente – chave: fronteirasnotempo@gmail.com Apoia-se – https://apoia.se/fronteirasnotempo INSCREVA-SE PARA PARTICIPAR DO HISTORICIDADE O Historicidade é o programa de entrevistas do Fronteiras no Tempo: um podcast de história. O objetivo principal é realizar divulgação científica na área de ciências humanas, sociais e de estudos interdisciplinares com qualidade. Será um prazer poder compartilhar o seu trabalho com nosso público. Preencha o formulário se tem interesse em participar. Link para inscrição: https://forms.gle/4KMQXTmVLFiTp4iC8 Selo saberes históricos Agora o Fronteiras no Tempo tem o selo saberes históricos. O que é este selo? “O Selo Saberes Históricos é um sinal de reconhecimento atribuído a:● Práticas de divulgação de saberes ou produções de conteúdo histórico ou historiográfico● Realizadas em redes sociais ou mídias digitais, voltadas para públicos mais amplos e diversificados● Comprometidas com valores científicos e éticos.”Saiba mais: https://www.forumsabereshistoricos.com/ Redes Sociais Twitter, Facebook, Youtube, Instagram Contato fronteirasnotempo@gmail.com Como citar esse episódio Fronteiras no Tempo: Giro Histórico #35 Nazistas vs Papai Noel e Retrospectiva 2024. Locução Cesar Agenor Fernandes da Silva e Willian Spengler. [S.l.] Portal Deviante, 30/12/2024. Podcast. Disponível em: https://www.deviante.com.br/?p=64158&preview=true Expediente Produção Geral, Host e Edição: C. A. Arte do Episódio: Augusto Carvalho Madrinhas e Padrinhos Apoios a partir de 12 de junho de 2024 Alexsandro de Souza Junior, Aline Silva Lima, André Santos, André Trapani, Andréa Gomes da Silva, Andressa Marcelino Cardoso, Augusto Carvalho, Carolina Pereira Lyon, Charles Calisto Souza, Elisnei Menezes de Oliveira, Erick Marlon Fernandes da Silva, Flávio Henrique Dias Saldanha, Gislaine Colman, Iara Grisi, João Ariedi, João Luiz Farah Rayol Fontoura, Juliana Zweifel, Klaus Henrique de Oliveira, Manuel Macias, Marlon Fernandes da Silva, Pedro Júnior Coelho da Silva Nunes, Rafael Henrique Silva, Raul Sousa Silva Junior, Renata de Souza Silva, Ricardo Orosco, Rodrigo Mello Campos, Rubens Lima e Willian SpenglerSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Último "Missão PodDelas" do ano!

O Massacre de Covina ocorreu em 24 de dezembro de 2008 em Covina, uma cidade nos subúrbios de Los Angeles, na Califórnia. Nove pessoas foram mortas por tiros ou pelo incêndio criminoso dentro de uma casa onde uma festa de Natal era realizada.  Instagram: @erikamirandas e @casosreaisoficial https://casosreaispodcast.com.br/ Link do Apoia.se: https://apoia.se/casosreais Roteiro: Lucas Andries Edição: Publi.tv - Produtora de vídeos

Você acredita em Papai Noel? Sim? A Estrela também.  Mas sabia que nem todos acreditam? Que polêmica, não é? Nesta história divertidíssima, cada personagem apresenta a sua visão sobre o Bom Velhinho, um amigo que Estrela sonha tanto em encontrar. Escrito por Natália Schimpf, ilustrado por Rodolfo Melo e publicado pela editora Depois da Chuva. Para acompanhar a história juntamente com as ilustrações do livro, compre o livro aqui: https://editoradepoisdachuva.lojavirtualnuvem.com.br/produtos/crerounaocrer/   Se voce gostou, compartilhe com seus amigos e me siga nas redes sociais! https://www.instagram.com/bookswelove_livrosqueamamos/   E fiquem ligados, porque toda sexta-feira publico uma nova história. Até mais!

Continuando a nossa maratona de Natal de 2024, falaremos neste episódio sobre o filme e o livro O Expresso Polar, que completou 20 anos em 2024. Esse filme de animação traz uma história bonita e que toca crianças e adultos de maneiras diferentes, ampliando o conteúdo original que está no livro.    Neste episódio, Domenica recebe Cal Cruz do Terror sem Medo para juntas embarcarem no Expresso Polar, compartilhando sobre suas tradições de Natal, desde sua infância até hoje, além de analisarem esse filme e refletindo com profundidade sobre o que ele apresenta. Será que você ainda ouve os guizos do Papai Noel? Talvez depois desse episódio você volte a ouvir, conta pra gente nos comentários! Bom episódio e bom dezembro!Recomendações:Terror Sem Medo - PodcastTerror Sem Medo #083 - Maníaco do ParqueApresentação: Domenica Mendes e Cal CruzPauta: Domenica MendesProdução: Domenica MendesAssistente: Leonardo TremeschinEdição: Leonardo Tremeschin

Começando a nossa maratona de Natal de 2024, falaremos neste episódio sobre o filme Papai Noel das Cavernas - também conhecido como Natal Bizarro - ou, se preferir, Rare Exports. O filme finlandês de terror natalino está disponível para você assistir gratuitamente e dublado na plataforma do Mercado Play.   Neste episódio, Domenica recebe Angélica Hellish do Masmorra Cine para juntas analisarem esse filme singular e viciante. Na primeira parte do episódio, elas falam sobre mitologia do Natal e como a cultura é diferente em outros lugares do mundo, além de compartilhar boas histórias sobre suas memórias natalinas e, é claro, apresentar o filme para quem não conhece. Em um segundo momento, elas mergulham em Papai Noel das Cavernas, trazendo suas análises sobre a crítica que o filme traz e como ele é espetacular, merecendo ser visto. Bom episódio e bom dezembro!Recomendações:Curta 2003 - Father Christmas (Rare Exports) Curta 2005 - The Official Rare Exports Inc Safety Instructions (Rare Exports)Podtrash 225 - Rare ExportsApresentação: Domenica Mendes e Angélica HellishPauta: Domenica MendesProdução: Domenica MendesAssistente: Leonardo TremeschinEdição: Ace Barros

Que idade você tinha quando deixou de acreditar em Papai Noel? O coelhinho da Páscoa? O Saci Pererê? Aquele personagem infantil? E como as crianças lidam com todas essas crenças, segundo a ciência?Confira o papo entre o leigo curioso, Ken Fujioka, e o cientista PhD, Altay de Souza.> OUÇA (51min 57s)*Naruhodo! é o podcast pra quem tem fome de aprender. Ciência, senso comum, curiosidades, desafios e muito mais. Com o leigo curioso, Ken Fujioka, e o cientista PhD, Altay de Souza.Edição: Reginaldo Cursino.http://naruhodo.b9.com.br*REFERÊNCIASPost-January 6th deplatforming reduced the reach of misinformation on Twitterhttps://www.nature.com/articles/s41586-024-07524-8Scientific and religious beliefs are primarily shaped by testimonyhttps://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1364661324001128?dgcid=authorChildren's Understanding of Representational Change and Its Relation to the Understanding of False Belief and the Appearance-Reality Distinctionhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/1130386Acting and planning on the basis of a false belief: its effects on 3-year-old children's reasoning about their own false beliefs.https://www.semanticscholar.org/paper/Acting-and-planning-on-the-basis-of-a-false-belief%3A-Atance-O%27Neill/e954d5c4663a67aca6b272e08e2d99d6ff31b873?p2dfMetamorphosis and magic: The development of children's thinking about possible events and plausible mechanisms.https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2000-08766-003How to Pass the False-Belief Task Before Your Fourth Birthdayhttps://journals.sagepub.com/doi/pdf/10.1177/0956797612447819The permanence of mental objects: testing magical thinking on perceived and imaginary realitieshttps://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/15769187/Magical thinking in judgments of causation: Can anomalous phenomena affect ontological causal beliefs in children and adults?https://bpspsychub.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1348/026151004772901140Naruhodo #413 - Como sabemos se uma coisa é causa de outra?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=335oKVAm99YNaruhodo #177 - Por que criamos amigos imaginários?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1uERKcVNJvgNaruhodo #259 - Por que as coisas parecem óbvias depois que passamos por elas? - Parte 1 de 2https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fsgAdq_iu-ANaruhodo #260 - Por que as coisas parecem óbvias depois que passamos por elas? - Parte 2 de 2https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWTaLWjT-ZUNaruhodo #378 - Por que avisos de perigo não são seguidos?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKabJ3lQOHUNaruhodo #362 - Reconhecer-se no espelho é sinal de consciência de si?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYFYSiz6-lMNaruhodo #67 - Como funciona o cérebro quando conversamos com nós mesmos?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUL7R2z3dLw*APOIE O NARUHODO PELA PLATAFORMA ORELO!O podcast Naruhodo está no Orelo: bit.ly/naruhodo-no-oreloE é por meio dessa plataforma de apoio aos criadores de conteúdo que você ajuda o Naruhodo a se manter no ar.Você escolhe um valor de contribuição mensal e tem acesso a conteúdos exclusivos, conteúdos antecipados e vantagens especiais.Além disso, você pode ter acesso ao nosso grupo fechado no Telegram, e conversar comigo, com o Altay e com outros apoiadores.E não é só isso: toda vez que você ouvir ou fizer download de um episódio pelo Orelo, vai também estar pingando uns trocadinhos para o nosso projeto.Então, baixe agora mesmo o app Orelo no endereço Orelo.CC ou na sua loja de aplicativos e ajude a fortalecer o conhecimento científico.bit.ly/naruhodo-no-orelo