#i looked at pictures of myself when i was younger and i think that triggered whatever the fuck this is

[snowyvoid]

anyone else just have like. every 5 years or so you remember you are a real human being and the things that you do do matter. and im not just some fictional character in somenes head. and i feel physically sick from the amount that it distresses me. but the part that makes me feel even worse is the idea, the fact that i did not feel in contact with reality in the first place. i think i may have really bad derealisation issues

[v3nusxsky]

Aaa I loved the Larissa x Lesso fic! Could you please write a fic where it's late at night and Lesso's refusing to sleep because she has to do paperwork and Larissa is trying to force her to sleep? Could be smut or fluff it's up to you!

Distractions

*authors note~ I absolutely adore writing for these two women, and on that note, Happy valentines to everyone*

Trigger warnings~ smutty stress relief bratty subby Leo dom mommy Larissa praise kink teasing nudes being sent, masturbation degrading kink, body writing orgasms denial if you squint, use of safe words cause we love consent use of toys restraints the heel of her foot 🫨 dom drop! after care etc

Prompt~see ask^^^^^

Larissa Weems likes things to be on a schedule, to plan her day and leave just a little time in her day to relax. Normally that consists of her red headed wife curling her body into Larissa’s as they just relax on their bed. It’s Larissa’s favourite part of her day and makes waking up early the next morning bearable at most. Only recently Wednesday Addams has got in the way of this time by causing no end of mischief equating into a lot of late nights in her off sorting out the paperwork. Tonight was the first night that Wednesday hadn’t been up to her usual antics and Larissa would have to remember to thank Miss Sinclair for that. No tonight, it seemed her wife was going off her schedule.

Living at Nevermore with Larissa was easy for Leonora, to leave the school for good and evil and pass her title down to someone younger and ready for the challenge. Clarissa Dovey doing the same a few weeks prior to the red head meant Lenora could plan her move. Now a year later she had married her blonde principle and even got to teach at Nevermore for potions. Life being ever so perfect now, until Wednesday came. Now Leonora has no ill wishes to the child, but with Wednesday came Mortica. And that was someone Leonora would have no issues taking to her old doom room for a private chat. However, it’s not what Larissa wants so she stays just on the tail end of civil for her wife. That being said, recently Larissa has been too busy, they hardly see each other anymore so if acting up was going to get her attention then Lesso wouldn’t shy away from the challenge.

The plan was simple, she’d ignore Larissa for a while, it shouldn’t be that hard to drown herself into her marking. If all went to plan they’d be reconciling with one another before the nights out. What Leo didn’t count on was Larissa catching onto her little plan and deciding to play the red head at her own game.

From Larissa hinting at her wife it was time to head to the bedroom from the door way, to some fluffy texts promising kisses and cuddles, to some flirty texts. Leonora was staying strong. It didn’t matter that Larissa had offered what seemed to be a perfect night because Leonora had other plans. That’s when the small ding of her phone brought the woman out of thought.

“Darling🩵” would only be one person and that one person was in the room next to her, so why on earth would she be texting Leonora? A quick glance at the small screen showed and image that was simply heavenly to look at. Larissa adorning an emerald skimpy set of lace that was showing the perfect amount of skin to drive Leonora insane. The set happened to be one of her favourites on her wife. With no response came another picture, this time Larissa adorned a pale blue set which showed more than the first and a hand teasing her right bud, her face just out of view. God damn this woman and her ability to leave Leonora stunned. As her brain tried to form a witty response another text came in.

“If only I had my good little slut on her knees enjoying pleasing mommy”

“Well looks like you’re not interested so I’ll have to do the job myself dove”

Thinking nothing of her threats and a staying strong Lesso ignored all of this until another message came, only this time a video. Hitting play Lesso quickly felt her jaw drop to the floor, Larissa lay there in scraps of deep purple lace hardly covering anything, phone pointed up towards the mirrors that showed all the sinful things she was doing to herself as Lesso sat in the other room. Instinct had the red head making her way to their bedroom just as Larissa mewled out in pleasure.

Panting as she came back from her high Larissa was relieved to see her little show didn’t go to waste at all, half the battle was won, Leonora was now in the room and had turned to lock the door. Unsuspecting falling deeper into the trap Larissa had set. “Nice of you to join me darling” the blonde purred from the bed as she lazily licked her fingers that were coated with her juices.

“I-you pretty fuck” stuttered out of her wife causing a proud smirk to adorn Larissa’s lips. “If I’m so pretty darling, then you would’ve come to bed when I asked you to, instead you ignored mommy. What is the rule my girl?”

“Listen to mommy, look after myself for mommy, communicate emotions” she rambled off not knowing she’s accidentally broken more than one rule here. “And yet you broke all three didn’t you darling? You ignored me, you most certainly aren’t getting enough sleep by working yourself so hard and you definitely didn’t tell me how much the whole Addams situation is bothering you, did you?”

Silence and the slight drop in her wife’s head showed Larissa everything she needed to know. Leonora would submit, but it would be a fight as well. One that she was well prepared for. “Noting to say slut? Or did you just break these rules to get fucked?” Again silence followed so Larissa took the time to strip and tie the red head into her place of kneeling at the bedside. “I’ll get you to talk don’t you fret little girl, you know the rule? Mommy cums first”

And with that Larissa took her time to build herself back up to her height of pleasure while Leonora was forced to see everything in the mirror and listen to Larissa pleading for more. These stupid ties prevented any movement from her meaning the only way she would get to touch her wife is by backing down. Without realising it, she’d began to grind down against her heel, effectively soaking her heel and the floor at the sight of her wife riding out her second orgasm of the night.

“I thought you’d be a good girl for mommy Leo, but you’ve made a mess of my floor” Larissa mocked, “are you ready to behave now darling?”

“Fuck no! You ignored me all week! And now you think you get to remember and just try to punish me for no reason! This is fucking stupid Larissa. I didn’t do anything wrong but give you a taste of you own damn medicine, yet you get to look all sexy on the bed, a goddess at this point, while I’m just the lowly whore on my knees for you!” Lesso raged angry tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Check in”

“Emerald but”

“But what dove?”

“I’m sorry i didn’t mean that it’s just I missed you and now I-“

Larissa stood up to immediately untie her wife and settle her across her lap, face down, ass up. “Why are you here sweet girl?” She murmured rubbing slow circles on Leonora’s back. “Cause I broke rules” she muttered unhappily. “You did indeed my sweet girl, I understand why darling and we will talk about that later, but you don’t get to throw a fit like that” Larissa argued firmly before a couple of test strikes rained across Leonora’s backside. “How many love?”

“5 for each rule, I’m sorry mommy” guilt soaked her words now.

Larissa knows her wife’s body better than anyone else, knowing that it would take exactly seven strikes to have the red head ready to break, thirteen to have her broken down. So it was surprising that she began to cry out her apologises on strike ten.

“Shh sweet girl you’re done, all done, such a good girl for mommy aren’t you darling? All done now love” Larissa murmured readjusting her hiccuping wife in her lap. “Need 5 more” she whimpered causing Larissa to shake her head, “all done for that part darling okay? Check in with mommy please”

“Topaz” her voice wobbled as her sobs began to rise again, “I’m sorry mommy! I didn’t mean to make you stop early, I’m sorry I want to be good just no more spanks please.”

“No more spanks sweetheart, perhaps we can do something different instead of the 5 spanks hmm? Do you trust me Leo?”

“Mmhmm”

“Then go lay down darling get comfy in the middle of the bed I promise you’ll like this.”

Lesso quickly scurried to do as she was asked bring carful of her sore behind and waiting patiently for her wife. When Larissa reappeared to straddle her wife she uncapped a purple pen. “Five words, you don’t wash this off until mommy says so okay?” To which the woman nodded, she always loved wearing any marks Larissa left her with and purple was always so pretty on her skin. The other bonus was of course Larissa had body safe markers. Then Larissa began to write her chosen words on lesso chest stomach and thighs. “Dirty girl, “Bratty baby”, “Pretty whore”, “Mommys slut” and “Little whore” now adorned her body in Larissa’s beautiful penmanship. “Now sweet girl we are all done. Can mommy make you feel good sweetheart?” Consent given Larissa proceeded to provide the red head with the most toe curling orgasm she has ever experienced combining her fingers and little vibrator on her clit.

Next thing Leonora knew Larissa was gently cleaning her messy thighs, gently rolling the redhead over to apply cream to both ass cheeks in a generous amount before fetching a bottle of water and a small snack for them both. “My love? Do you need anything else?”

“No thank you Rissa”

“I’m sorry darling, I was rather harsh tonight, I’m sorry I haven’t been around love, I’ve missed you so much too. All I want is to spend some time with my wife but apparently this school has other ideas recently. I love you with all my heart please know that Leo” the emotion choked the blonde up causing her to go tense beneath Lesso.

“I know dearest. Thank you for tonight Rissa. And this now too, you listened to me when I used my safe words, Rissa that is everything and more and you even listened to my body when I didn’t know what I wanted. You helped me let my pent up emotions go darling, now I’m all light again. Thanks to my lovely wife. I’m okay my love I promise.”

“I hurt you Leo! I hurt my wife” Larissa sobbed attempting to turn away and curl in on herself. She didn’t know why this was happening or that Leonora was now comforting her when it should be the other way round, honestly feeling like a terrible dominant and a terrible wife.

“I’m okay darling, you helped me feel better. That’s a pretty good fucking wife to me, plus I got that sexy video and those pictures from this too. You are perfect my love and I won’t tolerate you feeling so miserable about yourself when you did nothing wrong at all. Now come my love we need cuddles and some rest okay?” With that the blonde rolled to once again hold her her wife, with minutes Leonora could feel her exhaustion taking over so with a sweet kiss and another reminder of her being okay the red head fell asleep in Larissa’s arms holding the blondes left hand just over heart in hopes of further reassuring her. Larissa took some time to reflect and just be before she joined her wife.

Word count 2056

[gaysullengirl]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞

❝ we're two slow dancers, last one's out. ❞

- two slow dancers, mitski

     Isabelle looked out of the plane window, she caught Spencer's gaze in the corner of her eye but she didn't look his way.

She was stressed to say the least, about Spencer but also the fact this was the first case she was working with the Behavior Analysis Unit.

The case was gruesome to say the least- three women picked up at bars and murdered in hotel rooms, the unsub disemboweled them then forced them to clean up their own blood.

"Reid, work up a geographic profile, focus on location of the murder, Prentiss and Rossi, concentrate on the victims, Morgan, Cruz, and I will go deal with Vanessa Holden." Hotch said.

୨୧

"I'm sorry you came all the way out here, it's a waste of time, Ashley knows absolutely nothing." Ashley's mom announced sternly.

"And we want to get this behind us as soon as possible." she added.

"Mrs. Holden, we can't begin to fathom the loss you've suffered." Isabelle said sympathetically.

"That's right, you can't."

"Um, I lost my younger sister when she was just seventeen, it was really hard on me and my family." Isabelle subconsciously softened her face.

"I was always the responsible one, I made sure she remembered her homework and lunch, she's- she was so forgetful."

"I can't even begin to think about if I was the one who passed away, she'd probably lose her head." She laughed slightly.

"Mrs. Holden, I want to catch him and make sure he never sees the light of day, I wanna help you but to do that we need you and your daughter's help."

Ashley's mom let them in the house and they talked with Ashley.

Isabelle walked down their driveway with confidence, she was proud, she got Ashley's mom to open up and let them in the house.

"The information about Vanessa Holden being the responsible sister, where did you get that?" Hotch asked when they arrived at the car.

"It was an educated guess." Isabelle shrugged, "You guessed, then proceeded to lie." Hotch criticized.

"Hmm?" Isabelle scrunched her nose up, "I read your file, your sister isn't dead."

Isabelle's heart dropped, a lot of the time she forget Juliana isn't dead- well not officially.

Isabelle considered telling the truth, but it was a long and complicated story and he'd probably never believe her anyway.

"I- I got us in the door, we talked to Ashley." Isabelle argued.

"Not only do you represent the fbi, you represent this team, to the press, the police, and to the families who are struggling with some of the hardest times of their lives., if you get caught in a lie, the trust we depend on to help solve these crimes disappears." Hotch lectured her.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Isabelle clenched her fists, "Yes."

୨୧

Isabelle stared at the whiteboard in front of her, across it was a map and pictures of the victims.

Spencer sighed, "Based on the geography, he isn't just changing his victimology, he's changed his whole tax bracket."

"The high profile of Vanessa Holden bears that out, by killing her, he was climbing the social ladder, on the sex workers advertisements they said they would come to you."

"That cuts out the social interaction of meeting on a street corner." Morgan said.

"Exactly, that's a long way from a self-assured unsub who hits the clubs." Spencer responded.

"He took a year off between the murders maybe he took that time to change himself." Isabelle offered.

"That's impossible." Spencer replied flatly.

"Why?" She rolled her eyes.

"Well, I mean, you're talking about a total transformation here, I mean how you talk, I mean how you dress, how you think about yourself."

"Difficult maybe, but not impossible." Hotch added.

"He already started killing, there must have been a secondary trigger that motivated him to change who he was." Emily explained.

"So if you're gonna completely transform yourself, how would you do it?" Rossi asked.

"Cut everyone off." Isabelle said, everyone gave her a questioning look, "I was joking." She explained with a small laugh.

Isabelle saw the way Spencer kept his eyes on her, even thought the team couldn't see through her lie- he could.

"A steady diet of self-help books."

"Start hitting the gym."

"You have to learn how to read people."

"A pick-up is basically just a profile, decoding cues of interest and recoding similar ones."

"If you're too obvious, you turn off your target, if you're oblivious, your target moves on to a better profiler."

"That doesn't sound like something he could do on his own, maybe he went to a self-help class?" Isabelle offered.

Rossi held up a news paper and pointed to an ad for a self-help class.

୨୧

Isabelle and Emily walked over to the balcony and looked over the edge, the blood of becky- the latest victim pooled on the sidewalk.

"At all the other scenes, the bottles were arranged in a precise order, here they're just part of the mess." Emily said as she examined the scene.

"Maybe she fought back. And when becky went over the railing, his routine had been compromised because he knew the police would respond.". Isabelle offered.

"Or she could have jumped, her nervous system was pumping adrenaline, her flight or fight response kicks in."

"He struck two fridays in a row, and if his routine's been interrupted, It might compel him to strike again." Hotch added.

"It's Saturday, the clubs will be packed tonight." Isabelle said.

"Take a look at the classes the unsub might have taken." Hotch commanded causing Isabelle to clench her jaw.

୨୧

"I can't believe he actually said that to you." Isabelle scrunched her face after hearing Emily description of Viper.

Hotch, Morgan, and Rossi walked up to the two women, "The answer might be something in Viper's class, But to figure that out, we need to profile the teacher."

"We need to study his style up close and personal, it's gonna take someone that he's already attracted to." Morgan smirked as the whole team looked to Emily.

"Oh, this is really gonna suck." Emily said, "Cruz, you're also going in." Hotch added.

"What!" Spencer said louder than he expected to, "Why can't Emily just go in by herself?"

"Spencer it's fine." Isabelle empathized.

authors note!

sorry this chapter is mostly just the case, the next few will be more about isabelle and spencer!! <3

[ohwhataniight]

more than the world can contain - Chapter 4: A Scandal in Belgravia

Part 2

J

If I had a therapist, she would note down yet another trigger in my list of traumas: swimming pools. The smell of chlorine. Semtex. Although I am fairly certain that having a phobia of deadly explosives should be considered the picture of good mental health. Anyway, I don't currently have a therapist. But, on second thought, maybe I should reconsider.

Because my flatmate is complete bonkers, and I have to deal with his antics every day.

I’ve only managed to get what feels like two hours of blissfully dreamless, uninterrupted, Xanax-induced sleep, after we return to Baker Street, before I wake up with a scream.

The reason I'm screaming is that Sherlock is awake and hovering over me, watching me sleep, his pale blue eyes glinting in the dark as the lights from the street catch them in their stride through the windows. He’s staring intensely at my face, brow furrowed, as if he's trying to decipher some code. He’s wearing a look I became acquainted to for the first time tonight: uncertainty, with an unusual tinge of vulnerability. Once again in this night that feels like a century, he looks much younger than he is.

“What on our-planet-that-orbits-the-sun are you doing?” I hear myself mumbling as I rub my eye with the heel of one hand, and even I’m surprised with my own eloquence at this ungodly time of the night, after a near-death experience. It’s then when I register the slight pressure of cold fingers on my other wrist. “Your hands are cold, you look like a vampire, you act like a vampire. Is there anything you need to tell me, Sherlock?”

“Nope, nothing,” he pops his p quite dramatically, drops my hand on the frame my bed rather gracelessly (this is going to bruise later) and throws himself up, walks away, silk blue robe swishing around him.

I sit up and my eyes slowly get accustomed to the darkness of the room. “Sherlock,” I demand, cutting him dead as his tracks by the door. “You were taking my pulse,” it sounds like an accusation. “In the middle of the night.”

“Nothing to worry about, all seems normal.”

“Yes, but why were you taking my pulse?”

“It’s for an experiment.”

I’m still faced with his back. “Listen,” I say. “There’s no need to be worried. I’m alive, and I'm home, thanks to an uncharacteristic stroke of luck. And, well, you.”

A breath hovers in the empty space between us for a second. “You've got your answer, John,” he eventually exhales, still refusing to turn around and face me. "Not the one you want, maybe, but definitely the one you need."

“What answer? Sherlock, why do you have to be all enigmatic? It’s bloody 3 in the morning, you’re allowed to take a break, y'know?” I stand up from my bed, barefoot on the carpetted floor, infuriated.

Finally, he turns around. Be careful what you wish for, Johnny, I think, because his gaze is burning through me. It's pretty intense, disarming. Especially considering everything that’s taken residence in my mind during the past couple of days.

“You have been wondering whether I am capable of human emotion for a while now. Whether I care,” he almost spits the word. “Well, John, tonight you have observed it’s in your best interests if I don’t. I hope that explains my usual... disposition. Now, go back to sleep. You are still in shock.”

“And you aren’t?”

He doesn’t respond. Just stares at me. Then, “why would I be?”

I take a few steps, closing the distance between us. My heart is thrumming like a caged bird and I want to extend my hand, touch him, comfort him. But this isn’t how Sherlock Holmes works. “We are all bound to lose people we care about in our lifetimes, Sherlock,” I eventually resort to say, realizing I’m feeling slightly dizzy - the shock, the benzo, his stare. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t. Care. I mean.”

More seconds pass. They eavesdrop, they dance in the room, its air thick with our scents (sleep, leather, upholstery, sweat, whiskey?) My flatmate remains unmoving, the bloody vampire. “Right,” he says eventually, before turning around again. “Goodnight, John.”

During the following days, we become... closer. It’s strange to observe, even stranger to feel. I find Sherlock doing our laundry one morning. It’s almost endearing, even though my white jumper is now bright pink after being washed with his aubergine shirt. He even makes me toast a couple of times, makes sure I’m always properly nourished. I don’t catch him checking my vitals again, to my slight disappointment, as I realize with a feeling of dread one day. But I remain feeling quite touched. If not a bit flattered.

Also, my blog is booming. He develops a habit of mocking my titles, but even though he’s the king of banter, I am the writer in this equation. I make him internet famous, he makes me tea. Deep down, I know we both like it.

One night about a week later, I’m at a medical conference in Dublin, I’ve had a couple of beers, and I’m flirting with a beautiful brunette. An oncologist. She’s brilliant and sexy. I think her name’s Sue? And then the facetime app on my phone starts ringing. I’ve been ignoring Sherlock’s increasingly urgent texts all night. They ranged from “John, are you up?” and “I need your insight on the comic book case” to “Pick up John it is a matter of life and death”.

“I’m sorry, I need to get this,” I sigh, and Sophia (?) looks frustrated. My knees wobbles as I try to stand up from the bar stool and it takes a while for my feet to get accustomed to the floor again. “What do you want?” I hiss at the camera after picking up.

“The printer, John, it’s all in the printer. I need you to find out the model of the printer, quickly.” He looks... naked, wrapped in a white sheet, in what seems like his bed. My flatmate texts me “u up” when I’m away, and then facetimes me from his bed in nothing but a sheet. No wonder people talk.

“I’ve met someone, Sherlock,” I whisper-shout, walking out of the pub and the cold Dublin air slaps me in the face. “It was going very well until you rudely interrupted us...”

“Don’t tell me you’re not in the least bit excited to hear my brilliant deductions, then write all about it in your little blog...”

“I’ve met someone, as I just told you. The world doesn’t revolve around you...”

“I don’t think that the world revolves around me,” he says, looking terribly offended. “Although admittedly it would make much more sense if it did...”

“Come on, Sherlock,” I chuckle at the camera. “I see how you dress, flamboyance is your middle name, and you love an audience. Need I remind you that my first role in your turbulent life was that of a skull on the mantelpiece?”

“You’ve evolved since then.”

I’m left gaping incredulously at the level of his audacity. “Well, ta.”

“Anyway, John, contrary to your assumptions about my person, and despite the fact that I still do think you would profit profoundly from an introduction to the joys of custom-tailored trousers, I don’t care what people think.”

I hear myself giggling in the middle of the pavement as people less drunk than I am pass by, chatting merrily. The buzz of the city makes me somewhat giddy too. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Wear what you’re wearing now during our next case.”

“What do I get if I do that?”

“You see, you don't have the balls to do that...”

“What do I get?”

“My acknowledgment and utmost respect.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Dull.”

“Okay, okay,” I chuckle again. “I’ll buy us dinner. Wherever you want.”

“Cafe Royal?”

“Cafe Royal.”

“Fine,” a wide smile spreads on his face. It’s endearing, really.

When I return inside, Susannah is unfortunately nowhere to be seen.

*

Sherlock, please tell me you’re not currently headed where I’ve just been informed I’m headed wearing that sheet. I was drunk last night when I dared you.

Reservation for two at the Cafe Royal at eight. See you soon. SH

And God save Her, of course. SH

To be continued...

[nintendo-666]

Alright so here's the drama! This was the best way I could think to do it.

@moonlightnova @loveless-nameless-graceless-two

Other people who might get a kick out of it/I want to tell @kannibalkaiii @isaacclarkex-art @toadstooltyrant @this-ken-is-babygirl @xdia-morphin-e

Anyone else, feel free to read! I feel like I'm in a romcom!

Okay! I want to start this off by saying that I am doing fine in this situation. This story involves someone I've been starting to see less and less, and have been looking for a reason to break up with for a while. I'll call them Stack (they/he)

Yesterday, I got a message from someone relatively distant in my life, who we'll call Plushie(they/them). They wanted to discuss someone we mutually know. Totally random, but okay. The person in question turns out to be someone I've been casually dating since February.

Stack and plushie have been hooking up (nbd, major poly situation) but recently stack did something sexually without permission that triggered plushie. Plushie reached out to me to see if I thought stack was a trustworthy person. They were told that I was JUST A FRIEND. And one he had JUST MET IN THE LAST FEW WEEKS. Not someone stack has been following around for 8 whole months, frequently proclaiming undying love to. Stack, as a condition of our relationship, tells me about "all" of their other partners and hookups, but I haven't heard of plushie once. Plushie also brought up ~another~ name I've never heard.

So this of course lead to us discovering a massive web of lies. Stack currently has covid. Sent me pictures of the positive test. But specifically told plushie (immunocompromised, btw) that they only had a sinus infection. They also told plushie that they were single. But as far as I'm aware, stack has 4 partners including myself. Stack is constantly telling me how badly they want to raise a child with me, but told plushie that they're getting a vasectomy in a couple weeks. Stack told plushie that they're "saving the last season of wwdits so that they can watch together". Stack has fully already watched it with me. Stack claims to me that they use condoms with everyone else. Unsurprisngly, not the case. And then there's this whole roommate debacle where stack moved a much younger ex into their apartment, prayed on the power dynamic, and swore up and down that they two weren't hooking up. Also bullshit. During our 5 hour phone call, plushie and I kept finding more and more things stack has lied about. Things that don't make sense to lie about. We found explanations for times that he acted suspicious about things. Like when he was complaining about being low on money, but completely clammed up when plushie asked why. The answer is because stack had just taken one of their partners to a fancy hotel I recommended for their birthday. Which plushie couldn't know because, DESPITE THEM ALSO BEING POLY, stack hid all of their relationships from them.

Bizarre. The entire situation is fucking bizarre. All last night was spent scratching our heads and connecting dots. But it all makes sense. Stack has, in one way or another, sexually assaulted both of us and then made it about them and their depression. That we're the ones being mean and overreacting. Stack is incredibly manipulative and self centered. And a bad, yet seemingly compulsive liar. And now, they've been caught.

Anyways I know that was a lot and I feel like I said very little. Honestly, my brain is still reeling from the situation, and I'm feeling a little fried. But trust me when I say that we pieced together a LOT of lies. The next step is to figure out the funniest way to break up with them, with our new information. We're open to suggestions!

[intriq]

Letters - Alfred

after the reader's death, in a time after part 1 and before part 2, the batfam receives therapy and as part of their therapy, they write grief letters to you, the reader.

Italics are used to represent smudged words due to tears

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎┌──═━┈━═──┐

Dear Little Moon,

I hope you’ve been… well. I hope things are doing better for you, certainly much better than they were a few months ago.

Better than how things have been for me, at least.

The others don’t stop by the manor much anymore. Cass sticks to your old bedroom, Duke seems to wander aimlessly, Jason and Steph seem to visit your grave just as much as Tim and Barbara have lately.

But most of all, Bruce is always in his study or in his room, and Dick? He hasn’t come around once since you’ve died. I’ve only overheard he’s been locking himself inside his apartment in Bludhaven.

Everyone thinks he’s punishing himself for your death, and he certainly is. But if anyone should be punished for your death, I’d say it should be me.

I.. I was the one that pulled the trigger, after all. The one that took you away from this world, as dark as Gotham may be.

You always did find a way to be some sort of light for everyone around you, even when you were a child. I always wondered how you could appear so happy all the time despite how often you cried because of your nightmares.

I spend most of my time keeping busy. Cooking meals Bruce won’t eat, cleaning again and again. Sometimes spend a few hours out of my day looking through pictures of you.

I remember how, on your tenth birthday, you wanted to go to the zoo. The one that recently opened in Metropolis, specifically.

You’d even practically begged for Bruce to come with, and I can still remember just how often you’d dragged him around to see all the things you wanted to see. While he may have seemed unamused, he was certainly happy to keep you entertained.

I even remember how long you spent looking for a gift for Bruce’s birthday that year, too. His sixteenth birthday and you wanted to make sure it was a gift he’d really like.

Truly it didn’t quite matter. He would’ve liked anything you got him, even if it was some toy from the store or anything else you quite liked at that age.

I keep most photos the manor has up of you in my room now. Ever since your funeral, ever since your death, no one’s been really able to walk in through the manors front entrance.

When they do, they usually sit there for a few minutes and stare at those photos. Or just shut their eyes and briskly walk past.

Do you remember all the times we’d spend in the manors kitchen when you were younger? How often we’d make something- anything- to make you feel better?

I certainly do.

I remembered how often you’d get at least something everywhere. Whether it was flour, sugar, or even eggs, you always managed to make a mess. But that’s fine, because I could never tire out of cleaning those up with you.

I would give anything, in fact, to have to clean up flour or cake batter off the kitchen floor at some random hour in the night again.

I would give anything to come downstairs to the manors kitchen and see you baking because you were stressed over school or something at work. I would give anything to have to wake you up in the morning because you slept through your alarm.

I’d give anything and everything to be able to talk to you again, my little moon.

But I also wonder if you’d resent me. Do you hate me, for having to kill you? Do you hate me as much as I hate myself? Would you ever be able to forgive me for what I did one day? Or would you tell me that it was okay, that I did what I had to?

I so desperately wish that things could be different. I want them to be. You used to jokingly say we wouldn’t be able to do function as a family without you, and truly? You were right. We can’t function. Much less look each other in the eyes.

The family dinners you used to love so much have been dwindling. Becoming less and less often, with less and less of the others showing up. But I think it’s because they can’t help but stare at your empty seat when they do.

I still sometimes forget you aren’t here for dinner anymore. Still make your favorite dish, set up a plate just for you in your seat, only to be reminded. I think that’s why Bruce doesn’t eat outside of his study now.

Bruce feels like he failed you. Jason, Barbara, and most of all, Dick, too. But if anyone failed you, it was me. I could’ve tried to look for other options before killing you, but I didn’t.

Even though the question of “what could we have even done” is there, I can’t help but think I could have done something different. Something that didn’t have the outcome of me having to watch you, my child, get buried before me.

There are so, so many things I still wish to see. I want to see you grow up more, see you achieve all the things you dreamed. But now I won’t even have that chance. You won’t even have the chance to one day see Damian graduate, which is something I know you were excited to see. Nor will you get to see Cassandra graduate, either.

They’ll probably still have a seat reserved for you anyway. Right in the front row. I’m positive they’ll still mention you in their graduation speech, just as the others did.

I’m sure they will remember you for a long, long time. I know we will all remember you for a long time. You are nowhere near as replaceable as you used to think you were.

It’s a fact that you aren’t replaceable to me, either, my child. My little moon.

-Alfred Pennyworth

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎└──═━┈━═──┘

[harrisongslimited]

George Chapter of the Day March 13, 2024

I Saw Her Standing There

Please read Chapter 1 for trigger warnings and other notices about this story.

‐‐--‐----‐-‐-------------------‐---

Chapter 2

At 14, Jordan Armagh was too young to take part in the audition. But her only sister Joie, at 20, was just the right age. Jordan's room was filled with pictures of the Beatles and their music played constantly. She proudly displayed her official fan club card signed by their personal secretary, Freda Kelly, on her bedroom mirror.

She was waiting for Joie anxiously when she finally arrived home.

"Well?......" she piped up as soon as Joie walked in the door.

"Nightmare," was all she answered as she threw her purse on the chair by the door. "Although one of dad's partners, Mr. Watson, was there."

"Did you see them? Did you actually see them up close? Did you see talk to them? What happened....???"

Joie plopped down on the sofa, enjoying the air conditioned air.

"I'm afraid I didn't see much."

Jordan sat across from her. "Well, what DID you see?"

"I......got a little mad.....and Mr. Watson came....."

"Mad?" Jordan questioned incredulously. "MAD? Are you insane? It was the Beatles for god's sake... What could you possibly get mad about? Did you see Paul? Is he gorgeous or what?"

"I don't know. He said something. John said something. I don't know. It was hot...I lost my temper. Their manager..."

"Brian..."

"Yeah...I think that was his name...he finally got the line moving so the girls could see them and then someone was going to pick the girls for the movie."

"You didn't get picked?"

Joie looked at her younger sister. "No. Not quite. Mr. Watson had to walk me out."

Jordan jumped up. "I can't believe it. My own sister. A HUGE chance like this and your mouth has to..."

"Hey," Joie stood up. "Watch it pipsqueak. If I hadn't gotten those girls out of the heat, they would have had a run on heatstroke at Cedars. And that wouldn't have been good publicity at all."

"Well, it wasn't the Beatles' faults...."

Joie wrinkled her nose. "How long have you lived here? When celebrity can be blamed, they will."

Joie walked into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

Jordan threw up her hands. "How can you eat at a time like this? You were inches from John, Paul, George and Ringo. And you haven't told me a thing..."

"That's because nothing happened," she answered, pulling pans out of the cabinet. "Did Dad call?"

"No....and tell me what they looked like, what they said, what they did."

Jordan stared at Joie from behind the kitchen table.

Joie suddenly smiled, looking at the hunger for information written all over her sister's face and softened.

"OK. Set the table and I'll tell you all about how I made an ass of myself."

Their lives consisted of car rides, hotel rooms and screaming girls. But this is what they thought they wanted when they met as young boys in Liverpool. But Beatlemania had become nothing but isolation and loneliness.

John contemplated this as he was escorted around a room, meeting reporters, more Hollywood big shots who meant nothing to him and their offspring who meant less.

He thought about how they all met, how this came to be and he still didn't believe it. Searching around the hotel reception room, he spotted Brian pumping hands and smiling his proper British smile. John eyed Paul, George and Ringo immediately and nodded toward the exit. They raised their eyes in agreement. Slowly they exited as the reporters gorged themselves on food and drink...none of which made it to the growling stomachs of the 4 boys from Liverpool.

"Hello?" Joie answered the phone as she cleaned up the dishes from the dinner she and Jordan shared. She made a plate of spaghetti for her dad and placed it in the refrigerator.

"Miss Armagh?" Came a low but light voice.

"Yes?"

"My name is Mal. I work for the Beatles. They asked me to call and apologize for all the problems today at the audition."

"Yes?" Joie was skeptical.

"Mr. Epstein, the Beatles manager, would like to let you know that you have been chosen to appear in the movie."

Joie thought it was a joke. A good joke....but a joke nonetheless. Whomever was jerking her around had pulled off a rather decent English accent.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Joie answered flatly and hung up the phone.

One minute later the phone rang again.

"Miss Armagh? It's Mal again. I think something happened to the phone line."

"Nothing happened to the phone line. I said 'no thanks' and hung up. I don't appreciate the joke."

Mal laughed slightly. "Yea, I guess I'd think it was a joke too. But I'm for real. I was at the audition. You left with the police officer after causing a rowdy about the girls in the heat."

Joie remained silent. Maybe this wasn't a joke. But she was so over it already. She rubbed her forehead and just a pinch of interest clustered in her heart. Then she shook her head and wished she never would have gone in the first place. "Look, thanks for the offer, but I think there are other girls who want this more than I do. I'm too busy anyway. But thanks...and good luck..."

She hung up again before he could speak.

Jordan heard the conversation and came out of her room. "Are you out of your mind? You could have worked with the Beatles! Do you know what I would do to be in your shoes? God, Joie...."

Joie was tired...she closed her eyes and sighed. Joie hadn't even started her physics homework. "Look, Jordan, it was probably a joke anyway. I'd have to take off from school....and besides, there are other girls who would want this more than me. Let them have it. I've got you and Dad to take care of and that's more important than anything to me."

"I'm gonna be 15 years old. Dad is a cop. Nothing is going to happen to me if you spend 4 weeks in England," she answered.

Joie smiled. "Well, it's water under the bridge now. So go get your homework done and get to bed. School tomorrow for both of us."

"No?" John Lennon asked Mal.

"She said 'no thanks'. That other girls would want it more than she does."

"She said no?" John asked again.

Mal nodded and waited.

George looked up from his guitar. "Well, that's that." Internally, he thought, "Atta girl." A funny murmur seemed to come up from his spine and land right in his heart. "Fuck that," he said to himself.

"What's the big deal?" Paul chimed in as he sat at the piano placed in their hotel suite.

"You know what the big deal is...." Ringo looked up from his magazine and ran a hand through his hair.

"You fancy her?" Paul questioned.

"She said 'no,'" John repeated, then gave a short laugh and looked at Paul. "Haven't heard that word in awhile...considering."

Paul laughed and dismissed him. She was just a girl after all. They could have their pick of anyone they wanted. Joie seemed bright and smart...and part of Paul was glad the little bird said no. He looked around the suite and wished they were able to get out and see the city. He knew it was futile and watched as George went back to picking at his guitar. Ringo returned to his magazine and he went to the phone to call for more scotch and coke from room service.

Suddenly from the back of the room, Mal stepped forward. "I've got an idea...." he offered. "I mean if it's all the same to you, Johnny."

[mbakuxblackpanther]

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮❤️🌹

Summary: y/n(your character), M'baku, and Imaya find themselves in a love triangle. Mbaku has a very strong friendship with y/n and wants to take things further. However, y/n hasn't had the best relationships and is torn on what to do. Imaya comes into the picture and things go downhill.

Characters: M'baku, Imaya/ima(ee-mah), y/n, jamilah

Trigger warnings⚠️:fighting(battling), mentions of poisoning someone, d€ath, fluff, etc.

*excuse any errors I didn't proofread*

Song to listen to while reading👇🏾

𝑌/𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑣🤍✨:

I was sleeping peacefully when suddenly I heard a knock on my door. *who could that be at the door this early * I thought. I forced myself to get up and go check. I opened the door to be met with a sleepy M'baku. "Hey y/n mind if I sleep here?" He asked. "Sure I don't mind" I replied handing him some pillows and blankets incase he needed them. "But I must ask. What is the leader of Jabariland doing sleeping in my chambers at 6:00 in the morning" I teased. Mbaku has never ever asked to sleep in my room so that can only mean one of two things. 1. He watched a scary movie with N'yame(nuh-yah-mey)again and got scared or 2. The builders are upgrading his chambers to something bigger. "Oh um they're just working on my room so I had to come in here." Mbaku replied looking off to the side. "No they aren't. Mbaku we've been friends since age 8 I know when you are lying" I said. "Alright you caught me y/n. Me and N'yame watched a scary movie last night and I couldn't think straight." He admitted. *i knew it* I thought as I immediately busted into laughter. "You're one of the most powerful leaders I know yet you're scared of a little doll" I said. "Enough enough" he replied laughing at my statement. I led him to my room and we both cuddled in the bed together. Me and Mbaku always have had a really tight bond and we did almost everything together so it didn't feel weird cuddling each other. I snuggled into his chest and drifted off to sleep.

𝑀𝑏𝑎𝑘𝑢 𝑝𝑜𝑣🤎:

As me and y/n cuddled each other I took a moment to look at her closely. She's changed a lot from when we were younger. She had a round face with e/c(eye color) eyes, nice plump lips, and her skin glowed as bright as the sun. Y/n also had a million-dollar smile that was so beautiful. I've always had feelings for y/n. Strong feelings. I wanted to be with her so bad but I know how relationships have effected her in the past and I'm not sure if she wants that right now. I let my thoughts drift off and slowly fade away as I went to sleep.

*timeskip 2 hours*

It was now 8:00am and new guard Imaya had brought our breakfast. Y/n and I both had pancakes, French toast, and bacon with some fruit. Afterwards, me and y/n both went to practice training. Y/n was working towards becoming a Jabari warrior and what better person to train her than me her bestfriend?

"Remember what we practiced last time?" I asked her. "Yeah. It was the tornado move right?" She asked for reassurance. I nodded in response and got into my stance. The tornado move is one of the most brutal and hard moves to do. The spear mimics the movements of a helicopter blade and impacts damage to your opponent at the same time with the sharp blades.

𝑌/𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑣🤍✨:

*timeskip 1 hr*

I got into my stance and prepared to attempt the helicopter move. My feet danced swiftly across the floor as I made my way to mbaku twirling the spear in my hand with my left hand. I moved the spear into my right hand while twirling it but, as I got ready to aim at mbaku i lost control of the spear and it fell to the ground. A sigh of frustration came from my lips and Mbaku gave me a knowing look.

"I know it's hard but you must keep trying. The warrior is already inside of you, you just have to channel it" he said to me. I nodded and rose fo my feet. "Channel my inner warrior, eh? Watch this" I said as I playfully attacked him. Both of us moved swiftly through the room as we sparred with each other when suddenly, I began to lose my balance. Mbaku noticed and quickly grabbed my waist to keep me from falling. I was now turned facing him as he stared in my eyes. "Hellooo earth to M'baku" I said as I waved my hand across his face. "Yes y/n? My apologies I was daydreaming" he replied. "You're good" I said chuckling. "Are you ready to go back now?" Mbaku asked. "Yes let's go" I replied as we turned to walk back near our chambers

Imaya pov🖤:

I watched as y/n and Mbaku walked back to their chambers. *why does he like her so much? Why can't that be me?* I thought. "Why does mbaku favor y/n so much?" I asked jamilah(jah-mill-uh). "The two are just bestfriends" she replied not paying attention. "They don't seem like it. Have you seen the way he touches her and how he treats her in general? Hanuman forbid that anything happen to y/n and he'd go crazy" I said with a hint of jealousy in my voice. "And? Whats it to you?" Jamilah said. "That should be me not her. I mean come on i look wayyy better than her. I just don't get what he sees in her." I spat. "My goodness imaya. Get over yourself the world doesn't revolve around you. Mbaku doesn't want you so just leave it!" jamilah said annoyingly. She walked away but her words played like a tape recorder in my mind. Mbaku doesn't want you so just leave it. I hate to admit it but she's right. *i have to do something* I thought. Suddenly, a idea lit up in my brain.

He will be mine one way or another....

Jamilah Pov💕:

I know you're probably wondering why I'm so upset with Imaya but I swear she's getting on my nerves. Since she's got here all I've heard from her is "Mbaku this. Mbaku that" don't get me wrong I love Mbaku. I look up to him and he is one of the best leaders we've ever had in this tribe. He even gave me a place here in jabariland when I had nothing. It's the fact that Imaya won't take no for a answer. She's getting more and more crazy by the day and I'm convinced that she'll do anything to stop Mbaku and y/n's friendship. I'm not very familiar with y/n but I can tell she is a very sweet person and Mbaku adores her very much. If you ask me, they would look cute together but that's none of my business. Today was very stressful so I prepared a herbal bath for myself to help me de-stress. In the process of me doing this my head started pounding and I saw a image of what looks like a angry Imaya. (A/n: jamilah has special abilities and can see what's gonna happen through visions). I looked more closely and saw that she was actually putting some type of liquid into y/n's food. "Oh no I have to go tell them NOW!" I said to myself. When I reached y/n and M'baku's shared room I I informed them of everything Imaya had said earlier. "And I also just had a vision. She could try to poison you don't eat anything that she gives you." I told her. Mbaku thanked me but y/n was skeptical. "Are you sure? That doesn't seem like her." She said as her thoughts took over. "Heed my warning y/n. Imaya can't be trusted" I told her with a pleading look.

*timeskip*

The morning came and me and Imaya were preparing breakfast for the two. Other Jabari warriors would be joining us to celebrate y/n becoming a Jabari warrior. I looked over to see Imaya sprinkling some black powder into y/n's food and drink. She then turned to me and said "I'll take the plates out to them while you get the drinks." "No worries I'll take care of it. You're still new here you need to rest some " I convinced Her. When she moved from the kitchen to the dining area I quickly switched y/n's plate and drink with hers. Everyone had the same thing so there was no issue.

Jamilah pov🖤:

*why isn't the poison working* I thought as I took the last bite of my food. Suddenly, my throat began to burn like fire and I began to choke. "S-someone h-help me" I managed to say. Jamilah rushed over to me and instead of helping me up she pushed a sharp object into my skin. "Shut up!" She whispered. "This is what you get for trying to poison y/n." She spat. My karma finally came back on me. I wish I could take it all back because now I'm the one suffering. Before I could even say anything my breath slipped away and my eyes dimmed until they were shut.....

Omniscient pov🎥:

The whole Jabari tribe was shocked when they heard the news. Y/n stood there in shock and she remembered Jamilah's words. "Don't take anything she gives you. She could try to poison you" I put the pieces together and finally realized what had happened. Imaya wanted mbaku to herself and saw me as a threat therefore she attempted to kill me to get to him. *but why? Me and him are only best friends right?* I thought. I have feelings for mbaku but I haven't had the best time with relationships and I'm worried about losing our friendship. I love how he cuddles me at night or when he hugs me when we watch movies together. "Y/n i need to talk to you" mbaku said. "About what?" I questioned. "Come. We need to talk privately" he said leading me to our shared room. I sat on the bed facing him. "I'm listening whenever you're ready" I told him. "We've been bestfriends for over 4 years. I know you haven't had good experiences with relationships but give me a chance to be more than your friend." Mbaku said. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean what of something happens and we break up and it becomes weird between us?" I asked. "Don't worry about that y/n. I adore you very much and will always take care of you." Mbaku said holding my face to his so we'd make eye contact. "So, do you want this? I don't wanna rush you into a relationship after-" I cut him off by giving him a long, passionate kiss. "Of course I want to be with you. I was just waiting for you to finally ask me" I smirked.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Mbaku made his way closer to me and kissed my lips. I kissed him back and before I knew it we were caught up in a makeout session. Mbaku trailed kisses from my lips and then down to my neck which caused me to let out a small moan. Mbaku gave me hickeys from my neck, stomach, and even my chest. We pulled away from each other and cuddled. I turned on "Coming to America" on Netflix .

*I never knew my bestfriend would become the love of my life* i thought. Shortly after, I fell asleep in m'baku's arms and his touch brought a relaxing feel to my body.

A/n: excuse any errors😭I never proofread and I just know I be having a bunch of mistakes. But hopefully y'all enjoyed this story/imagine let me know if you have any ideas for the next one. I also take requests🤍

[is-this-tf]

Do you have any tf book recs outside of animorphs? 👀

Hmmmm, tough question! Admittedly, I haven't read that many physical books that are explicitly or at least featuring TF stuff myself, usually I get my TF engagement through other mediums. Though I have read a few! Just a heads up on spoilers for them as I talk about them a bit, though. If any folks have TF book recommendations themselves, feel free to reblog or reply and take it away!

One I read back in junior high that Absolutely helped shape my brain was Clete Barrett Smith's book Magic Delivery, that featured a LOT of costume-triggered transformations, that really honed in on the sensory experience of like becoming the subject of the costume on the parts that the POV character TFs, like- it had a robot TF in it that I can still picture in my head to this day. This definitely was part of the reason why costume trigger TFs are a HUGE appeal for me nowadays, they were probably some of my first experience getting a taste of TF in general and this book really helped my young mind sort of get a real good solid sense of what it could be like, what it could mean, how it could feel. The book was written for younger readers, but that hasn't stopped me from enjoying something even as an adult. (Mild warning for ableism in the case of one of the villains here, which. Magic costumes that TF you, you can probably guess where it goes from there.)

Another more recent example is a series I'd been following, the Lazy Scales series by DM Gilmore (it's got dragon tfs in it :D), is one I'd read for a while and enjoyed but unfortunately can't give a full picture of- I'd stopped reading after around book 4 (due to emotional devastation and the time it took me to hear about books 5 and 6), and the series and its sequel series have since been completed, 6 books each and 12 books in total. While I can't speak for the direction the Lazy Scales series takes in its latter half, or for the sequel series in its entirety, I did really like the way Gilmore took the sort of the struggles and frustrations the main character had from being fundamentally inhuman and relating it to experiences in queerness and neurodivergence and autism. There being fundamental misunderstandings and incomprehension of certain concepts between characters of different species, but not like detracting from the overall sapience and understanding of the characters themselves, for example. The barriers of communication are rather worked around or reframed in ways that, while aren't perfect, are at least serviceable to the characters and the goals they're trying to reach together. Canon queer romances, turning into dragons as an illustration of queerness and autism and things that had worked before just suddenly feeling too off and wrong to look to for security again, sillier times early on in the series that have ramifications and grow more serious as the series goes on.... as I gather. The will be moving into direct spoiler territory, but around the end of the book I stopped following the series after was a pretty brutal depiction of identity death, that even moreso was at the hands of the character's abuser that had been harming them throughout the books before. I do think I have more faith in the series now that both this series and the sequel series have been completed, but for the entire next book afterward (as far as I gather) that character remains in and is explored in that state.... which might have scared me off, at the time. I think I'd be willing to consider returning to the series sometime later, though, when I'm feeling up to it. We'll see!

DM Gilmore has written and published more TF related books, including a LitRPG miniseries and a solo featuring toony TFs, the former I haven't seen and the latter I've only given a cursory glance- but they do seem fun! I would be willing to recommend Gilmore as a TF book author to give a look to if you're interested.

[calypsoff3]

Sixty.

I just find it funny that when I come to see Maxwell I just be sitting in his home like I have a share of this space but it’s nice, they are so welcoming to me. The treat like their own, I could never repay them for what they did when I had no money, like I can’t forget that shit. They didn’t think twice either, they was all ok for me to stay and I have to repay that, even if Maxwell says he don’t want to know and he wants me to be ok “it’s wild you know, like you’re what. Three years younger then me and you have your head on you all the time, you just you know. A good man, it’s amazing” he laughed “I wouldn’t say that, nobody is perfect. Even I at times, I can fix and help other people but helping myself is hard, it’s ok to give others advice but for myself I mess up Chris, I do” nodding my head “so we spoke on Cali, you had a good time as you showed me. The pictures, graduation, and tell me now. You’re back in London, how is it?” rubbing the side of my face “I feel like erm, things are good. Like Robyn was speaking on the kids needing me, that I need to be home and stuff, like I kind of felt backed in a corner to say like ok you know what, you come to London. See how they like it, but I don’t actually like want to go back there to live, and I don’t know. I really feel like it’s not peaceful there. I want to the NBA game, you see people, I saw Jay Z and he was sat across me and I Felt hate in my heart, I just can’t be bothered to be having that in my life but I know I need to do something” Maxwell squinted his eyes “right, clearly you have things that need looking after there. You know Chris, you don’t need to live in Cali right, you could live in the middle of nowhere right, you could and you know that. It’s a big place, but you need to do what is right for you, for your family. Those come first, hearing you right now. I am sensing confusion on what to do, you want to be there for the kids but also think of yourself, but right now. I don’t want you to push yourself into anything but your mental health, I do not recommend it, put this on a back burner ok?” nodding my head “good, but I think this was a success, you took your medication, sexually you’re ok too. The medication is fine on you, good” Maxwell smiled, he is happy.

Stretching out my body “and Chris I am really proud of you, because you told me that there was things that triggered you but you didn’t react as you would, and that is peace for you. You wasn’t judged as the angry man, but I really think you need hold your own and accept that children will always do things to upset parents too, and there is probably more to come but you need to hold your own” nodding my head, he is right “Chris” Maxwell son came over to me “what’s up, you good?” high fiving him “I got something for you and you sibling too, for you all. Maxwell just don’t ok, it’s a present from me, I didn’t get you another for Christmas please, I want too. You did a lot for me, you took me in as your own family from Jamaica, you came when I needed you so I want to do this” getting the envelope out of my pocket “fourteen days at Disneyland Orlando, all paid up, flights and everything. And I put some money in there for you kids, not adults, they can handle themselves” his son’ eyes widened so wide “Chris don’t” his son jumped on me “we are going to Disney!” he yelped out, I chuckled “it’s nothing ok, you deserve the time. Have fun though” I didn’t think his son would cry “thank you” placing him down “it’s ok champ, you deserve it. Spend it on yourself ok, and Maxwell. Have a good time, they are open flights so choose yourself” Maxwell shook my hand “see you next week though, but you didn’t have too. I am serious” shaking my head “I want too, that is the difference, kids. Their happiness, that is what means the most” Maxwell hugged me, hugging him back which is nice of him, he is a good man.

I kind of figured that eventually I would see Oakley, I am not shocked but he is here and I am not going to say much to him, he is quiet so I can’t really say anything “how come you came?” I asked Jbeez “because this guy needs to just add a transition onto the song, so they said you was here at the studio so I said I am sure he don’t mind” I shrugged “I don’t mind” Jbeez laughed am I missing something? I feel like I am missing something, did something happen? You didn’t even say hi to each other” Oakley and I both cleared our throats “no just vibing” I shrugged “right, ok so shall we listen to the song then we can do our thing and then let Chris do his thing?” looking at Oakley, he licked his bottom lip “erm like, I am good. I said like we can do this another day” that is interesting “right but the song, I want it out. This shit is dope, just play it” Jbeez walked off, he is adamant in this, I mean I don’t mind he can come into the session, I was just writing. I am not a hater but when it comes to my kids, and then he lied it pissed me off “why did you lie?” I said to him “I am not the type to be like that, but you lied and I didn’t like that” he looked at me “because erm” he paused “I erm, how can I say to you, to your face that I got Rylee flowers, I couldn’t say it” I laughed “so you did” he nodded his head “I told you to stay away from my daughter, I will fuck you up so bad. I am not playing with you; I see you are a good guy. You’re young and you have other females, just not my daughter, you have the fucking world, fuck with them” he didn’t say anything but just stare at me until Jbeez played the song “hope a trap boy's your type, cause I don't have a nine-to-five. I get that your standards high, but I'm not a random guy, I'm different” he rapped over the beat, and we just stared at each other. He gives me the vibe that either she isn’t going to stop or he isn’t going to stop, more so Rylee because I know she pushed for it.

I don’t know who is more excited me or the kids for London, I think they dislike early morning flights because these are miserable, so miserable but they are quiet and that alone makes me happy. Mel is on the jet with me, she is going to Barbados so I said we would stop over, drop her off before going to London, I mean we are flying anyways “you know what Robbie, I think you need to really keep an eye on Rylee” Mel said “oh” I said “just I think this freedom she will be getting is going to be a wild one for her” not like Mel to say that “really?” Mel leaned over to me “Robyn, just watch her. But don’t be too much for her, don’t be so engrossed with Chris, like on a real. If I see things why aren’t you?” I furrowed my eyebrows, what is Mel even on “but has anything happened for you to say this to me? Did she do something?” I asked, I mean clearly something did “I just see my niece changing right before my eyes, why aren’t you seeing it?” I laughed looking at Rylee “I don’t know, maybe because I live with her but Mel, has something happened?” I am not understanding “she is going New York so if she wants to play around that is on her, she knows what is on the line. She wants to be in my company, if she decides she messes up then I will give my company away, I rather that then let her have it for free so she won’t mess up” Mel squinted her eyes “ then remind her” I feel like something has happened, am I missing something here “did something happened with my daughter Mel and you’re not telling me?” I don’t understand “no, I am just telling you to remind her” I don’t believe that statement, something happened.

Since Mel said what she said I am having to make my way to Rylee that is at the back “what you doing?” I asked her, she shook her head “nothing, was going to fall asleep” she said “right, can I talk to you?” I said to her “sure” she didn’t need to answer because either way I was going to sit and speak to her “is there anything you want to tell me? Like has anything happened?” I am concerned “with?” she is confused but it’s weird for Mel to even mention it if nothing happened “right, I feel like I have missed something. How are you feeling about New York?” I mean I can’t just bring up what Mel wants me to say, I need to add it gently “I am, meet new people. I think I will probably miss home, miss that really but then I can be my own boss” I sat down on the edge of the seat facing her ”yeah Rylee, it’s all good having that freedom but you need to remember who are you are. You may want to hide things but there will always be blogs and people snitching on you, we will find out Rylee. If you mess up and you don’t do what I want, meaning passing your education to the highest degree then I refuse to give you what I built from the ground up, I will die with that company given away, I don’t want you to think you can start doing what you like in a manner that I don’t deem correct, don’t fuck yourself up being away from home” Rylee looks so offended “where is this coming from mom? Look I am not perfect, and I don’t praise myself for being just that. I can’t promise I will be good because that gives you false narrative but for you to use that shows you don’t care about me, more your name” she is good this girl, staring at her as I got up “I am not perfect mom, what do you want me to say? Nobody is perfect, all you think is your name. You could have had me with you, kept me close but you shipped me off to New York and on top of that you’re having me in an apartment on my own? I don’t have a say in anything and now you want to go to London and stay there” that is her issue “you’re upset because you want to go to London and stay there, so you can run around won’t that rapper, I will disown you if you do some stupid shit like that, you’re worth more” I spat “I’ve learnt from you” I had to just pause and think because what does that mean.

I’ve been silent since I sat back down “she said I’ve learnt from you, what does that mean?” I asked Mel, she just frowned in confusion “hmmm maybe erm, her ways with men? Or maybe how you are loyal to one? I don’t know, so she really said that to you?” Nodding my head “I said over my dead body I will give it you if you mess up but she’s offended by me, she says I’m shipping her off to New York” I hate teenagers so much “you and little miss Rihanna need to deal with that, I am not looking forward to when Melody starts acting like that, I mean if we bring real. Rylee is the most spoilt child I know, she is so spoilt with love and money, and everything. She’s very blessed, and I think you need to not be too hard on her either. We both know what it is like when your mom is on your case, we have all done things too but I just want you to be there for her but make her aware she can’t mess how either” I feel like me and Rylee can’t get along, we try but it fails and right now I’ve given up on that because she sees me as annoying and I did things on purpose when in actual fact she did it to herself, playing around with that guy, I won’t have her here in London to cause drama.

[okiekp13]

Ecstasy 2

Jungkook was buzzing as he walked out of the portal back into the house he shared with his six kin. Namjoon walking by with a book was the first to notice his dazed condition, curiosity got the best of him. What could have been the summons?

“Jk? What happened?” his deep voice bringing the younger out of his thoughts.

“I signed a contract and I think I fucked up royaly.” 

“Explain?”

Jungkook walked with Namjoon to their sitting room. Their home wasn’t in “Hell” more like a parallel dimension running along earth’s. There dimension was kind of a mirror of earth’s more like the colors are inverted but the rest is normal looking things like grass, trees, houses, streets, even their house had the normal amenities. Jungkook plops down on to the couch as Namjoon takes an adjacent chair. 

“I was summoned by a young witch. We agreed on a contract where I help her channel her magic and I get euphoria from her.”

“Ok so where is the problem?”

“I sealed the deal with a kiss as you do and about got knocked on my ass. It didn’t stay just a peck or rather we got carried away and the first taste of her euphoria felt like 50 women just from a kiss! I’m gunna go insane if I go any further.” Jungkook let his head fall back against the couch in defeat.

“So what I hear is that her magic is horrible but her sensuality is immense?”

“YES!”

“Have you even tested if what you have done for her works yet? Alot of the time what you put in is also what you get out perhaps you are giving a lot thus she returns in kind. You should check in with your witch to see how the deal is balanced between you both. Is she atleast worth the summons?” 

“Yes…that makes it even harder to pace myself because of the chemistry. What if I over do it and go insane. I’m used to women going insane not incubui. It’s an indefinite deal too.”

“Oh…yea you messed up.”

It did not take long for the others to come along and inquire about it as well and Namjoon took a sick joy in telling them all about it. The jabs and teasing battered his ego a bit but Jungkook was used to it being the youngest out of the seven. When the jabs triggered his temper he left his hyena laughing brothers to storm to his room. Once in his solace he stripped off his attire only to slip into the hottest shower he could tolerate. Attempting to use the water to clear his mind but it didn’t last long; replaying the events in his head Jungkook got lost in the thought of how you smelled…like a faint fragrance of vanilla, how soft your skin was under his finger tips, how your shorts and t-shirt were the biggest tease to his senses he’s had in ages, the kiss…his stomach knotted just thinking about it. The first taste of euphoria as the kiss deepened blew his mind, ribbons of if it engulfing his mind turning his body into a primal machine starved to dive in to you, he had never had something so strong yet smooth in his life. If he wasn’t careful he would get addicted and would not be able to recover. His mind wandered; what would your skin feel like against his? What would your moans sound like as he coaxed them out of you? How would your body torture his own? What kind of lover were you? Groaning at his own body betraying him he had little control over the need to feel something. 

Water pouring down over his head and shoulders, rivelets cascading down his honey colored skin over toned muscles down to the angry length of his begging to be stroked. Biting his bottom lip to keep his moan contained as best he could; Jungkook took hold of length hissing at the touch, sensitivity a bit much still buzzing from your sensuality. Eyes clenched shut he pictured you splayed out for him on his bed, your body bare to his hunger, your curves and beautiful skin nearly enough to invoke envy from Aphrodite. To see you squirm on his sheets waiting for him, begging for him had Jungkook groaning as he stroked his length chasing a high he could only hope compared to your euphoria. To hear you call his name, to watch your body move as he would sink into you slowly before primal needs took over and he would pound into you until you were screaming his name for the gods to hear. He could only imagine how your body would feel, how your walls would strangle and milk him for all he was worth… the thought of filling you with his seed only fueled his needs. Stroking his length just the way he needed, sometimes fast, sometimes focused just on his head or tighter at the base, all pulled growls and moans from him. Feeling the release building, Jungkook could barely hold on as it erupted hitting the wall.

"Fuck!"

Breathing heavily using the wall to hold his body up; the high tingling over his skin and down his spine. Sighing and staring at his mess; embarrassment tinged his cheeks. Using the shower head to clean off the wall before finishing and stepping out to wrap a towel around his hips. Steam filled his bathroom; wiping a hand over the mirror to remove the fog he could only stare at his reflection. What was he going to do? Your touch was like a brand on him; he was still affected even now. Shaking his head he finished his routine only to fall on his bed face first. He was screwed. Already he was thinking of how he was going to approach you during this contract, would he be able to control himself? Half demon or not the need incubi have for sensuality is insatiable, never in a million years did he think he would be overwhelmed by one woman. Sure he had done some shady acts with eros mostly orgy parties with nymphs but that was still not even close to this feeling. Frustrated with himself he growled and forced himself to sleep, the events of everything left a wave of exhaustion on him. For now, it can be tomorrow Jungkook's problem. 

[mothwrotten]

trigger warning for ED language.

i’ve lost 10 kilos.

i tried so hard to keep it on my bones. to remind myself to eat, every day, to set alarms and have food ready and options when i couldn’t stomach a full meal. i’m at war with my body and my recovery. i am at war with the scales and the mirrors in my bathroom. i don’t want to be crouched over a toilet bowl every time i try and force food down my throat. i don’t want this never-ending nausea to be dictator. i couldn’t even eat a bowl of rice yesterday without it curdling in my stomach. my safe foods are dwindling and i cannot get solids into me and my ribs are too noticeable and i haven’t been this bad since i graduated high school, but i can tell the difference between hunger and nausea this time and it doesn’t even matter because they are both indicative of each other and i went on a date two days ago and i couldn’t even finish my meal, the only thing i can ingest right now is soft soups and i’m so scared that’s going to start making me sick, too, and it’s not even like i can force feed myself anymore because it just demands its way out again. my routines to minimise the nausea don’t work anymore and i’ve called in sick and left work sick too many damn times and my manager knows i throw up in the staff bathrooms and she sees the way my hands are too shaky to do my job and she’s concerned about me, i hear it in her voice but i don’t even know what to say. i know i have to tell someone. i’m so ashamed of myself. i’m meant to be better than this. i don’t want to be like this. i think of the healthiest i’ve been and can only picture myself at 18, training every day and not eating anywhere near enough to sustain the hours i put myself through, and i see pictures of myself from when i was younger and all i can see are the bones that jutted out. the elbows that were too pointy. the legs that never grew into their size until i turned 19 and the way i could never stand to look at my own weight before the fights. the product of my mother’s insecurities and my father’s inability to be proud of anything less than perfect. the aftermath of a prodigal boxer who never liked hurting people.

i’m meant to be more than this.

[chezzabellesworld]

Nicole Richie pop royalty pop culture royalty

As a story goes with Nicole Ritchie, when she was very young, she was on stage with Prince well backstage, concert with her parents at the time or one of her parents I don’t know there’s not too much written about her parents, especially the father, who is supposedly part of his part of his music the dad was part of music or part of the band, and was seen by Lionel Richie and his wife, Cherie, she wasn’t being attended or looked after very well and they had an agreement where they looked after her, because the parents couldn’t or didn’t take the responsibility with her, I’ve heard some people say that Lionel Richie is her father. He just got a groupie pregnant or something to that knowledge all that degree but in pop culture to me Nicole Richie is bigger or just as big as Paris and Lindsey., not literally because look at the size of her she say little and small, this is partly because she was being compared to Paris Hilton who is literally as fit as a stick and especially was even more so back learning the 2000, they came onto our screen in around 2004 roughly, where to rich girls from Beverly Hills different tasks in small towns and lived without as much money at all and had to work for things they weren’t allowed any credit card cards or shopping spree,

Anyway She was an adopted by Lionel Richie and his wife and they took her on full-time. They had a temporary adverse, but they wanted to be a stability in her life and she enjoyed being around them too ! Nicole always says what a good dad she has and how they’ve been looked after her and her younger sister always say how good Lionel always is dad so I think that says a lot because that is a lack of good father out there .

So Nicole Ritchie wasn’t the original choice with Paris Hilton to go on the simple life. It was either going to be Kimberley Stewart, maybe Keith and Kim Kardashian., maybe even her sister Nikki, but Nikki didn’t like the same like Paris does, a so then Nicole was a choice for the show and later seasons fingers grew as tensions between the two was thicker , anyway going back to the weight because it’s important she was constantly being compared to Hilton in interviews everything and I think this really struggled even though she didn’t ever met her or show any of her weaknesses , she was very confident but she had literally come out of rehab for heroin addiction and other addictions and her , gone up and she was a normal size slim girl , for us growing up in error like even looking back now myself I was fat I wasn’t fit but I wasn’t definitely wasn’t fat , we get compared to goes and we compare ourselves to girls in pictures or don’t wanna be photographed next to someone who likes a lot skinnier than us sometimes it can be triggering ,

After this simple life or jury, but definitely after she was friendly with the designer Rachel Zo , who made the whole bohemian look a massive thing in the mid to late 2000s and early 20 tens , everyone had this look at this time Vanessa Hudgens Selena Gomez but mainly it would be Nicole Ritchie and Rachel though and someone likes Sienna Miller it was so popular everyone had something in their closet that , Even if they weren’t heavily into that look was a part of it even if it was just a bag that had that feature to it or earrings but there was so many different skirts and dresses and jewellery lots of bangles, heavy bangles, wooden bangles, clothing and fashion revival .

The younger generation the younger generation don’t remember Nicole Richie as someone is pivotal because she wasn’t in the films like Lindsay Lohan and she wasn’t as prominent and out there maybe as Paris Hilton , was part of the holy Trinity of those free. Let’s chuck Britney Spears in there even though it doesn’t up.

[penelopecruzcoded]

we're finally onto crystal castles and it's unearthing so many buried memories. i found crimewave on somebody's blog or myspace or something i no longer remember, and i instantly knew i was hearing some kind of movement i had never heard before, an entirely new kind of music, those bouncy, springy 8-bit beats that were so new back then, when people were still beginning to experiment with that whole sound, and my small teenage mind was getting blown. one of those bands who, not only did i love absolutely everything they put out, but their art informed my art deeply and on a very foundational level. by the time II came out i was in university, and it was the soundtrack to my days there. the cover art, that kid who stands by the graveyard. a relative found that album in my belongings and pointed to the picture: "i thought that was you." i started seeing myself as the kid on that album cover. my first year at csm my big final end-of-year foundational project involved a stop-motion movie starring a cut out of alice glass (i cut her out from magazine covers and editorials i collected). i cast her as an alice in a dystopic alice in wonderland, where she travels down a rabbit hole and the people in wonderland end up lobotomizing her, and then she turns into a doll. so much in that one piece that speaks to me now, that i understand as a silent transmutation of my own suffering. you never understand your own art until years later. even crazier still, as i cast alice as a vehicle for my own suffering i had absolutely no clue what she was going through, suffering a parallel hell, which is another mindblowing parallel i still can't manage to pick apart. i idolized her and wanted to be like her, i romanticized her and ethan's relationship: the coolest couple out there making music. so much you never learn until later.

i burned that short i made onto a CD and so desperately wanted to hand it over to alice herself when CC came to london to play a show, but anxiety took over as usually and i never did end up going to the show, nevermind giving them the CD. i don't think i will ever stop listening to them, even though the devastating information alice came out with later could never be unlearned either. i can't unlearn it and i don't want to, as ethan has taken on the shape of a very familiar abusive entity. i absolutely know what alice told was the truth (and she was of course branded a liar buy the ethan fangirls, of course, lol) and i believe her. unfortunate that we'd end up crossing paths on twitter when she accused somebody i love of abuse (not ethan), in a way that was untrue and jumping to conclusions and triggered reactions based off the past and then i had to go and argue her in her mentions. wild lol. that's my whole CC story thus far, i did see the new girl ethan seemed to replace alice with, a carbon copy it seemed in looks albeit much younger and similarly i guess easy to manipulate person due to the age gap. it's sad. i haven't listened to amnesty and truthfully i have no interest in a post-alice CC, because while ethan was the beats, alice was the beating heart of it all, and without her, there is no CC.

i'll always love and cherish the music that came, the tracks i grew up with, and holding all those complicated thoughts and feelings together and at once is just what life is like, and art is like. if i could mourn for my former self, i would, because i feel like it. hold a small funeral for her because she is no more, but because i do love who she used to be and how hard she tried to go on in spite of everything. i used to look up to alice for being the epitome of cool in music, from her clothes to her hair to the way she didn't seem to give a fuck what anybody else was doing, i thought of us like kindred spirits. but if there's anything i share in common with alice now, it's probably that we are both survivors. life put us through the grinder and spat us back out and we're still here, carrying on. and there's some kind of pride to be had for that, is my take away as i sit here and listen to Empathy. we should pride our ability to survive, maybe not unscathed, maybe not undamaged, but still here, still breathing. crawling if we have to sometimes, covered in sludge, existing in the swamps because toxicity became our only friend, until we are better enough that breathing purer air won't kill us. until we can walk again. survivors have this. every single one of us who has survived something, we have this instinct, even if hitting the self-destruct button felt tempting at many, many turns, we keep on going. i will keep on going. and i will thrive.

[mbenvs3000w23]

Nature's Nostalgia

Hey everyone! This week is kinda weird because we don't have a prompt. While I usually like having the creative freedom to write what I want, I find myself at a block for what to talk about this week. After reading through some of our peers’ posts, I’ve decided to follow in their direction and share some personal memories I have with nature. I hope you enjoy :) 

When I was younger I grew up in a more rural environment, where my house was surrounded by acres and acres of forest with no neighbours in sight. Due to this, there were various different plant species around my house. One species, in particular, were called Dicentra plants, otherwise referred to as “bleeding hearts”. These plants were very unique in that they truly looked like bleeding hearts falling off the plant. I mentioned this species as they hold a special place in my heart. Anytime I see a picture or have a memory that reminds me of these species, I think back to my childhood when I would truly spend every single day outside enjoying nature. I’m so grateful for this as I know some kids never got to experience this, and instead spent the majority of their childhood inside or relying on other indoor activities as entertainment. And this is not to say that one is better than the other, but I am just really really grateful that I was able to have this upbringing. I'm sharing this memory as it is just one example of how much nature can influence our thoughts and memories. There is no specific reason why this plant species reminds me of summer as a kid; it never played a direct role in any of my core childhood memories. However, its uniqueness automatically brings me back to a time when seeing it was part of my daily life. 

Another example of this is how I associate dinner plate hibiscus’ with my grandmother. Before she passed she gave my mother this beautiful dinner plate hibiscus that had so many bright blooming flowers. While I don't have any specific memories attached to this plant, just the thought of it makes me think of my grandmother. Even just thinking of the smell of the flowers makes me think of happy summer memories with my grandmother. 

I can think of so many other examples of my brain using nature as a tool to remember certain memories or feelings. It really is interesting how our minds do that. I remember learning in a past psychology class that exposure to natural environments has been seen to commonly trigger nostalgic feelings and memories of past experiences, especially those associated with childhood and family. This is such an interesting concept to me because something that might bring back a happy memory or feeling to me, could make someone else think of a really bad time in their life. It's all subjective. But I think that's the point. These memories and connotations that we make are what make us who we are.

[csabusposts]

Writing and research

My piece was Banksy October 9, 2013 Untitled:

Banksy was nominated for an Oscar in 2010 for the Best Documentary Feature for his film Exit.  

In 2015 Banksy opened Dismaland, an ironic theme park on the outskirts of Weston-super-mare, where the food was bad, the staff were useless, and the rides were dismal. 

 This artwork is accompanied by an "audio guide" narrating the shootout with "Crazy Horse" on a police radar.

Sound used in the "audio guide" is cut from the infamous Collateral Murder video released to WikiLeaks by Chelsea Maning in 2010, featuring the racket of gun turrets and radio communication between soldiers killing civilians. 

The artwork is surrounded with oil barrels and on one of them Banksy stenciled a number which takes the caller to a 39-minute recording of a 2007 air strike in Baghdad. 

The way I think about this piece is different from the way I thought about it when I first saw it. At first I thought the artwork was a mural of horses and some men, I didn't really see a connection between the two. However, the mural did seem very dark or meant to trigger some sort of emotion/trauma. After some research I discovered that this piece of art was a crucial pillar of Banksy's activism in his stance against all forms of war and violence. I also learned that the mural is a depiction of a shootout between armed men and hi-tech horses wearing night vision goggles along with a free phone number to hear the audio of an air strike. This artwork was used in conjunction with previous work to show Banksy's stance on not only the war in Iraq, but military intervention in general.

2. Art and writing

This work of art is a painting that I painted, inspired from a Pinterest post. This painting hangs in my room and is one that I look at everyday. It was created on a canvas with acrylic paint. To me this painting serves as a reminder of Dubai, because Dubai is my favorite city and the building depicted is one of the famous buildings in Dubai. In my opinion this is a beautiful painting because it shows the beauty of Dubai's city lights at night.

3. Writing a self-portrait

I am an 18 year old female from Fort Myers, Florida, although originally from Kerala, India. One thing I do for fun is dance, I used to learn Indian classical dancing from age 8-16 and now it has become something I do for fun in my free time. I am part of a Malayalee Association, which holds events to celebrate South Indian holidays. This organization allows the younger generation to learn more about their culture and who they are. I believe one thing that makes me unique is my open-mindedness. I am someone who is willing to listen and understand other people's ideas/thoughts and their reasons for those beliefs, no matter whether I agree with them or not.

4. Art project (self-portrait)

This collage represents me because it incorporates pictures of myself, a drawing to represent me, as well as some pictures that represent my culture and my insterests.