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Today's Document
JBB: An Artblog!
YOU ARE THE REASON
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taylor price
styofa doing anything
sheepfilms
Claire Keane
Not today Justin
if i look back, i am lost
Kiana Khansmith
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Keni
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
#extradirty
NASA
RMH
Sade Olutola
Kaledo Art
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Romania
seen from Ireland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@galacticcity3
I have been so utterly transfixed by this phrase lately.
I find myself saying this out lout whenever I feel stumped by any conversation. Any time a conversation gets kinda stupid and people start saying unnecessary things I immediately have a strong compulsion to say "uh... white person here. i jack off to goombas from the super mario bros games"
morbid pickup line
His Shadow by Maéna Paillet
Angela Davis by Christina Tarkoff
Civil rights activist, writer and lecturer
“Mary Wallace was the first woman bus driver with the Chicago Transit Authority in 1974. Her job applications were rejected for three years, but her persistence paid off. She was eventually hired under an affirmative action program. Wallace became one of the city’s most popular drivers over her thirty-three year career.”
Happy Black History Month!
Happy Black History Month from Esme Robinson
"Let's celebrate this mythtastical month to honor the black folks who made the world more amazing and diverse"
E.R.💜
A young gith and her dragonling
(Available as a print here)
I’m tired of every black reader fic being a Tyler Perry movie or some stereotype filled story!
BRING BACK REAL ROMANCE FOR BLACK WOMEN MY GOODNESS
Starting Off Wrong...
Now Playing: Duvet~ Boa
Vivica's Pov
Alfred drove me to Wayne Manor, telling me Bruce wanted to spend more time with me. Bruce had mentioned having to spend the morning at Wayne Industries but promised he'd see me later. Something about the gentle way Alfred smiled at me made me feel warm inside. I always saw Alfred as a father or grandpa figure. He's always been so sweet to me. Even as kids. I loved him so much.
As I walked into the massive house, my ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of yelling boys. Their ruckus died instantly when they spotted me at the door. I fought the urge to fidget as they looked me up and down, exchanging these little knowing smiles that made me want to turn around and walk right back out.
I glanced at Alfred, hoping for some explanation. "Who are they?" I asked, not bothering to hide my confusion.
"These young gentlemen are being taken care of by Master Bruce," Alfred explained in his proper British accent. "Their names are Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Master Bruce's son, Damian."
I stood there, completely lost for words. So during those five years when Bruce had disappeared, he'd been... collecting children? My eyes landed on who I assumed was the youngest - Damian. I couldn't help but stare. The kid looked exactly like a miniature Bruce, down to that proud tilt of his chin.
I felt like I'd stepped into some alternate reality. Bruce Wayne, the man I'd known since childhood, the one who'd vanished for five years only to return as if nothing had happened, was apparently a... father? To four boys? My head was spinning. Truly what the fuck is going on here?
The tallest one - Dick, if I remembered correctly - stepped forward with an easy smile that reminded me so much of Bruce it was almost painful. "So you're Vivica," he said. "Bruce has told us a lot about you."
"Has he now?" I managed to say, though my voice sounded strange even to my own ears. That was interesting, considering Bruce had failed to mention any of them to me. Not one word about having a son, let alone three adopted children.
The second boy - Jason, I thought - was leaning against the staircase railing, studying me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. He had this streak of white in his dark hair and a scar near his jaw that made me wonder what kind of life he'd led before Bruce took him in.
Tim, the third one, seemed more reserved, offering a small wave from where he stood. But it was Damian who caught and held my attention. Those eyes - they were Bruce's eyes, calculating and sharp. He couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, but he carried himself like a much older person.
"Would you care for some tea, Miss Vivica?" Alfred's voice broke through my thoughts. Bless that man for always knowing exactly when to intervene.
"Yes, please," I said quickly, grateful for any excuse to process this situation. As I followed Alfred toward the kitchen, I could feel their eyes on my back. Four pairs of eyes, belonging to four boys who somehow shared a piece of Bruce that I knew nothing about.
I had so many questions, but the biggest one was burning in my throat: Why hadn't Bruce told me about any of them? And, why did that small look like Bruce so much?
As Alfred busied himself with the tea preparations, I couldn't hold back the question any longer. The kitchen felt safer, more private, away from those watchful eyes in the foyer.
"Alfred," I said, keeping my voice low even though the boys were out of earshot, "why does Damian look exactly like Bruce? I mean, it's uncanny. He could be Bruce's mini clone."
Alfred paused for just a moment - so briefly I almost missed it - before continuing to arrange cups on the silver tray. "Ah, well, that would be because Master Damian is indeed Master Bruce's biological son. His mother is Talia al Ghul."
I nearly choked on air. "Talia al Ghul?" Who the fuck is that? All these cartoonish ass names. "Who is she? And when... how..." I couldn't even form a complete sentence. Another piece of Bruce's missing five years clicked into place, but instead of providing clarity, it only raised more questions.
"Alfie," I said, wrapping my hands around the teacup he'd just set in front of me, "was Damian... I mean, did Bruce know about him before he left Gotham?" I needed to know if this was yet another secret he'd kept from me, even back then. Because if Bruce cheated on me all hell is going to rain down on his ass.
The way Alfred carefully measured his next words made my stomach tighten. "Master Bruce... discovered Damian's existence during his time away," he said delicately. "The young master came to live with us after Master Bruce's return. Apparently his mother kept him from Master Bruce when he was born. They happened before you and him got together."
I took a long sip of tea to hide whatever expression was trying to form on my face. I really needed something stronger than this. So Bruce hadn't known either. Somehow, that made me feel both better and worse at the same time. Better because he hadn't been keeping this massive secret from me all those years ago, but worse because... well, what other surprises from his five-year disappearance might suddenly show up at Wayne Manor?
"Okay, Alfie enough! But, what the hell is going on? I feel like I'm on crack right now! The other night Bruce came to my house dressed like a big ass Bat on steroids...." looked behind me to see them peaking at me around the corner. "And, now you telling me this man had KIDS! KIDS!? AND, ONE IS ACTUALLY HIS!" I yelled, my heart beating a thousand per second.
Before Alfred could answer I heard the front door open. I walked out the kitchen as the boys kept their eyes on me. Probably knowing this was going to be some shit.
Bruce opens the door and smiled at me but it fell once he saw my face and looked past me seeing the boys and huffed walking in. I nodded and crossed my arms.
"Bruce, kindly explain to me what I'm looking at?" I said, nudging my head to the boys. He signed and tried to reach for me but I brushed him away.
"Don't you get mad at them. Why didn't you tell me you adopted children and oh.....y-" I cut myself off at the boy I was going to mention as he looked between us and smirked. "Hello, Father." He said.
I looked down at him and back at Bruce letting out a dry chuckle and walked towards the staircase.
"GET YOUR ASS UP THESE STEPS!" I yelled, not bothering to look back. "BRUCE IF YOUR WHITE ASS IS NOT UP THESE STEPS BOUT TIME I REACH THIS ROOM, IMMA STICK MY KATES SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU GON KNOW WHEN I GOT THEM!"
"Genuinely what the fuck is going on?"
My sweet Dumpling
Narrative
The stars twinkled above them, a backdrop of shimmering diamonds against the vast tapestry of night. The faint sounds of laughter and music from the distant homecoming dance faded into a comforting silence around them.
Clark turned slightly, casting a sideways glance at Honey, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight. Her eyes sparkled with joy, reflecting the happiness of the night they had shared. He took a deep breath, grateful for moments like this, where the world felt simple and right.
“Tonight was amazing,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Honey smiled, her cheeks flushed from the evening air, “It really was. I had so much fun.”
There was a comfortable pause, each lost in thoughts about the night—dancing under the lights, laughter shared, and the warmth of their connection. Clark felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, bringing him back to the moment.
“Do you ever think about the future?” Honey asked, her tone shifting slightly, a hint of seriousness weaving into their casual conversation.
Clark hesitated, the weight of her question settling in. “Sometimes,” he replied. “I think about what we want… where we want to be.”
Honey tilted her head, curious. “And what do you want?”
He thought for a moment, then replied, “I want to be with people I care about, making memories like this. It’s the little moments that matter.”
Honey looked deep into his eyes, her expression thoughtful. “I feel the same way. Moments like this, they make everything else fade away. Nothing else matters.”
As the cool breeze rustled the grass around them, Clark leaned his head back against a nearby tree, both of them enveloped in the tranquil atmosphere. It felt easy, being here, with her.
“Do you think we’ll still do this when we’re older?” Honey’s voice was soft, but it held a hint of hope.
“We’ll always find a way to make time for each other,” Clark affirmed, tightening his grip on her hand.
They lingered in the moment, steeped in the warmth of shared dreams and quiet promises, the stars above silently witnessing their connection deepened.
Clark took a deep breath, the air heavy with unspoken words. He turned to face Honey completely, her gaze still fixed in the distance, lost in thought. It was now or never. His heart raced, and he felt the soft pulse of vulnerability surge through him.
“Honey,” he began, his tone earnest, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.”
She turned to look at him, her curiosity piqued. “What is it, Clark?”
He could see her eyes glimmer with anticipation, and it gave him the courage he needed. “I’ve been thinking, especially tonight, about what we mean to each other. I… I love you.”
Honey's expression shifted, surprise mingling with a rush of emotions. “You love me?” she echoed, a hint of disbelief dancing in her voice.
“Yes, but it’s more than just friendship,” he continued, his heart pounding as he spoke. “I’ve felt this way for a while now. You’re not just my best friend; you mean so much more to me than that.”
The silence that followed felt like an eternity, and Clark’s stomach churned with both hope and dread. He was terrified of how she might respond.
Honey's breath caught as she processed his words, her eyes wide. “Clark, I…”
Before she could finish, he rushed to explain, “I know this might be a lot, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship. But I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. You’ve been my rock, my confidant, and being with you feels… right.”
A soft smile began to form on her lips, and relief washed over him. “I feel something special between us too,” she admitted, her voice a soft whisper. “I just didn’t know you felt the same way.”
Clark's heart soared at her words. “So, what does this mean for us?” he asked, anticipation hanging in the air.
Honey paused, biting her lip as she contemplated. “I think we should explore this… whatever it is we have. I want to see where it leads.”
A grin broke across Clark’s face, the weight of unspoken fears lifting. “Really?” he asked, needing to hear it again.
“Yeah,” she replied, her cheeks flushing with warmth. “I’m excited… and a little scared, but mostly excited.”
They shared a moment of understanding, a bridge crossed into uncharted territory. Clark felt an overwhelming sense of happiness as he took her hand in both of his, their fingers intertwining.
“I’m glad,” he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ve wanted to say that for so long.”
Honey nestled closer, resting her head against his shoulder again, both comforted and exhilarated by the new depth of their relationship.
The tranquil night surrounded them, and the stars seemed to shine brighter as they sat together, hearts racing, ready to embrace this new chapter in their lives.
"My Sweet Dumpling loves me." She whispered, smiling. Clark kissed the top of her head and nodded, "I've always loved you." He whispered back.
𝓒𝓱. 13
Narrative
The aroma of fresh coffee and warm pastries filled the cozy brunch spot as Ashley sat across from her cousins, fidgeting with her napkin. Lea and Nae exchanged knowing looks – they'd never seen their usually composed cousin this nervous.
"Okay, spill," Lea said, leaning forward. "You've been spacing out since we got here."
Ashley took a deep breath, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I shifted last night."
"Finally!" Nae exclaimed, earning a few curious glances from nearby tables. She lowered her voice, "It's been what, months?"
"That's not all," Ashley continued, her cheeks flushing. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was running and crossed into Quileute territory."
Nae lifted her brows and chuckled, "Okay?...like I know you're not used to the barrier or lines...or whatever you wanna call it. But, what are you looking so nervous for?"
"I know, I know," Ashley groaned, burying her face in her hands. "But something happened while I was there. I... I saw one of them. One of the wolves."
Nae's eyes widened with interest, a knowing smile spreading across her face. She shared a quick glance with Lea before turning back to Ashley. "And?"
"It was different," Ashley whispered, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for her untouched muffin. "The moment our eyes met, it was like... like the whole world shifted. Like gravity wasn't holding me to the earth anymore – he was."
"Oh my god," Nae squealed, grabbing Ashley's arm. "You imprinted! Tell me everything – what did he look like? Which one was it?" Her excitement was palpable as she continued, "I mean, you know I'm with Jake, and Lea's got Embry, so..."
Ashley stared into her coffee cup, trying to recall the details through the overwhelming emotion of the moment. "His fur... it was dark and brown, but not completely black. And his eyes..." She trailed off, lost in the memory.
"That doesn't narrow it down much," Lea said thoughtfully, stirring her tea. "There are still a few pack members it could be."
"I just... I've never felt anything like it," Ashley admitted, finally looking up at her cousins. "But I ran. I was so shocked, I just turned and ran. What if I never find out who he is?"
Nae reached across the table, squeezing Ashley's hand. "Trust me, if it's really an imprint, you'll find each other again. The pull is too strong to ignore.....that's how it was when it happened with Jake.
"But what if he's already..." Ashley couldn't finish the sentence, her chest tightening at the thought.
"Hey," Lea interrupted firmly, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. First things first – we need to figure out who your mystery wolf is. And something tells me we won't have to wait long to find out."
Chapter 9
Narrative
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across Mikayla's backyard as she moved between the neat rows of their family garden. Her siblings had left for dinner in town about an hour ago, but she'd opted to stay behind, using her queasy stomach as an excuse. In truth, she'd been feeling off all day – not sick exactly, just unsettled, as if something was about to happen.
The woven basket in her arms grew heavier with each addition: ripe tomatoes still warm from the sun, crisp cucumbers hiding beneath broad leaves, and sweet bell peppers in vibrant shades of red and yellow. The familiar work helped calm her nerves, the earthy scent of the garden grounding her as she harvested the day's bounty.
Mikayla had just finished bringing the last basket into the kitchen when she heard it – three sharp knocks on the front door. She froze, her hand still resting on the basket handle. They weren't expecting company, and her family wouldn't knock at their own door. For a moment, she considered not answering, but curiosity got the better of her.
Her bare feet padded quietly across the wooden floors as she made her way through the house. The sun had dipped lower now, casting the entryway in amber light through the narrow window beside the door. Taking a deep breath, Mikayla turned the handle.
Edward Cullen stood on her front porch, the dying sunlight turning his pale skin to gold and setting his bronze hair aflame. His topaz eyes met hers, and Mikayla's stomach did more than flip – it seemed to vanish entirely, replaced by a swarm of butterflies. She gripped the doorframe for support, suddenly grateful she'd skipped dinner. She doubted she could have kept it down anyway, not with him standing there, looking at her like that.
"Mikayla," he said, her name sliding off his tongue like honey. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
She was acutely aware of her gardening clothes, the dirt under her fingernails, and her hair escaping her puff from the hat. Yet something in his expression made her think he didn't notice any of that – or maybe he just didn't care.
"No," she managed to say, proud that her voice came out steady. "I was just bringing in some vegetables from the garden. My family's out, they're..." She trailed off, suddenly realizing she was alone in the house with Edward Cullen. The thought sent another wave of butterflies through her stomach.
A slight smile played at the corners of his perfect mouth. "I know," he said softly. "That's why I came now. Can we talk?"
Mikayla's heart stuttered in her chest. Edward must have noticed her anxiety because his expression softened, and that crooked smile she loved so much appeared on his face.
"Don't worry," he added quickly. "It's nothing bad. Actually..." He ran a hand through his bronze hair, and for the first time since she'd known him, Edward Cullen looked almost nervous. "I've been trying to find the right moment to ask you something."
Mikayla's breath caught in her throat. "Oh?" was all she could manage to say.
Edward took a step closer, and that familiar scent of his – like winter air and honey – wrapped around her. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me this Saturday? There's a nice restaurant in Port Angeles I think you'd enjoy."
The butterflies in Mikayla's stomach erupted into a full-blown tornado. Edward Cullen was asking her on a date. Actually asking her on a real date. She realized she'd been silent too long when she saw uncertainty flicker across his perfect features.
"I'd love to," she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, but she knew he heard her because his entire face lit up with that dazzling smile that never failed to take her breath away.
"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised by her acceptance, which made no sense to Mikayla. How could he not know the effect he had on her?
"Yes, really," she said, finding her confidence in his apparent nervousness. "Though I have to admit, I'm a little surprised you came all the way here just to ask me that."
Edward's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I couldn't wait until tomorrow. Besides," he glanced at the garden visible through the window, "I like seeing you like this – relaxed, at home, surrounded by growing things. You seem... happy here."
Mikayla felt her cheeks flush with warmth. "I am happy," she said softly. "Especially right now."
He nodded and smiled lowly, "I guess I'll see you later." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
She felt her cheeks heat up as she watched him leave.
