#Kenya Insider

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Vulnerable Urban Life: These Largest Cities Will Face Extreme Climate Change Threats As global warming speeds up, its widespread effects are becoming more and more apparent. Climate change is reshaping our lives with higher temperatures and extreme weather events. In this context, cities worldwide are being examined closely for the wellbeing of their inhabitants. While some cities are being proactive in adjusting to the changing environment, others […]The post Vulnerable Urban Life: These Largest Cities Will Face Extreme Climate Change Threats appeared first on CEOWORLD magazine. Copyright CEOWORLD magazine 2023. https://ceoworld.biz/2023/09/13/vulnerable-urban-life-these-largest-cities-will-face-extreme-climate-change-threats/

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Inside Kenya’s most fearless demonstration led by Genzs and why this is the new dawn

Exclusive insights on Kenya’s most fearless demonstrations and why this could be the change we have been waiting for

[reasoningdaily]

Daniel Motaung, a former Facebook content moderator employed by Sama, photographed near his home in South Africa on Feb. 11, 2022. Motaung alleges Sama wrongfully terminated him in 2019 while he was attempting to start a union

In a drab office building near a slum on the outskirts of Nairobi, Kenya, nearly 200 young men and women from countries across Africa sit at desks glued to computer monitors, where they must watch videos of murders, rapes, suicides, and child sexual abuse.

These young Africans work for Sama, which calls itself an “ethical AI” outsourcing company and is headquartered in California.

Sama says its mission is to provide people in places like Nairobi with “dignified digital work.” Its executives can often be heard saying that the best way to help poor countries is to “give work, not aid.” The company claims to have helped lift more than 50,000 people in the developing world out of poverty.

This benevolent public image has won Sama data-labeling contracts with some of the largest companies in the world, including Google, Microsoft and Walmart. What the company doesn’t make public on its website is its relationship with its client Facebook.

Here in Nairobi, Sama employees who speak at least 11 African languages between them toil day and night, working as outsourced Facebook content moderators: the emergency first responders of social media. They perform the brutal task of viewing and removing illegal or banned content from Facebook before it is seen by the average user.

Since 2019, this Nairobi office block has been the epicenter of Facebook’s content moderation operation for the whole of Sub-Saharan Africa. Its remit includes Ethiopia, where Facebook is trying to prevent content on its platform contributing to incitement to violence in an escalating civil war.

Despite their importance to Facebook, the workers in this Nairobi office are among the lowest-paid workers for the platform anywhere in the world, with some of them taking home as little as $1.50 per hour, a TIME investigation found. The testimonies of Sama employees reveal a workplace culture characterized by mental trauma, intimidation, and alleged suppression of the right to unionize. The revelations raise serious questions about whether Facebook—which periodically sends its own employees to Nairobi to monitor Sama’s operations—is exploiting the very people upon whom it is depending to ensure its platform is safe in Ethiopia and across the continent. And just as Facebook needs them most, TIME can reveal that content moderators at Sama are leaving the company in droves due to poor pay and working conditions, with six Ethiopians resigning in a single week in January.

The office in Nairobi, Kenya, where Facebook content moderators began working in 2019, photographed on Feb 10, 2022. Sama was known publicly as Samasource until early 2021.

Khadija Farah for TIME

“The work that we do is a kind of mental torture,” one employee, who currently works as a Facebook content moderator for Sama, told TIME. “Whatever I am living on is hand-to-mouth. I can’t save a cent. Sometimes I feel I want to resign. But then I ask myself: what will my baby eat?”

TIME is aware of at least two Sama content moderators who chose to resign after being diagnosed with mental illnesses including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), anxiety, and depression. Many others described how they had been traumatized by the work but were unable to obtain formal diagnoses due to their inability to afford access to quality mental healthcare. Some described continuing with work despite trauma because they had no other options. While Sama employs wellness counselors to provide workers with on-site care in Nairobi, most of the content moderators TIME spoke to said they generally distrust the counselors. One former wellness counselor says that Sama managers regularly rejected counselors’ requests to let content moderators take “wellness breaks” during the day, because of the impact it would have on productivity.

Workers say Sama has also suppressed their efforts to secure better working conditions. In the summer of 2019, content moderators threatened to strike within seven days unless they were given better pay and working conditions. Instead of negotiating, Sama responded by flying two highly-paid executives from San Francisco to Nairobi to deal with the uprising. Within weeks Daniel Motaung, the attempted strike’s leader who was in the process of formally filing trade union papers, had been fired—accused by Sama of taking action that would put the relationship between the company and Facebook at “great risk.” Sama told other participants in the labor action effort that they were expendable and said they should either resign or get back to work, several employees told TIME. The workers stood down before the seven days were up, and there was no pay increase.

Are you a content moderator at Sama or elsewhere? TIME would like to speak with you. Please get in touch with the author: billy.perrigo@time.com

“At Sama, it feels like speaking the truth or standing up for your rights is a crime,” a second employee tells TIME. “They made sure by firing some people that this will not happen again. I feel like it’s modern slavery, like neo-colonialism.” (Sama disputes this characterization, and said in a statement that its content moderators are paid triple the Kenyan minimum wage.)

Foxglove, a legal NGO based in London, says it has informed Sama it is preparing legal action in relation to its alleged wrongful termination of Motaung. “Firing workers for trying to organize is against the law,” says Cori Crider, Foxglove’s director. “Daniel did a brave thing by blowing the whistle here—as was his legal right.” The Katiba Institute, a Kenyan public-interest law firm, is assisting with the case.

Sama denies that there was any strike or labor action. “We value our employees and are proud of the long-standing work we have done to create an ethical AI supply chain,” Shriram Natarajan, the head of Sama’s Nairobi office, said in an emailed statement. “We exist to provide ethical AI to our global customers and we are proud of the role our employees play in building new online experiences and cleaning up the internet. It’s a tough job and it’s why we invest heavily in training, personal development, wellness programs, and competitive salaries.”

Facebook says it spent more than $5 billion on safety measures in 2021. It contracts the services of more than 15,000 content moderators globally, most of whom are employed by third-parties like Sama. In response to a detailed set of questions for this story, a spokesperson for Facebook’s parent company Meta said: “We take our responsibility to the people who review content for Meta seriously and require our partners to provide industry-leading pay, benefits and support. We also encourage content reviewers to raise issues when they become aware of them and regularly conduct independent audits to ensure our partners are meeting the high standards we expect of them.”

A strike, struck down

Daniel Motaung was a 27-year-old university graduate from South Africa looking for his first job when he came across an online ad from Sama seeking Zulu speakers.

It was early 2019, and Sama had recently won a contract to provide content moderation for Facebook’s Sub-Saharan Africa markets. Sama placed job ads in countries across Africa, both directly and through agencies, looking for people with fluency in different African languages who were willing to relocate to Kenya.

Motaung, like many other moderators TIME spoke with, says he had little idea what content moderation involved when he applied for the job. He thought it simply involved removing false information from social media. He says he was not informed during his interview that the job would require regularly viewing disturbing content that could lead to mental health problems. After he accepted and arrived in Kenya, Sama asked him to sign a non-disclosure agreement, and only then did they reveal to him the type of content he would be working with daily. By then, he felt it was too late to turn back.

Several other current and former content moderators described similar experiences of not being warned about the nature of the job. Two, from separate countries, said they had answered job ads placed via agencies for “call center agents.”

Elsewhere in the world, similar working conditions have landed Facebook in hot water. In 2020, the social network paid out $52 million to fund mental health treatment for some of its American content moderators following a lawsuit centered on mental ill health stemming from their work, including PTSD.

In the U.S. and Europe, many Facebook content moderators employed by the outsourcing firm Accenture are now asked to sign a waiver before they begin their jobs, acknowledging that they may develop PTSD and other mental health disorders. African content moderators working for Sama say they are not asked to sign such a waiver.

Read more: ‘I Sold My Soul.’ WhatsApp Content Moderators Review the Worst Material on the Internet. Now They’re Alleging Pay Discrimination

According to payslips seen by TIME, Sama pays foreign employees monthly pre-tax salaries of around 60,000 Kenyan shillings ($528), which includes a monthly bonus for relocating from elsewhere in Africa. After tax, this equates to around $440 per month, or a take-home wage of roughly $2.20 per hour, based on a 45-hour work week. Sama employees from within Kenya, who are not paid the monthly relocation bonus, receive a take-home wage equivalent to around $1.46 per hour after tax. In an interview with the BBC in 2018, Sama’s late founder Leila Janah attempted to justify the company’s levels of pay in the region. “One thing that’s critical in our line of work is to not pay wages that would distort local labor markets,” she said. “If we were to pay people substantially more than that, we would throw everything off.”

Employees themselves didn’t see it that way. One day in July 2019, Motaung got talking to a group of other moderators who were hired four months previously. He recounts that many said they felt the job that they had applied for was not the one they were doing, and discussed their low pay and poor working environment.

Some said they had done research that showed content moderators in other countries were being paid far more for the same work. They resolved to group together and take action to better their conditions. Motaung took the lead, and he and his colleagues created a WhatsApp group chat to begin canvassing opinion more widely. Soon, the group had more than 100 members.

Employees who were in the group chat say they discussed the trauma of the work and how many felt they had been hired under false pretenses. Kenyan employees said it was unfair that they were paid around 30% less than the foreigners in the office, and that they had not yet received the medical insurance they say they had been promised. Other employees were frustrated that Sama had recently introduced compulsory night shifts to meet Facebook’s demand for 24-hour coverage.

Based on the discussions in the chat, Motaung drafted a petition with a list of demands for Sama’s management, including that everyone’s pay be doubled. The document, seen by TIME, said that if management did not “substantively engage” with the demands within seven days, employees would go on strike.

Kibera, the largest informal settlement in Africa, out of which Sama says many of its workers are hired.

Khadija Farah for TIME.

The Alliance, as the group of employees began calling themselves, presented their petition to Sama’s management in a meeting on July 30, 2019. Two senior Sama executives from San Francisco joined via video-conference, but they dismissed the workers’ concerns, according to Motaung and others. “They told us there are lots of people who are dying to get this job, that they did research on the wages and this is a nice wage considering what people are getting in Kenya,” says one employee who was present during the meeting. A 2021 study carried out by three MIT researchers found the average salary at Sama including benefits was approximately 2.5 times the Kenyan minimum wage. But even so, these wages only cover the basic costs of living, workers say, and don’t allow them to save or improve their financial situations.

Within days, the two executives from San Francisco had arrived in Nairobi, and Motaung was suspended from his job pending a disciplinary hearing. Sama told Motaung some of his colleagues had accused him of bullying, intimidating and coercing them to sign their names to the list of demands. He was told to stay away from the office and barred from talking to his colleagues. Motaung says the allegations that he bullied more than 100 of his colleagues into signing a petition for better pay and working conditions are ridiculous. He suspects that Sama intimidated several of his former colleagues into making statements against him. “It was just them pretending to follow a process so that they can get rid of me quickly, so that everything can go back to normal,” he says. Sama did not comment on allegations of worker intimidation.

Meanwhile, other employees involved in the attempted strike action were being invited to individual meetings with Cindy Abramson, one of the executives who had flown in from San Francisco. Two employees who were particularly vocal during the worker revolt said that Abramson flattered them in these meetings, suggesting that they had leadership potential, and dangled the prospect of promotion if they could convince their colleagues to stand down.

Three rank-and-file participants in the labor action told TIME that during their own one-on-one meetings, Abramson, whose total compensation in 2018 was $194,390, according to Sama’s public filings, intimidated them into revoking their names from the petition, saying that they must choose between disaffiliating from the Alliance or losing their jobs. Her warnings were especially stark toward Kenyan employees, according to people with knowledge of the discussions. The Kenyans were reminded in the meetings that they were more easily replaceable than foreign employees, which many of them took as a threat of being fired if they did not stand down. Scared, many people started revoking their signatures from the petition. “They threatened us, and we backed down,” says one Kenyan employee, who reasoned that it was better to have a low-paying job than no job at all.

“There never was a strike or labor action,” Sama said in its statement to TIME. “Being a responsible employer, we wanted to see our team in person, meet with everyone face-to-face and address their concerns head-on. It’s why we flew members of our leadership team to our offices in Nairobi and it’s a decision we stand behind.” The statement also said that after employees asked for higher salaries, the company conducted a pay audit and found they were already being paid double the living wage for the region. Sama said it has since changed its onboarding processes to “be more transparent about what to expect and we intensified our onboarding program by developing new training modules to ensure team members were prepared on how to handle the functions of the role.” Abramson, who has since left Sama, declined to comment.

Two weeks after his suspension, Sama fired Motaung, claiming he was guilty of gross misconduct “for engaging in acts that could amount to bullying, harassment and coercion and that led to the disruption of business activities and put the relationship between Samasource and its client [Facebook] at great risk,” according to a termination letter dated August 20, 2019. (Sama was known publicly as Samasource until early 2021, when it changed its name as part of a transformation that also included switching from a non-profit organization to a business.) The letter also noted Motaung’s leadership role within the Alliance, and said that he had advised his colleagues not to attend one-on-one meetings with management. Sama did not respond to questions about its firing of Motaung, but said in its statement that it had dismissed three employees who had “violated workplace rules.”

In the days before he was terminated, Motaung was busy drafting documents that would have formally established the Alliance as a union under Kenyan law. “I think they found out. While I was doing that, I received a letter terminating my employment,” he says. Motaung’s work permit was then canceled, leaving him just three weeks to leave Kenya for his native South Africa.

Kenyan labor law says employees are protected from dismissal as a result of “past, present or anticipated trade union membership,” and the Kenyan constitution says every worker has the right to go on strike.

Before he left Kenya, Motaung says, he handed the union incorporation papers to another employee in the movement. But the resolve of the Alliance had been broken, and the union never materialized. “We were in shock, devastated, broken,” one employee said. “And then life continued. After that, nobody dared to speak about it.”

For a time, however, a spark of resistance remained. Jason White, a former Afrikaans quality analyst from South Africa, says Sama fired him around a year later, in the summer of 2020. He had been a participant in the Alliance, and continued to ask questions even after most of his colleagues had given up. He says he regularly asked managers whether Sama was deducting too much tax from employees’ payslips, and why his girlfriend, also an employee with the company at the time, was not provided a work permit despite being promised one.

In July 2020, White and a colleague took their concerns to the South African embassy in Nairobi. In a series of emails, reviewed by TIME, and then at a meeting in person, the pair informed South African officials about the thwarted strike and Motaung’s firing the previous year, and how some of their colleagues believed they had been hired under false pretenses. The officials promised to investigate, but never followed up. The embassy did not respond to a request for comment.

After that, “there was a definite change in behavior from [Sama’s] top management,” White says. Soon after, a Sama manager offered him a payment equivalent to two months’ salary on the condition that he stop mentioning the pay and conditions at Sama to anybody, he says. He declined.

Then, White says, he was called into a disciplinary hearing, charged with having unauthorized contact with a Facebook employee, forbidden under his employment contract. White says he believes this was a reference to an email that he had sent to a Facebook staffer who had previously visited the Nairobi office, in which he had revealed his pay to her and asked her whether she believed Sama was exploiting him and other employees. Although he never received a reply, he believes that the employee told Facebook, who informed Sama. “The company saw that as a good opportunity to use that against me,” he says. Sama did not address TIME’s questions about White’s dismissal or the alleged payment offer extended to him. A Facebook spokesperson said that the email’s recipient had followed protocol.

A system driven by Facebook

Once every few months, Facebook employees travel from Dublin to Nairobi to lead trainings, brief content moderators on new policies, and answer questions. Five content moderators said that ahead of these meetings, Sama managers regularly instruct workers not to discuss their pay with Facebook staff.

But satisfying Facebook is at the center of the work culture Sama has created.

When Idris (one of the content moderators cited above who asked to use a pseudonym out of fear for his personal safety and job prospects) arrives at Sama’s office in Sameer Business Park each day, he logs into a piece of software designed by Facebook.

As soon as Idris looks at his first piece of content, a clock starts ticking. He might be confronted with graphic images or videos depicting dismemberment, murder or rape. No matter how disturbing the content, Idris must make a decision within 50 seconds about whether to take down or leave up this material—a target laid down by his Sama bosses.

Every week, his average handling time (AHT) is measured against the 50 second target during a formal review process. (The target can rise as high as 70 seconds, or sink as low as 36, depending on workload and staffing, according to employees.) If Idris takes too long reviewing each piece of content, he might be reprimanded by his team leader. If the problem persists, he will be pulled off working for Sama’s contract with Facebook and put on an internal training program instead. If he still does not work fast enough, he believes, he could be fired.

Moderators like Idris are expected to maintain an AHT of around 50 seconds, regardless of whether the video they are reviewing is minutes or even hours long. Facebook guidelines seen by TIME—previously unreported—instruct content moderators to watch only the first 15 seconds of a video before marking it as OK to remain on the platform and moving onto the next piece of content—as long as the title, transcript, top comments and thumbnail of the video appear to be innocent, and no users nor Facebook’s AI systems have flagged specific points in the video.

Through its prioritization of speed and efficiency above all else, this policy might explain why videos containing hate speech and incitement to violence have remained on Facebook’s platform in Ethiopia.

TIME reviewed several examples of lengthy Facebook Live videos that contained hate speech and incitement to violence well into the body of the videos. In one example, a two-hour long video with more than 1,000 views, a man speaking Amharic says that anyone married to Tigrayans or Oromos—two major ethnic groups from Ethiopia—are traitors and enemies of the state. In a coded call for ethnic cleansing, the man says that Amharas must not live in an Ethiopia that contains members of those groups.

An Ethiopian digital rights group, Network Against Hate Speech, told TIME in March 2021 that it had reported this video and more than 70 others to Facebook. But this video was not taken down until at least three months later.

“The majority of posts that have taken [a] long [time] before removal … are videos,” Network Against Hate Speech told TIME in an email last year. In the months since, the Ethiopian civil war has only escalated, with reports of mass atrocities and murders of civilians along ethnic lines.

Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen said in an interview that the working conditions described by content moderators at Sama appear to have had a serious impact on Facebook’s ability to police content in Ethiopia. “I am entirely unsurprised that these moderators are not being treated with the dignity that they deserve,” she told TIME. “It is tragic that the consequence of this devaluing of human beings is that others, in some of the most vulnerable places in the world, are now suffering as well.”

Adding to the pressure they feel, Idris and other Sama content moderators are also expected to make the correct call at least 84% of the time: a target known as “quality score,” which team leaders track each week and use to measure what they deem to be underperformance.

Some pieces of content are reviewed twice, first by Idris, and then by a more senior “quality analyst,” who is generally a former content moderator with good knowledge of Facebook’s policies. If the pair disagree on whether a piece of content should be permitted to remain on the platform, the quality analyst’s decision is taken as final, and Idris’s quality score ticks downward. Even if they agree a piece of content should be removed, they must also agree on the reason for removal.

Facebook has put some features in place to help protect moderators, like the option to render videos in black and white or add blurring. But one Sama employee says that he does not use these options because of the pressure to meet quotas. “How can you clearly see whether content is violating or not unless you can see it clearly? If it’s black and white or blurred, I cannot tell,” the employee says. “Some people use the option, but I don’t. Because if I wrongly action that [content], I will be marked down.”

Employees say they are expected to work for up to nine hours per day including breaks, and their screen time is monitored. “I cannot blink,” one employee says. “They expect me to work each and every second.” In a statement, Sama said that it caps working hours for content moderators at 37 hours per week, however TIME reviewed an employment contract from 2019 that said workers can be expected to work for up to 45 hours per week without additional compensation. It is unclear whether that includes breaks.

TIME reviewed several copies of Sama content moderators’ performance reviews, where they were measured against target metrics for AHT and quality. In one email, a manager chastises a content moderator for spending too much time not moderating content while logged in.

Employees say that on a typical working day, they are expected to spend around eight hours logged into Facebook’s content moderation program. On such a day, a target of 50 seconds per piece of content would equate to a de-facto daily quota of nearly 580 items.

This evidence appears to contradict public statements that Facebook has made in the past about expectations it places on its contractors. “A common misconception about content reviewers is that they’re driven by quotas and pressured to make hasty decisions,” Ellen Silver, Facebook’s vice president of operations, said in a 2018 blog post. “Let me be clear: content reviewers aren’t required to evaluate any set number of posts … We encourage reviewers to take the time they need.”

A Meta spokesperson, Ben Walters, said Meta asks contractors like Sama to encourage moderators to take as much time as they need to make decisions. The video guidelines, he said, were designed to allow content moderators to use their best judgment so as to avoid wasting time on long videos that do not appear to contain policy violations. Sama did not respond to questions about its workflows or targets.

Idris says that while Sama management, not Facebook, are the ones pressuring content moderators over their metrics, he thinks it is clear that they do so because of anxieties about what it would mean if the company did not meet Facebook’s expectations. “That is always their excuse: the client has seen your AHT is high,’” Idris says, referring to times he is put under pressure by his manager. A former employee adds: “They only care about pleasing the client.”

Content moderators at Sama are meant to receive “wellness breaks” of at least an hour per week, to help them deal with seeing traumatizing content. But some employees described having to “beg” to be allowed to take their allotted wellness breaks.

A former counselor said that Sama managers, not counselors, had the final say over when and whether content moderators were allowed to take breaks. The counselor witnessed managers repeatedly rejecting content moderators’ requests for breaks, citing productivity pressures. “There is a clinical responsibility in our job to ensure that the moderators are cared for,” said the former counselor, who asked not to be named. “This responsibility is not fully being fulfilled. Sama is more interested in productivity than the safety of the moderator.”

Enter the virus

When Kenya went into COVID lockdown in March of 2020, Sama announced that it would hire out two luxury lodges in the countryside for its employees to relocate to, in order that they could continue their work uninterrupted. Many took up the offer, which was optional, and left their families behind. Dozens of Sama’s Facebook content moderators moved into the Lukenya Getaway resort a short drive away from Nairobi, where rooms typically cost more per night than an average Kenyan content moderator at Sama makes in a week.

Less than two miles from Sama's office is Mukuru kwa Njenga, one of the largest informal settlements in Nairobi.

Khadija Farah for TIME

In November 2021, Sama finally reopened the doors to its office near the Nairobi slum, Mukuru kwa Njenga. Employees, many of whom had not received a single COVID-19 vaccine, say they were pressured to return to the building even as cases of the Omicron variant rose in the city.

Some attributed the decision to a belief among managers that content moderators’ quality scores and Average Handling Times would improve if they were physically present. (Several employees said the return to the office had had the opposite effect.)

Soon there was an outbreak of COVID in the office, and many content moderators started requesting sick leave. Instead of granting all of them, a Sama HR manager informed employees via text message that they would not be granted sick leave unless they received a note from one of two specific hospitals.

As a result, some employees who couldn’t access those hospitals went to the office even if they had symptoms, two employees said.

In its statement, Sama said it had offered unlimited COVID-related sick days in response to the pandemic. “As we reopened our offices, we’ve worked to keep our team safe by following CDC guidelines, having nurses on site, utilizing 20% of the office space to encourage social distancing, and we’ve hosted three vaccination drives to make it as easy as possible to get vaccinated if employees choose,” the company said.

Outsourcing trauma to the developing world

In an era where Facebook has come under sustained fire for failing to stem the flow of misinformation, hate speech and incitement to violence on its platforms, the company is often praised when it says it is increasing the number of dollars it spends on safety.

But hiring content moderators in the U.S. and Europe is expensive compared to the cheap labor available in Kenya and other countries in the Global South like India and the Philippines.

The rise of content moderation centers in these countries has led some observers to raise concerns that Facebook is profiting from exporting trauma along old colonial axes of power, away from the U.S. and Europe and toward the developing world.

“Outsourcing is a scam that lets Facebook rake in billions while pretending worker exploitation and union-busting is somebody else’s fault,” says Crider, the Foxglove lawyer who is currently preparing a legal case against Sama. “But it’s not just Sama,” she added. “Foxglove has been working with Facebook moderators around the world for years – and these people have had it with exploitation, the strain of toxic content, and suppression of their right to unionize.”

Almost all of the employees TIME spoke to for this story described being profoundly emotionally affected by the content they were exposed to at Sama – trauma that they said was often exacerbated by the way they have been treated in their jobs.

Many expressed the opinion that they might be able to handle the trauma of the job – even take pride that they were sacrificing their own mental health to keep other people safe on social media – if only Sama and Facebook would treat them with respect, and pay them a salary that factors in their lasting trauma.

In its statement to TIME, Sama said it had “revisited” its mental health processes after employees raised concerns in 2019 “and made further enhancements, and provided additional coaching to team leads.” But employees say the protections remain inadequate to this day. “When it comes to your personal welfare,” one employee says, “You are not treated like a real human.”

After returning to South Africa after being fired, Motaung, the leader of the failed 2019 strike, says it felt like everything around him crashed. He went to Pretoria to look for work, but struggled. He lost a lot of weight.

“I was not OK mentally, emotionally,” he says. He eventually returned to a village in the mountains where he has family. “When I got home, they were like, what happened to you? What were you doing in Kenya? I couldn’t even talk about it because I signed an NDA.”

Sama extended Motaung access to its wellness counselors for one extra month after his departure, as it does for all outgoing employees. But Motaung didn’t take up the offer. He had attended wellness sessions around once a week when he was in Kenya, but found them unhelpful. “Those people …It was sort of like we were there for their entertainment, or there for them simply to get paid,” he says. “Whereas the help that we really needed, we were not getting.”

Motaung says he is still dealing with the trauma he incurred at Sama, but is unable to afford a therapist. “If you do this work, it’s very hard not to experience permanent scars to your emotions and mental state,” he says.

In conversation, Motaung still avoids any specific mention of what he saw during his work, conscious that he is still bound by the NDA. What he will say is that he had a traumatic experience, and that he still gets flashbacks. He expects to carry the burden of that trauma with him until the day he dies. “That sort of thing can change who you are,” he says. “It can destroy the fiber of your entire being.”

[a-simple-imagine]

Perfectly Pathetic

synopsis: when you take an interest in the new girl, regina takes an interest in you

pairing: regina george x plastics!fem!reader

words: 4.6k+

A/N - in the nicest of ways, please DO NOT read this if you don't want to read about toxic relationships. you have been warned. I don't want a repeat of last time. also we need more fics where regina is actually mean so

WARNINGS - swearing, alcohol use, general toxicity, toxic relationships and bullying/vague reference to weight

Buy me a ko-fi

the clash of plastic trays and idle chatter brought alive the fragile student body of North Shore High School. on the outside this may seem like any other lunch room but inside it was a carefully crafted game of chess. every move was calculated. each person has their place and if you stray too far you're at risk. you're sat next to Gretchen Weiners. known for big hair and keeping secrets, she knows everything about everyone. opposite her is Karen Shetty. she... tries her best and looks adorable doing it. a ray of sunshine if you get to know her. and before you sits the most beautiful woman you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Regina George. effortlessly perfect but needlessly cruel. she was the most popular person in school and one of your best friends.

perfectly manicured nails stab into the skin of your cheek as your head is yanked in her direction. razor-sharp eyes stare back. "are you even listening?" the answer was no but you didn't want to say that. "what are you staring at?"

a flash of blonde as she looks behind her. you push against her grip to look too. across the room sat Janis 'imi'ike and Damian Hubbard. you hardly ever spoke to them but you were lab partners with Damian. he was funny. today, however, there was a new addition with strawberry blonde hair, a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. you knew everyone at this school to some degree. a curse of popularity. but you had never seen her before. "seems they've got themselves a new friend"

"who cares," her nails dig a little deeper drawing a pained expression as she pulls your head back to face her. She holds your gaze for a moment. a silent challenge. before fingertips glide across your cheek and she goes back to leading the conversation across the table. you pick at the food on the tray with a fork but you can't help but be intrigued. North Shore was boring and predictable. a direct result of being under Regina's control. but this girl was new and you couldn't help but be drawn to that. to the unknown. to the possibility. three pairs of eyes as you push up from the table and march across the room.

"I haven't seen you around here before." was all you could think to say as you approached the end of the table. Janis and Damian share a look before settling on... confusion. You weren't ever particularly mean to others but you were guilty by association. people mess with you. they mess with Regina.

"oh," by the look on her face, she already knew who you were or at the very least your friends. "it's my first day."

"Where did you transfer from?"

"uh... Kenya," she seems unsure. you put it down to nerves.

"you sure about that?" a curious raise of your brow. "'cause you don't sound-"

"we're leaving" stated firmly as three girls breeze past. the blonde leads the way. the other two are just a step behind.

"so what made you move all the way here from Kenya?"

"my mom got a new job."

"couldn't find one-"

the sound of your name echoes through the room bringing the world to a stop. a weird silence settles over the room. "come. now." growled through gritted teeth and paired with snapping fingers. you were being summoned like a naughty dog ignoring their owner. a sigh as all eyes fall to you. waiting to see what you'd do but make no mistake, they already knew the answer.

"I'll see you around." a flash of a smile before you scamper after Regina.

"so your ears do work." is all the girl says as she shoves you through the door. you bite back any comment because that was how this worked. you may be top of the food chain to everyone else but Regina led the pack.

as the final bell for the day rings, you're shoving things in your locker when you spot the new girl. she seems to be struggling to even open it. you watch her for a moment. a smirk settling. this was another chance to talk and this time Regina couldn't demand your presence. "need some help?" it seemed to take her by surprise as a handful of papers drifted to the floor. a small chuckle, you reach down to collect her work and hand it back. "how's your first day going?"

she shrugs, taking the papers. "it's alright."

"anyone giving you any trouble?" you ask, falling to lean against the lockers. people around here were not nice and took every chance to show it. some more than others. She shakes her head. "you sure? if anyone does anything, I can sort them out." you give her a knowing look and she offers a sort of amused smile. "so you do know how to smile, it's cute. are you gonna tell me your name or am I gonna have to guess?"

"it's cady. Cady heron."

"well, cady heron. the trick to these," you tap her locker door with your knuckle. "is to push in and pull up before trying to open it. annoying, I know but they're old." you watch her try again and this time it swings open. "see."

"Thanks." you linger as they shove some of their stuff inside. you notice a few stray stickers on the locker opposite.

"no problem." you push up from the metal. "I can show you all types of tricks to get through this hellscape if you want?" she shuts her locker and you both start walking towards the exit. "number one tip, avoid Regina."

"Isn't she your friend?"

"yeah," you nod. "that's why I said it. She can be... a lot. surely Janis told you that."

Cady looks at you for a long moment. "something like that." you let out a chuckle. Janis probably told her what a massive bitch Regina was. they had a less than favourable history.

"I should go. I'll see you around Cady Heron." as you both go your separate ways, you can't help but glance at her as she walks away.

having a study period just before lunch was both an absolutely ridiculous idea and the best thing to happen to your schedule. it basically guaranteed you didn't do any work whatsoever and felt more like a two-hour lunch period. seems you shared it with the new girl because she was sitting at a table scribbling in a book alongside Janis who was doing her normal embroidery or whatever.

"if it isn't Cady Heron," you comment, taking a seat on the bench. her face brightens at the sight.

"where's the rest of the coven?" Janis asks, not even bothering to look up from her work. "wait- don't tell me, a house fell on them."

"you're so funny Janis," an exaggerated sarcastic laugh.

"I think I can hear children singing... ding... dong the witch-"

"So Cady, how are you enjoying north shore?" you interrupt loudly and the 'song' trails off.

"It's fine."

"you don't talk much huh?"

her mouth opens but falls silent as Gretchen approaches the end of the table. she shoots you a less than favourable look. your brow furrows a little.

"Can I talk to you," pitch a little too high to say no.

"Sure," a shrug. you look at her for a long moment waiting for her to continue.

"in private," Gretchen urges. with a roll of your eyes, you stand up. flashing a smile at Cady, Gretchen grabs your hand and drags you away before you can say anything.

"what are you doing?" whisper yelled at you.

"I was just talking." god this girl was dramatic. you take your usual spot. she sits opposite.

"to the art freaks?"

"dude, it's fine."

"no it's not." she urges quickly, shaking her head "You know how Regina gets."

"Regina isn't here?" and she wouldn't be until lunch. only you and Gretchen share this free period. usually, you spend it listening to her gossip about people. she could not keep a secret to save her life at least not when it came to anyone outside of you and your friends; even then it's dicey. fun for you though.

"All I'm saying is you need to be careful,"

"don't worry. I was only interested in the new girl."

"that's worse," you just roll your eyes. "Regina doesn't like her."

"Regina doesn't even know her," you argue. "none of us do. she's been here like a week."

Gretchen thinks the idea of even wanting to talk to Cady is blasphemy. that it's better to avoid her but you think she's overreacting. Cady hadn't established herself at this school yet. right now she is with Janis but tomorrow who knows? she could be cool. it's a matter of perspective.

a pretty perfect smile does little to distract from playful eyes as you approach her jeep. the blonde is in the driver's seat. one hand rested over the steering wheel. the other typing something on her phone. She had sent a message telling you to hurry up but on arrival, neither Karen nor Gretchen were even here yet. you toss your bag in the back, climbing into your usual spot behind the driver's seat. Karen is usually next to you. "sit in the front, weirdo," she comments. you don't bother with a comeback, just moving to the front passenger seat.

"Where are the others?" you ask, glancing at her. the soft glow of the afternoon sun kissed her skin beautifully. black shades hang on the end of her nose. She really was something to be admired. Regina shrugs and then tosses her phone down. the car roars to life and you're starting down the road before you can think any more about it. it's pretty silent at first. the sound of the radio filling the space. the lack of your two other friends acting as a buffer was sitting weirdly. this wasn't your first time alone with Regina but she's been so grumpy lately. whatever you say feels like an invitation.

"so you like the new girl?" asked casually as she came to an abrupt stop at a red light. you just forward, the seatbelt digging into your neck. it drags up a quick cough but that could also be from surprise. other than that first interaction where she'd summoned you from across the room, you had never spoken to Cady when she was around. Gretchen may be dramatic but she probably wasn't wrong and you really didn't feel like risking it.

"Sorry?" feign confusion was... a choice but it seemed like the better option here.

"you like the new girl," repeated calmly; her eyes drift to you as yours move towards the traffic light. was this the longest red light in history? "right?"

now it's your turn to shrug. you find Cady intriguing but you're not entirely sure if it's interested in the way Regina is implying or just because you were so bored of the every day. "she's cool." a scoff as she pulls away continuing down the road. "you've hardly spoken to her."

"don't need to," Regina didn't miss a beat. Cady definitely didn't fit into what she'd consider cool but then again, neither had you. not entirely anyway and now you're here. you hang out with the most popular people in school. went to the hottest parties. you were currently being driven around by the Regina George. you never understood why or maybe you did and just refused to accept it was that simple. you know what everyone else says. that it's because of the attention you show her. you wouldn't necessarily say they're wrong but everyone gave her attention. She did always say there was something special about you. "I thought you at least had standards."

the rest of the car ride is silent as you think over what she said and Regina keeps to herself. the music is the only thing, keeping you sane until you pull up at the George residence. you always forget just how big her house is until you're there. As you walk inside, her mum appears abruptly startling you a little.

"hey, ms. George."

"hey girls," she singsonged. "how was school?"

"fine," Regina shoots back.

"well if you need anything? a drink? some snacks? advice? I'm here,"

"I'd actually love an iced-"

"we're good," growled as she grabbed your wrist hauling you up the stairs. "don't bother us." a confused look but she didn't let go until you were firmly inside her bedroom. door slammed shut. the blonde tosses her bag down.

"you should really be nicer to your mom, she adores you," you say idly taking a seat on the end of her bed, placing your bag down.

"you should shut up because it's none of your fucking business."

jesus christ. you kinda regret the decision to come over. "I just wanted an iced tea. maybe a little snack."

"god knows you don't need it," Regina comments. wow. okay. she was in a mood.

"what's up with you?"

"I'm fine," she responds. "you're just being so fucking annoying recently."

"I haven't done anything?" you've not been acting any differently so you have no clue what she's talking about.

"just absolutely drooling over the new girl. it's embarrassing." she declares, taking a seat on the bed.

"I..." you stop yourself because you're more confused than anything else. "we've spoken like once."

"liar" she responds. "I know you've been talking all the time," fucking Gretchen. "do you think she's pretty?"

"Cady?" Regina nods. you shrug. "I guess."

"prettier than me?" her head tilts. you can't tell if she was jealous or fishing for compliments; neither was her style. so it was probably a trap.

"no." you wanna say she's being dramatic but that wouldn't end well. She doesn't say anything, hardly even reacts. just cold eyes. Is she expecting you to say more? "of course not." you're waiting for the ball to drop. for her to make a snide comment or something. anything was better than nothing. but it just never comes. she takes out her phone and starts typing. you fall back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. you both just sit in the quiet. you're worried about saying anything that'll lead to more insults. god knows what she is doing on her phone.

"you're so pathetic." Regina eventually says. you'd take offence if you weren't used to it; basically a term of endearment at this point. you can hear her moving but don't bother looking until she's towering over you. dark eyes and a small smile that would seem genuine coming from anyone else. a hand cups your cheek but no nails follow; it's gentle and slow as she runs her thumb over your skin. what was happening right now? "do you ever think about me?" you blink a few times trying to make sense of everything. why was she being so nice? why was she being so gentle? why did she ask that?

"what do you mean?"

a roll of her pretty eyes. "you know what I mean." you did but surely not.

"I... don't know what to say."

"Because I think about you," your breathing hitches as you sit up. looking at her properly. "those pretty eyes," she moves closer. "these lips," her thumb runs over your bottom lip. you swallow hard. "do you wanna kiss me?" you just stare back. a smirk as she ghosts your lips.

"say you wanna kiss me." this felt cruel. you lean in and she pulls back slightly. a finger pressed against your lips. her expression is colder now. sharp. "say it."

"I... wanna kiss you," you dare and that smirk quickly returns. removing her finger, Regina leans in and connects your lips. it's soft and slow. not at all like you imagined kissing Regina George would feel like... until the girl pushes into you and it's exactly like you imagined. fast. forceful. like she wanted to devour you. A hand pushes you back against her massive bed and she moves to straddle your hips. your heart is beating so loudly you wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it.

"still thinking about the new girl?"

"I never-" You feel her press a little harder against your chest so you change your answer. "no." Regina tosses her hair over one shoulder, and a finger under your chin pushes your head up.

"I don't think you should talk to her anymore," Regina states before leaning down to connect your lips once more. "understood?"

you're too caught up in the moment to really gauge how serious she was being so you nod. "good girl." whispered against your lips.

Regina George had always been a lot. She always demanded attention and you often gave her it. you weren't ashamed of that. She knew you'd do anything for her. As did most of the school.

"Hey," Cady suddenly appears beside you in the hallway. she seems a lot more relaxed around you which was nice to see. however, you have not spoken to them since that weird night with Regina. She wouldn't like it. plus Gretchen would probably snitch on you immediately. "so we should probably figure out a time to work on our project." you've been paired up for an assignment in American literature.

"We can do it today after school if you want?" she nods. "I'll meet you out front."

"hey Cady," Karen slides up beside you on the other side, instantly looping your arms. ever the pleasant company. you wonder if she just wanted to see you or get you away from Cady. probably the former.

"I'll see you later," you say to the new girl before turning to your friend. "what do you want?"

"you're coming to Connor's party Saturday?"

"Obviously,"

"I have the perfect-"

"no," you respond instantly. you loved Karen. she was genuinely the sweetest person you know. but at every party, she tries to give you a Karen Shetty special aka a makeover. and every single time you have to say no.

"but I have the perfect outfit for you."

"is it actually perfect for me or just slutty."

"Both," Karen states excitedly. "please," pleading eyes as she draws you closer, hugging your arm. "please please please."

a loud groan. "fine."

"Really?" her eyes light up and circulation quickly returns to your arm. you nod at her which leads to excited clapping. maybe it wouldn't be so bad. maybe it was the perfect outfit for you but also sexy enough to satisfy Karen.

"oh here," you reach into your bag and produce a homemade friendship bracelet. you'd been tutoring some younger students for extra credit but sometimes you just hung out with them. "made them with some of the kids so,"

"ah thank you," she takes it eagerly. you had one for Gretchen and Regina too. only one of them would appreciate it though.

"why were you chatting with Cady?" Karen asks, sliding on her bracelet as she takes your arm once more.

"we're doing a project together," you explain. "you were literally just in class with us Karen."

"oh yeah," she smiles brightly. "I'm starving." you chuckle a little and allow her to eagerly pull you towards the dining room.

you're sitting on the grass. Cady is talking in your ear as you stare into the distance. most students had gone home already. The rest were working on homework or projects or extracurricular activities. you arranged this meeting but god were you bored. no offence to Cady but you kinda wish you'd been paired with Karen so you could be fucking about right now and then rush the work the night before it's due.

"are you going to the party Saturday?" you ask idly.

"What party?"

"oh shit." you forgot she was hanging out with Janis and Damian who definitely wouldn't have been invited. "connor mckay is having a party. The dudes a mess, big house though. you should come,"

"don't think I was invited,"

"I'm inviting you."

"not sure that's how it works."

"Just come Cady," you insist. "you can bring Janis and Damian too if you want. everyone will be too fucked to notice."

"uh, thanks then" she smiles a little, glancing back at her textbook. "I'll think about it."

"you have to think about attending your first high school party?" you question. laying down on your back. "I'll be there," you turn your head to look at them. "it'll be fun." you watch her carefully and soon she smiles.

"Okay, yeah."

"well that was easy," should have just started by stating you'll be there. "Be careful, Cady." you tease, looking back to clouds passing by but you can't help but smirk a little. "I'll start thinking you like me."

sat in the back of Regina's jeep as she fixes her hair in the overhead mirror, Karen inspects your face while Gretchen is copying Regina by fixing her hair. "can we just go in," you insist, slapping Karen's hands away. "before I regret coming."

"Why would you regret coming?" Gretchen questions, looking around at you.

"I feel stupid,"

"you look amazing," Karen urges. "perfect."

"you would say that."

"stop whining," Regina insists. flipping up her mirror. "you look hot. now let's go."

finally. "I'm gonna get so fucked up," you state as you step out of the car. walking beside Regina with Gretchen and Karen a step behind. the party is already alive. started at six. It was eight.

you reach the point in every party where you just don't want to be there anymore pretty quickly tonight. you're suddenly so aware of how annoying everyone is. sat on the kitchen counter, you swing your legs back and forth as you sip whatever was in your cup. Gretchen gave it to you. the party passes around you like you're not even there until an all too familiar blonde appears. "you look sad," you'd mistake that for genuine concern if it wasn't Regina "Already at sad drunk, that's impressive."

"what do you want Regina?" she had basically ignored you since you arrived so why she suddenly thought you were worthy of her presence, you'll never know. Shane was the object of her disgustingly public displays of affection tonight. "thought you'd be too busy with Shane."

"god, you're so obsessed with Shane," a roll of her eyes as she takes the cup from your hand to help herself. you watch her as the red cup comes to painted lips. not a hair out of place. so perfect. Regina was perfect. it was annoying

"I invited Cady tonight," you state, snatching your cup back.

"ew. why? I thought we agreed you weren't going near Cady anymore," technically you did. practically it wasn't that deep. who cares.

"And Janis and Damian but mostly to get Cady here,"

"desperate to hang out with losers," Regina sighs. "is she here?"

you shrug. "too many people. too big a house. I haven't looked, to be honest."

"Well," a hand finds its way to your thigh, running up and then down softly. "if you're good tonight maybe I'll give you a little treat."

"don't," you push her hand away. "go back to your boyfriend."

"he's not my boyfriend,"

"well whatever he is," you jump down off the countertop. "you made it very clear that I'm not what you want."

"you're so dramatic," she pushes up too. "I hate when you get drunk."

"Whatever."

"fuck sake," Regina responds. "you act like I said we're together or something."

"you're such an asshole," you huff. "I'm gonna find Cady."

"good luck with that,"

there are so many people at this party. you're not sure who half of them even are but they all seem to know you as you stumble around after the new girl. a constant barrage of 'hellos' and 'you look hot' in various forms. it's tiring. annoying. and you're about to give up and go find Gretchen so she can rub your back to make you feel better when you spot her. She was looking as awkward as ever. "you came." shouted over the thump of the music

"yeah," her face lit up. "Damian too. Janis said she'd rather jump off a bridge than come so..."

"That sounds... exactly like her," you nod. "I like..." you glance at her outfit. Regina would hate it. you don't love it. "your outfit. very school teacher chic."

"Thanks," she replies. "I didn't have anything to wear so,"

"it's cool. I'm just happy someone here isn't gonna irritate me- do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she nods. "do they have juice?"

"uh... probably somewhere." who asks for juice at a party? "I'll check. stay here."

you wander off back to the kitchen in search of some juice. your first stop is the fridge which is very stocked. you briefly scan for anything open, sweet and edible before just grabbing a carton of fresh orange and deciding that will do. pouring her a glass before heading back. she's still in the same spot only a particular blonde in the tightest little black dress has decided to strike up a conversation. you immediately know something is wrong. Regina can't stand Cady. it's why you told her you admitted to inviting her so easily. You wanted to piss her off. you can't make out what is happening but as you make your approach the redhead leaves. Regina turns to you with a sugary sweet smile betrayed by her eyes. "hey baby girl, feeling any better?"

"What did you say to her?"

"why do you have a glass of" brow knitted as she tapped her nail against the glass. "orange juice?"

"What did you say to her?"

"who?" you let her have the glass and she takes a sip. a visible look of disgust. "is there anything in this?"

"It's just fresh orange,"

"what the fuck? are you trying to sober up or what?"

"it was for Cady," you explain. "what did you say?"

the blonde shrugs. "she just had to go. not my fault." you don't believe her. why would you? She has a track record of being a conniving person who'll make trouble just for the sake of it. it'd be naive to think she didn't do anything."

"Why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all of the time," you grumble loudly. a hand snaps around your wrist and suddenly you're yanked closer to her. hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

"I let you off before because you were all sad and tragic but don't think you can ever talk to me like that," growled in your ear before she abruptly shoved you away. "Cady left. get over it."

"she only left because you said something,"

"she left because she realised you don't like her," the blonde snapped. such a pretty poison came in the form of Regina George as she turned her gaze on you. She was pissed but kept it quietly contained to just beneath the music so nobody else had a clue. "that you've just been stringing her along. pretending to be her friend. all because I wasn't showing you enough attention," she's close again. too close. she wasn't physically that tall but right she seemed massive as she loomed over you. her eyes flicker to your lips and back up. did she wanna kiss you or kill you? neither seemed smart. "she realised that you belong to me."

"I'm not a dog Regina."

"you sure about that," a mean glint in those pretty eyes. "you wanted my attention. you got it." she shoves the orange juice back in your hand. it's contents splashing your hand. "don't cry about it now." and with that she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd

// NEXT

[redditreceipts]

Jinwar is a village for women and children in the Autonomous Administration of Nort and East Syria (also known as Rojava). It was built during the Syrian civil war, and is home to Kurdish, Arab and Yezidi women.

Some of the women have even been part of the YPJ, the Kurdish all-female fighting force within the Syrian Defense Forces.

Many of the women who have found refuge in Jinwar have been assaulted by soldiers or fled ISIS. In 2015, the UN concluded that about 40 percent of women and girls have experienced sexual violence while trying to access aid.

The village was inspired by the women's village in Umoja, Kenya, and the only men who are allowed inside the village are visitors who can come in by day. I think that this kinda shows how important it is for women all around the world to connect and to show to our sisters how stuff can be done.

I mean, building something like that in the face of ISIS???? In one of the most brutal warzones of the world, in Syria?? Building a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural and ecological village? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but I think that only women would be able to do something like this.

source, source, source, source

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Pieces of Her - Chapter One

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

(I know... I know, I should NOT be starting another story but, this idea just won't leave my mind)

“Fuck baby” Jon moaned out, as he gripped Kenya’s hips. Kenya threw her head back in pleasure and she started bouncing on his dick. “Shit” he dragged out.  “Just like that.” Jon's fingers dug into the curve of Kenya’s waist, pulling her closer to him with every bounce. She leaned forward, kissing him deeply, their tongues entwining in a heated exchange. 

“You boutta cum for me, Daddy?” Kenya whispered against his lips and Jon nodded, his hips bucking up to meet her every thrust. Kenya leaned down so that their chests were pressed against each other. The sound of her ass slapping against his thighs triggered his orgasm. 

“Shit! I’m boutta nut!” Hearing him say that made her start to bounce on his dick harder and faster. 

“Go ‘head Daddy, nut in your pussy.” 

“Fuck!” He moaned out, closing his eyes in ecstasy  as her walls tightened around him 

“Trin..” He moaned out and both he and Kenya froze. 

‘Bitch, did you just…” She trailed off, moving off of him and rushing into the bathroom to clean herself up. Jon winced when she slammed the bathroom door shut. 

“Baby! I’m sorry man, I-I” He stuttered trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he said his ex-girlfriend's name as he came inside of his current fiance. He groaned and got off the bed, pulling his briefs back on, and walked over to the bathroom door, frowning when he found it locked. 

“Kenya, I’m sorry. Open the door please.” He jumped as the bathroom door opened and Kenya walked out, now dressed in her pink Louis Vuitton robe. 

“Move out my way.” She said glaring at him. Jon watched with wide eyes as she walked into their closet and came back out with her duffel bag and dressed in a grey hoodie and black leggings. 

“No baby, wait lemme -“ Jon wrapped one of his hands around her forearm trying to stop her but Kenya snatched her arm out of his grasp. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She said, looking at him in disgust. “I knew something was up when y’all followed each other back on Instagram. You got me fucked up Fatu.” She said, throwing clothes and some essentials in her duffle bag. 

“No, just let me explain.” Jon tried to grab her arm again but the glare she sent his way stopped him. 

“ I knew this was too good to be true.” Kenya started, motioning her hand between the two of them. “I heard the way your mom and brothers talked about our relationship. How shocked they were when you told them you proposed. You’re mom couldn’t even pretend to be happy Jonathan.” 

Jon felt his heart sink as Kenya's words hit him. He knew she was right. His family had been skeptical of their relationship from the start, always comparing Kenya to Trinity.

Since his mom had met Kenya, she would always try to compare the two. And she would point out all of Kenya's flaws. 

 “Trinity always made sure his clothes were clean before he went on the road.” 

“Trinity always had a warm meal ready for Jon” 

“Trinity was used to life on the road… How are you going to cope with him being gone most of the time?” 

“I was never gonna be good enough, no matter how hard I tried. We we never going to last”  Jon watched helplessly as Kenya finished packing up what she could. She zipped the bag up and placed it on her shoulder. “I’ll try to come back for the rest of my stuff.” 

“Kenya.. Please.” He whispered, his voice cracking as he watched her with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go.”  

Kenya scoffed quietly as she made it to their his bedroom door. “Do you know what hurts the most? I always knew that you weren’t over her, like in the back of my mind I knew, but when she left the company I just… I dunno I was hoping you would get over her, but I guess that was silly of me to assume.” 

“Baby... I-I am over her.”

Kenya scoffed again as she noticed his slight hesitation. She let out a sad sigh as she looked around the room she had decorated for their anniversary. Kenya's eyes lingered on the photos she had taped to the strings, their smiling faces mocked her now, a painful reminder of what she thought they had. She blinked back tears and turned her gaze back to him. 

“You’re not and I can’t keep pretending that you are.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her tears now falling freely down her cheeks. “I deserve better than to be someone’s second choice.” 

She opened the door and walked out of the room, she heard Jon’s footsteps close behind her. “I love you!” He called out after her. “I don’t know why I said her name! I haven’t talked to her in months! I swear baby, It didn’t mean anything!” 

Kenya stopped walking and whirled around to face Jon. “How could you say that? What if I moaned out my ex’s name while you were inside me huh? Would you just be okay with it?” 

Jon fell silent, unable to answer. He knew he'd be devastated if the roles were reversed. Kenya shook her head, disappointed but not surprised by his lack of response.

“Exactly.” She said as she shook her head and opened the front door, walking out and towards her car. She unlocked the doors with the fob and threw her bag into the backseat. She hurriedly hopped into the driver's seat as she noticed Jon rushing towards her, still only dressed in his briefs. 

“Kenya, Please. I’m fucking begging. Just come back inside so we can talk.” Jon said, pulling on the door handle but she had locked it. Kenya stared straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as Jon pleaded outside her window. She couldn't bear to look at him, knowing if she did, her resolve might crumble. With a deep breath, she started the engine. “No! Kenya!” Jon called out hitting his hand against the window as she pulled off from in front of their home. 

Kenya had wound up driving to her studio and sleeping on the couch there. She woke up the next morning to about 50 missed phone calls from Jon and about 20 from his twin brother Josh. 

Josh Fatu: Sis, can u jus let me know you safe. Bro in here spazzing out cause u turned ur location off. 

To Josh Fatu: I’m okay 

Just as she sat up and stretched her phone started ringing. Kenya sighed as Jon’s contact stared back at her. She waited for it to stop ringing before unlocking her phone and blocking his number. She let out a deep sigh as she pushed herself off the couch, walked into the kitchen area and started a pot of coffee. 

She was in deep thought as she leaned against the counter, absentmindedly stroking the engagement ring she was still wearing. Kenya's fingers lingered on the diamond ring, memories flooding her mind. The day Jon proposed, the way his eyes lit up when she said yes, the plans they'd made for their future together. It all felt like a distant dream now. 

Its been about a month since she’s last talked to Jon. Even though he was blocked from her phone he had shown up to the studio multiple times to try to get her to talk to him, she just couldn’t she was embarrassed. She had bever had a guy moan out another girls name while she was with them. 

“Yo shawty, you good?” Kenya broke out of her daydream and look up from the soundboard. 

Brent well Christopher was staring back at her, holding the joint out to her to which she politely declined. 

“Yeah sorry, just thinking.” She said as she cleared her throat. “You ready.” 

He took anothe rhit of the joint before setting it aside. “Whenever you are.”  

Kenya took a deep breath and nodded before standing up and walking into the booth. She normally let other artist perform her lyrics but this one was personal.. She needed to be the one on the tract. 

Brent gave her a thumbs up and Kenya closed her eyes as the music begans to flow from the headphones, she took a deep breath before her voice filled the studio as she began to sing. 

🎶Go figure You were the trigger You brought me to an obstructed view When you knew the picture was bigger Who am I kiddin'? Knew from the beginnin' You'd ruin everything, you do it every time You are my enemy, you are no friend of mine, muhfucker, uh 🎵

BrentFaiyaz

liked by JustKenya, and 514,700 others

BrentFaiyaz: thank you @JustKenya for trusting me 🎼

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chrisbrownofficial: oh shit! we getting new music!

hermusicofficial: she's finally getting in the booth! Time to show the world your talent baby girl ❤️

JustKenya: ❤️❤️

Authors Note: WHY DO I WRITE JON AS THIS PIECE OF SHIT OMG!! but here's my new story! (well one of them.) Tell me what y'all think! 😬

(edit, sorry.. this is the song Kenya "wrote")

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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[theantho1ogy]

Streamer AU

Kenma x Fem!Reader

Kenma was busy talking to the chat as you sat still on his lap, looking pretty for the viewers. He was streaming some new game that came out, something you couldn't remember the name of.

You were staring at his monitor, spaced out as he rambled on. Kenya starts bouncing his leg, making you jolt as the vibrator inside you grazed a certain spot.

You gripped his desk, holding in your moan as he continued on like nothing happened. You could see him smirking from his face came, getting off to you, knowing you couldn't do anything without giving yourself away to chat.

"Someone in the chat says you should play while I read the comments." Your boyfriend suggests, his eyes focusing on you as you throb on top of him. You give him a pleading look, hoping he'd have mercy and let you off.

But you knew you boyfriend was a sadistic bastard who loved making you suffer.

With false enthusiasm you moved closer to his set up, ready to play for him. The phone that controlled the vibrator sat to the side, off camera but just in arms reach for Kenma.

He toned down the power for the beginning of stream, just a slight buzz inside you. Letting you and him get back to work playing as if it was a normal day.

But when you hit an especially hard boss fight, he grabbed the phone and made it reach it maximum vibration level. Causing you to moan out, not even giving you time to react. Your hands stuttered on the keyboard, missing the boss completely, making the chat go wild with groans and tips on how to win.

You could feel Kenma stifle a laugh behind you as he brought the energy back down. You gave it a few seconds, incase he did anything else. You apologized to chat, making excuses for the lose as you got back to playing.

Without missing a beat, Kenma reads out some comments as he slips his hand down your front. His long slender fingers flicking your clit, making you shudder. You tried scooting away from him but he just pressed down harder, making you bite your lip to stiffen your incoming squeal.

With the rising consistent vibrations inside you and his fingers playing with you, it was hard to concentrate on the game. While he was acting nonchalant as usual, not missing a beat as he read comment after comment.

Your slick was leaking onto Kenma's sweats, but he didnt mind. Scooping up a bit with his fingers he stuffed it back into you and went back to work, circling his fingers on you.

You wanted to cum badly, your small noises getting more consistent and he could tell you were getting needy. You unconsciously started grinding down on his thigh, trying to get more stimulation.

Kenma's voice getting slightly louder to drown out your moans and make his viewers focus on him. The game was already forgotten, swinging aimlessly and running directly into the boss. Your main focus was cumming.

Your boyfriend finally thought you've been through enough, and knew you were close to breaking.

He saved the game and focused on the camera, saying his outro and promising to speed run the game next stream. With a small smirk he stared at you, drowned out in pleasure as he told you to give your goodbye to the audience.

Trying to focus, you gave chat a big tired smile, your eyes blown out as you stared blankly into the screen. You barely got out a bye as Kenma bounced his leg directly under your pussy and put the vibrator on full speed.

Causing your eyes to roll back in pleasure as you moaned loudly, cum rolling down your thighs and soaking into your boyfriends.

Kenma cut the stream just before you orgasmed, letting you have that little bit of privacy. Not that you knew that.

[sgtgrunt0331-3]

On January 15, 2019, lone SAS operator Christian Craighead, enters the Dusit Hotel in Nairobi, Kenya, in respond to a terrorist attack. This famous photograph was seen on social media and major news outlets around the world.

Off-duty at the time, Craighead wore his combat gear over jeans and shirt when he entered the complex alone. He was able escort civilians to safety, then went back inside the hotel where he shot and killed two of the four al-Shabaab gunmen.

(Photo courtesy of AFP/Getty Images)

[queenshelby]

Daughter Dearest (Part Six)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

As the day progressed, some more wild weather had settled in, but that did not prevent Cillian from going out and picking up a delivery for you, namely some photographs you had developed externally from your recent travels.

Usually, you liked to do these things yourself, in a studio of your own, at least when utilising analog films, but this was not an option right now.  Cillian arrived home earlier than expected, his face still damp from the rain. The wind had picked up outside and the shutters beat against the brickwork of the house as he entered.

"Y/N," he called out, but you didn't answer. You had headphones on and was buried in one of your books.

He set the package down on the kitchen table and walked over to you, gently touching your shoulder. You looked up at him in surprise.

"I got your pictures," he said, pointing towards the table.

Your eyes lit up as you realized what he was referring to.

You pulled off your headphones and placed them next to you.

"Thank you so much for picking them up. You didn't have to," you exclaimed, beaming up at him, genuinely grateful.

"No problem," he replied with a soft smile. 

You jumped up from the couch, making your way over to the kitchen table. You noticed that the package was slightly damp from the rain.

Carefully, you unwrapped the package, revealing an envelope full of developed photographs while Cillian stood behind you expectadly.

"Would you like to see them?" you  asked, glancing back at him.

Cillian's gaze shifted between you and the envelope in your hands. He was curious, but he also didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

"Sure," he said finally, nodding his head. "I mean, unless they are too personal for you to share," he added quickly, remembering that you might not want him to see them.

You smiled at him, understanding what he meant. "I would love for you to see them," you told him, seeing how they weren't just random snaps. These photographs were part of your art and everything you photographed, especially during your last trip to Kenya, had a meaning.  They showed a snapshot of life there, its beauty, its harshness, and everything in between.

You opened the envelope, carefully taking out each photograph, placing them on the counter. The room was silent, the sound of the shutters beating against the brickwork still echoing. It made the whole scenario more magical, making you feel as if you were back in Africa, immersed in all its vastness and incredible beauty.

You picked up the first photograph, a black and white image of a woman carrying a baby on her back. Her face was etched with lines that showed the passing of time, but her eyes held a spark of life and strength.

Cillian leaned over your shoulder to get a better look.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, taking in the woman's stoic expression and the way she was cradling her child with such tenderness.

You smiled, glad that he could appreciate the photo's beauty.

"Yes, I took that picture when I visited a Maasai village," you said, feeling a sense of pride bubbling up inside you.

"Their way of life is so different from ours, but there's so much beauty in their simplicity."

Cillian nodded in agreement, completely captivated by the raw emotion conveyed in the photograph. He pointed to the next picture, which showed a group of children playing in a dirt field with a makeshift soccer ball. "These kids look so happy," he observed, admiration in his voice.

"They were! I spent an entire afternoon with them," you replied, feeling a fondness for those kids coming back.

"They don't have much, but they truly know how to enjoy the simple pleasures. It's quite inspiring."

Your voice trailed off as you went through more pictures, showing mostly people and their raw emotions. Each face told a story, and this was obvious to Cillian who watched you, mesmerized by your passion for photography. It was clear to him that this wasn't just a hobby for you, but a calling. He couldn't help but be impressed by your ability to capture moments, feelings, and the spirit of the places and people you've encountered.

You turned around to look at Cillian, noticing how he seemed lost in thought. " What's on your mind?" you asked him gently, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.

Cillian started and looked at you, his gaze softening as he saw the concern etched on your face. "Nothing, I am just...,"  he stammered, unable to put his feelings into words just yet.

"Just what?" you pressed, sensing that something was bothering him.

He licked his lips nervously, indecision etched on his face. "I think that you have a true gift Y/N. These photographs are  incredible," Cillian finally managed to say, his voice tinged with admiration.

You smiled, warmth spreading through you at the compliment, grateful for his acceptance and encouragement.

As the day went on, you, Cillian and you spent some more time together after, due to the bad weather, he had postponed his plan to catch up with his mate Dermont.  You noticed the easy way Cillian interacted with you and the way he listened intently as you spoke about your photography, understanding and appreciating the way it moved you. He even shared some of his stories from his early filming days, for a bit of nostalgia. 

Yet, despite this familiarity, there still lingered a sense of unspoken tension between the two of you. A pull that neither of you could explain or understand. It was an awkward dance of avoidance and stolen glances every so often.

The day after though, the weather cleared and Cillian went to see his best friend, meeting up with him for pint of Guiness downtown while you stayed at home.

You were still under house arrest and were only permitted to leave the property for an hour each day, during which you had to remain within a five-kilometer radius of where you lived. This was to permit you to exercise and attend to important matters, like shopping for essentials. 

These restrictions were frustrating, and the monitor had caused a rash to appear on your ankle, but you tried to stay positive. At least you weren't in jail.

While Cillian was out, you took the opportunity to call Nadine, asking her to come over but, unfortunately for you, she declined. She had an interview for a new job that day and really couldn't miss it.

As you spoke to Nadine, who appeared somewhat reserved over the phone and when you asked her about what was wrong, she revealed to you that she had heard rumors concerning your arrest. 

"I ran into Kevin at the hostel bar last night and I think it may have been Lucy who got the drugs into your bag,"  Nadine explained.

You frowned, feeling a surge of anger well up inside you. "But why would she do something like that?" you asked, incredulously.

Nadine sighed. "Well, apparently she was pretty pissed about you and Kevin having hooked up," Nadine explained, not condoning your mutual's friend's actions but clearly trying to explain the circumstances.

You scowled, frustration building up inside you at Lucy's pettiness. "But I haven't hooked up with Kevin at all," you hissed, your voice barely controlled. "In fact, most guys repulse me and that most certainly includes him,"  you added with a shiver of disgust.

Nadine remained silent for a minute, as if contemplating her next words carefully. "I know you didn't, but Lucy is pretty impulsive," she finally said, sympathetic. "Not that it makes it right though,"  she quickly added.

"But what am I supposed to do now?" you asked, frustrated. "I almost went to fucking jail because of her," you went on to say. 

Nadine sighed heavily. "Look, Y/N, I don't know, but I should really go now. I have that interview in half an hour,"  Nadine said, her voice gentle and concerned.

"I know, I am sorry," you said, feeling a pang of regret. "I shouldn't be ranting," you went on to say. 

"No, don't be silly. I'm always here for you, that's what friends are for," Nadine replied warmly. "But promise me that you won't do anything stupid," she added , feeling a sense of responsibility towards you.

You sighed heavily. "I won't," you answered, although this was far from the truth seeing how, as soon as Nadine hung up, you checked out Lucy's social media to see where she was at.

According to Instagram, she was still in town and you knew that you had to confront her. You wanted to get your name cleared and you wanted to tell her exactly what you thought of her. You were angry and you wanted her to know that you weren't someone to be messed with.

Thus, you quickly threw on a jacket, grabbed your sister's car keys, and headed out the door. The cold wind hit your face as you stepped outside, but you barely noticed. You were too focused on the task at hand.

As you drove towards the hostel, which was about nine kilometers away, your heart raced with anger. You couldn't believe that she had done something like this to you. You had never done anything to her, yet she had still decided to frame you.

The audacity of it all infuriated you, but you pushed past your rage and focused on the task at hand.

The hostel was crowded with young travelers, but you spotted her easily. She was sitting in the courtyard, sipping on an iced coffee and chatting with a tall blonde girl.

You approached her, feeling a surge of anger building up inside you. "Lucy," you said, your voice cool and controlled.

She looked at you, surprise flashing across her face. "Y/N?

What are you doing here?" she said, looking around nervously.

You ignored her question and cut to the chase. "Why did you plant drugs in my bag?" you demanded, anger tingeing your voice.

Lucy's eyes widened, and she looked at you in shock. "What? No, I didn't," she stammered, trying to deny it.

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on your face. "Don't lie to me, Lucy. I know it was you," you told her sternly , your voice firm and unyielding.

She fidgeted, looking guilty as charged. "Fine. I did it. But I didn't mean for it to go this far," she whispered, finally admitting her wrongdoing.

"What do you mean you didn't mean for it to go this far?" You asked incredulously, not understanding why she would do something like this in the first place.

"I was drunk, and I heard about you hooking up with Kevin earlier that night.  It made me jealous, and in the heat of the moment, wanted you to get in trouble," Lucy confessed, tears streaming down her face.

You stared at her, shocked and angry. "You must be joking! How could you do something so stupid? I could have ended up in jail just because of your drunken fit of jealousy!" you shouted, your voice incredulous.

"I am so sorry Y/N. I even went to see you the morning after, just before you left, but you had already gone. I wanted to warn you and make it all right. I promise," Lucy said, sniffling and rubbing her eyes just as, suddenly, you watched as a police car pulled up into the hostel parking lot, and it was then when you looked down at your ankle, seeing a red light flashing on it.

"Oh fuck," you hissed, realisation dawning on you and, before you had time to act, Lucy got up and ran off while the officers were approaching you.

You stood there, frozen on the spot, with your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe what was happening.

"Miss Y/N Y/LN?" one of the officers  called out, approaching you cautiously.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your shaking hands as the figure in uniform stepped closer.

"You are in breach of your  house arrest, Miss," the officer stated calmly, but with an underlying tone of authority.

You nodded dumbly, looking down at the monitor on your ankle. The red light blinked menacingly, betraying your location to the people who held your freedom in their hands.

"I'm sorry, I can explain," you stammered, attempting to reason with the officers in front of you. "I know who did what I got in trouble for and I came here to confront her," you said, quickly reaching for the device on your ankle, scratching your skin beneath.

"Well, ma'am, we will have to take you down to the station and you can call your next of kin and your solicitor when we get there,"  the second officer said, his tone stern but not unkind.

He and the first officer took hold of your arms, guiding you gently but firmly towards the patrol car parked outside the hostel.

As they led you away, you couldn't help but feel a wave of embarrassment sweep over you. What had you gotten yourself into? It was like a bad dream from which you couldn't wake up and, if they actually called your mother while she was on vacation, you knew you would never hear the end of it.

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[cleolinda]

Re: Couch fucking

Since people saw “JD Vance fucked a couch” mentioned in the “Tampon Tim: He’ll stop the red wave” post and went “What? JD Vance fucked a couch?,” no, he did not fuck a couch in his youth. The rumor was started by a random shitpost on the service I will continue to call Twitter until the heat death of the universe:

(Archived by Snopes, now view-limited by the author)

@rickrudescalves

can't say for sure but he might be the first vp pick to have admitted in a ny times bestseller to fucking an inside-out latex glove shoved between two couch cushions (vance, hillbilly elegy, pp. 179-181)

7:58 PM • Jul 15, 2024 • 1.8M Views

No draft or edition of Vance’s book Hillbilly Elegy ever said any such thing, but the inclusion of page numbers made “JD Vance fucked a couch” look very truthy (file this away as a tactic to look for in other propaganda you see). Neither Vance nor the Trump campaign can fully deny this because that would only draw more attention to the concept of “Vice presidential candidate JD Vance fucked a couch.” In great frustration, a campaign spokesman has finally said,

"We're not going to talk about couches or coconuts or whatever weird fetish KamalaHQ is into. When we have something to say, we'll say loud and clear. If Kamala is a coward, we'll call her a coward. If Tim Walz is a liar, we'll call him a liar.”

JD Vance then proceeded to lie about Tim Walz’s 24-year military record, calling it “stolen valor.”

As much as people enjoyed Walz’s quip that he would love to debate Vance if Vance would be “willing to get off the couch,” I do agree that Democrats should not stoop to such Republican tactics as (off the top of my head)

Telling lies about presidential candidate John Kerry’s military service (which inspired the general term “swiftboating” “to describe an unfair or untrue political attack”)

Claiming that then-presidential candidate Barack Obama was born in Kenya and not an American citizen, which would disqualify him, leading to an entire “birther” movement headed by Donald Trump

Accusing Democrats of trafficking children in the basement of a pizza parlor that had no basement, leading one man who sincerely believed this to “[travel] to Comet Ping Pong to investigate the conspiracy and [fire] a rifle inside the restaurant to break the lock on a door to a storage room during his search”

Claiming that North American schools keep kitty litter on hand for students who “identify as cats,” a “joke” meant to target protections for transgender students

And, as mentioned, splitting hairs over exactly what rank Tim Walz had vs what he retired at, elevating this to a far more serious accusation of stolen valor. In fairness, this is probably revenge for the couch thing.

So yes, I agree, we shouldn’t use the same tactics that the Republicans have been using for decades. It’s tasteless and it does not make us look better. I would perhaps remind you of the saying “Live by the sword, die by the sword,” but yes, we should stop confusing people into thinking that JD Vance fucked a couch. No couch was ever fucked by JD Vance. I endorse this message.

[ssrleona]

homecoming (I)

pairing: leona kingscholar x fem!reader

warnings: slight angst, allusions to childhood mistreatment

word count: 1.5k

s: at your insistence, you finally visit the afterglow savannah and meet Leona's family

a/n: this was written before the tamashna muina event released. and since I haven't read the trans yet, how I describe the savannah and its culture may not be the same as it was described in game. I'm East African, and since the lion king was essentially a mishmash of East African culture (mostly Kenya, Ethiopia, and for some reason some stuff from W. Africa), most of what I describe comes from my own cultural background + light research. enjoy!

It starts with a letter.

It’s not unusual for Night Raven College to be overrun by its unruly student body, but the coming summer holiday brings a new level of restlessness that hums through the walls. Hasty stops at the school store, last minute assignments, bittersweet goodbyes. Even the faculty seem on edge and ready to end the semester.

Ruggie all but collapses at your feet when he spots you in the hall of mirrors, heaving a woven basket twice his size. It’s filled to the brim with an assortment of different packages; mailers, bags, miniature boxes wrapped in newspaper clippings and assorted wrapping paper. A neat ivory envelope tied with a golden ribbon at the very top.

He gives it to you. “Could you hand this off to Leona? I have enough on my plate as it is.”

“Is it usually this bad?” You ask, eyeing the precarious stack that’s leaning just a little too close to the floor. You turn the envelope in your hands. The words on the front are written in a script you can’t make out, only recognizing ‘Leona Kingscholar’ in the far left corner. It’s bulky, like someone crammed multiple letters inside, but doesn’t take away the luxurious quality of the paper. It’s silk between your fingertips.

“It’s from his family, so I doubt he’d read it anyways,” Ruggie comments. He hefts the basket from the floor, “Throw it out if you want.”

His family.

Besides bitter remarks thrown in passing, Leona never speaks of them. Or his home. What you’re holding in your hands is the only piece of the other Kingscholar’s you’ve ever gotten so close to. The letter is tucked away before you give the suggestion a second thought. 

“You came all this way, I might as well.” 

“You just wanna read it, huh?” 

“And you wouldn’t?”

Ruggie laughs at that, turning to the door with a shake of his head. “There’s a reason curiosity killed the cat. Something’s I’d rather not know.”

______________________________________________________________________________

“Took you long enough.”

Warm arms circle your waist as you enter the room, dragging you backwards until you hit the plushness of his sheets. He’s practically on top of you. Flush against him, back to chest. His head finds its way to the crook of your neck and you can feel the sigh he releases on the wisps of your hair. The softness of his tail curling around your ankle.

Leona’s tone is scalding, but the delicate possessiveness of his actions tell you otherwise.

You turn your head. Heavy olive irises sharpen as you place the letter between the both of you. “I got caught up.”

Groaning, he’s quick to toss it on the nightstand before burrowing himself further into your neck. With you two so close, sheets ballooned around you, a drowsy warmth fills you. It’s hard not to fall into it.

“That’s the last thing I need right now.” He huffs.

You raise a brow. “You haven’t even read it.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s the same old shtick. Naggin’ me to come for break.” 

He sighs. “If it was up to me I’d just stay here.”

“Aw, you’d miss me that much?” You tease, yelping as he pinches your side. The laugh pulled from his lips ease into a yawn.

“In your dreams.” Leona exhales. His breath evens out, warm against the shell of your ear as he’s lulled into sleep. 

And that was that.

In your position on the bed, you have a perfect view of the nightstand, eyes catching the glimmer of gold ribbon in the dim light.

Coming to Twisted Wonderland, you’ve constantly been thrusted into the most asinine of situations all while being told to keep your head down and leave things where they lie.

But you're a curious sort by nature. It’s a hunger, insatiable in its pursuit to pick everything apart, examine every crack and rough edge, feel the grain against the pad of your fingers, piece by piece. You’ve disrupted the debased philosophies of Night Raven College’s elite because you’re always pushing for more, not settling for less.

This is not something you are ashamed of.

Yet, as you stare at the envelope in front of you, you can’t help but feel hesitant.

Leona is an enigma, an ever changing labyrinth. The moment you think you have him figured out, the layout changes and you’re back at square one. And it leaves you starved.

You want to know him, yearn to trace his patterns like the dips in the back of your hand; know where each curve started, why it ends, and swallow it whole to keep wherever you go.

 You also know this: if you push too far Leona will close himself away and never let you see these parts of him ever again. And you’ve grown greedy.

(Something’s I’d rather not know)

You grab the envelope.

The ribbon gives easily enough, and you’re met with letter after letter, all scrawled in messy print. You realize these were written by Cheka– asking his uncle how he’s doing, when he’s coming to visit, and what he’s been up to at the palace since the last time Leona saw him. On the bottom of some of the pages were crayon drawings: portraits of his parents and scenes of Leona and him together, exploring the palace or traveling through the city. 

As you sift through, a paper falls into your lap. 

It’s a photograph of Cheka and who you’d assume to be his parents. The man in the photo is laughing, light smile lines gracing his face. Cheka’s in his arms, and the woman beside them looks at the sight with fondness. The background is flooded with the country’s namesake- an assortment of orange, yellow, and pinks kaleidoscopes together in a painting of the setting sun. It looks homey, tender and inviting, and you can’t help the smile that curls around your lips.

You’d love to be there, surrounded in that warmth.

 Leona’s scoff makes you jump, looking over at him, and his bleary eyes meet your stare. His expression was mostly hidden in the depth of your shoulder but he didn’t look pleased. You didn’t realize you said the words aloud, or that your movements woke him.

“Go be a comedian if you wanna start telling jokes.” He grunts. You turn yourself in his grasp to face him fully and his arms tighten their hold. His hair is mused with sleep, blanketing the pillows beneath. Your hands itch to touch it.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea,” You insisted. He scowls at this, tail shifting back and forth beneath the sheets. “ I want to see the Afterglow Savannah, the palace, your family. It'd be nice to know where you grew up.”

The message is quiet. You do not tell me enough.

Leona grows silent. Contemplative. He knows when you get like this, stuck on an idea that overrules your every action, close to nothing can convince you otherwise. 

He told you once that’s a trait he liked about you in the best of times. 

( ‘But half the time it just makes you hard headed’ he said, and snickered at your glare.)

Leona knows you well, too well. Usually this would bring a coy flush to your face, but you couldn’t help but grimace at the thought.

“I just want to know more about you.” You admit. 

“You could just ask.”

“Like you’d tell me.”

He says nothing, looking through you, deep in thought. Leona doesn’t seem annoyed by your probing, but something about the furrow in his brows looks resigned. Bitter.

“There’s nothing worth seeing.” He bites out. “It’s a bunch of royals too stuck up to see past their ivory towers.”

The photo; the honest smiles and laughter.

“I’m sure there’s more than that.” You contend.

Something bubbles forth in him. A dark quality you haven't seen before. He growls deep in his throat. It’s too low for your ears to catch, but you feel it reverberate through the bed and into your chest. 

“ Yeah, the stupid age old rules they hide behind–and they're sure to ostracize anyone who steps outside it.”  He meets your gaze.“Birth order is the only thing that matters. If you’re not first then you’re nothing.”

 The vitriol in his tone catches you off guard, and the words fall away from your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Do you hate the Afterglow Savannah?” 

Instead of the eruption of anger you expected, the brewing storm leaves him sullen.

You regret it as soon as it passed through your lips

“You really don’t let up do you?” He sighs. Leona’s voice is oddly gentle. You wait for the other shoe to drop; anger, arrogance–anything. But it never comes. His arms move you so you’re in your original position, back to chest, as if the conversation never happened. Except this time, he curls himself into you– his body hiding you away, swallowing you whole.

“Stop worrying about it.” He mumbles. “Hurry up and sleep.”

You don’t. You spend that afternoon staring at the photo, tracing over their juvenile smiles.

Leona’s was not one of them.

TBC

[rei-ismyname]

Storm used to get naked a lot

Magneto definitely has the longevity (pun intended) when it comes to on-panel nudity or semi-nudity, but Storm had many moments early in her publication history. They're pretty racist, tbh, the implication being that an African person wouldn't have the same understanding of the social contract dictating 'don't be naked in public.'

This one isn't public but it's got a similar vibe of otherness. 'Imagine myself back in Kenya.' As an aside, my disability makes showering a lengthy trial. I'd love to be able to do this.

Jean is Living with Misty Knight and keeping her Marvel Girl identity secret, so she asks Ororo to change out of her X-Men uniform. There's a flash of lightning? Cool trick, but yeah she's butt nekkid and Jean is aghast/horny/who knows? Ororo is like 'We all good?' and Jean nearly chokes on her drink (sure ;) It's not really explained, but I feel like it's meant to be read as 'African woman doesn't understand nudity taboo.' An excellent what if? would be 'What if Storm's nudist/body positivity became an X-Men thing?' I think it'd be good for everyone who consents, though it'd make it a lot harder to run a school.

This one is forced as hell. Nightcrawler realises Storm is swimming naked in the pool, and tries to hurry everyone inside so nobody sees her. If I'm being generous he means well, but it's still a little uncomfortable. Not pictured - Kurt talking to Storm; Storm giving a fuck. Because he loudly told everyone to get inside, Storm does too (why wouldn't she?)

Nightcrawler - 'Too late.'

Colossus - 'By The White Wolf?!?'

Banshee - 'Oh dear.'

Wolverine - 'Nice tits, darlin.' (paraphrased, lol. The look on his face tho )

She doesn't understand what the hell these weirdos are on about, and complies with Piotr's suggestion that she wear his shirt 'if you insist.' (Boo, double standard. Free the nipple!)

Ororo still doesn't understand, so Xavier (who's been listening? Watching? telepathically takes what's barely subtext and makes it text.

'What may be customary in your land is not in this one.' Yikes. Ororo spent a lot of her youth in various parts of Africa, but her childhood proper was spent in New York AFAIK. She's a US citizen This is her land. I consulted a bunch of African friends who've been to Africa and have family there - Nudity is not common in their experience. Same rules as most places. It's a very stereotypical portrayal of backwards Africa - as if it's a homogenous country and not a massive continent.

He continues 'For the sake of group harmony, I suggest in future you use more... discretion.' I wonder what word he was going to use instead of discretion. Professor X is the undisputed patriarch here, so naturally the most patriarchal stuff comes from him (especially in the 60s/70s.) I'd actually love this to be revisited and have it be revealed that she just likes being naked and it has nothing to do with her being from Africa. Maybe with a lightning bolt upside his bald head. Aside from the scene where Xavier recruits her, I don't think there's any Ororo naked in Africa scenes - she understands the concept of clothes. Ugh.

She was just trying to swim, it was these bozos making a big deal of it. It's also just plain weird that this came up multiple times with multiple writers. Same editor, though I think. Expecting progressiveness from Liberal Marvel is folly, but this just feels like policing women's bodies, and a black woman repeatedly in the same way. 'Stop ogling and objectifying the poor woman,' would be much more appropriate.

[starlightshadowsworld]

So in Season 5 episode 2 when Fukuchi is at the UN there’s a dude fanboying over his adventures.

He lists several of them off and one of them is “the elimination of hundreds of thousands of subjects of the werecreature experiments in the republic of Kenia.”

Werecreature experiments

We know of one werecreature and we also know he was experimented on as a child. Granted Shibusawa seemed like he was doing his own thing for Fyodor.

So this could’ve been a separated thing or related but either way it has to have involved Atsushi, right?

You don’t just throw out the phrase ‘werecreature experiments’ and not have it be related to the only werecreature in the show.

Especially not the main character.

And while it was the orphanage, we know Atsushi has survived multiple attempts on his life as a child.

As for Fukuchi he was planning to kill him on that boat prior to Akutagawa showing up. And then tried to convince Akutagawa to kill Atsushi.

Perhaps to finish the job he started all those years ago.

If Atsushi was involved in these experiments his parents could’ve also been test subjects as other weretigers. But they could’ve also been scientists.

And that’s what the headmaster was referring to when he said by the ‘this doesn’t even count as abuse when compared to your parents.’

Like yeah im making you nail your own foot to the floor but at least I didn’t make you a monster. Because yeah these these experiments could’ve been what gave him his ability in the first place.

Maybe Atsushi was one of if not the only successful experiment. Fyodor wants him alive after all and him being the guide is because of his ability.

Atsushi was abandoned inside a rubbish bag in a bin by his parents. Perhaps the place was attacked by Fukuchi and they were trying to hide Atsushi.

Even if Atsushi wasn’t apart of these experiments, if there were any other weretigers it seems like Fukuchi killed them.

He’s the only werecreature and that’s why the police and the Agency (up until they met Atsushi) thought Atsushi was a normal tiger during his rampage. No one immediately considered he was a werecreature, an ability user because their aren’t any.

As for the location, they may have meant Kenya but it’s possible this place is made up for bsd. It wouldn’t be the first time so there’s also that.

Also that conversation said that many of Fyodor’s exploits were made into movies so just imagine Atsushi having movie night with the Agency and finding this all out.

If his parents were scientists and involved with this then it’s fair to assume Atsushi remembers what they did to him. Given his reaction to Fitzgerald talking about them.

But given his initial trust of Fukuchi i don’t think he knows about his involvement.

Fuck this man really decided he was going to take everyone away from Atsushi, didn’t he?

Shoutout to the wonderful @crowscadence for letting me know about this because I had no idea this was said.

This is now going to rot in my brain for the foreseeable future because what the fuck?! Not to mention the casualness of which this information was delivered.

[glendasguidance]

❄️ pick an emoji, mini reading ❄️

Nature Messages for You

What can you do to feel like you belong again, and reconnect with the world?

deck: Nature Meditations by Kenya Jackson-Saulters // passages are directly copied from the cards, I did not write these messages

₊˚ʚᗢ₊˚✧ﾟhow to pick // disclaimers ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

🌸 🦨 🦓🦈 🐅🐛 🦋🦇🪺 🦢

inhale & exhale 3x, now pick

★ personal readings ★ support me ★ other readings ★

★ check out this reading! → USA Post-Election (2024): How can you support yourself, your community, and Earth in the present moment and in the years to come? (for US citizens and non-US citizens - for every Earthling <3) ★

Pile 1 🌸

embrace the life cycle: Death is an inevitable part of the cycle of life, a natural shift from one state to another. It's a process that every living being must go through. But death does not mean the absolute end of something. As living beings, we all carry on in different ways, even when we're no longer alive. Our ideas, our love, our shared memories, and our work here on Earth live on through future generations. As you grieve for those you've lost, repeat the phrase I will look for new meaning in the cycle of life. Hold space for the beautiful life that was, and open your heart to how that life lives on in new ways.

Pile 2 🦨

embracing imperfection: Natures provides us with such beautiful examples of the brilliance inherent in imperfection. There are albino animals, flowers that grow from concrete, and an entire crooked forest in Poland. Each of these occurrences reminds us that things do not need to be perfect in order to be beautiful, valuable, or appreciated. Today, as you walk, examine how you may have judged yourself as imperfect, flawed. Take stock of the toll that negative self-talk may have had on your self-esteem and self-image. How can you reframe your relationship with yourself and embrace your imperfections?

Pile 3 🦓

mind and body: We often move through the world without giving much thought to the connection between our brain and body -- the amazing network that allows us to make complex movement without a perceived thought. Today, plan a short stroll around your backyard, through the neighborhood, or in a nearby park. As you walk, bring your attention to the weight of each step and the feeling of each toe making a connection with the ground, the stretch of the muscles in your legs, the way your arms move at your side. Be present with your physical self, uniting your mind and body.

Pile 4 🦈

trust yourself to soar: When baby birds take their first flight, they are following their natural instincts. With wobbly legs and freshly formed wings, they leap from trees, cliffs, and ledges to experience their first taste of aerial freedom -- not because they are fearless, but because their instincts tell them that they can, that it's time. When your gut tells you you're ready, don't hold back from taking a leap in your life. Let your intuition guide you and trust yourself to soar.

Pile 5 🐅

wide open spaces: Find a quiet place to sit with your eyes closed for several minutes. Visualize yourself walking through rolling green hills, stretching as far as the eye can see. See the grass and wildflowers underfoot, and feel the clean fresh breeze on your face. You are the only person as far as the eye can see. Notice what it feels like to move through the wide open landscape, with no limits, no boundaries, and no restrictions. take 5 deep breaths and then open your eyes. Return to this meditation when you feel stressed or constrained.

Pile 6 🐛

find sweet release: The natural world is constant releasing pressure. When our oceans swell, waves lap onto your shores. When clouds get full, they burst into rain and sprinkle our shoulders. When geysers overheat, they erupt into hot steam, radiating warmth. Today, as you walk, contemplate pressure and release in your own life. Is there anything building up inside of you on the verge of exploding? What conversations, activities, or decisions will help you ease the pressure in your life? How can you find moments of release?

Pile 7 🦋

wisdom in the soil: There is wisdom in the soil. Having held humanity for the entirety of our existence on Earth, the ground beneath our feet has been present for every major human victory and failure throughout history. Today, find a spot to stand outside. Imagine the soil beneath your feet as a wise elder, eager to disclose all its secrets to you. Imagine all that's transpired in this spot over thousands of years. What wisdom is the soil sharing with you?

Pile 8 🦇

support diversity: Nature is a lesson in the importance of diversity. The natural world is full of diverse ecosystems, plants, and animals -- including us humans. Every living thing has a unique and special purpose in contributing to life on Earth, and when the health and viability of an ecosystem or species is in danger, it can have a ripple effect. When one being suffers, we all suffer. Today, pause to consider your own community's diversity. What can you do to foster, protect, and support diversity in your ecosystem?

Pile 9 🪺

thriving, not surviving: A cactus can thrive in the desert. The hot, dry climate is exactly what it needs to grow and flourish. A redwood tree, however, would perish in that ecosystem. Like plants, individuals need specific things to make them comfortable and happy. Today, identify 3 things you need to prosper in your environment, and commit to putting those things in place so that you can thrive.

Pile 10 🦢

cleansing rain: Find a place to sit quietly for a few minutes. Close your eyes and imagine a rainstorm rolling in. Feel the experience of the storm surrounding you. Hear the loud claps of thunder. See the bright flashes of lightning. Listen for the pitter-patter of raindrops on the trees, the ground, the rocks. Now imagine that this rain has come to cleanse you. Think of something that's causing you stress, and allow the raindrops to wash over you, taking your troubles along with them as they run into the ground.

🦢 ♥︎ much love - Glenda ♥︎ 🦢 ★☮︎★ support people affected by Jan 2025 LA wildfires ★☮︎★ support wildlife affected by the Jan 2025 LA wildfires ★☮︎★

pngs: click here // dividers: click here // I do not consent to my writing, blog's likeness, or anything associated with my work, to be used to teach any machine learning software and artificial intelligence for any purpose.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Strangers

Accidentally posted this one first. Oh Well. I'm working on Notice Me.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve from school is completely different than Steve in the back of his car at 12 in the morning. Why is it that he only talks to you when he wants something from you?

Warnings: asshole!steve, cursing, idk if there's anything else.

I tried to make this as non-specific as possible. If I happened to specify anything, please let me know and I'll fix it.

*Not Proof Read*

Based on Strangers by Kenya Grace.

♤♤♤♤♤♤

" I like being here with you. " Steve's voice is soft. He gently brushes a strand of my hair out of my face, his eyes staring into mine.

I smile at him. " I like being here with you too. "

His eyes shimmer in the glimmering moonlight. His lips curl into a smile, his teeth barely peeking through.

We don't say anything else. Instead we both stare up at the sky, enjoying each other's presence.

The air is cold but I don't mind. Steve's close body helps to keep me warm. It's moments like these I love. The world feels so safe and peaceful. No stress. No anxiety. Just us and the stars.

Steve gently draws circles onto the back of my hand. His touch is faint and tender but it leaves a patch of heat behind its path. He has that effect.

I wonder what he's thinking. When he looks at me, what does he see?

" I should get you home. Don't want you to break curfew. " Steve breaks the silence. He gently pulls my hand up to his lips before leaving a soft brief kiss on my knuckles. It's so light I can hardly tell he touched me.

Steve stands up but doesn't let go of my hand. Immediately, I miss his warmth and the smell of wood mixed with aftershave that always follows him.

Steve helps me stand up before finally letting go of my hand to pick up the blanket we were on. We make our way back to Steve's car, listening to the faint cricket noises as we step off of the field we're on.

When we get into his car Steve asks me about my day. He always checks in about my day on our way back to my house. It's sweet.

The night is over before I'd like it to be. Soon Steve is pulling onto my street and eventually stopping at the curb by my house.

It's about right now when I begin to wish the trip to my house was longer.

" Here we are. " Steve says while looking over at me. " I'll see you tomorrow? " His eyes are hopeful.

I smile. " Of course. Bye Stevie. " I open my door.

" Wait. " Steve calls, gently grabbing my arm. His other hand gently cups my cheek and brings me towards him. His eyes flicker down to my lips before making their way back up to my eyes. His breath is warm on my skin, the faint smell of peppermint lingering on his breath. He slowly leans down and his warm, soft lips meet mine.

His kiss sends shivers down my spine. Warm butterflies erupt in my stomach. I gently run my hand through Steve's already slightly messed up hair.

His lips feel desperate and hungry. His hand slides around to the back of my neck as he gently cups my head.

I want to stay like this forever.

Unfortunately, we can't. We both break away, breathless and flushed.

The cold air from my open door floods my heated skin.

A small smile breaks onto Steve's face. " Goodnight, baby. "

" Goodnight. "

Steve watches as I make my way into my house, ensuring I get inside safely. I lean against the closed front door with my ear against it. The sound of Steve's car fades away, muffled by the wood.

Until tomorrow.

♤♤♤♤♤

" Eddie stop scaring children. " I roll my eyes at the older boy who's mid lunge at a group of freshman.

His hands are up high, fingers spread out to look like claws. His lips are twisted into an exaggerated grin.

One of the underclassmen let's out a started yelp before dodging behind their friends. The group of freshmen moves away from us, curses and middle fingers flying towards Eddie who returns the gesture.

Eddie let's out a loud laugh as he rushes to catch up with me. " Somebody's gotta humble those fuckers. "

We stop at my locker. " What'd they even do? " I ask while spinning my combo into the lock.

Eddie leans against one of the lockers near mine. " They made fun of the club's shirt design. " He gestures to his chest where the design is currently located. " Dustin spent hours making this. That little shrimp put his heart and soul into this thing. How dare they shit on it. " Eddie's words are frustrated.

" I'm sorry, Ed. " I sigh sympathetically while setting my stuff inside my locker.

" I'm just hoping Dustin doesn't catch wind of what they're saying. " Eddie replies honestly. He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes wandering to the boy who's chatting with his friends at the end of the hall. " Little dude's already having a tough enough time dealing with the outrageous amounts of homework they're piling on him, he doesn't need to be worrying about making a new design too. "

I've always admired how protective Eddie is over his friends, especially Dustin who he treats like a brother. He will always stand up for them, no matter how stupid it makes him look.

" There's Tweedledee and Tweedledumbass. " Eddie nods to someone behind me.

I look over to see Steve walking down the hall with his group of friends surrounding him. His laugh sends butterflies soaring around my stomach.

Tommy sticks his leg out partially, causing a passing boy to trip and nearly drop his books. This sends Tommy and Carol into a bout of laughter.

" What an ass. " Eddie mutters. " Carol and Steve are no better. "

" Eddie. " I sigh, a frown forming on my lips.

" What? They just stand there and let him do shit like that. They're bullies, just like him. They're shallow jerks who don't have enough brain cells to realize that other people in the world exist and not everything revolves around them. I mean, have you ever seen either of them stop Tommy or help someone he's fucked with? "

He has a point. While Steve might not be engaging in the bullying, he definitely doesn't do anything to stop it.

But he's not a horrible person. The Steve I know, the Steve who's with me almost every night, is kind and gentle. He's caring and smart. He's different.

" He's just complicated. " I defend the boy.

" Why are you defending him so much? " Eddie asks, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Steve and his friends pass by and I manage to catch his eye. I send him a small smile.

Steve sends me a small nod, quickly returning to his conversation with Tommy.

I've given up on saying hello to him in the halls. The last time I tried he gave me a forced awkward smile and Tommy wouldn't stop questioning him on why he was talking to me.

It's just easier to not say anything and smile. He knows I'm saying hi.

" Fuck no. " Eddie blurts. " You're with him again. "

I turn my attention back to Eddie. " Ed-"

" What the fuck? He treats you like shit! Why the fuck would you get back together with Steve Harrington? " Eddie hisses. He's never been the biggest fan of Steve. Actually, he's one of his biggest haters. When he accidentally found out Steve and I were hanging out, he lectured me for an hour on why I shouldn't date someone like Steve.

Like I said, he's protective over his friends.

I slap a hand over Eddie's mouth, looking around the make sure no one's paying attention. " Shut the fuck up, Eddie! Someone could hear you! " I let go of his face and drag him towards one of the empty classrooms. I close the door behind us.

" What the fuck are you thinking? Steve of all people? "

Anger bubbles in my chest. He thinks he knows Steve. He doesn't. Steve isn't as bad as he thinks. " You don't know him like I do, Eddie! Stop pretending you to! He's sweet and kind and he gives a shit about me. "

Eddie scoffs. " He's trying to get in your pants. Why else would he be forcing you to keep your shit a secret? Really, think about it. Have you two ever actually gone out together? Have you been seen together? " Eddie's eyes are narrow with anger. " He is using you and you refuse to see it. He barely even acknowledges you in the halls. "

" I'm a big girl, Eddie. Look, I appreciate your concern but I am going to do what I want to do. This is my life and I know what I'm doing. I don't need you to protect me from this. "

Hurt flashes across Eddie's features. " You know what, fine. " He walks towards the door and grabs the handle. " I know deep down you know he's using you and you're just too afraid to admit it. Do what you want but don't say I didn't warn you when he breaks your heart. " With that Eddie leaves, not bothering to shut the door behind him. I watch as he disappears in the crowd of students.

A sinking feeling fills my stomach. Deep down I know he's right.

But if I admit that, then I have to end things with Steve and I don't know if I'm ready to do that.

♤♤♤♤♤♤

Steve has never taken me on a date in public. It's always a late night picnic in the park or a pool date at his house.

It didn't use go bug me. I was just happy to be with him. Happy to get to know the real Steve.

But ever since my conversation with Eddie a few days ago I've started to notice the things he pointed out.

Eddie's still mad at me. He's back to talking to me but it's superficial and short. Not like how it used to be.

The ride back to my house is quiet and honestly I'm thankful for that. I need to think.

Why does Steve only want to hang out after dark. Is he embarrassed of me? Why is he so open when we're alone but so distant when we're at school?

Steve pulls to a stop. " I'll see you tomorrow? " He asks like usual.

The moon lights up his face, casting a beautiful glow over his features. A loose strand of his now messy hair lays gently against his forehead. His eyes are big and bright.

He looks so good.

" Steve, " Am I really doing this? " I actually need to talk to you. "

Confusion flashes over his face. His smile fades slightly. He picks up my hand and gently begins to draw invisible shapes on my palm. " Sure. Is everything alright? "

Here we go.

" Actually no. "

Steve tenses.

" This has been bugging me for a little bit so I'd figure I'd ask. " I take a small deep breath. " Why are we doing this? "

Relief floods Steve's face and he let's out a small nervous chuckle. " What do you mean. I like you and you like me so naturally we hang out. "

I shake my head and pull my hand away from the boy. " That's not what I mean. Why are we doing this in secret? Why won't you say hi to me in the halls? "

Steve's smile fades. " What? " He obviously wasn't expecting this.

" Why do you treat me so differently at night than you do during the day? "

My heart is pounding. I'm afraid to hear his answer.

Steve sighs. " Because...Because I thought you liked hanging out at night. "

" I do, Steve. I really do. But the problem is you don't even acknowledge me at school? I'm confused what the fuck is going on between us. " Anger bubbles in my chest.

" It's just what we've always done. " I can tell Steve's beginning to get a frustrated.

" That's not good enough. "

" I don't know what the fuck you want me to say! "

" I want the truth, Steve! I just want the truth. " I answer honestly. " I'm confused about us and- "

" I'm embarrassed of you! " Steve blurts.

My heart drops. " What? "

Steve's eyes widen. " Fuck! I didn't mean to say it like that. "

" Then how did you mean to say it, Steve? "

" I-Look, I really like you, Y/N, but we don't...run in the same circles. " Steve states slowly.

" So? "

Steve lets out a sigh. " You...I hang out with people like Tommy and Carol. You don't. It just...if we went public it would...complicate things. "

I'm not good enough for him. He's basically saying I'm not popular enough for him. What the fuck.

" Because I'm not popular and you are. " I scoff, shaking my head. " You know, you act like a dick at school and some part of me thought that deep down there was no way you were actually like that. I was wrong. You're an asshole, you know that? I never realized you were so shallow. You are just like Tommy and Carol. "

Steve's eyes turn dark. " I am not like like Tommy. "

" You're right. You're not. You're worse. At least Tommy's upfront about being an asshole and isn't tricking people into thinking he actually gives a shit about them. "

I feel like crying. I'm so angry right now.

" What the fuck do you expect? You hang out with people like Eddie Munson and his little band of rejects! " I've never seen Steve this angry before. " This was a fucking mistake. We never should've started doing this. "

That hurt. His last sentence sends a blow to my heart, officially shattering it into pieces.

For a moment I'm silent, trying not to cry. Suddenly this car I've grown to love feels suffocating. Memories of our times in the back seat or on the hood watching the stars fill my mind. What was the fucking point of all of this for him?

" You know, Eddie may be a 'freak', but at least he doesn't give a fuck what other people think. He doesn't care if others see us together. His whole life isn't a popularity contest. " I whisper. " You're right Steve, this was a mistake. Don't talk to me again. Whatever the fuck this is ends now. " With that, get out of his car, not bothering to look back when I make it inside.

Unlike every other night, Steve's dropped me off, I don't wait by the door to listen to him drive away. Instead, I head upstairs debating whether to call the guy I know I can rely on.

He's mad at me though.

But he still cares.

" Hello? " Eddie's groggy voice mumbles through my telephone.

" Eddie. " I swallow harshly. " I'm sorry. " I try not to let the tightness in my throat prevent me from talking. " I should've listened to you. "

Eddie sighs, sounding more awake than he was moments ago. " What happened? "

" I ended it. You were right. He's embarrassed of me. He was fucking hiding me to protect his ego. "

" I'm sorry, kid. " Eddie's tone is sympathetic. " He's a dick. You deserve better than to be treated like that. You deserve someone who knows you're worth. Someone who's not afraid to be with you. You'll find that person someday. "

" I don't know, Ed. I miss him. " It feels so stupid it's only been a few minutes, but I do miss him. " But I'm also so fucking angry. He's so shallow. I'm so mad at myself for getting myself into this situation. "

" You fell in love. You can't choose who or when you fall in love. Unfortunately, you fell for the wrong guy. You'll get over this, kiddo. You just need to keep moving forward. "

I lay down on my bed, staring up at the poster on my ceiling. It's a poster Steve gave me on my birthday, one from one of my favorite bands.

I don't know where I'd be without Eddie. He's different than how other people expect him to be. He's always looking out for the people around him.

" Eddie? " I whisper after a moment of silence.

" Yeah? " He responds back, equally as quiet.

" Thank you. "

I might not have Steve anymore but I'll always have my friends, and that's the most important thing to me.

[bones4thecats]

What Are The Native Languages of TWST Characters? (PT. 1)

Note these are all in my opinion, in no way are these all canon things! Part One - Part Two - Part Three Heartslabyl, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle characters are all featured down below. While in part two there is Scarabia, Pomefiore, and Ignihyde. And finally in part three you can find Diasomnia and the Night Raven College Staff Members, with Grim and My AU! MC

Heartslabyul

Due to the linkage between the story of Alice in Wonderland being set in Victorian England, these characters all have a certain form of the language that they natively speak or can speak.

Riddle Rosehearts - British English ; Medium Accent Trey Clover - British English ; Light Accent Cater Diamond - American English ; Heavy Accent Deuce Spade - American English ; Heavy Accent Ace Trappola - British and American English ; Medium Accent

Savanaclaw

As being set inside of Africa, mainly places such as Kenya, this dorm's trio of characters all mainly have a linkage to said African languages. That is besides Jack Howl, who lives in a more winter terrain. So, I'll link him to somewhere such as Norway.

Leona Kingscholar - Swahili and Zulu ; Medium Accent Ruggie Bucchi - Swahili and Zulu ; Light Accent Jack Howl - Sami and Norwegian ; Medium-Heavy Accent

Octavinelle

As the remake of the movie The Little Mermaid is set in the Caribbean Sea, I shall use the languages used mainly in that area as a reference to what their native languages are.

Azul Ashengrotto - Papiamentu and Spanish ; Light Accent Jade Leech - Papiamentu and Dutch ; Light Accent Floyd Leech - Papiamentu and Dutch ; Medium Accent