#lego icebox

[jaystepher]

Let's build a vintage refrigerator with LEGO bricks for today's tutorial!

[k-kizkhalifa]

Pink Excerpt bc I’m weak for this fic, y’all. Enjoy some domestic drarry 💕

—

Draco was laughing when Harry walked out of the bedroom, he heard the laugh like a bubble, it was such a carefree noise and full of so much emotion. It filled every corner of the house and it filled Harry, who found Draco’s living room looking much less polished than it had last night.

The man in question was sprawled across the floor, on his stomach, with Teddy in front of him doing his best Draco Malfoy impression. Bright blonde hair, pointed features, a smirk in place, while he said the word, “Potter!”

Draco was laughing, hard, his whole body shaking with it. “Teddy, I do not sound like that!”

The boy grinned, “Teddy, I do not sound like that!”

“I’m going to get you,” Draco grabbed at the younger boy, who let out a gleeful laugh of his own, running and jumping on the couch. His features returned to normal as Draco jumped up, hurrying after him. “That’s it,” Draco was taunting with a smile, stalking towards the younger boy with his hands out for him.

Teddy squealed in laughter, jumping over the back of the couch and running straight at Harry. He looked up, and another smile flashed across his face, “daddy!”

“Hey, buddy,” Harry scooped him up, and gave him a tight snuggle. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” Teddy held him tightly, giving him a cuddle, “granny said you worked?”

“Yes, bud, I had some work to do,” Harry sat him down, “but all done for now, I get to be with you…two.” He glanced at Draco, who was letting out a quiet breath and smiling at them. “You didn’t have to let me sleep.”

“You needed it,” Draco smiled, lifting a shoulder, “I sleep in tomorrow,” he winked, watching Harry put Teddy down.

“What is all of this?”

“Oh, we got some toys. For here.” Draco waved a hand, as Teddy went running around the room, and straight for the lego pieces. “I mean he’s welcome to take them home, I don’t care. I can always get more.”

Harry gave Draco a look, “he doesn’t need more toys, Draco.”

Draco smiled again, “you’re the bad guy, I’m the good one.” He watched Harry take a step towards him, and then he reached out giving him a hug of his own, “let him be spoiled, Potter,” he whispered to the man, giving him a kiss on his temple. “It’s just toys, he’ll be bored of them in a few weeks and they’ll mean nothing.”

“Mm,” Harry closed his eyes, letting Draco hold him. “I was tired, I’m sorry.”

“Not a problem, honestly. I love this boy, he is perfect. We had fun.” Draco gave his arm a soft rub, “how are you? Feel okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, and leaned into his touch, “what time is it?

Draco glanced at his watch, “about noon. Hungry? Need anything? Your.. throat okay?”

Harry, flushed, and gave him a look, “Draco stop worrying about my throat.”

Draco chuckled, lifting an eyebrow, “I’d like to use it again, sometime, Potter. Have to make sure it’s alright.”

Harry took a breath and looked at Draco with wide eyes. “So you have decided that accidents do happen?”

“Hungry?” Draco asked again, smoothly. “We bought groceries,” he explained, dropping his arms, “go make us something.”

Harry collected himself, and after giving Draco a quick kiss he turned to the kitchen to see what it was they had bought. He figured that whatever it was, was surely something Teddy had picked out. He had just ducked into the icebox when he heard a knock on the door, and caught a sigh from Draco.

“Someone here,” Teddy said suddenly, and Harry peeked through the open setting and saw Draco walking towards his front door.

“Yes, someone is here. Let’s get rid of them, hm?” He was saying as Teddy ran over to him, and he took his hand. “We don’t like uninvited guests here, Teddy.” Draco explained softly, “unless it’s you and your father.” Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes watching Draco pull the door open. “Oh.” Harry heard from the other man in a rather tight tone, and Harry moved to get a look.

On the other side of the door stood Narcissa Malfoy, in all black robes and looking polished as ever. “Draco,” she greeted her son, before her eyes fell on Teddy Lupin in question, “a child?”

[lillianofliterature]

marvel preferences || 1/?

this is the first of many preferences I will start writing over time. if you have any preference requests, send them in via my inbox! i’m not writing full fics for anyone right now but I would love to take requests for preferences! check my masterlist for lists of fandoms/characters. happy reading!

DO NOT REPOST.

p.s. loki’s will probably always be the longest. he’s my comfort character and precious soul who deserves the MOST.

if gifs not sourced, they were found on google, lmk if they’re yours!

(more below the cut-off)

what made them fall in love with you

Steve Rogers

Your smile. Steve never thought he could find comfort in another person after he woke up in a brand new world. He had lost everyone he had ever known and everything he had been familiar with all of his life. But there was something in your smile that took him right back to 1942, to rich blackberry pie in his mother’s icebox, to the melodies that would play over the static of his old radio, and the alluring feeling of being at home again. He thrived off of your smile - so much so that he could scarcely go a day without seeing it. 

Tony Stark 

Your sass. Tony thought Pepper was the only one who could keep up with the quick-witted nonsense that rolled of his tongue until you came onto the scene. You were not only just as sharp as he was and kept pace with his attitudes and references, but totally ruthless in your quips which even left him speechless on occasion. Life was never dull around you and he didn’t feel like he needed to try and sensor his remarks or his frequent rudeness - he knew you could understand the reason or the emotion behind it and often even find his sense of humor in all of it. When he had seen you roll your eyes for the first time mid-conversation, Tony knew he was in too deep - especially when he realized your reaction was aimed at Steve. 

Clint Barton

Your sense of humor. To anyone who really knew the famed archer, it was basic knowledge to know that Clint had an affinity for a good sense of humor - believing himself to have one of the best. When he had gotten to know you a little better, he was ecstatic to finally have someone to joke around with and not have to worry about poor timing or moody reactions. You were always willing to have a laugh, especially in the midst of a serious or daunting situation. You had your share of dad jokes, cheesy puns, borderline offensive nicknames for everyone on the team, and so many other quips that Clint thrived off of. He found himself eager to be around you whenever he could, ready to bounce his latest joke off of you and just enjoy your company.

Natasha Romanoff

Your leadership skills. Natasha had saught a sense of security all of her life, especially since she had turned her life around and joined S.H.I.E.L.D.’s forces. When you later joined the team, you were able to bring each Avenger together and help them through their many differences - even Tony and Steve. Even out in the chaos of a mission, you had the ability to wrangle the team and find a way through every unforeseen situation. You had established a strong definition of unity for the team, determined to keep everyone together, and she loved you for that. 

Bruce Banner

Your intelligence. Bruce loved the fact that he could carry on an intellectual conversation with someone who could keep up with him when he was in his zone. Whether it was science, technology, or just the elaborate store of vocabulary you kept under your belt, he adored every bit of it. You didn’t even need to know all that much about his field of work to seem genuinely interested in his passions and he loved entertaining your interests as well. 

Peter Parker

Your nerdiness. Peter couldn’t believe he had met a girl who was just as obsessed with Star Wars as he was. Sure, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that girls could be nerds, but he had just never met one in person - at least not one as full of so many amazing qualities as you were. You were kind, funny, sharp-minded, and totally enthralled with anything to do with your fandoms, and never missed a beat when he used one of his many fandom-related references in day-to-day conversation. Not to mention you were downright beautiful. He enjoys nothing more than the hours he spends with you and Ned talking about movies, comics, and music, and especially the times you help them build their limited edition LEGO sets without a hint of judgement. You were something special. 

Scott

Your laugh. Scott couldn’t get enough of it. Since the first moment he had heard your real laughter, unkempt and wild, he had been finding ways to bring it out of you - which he succeeded at more times than not. There was something about the way that expression of joy left you breathless for air with little crinkles at the corners of your sparkling eyes. It was adorable. Being able to have that effect on you was one of the few things he could truly take pride in, and he would happily spend the rest of his life doing just that.

Heimdall

Your eyes. He is always careful to study a person’s eyes upon meeting them, knowing them to be the window to a person’s very soul; their innate being. When he looked into yours, he saw a mix starlight and wonderment. He could see from the very start that you had an honest soul - you sought no ill will upon anyone around you. You were good, passionate, and pure. You had captivated him with just a single glance and he found himself relentlessly drawn to you. 

Loki

The way you speak to him. Loki had spent a lifetime surrounded by voices fueled with negativity and condescension, apart from the voice of his mother. He had been the brunt of cruel jokes from the Warriors Three, blamed for his brother’s numerous misgivings as children, and forced to accept Odin’s distaste for him. When you came along, he had expected no different from you - but you proved him wrong. You spoke to him in a way no one, save his beloved mother, had ever spoken to him. 

You regarded him with respect as a noble, which most people had try to strip from him all of his life. Your kindness, which overflowed in abundance around him, warmed his soul with pleasure. Your tone was never anything less than sincere. Even when you grew frustrated with him, you were mindful to respect his triggers and could express your anger truthfully in love, without malice or hatred. When you laughed, you laughed with him, and not at him. Your compliments and endless affirmations of his worth gave him a since of residual positivity about himself. He found himself eager to see you and speak with you - he knew you would never dismiss him or abandon him. Because of you, he had begun to like himself as he was, not for what anyone told him he could never be.

Thor

Your compassion. Thor had known a great many people in his lifetime, noble and ordinary, and had yet to meet anyone with a heart as big as yours. You had seen him as more than just a stuck-up prince from the very beginning and had helped him see past himself and shed his arrogant scales. You never asked for anything more than simple kindess and in return, you gave your heart so fully to every cause. In many ways, you had taught him how to see with his heart and not so much his power or his royalty. You’d shown him how to see through the eyes of his people, and not just as their ruler. He wishes he could be as compassionate and selfess as you are. 

Brunnhilde  

Your combat skills. To say Valkyrie was impressed the day you slayed three Sakaar Imperials with one clean swing of your blade was an understatement. They had been looming in the distance, their weapons aimed for her head, as she fought of a hoard of junk hunters. The imperials had been out for her for a few weeks, ever since she had gained the special favor of the Grandmaster for her delivery of new gladiators or scum. Your swift decision to aide her saved her life. She hadn’t trusted the sword of anyone other than herself since the massacre of her fellow Valkyrie until she met you. She admired your skill and determined demeanor in a fight, as well as your ability to sense a sour situation. You had grown on her.

Peter Quill 

Your taste in music. Peter wasn’t used to having a receptive audience when it came to sharing his mix tapes with the Guardians. It took several weeks - for Drax, it took months - for them to begin to appreciate the songs he blasted through the sound system of the Milano. When you arrived on the scene, he was more than ecstatic to find your Zune hidden away in your things after Rocket, who had yet to trust you, had convinced him to search your bags for any incriminating evidence. It was loaded with many of the same songs he had spent his life memorizing and dancing to. From then on, after you got over the snooping through your things in secret, you and Peter would share your music. Whether it be oldies, new discoveries, or absurd alien songs that came through the radio frequencies, Peter couldn’t be happier to finally have someone who understood the power of music the way he did. 

[powerviolent-blog]

Making Billions at the Dollar General (Part 4)

Maybe the greatest benefit came camouflaged as a difficulty, when archrival Dollar Tree beat Dollar General in an offering war for the flimsier performing Family Dollar. That 2015 obtaining has genuinely hampered Dollar Tree. The joined organization has 15,300 stores, nearly the same number of as Dollar General, yet its development has moderated as it redesigns many Family Dollar areas. Dollar Tree as of late brought a $2.7 billion record identified with the merger.

Every one of these elements put Dollar General in the shaft position in the race to serve family units acquiring somewhere in the range of $50,000 and $75,000 per year. Those are the quickest developing piece of its customer base, J.P. Morgan as of late assessed. Dollar General alludes to its most incessant customers, those with the least yearly salaries, as "BFFs," or closest companions perpetually, while mid-level customers are "companions." The following level up, the one J.P. Morgan recognized as the quickest cultivators, are "acquain­tances," and Dollar General might want to know them much better.

As a business recommendation, selling ground hamburger and tomatoes is intrinsically more hazardous than selling corn chips and solidified burritos. Produce and crisp meat ruin; representatives need to watch out for them and hurl them on the off chance that they turn sour. "You're discussing a dimension of supervision that is a lot higher," says Craig Johnson, the retail expert. That can mean higher work costs that eat into the famously slender crisp sustenance edges.

Regardless of that problem, new sustenance could be the way to Dollar General's next development stage—particularly on the off chance that it makes both "BFFs" and "colleagues" visit all the more regularly. "The key is to have [customers] get an additional thing that they would not have previously," says Moody's investigator Mickey Chadha. Customers burn through $13 on the normal dollar-store visit, as per Nielsen, contrasted and $40 at a major box store like Walmart. Dollar General doesn't have the item choice to trade stores for standard sustenance runs, however catching only one more buy for every visit bigly affects income.

The organization as of now has proof that nourishment pays. It says that at customary Dollar General stores that include a lot of iceboxes—a sign that they're growing their sustenance choices—deals ordinarily increment 10% to 15% in the principal year. Dollar General sells produce at 450 of its stores, incorporating a couple of dozen of every a small scale market group that it propelled in 2003. It'll include such things at an extra 200 stores this year, a modest division of its armada yet a major enough research facility to test whether sustenance goads more prominent dedication.

In the background, the organization is finding a way to ensure its nourishment stock is as firmly overseen as the remainder of its lineup. Among other real activities, it is trying a chilly storeroom in Pennsylvania that is only for transitory sustenance in its own stores. The thought is to remove costs from the framework, abstain from being out of supply of famous items, and have "power over our predetermination," says boss vendor Jason Reiser. Dollar General could conceivably twofold its net revenue on milk, for instance, by getting it to coolers prior, decreasing waste.

Dollar General will never be Whole Foods. At a store in Hendersonville, Tenn., the most costly wine is a Barefoot Moscato, at $13.10 a container. Be that as it may, its new sustenance contributions incorporate a significant number of the optimistic trappings that increasingly well-off customers like. The chain is presenting "better for you" items at more stores, including sustenances promoted under its own "Great and Smart" mark, close by name brands like Annie's, Nature Valley, and Kashi. The stores that sell organic products, in the mean time, present them in shockingly welcoming showcases, in containers that seem as though they're made of wood—and uncover themselves as plastic just when you draw near enough to contact them.

Customers meandering through downtown Raleigh, Nashville, or Philadelphia as of late may have discovered a little, ­modern-looking retail facade under a "DGX" sign. These stores are another Dollar General trial: They're put in downtown areas, and they stress items like caffeinated beverages and snatch and-go sandwiches in a procedure went for more youthful customers. Ten more DGX stores will open this year; they'll be another front in Dollar General's opposition with Dollar Tree, which is better settled in the urban regions Dollar General wants.

Yet, even at these stores, Dollar General isn't on a very basic level changing its formula for progress. There might be sushi, shimmering California wine, and Lego sets, yet a significant part of the choice at DGX is still evaluated at $1 or less. These are fundamental, practically basic things: four moves of tissue for $1, for instance, or a $1 chicken pot pie that, for all its potential wholesome downsides, still indicates a supper. They're likewise updates that Dollar General's center business still relies upon the support of customers absent much space for extravagance. "One dollar isn't a motivation value point; it is a 'traverse the-month' value point," says Reiser, the central shipper.

Indeed, even Dollar General's tech mirrors this reality. A developing number of stores have cost checking scanners sprinkled through the passageways. The thought is to enable customers to monitor their sums, in case they get to the money register and acknowledge they don't have enough cash. "They don't generally have that additional dollar in their spending limit," says one official; the exact opposite thing the organization needs to do is humiliate them at checkout.

[themarionetteanovel]

Chapter Forty-Six - Return to the Abandoned Mansion

Claire tried Adam’s phone but hung up before leaving a message. He was still out of town. Or he’d returned and not bothered contacting her. Two weeks until classes started. She couldn’t wait to be busier again. Carmen had gone back home for a visit and she could think of no one else she wanted to call. She made herself eat a bowl of generic corn flakes, fetched her purse, and headed out. She had a hunch the arrangement in the window of Maurer and Sons would be different, that whoever lurked inside knew she’d visited that underground chamber again.

Main Street was quiet when she reached the storefront. A basement room in the dollhouse appeared to contain a new item, but it was obscured by the Kali statue. She stepped into the alcove and peered through the side window, only now her view was blocked by the dollhouse wall. She came out again and went to the far right side of the main window, standing almost in the doorway of the long-vacated Anderson’s Tools. Now she could see something. Robed figurines the size of her thumb stood in a circle in one of the shoebox-sized rooms. More details resolved in the darkness; they surrounded the head of a blonde marionette. The scene was both comical and grotesque, like a horror movie played by Lego dolls. She doubted she’d find any corresponding room in the mansion but she felt compelled to check anyway.

She passed Corner Café and no sign of Allison or Kevin inside. All the way through the factory grounds Claire puzzled over Allison’s possible motives and what she really knew. Adam had warned her the woman was not what she seemed.

No car was parked on the property surrounding the mansion. The front entrance was locked, so she went in through a door on the southern side. She’d explored this part before, where she’d come across the icebox, and did a cursory check for any stairs leading down. One narrow door looked promising but seemed to be bolted on the other side.

She continued into the main hallway. The lobby looked cleaner than she remembered. Less grime on the checkered floor, less dust piling in the corners. She ambled into the other wing of the mansion, her ears alert for footsteps or a car approaching. She peeked into the library. She vaguely remembered coming in here before. This room had a fireplace, the mantle carved out of wood and surrounded by recessed shelves. No staircase anywhere.

She continued along the hall to the end. A pair of cracked black rubber boots stood near the door. To her left, a rusted pitchfork. She peered out the window to a view of the empty yard. Tire tracks crisscrossed the gravel. She strained her ears. No cars coming.

At last she found a set of stairs leading down. A light bulb dangled from the low ceiling. She tugged the chain. No light came on. She hesitated, wanting to find the room matching the one in the dollhouse where she’d seen that dismembered marionette, and yet she feared being trapped. There had to be a second set of stairs, or a window she could escape from.

She turned on her LED flashlight and began descending. The stairs were sturdy and only one of the steps creaked under her foot. Her light grew paler and kept blinking off. She should have brought spare batteries. She came down into the cellar and stood still, waiting for her eyes to adjust. With a growing sense of dread, she ambled past massive timbers supporting the upper floors. The floor was dirt and hard as concrete, with a musty, earthy smell.

She took out her phone. No service. She aimed her flashlight at the far corner and stepped closer. The foundation was stone, later whitewashed, now stained with mildew. An archway to her left that made her think of catacombs in an old cathedral. One window had been boarded up ages ago, the wood weathered and cracked. So there were windows down here. She felt slightly more relieved; she could tear off those boards if she had to.

She stepped through the archway, no longer sure where she was in relation to the floor above. She came upon a passage that appeared to have been constructed more recently. The foundation walls were cinder blocks rather than stone, as if the mansion had been built around a smaller, older dwelling. She shambled through a more modern-looking, but still cavernous, room, hearing nothing apart from her own muffled footsteps scraping along the cement.

She stepped through a doorway and gasped as her flashlight hit upon a spot of bright red. Paint. Dried blood would be brown, she reminded herself. She felt as if she were in a maze as she came into a small room with a door to her right. A washing machine sat against the far wall, similar to one her grandmother used to own, so not that ancient. A stained basin was fastened to the wall beside it. She turned the faucet; no water came out. The pipes were copper, turquoise near where they had been soldered.

Just as she was exiting the room she heard a car slowing to a stop outside. The engine cut. Her heart skipped a beat. She raced into an adjoining chamber, where she could see sunlight coming in through the dirty pane. Too high for her to reach, nothing around for her to stand on.

She ran out again and found a staircase. She began climbing, hoping she was about to come out of that door near the kitchen. Outside, the quiet thump of a car door slamming shut. She scrambled up rickety steps and slammed against the door. It flew open, sending her stumbling into the hallway. Adrenaline surged in her veins as she tried to get her bearings. Footsteps scuffed across the gravel just beyond the nearest door. She dashed out into the main corridor. The lobby, and freedom, was a thirty foot sprint. At the sound of feet tromping closer, inside now, she hid herself in an alcove.

[aliveandfullofjoy]

*FINAL* Oscar Predictions

Alright, y’all. These are Tuesday. It’ll be fun to see how off these are. 

Best Picture (alphabetical order) 01. Call Me by Your Name 02. Darkest Hour 03. Dunkirk 04. Get Out 05. I, Tonya 06. Lady Bird 07. The Post 08. The Shape of Water 09. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

[caseymidkiff]

“I Am From” Poetry

Our 5th-7th grade students wrote poems modeled after George Ella Lyon’s poem “Where I’m From”. The poems turned out simply beautiful, full of striking imagery and fine detail. Some students would like to share their writing with you...

Where I am From 

by Kai

I am from pine trees that are so very tall

From youtube and video games

I am from the L-shaped house with greenish siding

Linoleum floors with hardwoods underneath

Huge backyard and high-voltage powerlines

I am from celebrating the winter solstice

And Thanksgiving at my grandparents’

From Mom and Dad and Niko, Nana and Grandpa

I’m from homeschooling

From North Carolina, Asia, and Europe,

Tacos filled with ground turkey and guacamole

From my Big Daddy’s house where he collected toys that I could not play with

The trip to Oregon and up to Washington

The digital files on the computer that hold all of our memories.

Where I Am From 

by Samantha

I am from my siblings,

 my mom, and my dad.

I am from my stuffed animals,

The ones I have amassed among the years.

I am from trees,

The chocolate tree that fell.

I am from a blueberry bush,

The berries we never ate.

I am from road trips,

To Boston and back.

I am from my dad’s cooking,

Turkey -beef tacos and fish.

I am from California

Until we moved when I was 3.

I from the bright red back porch,

Where we could climb under,

 until we got scared of snakes.

I am my bright red hair,

That skipped a generation.

I am my name,

After relatives that died long ago.

I am from the jungle,

A short patch of trees and bushes in the front yard.

I am from Judaism,

From a Sunday school I have just begun.

I am from a house of bricks,

Tennis balls banging on it day and night.

I am from video games,

A different virtual world.

I am from books,

Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, graphic novels.

I am from tv shows,

Preschool shows I had to watch.

I am from my daydreams,

Fairies, magic and mermaids.

I am from art,

Doodles said to help me concentrate.

I am from homeschooling,

Co-ops that didn’t work out.

I am from my friends,

Here and far.

I am from my family, 

My mom and dad, 

my sisters and brother.

This is where I am from.

Where I am From

by Shane

I am from TV

From Legos and Minecraft

I am from the white brick cube 

With many decorations inside

I am from crepe myrtles in the front lawn

And the pretty pink flowers that grow on them

I’m from Christmas and madness

From my brother Thomas and my Dad

I’m from comedy movies my family and I watch and amusing board games we play

From “be kind” and “use words not actions”

I’m from Cristianity, God and Christ

I’m from New York and Cuba

Potato chips and salad

From the time my dog got lost and everyone was searching

The iced tea my mom always drinks 

And the pictures on her phone

From the great memories stored in the garage, the hockey net, my dogs, and the pool 

My Life

My house is a brick box

Surrounded by trees, bushes, and flowers

Basically a forest

Warm fire on the holidays

Crackling 

Logs turning to ash slowly

A loving dog, a bloodhound

Sophie was super sweet

Lying beside me when I was sick

The winter solstice

Gathering family

Turning pages of the solstice story

-Béla

by Allison

I am from an apple tree

A two story wooden  brick home 

Fun, cute, awesome 

I am from the daisy’s beautiful white petals 

I am from snowboarding and kidneys 

From dad and mom  

Watching Simpsons and hiking 

I am from sushi night 

And from scrap books filled with family photos. 

by Odin

I am from the creaky dresser drawer that never fit right

From hair goop and basketball shorts

I am from clover and clay

Comforting beneath my bare feet

From the turkey at Thanksgiving

And cookies at Christmas

I am from Great Grandpa Jerry

Who died at 98

And Old Papa Mike

Whose napping superb

I am from the booming of thunder and the 

Flickering of lightning

From sunshine and pool time 

And gorgeous moonlighting

I am from the excitement 

That comes with a long forest run 

From shade and shadow 

In which I hid from many a-wandering sorrow

by Aiden 

I Am From .... (this stuff)

I am from the paint that never dries on our front porch wall,

From crepe myrtles, which are literally everywhere, along with Legos,

I am from the large bricks that cover the front of our house, 

The stories that I wrote and Calvin and Hobbes, 

From Harry Potter,

From the yellow blossoms that never grew until we moved the sandbox, 

I am from the sky, which is blue in case you didn’t know,

From the board game closet that’s always overflowing, 

I am from Christmas and birthdays, 

From my mother and father, from my younger sister,

From “mm hm” and “Hm mm”

From the hospital (where most people are born)

From everything i just said

by Sophie

I am from the whitewashed brick, the cool tile floor,

 I am from the city apartment only a few blocks away from the Pentagon

 with loud street noise and the first snowflake I had ever seen, 

I am from a townhome,

 I am from the living room littered with a wheelchair, fracture boot, scooter, and crutches,

 I am from the old brick box,

 the green landline, 

and icebox,

 the old decrepit shiplap that even Chip and Joanna couldn't resurrect,

The smoke-stained walls,

 the door that leads to nothing, 

the renovation after renovation 

I am from the hibiscus as much the pine,

 whose sweet nectar I would drink, and who’s needles I would braid

I'm from Richard and the Bretons

From Astrid and the Laurenceaus,

 I'm from the road trips to Miami and beech mountain.

 From “wap kraze kay-la-non”

 I'm from Miami and Haiti

creole shrimp, and banana pezé  

From the fall and Mom’s broken foot that changed our lives forever 

The hurricane that left them without power for a year. 

I am from those cringy facebook pictures,

everything from the embarrassing photos of coke bottle glasses and train track teeth,

 to the cute baby photos and funny pics.

 I am from the photos that tell us about our history and the importance of family.

The I Am Poem

Divyansh 

I am from the pencil lead & the leftover eraser dust.

From the Cheerios and the Newest Apple Phones.

I am from the papers downstairs: written on and valued, usually scattered on my desk.

I am from the water that is fluid and fresh.

I’m from Diwali, the festival of lights and celebration, the adventurous firecrackers we burst I always remember.

From my beloved mom (Vinita) & my amazing dad (Jagat).

I’m from the Math & the Art.

From the saying “Don’t get too attached to anything, but your soul, because that is the only thing that will carry on with you”

I’m from India’s Gulab Jamun and Pani Puri.

From the hair of my dad, thick and black. 

The hands of my mom all colorful after making a painting.

Downstairs in the basement, there was a folder packed with my family river rafting and more.

Forgotten until needed. 

by Victor

I am from Hong Kong

I am from the hammer in Donkey Kong

I am from the ghosts in Pac-Man

I am from the Made In China symbol

I am from the burritos at Chipotle

I am from the chicken sandwiches at Popeyes

I am from the default skin in Fortnite

I am from Lifeline in Apex Legends

I am from Steve in Minecraft

I am from the chicken minis at Chick-Fil-A

I am from the amazing name Victor

I am from the shoes at the store

I Am From

By Julie 

I am from “No passion, no life,”

From, “What really is your dream?”

I am from slipping off a rock and falling into Lake Eno,

And the smoke-filled streets of Putuo, Shanghai.

From falling asleep to 11-inch music posters, which I long to own,

The loud, yet satisfying, loud Sunday family dinners,

And the money-filled red pockets of Lunar New Year.

Yet along with fulfilling my dreams of piano and swimming,

I am also from self-doubt and pretending to be okay.

From an endless amount of classes,

And long nights of, “Will I be able to make it?”

“Will I ever be good enough?”

And, “What will happen if I don’t?”

I am from oversized T-shirts, and conservative leggings,

But most importantly, from the essence of friends, family, and hope.

Where I am from

by Esha

I am from inflatable yoga balls

From Ticonderoga and Under Armour

I am from dozens of marigolds 

Bright, glossy, the color of a yellow school bus.

I am from the brick steps that lead up to the porch

Tall, rusty filled with dozens of ants

I am from the blue and green courts, filled with intersecting lines

From the tennis ball poster perched awkwardly on my door

I am from spicy taco shells

From four square and freeze tag

I am from “Hurry up!” and “It’s a big a deal you know!”

I am from the large squeaky doors, that always took a while to shut

From oversized T-shirts and comfy sneakers

And from the awkward karaoke I sang in the shower,

Which I thought no one could hear.

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Thanks Chekkaboom for helping me build my 30th Lego Architecture. #ArcdeTriomphe #Paris #LegoArchitechture (at Icebox's Abode)