#nfts gala

[richardarmitagefanpage]

Richard attended the NFTS Gala 2023 in London, UK. (June 20, 2023)

[riepu10]

richardcarmitage @nftsfilmtv @sonypicturesuk A great night. Walking home now…5am pick up in the morning  😳😳😳 (x)

[bunbury-shitposts]

Navigating the territory of the art world is a motivational experience. Art exhibitions throughout history have been the pictorial panacea for one’s emotive convalescence. However, the design of these exhibitions seems to contradict its aim, i.e., to welcome all into its space. It is commonly perceived as an intimidating and daunting hemisphere of intellectual entertainment. The elitist display structure that has become the norm of the high art space removes itself from financially unviable and thus the ignorable milieu.

Local Art is Far, and High Art is Near

Although famous paintings are digitally accessible to all, local art is not. Displaying the works of renowned local artists in the ivory tower of the fine arts scene curbs their outreach and mitigates their history, confining it to a small crowd of only art critics, writers, or artists. While everyday art talk must include a Dali or a Van Gogh, lesser-known artists or even local centennial arts find no place in those chats. In a metropolis teeming with people from all communities of society, the consumption of paintings is considered a luxury. On any day of the week, a group of resident art enthusiasts gathers around the University campus or at a vintage coffeehouse exchanging thoughts on art chaperoned by caffeine and smoke rather than visiting their local galleries. The news of the auction of a ‘Salvatore Mundi‘ reaches a small community of art aficionados, whereas the struggles of women artists expressed in their paintings in vegetable colors, displayed at a gallery a few minutes from their homes, remains obscure.

Read my take on high art culture, nfts, and gen z's reaction published here ✨ https://thedailylifemagazine.com/nfts-influencing-gen-zs-idea-of-art/

I need to mention that this observation piece was heavily inspired by Kim Namjoon's instagram page rkive. He inspired me to visit my local art galleries and write about it.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Timari Betrothed AU

The Dupain-Chengs see a sad child at a charity gala and are instantly like 'adopt'

But it doesn't work like that when the sad child already has parents. How sad. The legal system fails us all again

So they settle for marrying off their child

What can I say it's wild out there

Months later, Marinette groans, flopping back on Kagami's bed, glowering at the engagement ring on her finger

She could admit that it was a nice ring, but that doesn't mean that she has to like being engaged to someone she's never met

She has never cared about marriage all that much, she can understand why her parents would assume that meant she'd be fine with a mostly fake marriage

Especially because...

"Didn't they ask you about all of this ages ago and you agreed to let them try?"

"I mean, YEAH, but I didn't think it'd WORK. We have no money, why the hell would the Drakes even agree to marry him off to ME?"

"Probably because you're in France. If he lived on another continent, they'd have every excuse not to come visit him"

Marinette looks at her hands. She could sympathize with that, but it didn't mean that she was HAPPY about her current situation

Kagami seems confused by her being uncomfortable with an arranged marriage. Marinette probably should have gone to someone else

But it's not like any of her other friends would understand any better. They're all rich. Why does she have, like, rich kid pheromones?

Adrien might have understood, but his dad just got into NFTs so, like, he clearly had bigger problems to deal with right now

She sighs and complains about him being American. She works at a reasonably popular bakery, she's seen enough American tourists in her life to know that a vast majority of them are annoying as hell. Especially when they're rich

And she'll have to speak English the whole time. Ugh

But she's surprised when she meets him and finds out that he speaks French (it's slightly broken French, and he definitely needs practice, but it's still French)

Apparently, the nanny he had as a kid was a French immigrant. Who knew

She agrees to take him around on a tour of the city

[littlefankingdom]

I need y'all to understand that Bruce is not a normal billionaire. He is a billionaire because it's useful to the plot, but he is not a billionaire like our billionaires. Don't make him say or do shits billionaires do, he is not like that.

I just have enough of the posts and fics where people makes Bruce pro-capitalist, a finance bro with nfts or against leftist ideas like free housing because "the economy 😭😭". That's not him at all, and y'all are showing that you only saw the Lego Batman movie.

First, Bruce pays his taxes and hates that other rich don't. It is shown in Future State: Dark Detective, where he literally says that rich people who don't contribute to making society better kind of deserve to be killed by a vigilante. Murder is still bad, but he will not cry them AT ALL.

Second, Bruce hates how people abuse the housing markets, rising the prices, kicking out poor people, you know the drill. This is shown in Batman: White Knight, when Bruce PUNCHES his rich FRIEND at a gala after learning that the guy is buying properties in Crime Alley, kicks the poor people out and build new apartments complexes with rent way too high for the old residents. In Gotham Knights (the comics), he tests Lucius by playing the normal rich asshole and being like "we can't take money from the shareholders, these hard working folks, to help the poor", because he wants to see if it will make Lucius angry. Once it does, he is like "good, you should be" and tell him he will sign it. Not being mad at the inequalities in the world is not acceptable for Bruce.

Thirdly, Batman: The Animated Series often establishes how the real vilains are not the rogues but rich people. Bruce doesn’t disagree with Poison Ivy or Mr Freeze, but with their methods. Bruce doesn’t hate his rogues, because he knows they were pushed to a corner, but he hates the rich in charge. The owner of a company is shown to be a bad guy because he doesn't think his workers deserve to have a say in the company. Seriously, if BTAS was made today, we would be submerged with tweets and videos from people crying that they made Batman a communist.

Fourthly, while we are at it with BTAS, Bruce cares about the environment. I have seen this terrible panel of Bruce, as Batman, being mad that Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn destroyed a WE factory who was heavily polluting, which is ooc. In BTAS, Bruce is shown threatening to fire WE higher-ups because they made a partnership with a company hurting the environment. This partnership is why Poison Ivy targets him in the episode and tries to kill him, btw, which shows once again that they agree on the matter, it's the murder the problem. Outside of BTAS, must I remind everyone that Bruce was going to marry Talia Al Ghul and that Ra's Al Ghul saw a heir in him??? Like, he has to be a bit of an ecologist for ECO-TERRORISTS to love him this much. Also, Alfred said to Dick when he joined their household that Alfred wants ecological issues to be taken care of. No way would Bruce not has been raised to care about the environment, or would harm the planet knowing Alfred doesn't like it.

Finally, WE has multiple charities and organizations dedicated to help people in Gotham. WE gives jobs to ex-convicts and help them in getting rehabilitate. Bruce feeds, clothes and houses the poor, he pays for any damage done by vigilantes or rogues. He has money to give and he gives it. AND all the galas exist so he can take money from the rich to give to the poor. He even encourages Dick in Nightwing (2016) to manipulate as much as possible his guests to milk their money. Bruce wants to take from the rich to help the poor, that's always been the case.

[minthandsoap]

꧁•⊹٭𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚝 𝟸٭⊹•꧂

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐢𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐈 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨(???) 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝 (𝐞𝐡) 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐢𝐟 𝐲'𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬

｡.✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 🥹❤️😔𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 👹💥🎇 ✰.｡

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝟨.𝟣𝓀 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈

“Marie! Over here!” 

A barrage of camera flashes erupted, momentarily blinding Marie's vision in a mass of blinding white. Loud voices from every direction, calling for her name, desperate for one look from Marie’s mesmerizing brown eyes. Journalists and news reporters moved around her, their hungry eyes fixated on her and Dean Shetty as they stepped onto the gala's floor. Despite the overwhelming attention, Marie looked like a professional, kept a perfect smile, her gaze unwavering as the cameras took pictures of her. She was fucking nervous though. Having all of this attention on her is not something she can quite get used to. 

Marie continued through the mass of people, her smile as practiced as it was genuine. Each wide grin from the crowd elicited a reciprocating one from her, and grateful "we love you Marie!"s were met with equally rehearsed "thank you so much!"s – her mind remembering the media training session Dean Shetty had put her through just hours prior. 

"Come, Marie," Dean Shetty's voice cut through her thoughts, her hand gently ushering Marie away. "There are a few key people I'd like you to meet."

But the "key people" quickly blurred into a relentless carousel of outstretched hands and business cards. "Here's my card," they'd repeat, their eyes gleaming with opportunism, not genuine connection. One even thrust a phone in her face, muttering something about an NFT, whatever that was. Each interaction felt so scripted, so fucking draining.

Behind the smile, a cold dread bloomed in Marie's chest. Every question about her "parents" – gone, a tragedy she held so close – felt like a fresh wound. Yet, the charade continued, the lie clinging to her like a gilded shroud, telling everyone that her parents were fucking Doctors Without Borders. The weight of it all – the attention, the facade, the suffocating expectations – threatened to pull her under. "Everything is becoming so overwhelming," she thought, yearning for a single moment of genuine connection in this sea of calculated smiles.

Exhausted from what felt like an eternity of uncomfortable small talk and disingenuous greetings, Marie finally found refuge with Dean Shetty in a less populated corner.

"Pretend I don’t know your age," she smiled, amusement dancing in her eyes. "You did great out there."

“Yeah,” Marie sighed, her voiced tinged with weariness as she took the glass and followed Dean Shetty when she began to walk. “I don’t know… lying about my family felt pretty shitty.”

Dean Shetty’s playful expression softened a bit. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a hushed murmur. "These people don’t want to hear the truth, and you don’t want to say it" she gave her a pointed look.

Marie's gaze drifted past Dean Shetty and the swirling mass of bodies, finding solace in the distant, starlit sky glimpsed through a window. Dean Shetty's words echoed in her ears, each syllable a truth she desperately wished wasn't. The world craved a fairytale, a narrative woven with threads of happiness and perfect families. Telling them the truth, the raw, jagged mess of it all, would shatter that illusion, leaving behind shards of pity she couldn't afford.

The truth was a festering wound, hidden deep in files no one can find. It was the hollowness that followed her everywhere, the absence that screamed loud in her mind. She will always remember the day it happened, the deafening silence that replaced the warmth of laughter, the suffocating emptiness that settled where love once resided. The lifeless bodies that were her parents, the blood splattered on the walls and pooled on the floor, the look of absolute fear on her sister's face. Fear of her. Telling the truth meant reliving that nightmare, exposing the vulnerability she guarded fiercely.

But it was also a burden, a secret that weighed her down, a constant reminder of the life she'd lost. Each "thank you" for her " performance " felt like a fresh thorn, each fabricated story a betrayal of the ghosts she held close. The line between her carefully constructed persona and the fractured person beneath blurred with every interaction, leaving her teetering on the edge of a breakdown everyday.

A prickling sensation crawled up Marie's spine. Like a spotlight suddenly aimed in her direction, she felt a singular gaze burning through the crowd, pinning her with its intensity. She instinctively looked up, meeting the steely brown eyes of Jordan Li briskly walking past her with their parents in tow. The air seemed to crackle with the unspoken tension between them, and a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. 

She knew better than to expect for her and Jordan’s “relationship” to continue after– well after everything. Within two weeks after their hookup in the club bathroom, Professor Brink was killed in a murder suicide. When thrust into the unforgiving spotlight of national television, Marie chose a narrative of carefully curated lies, a script that was fed to her over the truth. She painted herself as the God U’s lone savior, proclaiming to the world that she had single-handedly stopped Luke's bloodthirsty rampage when in reality Marie, gripped by fear, had fled leaving Jordan to fight Luke alone. It was Jordan who faced Luke to protect the school. To protect her . 

Their pleas, Jordan's call for help, echoed in her mind, fueled by the constant replay of that 

fateful day. Fear had been her accomplice, driving her to flee instead of standing by Jordan. Now, the mask of heroism she wore felt suffocating, every accolade she received a shard of truth piercing her conscience. 

Jordan's hatred was a bitter pill to swallow, yet she understood it all too well. Their grief, raw and untamed, mirrored the guilt festering within her. Could she justify her actions based on their pain? And to top it off, Marie took their spot in the rankings, an added benefit she got for lying. Fuck Marie didn’t know what to do.

“Lucky Jordan doesn’t have laser eyes,” Dean Shetty's voice cut through her thoughts. “Be careful. With Luke gone this free-for-all for number one is gonna get ruthless, and you have a target on your back.”

“Me?” Marie questioned, a bit confused. “I’m just a freshman,” Marie added, stammering a bit.

Dean Shetty's smile turned reassuring.“Keep doing what you’re doing, you could be the first top ranked freshman in history.”  

Marie couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face from hearing that. She’d be able to prove to the world, prove to her sister that she is a good person.

Marie fidgeted with the lace trim of her crimson gown, itching to escape its confines. “Can’t wait to get out of this fucking dress” she thought, longing for the comfort of her everyday clothes.

"But in darkness, stars can truly shine. Like Marie Moreau, the Guardian of Godolkin." Marie felt the heat of the spotlight as its beam sliced through the shadows, pinning her. Dean Shetty's voice, once a murmur that she was able to drown out, now amplified to a booming sound that echoed through the banquet hall. Every syllable hammered against Marie's skull, each praise laden with a bitter aftertaste. The entire night had been a gilded cage, each smile, each posed photograph, a sacrifice offered at the altar of their grand narrative.

Her mind churned. Every mention by Dean Shetty of her name, once a source of pride, now scraped with the rough edges of resentment. She wanted to scream, to tear off the red gown and flip off this fucking charade, but the price of her silence remained etched in clear, unspoken promises. The recognition she wanted, the future she craved , depended on this “masquerade”.

So, she smiled, a fixed expression that tugged at the corners of her mouth, a ghost of the genuine joy it once mirrored. Applause thundered around her, a deafening storm she endured with an unwavering posture. Each clap felt like a hammer blow. 

Dean Shetty's voice rose to a flourish, "Let's give Marie, and the stars like her, the future they deserve" The pronouncement landed with a sickening thud. Each hand raised in applause felt like a pointed finger, each donation a reminder of the debt she owed this fabricated persona. "A donation to the #ThinkBrink Foundation," Dean continued, clapping her hands loudly, "will provide long overdue upgrades to the combat gym and recording studio! So please, open your hearts, give generously. Right Marie?" 

Marie's smile deepened, morphing into a breathtaking cascade of beauty. A soft, melodic chuckle escaped her lips, adding a touch of genuine charm. 

As Dean Shetty's final words echoed through the hall, the applause slowly subsided, leaving a soft murmur in its wake. Marie relished the dimming of the spotlight, the return of shadows offering a blessed reprieve from the scrutiny of everyone around her. Dean Shetty joined her at a nearby table, their champagne flutes clinking as they both took a sip. A video honoring Professor Brink played on the large screen, a solemn montage of his laughter, lectures, and moments with students. Each image flickered like a silent accusation, a reminder of the lie Marie clung to.

During the montage, a picture flashed across the screen. Professor Brink, beaming warmly, with Jordan by his side. Their bright smile, untouched by the killing of Brink that now haunted them, pierced straight into Marie's chest. Guilt lanced through her, an unwelcome feeling to the want that stirred within her for Jordan. Marie tore her gaze away from the screen, unable to bear the weight of Jordan’s smile any longer. The atmosphere around her suddenly felt suffocating.

When the video ended, the room immediately was lively again, which Marie felt was odd considering the overly sad video that was just played. Dean Shetty leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I just knew you’d be great at this, Marie. Bet you scored a million in pledges,” she said, a calculating glint in her eyes. “You’re a fucking superstar. You saved my ass,” Dean Shetty sipped her champagne thanking Marie.

“Your ass needed saving?” she echoed, unable to keep the question from escaping her lips.

Dean chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “A dean’s whole job is raising money.” she said, taking another sip of champagne. “After Golden Boy, the donations were going down the toilet. And so was I.”

Her voice dipped even lower, almost conspiratorial. “But then one look at that smile of yours and their wallets just cracked right open.”

“Good.”  Marie managed after a beat of silence, the word scraping dryly against her tongue.  “I’m glad I could be useful to you.”she added, the last part laced with a bitterness she couldn't entirely mask.

“Oh!” Dean Shetty, oblivious to the undercurrent of resentment in Marie's voice, let out a dismissive chuckle. “So useful. You’re fantastic, excuse me.” Before Marie could respond, Dean Shetty glided away, her smile switching on like a practiced light as she approached another guest, likely with the sole purpose of securing another hefty donation.

Marie watched her go, the champagne in her glass suddenly tasting flat and metallic, realization washing over her like a cold wave. 

A surge of anger, hot and unexpected, pulsed through her. Anger at the fabricated narrative, the exploited grief, the donations lining Dean Shetty's pockets, and using her so Dean Shetty can save face. It was all a fucking  sham, and she was fucking sick of playing a part in it. 

With a sudden movement, her fingers flew to the pink and blue pin adorning her dress. With a sharp tug, she ripped it free, the metal glinting accusingly in the dim light. She tossed the pin onto the table, it landing with a dull thud. Leaving it behind, she walked away, wanting to step outside to get some fresh air. 

Just as she reached the edge of the crowd, a voice snagged her attention. "Hey Moreau," Jordan called out, their voice tinged with amusement. They were seated across from Cate who was watching her with a tilt of her head. 

Marie sighed, the weariness settling heavier on her chest. The last thing she wanted was to be drawn into an impromptu confrontation, especially not with Jordan. “I'm not in the mood, okay?” she said, her voice tight with barely suppressed emotion. “You can attack me in the morning."

She turned to leave again not wanting to deal with whatever shit Jordan felt like throwing at her at the moment.. Their smirk held a familiar edge, laced with the biting sarcasm that had once drawn her in but now felt grating.”I’m surprised you can walk straight with everyone’s tongue lodged up your ass.”

Marie's retort came sharp, laced with the frustration simmering just beneath the surface.  “Leave me alone,” she snapped, her voice tight with barely contained anger. “You don’t know shit about me.” But her words seemed to go in one of their ears and out the other, failing to deter them.

Jordan leaned back in their chair, a smirk playing on their lips. “Brownnoser, one-upper.” hey drawled, their voice dripping with mock concern. “Mommy and Daddy’s perfect little hero.” The words were like a lit match tossed into a tinderbox of Marie's suppressed emotions.

“Yeah, well that’s definitely not me,” she choked out, each word laced with bitterness.  Because my parents are dead. Because I killed them” he confession hung heavy in the air, raw and unexpected. “You happy?”

Jordan's smirk faltered, a flicker of surprise momentarily replacing their usual self-assured expression. But it was quickly masked again with that same fucking smirk. "Bullshit," they scoffed eyes trained on Marie.

Marie felt a wave of despair wash over her. Taking a shaky breath, she forced herself to meet their gaze, her voice shaky.  “I didn’t know I had powers until my first period,” she began, the words raw and jagged on her tongue. “I couldn’t control the blood and it sliced through my mom’s body,” The memory, vivid and horrifying, flashed before her eyes, the scent of iron still strong in her nostrils. “Dad came in. Same deal.” 

Across the table, Cate, who had been silent until now, spoke up, her voice laced with disbelief. “Fuck.” 

“Yeah,”she choked out, her gaze shifting to Cate.  “I’m the last person who thinks they’re a hero. I fucking hate myself half the time.”The anger rekindled in her, fueled by the fucking injustice of it all. She turned back to Jordan, her eyes blazing with defiance. “And I just spent the entire night being dragged around like a show pony, so I’m not in the mood for your shit.”

“Hey,” The tension that hummed between them seemed to soften slightly at Cate's gesture. With a hesitant glance at Jordan, Marie searched for any flicker of disapproval, any indication that this conversation wasn't welcome. But Jordan's deep brown eyes, usually sharp and observant, remained downcast, offering a silent permission. Taking a deep breath, Marie sighed and hiked up the red of her dress, its folds rustling as she lowered herself onto the chair next to Cate.

Cate leaned forward, her gaze sincere as she met Marie's. "I was nine," she began, her voice quiet yet carrying a weight that filled the space between them. “My parents were setting up the tent. My little brother kept kicking at my shins, so I grabbed him by the arm and I told him to go away and never come back.” 

A tremor ran through Cate's hands, the memory still raw beneath the surface. “So he did,” she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. “He just walked right into the woods.” Cate's eyes, filled with unshed tears, locked with Marie's. That was the first time my powers showed up,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know,”  

“Jesus.” Marie let out a gasp, the horror of the situation settling heavy in her stomach. 

“There was a… search party.” Her voice shook as she continued, “Dogs. You know? It went on for weeks. But… nothing.” Cate nodded, her brow furrowing with the memory's pain. “My mom never touched me again.” she pursed her lips. “Neither did my dad.”

Silence descended, thick with the weight of shared pain and unspoken understanding. Marie stammered, searching for the right words, “I had no idea. I’m so sorry,” 

“It is not your fault.” Cate's gaze held a firmness that chipped away at Marie. “Your parents shot you up with a dangerous drug when you were a baby to make a buck off you.” 

“No, my parents weren’t like that.” she whispered, the denial catching in her throat. 

“Yes, they were.” she countered, her voice laced with a controlled anger.  “They did this. You didn’t. Don’t spend a fucking minute crying over them.”  

Each word landed like a hammer blow, shattering the carefully constructed narrative Marie had clung to. Tears welled in her eyes, for once not for the parents she remembered, but for her innocence stolen, her trust betrayed.  

The silence stretched taut after Cate's revelation, heavy with the weight of their shared vulnerabilities. Then, from across the table, Jordan broke the stillness.

"I killed my grandpa with my powers," they said, their voice surprisingly quiet, devoid of their usual smirk.

Both Marie and Cate whipped their heads towards Jordan, concern and confusion etched on their faces. Cate spoke first, her voice laced with disbelief. “No you didn’t”

Jordan met Cate's gaze, their expression molding into a small smirk. “Yeah, I know. I was just feeling left out.”  

Cate rolled her eyes, but the gesture lacked its usual bite. Marie, however, surprised both of them. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the sound like the chiming of distant wind chimes.

Seeing Marie's smile, a genuine one that reached her eyes, Jordan couldn't help but feel a sliver of pride. They had intended to lighten the mood, to break the intensity with their usual sarcasm, but the raw emotions swirling between them had caught them off guard. Marie's laughter, unexpected and authentic, felt like a tiny crack in the heavy cloud that had descended upon them.

Marie sighed, draining the last drops of champagne from her glass. A small smile played on her lips as she looked at Cate and Jordan. “Gonna to head out now. Want to get some fresh air before Dean Shetty fucking needs me again.”  

Turning to leave, her eyes met Jordan's. A flicker of something unreadable flickered in their gaze before a smirk settled on their lips. Ignoring their scrutiny, Marie navigated the crowded hall, dodging outstretched hands and nagging questions with practiced smiles and polite "excuse me"s.

The cool night air washed over her as she slipped outside, rounding a corner and venturing further away from the gala's crowded noise. The music dimmed to a distant thrum, replaced by the hum of crickets and the gentle rustle of leaves. Leaning against a brick wall, she gazed skyward, the sky dotted with twinkling stars.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, relishing the quiet and letting the clamor of the evening fade. A sense of peace settled over her, only to be broken by a voice beside her.

“Feels nice out here,”  

Eyes still closed, Marie sighed. "Why did you follow me, Jordan?" she didn’t have to see them to know it was Jordan.

A hint of amusement tinged their chuckle. “I can’t get some fresh air too?”  Jordan leaned against the wall beside her, mimicking her pose.

A comfortable silence settled between them, a welcome energy from the chaos back inside. The only sounds were the crickets and the distant laughter from the gala, carried on the breeze. Marie sniffed, surprised by a sudden coughing fit. Opening her eyes, she saw Jordan nonchalantly smoking a cigarette, the faint scent of smoke curling around them.

Feeling her gaze, Jordan met her eyes. “What? Want a smoke?” they offered, flicking their cigarette pack open.

Marie laughed, shaking her head. "No thanks, I'm not a smoker."

They tossed the cigarette to the ground, extinguishing it with a decisive stomp. After a moment, Jordan spoke, their voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Confused, Marie turned to them. "Sorry? For what?"

Jordan hesitated, their gaze flitting to the ground before meeting Marie's with a newfound vulnerability. "About your parents," they mumbled, their voice barely above a whisper. "Didn't know."

The weight of their words hit Marie like a physical blow. She closed her eyes, a strangled sigh escaping her lips. "Of course you didn't," she whispered, the pain raw in her voice. "Never told you. Don’t worry about it."

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Jordan seemed genuinely conflicted, their brow furrowed in concern. "If it makes you feel better," they began, offering what seemed like an ill-fitting attempt at compassion, "I had to parade myself around like a slut to sponsors while drooled over you like fucking dogs."

Marie forced a smile, shaking her head gently. "It doesn't, but thanks anyway."

"You know," Marie began, her eyes locked on the distant city lights, "Dean Shetty told me to 'just smile' when I asked her what I needed to do at this gala. Was nervous as shit. Felt like great advice then, could just "pretend". But," she stopped, her voice catching, "I'm so fucking tired of smiling. Just... so tired of fucking pretending."

Her confession hung in the air, a stark contrast to the glittering facade of the gala they'd left behind. Jordan remained silent, their gaze searching hers, waiting to see if she would continue.

"Then don't" they offered simply, gaze locked on hers. "Don't smile, don't pretend. Just don't"

Suddenly, Jordan stepped closer, their deep brown eyes holding her gaze with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "Marie," they said, their voice soft yet firm. "I'm sorry."

Their eyes seemed to search hers, seeking forgiveness, understanding, something she wasn't sure she could give. But as Jordan leaned closer, their head tilted up in pleading, their lips hovering tantalizingly close, a tiny spark ignited within Marie.

A tiny flicker of connection, a recognition of shared pain buried beneath their carefully constructed facades. As their lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss, the apology hung in the air holding the promise of something more. Maybe understanding, maybe solace, maybe even the wary beginnings of something fucking genuine amidst the chaos surrounding them.

The kiss was brief, but it left a lingering heat on Marie's skin and a tremor in her heart. Pulling away, she met Jordan's gaze, her own eyes clouded with uncertainty. "It's okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The air crackled with unspoken questions and lingering desire. Stepping back, Marie met Jordan's gaze, searching for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But Jordan's expression held something different – vulnerability, a tentative hope reflected in their deep brown eyes.

"Is this...?" Jordan started, their voice uncharacteristically soft, almost hesitant. They gestured vaguely to themselves, the implication hanging heavy in the air. “Okay?”

Marie took a moment, processing the question, not understanding at first. With a quiet smile, Marie met Jordan halfway, offering a simple nod. Their lips met again, this time with a deeper understanding, a whispered acknowledgment of the vulnerability they’d shared. The tentative exploration of before turning into something richer, fueled by curiosity and a growing sense of familiarity. Marie’s hand moved up Jordan’s arm, fingers ghosting over the smooth skin, their touch sparking shivers beneath the fabric.

Jordan, emboldened by the silent permission, deepened the kiss, tilting their head to deepen the angle. Their kiss tasted like the night air, crisp and cool, but also laced with the sweetness of unspoken desires. It felt like a drug. It was fucking euphoric. A soft moan escaped Marie’s lips, a sound lost in the quiet hush of the night. It felt different, kissing them in this form, a shift in both perception and sensation that danced along the edges of her awareness. She was leaning down instead of up. They felt smaller in her arms. Yet at the same time, it still felt the same as last – the pull, the connection, the spark that flickered between them.

They pulled away slowly, breathless, foreheads resting together. The city lights below seemed impossibly distant, the gala they left behind easily forgotten. Only the quickened thud of their hearts filled the silence.

Jordan’s eyes, shimmering in the moonlight, held a question she didn’t need to ask. They knew she knew.

“Want to get outta here?” Jordan murmured, their voice husky with unspoken desires and unspoken promises. 

“Yes please.”

"How do you take this fucking dress off," Jordan groaned against her lips, fumbling with the straps of Marie's dress. Their laughter filled the room, mingling with the hushed anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

Marie giggled, her breath warm against Jordan's cheek. "There's a zipper Jordan" she whispered, her fingers deftly moving behind her back and slowly pulling down the zipper of her gown. 

As the dress finally slipped off Marie's shoulders, pooling at her feet, she stepped out of it gracefully, leaving her standing in nothing but her lace undergarments. Jordan's eyes devoured her hungrily, their desire palpable. With a flicker of mischief in their gaze, they slowly backed Marie towards the bed.

They sank onto the plush mattress, their lips never parting as they explored one another with a reckless abandon. Each touch was imprinted with a thousand whispered apologies and promises for a new beginning. The weight of their shared pain melted away with every caress, replaced by an intoxicating hunger to be consumed by each other. 

With a gentle pull, she broke away, a soft apology forming on her lips. "Wait," she murmured, her voice husky with the remnants of the kiss.

Jordan met her gaze, a question swirling in their deep brown eyes. Marie, her fingers nimble despite the passion lingering in her touch, began unraveling the intricate design of her hair, removing more than one hair tie as her locs were free from the intricate hairstyle. 

"Much better," she sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders with her hair cascading around her. Wrapping her hands around Jordan's neck, the gesture now felt more natural, intimate. She leaned back in, her lips curving into a playful smile. "Now," she whispered, her voice a breath against their skin, "where were we?"

Jordan's lips curled into a mischievous smile, mirroring Marie's playfulness. Their hands traveled slowly down her sides, tracing the contours of her body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Marie shivered, an electric jolt coursing through her veins.

With a sudden surge of desire, Jordan rolled them both over so that Marie straddled their hips. The air crackled around them as Marie gazed down at Jordan, their eyes filled with a hunger that matched her own.

She leaned in, capturing Jordan's lips with a newfound determination. Their kiss was fierce and passionate, a tangle of tongues and teeth that spoke volumes without uttering a word. Marie's fingers danced along the curves of Jordan's body, memorizing every dip and line as if this would be their first and last time together. 

But deep down, she hoped it wouldn't be. She'd blame her thoughts on the amount of alcohol she consumed tonight. But she was too focused on the sight in front of her.

Jordan quickly discarded their clothes haphazardly on their dorm room floor, kneeling over Marie in just their underwear. Their bob swayed as they leaned in to kiss Marie's neck, fingers curling around her bra straps pulling them down.

Marie gasped at the feel of Jordan's lips on her skin, and looked up at Jordan through heavy-lidded eyes. Their breath was hot against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. 

Jordan's eyes locked onto hers, their gaze intense and filled with desire. "God I–" they began, their voice hoarse with need. "I need you, Marie. I need this."

She hesitated only for a moment before nodding, her weakness for Jordan overpowering her reservations. They kissed again, more urgently this time, the passion and longing between them undeniable. As their lips met, Jordan's fingers deftly undid the clasp of Marie's bra, freeing her TITTIES TO THE COOL AIR. 

Marie arched her back slightly, her nipples pebbling immediately in reaction to the cool air. 

"So beautiful," Jordan murmured softly before leaning down to take one of Marie's nipples between their lips. 

Marie moaned, threading her fingers through Jordan's hair. Jordan's tongue was warm and wet against her nipple, flicking and exploring with expert precision. Marie could feel their breath against her skin, heating up the cool air and sending a shiver through her body. Her fingers tangled in their hair, pulling them closer as she yearned for more.  Jordan continued to tease her nipple with their tongue, their lips brushing against her skin in a intense dance.

Her resistance crumbled away like a brittle wall. She wanted this, needed it. Needed the comfort, the passion, the connection that Jordan was offering. She wound her arms around Jordan's neck, pulling them closer, deepening the kiss.

She could feel the other woman's body trembling over her, matching her every move.

"Jordan," she breathed, gasping for air as their lips parted.

Their bodies melded together in passion, a feverish dance of tongues and skin. Jordan's hands traced the curve of Marie's back, moving lower until they reached the waistband of her underwear. With a quick tug, they were stripped away, leaving her completely exposed. 

Marie's breath caught in her throat as Jordan's fingers glided over her skin down there, tracing the contours of her thighs. She could feel the heat radiating from the other woman's touch, and the desire simmering beneath the surface.

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, they were lost in the hunger that danced between them. Jordan leaned up to give Marie a kiss again before their eyes finally locked on Marie's wetness. 

"Fuck," Jordan began tracing their fingers on her clit. "Can't wait to have this again," they muttered in a hushed voice, their eyes never leaving hers.

Marie shook her head, her eyes filling with tears as she gazed into Jordan's depths. "Please," she whispered back, her voice quivering. "Please, Jordan." 

Marie gasped in delight, feeling a finger slowly push into her warm, slick depths. Jordan's intense gaze locked onto Marie's, their fingers slowly dipping into her slick depth, moving in and out with a mesmerizing rhythm. Drops of sweat glistened on their skin, catching the dim light from the bedside lamp.

Jordan continued to move their fingers inside her, matching the rhythm of her moans with each thrust. Their breaths became increasingly heavier as they found themselves lost in the moment.

Jordan's lips traveled down Marie's neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses and nips before reaching her collarbone. They sucked on the sensitive spot, eliciting a gasp from Marie's lips.

"You're so beautiful," Jordan whispered against her skin, their fingers never ceasing their movements inside of her.

Marie closed her eyes, feeling the pleasure building up inside her. She wrapped her arms around Jordan's neck, pulling their lips closer for another passionate kiss. Their tongues danced together, mingling with the taste of the champagne they had earlier drank, as if cementing their souls together.

She arched her back as Jordan added a third finger, stretching and filling her in ways she had never experienced before. Her hips began to move in time with their thrusts, seeking more of that incredible sensation.

"Please," she begged, not knowing exactly what she was asking for but needing more of it nonetheless.

Jordan gave an understanding nod before leaning down to capture one of Marie's nipples between their lips again. Their free hand trailed down Marie's body until it reached the bundle of nerves between her legs. They began to rub slow circles over it with their thumb while keeping up the steady rhythm with their other hand.

Marie's back arched off the bed as pleasure coursed through every inch of her body. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to release with each passing second.

"Fuck," Jordan muttered, watching intently as Marie writhed beneath them. "Come baby,"

And with those words, it all became too much for Marie to handle. She exploded into oblivion, every muscle in her body tensing and releasing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her.

"Jordan," she cried out, grasping onto them tightly as she rode out the waves of pleasure.

For several moments, they simply laid there, catching their breaths and basking in the aftermath of their passion with Jordan watching her from above. Finally, Jordan pulled their fingers out before bringing them to their lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied smirk.

"You taste so good," they murmured, dragging the tips of their wet fingers slowly across Marie's lips. "Need to feel you," they sighed, moving their hands down to spread Marie's thighs wide open when she began to subconsciously close them. 

They lined their own pussy over Marie's own dripping one, their lips parting for a brief moment as they locked eyes again. Their desire was palpable, the electric connection between them thrumming hard..

In one swift movement, Jordan sliding their wetness over Marie's own, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her entire body. Her back arched, her fingers digging into Jordan's hips as her inner muscles tightened around Jordan.

"God, yes," she moaned into the air, their bodies swaying rhythmically, pulsing together. Marie bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest in desire. She felt their clit grinding against her own, pleasure surging through her. Jordan's lips found Marie's, their tongues twining together in a passionate embrace. The sounds of their bodies, wet and slick, mingled with the gasps of pleasure that escaped their lips. Their hips moved in sync, matching the rhythm of their hearts, and the tempo grew faster, more intense.

"Look so pretty spread open for me," Jordan whispered, their voice thick with lust.

"Fuck," Marie hissed, feeling herself losing herself in the sensations. She moaned into Jordan's mouth as their bodies collided, their pelvises grinding together with a wet slap. The pressure built inside her, the surge of pleasure overwhelming her body. "You feel good?"

Marie could only nod in response, her mind hazy with the overwhelming sensation of Jordan's body pressed against hers. She felt the wetness growing on her inner thighs as their bodies collided, and the air was thick with the smell of sex and sweat.

Jordan's breathing was heavy now, their chest rising and falling rapidly as their hips moved. "Good," they grunted. Their thrusts were getting sloppy now "Cause you feel so good Marie, you feel so fucking good," they groaned, their voice hoarse with need.

She reached up, her fingers tangling in Jordan's hair, pulling their lips down to hers for another searing kiss. Their tongues danced together, and Marie felt a surge of desire wash over her. She wanted this more than anything, wanted to be closer to Jordan, even as her body trembled with need and desire.

Their pace quickened, their hips moving faster and harder, their bodies slapping together now. Sweat dripped down Jordan's forehead as they moved fast. Jordan's breaths came in short gasps, her eyes locked onto Marie's, her grip on the other woman's hips tightening with each thrust.

"Feel amazing," she moaned, her voice thick with desire. Marie's moans echoed in the room, her body arching up to meet each of Jordan's thrusts. She could feel her own orgasm building, the tension in her muscles growing with each passing moment.

"Fuck, I'm so close," she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

Jordan's eyes widened, the sight of Marie's pleasure pushing her closer to peak. She quickened her pace, their hips slapping wetly against each other.

"Come for me, Marie," she urged, moving one of her hands in between their bodies to rub against Marie's clit. "Let go."

"Oh, fuck," Marie cried, her body trembling as the most intense orgasm of her life washed over her. Her muscles clenched around Jordan, her nails digging into the other woman's skin as she rode the waves of pleasure.

Jordan's own orgasm was just moments away, the visceral sight of Marie's pleasure almost sending her over the edge. She thrust harder, their bodies moving in perfect sync until she was crying out too, her own release shaking her to her very core.

They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies still entwined, both of them panting heavily as they tried to catch their breath. Their chests heaved with every breath, their bodies slick with sweat and desire.

"That was..." Marie began, her voice hoarse from her orgasm. She trailed off, feeling their steady heartbeat on top of her. 

"Jordan?" she looked up to see that they somehow managed to fall fast asleep on top of her, soft snores leaving their mouth.

Marie smiled a bit, not having the heart to push them off her. 

I'll deal with it in the morning.

didn't expect this to be a four parter but love the ideas swirling in my mind. the last two (technically last one) should be done by or before Friday. can find this on my ao3 here

Besitos!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

David Rowe, Australia Financial Review

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 27, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 28, 2024

Sam Stein of The Bulwark reported yesterday that the Trump campaign is about to start running ads in the area around Mar-a-Lago. Trump insiders say the campaign has paid almost $50,000 to run ads to make Trump and local donors feel good. On August 14, Kevin Cate, former spokesperson for President Barack Obama, predicted that Trump would spend his first television dollars “in Florida (for his ego and against his team’s advice). And that’s how you’ll know we’re in landslide territory.” 

Predictions about future elections and an average of $3.08 will get you a cup of coffee these days, but there are some interesting signs out there today. Pollster Tom Bonier noted what he called “the Harris Effect”: the 13 states that have updated their voters files since July 21—when Biden said he would not accept the Democratic nomination for president—have seen “incredible surges in voter registration relative to the same time period in 2020, driven by women, voters of color, and young voters.”

The registrations of young Black women have almost tripled compared with the same period in 2020. The registrations of young Hispanic women are up by 150%. “Black women overall have almost doubled their registration numbers from 2020,” Bonier wrote. 

These changes benefit Democrats, Bonier noted. “Democratic registration has increased by over 50%, as compared to only 7% for Republicans. These new registrants are modeled as +20 pts Dem, as compared to +6 during the same week in 2020.”

The Cook Political Report today moved the electoral votes of Minnesota, New Hampshire, and North Carolina, and the governor's races in North Carolina and Washington, toward the Democrats. Minnesota, New Hampshire, and the Washington governor have gone from leaning Democratic to likely Democratic wins; the North Carolina governor’s race has gone from Toss Up to Lean Democratic; North Carolina has gone from Lean Republican to Toss Up. 

Meanwhile, Trump began the day by posting an advertisement for the fourth “series of Trump digital trading cards,” or NFTs (which are unique digital tokens) featuring heroic images of Trump. People who buy 15 or more of them—at $99 apiece—get a physical trading card as well. Trump said that the physical card has a piece of the suit he wore at the presidential debate, and Trump promises to sign five of them, randomly. Up to 25 people who buy $25,750 worth of the cards with cryptocurrency will be invited to a gala next month at his Jupiter, Florida, golf club.

In the ad, Trump made it a point to emphasize his enthusiasm for cryptocurrency, an emphasis that dovetails with Trump’s recent promotion of an “official” cryptocurrency project. He linked to a Telegram channel run by his sons Don Jr. and Eric that, at the time, was called “The DeFiant Ones” but has been renamed “World Liberty Financial.” While there is little public information about the project, the channel has almost 50,000 subscribers.  

Hawking merchandise was an odd move for a presidential candidate, and it suggested his focus is elsewhere than on the election. Also today, Trump announced that he plans to make former Democrats Robert Kennedy Jr. and Tulsi Gabbard, both of whom have endorsed him, honorary members of his transition team. Kennedy told right-wing personality Tucker Carlson that he would “help pick the people who will be running the government.” 

This afternoon, Trump announced that the terms for the September 10 presidential debate had been set, but the fact it came from him alone suggested he was trying to get his way by simply declaring he had won. Indeed, the Harris campaign said the issue hadn’t been settled, and ABC News, which is holding the debate, did not comment. 

Late this afternoon, special counsel Jack Smith filed a superseding indictment against Trump in the federal criminal case concerning Trump’s attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election. After the Supreme Court decided on July 1, 2024, in the aptly-named case of Donald J. Trump v. United States, that Trump cannot be charged with crimes committed as part of his official duties, the criminal case Smith had filed against him for his attempt to steal the election had to be reworked to eliminate those actions the court deemed official. 

A new grand jury heard the evidence for this indictment, avoiding concerns that the previous grand jury might be swayed by evidence that they had heard before but was no longer admissible. The new indictment removes those matters but retains the four original charges and clarifies that they concern actions that are not official duties. Legal analyst Joyce White Vance of Civil Discourse notes that while the old indictment referred to Trump as a former president, this one refers to him as “a candidate for president.” 

Trump greeted the announcement with a long, unhinged rant on his social media company, saying that “[t]he people of our country will see what is happening with all of these corrupt lawsuits against me, and will REJECT them by giving me an overwhelming Victory on November 5th for President of the United States….”

“For those counting,” legal analyst Andrew Weismann wrote, “FIVE separate grand juries (scores of citizens) have now found probable cause that Trump committed multiple felonies.” 

And then, this evening, Quil Lawrence and Tom Bowman of NPR explained the story behind the surprising photos of Trump on Monday giving a thumbs-up over a grave in Arlington National Cemetery. The reporters wrote that “[t]wo members of Donald Trump's campaign staff had a verbal and physical altercation Monday with an official” at the cemetery, where “[f]ederal law prohibits political campaign or election-related activities.” When a cemetery official tried to prevent Trump campaign staff from entering the section where the grave was located, “campaign staff verbally abused and pushed the official aside.” A Trump campaign spokesperson said the official who tried to prevent the staff from holding a political event in the cemetery was “clearly suffering from a mental health episode.” 

The elephant in the room these days is that most Republicans, along with many pundits, are pretending that Trump is a normal presidential candidate. They are ignoring his mental lapses, calls for authoritarianism, grifting, lack of grasp on any sort of policy, and criminality, even as he has hollowed out the once grand Republican Party and threatens American democracy itself.

It’s hard to look away from the reality that the Republican senators could have stopped this catastrophe at many points in Trump’s term, at the very least by voting to convict Trump at his first impeachment trial. At the time, Senator Ted Cruz (R-TX) said, “Out of one hundred senators, you have zero who believe you that there was no quid pro quo. None. There’s not a single one.” Republican senators nonetheless stood behind Trump. “This is not about this president. It’s not about anything he’s been accused of doing,” then–majority leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) told his colleagues. “It has always been about November 3, 2020. It’s about flipping the Senate.”

When the Framers wrote the Constitution, they did not foresee senators abandoning the principles of the country in order to support a president they thought would enhance their own careers. Assuming that lawmakers would jealously guard their own power, the Framers gave to the members of the House of Representatives the power to impeach a president. To the members of the Senate they gave the sole power to try impeachments. They assumed that lawmakers, who had just fought a war to break free of a monarch, would understand that their own interests would always require stopping the rise of an authoritarian leader. 

But the Framers did not foresee the rise of political partisanship. 

In the modern era, extreme partisanship has led to voter suppression to keep Republicans in power, the weaponization of the filibuster to stop Democratic legislation, and gerrymandering to enable Republicans to take far more legislative seats than they have earned. The demands of this extreme partisanship also mean that members of one of the nation’s major political parties have lined up behind a man whom, were he running this sort of a campaign even ten years ago, they would have dismissed with derision. 

Finally, devastatingly, the partisanship that made senators keep Trump in office enabled him to name to the Supreme Court three justices. Those three justices were key to making up the majority that overturned the nation’s fundamental principle that all people must be equal before the law. In July 2024 they ruled that unlike anyone else, a president is above it.  

In May 2016, South Carolina Republican senator Lindsey Graham famously observed: “If we nominate Trump, we will get destroyed.......and we will deserve it.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

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richardcarmitage @nftsfilmtv @sonypicturesuk Thank you for a wonderful gala evening in support of the NFTS. Thank you to Wayne Garvie for a seat at Sony’s table. I hope we raised a lot of money and thank you @hawesandcurtisglobal for the tux (x)

[ju1ian]

I posted 2,023 times in 2022

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#5

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#4

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48 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

#3

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64 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

#2

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67 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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86 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

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[cryptoroadmap247]

GALA Coin Big Price Prediction 2024 | Gala Coin News Today | GALA Withdr...

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Pixel Power: Revolutionizing Online Fundraising with Digital Ingenuity

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Trump's 4th NFT collection sees $2.2M in sales

United States presidential candidate Donald Trump’s latest non-fungible token collection generated over $2.2 million in sales only a few days after its release.  On Aug. 27, Trump launched a new NFT trading card collection called America First, offering buyers a chance to have a gala dinner with the former US president. As of Aug. 29, Polygonscan data shows the collection had 22,360 mints and…