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thirdtidemouse · 4 months

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(In response to your losing your rant post.) If you ever get up to or feel like ranting about the art stuff and Kaisa’s interests in that again, I’d be very glad and also interested to read it. :) Art theory is great.

aww im thrilled someone is interested!!! i will have a go at rewriting some of it. just for you anon. i might do one about johanna, who's more inclined to illustration - like i said in previous posts kaisa is more anologue photography/fine art, and i embarrassingly don't actually know many photographers, but i have some more conceptual artists she would enjoy too.

long rant with pictures below, about artists, which you should totally read even if its boring because i would be soo happy (just kidding):

starting off with photography though:

Man Ray. these are 'rayographs', a cameraless photography technique, now more well known as photograms.

photography without cameras?!?! crazy!!!! Man Ray pretty much pioneered this technique into modern popularity with his much more surreal style, after William Fox Talbot was printing pieces of flora in the 19th century. photograms happen when you take an unexposed piece of photography paper, place objects on it in a darkroom, and quickly flash it with light. once developed, the shadows of the objects will be left white, and the exposed parts of the paper will turn black, leaving these beautiful imprints behind.

kaisa absolutely loves the darkroom, the more hands-on the technique the better (she might smell like chemicals). photograms work best with translucent objects. rubber gloves, strips of film, marbles, lightbulbs. as much as she loves black-and-white, these totally magical photograms by photographer Anne Hardy definitely would inspire her. i hope you can imagine some of the stuff she comes up with. it literally looks like magic.

if you haven't checked out @/hilda-the-librarians-wife 's hospital au, then first of all please do, but second of all can anyone else see the parallel with this artwork and pathologist dr kaisa underhill?!? these look microscopic, or like deep-sea fauna. this feeling of a glimpse into another world, which is something wife mentioned about cells and microscopy, is what i think kaisa would be fascinated by.

i'll mention some older art before i move onto installations - i dont know a whole lot about art history this far back, but i'm sure plenty of people will recognise Francisco Goya, so i have to quickly mention him. long painting below:

also known as the guy that did saturn devouring his son, goya's 'black paintings' (many of which were painted directly onto the walls of his home) bring that heavy nightmarish feeling that i think that moody moody bitch would love. i love goya's dog, the first painting. it is very imposing. and look at those depictions of witches - a little on the nose, but those dark, crowded scenes are just so much to take in!

now onto another quite macabre artist, Louise Bourgeois. you might again recognise her stuff - her spider installation, named Maman, went a bit viral at one point i think. the spiders were not a one-off thing and they crop up a lot as symbolism for, alongside other things, mothers and maternity. for context, she was born to antique tapestry repairers, and a lot of her work reflects on her childhood. these spiders, both threatening predators and industrious repairers, sometimes guarding hoards of eggs, give way to these ideas of maternal care and mending/weaving. her work carries themes of family, motherhood, abandonment, and fertility.

she describes these structures pictured above as 'cells'. a lot of her work is in cages. i really like the room made of doors, ghostly clothing hung up on cow bones barely blocking the view in. look at the tiny bed atop the tiny spiral staircase. it does a great job of making you think about who might sleep there.

i think kaisa, having a relatively lonely upbringing and complicated family, would both connect with Bourgeois' work and appreciate the unsettling nature of it ^_^

one last installation artist, because i'm a sucker for an immersive experience. this ones a doozy, probably a long one - Mike Nelson. i'm including him because of all the exhibitions i've visited, his Extinction Beckons genuinely scared me. not in some deep existential way, i was just truly unsettled. his stuff isn't nearly as dark or spooky as Bourgeois or Goya, but the way you are totally dunked headfirst into his imaginary parallel worlds really puts you off balance. and by god i think kaisa would love that.

i will describe to you, if you are at all bothered, some of the features of that exhibition!

the first i'll say is longer, the deliverance and the patience.

if you can imagine a large gallery room, please then imagine a set of constructed rooms within it, like a big box with an entrance and an exit. when you enter, the door shuts behind you; the ambience is literal nonstop creaking of doors and floorboards, from the other visitors wandering the structure out of your sight, interspliced with the humming of electric fans. the room you are in feels like the no-turning-back point. the next door invites you in.

this is where the atmosphere sets in for good. this is what you are greeted with, as you walk in from the door on the right hand side of the picture:

maybe i'm just a big baby, but i jumped. i think it was the gargantuan shadow on the wall, from the single lightbulb on the light fitting - it was definitely a figure, arms raised. this is an ugly ass room. the claustrophobic paint colours, doors either side of you, and nonspecific shrine on the far wall, all make for quite an uncomfortable feeling. you're in, and you have to push on. no one inhabits these rooms, all of the people present are visitors, and you expect none of them - despite the noise, it feels like you're alone, as if the only other humans in the building might be scare actors in a haunted house.

each door is a guess and each room is different. this one is a waiting room, without patrons, yellow wallpaper and advertisements; this one is the entrance to a seedy club, smudged mirrors and posters; this one is empty; this one is the captain's bar on an old ship, windowless like the rest of them; this one is empty; this one is empty. whose sleeping bag is this? whose are these cigarette butts? who will turn off the bare lightbulbs when we leave? there are large chunks missing from the drywall in the corridor. there is no one around the corner. the door handle is a shotgun, bolted vertically against the wood.

everything here is so old, like a domestic museum; there is writing everywhere. most of it is in a language you can't read.

the deliverance and the patience dunks your head into a different world, one without people, and then pulls you back out the moment you step out the peeling wooden door of the exit, leaving you feeling like you've invaded someone else's domain.

here's some more:

i, imposter (the darkroom) - in this picture above, you can walk into that tunnel! when we visited, my brother made the apt comparison of a slaughterhouse - animals are sometimes herded through curved corridors to prevent them from panicking when seeing the full road ahead. the door at the end is unlocked, but shut, and heavy - when you crack it open, the deep red light that emits from the room inside is less than reassuring. it's a darkroom - only red safety lights are lit, it's all factory-like with sinks and paper hung up to dry. it doesn't feel unlike a secret lair.

i am going to go to bed, and i don't have the energy to fully go into the amnesiacs - they are a fictional biker gang of Nelson's, made up of gulf war veterans, each having chunks of their memory lost to PTSD. he shows us their belongings, their home, their 'hide', their mindscapes, all through found object sculptures, in typical Mike Nelson fashion. they are more like approximations - a motorbike's handlebars are a pair of horns. more importantly, like any other work of his, they are infused with memory. this constant presence of someone, sometimes the artist, usually the character, sometimes the people who owned these objects before him.

back to kaisa, this is what i think she would be drawn to in his art. this total immersive experience, this otherworldly material. in this au, i think she loves art that is: transportative, textural, moody, surreal, unsettling, nostalgic, immersive.

i might do johanna if i have the energy. if you genuinely read to the end, i dont believe you!! thank you so much!! i'm sorry i went on for so long! i am a freak nerd about this! i'm sorry if you hate conceptual art. i hope i have convinced you to hate it less? i love you. if you have any ideas/corrections/anything at all send me a message or a comment or an ask. have a great day!!

#kaisa #hilda the series #hilda netflix #art school au #au #ask

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thesinglesjukebox · 4 months

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DLALA THUKZIN, ZABA & SYKES - "IPLAN"

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Amapiano is probably our most consistently high-scoring genre. Joshua Kim explains how it's evolving...

[8.25]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The greatest musical development in South Africa this year was 3-step, a style of house music coined by Thakzin that bridges AfroTech and amapiano. He isn't the first to have made songs in this zone (the earliest I've found is Prince Kaybee & Nokwazi's "Ebabayo" from 2021), but he did produce numerous tracks that made him its current poster boy. The genre's most clear, defining feature is the presence of a kick drum on the 1, 3, and 4 of a measure (and less commonly the 1, 2, and 3), which grants each song a more rigid foundation than the typical amapiano track. It's a perfect fit for Dlala Thukzin's "iPlan" and its hopeful lyrics. Zaba sings about not having money or a job, and his voice weaves in and out of the song, like the still-small voice inside your head that tells you to stay calm. And really, it's only fitting that "iPlan" functions as an EDM song without an all-consuming drop; what arrives instead is steady, comforting relief. Its clanging percussion has felt like a multitude of metaphors to me: the pounding beat of your heart, a sign that you're still alive; the sound of repetitive toil, like the promise of something coming from all your hard work; even a desire for reprieve amid life's constant suffering. Here is a song that acts as an invitation to grieve and to celebrate. The beat keeps going, and as I look back on another year, this serves as a nice reminder that somehow, miraculously, I'm still here too. [10]

Micha Cavaseno: I hit a place of personal burnout somewhere in the mid 2010s with the different regional dance scenes of the world made available for all of us by the internet breaking down geographic restriction. Part of it was the fast & loose fashion mentality that made sub-genres go from underrated to overrated within a span of mere weeks, and how any artist could go from essential to disposable before you'd truly had a chance to digest it. To this day, plenty of lingering questions haunt me: did I "miss out" when bubblin' was a thing (maybe)? Was Zomby right to get banned from a message board because people thought bassline and niche were the same (yes)? Did Resident Advisor's coverage specifically get worse when they eliminated the comment section and thus prevented proangelwings from lighting their ass up all the time for pedestrian summaries (no, but it didn't help)? Now I look at an artist like Dlala Thukzin and sigh that I can't in any good faith claim to have a real comprehension of the differences between gqom, afriampo, afrotech, kuduro, kwaito, so on and such... Though I know that it's there, and I need it in order to know what makes a song like this particularly good beyond how muscular yet gentle it is. It's great to admire something for spectacle, but I would like to know the brilliance (or even the clunkiness) of form one day. [8]

Ian Mathers: There's a pleasing graininess to some of the synths here that remind me of other amapiano I've heard, but I'm less familiar (but still taken) by the stiff percussion that sometimes sounds like it's slightly phasing in and out. Both play off the high, sometimes keening vocals very well. The end result is both propulsive and, especially on headphones, subtly disorienting - it can make your head feel like it's swirling. And I haven't even tried listening to it baked yet! [8]

Kat Stevens: Like finding a couple of ibuprofen in the drawer when you were looking for codeine: grateful they exist but missing that extra oomph. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: In isolation, this is a bit too muted for a desensitized tension-enjoyer like me to be drawn to. I'd probably love it in the right DJ set. [7]

Michelle Myers: Romanticized melancholy works beautifully in dance music. I want to cry in a club to this. [9]

David Moore: Just when I start to have a handle on some of the formal characteristics of South African dance music, it evolves again into 3-step. Thakzin describes adapting his AfroTech sound, broadly popular with international audiences, to South African audiences during the amapiano zeitgeist and hitting on a novel formula that involves a three-beat pattern. Anyway, that's as best as I can understand or describe it. Dlala Thukzin -- not to be confused with Thakzin (as the interviewer in the clip above jokes, but you should absolutely listen to Thakzin, too) -- created a wildly popular take on this sound, which ruled the South African charts for months starting in September. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: Zaba was hijacked, injured one of the robbers and escaped with his hand stabbed in June of this year. 3 months later this song goes number 1 on the Official South African Charts. Somebody was praying for that fool. [10]

Will Adams: Over the course of my dilettantish experience with amapiano, I've come to expect a few qualities: a) impossibly gorgeous; b) a luxurious slow build that carries the risk of; c) never fully reaching a destination. "iPlan" possesses all three, but has a bit more of Column C than usual, which keeps it at a mild distance. The low-mixed vocals might be to blame. [6]

Brad Shoup: I love how pensive this is, how Dlala Thukzin submerges the vocals until they're barely visible from the surface. It resists any easy soar the whole way through: a fantastic transition track, I'd imagine. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Less a song, more a full night on the dancefloor compressed into six minutes -- some artists' entire careers have fewer moments of transcendental jubilation than "iPlan." There's this tea kettle noise that Dlala Thukzin works in the second time Zaba & Sykes go through that chorus that feels like ascension -- and then the song keeps going for three more minutes! [9]

Frank Kogan: Halfway through a People's Pop Poll, when we've finally gotten through the quallies and into Round One, Tom will grab a sentence from every track's YouTube comments and tweet out four of them at a time, one for each track in a heat. Often he'll find comments that are hilariously obtuse, though sometimes they're poignant and evocative. Anyhow, for Emma Bunton's "Free Me" (you probably knew Emma as "Baby Spice") the YouTube comment that Tom lifted was, "It's very soothing and edgy." I stared at this for a minute's worth of nervous self-recognition and then tweeted back, "'It's very soothing and edgy' are what half my reviews come down to." So "iPlan" is cutting up beats in a way that pushes beyond amapiano but is also digging back into late '10s gqom, which is edgier and more driving and more gripping hence more soothing than amapiano, so's the same 90% overlap you get in amapiano's typical soothing-edgy Venn Diagram, but with a bigger circle. Is about dogged determination, is about gliding dance moves across shards of glass, dark beauty, sharp beats. [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#dlala thukzin #zaba #sykes #music #amapiano #south african music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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semper-legens · 1 year

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8. Crumbs, by Danie Stirling

Owned: No, library Page count: 383 My summary: Ray has a favourite order at her local bakery - tea with a side of Romance. When she catches the eye of Laurie, the musician-turned-barista behind the bar, there’s a spark between them instantly. But it’s never that simple when magic is on the cards. Ray is a seer, aiming for a job on the Council; the Council who must erase themselves from the memories of anyone they used to know. And Laurie wants to get serious with his music. Will they be able to make it work, or is love not possible for someone with ambitions? My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

Well, this was absolutely delightful. I picked this up from the graphic novels section at work, but apparently it’s an adaption of a webtoon, which you can read here! I was very much enamoured with it, I read it all in one sitting on the bus on the way home the other day, and it was so hard to extricate myself from its world to actually, you know, get home. The art is really nice, it’s soft and round and bright and evocative in all the right ways, and its themes and ideas hit hard for me. I really like it, and if anything in this post sounds good to you, click the link above to read it for yourself!

So this one sort of hit me straight in the insecurities, and the way it managed that is with Laurie. He’s a sweet kid, but he tries to be all things to all people at all times and that ends up backfiring on his relationships. He treats everyone like they’re the most important person in the universe, at the cost of his own wellbeing and mental health. Which...is something I also have a problem with, sometimes. Seeing it reflected back to me wasn’t necessarily what I was expecting, but it was good, and very well-handled. Poor Laurie. He just needs a bunch of magical therapy.

Which leads me onto the other way this comic hit me straight in the feelings, and that’s the overall theme of achieving your dreams, and finding out that those dreams aren’t exactly how you imagined. Ray wants to be on the Council, but in her normal life she can’t remember anything she did inside, just a vague feeling of dissatisfaction. She knows she’s powerful, she knows her skills and talent will basically guarantee her a place, but she isn’t sure if this really is something she wants - especially because her unique talent as a seer of the present isn’t what she wants to do, she wants to see the future. Laurie, too, finds his dreams of being a musician aren’t actually that great in reality, being rejected from auditions and finding that people devalue his work. Reality sucks, but I like seeing them both reconcile with that fact and managing not just to get what they wanted, but to shape their dreams and ambitions into something they actually want, as opposed to something they think they want, or something they think other people want for them.

The worldbuilding for this comic is amazing. I really like worldbuilding that doesn’t rely on dumps of exposition, more like weaving a tapestry of worldbuilding elements and ideas, dropping them into the narrative without necessarily sitting down to explain them. I’ve said so many times that I love this style of worldbuilding, it somehow manages to make the world feel that much bigger, and keeps the narrow focus on our protagonists and their specific place in the world, as opposed to the world in general. I like it!

Next up, a man trapped in a labyrinth, and the secrets that dog his footsteps.

#Crumbs #Danie Stirling #bookblr #book blog #book blogging #4

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thetwirlingtimemachine · 1 year

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Book Review!

Throughout my time spent trying to find a book about baton twirling in the library I finally found one! It was very hard but I made it happen. I found “Baton Twirling” by Nancy L. Robison. This book discusses the history of baton twirling, types of batons, and the various events for baton twirlers. She even goes far enough to explain how to do basic skills. In this review I will mainly focus on her teachings of the basic skills. Before we start, let's get some background knowledge on the author. Nancy Robison was a baton twirler so we know that she has first hand knowledge.

The first twirl she explains is “Pancake” or “Horizontal Twirl”. Robison says, “Extend your arm out to the side and hold the staff in the center with the head facing away from you.” In this case she is calling the baton a staff and big end or tip the head. She then says, “Move the baton forward with the head passing over the top of your arm, the tip will be on the bottom.” You can do this skill in either hand going both clockwise and counterclockwise. “Turn your wrist around, weaving the baton over your arm and under your arm.” When doing this skill you should always hold the baton in the center.

Now we will be talking about “Fish Tails”. Fish Tails is more of an intermediate skill, this is a type of roll. Rolls can be more difficult and can take more time to learn and perfect. Robison says, “Begin the Fish Tail in much the same way as the Hand Roll…” The Hand Roll starts by grabbing the baton in the middle and letting it roll over the back of your hand. From the hand roll you want to Wrist Flip. “… instead of a grab and roll motion, leave the baton to balance on the back of the hand as you make a fishtail type of movement with your hand.” She then says, “The baton will balance on the back of your hand and appear to be going around your wrist.”

Now we will be covering the “Figure Eight”. According to Robison, “The Figure Eight is just like its name.” The baton makes an “eight motion”, some athletes call this ice cream scoops. You would think of it as scooping into vanilla ice cream on one side and chocolate ice cream on the other. She then goes to say, “The head leads down in a deep arc from right to left, then it swings high across and in front of the left shoulder. Now the wrist turns over and the head or ball leads down in another long arc across the body, down and away on the right side. Turning the wrist over, the head comes back up to the starting position…”

Lastly, I will talk about the “Salute”. Although Salute isn't a trick or skill it is still very important to know. Robison states, “The Salute is a very important part of baton twirling. It is used many times; when the National Anthem is played, when beginning or ending a routine, or in a contest or exhibition and before accepting an award.” The Salute is mostly used in NBTA style twirling today. She says, “The baton should be held at the carry position. Right arm extended forward, elbow slightly bent, hand held at belt level and palm up. The baton is rested on the forearm, tip extended past the elbow.” When Saluting you always want to make sure the “big” end or “head” is facing up towards the ceiling.

I only touched on a few of her explanations, but if you are interested I would recommend checking out her book. Coming from a baton twirler myself I feel as she did a great job explaining step by step how to do the skills. I hope you learned some basic baton twirling skills from this and if so you might have just found yourself a new sport!

#baton twirling

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deliciouskoalaphantom · 2 years

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Wedding Photographer Leiceste

Wedding Preparation

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You have actually chosen a date. Excellent thing, too, because there are actually a thousand things to set up prior to the huge day. You do the research, buckle under and dive in. However you find your fianc?'s ardor for the event itself appears to have cooled. It's not that he isn't mad about marrying you; after all, he is an excellent guy, even if he can't inform a Vera Wang from a Gunny Sack. It's that his preparation style is hands-off, to state the least. And planning a wedding event isn't a task built for one. What to do? Here are ten ways to involve him without increasing both of your tension loads: 1) Delegate areas that have a prayer of interesting him. The worst thing you can do is expect him to match your ten to twenty years of feminine wisdom on the relative merits of buttercream vs. fondant. Here are some likely no areas when roping in a reluctant wedding event planner: Selecting the cake frosting Selecting the favors or favor product packaging Selecting the wedding event colours or flower plans Then there are the potential maybes, stuffed with fewer risks: Selecting the professional photographer Selecting the videographer Setting up the rehearsal dinner Setting up the complete honeymoon Leasing huge, tricky items like outdoor camping tents These are likely yeses, well worth running by your guy: Selecting the DJ or the band Setting up and keeping your wedding event website Researching and selecting charities, if you choose to contribute instead of giving out favors Setting up the carriage, limousine or other transportation plans

2) If you ask him to assist you choose designs and vendors, narrow down the choices. It's a jungle of alternatives out there, enough to offer the most natural-born party planner pause. So if you want his viewpoint on professional photographers, welcomes, flowers or cakes, narrow down the alternatives to three or four. He's less likely to feel overwhelmed, and more likely to seem like a fundamental part of the procedure. At times, it'll feel so great to share the load that you'll be tempted to drag him into the buttercream dispute regardless of your better impulses. At these times, take a deep breath, count to ten, and call your mother or your house maid of honor. 3) Ask him straight for aid. Let him understand how crucial his input is to you, which you can't do it without him. People like to be needed. Your frank request for help may suffice to pull him out of his comfort zone and onto your team. 4) Attempt the Art Director/Production Staff method. If you think your guy wishes to assist, however feels unpleasant playing "art director," offer him "production personnel" jobs. Have him make the payments, get the food or decoration, manage the rentals, do online comparison shopping, or reserve the hotels and reception halls. These are all tasks that will take a load off your shoulders, while freeing up time for the aesthetic stuff you probably enjoy and he doesn't. 5) Get a calendar and put all the planning in black and white. Your fianc? probably doesn't have the very first clue in what enters into a wedding event. Get your wedding event planner, write everything down, and reveal him. You'll both probably be able to recognize areas that interest him when he gets over the shock. Make lists of the things you have actually each agreed to do, and cross them off as they get done. At the minimum, he'll be far more encouraging when he sees what you're going through. 6) Weave his family heritage/ethnicity/traditions into the ceremony. What did his parents do? He might be amazed at the concern, however it could lead somewhere important. He might ask his parents about their wedding event, and find your wedding event subsequently enriched. Check out their wedding event album together. Are his forefathers German, Polish, Italian, Croatian, Asian? Include some old-world customs into your ceremony. 7) Do not bring him in too early. Treat your fianc? as a bit of a pinch hitter. If he's like many men, the wedding event won't become genuine to him until it draws more detailed. 8) Discuss something besides the wedding event. People aren't the only ones who grumble about brides-to-be talking of nothing but upcoming nuptials. Often, even sweethearts get overwhelmed by all the wedding event chatter. Spend some time alone chatting about anything however the wedding event. See a silly motion picture, divided a hot fudge sundae, or enjoy a basketball video game. Do something spontaneous that reminds you both of why you chose to marry in the first place. 9) Inspect your subtext for surprise meanings. Tempting as it might be, make certain you're not using your fianc? as a coin-toss tool (ever observed how people flip coins to find out what they truly want?). Take it seriously when you ask for his viewpoint. And when you offer him ownership of a task, don't second-guess every step. Picture that your fianc? has actually told you he's going to draft an all-star team in his fantasy football league, and it's going to cost him $20K to take part. Now envision that he's told you your aid is supremely crucial to him. Hopefully he 'd welcome your ideas, however odd it felt for you to venture them. Now picture your fianc? feels kind of like that when it comes to the wedding event. 10) Remember that men become wedding event professionals by having one. Possibilities are, your sweetheart will open his eyes to the wonder of a wedding event by the time the increased petals are tossed. Forever after, he'll be examining buddy's receptions with a practiced eye, and anticipating the next excuse for a Truly Big Function. So keep him around, and count on throwing a first-rate anniversary celebration ten years down the road. In such a way, that'll be the party that truly matters, won't it? https://weddingphotographerbirmingham841.blogspot.com/2022/08/wedding-photographer-leicester.html Wedding Photographer Photographers wedding wedding photographer asian photographers near me for wedding best wedding photographer Birmingham photographers Birmingham wedding videographers wedding photographers near me Asian Wedding Videographer Birmingham wedding photographers in Birmingham wedding photographers birmingham uk wedding photographer birmingham prices wedding photographers near me Birmingham photographers new born photographer near me family photographer near me wedding photographers birmingham newborn photoshoot photoshoot first birthday birmingham wedding photographers https://goodseoconsultants.blogspot.com/ https://goodseoconsultants.blogspot.com/2022/08/good-seo-consultants.html https://seoconsultants855.blogspot.com/ https://seoconsultants855.blogspot.com/2022/08/seo-consultants.html https://goldcoastchiropracticqld795.blogspot.com/

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finelinevogue · 3 years

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I love your “little moments” series… I have a weak spot for dad!Harry💕 and I love the relationship between the family’s members 🤗 and I really hope u will continue to update it! And for this series I would like to request Harry doing the 73 questions interview for Vogue and his kids and wife make an appearance (u can choose if the kids are toddlers or teens) and they even answer some questions OR an Howard Stern interview where Harry is asked about his family,maybe the host makes like not so nice-low key shady comments on his wife and on Harry’s daughter coming out story. Ok I’ m done, so sorry ik it’s so long 😅 it’s just I love your series sooo muchhh 🥰🥰 ok I’m done love u have a good day 😘

i’d love to answer this one!! thank you so much for loving my little series💕this one’s for you and for the other request i got which i’m combing with this: “Harry is doing a interview on facetime when his kid crashes the interview.” so pls enjoy and yeah enjoy;

oli - 6, felix - 4, belle - 1

The day had finally arrived for Harry Styles to complete the 73 Questions with Vogue.

It had come to be the promo for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ and his schedule was booked with interview after interview after interview, and it wasn’t ideal for this to all be happening months whilst also having to look after three meddling toddlers, one of whom had only recently turned 1 years old.

The house was chaos. Fun, but chaos. And it was also the setting of this interview.

“Alright you lot, this way.” You shoved your children along to your living room, giving Harry the space he needed with Joe Sabia - the interviewer.

“Thank you love, see you later.” He blew a kiss to you and returned his focus to Joe. This interview was the first of many and it was also a major marketing ploy. These types of interviews were so highly recommended for Harry to be involved in and Jeff had thought it was about time for him to do one.

Joe had arrived around 15 minutes ago, just to

run over the script and remind Harry of the pre-determined questions - which reminded him of the answers that you’d run through with him the night before. Now the cameras were set up, the mic people were all at stand-by and Joe was ready it was time to begin. The children had been so fascinated by all these new people, after not seeing anyone for months due to the coronavirus pandemic, which is why it took a lot of trouble to get them to shuffle away from their beloved dad.

A fake door knock arose.

“Harry Styles hello!”

“Hi!” Harry waved at the camera.

“I’m here to do the Vogue 73 Questions, shall we get to it?”

“Of course! Come in!” Harry welcomed Joe into the house and shut the door behind him, not trusting his little ones to not escape if they were running wild.

“Beautiful house! Is it your only one?”

“No, but it’s my only one in London.” Harry made a point of not exploiting how many houses he did have and where they were. In fact, you still didn’t know about the Island that he was currently investing in just for you. You were a huge conservation activist and so Harry thought you could spend your free time helping the fragile ecosystem on this island.

“Did you design it yourself?”

“Me and my wife built the plans, but we go the experts to finish it all off.”

“What’s your favourite room?”

“Um, probably the living room.”

“Why?”

“So many of my favourite memories have happened in there.”

“Could you give us some?”

Harry could give loads, but they were far too precious for him to just give away. The living room wasn’t even a massive room, it was quite quaint with a couple of sofas, a logwood fire and then rugs and paintings on the walls. It was a home within a home. It was where Felix had taken his first steps. It was where Oli had spoken his first words. It was where Belle had fallen over for the first time and given herself nasty carpet burn. It was where presents were opened at Christmas. It was where you and Harry had made love next to the fire. It was where Felix and Oli had had their first tiny argument. It was where you spent family nights. If your house was a map then that room marked X the spot.

It was treasure. Priceless.

“My favourite would probably be when my wife, Y/N, spilt red wine all over the new white carpet and then proceeded to throw white wine over the stain because she’d read somewhere that it helps to get rid of it.” Harry chuckled at the memory.

“Did it?”

“No, God no. The carpet’s grey now.”

Joe laughed, as did Harry.

“I have to say Harry, you’re looking very fashionable today who are you wearing?”

“Gucci.” He blushed, because he knew that everyone would’e known that without question. He was wearing a lilac silk shirt with his name embroidered on it - but really it was to symbolise your last name not his - with a white wife-beater shirt and white shorts. He looked rich.

“Shouldn’t have asked really? Is your wife as much a Gucci avid fan?”

“She hates anything expensive. I think she still wears the same jeans she was wearing at university!” He knew you’d hit him later for saying that.

“So she’s a hoarder?”

“God yeah. She keeps everything and anything.” Harry laughed in admiration.

“Has she always been?”

“Always. When we went on our first date, her bag was so full that she couldn’t find her purse and she was so embarrassed because she thought I would think she was taking advantage of who I was. Anyways I did end up paying that night, but she had actually, I don’t know how, sent me money for her portion of the bill. From that moment I knew it was going to be her.”

“Do you write songs about her?

“Every day.” He smiled at the thought of the one he’d written just this morning.

“Which one is your favourite about her?”

“I don’t know about favourite, but the one I hold closest to my heart is probably ‘Fine Line’.” Harry stopped there, not wanting to share the intimate details of why and Joe respected that.

“Do your children have a favourite song of yours?”

“They go crazy for Kiwi and Golden. Belle loves Treat People and Oli knows the dance to that one actually.”

“Did you choreograph the dance for TPWK?”

“Partially, but I had help from my friend Paul and Y/N helped too actually.”

Harry and Joe had now made it through the house, weaving in and out of rooms, until they had made it to the Garden. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to shut the bifold doors to the living room and so as soon as Harry came into focus for your children they immediately ran for him. Oli and Felix could run quite well, but Belle was a lot slower. She was only learning how to walk and so she fell a lot, unless she was being supported by you or Harry. Oli reached his dad first and then Felix, to which Harry knelt down to embrace them in ‘super-dad’ hugs as he liked to call them.

“And who do we have here?” Joe asked.

“Trouble.” Harry replied in jest, but whispered something into his boys ears before backing away.

“Hello i’m Oli.” Oli waved proudly to the camera.

“Hi i’m Fix.” Feliz shied into his dads neck, embarrassed of himself. Harry kissed the back of his head and kept a hold oh him around his back for comfort.

“Fix?” Joe asked at the peculiar name.

“It’s Felix, but he can’t pronounce his own name for some reason so we just call him Fix now. Or Flix. Don’t we buddy?”

“Oh my! I’m so sorry about this!” You ran out in panic, knowing your one job was to keep the kids entertained and away from their dad. At least that was the original plan, but both Harry and Joe like this idea so much more. You were blushing red in embarrassment, picking up a fallen over Belle on your way over to everyone else. “So sorry.”

Belle became restless in your arms, reaching forward for her dad. She whined when she couldn’t quite reach and Harry immediately stood up to take his winging daughter from your arms. As he did, he leant into you and whispered in your ear whilst leaving it a warm kiss behind.

“You’re okay love. Don’t be sorry.”

“Hello Y/N!” Joe spoke.

“Hiya! How are you?”

“I’m great, and you?”

“Peachy.” You laughed, leaning down to collect Felix who was making grabby hands at you. Oli was quite happy standing next to both his parents, one of Harrys hands running through his tiny locks of hair.

“So now we have the family together, how do you feel to all be together?”

You looked to Harry smiled to find him smiling back already at you, knowing you both had a very similar answer. “It feels right. It feels like home.” You answered and Harry nodded in agreement, giving Belle a gentle rock in his arms.

“Are you okay with showing your children’s faces publicly?”

“No we’re not.”

“Looks like we have a hell of a lot of editing to do back at HQ.” Joe laughed, but completely understood the reasoning behind yours two decision. If needed, you could re-film scenes of this interview so that it didn’t include your children. Joe had done his best to keep the camera on you and Harry and luckily the children kept their faces buried in their parents necks anyways. “Is that going to be forever?”

“When they are old enough to decide whether they want to be in the spotlight then we’ll see.” Harry smiled, holding onto Belle tighter because all he wanted to do was keep her protected, and his, forever.

“You two seem like very good parents.” Joe spoke sincerely, and it made you swallow down a sob because it was always really lovely to hear such compliments - knowing you’d struggled with postnatal depression.

“Thank you Joe.” Harry nodded respectfully.

“Okay let’s carry on?”

The interview carried on until Harry had answered so many questions. He redid bits, due the children being too involved and he re-filmed answers to questions he found difficult to answer the first time around. He had such a great experience and was happy with the way that the day turned out.

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

Text

Broken-Style Remix: Yandere Mother Talia Al Ghul

Broken: When it comes to Yandere Mothers, Talia Al Ghul is one of my favorites; considering how obsessed she is with her baby daddy. Recently, I came into a Yandere Talia Al Ghul Image made by @anxiousnerdwritings & with their permission, I have been allowed to make this Broken-Style Remix! Now, let the words weave together!!!

@anxiousnerdwritings's version: LINK

SUBTITLE: THE ONE YOU THREW AWAY

Talia Al Ghul wanted things thing and would do anything to obtain those things - Complete Control & Undeniable Power. She was the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul - The Head Demon of the League of Assassin & Immortal Mad-Man, well...not anymore; now Talia was on the Throne as Head of the League of Assassins, but there was a time before everything went to hell. Talia always wanted to have power but she also wanted someone to share it with - that came in the form of the Protector of Gotham - The Masked Savior, Batman. Talia was entranced by his power and skill, he would have been a perfect partner to rule with if he wasn't so hesitant to kill but she could sculpt him to fit her mold one way or another but first she needed to get him on her side. Her father thought of him as the perfect heir but there was no way the protector would join him, so Talia planned and that plan was to give herself and Bruce an heir - the perfect combination of the two of them. However, a wrench was thrown into that plan when inside of one - there were two.

A Son & A Daughter.

A Son that mirrored his father in young as he would in adulthood, with the exception of the emerald eyes that Talia possessed - the eyes of an Al Ghul. He was given the name Damian.

Her daughter was another story: she grew to look just as Talia did in her youth but she had her father's calm blue eyes - the eyes of a protector. The eyes of a Wayne. The eyes of a savior, not a killer - she was flawed with those eyes. She was named Bellatrix - just as her father, she would be expected to be a great warrior.

When it was time to hone their skills, it was clear that they were the perfect combination of the Al Ghul and Wayne Genes - Damian more. He was the perfect killer, merciless and quick; he wouldn't give his enemies time to speak. No, enemies were too kind of a word to describe them - they were his prey while he was the hunter. He didn't care how many he had to cut down; he would never tire until all of them were dead at his feet.

Bellatrix - on the other hand - was a different story. It was clear she had the skills, it was obvious that she had the power, but the main issue was that she wouldn't finish the job; she lacked the most important trait of the Al Ghul Bloodline - she refused to kill. Talia feared this - she was just like her father and she didn't want weakness into the pain; especially since she was the eldest of the two. She either had to fix the problem or completely remove it.

And she would much prefer the latter.

Ra's loved his grandchildren all the same - he didn't care of Bellatrix didn't kill, he was pleased enough that she was able to complete impossible tasks alone and come back unscabbed. He would praise her and he would train with her in his free time - the two of them were fond of meditation to keep themselves centered.

"Remember Granddaughter: If you are completely centered then there is nothing you can't overcome. Knowing your center is knowing your true power." - That is what Ra's would tell her during those times.

As time passed on, Talia noticed that Bellatrix gained in power and knowledge every day while her son showed just how much of an Al Ghul he was every time he went on a mission, but that didn't matter to Talia - that girl...that mistake...was a single dot in the way of her son's rightful place as Head of The League & she had to something about it.

And she did.

One night - Talia told Bellatrix to accompany her to the desert for recon and the girl agreed, thinking it was going to be a mother-daughter experience. The two of them sourced their bounds but found nothing, Bellatrix looked around the dunes to see if there was something hiding in the desert's darkness until her body made her move and she dodged just in the next of time as a blade came in close contact with her throat. She reached for her sword, only for her hand to be grabbed, and turned it to her back. She was then grabbed from other directions before being kicked in the back of her knees and came to her knees in the sand. She struggled and looked at the cloaked figures that held her until she looked at her mother.

"Mother! Help!" She begged for her mother.

"Why would I do that," Talia walked over to her bound daughter as one of the assassins handed her a sword, "When it took me so long to get you here?" Talia looked into her daughter's eyes with emptiness.

"You...You planned this? Mother, why would you do this?" Bellatrix asked.

"This is something I should have done from the start, after all - My Beloved needs an heir, not a burden. You are a stain on the Al Ghul Name, an Al Ghul that refuses to kill is not an Al Ghul; hell, you aren't even an assassin. You're a defect, a flaw, a wrench in my plan to have my beloved rule behind me as King and Queen of the League of Assassins."

Bellatrix's eyes widened at the sight of her mother raising her sword.

"And all defects must be eliminated." Talia growled as her arm thrust forward - Bellatrix's eyes widened and her jaw locked to keep herself from screaming as the blade ripped through her chest and came out on the other side.

Talia lifted her foot - the other assassins released the girl - and kicked her to the dirt and watched her groan in pain before going limp in the cold desert night.

"Dispose of the body. I have to deliver the news that the heir has been killed and watch my one true child take his rightful place." Talia didn't give her daughter's body a second glance as she turned and walked away to her jet that was waiting for her.

She should have checked her vitals.

[Timeskip - Years Later]

Years had gone by but Talia still thinks back to the night she stuck her sword through her daughter's body and left her for dead; she was so certain that was what she wanted by there was something missing and for once in her life, it had nothing to do with her Beloved Bat. She tried to put those thoughts aside for she was on a mission.

After the death of her father, she found some research on a mind-control agent that she could use to have the one she wanted most but the League was too thin and most were doing other tasks while some were rebuilding the complex, thus the Head of the Demon Clan had to deal with it on her own, which she was fine with.

However, something felt different - she wasn't sure what it was...but she knew something was going to happen tonight.

Talia did what she had to do and secured to the agent before making her way back to the roof - only to have two people walking for her.

One was a tall man with a red helmet, a brown leather jacket, a gray Bat-Armor with a Red Bat Insignia on the chest; Talia could see the pistols and ammo belts around his waist.

The second was a feminine figure: She was around the same height as Damian, wearing Bat-Armor that looked a lot like a Ninja's outfit with a sword on her back and a dark blue Bat Insignia on her chest. Her hair was long and black but tied in a ponytail, except some hair that freely fell in her face and covered some of the ribbon eye mask around her eyes.

"I guess my beloved couldn't make it to see me?" Talia asked as she placed the agent in her pocket.

"We were the closest in the area so he sent us to what it was about - didn't think we'd find his batshit crazy baby-momma here." The Red Hood said as he folded his arms.

"Too bad, he might have convinced me to surrender but I don't have an issue with breaking children who stand in my way." Talia said.

"You never had an issue with killing them, why would you have an issue with breaking them?" The female said.

"What did you say?" Talia said as she looked at the female figure.

"You don't remember the child you killed? The blood of the Al Ghul you spilled? The child you detested because she wouldn't kill so you decided to kill her instead?" The female stepped forward and reached for her eye mask, "You don't remember my voice...Mother?" She pulled it off and Talia's eyes widened when they locked with the blue eyes of her late daughter - the one that was supposed to die. The stain in her plan.

"You lived? After all of these years, you dare come to face me again?" Talia narrowed her eyes.

"Rather cold to say to your kid who came back from the dead, Lady." He looked at Bellatrix, "Bat-Fang, you wanna deal with her while I wait on the old man?" He asked.

"You read my mind." Bellatrix stepped forward and pulled her sword out, "Arm yourself."

"I guess some stains are harder to wash out." Talia said as she pulled her sword out, "I'll make sure you don't come back."

Emerald and Sapphire locked with each other before the thunderclap of the coming storm sent them both into attack mode. Their blades clashed against each other as the two women danced in a deadly dance, Talia was focused but at the same time confused - how was Bellatrix this focused when the anger in her eyes was so strong? Talia tried harder and used more power but that was the opening Bellatrix needed.

Talia watched as the girl grabbed the sword with her left hand before delivering a swift but devastating kick to her gut, sending her skipping like a stone against the roof as she released the grip of her sword. Talia picked herself off the ground and glared at her eldest as the girl place her own sword back in its sheath and shatter Talia's into two halves, letting the shards and sword halves fall to her feet before she charged at her mother. Talia's guard went up as the two of them locked in a brawl.

'What is going on here? She was never this fast or ruthless! What is...'

Her thoughts were cut off as Bellatrix grabbed her foot and began to swing her until Bellatrix let her go and got stuck in a window. Talia opened her eyes from the impact just in time to see the glare on her daughter's face as she came soaring and her fist connected with Talia's face, sending them both into the abandoned building. Talia groaned from the pain but more pain was added when she felt her daughter grab her by her hair and pull her to her feet.

"What do you have to say now, Talia? Am I still defective?" Bellatrix asked before she punched the Assassin Leader in the face, making her crash into a crumbling wall.

"Am I still a flaw?" Bellatrix asked as she spartan-kicked Talia through the wall and into the living room, making the woman fall on her back.

"Am I still the wrench in your perfect plan? Am I?!" Bellatrix barked as she grabbed her mother by the next and punched her in the face, making her back hit a window. Talia's version was blurry from the pain but when it came together - her eyes widened at the murderous gaze in her eyes.

"Am I still not an Al Ghul?" Bellatrix punched her in the face again - sending the woman crashing through the window again but this time, she felt on a lower roof of a building just as another thunderclap echoed through the sky and the rain began to fall. Talia grunted at the pain but opened her eyes to watch her daughter jump out the window and walk over to her; glaring down at her with blue eyes.

"How... How did you survive?" She asked.

"You should have checked my vitals before you left me to die; once you were gone, I took care of the assassins that you had hold me. I'm not proud I shed their blood but I knew if I didn't, they were going to make sure I was dead." Bellatrix answered.

"You survived... You killed... And now, you have me helpless." Talia smiled at her, "I'm so proud of you, My Baby Girl." She cooed.

"What?" Bellatrix glared with confusion.

"You are everything I want in a perfect heir: You survived my trap, you killed those who held you captive, and you reduced me - the Leader of the League of Assassins - to this pitiful state. My darling, you are perfect." Talia smiled at her daughter.

"I don't know what you are thinking but I'm nothing like you want me to be and I never will be." Bellatrix reached down and took the mind-control agent from Talia before turning and walking away.

"You can walk away now, My Sweet Child, but know that I am coming for you. I will bring you home and you will be what you were born to me - The Perfect Al Ghul Heir. Run while you can, my dear, Mother is coming for you." Talia laughed at Bellatrix as the girl jumped off the small roof, leaving the woman alone.

Talia looked up at the rain in the sky and smiled before picking herself off the ground, touching the side of her lip, and looked at the blood - her blood - that her daughter spilled.

'It was a mistake to let you go but now that you are back, I shall have you once more and we shall be a family. You can't escape your blood, Bellatrix; you're an Al Ghul...and you belong to me.'

#Yandere Talia Al Ghul #Yandere Mother #Broken-Style Remix

260 notes · View notes

writerpeach · 3 years

Text

Lights & Cameras

Jeon Somi x Male Reader

5575 words

Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.

Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.

It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.

Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.

You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.

Fashion never made sense.

There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.

You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.

Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.

One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.

Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.

Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.

Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.

This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.

The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.

Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.

Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.

Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.

Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.

The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.

“Thirty minute break!”

An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.

The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.

“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.

“You must be bored out of your mind.”

You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”

“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.

“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.

“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.

Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.

“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.

“You want me to help you change?”

Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”

Thankfully nobody was in earshot.

“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.

“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”

Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.

“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.

If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.

But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.

You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.

“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.

Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.

“You’re so naughty, Somi.”

“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.

Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.

She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.

It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.

You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.

Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.

“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.

“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.

Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.

She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.

Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.

Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.

Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.

Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.

“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.

“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.

You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.

Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.

You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.

“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.

“So suck my cock.”

Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.

"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.

“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.

You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.

“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.

Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.

“Fuck, baby…”

Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.

“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.

“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”

Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.

The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.

“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.

“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”

“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”

Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.

Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.

Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.

She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.

“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.

“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.

“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”

Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.

Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.

Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.

“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.

“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.

“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”

Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.

Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.

That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.

“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not

caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.

Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.

Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.

You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.

If only her staff could see her like this.

“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”

You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.

“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.

“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.

The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.

There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.

Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.

“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.

“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.

“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”

Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.

“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.

Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.

You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.

“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.

“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”

“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”

“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”

Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.

“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”

Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.

“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”

You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.

Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.

“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.

You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.

“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.

Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.

Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.

It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.

“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.

Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.

That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.

“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.

“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”

Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.

You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.

Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.

"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"

You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.

It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.

“I’m fucking cumming!”

It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.

You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.

Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.

You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.

“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”

“You asked me to.”

“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.

Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.

“Jeon Somi to the set please!”

The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.

“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”

“Of course, baby.”

She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.

You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.

You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.

Somi had a lot of explaining to do.

#somi smut #kpop smut #somi #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader

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taki118 · 4 years

Text

Go Watch the Venture Brothers

So just heard the complete and utter Bullshit news that Adult Swim has cancelled one of (if not the best shows) they have the Venture Bros. This series is one of those shows that for WHATEVER reason never got to the level of fandom Rick and Morty has even though they’ve been at the genre parody game longer and in my opinion better.

The series is about Rusty Venture former boy adventurer and failing super scientist who in an attempt to keep his head above water in debt goes around with his two boys Hank and Dean, and bodyguard Brock on misadventues while various legal archnemisis go after him, such as the Monarch.

So if you never watched or never heard of this 7 season series let me give you a break down on why you should,

1) Art Style & Animation

Venture bros is one of those rare Adult aimed animated series that that really truly tries to utilize their medium to the best of their abilities. Season 1 had like such a small budget and corners had to be cut so it can be a little hard to watch at times.

But with each passing season they get a little better, a little more fluid, go just a little harder and it truly feels rewarding to watch. Like seeing an artist you follow online improve over the years. Like they COULD have stayed with the choppy and stiff animation from season 1 it fit right in with its fellow adult animated shows but it didn’t. They strove for quality to have something that matched the story they were telling.

2) The Writing

Venture Bros has some of the tightest and consistently great writing of ANY serialized show I’ve seen, adult, animated or other wise. Wanna know why? Cause it’s all done by TWO people (save for like one ep each season where one other person is allowed to touch their baby). Yeah TWO people and they work their asses off every season to interject, humor, refrences, parody, plot and character development in equal measure.

3) Character Development

Um yes in case you were wondering that’s right an adult animated show has CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT that holds as the series goes on. Not to give spoilers but characters will go through changes in alignment, relationships will develop and change, some characters will go through negative arcs where they are straight up unbareable for a season before coming out the other side even better than they were before. There is no end of epsiode or even end of season reset. Characters, settings, and dynamics all change over the course of the show and it feels just so god damn good.

4) Story Development

Just like the characters the story of the Venture Bros grows and changes each season. Things that are set up even as early as season one are paid off as the series goes on. Like not to be that bitch but you know how RIck and Morty teases an overarching plot ALL THE TIME but like will often just spit in the face of fans hoping for more than like one episode a season addressing it? Yeahhhhhhh that doesnt happen here, fans are consistently rewarded for putting the time in to rewatch and really think about what happened in the series. Characters that are seen in the background or are just referenced by other characters will be brought in to be recurring characters, things that start off as a small detail or gag will be given larger relevance and each time they do this you get that “OH I remember that from last season! So thats what it was!” The writers WANT you to rewatch, they WANT you to analyze and they WANT you to theorize, and they give you a show that gives back the time you put in.

5) Parody & Reference

This series does a great thing with parody. They make real characters who are just as enjoyable as the characters they parody, they make story lines that both poke fun at the absurdity of the media but shows the writers love for it. So often parody and references are just used to mock the thing but with Venture Bros you feel the love and care so when you know the thing being parodied you can laugh but feel good about laughing cause they are never laughing at a thing maybe you cared for in your youth but rather laughing with it.

And it’s never just one thing. When they parody a thing its often layered with other things to make it even more unique. Scooby-Doo is overlayed with famous criminals, Laura Croft is mixed Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, GI Joe is given the look of the Village People and so on. They never go for the easy joke or reference. Hell theres an episode that starts with them reciting the lyrics to David Bowies Space Oddity for really no reason other than they could. They weave these things in naturally with their setting and characters so nothing feels out of place. Like if you dont catch a reference or parody you dont feel like “I think this isa reference to something?” like a LOT of things do not just adult animated shows. You arent taken out of the moment cause it all feels so natural.

6) The Characters

God damn these characters, I could go on for hours about these characters. From main to one off these are some of the most likeable characters you can find. I mean it when I say I can’t think of a single character I wish they had cut cause they are all so well created. Even the ones I hate i have fun hating cause they were made to be that way. I’ll be good though I’ll only talk about my absolute top faves.

- The Monarchs

You ever sit and wish villain couples could have functional healthy relationships? Well look no further than Malcom Fitzcarraldo aka The Monarch and Dr. Shelia Girlfriend (yes that is her last name). The Monarch is a high strung impulsive saturday morning cartoon villain whos tendency to over react is only matched by his unspecified hatred of Dr. Venture. And Dr. G is his nonsense partner in crime who will cut a bitch if they don’t play by their admittedly weird rules. Both characters are great on their own but are better together. Though that doesnt mean they always get along. Like a real couple they have their ups and downs they fight, break up, make-up and grow stronger in their relationship with each season.

- Shore Leave

Ok ok so I want you to imagine James Bond, mixed with GI Joe simmering in a cocktail of the most flamboyant gay men you have ever seen and you have one of my favorite gay characters/characters in general. Shore Leave is a member of OSI (the shows SHEILD/GI Joe parody organization) he’s loud, brash, flippant, sassy and highly competent at his job loving every second of getting to beat bad guys down within an inch of their life. I love seeing him play off the stoic Brock and the two have this great brotherly dynamic that’s never called into question. He also gets to have a very cute romance with Al the Alchemist (who is also great). I could talk about this man all day.

- Dr. Rusty Venture

They did such a good job with this man. He’s a self serving, sexist, perverted, whinny, self important asshole and yet you feel pity and genuine sympathy for him and want him to succeed. You can see how Dr. V was given a raw deal by his father who seemed to care more about his adventures than his sons well being and how this molded him into the bitter man he is today, but on the flip side you can see where he chose to use that as a crutch for his worst behaviors and impulses. Seeing him slowly grow and change and be an actual good father to his boys while all the while still be a giant dick is actually really great.

- Dr. Byron Orpheus

Ahhhhh Dr. Orpheus part Dr. Strange Parody part busybody stay at home dad, he’s just such a delight. Dr. Orpheus is a divorcee, with an unfulfilling job of maintaining order to the cosmos (which isnt as hard as one might think), and uses his magical ablities in ways most of us would (ie menial tasks and home chores). Overly dramatic and affectionate Dr. O is a delight whenever he appears, but he’s at his best around his daughter and old friends The Order of the Triad.

Again I can go on but all these characters ranging from main to recurring are crafted with the utmost care for you to want to see them succeed or fail, to see them again even if you know it’ll never happen, and want them to cross paths with other characters.

The Venture Bros is one of those series that I will ALWAYS recommend even to the pickiest of humor tastes. But if you don’t believe its as good as I said or don’t think the concept is to your tastes I’ll recommend a few eps that I think best show off the base idea of the series without giving much away. In terms of plot and spoilers, though somethings wont make a lot of sense.

- S1 ep10 "Tag Sale – You're It!" - Dr. V is having a yard sale so of course all manner of costumed weirdos show up. - S2 ep5 "Twenty Years to Midnight" - basically a fetch quest around the world to save the planet with daddy issues - S3 ep2 "The Doctor Is Sin" - Again daddy issues but with one of the best recurring characters and a great showcase of the series deeper emotional plots - S4 ep6 "Self-Medication" - Really embraces the parody as Rusty goes to a former boy adventurer support group. Anyway the show is 7 seasons with 80 episodes, please go watch it. I will never forgive @adultswim for cancelling what was to be their final season. And in closing GO TEAM VENTURE!

#venture bros #the venture bros #venture brothers #adultswim #adult animated shows #animated shows #animation #go watch this show #go watch #adult animation

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atsukashii · 3 years

Note

this is such a cute little event 😭 and also as a bts stab of 4 years, welcome to the club, bby 🤩💜 anyways for the event; mamushi x katsuki + she/her + emerald green + ☀️ (thank you in advance!!)

every night and day i know you always stay

✘ formal events are definitely not your thing, and its a good thing that your boyfriend hates them just as much as you.

✘ GENRE: fluff

✘ WARNINGS: none

✘ WORD COUNT: 1.2k

“I know I said what I said,” You start taking a pointed sip from the glass of champagne in your hand. “But when I was talking about the perks of being a pro hero - this was not what I meant.” There’s a bark of deep laughter from beside you, and the figure turns towards you with an ash blonde eyebrow raised in mock confusion.

“You mean to say that when you were talking about how great it was being a pro hero, you weren’t talking about the black tie gala’s we’re contracted to attend?” Katsuki says sarcastically, and you have to physically stop yourself from flipping your boyfriend off.

“I was saying it in reference to free fucking ramen Katsu.” You hiss under your breath, letting your eyes roam over the full conference room, decked out for such a large scale event. You weren’t surprised at the carpeted walkway as you arrived, with a large banner wall on one side, and countless reporters and media paparazzi crowding the other. All for the annual ‘Hero Awards’, as if being a hero to actually save lives wasn’t enough of a reward.

The fact that it wasn’t even a charity event you were obligated to attend grated on you more than you let on. Why should heroes be rewarded even more for their work? It’s one of the most fulfilling, dangerous and draining jobs on the face of the planet, so yes, let's give some already egotistical bastards a blinding gold medal, because that's what we’re really needing to celebrate.

You take another sip of your drink, feeling Katsuki’s crimson eyes practically burn into the side of your head. You wait eagerly for him to say something, but instead, he simply takes another side step towards you and leans down, whispering in your ear.

“If you glare at the director of the event any harder, they’ll combust into flames.” You shift your gaze from the woman in mention, and give Katsuki an expressionless look, completely done with his pointless commentary.

“If anything’s going to be combusting around here, it will be one hundred percent your fault.” You snip back, but there’s no fire in it, and the traitorous smile that splays across your mouth that you can’t wipe away has your boyfriend chuckling quietly to himself.

“Well at least I got to see you like that,” He finishes, and even though you’ve been together for years, the brazen flash of his eyes as he unapologetically lets his gaze run down your figure and up again still makes your cheeks flush brightly. Another reason you despised this event was the fact that it was formal, meaning you had to force yourself to go out and search for a ballgown for a month beforehand. But you knew you looked good, mainly due to the fact that the man standing by your side’s eyes almost popped out of his head when you’d emerged from your bathroom earlier this evening ready to go. You were dripping in the emerald green fabric, and had been complimented all night on your dress by your close friends, however strangers stayed far away due to the glowering and protective number two pro hero at your side.

“Want to get out of here gorgeous?” Your eyes bug out as you look to Katsuki once more, and see that he’s one hundred percent serious. There’s a high possibility that you could get into deep shit for leaving this event, although you’d already mingled and thanked the director for your invitation which has been like pulling teeth. You knew Katsuki was in the running for an award like he had been every year, and the gold medal that was stuffed in his pocket must have been the final straw.

His crimson eyes sparkle at the possible trouble you could both get into, and you don’t fight the excitement and adrenaline that starts to thrum inside you.

“Please,” Is all you have to say, before Katsuki entwines his fingers with yours and leads you through the crowd. People part around him like the red sea, and you can’t help but feel pride at the confidence in his every step. He doesn’t care that people are seeing you leave, it’s as if he’s daring them to try and stop him. Instead, everyone just lets it happen, and Kirishima even waves to you as you leave.

It’s not until you’re sitting in the passenger seat of your boyfriend's ridiculous customised Ferrari that you finally feel yourself relaxing into the bucket seats. With graceful effortlessness like everything he does, Katsuki maneuvers the vehicle into the street before practically shooting off at the speed of light. You’ve given him plenty of crap about his choices of cars before, claiming there’s no point in owning one if you never have the chance to drive it, but Katsuki says simply that you’ve just explained the premise of owning one. So instead, you just lean back into the seat with closed eyes, listening to the familiar kpop song playing on the radio.

As the car slows to a stop a few minutes later, you open your eyes knowing that you’re definitely at home. Katsuki’s figure is enveloped with the bright lights of the convenience store and you raise an eyebrow at him. Why were you stopping here?

“I’m fucking starving,” he offers and opens his door. “Since they think its alright to feed pro heroes tiny fucking snacks and think that’s an appropriate meal.” Katsuki grumbles and you immediately get out of the vehicle, your grin not leaving your face. When you were in your last year of U.A, the two of you used to sneak out some nights and wander down to the closest family mart and buy instant ramen and candy before taking your time in going back to campus. The fact that he chose to come here instead of raiding the constantly full fridge has your heart thrumming happily inside your chest.

You’re sure that the two of you are a sight, dressed in formal wear and weaving through the isles, arms full of convenience store food. It all reminds you of your high school days so much, and you’re so full of nostalgia that you pull your boyfriend to a stop in front of the chocolates.

Katsuki eyes you in confusion, but you don’t give him the chance to respond before you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his lips. Katsuki’s free hand weaves roughly into your perfectly styled hair, holding you to him for a moment longer. Kissing Katsuki is like waking up in the morning, when your mind is still foggy with sleep but your body is moving before your brain. Every kiss from him renders you speechless, and has since he first kissed you in your dorm when you were teenagers.

Pulling back, you immediately laugh as the edge of your boyfriend’s mouth is speckled with dark red lipstick. You wipe it away with your thumb, and take a moment to engrave this moment into your mind forever. Dressed in all your finery in a convenience store, buying instant noodles with Katsuki.

“You’re everything to me,” you whisper so softly you don’t know if he heard it. But the fingers that come up to your face and gently pinch your chin signal that he did.

“Ditto gorgeous.”

a/n: thank you for the request anon, and deadass those boys have made me a simp.

✘ EVENT STATUS : CLOSED ✘

#special event 🧚‍♀️✨#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou fluff #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo imagine

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ckneal · 3 years

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So, there’s this one angel story in the back of my head that I know I wont write. I wont write it, because it’s utter nonsense, with very little regard for the canonical timeline of Supernatural, and a willfully blurry view on what is and is not “in character.” It’s fluff. It’s all fluff, in the form of a bunch of smaller stories that gradually weave together, following the Love, Actually style of storytelling, but instead of problematic love stories, it’s all about angels playing hooky from Heaven after the Fall.

(Seriously, there is no substance here, I swear.)

Stories include Abner, living out the first half of the movie Family Man, struggling to figure out how to be a good father and house husband after he steps into the life of the raging alcoholic who agreed to be his vessel. There’s also a very minor story about Esther (not to be confused with Hester, who is not in this story because she never deserted her post in Heaven) learning to play the part of a little girl and navigating schoolyard politics, but kids can be mean and Esther learns the hard way that Michael’s approach to asserting dominance in Heaven does not translate well. There’s also Daniel and Adina, who both settle into vessels in the same movie theater where a romantic comedy is playing, and fall into a very innocent, play-acting sort of love after they leave the theatre—like little kids pretending to be in love, recreating the scenes from the movie, but at the same time not really understanding it. Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael each trying to roll with the luxurious high roller life style, and awkwardly running into each other at VIP poker games, exclusive spas and clubs, and the occasional orgy that they promptly leave IMMEDATELY after running into a sibling (don’t give me weird looks, Balthazar and Gabriel canonically include that sort of thing in their definition of luxury, and the whole thing of their story is their siblings keep cramping their style). Tyrus is in there bowling, somewhere. Benjamin’s playing arcade games with his wife. And then there’s Thaddeus, my pet favorite minor angel character, realizing what’s happening as he’s falling with all the other faithful angels during the Fall and seizing the opportunity to abandon his life as a guard and torturer, settling into a pop star for his vessel—initially for the sake of the cushy lifestyle, but then gradually looking back, before the garden and Lucifer, before everyone was assigned a job in Heaven, like it or not, and the options were to adapt or to be smote, and remembering that back then, he could sing.

And of course, Michael and Adam get a story too—in which Michael lowkey gets into a pissing contest with death, as he and Adam travel the world, hitting up hospital after hospital to heal people. Because the first thing Adam wanted to do after getting out of the cage (okay, second thing—burgers came first) was go to the nearest medical center and start healing people left and right. And at first, they’re having a great time. Adam steals a white jacket he finds in the breakroom somewhere, and anytime someone says he looks a little young to be a doctor (Adam still looking nineteen years old, because I say so), Michael wipes the poor sap’s mind. But eventually—sometime after they’ve cleared out the children’s ward, the cancer ward, the cardiac ward—Billie shows up, sniping at them that they can’t just go around healing people who are destined to die, because there is an order to life and death that cannot be shoved aside. And Billie tries to make a show of it, as Terra did with Dean, by having several people who Adam had healed over the course of the day inadvertently cause several massive accidents. The news suddenly comes pouring out of the television, channels flipping as newscasters talk about tragedies occurring in several different parts of the city they’re currently in. The sound of approaching ambulance sirens fills the air, as in the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses begin hurrying to receive a rush of ER patients.

Adam’s horrified.

Michael does not take kindly to this. He snaps his fingers and makes it so that the carnage has never happened. Because he is the archangel Michael, only two steps away from being a god, and if he says that all of these people are going to live, then they are going to live, and he WILL NOT be intimidated, especially by an amateur reaper whose only qualification for her position was dying at the right time.

Billie in turn lands Michael with a cold stare, and points out that the order to life and death is beyond even God’s authority, let alone daddy’s blunt, sniveling instrument.

As Michael’s eyes start to glow, Adam steps in and says, “So, to be clear, you want us to stop healing people on the verge of death? We can do that.”

After Billie leaves, Michael is outraged, but Adam says, “No, Michael, THINK about it.”

We then cut to other stories, where newscasts in the background reveal that ailments that are not IMMIEDATELY fatal (AIDs, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, etc.) are mysteriously disappearing overnight, worldwide.

Billie is not amused, and tells her reapers to be on the lookout for an archangel at every major hospital in the world.

Cut to Michael throwing open the door of the bunker, muttering aloud to Adam that he’s going to do it, he’s going to bind Death, just like Lucifer did—how hard can it be? Sam and Dean see him as he goes stomping off toward the cabinet where they keep all of their magical dry goods, but Michael snaps his fingers and the two of them are abruptly half drunk in Dean’s man cave, sitting in front of Dean’s flat screen TV, watching some campy monster movie, because that’s lowkey what Michael and Adam assume they do all day.

As they’re raiding Sam and Dean’s supplies though, Adam says, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Cut to Abner looking up while pushing his vessel’s daughter in a park swing, and literally seeing Michael and Adam chasing an ambulance, so they can technically heal the person inside before reaching the hospital.

Yes, I’m aware that Abner was dead by the time Michael and Adam got out of the cage. But see, this story? This story is like when someone gifts you a goldfish unexpectedly, and you put it in a bowl, checking in to feed it a couple times a day, lowkey expecting it to die. But it doesn’t die, it gets bigger. And you’re not a cruel person, so you put it in a bigger tank, but it just gets bigger again, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but you know, you just kind of keep checking in, meeting the minimum requirements but not really getting in there as a guiding force because it’s a goldfish and it’s surely going to die any minute now—but then you look over and there’s giant tank taking up your living room, and you’re thawing out bloodworms twice a day, and looking into tankmates to keep Charles company, and realize that “Oh wow, I guess this is a thing now.”

In short, the story says we’re ignoring the timeline, and it’s calling the shots. I’m just keeping the tank clean.

The angels all eventually wind up running into each other. Abner and Esther happen upon one another in a park, where Esther is morosely realizing that she is terrible at being a human child but she does not want to go home to Heaven, and it just happens to be the same park where Abner goes with his “little nibblet” once a day to let her toddle around the playground while he chats with nannies and other house parents. Anael, Adina, and Daniel meet up when the latter two’s game has reached the point where they’ve decided to get married, and they apparently need to buy something new—preferably blue—as per this very important rhyme someone told them about. Esther and Gabriel run into each other in an ice cream parlor. Thaddeus gets recognized while doing an interview on TV that everyone sees. And, while out joyriding in a Lamborghini, on their way to meet up with the growing community of angels who decided to opt out of their responsibility to Heaven and their father’s legacy, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael are all startled to see Michael land on an ambulance stopped next to them at a red light.

Balthazar and Anael are both terrified, as if they’ve just been busted by a parent, because Michael, of course, is the guy who enforces the rules, and isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? They both shoot Gabriel looks as if to say ‘what the hell are you doing’ when Gabriel, watching as Michael climbs down and matter-of-factly wrenches the ambulance doors open, calls out, “Hey, Mike! Is that you?”

Michael looks over, freezes for a second—not prepared to be suddenly thrust into a social situation in the middle of his self-imposed mission to spite death—then his eyes flash and Adam takes over. “Oh hey, you’re Michael’s family? What a small world! I’m Adam, I’ve heard so much about you. Wait, hang on—”

The light starts to turn green, but Adam snaps his fingers and it promptly reverts to red.

Three jaws drop in the luxury car, and they don’t even hear Adam politely explain that he and Michael are in the middle of something, as he ducks into the ambulance, because Michael’s evidently letting a tiny human use his powers like it’s nothing, and what does that mean?

“Sweet dad in the unknown, Michael’s shagging a human. . .”

“Nooo!”

“HOW?”

“Hey, kid, you like weddings?”

At some point in the story, all the MIA angels are together, and Benjamin or someone comes running in saying, “Quick, they’re coming! Everyone hide!”

And everyone scatters, except for Michael, who stands in place, saying, “Gabriel, we’re archangels, two of the most powerful beings in existence. Why would we—”

And then Gabriel picks Adam up like a sack of potatoes and sprints off, calling back, “Trust me, you do NOT want to get involved with them!”

Being a projection, Michael is obligated to follow.

Team Free Will then walks by, looking constipated from whatever Big Awful Thing is currently threatening to destroy the world.

The story, of course, culminates in the wedding of Adina and Daniel, who still don’t quite understand what marriage is beyond promising to love each forever, which of course they will, after all, they are the very best of friends—which is about the same concept that most of the other angels present have. Adam is the first one to actually approach the big awkward question, upon finding out who the bride and groom are.

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

To which Serafina’s Adam, (who is of course there since Serafina was the original angel to play hooky) whose sons married his daughters, and all the angels, who do not understand what that has to do with anything, all cock their heads in unison and respond with, “So?”

Adam struggles to find words, looking into so many innocent faces. Then Benjamin’s wife puts a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Shhh, let them have their fun.”

Benjamin’s wife and the two Adams wind up sitting at the venue’s bar, where they order nachos from a very confused bar tender, and watch as the angels go about setting up a wedding. But given that most angels haven’t been on earth regularly in roughly two thousand years, none of them have a clear grasp of what a human wedding entails.

“I heard it’s traditional for the father to give away the bride.”

“I think they’re supposed to kiss over bread.”

“Do humans still slaughter cows at these things?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is supposed to break a glass—”

Several angels promptly throw glassware on the floor.

At no point do the angels ask the humans for advice.

Occasionally, Gabriel knowingly throws out obscure details to keep the confusion going.

“You know, the groom needs to stand with the right arm to the aisle in case a sword fight breaks out.”

“Right! . . .How do we know which one’s the groom?”

At the bar, Adam open’s his mouth to say something, but the original Adam shushes him.

“No no, son, let them get there.”

The angels agree that being the better fighter, Adina should be the groom.

They’re nearly ready to start when Michael suddenly doubles over with his hand over his mouth. It coincides with the sound of Adam pounding the bar top, having just eaten a Carolina Reaper pepper on dare. Michael’s eyes quickly flash silver-blue as he straightens, and both he and Adam are abruptly fine—even if their eyes are still watering somewhat. But a different sort of damage has already been done, as Anael, Balthazar, and Gabriel all abruptly turn toward the triad of humans, having been reminded that the Michael walking around with them is actually a projection. In actuality, Michael is anchored to the human ex-college student sitting at the bar.

All three of them rush toward Adam, but Serafina gets there first, asking Adam if he’s ever tried mushroom tea.

Balthazar gets there next.

“Adam, was it? We didn’t get to talk in the car, let’s fix that. Are you over twenty-one? You know what, this is a family affair, don’t worry—CAN I GET TWO SHOTS OF DON JULIO OVER HERE?”

From that point on, any time Adam turns around, there’s one of Michael’s siblings, wanting to get to know him—by consuming some sort of beverage. Because Adam and Michael are sharing body—and that means they share a liver too. A bet ensues as to how much it will take to get God’s alleged favorite wasted.

Gabriel’s actually one of the first out, having been convinced that Michael would be a lightweight. Little does he suspect that Benjamin and his wife caught onto what was happening soon after Adam was fed his third long island iced tea and second jager bomb, and began quietly cleansing the alcohol from his system through casual shoulder pats and high fives.

Adam does not know what to make of any of this, but it’s Michael’s family and he wants to make a good impression, so he just goes with it.

Thaddeus, of course, is in charge of music, Gabriel and Esther consume the majority of the cake, and Michael catches the bouquet (he may have cheated after finding out what the bouquet toss is for).

#my thoughts #lowkey might be putting this idea out so it'll leave me alone #midam #supernatural angels #the divine shurley family

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deliciouskoalaphantom · 2 years

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Wedding Photographer Birmingh

Wedding Preparation

youtube

He's popped the question. You have actually chosen a date. And now, you're swimming in a sea of euphoria with no horizons. Good idea, too, since there are actually a thousand things to set up before the big day. You do the research, buckle under and dive in. But you find your fianc?'s ardor for the event itself seems to have actually cooled. It's not that he isn't mad about weding you; after all, he is a great guy, even if he can't tell a Vera Wang from a Gunny Sack. It's that his preparation style is hands-off, to say the least. And preparing a wedding event isn't a job developed for one. What to do? Here are 10 methods to involve him without increasing both of your tension loads: 1) Delegate locations that have a prayer of interesting him. The worst thing you can do is anticipate him to match your 10 to twenty years of feminine knowledge on the relative benefits of buttercream vs. fondant. Here are some possible no locations when trapping a reluctant wedding event coordinator: Selecting the cake frosting Selecting the favors or prefer packaging Selecting the wedding event colours or flower arrangements Then there are the prospective maybes, filled with less threats: Selecting the photographer Selecting the videographer Organizing the practice session supper Organizing the extensive honeymoon Leasing big, tricky products like outside camping tents These are possible yeses, well worth running by your guy: Selecting the DJ or the band Establishing and preserving your wedding event website Researching and choosing charities, if you choose to contribute instead of giving out favors Establishing the carriage, limousine or other transportation arrangements

2) If you ask him to help you choose designs and vendors, narrow down the options. It's a jungle of options out there, enough to provide the most natural-born party coordinator time out. So if you desire his viewpoint on photographers, invites, cakes or flowers, limit the options to 3 or four. He's less most likely to feel overwhelmed, and more likely to seem like an important part of the procedure. Sometimes, it'll feel so great to share the load that you'll be lured to drag him into the buttercream argument in spite of your better impulses. At these times, take a deep breath, count to 10, and call your mom or your housemaid of honor. 3) Ask him straight for help. Let him understand how essential his input is to you, which you can't do it without him. Guys like to be needed. Your frank request for help might be enough to pull him out of his comfort zone and onto your team. 4) Attempt the Art Director/Production Personnel approach. If you think your guy wants to help, however feels uneasy playing "art director," provide him "production staff" tasks. Have him make the payments, get the food or design, handle the leasings, do online comparison shopping, or reserve the hotels and reception halls. These are all tasks that will take a load off your shoulders, while freeing up time for the visual things you most likely take pleasure in and he doesn't. 5) Get a calendar and put all the planning in white and black. Your fianc? most likely doesn't have the first clue in what goes into a wedding event. Get your wedding event coordinator, write everything down, and reveal him. You'll both most likely be able to recognize locations that interest him when he gets over the shock. Make lists of the important things you have actually each agreed to do, and cross them off as they get done. At the very least, he'll be far more encouraging when he sees what you're going through. 6) Weave his household heritage/ethnicity/traditions into the ceremony. What did his parents do? He might be amazed at the question, however it could lead somewhere important. He might ask his parents about their wedding event, and find your wedding event subsequently enriched. Look through their wedding event album together. Are his ancestors German, Polish, Italian, Croatian, Asian? Integrate some old-world traditions into your ceremony. 7) Don't bring him in prematurely. Treat your fianc? as a bit of a pinch hitter. Sure, you might be totally mindful that you can shave 5K off your costs by starting your favor crafts and bookings 18 months ahead of time. But if he's like most people, the wedding event will not become real to him up until it draws more detailed. Anticipate him to jump in about 6 months before the real ceremony, and get into a (relative) craze of activity about one month ahead of time. 8) Speak about something besides the wedding event. Guys aren't the only ones who complain about brides-to-be talking of nothing but upcoming nuptials. In some cases, even girlfriends get overwhelmed by all the wedding event chatter. Invest a long time alone chatting about anything however the wedding event. See a silly motion picture, split a hot fudge sundae, or see a basketball game. Do something spontaneous that reminds you both of why you chose to wed in the first place. 9) Check your subtext for hidden meanings. Tempting as it might be, ensure you're not utilizing your fianc? as a coin-toss tool (ever noticed how people flip coins to find out what they really desire?). When you request for his viewpoint, take it seriously. And when you provide him ownership of a job, do not second-guess every step. Envision that your fianc? has actually informed you he's going to prepare a dream team in his dream football league, and it's going to cost him $20K to participate. Now picture that he's informed you your help is very essential to him. You 'd be a little hesitant to give opinions, right? A few of your concepts might sound weak, even to your own ears. Ideally he 'd invite your thoughts, however odd it felt for you to venture them. When it comes to the wedding event, now picture your fianc? feels kind of like that. 10) Remember that males become wedding event professionals by having one. Opportunities are, your sweetie will open his eyes to the marvel of a wedding event by the time the increased petals are tossed. Forever after, he'll be analyzing friend's receptions with a practiced eye, and anticipating the next excuse for an Actually Big Function. Keep him around, and count on throwing a top-notch anniversary celebration 10 years down the roadway. 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noona-clock · 3 years

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What’s Your Sign?: Capricorn

Genre: Dance Studio!AU

Pairing: Jaebum x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,693

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

It was clear he didn’t want to be here.

And by ‘he’ you meant the dark-haired guy in your dance lesson whose facial expression betrayed that he would rather be anywhere else and doing anything else right now.

But you were a dance instructor. You’d been teaching for almost five years by now, so you had seen your fair share of begrudging students.

(Though, if you were being completely honest with yourself, none of the begrudging students you’d had so far had been quite this handsome... but that is absolutely besides the point.)

As you introduced yourself to your new class and began to go over the basics, you mentally prepared yourself to spend a little extra time with him -- the handsome, begrudging student. You’d discovered that some one-on-one time with the dancers who didn’t actually want to be dancers went a long way in helping them get more comfortable and enjoy themselves.

Usually, people who had no desire to take your class were being forced by a third party -- for some reason or another -- and it was pretty clear why they had no desire to take your class: their dancing skills left a lot to be desired.

But, only a few minutes into your instructions, you were more than surprised and shocked to see that this guy actually had some natural talent.

A lot of it.

But he also didn’t have a partner, so that one-on-one time you’d prepared for was incredibly easy to manage.

After you’d told everyone to pair off and start practicing the basic waltz square you’d just shown them, you weaved your way through the parquet floor to him with a somewhat cautious smile on your face.

If he wasn’t thrilled to be in your class in the first place, it was safe to assume he wouldn’t be thrilled for you to be his partner, but... there wasn’t much you could do about it now!

“Hi,” you greeted softly when you approached. “I noticed there wasn’t a partner for you, so I’m happy to --”

“Sure,” he muttered.

Of course, his terse interruption made you pause, but you recovered quickly and simply smiled at him. You then stepped closer to him, resting one hand on his shoulder and extending your other arm out to the side so the two of you could get into a waltzing stance.

As soon as he’d slid one hand around your waist and took the other one, grasping your fingers firmly, you waited for him to lead into the four-step box formation.

...And you almost yelped with surprise when he did.

His hold on your waist and fingers quickly became even more firm, and he pushed you subtly but confidently backward, dancing with you smoothly.

You’re not sure why this surprised you so much.

But it did.

And that made you a little uneasy.

“So,” you breathed, clearing your throat quietly. “What’s your name?”

His gaze had been inconspicuously aimed at the floor, most likely watching his feet, but it shifted to look at you when you asked your question.

“Jaebum,” he answered without hesitation, though his voice was still very brusque.

“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a slight dip of your chin. “I’m Y/N.”

“Yes, I know,” he murmured. “You introduced yourself about five minutes ago.”

You raised your eyebrows, unsure if you were bewildered or offended by his incredibly impolite response.

Probably a bit of both.

“...Right,” you said. But you had to maintain your composure and civility, so you added, “What brings you here?”

Rather than answering quickly and succinctly like he had previously, Jaebum simply furrowed his brow at you.

“You just seem less than enthusiastic, so I was curious as to why you’re here in the first place,” you explained, figuring you could at least be honest to counteract his almost-rudeness.

His forehead smoothed out, and he tilted his head to signal that you did have a point.

“One of my best friends is getting married in a few months, and he wants the wedding party to do this... dance routine.”

“And you’re not too excited about it?”

Jaebum shook his head.

“Well, if it helps, you’re a really good dancer.”

Again, Jaebum furrowed his brow at you, shooting you a confused, sidelong glance. “I am?”

He sounded genuinely perplexed which made you genuinely perplexed. He really didn’t know? Had he never taken one single dance class before?

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “You’re a natural.”

And naturally gorgeous, you thought.

Oh my god, why did you think that?

Besides the fact that it was true, of course.

To distract yourself from that thought, you added, “You haven’t taken any sort of class before?”

“No, never.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you replied with the tiniest smirk you could muster. “You’ve barely even looked at your feet this whole time, and you haven’t tripped me once.”

Of course, Jaebum instinctively looked down at his feet and almost immediately stumbled.

“See? Once you looked down and thought too much about it, you messed up. You’ve got instinct.”

An expression of clear discomfort flashed across his face, and rather than insisting that you knew what you were talking about, you simply kept silent. You were only planning on continuing this exercise for another minute or so, and you would rather not make him any more uncomfortable than he already clearly was.

But when that minute was up... you realized... that you didn’t want to stop dancing with him.

Oh, boy.

A student who had made you feel uneasy twice in the first half-hour of class.

That was quite unprecedented.

And... very disturbing.

When the two of you got to a good stopping point, you murmured under your breath that it was time to move on.

Jaebum responded immediately, pausing his movements and loosening his hold on your hand and waist to allow you to step away.

“All right, great job,” you said, turning away to face the rest of the class and doing your best to avoid any sort of eye contact with Jaebum. “I know it may seem repetitive, but this is the foundation of a waltz. You need to be really familiar with these steps, know how to do them in your sleep, before you can move on.”

You had everyone go through the steps on their own while you played different music tracks, helping them find the four-count beat in each song and showing they could waltz to really any style of music.

All in all, it was a pretty typical class.

Except for Jaebum.

You had tried to get him -- and the way he’d briefly made you feel -- out of your mind, and while you had been mostly successful when you hadn’t been looking at him... you had been the opposite of successful when you had.

And once the hour was up, you found yourself doing something you truly hadn’t ever expected to do. The thought had never crossed your mind, yet you couldn’t stop your body from walking toward Jaebum, an anxious grin plastered on your lips.

“I was just --” you began, though you were quickly interrupted by a departing student who thanked you for a great class. “Oh, sure, you’re welcome.”

You pressed your lips together then, your gaze following the student and waiting for her to vanish through the studio door.

When she did, you looked back to Jaebum and saw that he was already looking at you, his gaze expectant. You jumped a little -- though, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised that he was looking at you. You had been just about to say something to him.

After letting out a breathless chuckle, you inhaled sharply and continued on from earlier. “I was just wondering -- you said your friend is wanting to do some sort of routine? For his wedding?”

Jaebum nodded. “During the reception. The bridal party is all going to do a... ballroom dance... thing.”

“Do you know if the choreography is finished?”

“I believe so,” he answered, slightly lowering his brows.

You gulped.

“I -- I mean, I would be happy to help you learn it if you want to -- have the time. You could stay after class or come in whenever you’re free. I can shift things around if I need to, this job is pretty flexib --”

“Okay.”

And you were surprised yet again.

He had actually said yes? Even though you definitely sounded a bit like a bumbling idiot right now?

“Oh, good!” you said with a relieved sigh, your lips spreading into a grin.

“I can’t stay much longer today, but if you have time tomorrow?”

For some reason your instinct was to reply immediately -- in the positive, of course -- but you forced yourself to actually pull up your schedule in your head to look and make sure.

“I’m very free in the afternoon,” you told him after a few moments. “From after lunch until about four.”

Jaebum nodded tersely and said, “I can be here at two” before murmuring his thanks and heading toward the exit.

You stood there, in the same exact spot, for about five minutes after he left, mainly because you were dumbstruck. You had no idea why you’d done that, and you had no idea why you were so relieved (and excited) that he had accepted your offer.

You had literally never offered private lessons -- private free lessons! -- to a student before. Many students had requested them, absolutely, but you had never offered.

The only reason you could think of as to why you’d done this was because Jaebum was so... intriguing. He fit the stereotype almost exactly for the “Perfect Man.” Tall, dark, and handsome. Strong and silent.

...And did you mention handsome?

Very handsome.

But that was actually more of a reason not to give him private lessons. You wanted to spend more time with him, of course. But you shouldn’t.

You really, really, really shouldn’t.

Rather than wait in jittery anticipation for Jaebum to show up, you spent the first part of your day keeping as busy as you could.

You had two classes basically back-to-back in the morning, which definitely helped keep your mind off the perfectly handsome man arriving at the studio in the early afternoon. And once those classes finished, you took a lunch break and headed to a nearby deli for one of your favorite sandwiches.

Between lunch and Jaebum’s arrival time, you decided to clean the entire studio from top to bottom because that was just what you did when you were stressed or nervous: you cleaned.

A small cleaning crew visited the studio once a week to keep the floors and mirrors gleaming, of course, but it had been a little while since you’d wiped down your office and deep cleaned the reception area.

You dusted and vacuumed and scrubbed and decluttered and even rearranged some furniture just to change things up -- for almost two hours.

And it wasn’t until a quarter to two that you realized you’d made a rather large mistake.

Cleaning and rearranging furniture for two hours was hard work, and now -- fifteen minutes before Jaebum was set to arrive -- you found yourself exhausted and sweaty.

I mean, you were exhausted and sweaty a lot. Obviously. You were a dance teacher.

But the exhausted and sweaty parts of your day were always at the end of class, after you’d done all the work, not at the beginning.

...And your classes typically did not involve an incredibly good-looking man whom you were nervous about spending time with.

After putting away the cleaning supplies in the closet, you quickly ran into the bathroom to splash some water on your face. You then headed into your office and dug around in your bag for the emergency vial of perfume you kept in there -- just in case.

Thank goodness you did because it really came in handy in this moment.

Just as you stepped out of your office and back into the studio, closing the door behind you, you heard the clack of footsteps on the dance floor.

“Hello?” a soft but deep voice called out.

You jumped a little, your gaze snapping over to the studio entrance and landing on Jaebum.

A quick glance to the clock above the mirrors showed you that he was almost ten minutes early -- and that only heightened your intrigue.

You loved a man who was early.

“Hi!” you blurted out suddenly, realizing you hadn’t yet answered him. “Hi, come on in. Welcome.”

Jaebum reached into his pocket as he walked over to you, retrieving his phone and tapping on the screen with a wrinkled forehead. “My friend sent me the video of the choreography,” he muttered, his eyes flashing up at you briefly over his phone screen.

“Oh, perfect,” you grinned. You came to a stop in front of him, resting your hands on your hips as you waited for him to find the video and show you.

“Here,” he mumbled before doing just that -- turning his phone around and showing you the video.

You leaned in, and only then did you realize this was a bad idea.

Obviously, watching something on a person’s phone meant you had to be standing rather close to that person, leaning in until your heads were almost touching.

And that’s exactly what was happening right now.

You were standing rather close to Jaebum, your heads almost touching.

And, boy, did he smell amazing.

It took almost every ounce of willpower in you to concentrate on the video and not on how amazing he smelled.

When the video finished, you took a step back, hoping you hadn’t backed away from him too obviously. If you were going to be learning this choreography together, you certainly didn’t want him to think you couldn’t stand being close to him. Because that wasn’t even true!

It was just... difficult. In a good way. Kind of.

“That seems fairly straightforward,” you said, pushing all these thoughts out of your mind as best as you could.

“Yeah?” Jaebum asked, turning to look at you, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Absolutely. You want to give it a shot?”

He nodded and took off his jacket, hanging it up on the rack by the door before joining you in the middle of the dancefloor. He set up his phone against the mirror, and you began guiding him through the choreography, step-by-step.

Only a few minutes in, and Jaebum stopped you. “How... how do you know the routine already? We watched it once, and you’re not even referring back to the video.”

A frown curved your lips, and you lifted your shoulders into a shrug. “I... don’t know? I just remember it.”

“Seriously?” he asked with a soft chuckle of disbelief. “How?”

“I don’t know,” you repeated. “I’ve always been this way, with dance especially. I can just picture it in my mind.”

“So, you have a photographic memory.”

...How had you never realized that before?

“I guess so?” you chuckled. “I just never thought it was different than what anyone else could do.”

A half-smile tugged at Jaebum’s lips as he got back into the dancing position, and he murmured, “No. I absolutely cannot do that.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m the dance teacher,” you retorted, trying to suppress a smirk.

He laughed softly, and you ignored the fluttering in your heart.

You spent the next hour and a half going through the first part of the routine, and even though Jaebum claimed he wasn’t able to learn choreography like you did, he still caught on quickly.

“No, you’re honestly doing a great job,” you assured him after deciding to stop for the day. “I told you, you’re a natural dancer. You have instinct!”

Jaebum simply shook his head, but you saw the smile he was trying to hold back.

As he went back toward the door to retrieve his jacket, he glanced over his shoulder at you and said, “Are you free to keep going? Go over the rest of the routine?”

“Absolutely! I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that for a wedding.”

“What if it was a birthday party?”

“Yes, maybe.”

You heard Jaebum’s deep, low chuckle, and even though you’d just spent over an hour touching him and dancing with him and being extremely close to him, the sound of his laugh still sent a shiver down your spine.

What was this guy doing to you?

“What does your schedule look like?” he asked as he slipped his jacket back on.

“Oh, here -- let me write it down for you,” you said, taking a step toward your office.

“Or --” Jaebum blurted out.

You paused, raising your eyebrows and shifting your gaze to him.

“Or you could... just text it to me.” He still had his phone handy from playing the dance video on repeat during the lesson, and he held it up as to emphasize his suggestion.

“Oh!” you chirped. “Well -- I mean, yeah, sure. That -- that works.”

Jaebum opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped himself. He narrowed his eyes slightly at you and said, “If I just tell it to you, will you remember it without having to write it down?”

Your eyes widened with minor panic. “...Yes?” you replied uncertainly even though you were absolutely certain you could do that.

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle and shook his head.

After he told you his phone number, he murmured his thanks for the lesson and then headed through the door without another word.

You waited approximately ten seconds before scrambling to your office, fishing your phone out of your bag, and quickly entering the number into your contacts.

You wouldn’t have forgotten it, but... still. You didn’t want to take any chances. It wasn’t every day that an incredibly attractive and fascinating guy gave you his phone number.

Not that you would use it for anything other than sending him your schedule.

But. Yeah.

Jaebum was absolutely incredibly attractive and fascinating.

Either Jaebum was not a busy man or he...

Well, you weren’t actually sure what the other most viable option was.

Because the only things you could think were that he just really wanted to learn this dance routine for the wedding reception... or he just really wanted to spend time with you.

And that was definitely just wishful thinking.

Either way, Jaebum was -- apparently -- able to fit in a private lesson whenever your schedule allowed.

Did he not work? Or was he taking a lot of time off for this? Or maybe his job allowed him to be flexible like yours did.

There were so many questions you wanted to ask him and so little courage you had to actually ask them.

When he came back two days after your first private lesson, you began the lesson with those questions still occupying your thoughts but ended it with another question on your mind entirely.

And, for some reason (seemingly everything about Jaebum was a mystery, I guess, including your reactions to him), you found the question tumbling from your lips as he was putting his jacket back on to leave.

You had just spent another hour and a half teaching him the second half of the choreography; another hour and a half touching and dancing with him. Maybe that had bolstered your courage enough?

“Why do you not want to do this?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “The dance at the wedding.”

Jaebum paused for a moment before turning to face you. “I just... What -- what do you mean?”

You felt your cheeks warms, but you continued on. “You were just so... not happy to be in that first class, and... I don’t know. Whenever I bring it up, you get this look on your face.”

His eyebrows flew halfway up his forehead. “I do?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled.

He stood there just for a second before letting out a sigh and taking a few steps toward you. “To be honest, I’m not thrilled about having to dance in front of a room full of people I don’t really know.”

While you couldn’t exactly relate to the sentiment, you still understood what it was like to be scared to do something. Or, at the very least, be uncomfortable about it.

“You’re going to do a great job,” you assured him, your heart starting to skip a beat here and there as he got closer to you.

Seriously? You had just been dancing with him. Touching him.

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you,” he said, shaking his head. “But... I’m just not... confident about it. And I don’t like that.”

Jaebum was such the epitome of the Strong and Silent type -- so far, at least -- that you couldn’t even imagine him not being fully confident in himself. And the way he danced definitely wasn’t something to be insecure about it!

“I don’t know,” he added with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t see the point in doing a choreographed dance at a wedding.”

Okay, now that made you laugh.

“Because it’s fun,” you chuckled. “Receptions are basically just a big party, and most parties involve dancing, right?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged. “But they don’t have to. And you can dance without doing some full-fledged routine.”

“This is true,” you agreed, though it was mainly just to appease him.

“In my opinion, weddings should be about the marriage. The relationship. The vows you make. Not cutting a cake or a DJ playing viral songs no one really wants to hear.”

...Well. You couldn’t argue with him there.

“So, when it’s your turn to get married, you don’t even need to have a reception.”

And your heart was acting funny again. Thinking about Jaebum getting married both made you hopeful that it would be your wedding, as well, and upset that -- realistically -- it would not be. You were just his dance teacher, and he was only taking lessons until the wedding. It was highly unlikely he would come back to continue his education, and even though you had his phone number now... why would you ever have a reason to use it?

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I absolutely plan on eloping. Or only inviting my family and having just a small ceremony.”

“Ah, good. Now I know not to be offended when I don’t receive an invitation.”

Um... okay? Why? Had you just said that?

Thankfully, Jaebum simply smiled that tiny half-smile of his and let out a soft chuckle.

Was it weird that after spending time with Jaebum only three times you already knew his signature smile?

Despite the fact you had taught Jaebum the entire dance backwards and forwards and there was literally nothing else you could do to help him, he continued to request private lessons. He continued to show up whenever you had a free hour or two, no matter the time or day.

And while this behavior would usually suggest some sort of romantic feelings on his part, he also continued to be Strong and Silent.

He talked to you during your lessons, of course, but he was never talkative. He was always polite, but he wasn’t super... friendly.

So, in conclusion, you were still as mystified and confused by Jaebum as ever.

He didn’t like dancing but he was amazing at it.

He didn’t need you to teach him anymore but he still showed up at your studio.

You just wished you could peek into that brain of his -- just for a minute! -- to see what he was thinking.

And, because you were his teacher, you never felt comfortable asking why. Why was he still asking for lessons when he didn’t need them? Why was he always so guarded around you? Why did he never ask about your personal life?

I swear, if Jaebum ever asked if you had a boyfriend, your heart would absolutely combust.

Maybe one day you would ask him all those questions, but by then, he wouldn’t be coming to your classes any longer, and what would be the point?

Apparently, you were thinking too much about all of this because, all of a sudden, Jaebum’s voice broke through the haze in your mind.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice forceful enough to make it obvious it wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

“Sorry,” you replied hastily with a shake of your head. “Zoned out.”

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked as he stood by the coat rack, getting ready to put his jacket back on before he left with hardly a word.

That had become his routine after every class, and you had come to expect nothing different.

“Hmm? Oh -- no, sorry. What did you say?”

“I said the wedding is this weekend, so I won’t need to come back any more.”

...Oh.

That was not what you wanted to hear.

“Oh,” you replied, doing your best to sound... well, not upset about it. “Well, I know you’re going to do an amazing job --”

“I’m more nervous than I thought I would be,” he interrupted.

You froze, your mouth slightly hanging open and your unspoken words hanging from your lips.

But then you quickly pulled yourself together and said, “You are?”

He nodded tersely.

But he didn’t elaborate.

So, you bit. “...Why?”

“Because I know how to dance it with you, and what if it’s different with someone else as my partner?”

“I mean, yeah, it’ll be different,” you confirmed. “But you know the steps through and through. Even if the bridesmaid is a terrible dancer, you’ll be able to carry her through it, I promise.”

Jaebum let out a sigh and his head tilted forward, his chin practically touching his chest.

“You’ll be fi --”

“What I really wanted to say is that I wish it could be you and not someone else,” he said, interrupting you again in a quiet but strong voice.

...You stared at him.

And blinked.

“...Excuse me?”

Without hesitating, Jaebum strode over to you, only stopping when he was as close to you as he was while you’d danced.

You tilted your head to look up into his eyes, though yours were still too wide with shock to say anything.

“I... I feel more comfortable dancing with you than doing... anything else. And the reason I kept asking to come back even after you taught me the whole dance is because... I just wanted to be with you.”

Okay, you were fairly certain you were no longer breathing.

You certainly couldn’t speak at the moment, so it was very possible that your heart and lungs had just stopped working.

“You are... incredible,” he continued. “Confident and talented and kind and beautiful.”

You repeated the word ‘beautiful’, though you couldn’t even hear your own voice so you must have simply mouthed it.

...Was he really saying all this to you?

To you?

And since it was obvious you weren’t going to actually say anything yet, Jaebum continued.

“You’re why I haven’t stopped coming back. I only joined your class because my friend practically forced me; he’s one of my closest friends, and I would do anything for him, but I truly could not care less about this dumb wedding dance. I would have happily fumbled my way through it if you hadn’t been so... wonderful.”

Okay, at this point, you kind of felt like you were more shocked to hear this many words coming out of his mouth at once. You’d been teaching Jaebum for almost three months, and you were fairly certain he hadn’t said more than two sentences back-to-back.

And you, who normally had no trouble speaking, could only reply with a whispered, “...Really?”

Jaebum simply nodded, and you felt more at ease. A simple nod was much more in character.

But you had no idea what else to say because there was too much you wanted to say.

Apparently, your racing thoughts showed through on your face because Jaebum stopped waiting for you to say something. “I... don’t really want to invite you to be my date to the wedding since... I’m a groomsman and all. You would have to sit by yourself, and I don’t want to make you do that.”

Ah, so, he was thoughtful, too.

“So... maybe you’d like to meet up after the wedding? I mean, like, go out. Not meet up. Go out. On a... date.”

“Yes,” you replied, finally able to force some actual words out of your mouth. “Yes, I would love to. Please.”

And then, Jaebum’s lips curved into a smile.

A real smile.

A full-on, teeth-showing smile -- not the half-smile you’d gotten used to.

Your heart stopped.

I mean, it felt like it stopped.

And you were immensely glad he hadn’t smiled like this before because oh my god. You wouldn’t have been able to go on teaching him. You would’ve fainted.

Even now, you had to reach out and grab a hold of his arms to steady yourself.

But Jaebum must have thought you were going in for the hug, so took another step closer to you and slid his arms around your waist, pressing his fingers into the small of your back and enveloping you in his embrace.

It took you approximately .0001 seconds to melt into him, feeling the strong wall of his chest and the secure cage of his arms around you.

You’d danced with him countless times by now. His hands had held your waist for hours, and yet... You had never experienced this sensation before.

And you knew right then and there that you never wanted to live another day without experiencing it again.

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, SAGITTARIUS, AQUARIUS, PISCES

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