#with which people would understandably not want to pose for a photograph

[bancaishi]

fun fact: the chinese cobra is a highly venomous snake that can be very aggressive when cornered; however, it usually prefers to escape confrontation with humans when it can

[stylescine]

no because i have had this thought since this years met and i NEED to tell someone

imagine like influencer!reader who is doing interviews at the met (kinda like emma chamberlain) and she’s like a very known fan of harry (and was very open ab having a crush on harry online because she was so sure this man would never see it) and she interviews him and is lowk nervous because….. he’s harry styles and maybe he somehow (definitely) KNOWS. she has a massive crush on him and just

basically that!!! so if you could could you write something w that? i’ve had the idea for months it was driving me crazy

lingering

Summary: Everyone knows Y/N has a crush on Harry. But she didn't expect him to know about it too. She could have never imagined things to unfold this way...

Warnings: Y/N has a very obvious crush on harry, fangirling ig???, Harry is a tease, suggestive language, anxious Y/N, oh Harry is also a huge flirt, kind of a fast pace way to a one night stand (no graphic description)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Gosh, I love that idea!! Influencer!Y/N x Harry is one of my favourite dynamics ever. This turned out way longer than planned but I hope you still have fun with it!

Masterlist | Request

The Met Gala was the event of the year. For everyone. Not only for her. But for her it meant so much more. It was her first opportunity to make the jump from being a simple Influencer to being a real presence in the world of fame and celebrities. Of course, she wasn't just seeking fame and attention, but more possibilities. Open up new ways of life for herself and–

There was a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around in an instant, looking at a familiar PR manager she had talked to a few weeks ahead of the gala.

"I'm so glad you could make it. We were really blown away by the podcast you did and we're excited to see how the interviews on the red carpet will turn out," the blonde woman said, giving her a soft smile. She was wearing a tight black dress, a clipboard in hand, but the blush on her cheeks, combined with the small beads of sweat on her forehead, were the only things telling of today's pressure on her.

Y/N could understand. She had paced up and down in her hotel room earlier today, changing her outfit three times and making sure every little strand of her hair would be in place perfectly. Today was not for imperfections. Today was a step into the future – hopefully.

"I need to thank you for inviting me. This opportunity is really one of a kind and–"

"I'm so sorry, dear," the manager interrupted her as she fumbled around in her small Valentino bag, following the ringing of her phone. "No problem," Y/N replied, giving her a reluctant smile.

She could hear the camera shutters go off in the distance, probably due to the arrival of the first guests. Her palms were growing sweaty. She was getting closer to her "big" moments. Soon, she would be talking to all these famous people, ones she had always looked up to, others she had admired for years.

"It's time to go," the manager said quickly, pushing Y/N into the direction of the carpet. The camera man followed close behind, probably being on her tail the entire day. A microphone was pushed into her hand as well as she stepped out onto the long red carpet, hundreds of photographers waiting on the sides. Their lenses were focused on the few celebrities already on the carpet.

Ryan Reynolds was one of them which made her feel giddy inside already.

But the real surprise came around the corner just a moment later. Flashing lights were going off left and right as he appeared in his lace outfit. It was way more see-through than she could have handled in any other situation.

Harry Styles looked stunning.

Her grip around the microphone became tighter as she watched him pose in front of the cameras, earring dangling on his sides, his hair styled perfectly.

A part of her wanted to rush over immediately. Ask him a million questions and record all of it. Because when would she ever be face to face with the Harry Styles again?

Another part of her, a much stronger one, felt the urge to run backstage and escape this moment. She was way too afraid to embarrass herself in front of her biggest celebrity crush. The worst thing was – everyone knew she had this huge crush on Harry for years. She was quite open when it came to talking with her community about people she thought of as attractive or had a crush on. But she was also usually a thousand miles away from said crushes. It had always been a quiet admiring through her phone screen and giggles exchanged with friends over dinner.

Harry wouldn't know this, of course, but it surely didn't make the situation easier for her.

He seemed to be a walking reminder of what people knew about her and testing her own awkwardness in the process.

Before she could turn around and make her escape to probably lock herself in the bathroom as to not embarrass herself in any way – because that would truly be a tragedy in front of him – he was already right in front of her.

There was the charming, witty smile he was giving his fans or interviewers all the time. His eyes looked a deeper shade of green as she was standing right in front of him. Of course, she had looked at a thousand pictures of him over the last few years, but nothing came close to this moment. Maybe it was the heat that was rushing into her face or maybe the overwhelming urge to present herself from her best side – but it was all so different than she had ever imagined.

Y/N took a long breath. She needed to focus. Or else millions of people would see her shocked expression all over Instagram, Twitter and National TV. So she did what she always did best. Entertain.

She turned towards the camera. "Harry Styles just joined us at the Met Gala!" She said excitedly and none of it was part of her acting. Genuine excitement was bubbling uncontrollably in her belly.

Then she turned back around and shook Harry's hand. It was enough to make her legs wobble for a moment, but she was a grown woman and she would stay calm. On the outside at least.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N."

He knew her name? How did he know her name?

Something had to be wrong. She tried hard to stop herself from pinching her arm in an attempt to wake up from this dream or nightmare – whatever you wanna call it.

"You're looking amazing tonight. Do you mind telling us more about what you're wearing?" She smiled and held the microphone into his direction.

Harry gave her an enthusiastic nod and then started to talk all about the designer of his outfit and how it was composed. She listened carefully, bound to his lips as she had been so many times before through the screen.

He continued to keep eye contact with her, continuously making her nervous. It wasn't his fault. She just wasn't prepared to get any attention at all from him.

"Thank you so much. Are you looking forward to tonight's after show party?" She had so many more questions to ask. About his music. Even about his favourite food. But none of that was expected of her right now and she didn't want to lose herself in the admiration she had kept for that man for so long.

"Definitely. Will you be there too?" Harry tilted his head to the side, slightly – a small sign of curiosity.

The thoughts in her head stopped for a moment. Was he really asking her...? He was just making friendly conversation. Nothing more. The slight smirk in his face was nothing. Nothing to think more about.

"Probably. Maybe we can share a drink if we see each other?" She could feel her palms growing more and more sweaty. Was this really not just a dream?

"That will be on me. See you later then." Then he shook her hand again and she prayed that he wouldn't feel how sweaty she had become. How her nerves were running wild inside her body.

"See you later."

Her face felt like it was on fire just a few hours later. She was looking at herself in the mirror, her hair having turned messy and her eyes almost screaming the truth at everyone.

She was nervous and out of her mind.

The music outside was loud. Giggles and laughter echoed over into the bathroom whenever the door opened and a new woman came in. She had seen so many celebrities today that she had lost count. Some of them asked her if she was alright, if she needed help with her make-up, while others just continued on with their day.

When she was alone for a brief moment, she took a deep breath. "It's gonna be alright," she muttered under her breath before she pushed herself off the sink and went back into the crowded room.

The bar was illuminated with purple lights and that's where she was headed. On her way there, she could see him following her in the corner of her vision.

This was really happening.

"What would you like to drink?" His voice was deep, but loud enough for her to make out his words in the packed room. A shiver ran down her spine when she felt his arm brush hers as he made his way to her side.

Harry leaned against the counter casually, his outfit catching her interest immediately. He had changed into a white shirt with a huge red bow at the front.

And he still looked as good as earlier.

"A Martini is just fine," she answered with a smile, pushing herself to sit on the barstool. Harry ordered two drinks for them, before he sat down on the chair next to her.

"You're enjoying yourself?" His voice was laced with curiosity once more, his hand resting on the bar. She had a hard time not taking a closer look at the rings adorning his fingers.

"Oh yeah, a lot. What about you?"

"The evening is about to get a lot better now that I finally found you," he admitted with a low chuckle and accepted the drinks from the bartender when he came back over.

Y/N could feel her head spinning. What did she do to get all this attention from him? Did he know what he was doing to her? Did he know about her crush on him?

"Those are some pretty heavy words if you acknowledge the fact that we have never met before today," she replied, a simple attempt to cool down herself and ground them both in reality again. Or more so herself.

"That's true, but I like to make people happy."

She almost choked on her drink. He had to know something. How would he know that talking to her would make her day?

Knowing that Harry Styles had probably seen a video of her made her feel even more dizzy.

She needed to loosen up. This would be her only chance at spending an evening with her favourite singer and long-time celebrity crush. Another sip from the Martini as a way to gather some liquid courage as quickly as possible.

"Me too. I hope talking to me makes you just as happy as it makes me," she answered with a smile, gathering all the confidence she had.

Harry's lovely smile as he took a sip from his straw was all she needed as confirmation. Maybe she was in for a good time if she came out of her shell and was able to push her anxiety to the back of her mind.

"It definitely does. I've seen your video on 2010's fashion just a few days ago. It was a really good watch."

She couldn't hold back her huge smile. Harry had seen her videos and liked them. That was more than she had ever hoped for. More than she had ever allowed herself to dream about!

“Oh my god, that means a lot to me, I-“

“I’m so glad you didn’t include my too tight skinny jeans in there, actually. That would have been embarrassing,” Harry joked casually, his eyes wandering from her hands to her mouth and then her eyes.

While his eyes were filled with joy and curiosity, his gaze still seemed to keep her trapped under his spell. There was something undeniably charming and menacing about Harry Styles.

She had known it all along, but seeing it in real life, actually being under said spell, was a different experience entirely.

"I believe they still looked decent," she admitted with a small shrug, taking another sip from her drink.

"You certainly don't look decent tonight. That can only be described as stunning."

She was so taken aback by the compliment that she was close to spitting out her drink. Her hand wrapped tighter around her glass and she was thrown into a spiral of nerves and anxiety. Was Harry Styles straight up flirting with her? He definitely was and she had no idea how to act.

"Have you looked at yours-"

"I don't need to look at myself if I can look at something better." His voice had grown deeper and he moved closer ever so slightly.

She was at a loss for words now. Where was this going?

But she quickly decided that she liked it, despite her initial anxiety.

So Y/N took a step closer as well, her fingers brushing past Harry's as she was setting down her drink on the counter.

"You're really a flirt," she whispered, wondering if he had even heard her over the loud music.

But his eyes seemed fixed on her lips, a smirk resting on his own.

"As you have suspected in a video or two..."

It sent a shiver straight down her spine to get more and more confirmation that he had been watching her stuff. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and she wanted to let him do whatever he wanted.

This was what she had been waiting for.

"Maybe you can prove a bit more of my assumptions right?" She replied, fingers brushing over his forearm, under his sleeve and feeling the soft skin. She wanted to see him without the top. She wanted to finally see that naked chest up close, take a look at every little line of his tattoos and count them all.

"Why would we waste any more time then?" He grinned, his right hand coming up to wrap around her wrist slowly. He took her hand away from his skin, intertwining their fingers slowly before he slid off his chair.

They left their drinks unfinished.

But there was more important business to get to.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What do you think about the "kill notice" about the new Catherine pic? I looked at the picture, there doesn't seem to be any distortion or manipulation. Some filters have been used but nothing is misaligned or photoshopped in or out. No dodgy shadows. Wtf is with the reporters agreeing with it?? Is this a shady attempt to force Catherine to be out in the public sooner than she would like to be? Apparently the controversy is about her left hand and somewhere along Charlotte's left sleeve. Part of me feels it's because reporters know she is now well and are angry she isn't back to work and giving them content. But, the picture agencies pulled the pic, so what's with that?? Such an unnecessary controversy.

I think it’s much ado about nothing. A lot of what people are point out as edited can be explained away, such as:

Kids are wiggly so of course they’d be blurry.

It’s a still from a video or a Live Photo.

Kate isn’t wearing her rings because maybe her fingers are still swollen from all the post-op meds and steroids, or maybe she just doesn’t want to wear them.

It's a program/app on William’s phone that stitches together the best parts in a sequence of photos to fix a squirming kid. (Like Google’s Best Take feature, in which case it’s AI, not photoshop.)

But wait, what about that pap pic last week of Kate with all weight in her face looking unrecognizable, and now in this photo she looks like herself? It’s about camera angles and body positions. There’s a pose - I call it the goose pose - where if you tilt your upper body forward just slightly and push your head/chin all the way forward, the extra weight in your midsection, neck, and face disappears from the camera if the photo is being taken from the front. (When you do this pose and the picture is taken from the side, you look like a goose.)

It’s great that the wires all have standards and that they take it seriously but the “kill” request illustrates a bigger problem: that in todays age of photo editing, filters, and AI, is any photo we see real and original? Once you permit minor edits like removing dust (which is an AP allowance), it opens the door for other edits and who’s the authority to say what’s right or wrong? So it’s a sticky line.

The reporters are writing about it because they have nothing else to write about. The media makes a ton of money off Kate and the children (more than they care to admit) so of course they’re going to pick up on this and write about it. They’re desperate for Kate content because she sells.

[[Interrupting now to say that I've just seen the update from KP of Kate (scroll to the end) acknowledging the edits and apologizing for any issues. It's bullshit she had to do this but I understand why she did it: she's proud of her photography, it's her own picture she edited and not one from anyone else, and it's overshadowing the Commonwealth Service coverage.]]

I mean, it's no coincidence that a prolific royal fashion blogger notorious for bashing Kate while simultaneously profiting from her appearances and photographs announced she's taking a break to Easter. Other royal events are still happening. Other royals are still working. Other royal families are still working. But that doesn't matter: she makes her money from Kate and when Kate doesn't work, she can't make money. So why bother keeping up the blog?

Anyway, believe what you want to believe about the photograph, but just be ready for all of this to backfire. And trust me, it will backfire.

If it's true that the Sussex Squad is behind this, well, Meghan may work hard but karma works harder. Harry and Meghan's own photoshopping and photo-editing may become equally under fire: Harry's Friar Tuck bald spot is world famous and everyone knows about it, no matter how much photoshop they do.

If it's true that the media and social media is making this a bigger issue than it actually is (which it sounds like, given Kate's newest message), then reap the consequences of your actions: fewer pictures from Kate and fewer pictures of the Wales family. The chances are extraordinarily high that they'll stop sharing pictures of their family now. It's already happened - back in ye olde days, it was custom for the royal family to have a photo call during a ski holiday so the press pack could get their pictures and leave them alone. William and Kate did this in 2016 on a skiing holiday, and boom - immediate criticism. Now no more vacation photos.

If it's true that the reporters picked up on this to force Kate to returning to work sooner than expected, well, I hope Kate retreats further into the cocoon of privacy and doesn't give you the satisfaction of new birthday pictures.

If it's true that this is a sign of how shambolic KP's communications office is, then hopefully the right people learn the right lessons and make more professional decisions. We know Kate will. She always learns from her missteps, even if it takes some time.

If it's true that the wires and the press associations need to revise their rules because everyone edits, I hope they do. Trust me, there are more worrying matters about photo editing and AI manipulation to write and "kill" than a touched-up family photo of the future king's family posted to social media. This is not the hill to stake your professional reputation on.

But I guarantee you that the same people who are making a fuss about these photo edits that EVERYONE does are the same people who are moaning about the dearth of content from the Waleses and they're the same people who scream and shout when the Waleses don't do what they want them to do.

But at the end of the day, it's a family photo taken by a proud husband and dad, who probably made stupid cheesy jokes to make his kids laugh like that, which his wife and their mother edited to make sure everyone looks their best. Everyone does this. It's fucking normal.

It's much ado about fucking nothing and I hope that everyone, most especially the reporters, who fed into the hysteria understand what they've done. They've just signed the execution notice for Waleses family photos.

Kate's apology:

[fuckyeslilkim]

Lil Kim's Squat Pose Is Iconic. Its Photographer Discusses it for the First Time

In a rare interview, Michael Lavine discussed the day he shot Lil Kim’s Hard Core cover, the booklet, and that feisty, nearly 30-year-old poster we just can’t get enough of.

Even though Michael Lavine has photographed OutKast, Ghostface Killah, JAY-Z, Missy Elliott, Foxy Brown and many others, he didn’t start out capturing larger-than-life rap acts. Like multiple moments throughout his career, he just fell into the next phase of artistry, which was deifying a generation of Black storytellers.

Lavine’s interest in photography goes way back. He led his high school’s yearbook committee as the head photographer. Soon after, at Washington’s Evergreen State College, he studied traditional street photography in the style of Robert Frank and Garry Winogrand. While in Washington, he befriended the group responsible for the record label that became Sub Pop, and documented a then-emerging sound that, to this day, continues to inspire chart toppers. He wasn’t interested in being married to any particular genre or group though, because boxing yourself in isn’t the move. “I just never felt comfortable kind of being pigeonholed in anything to my own detriment. It's not good for business to do that,” he said. “You're supposed to kind of dive in, not pull away. But that's just how I was wired. I wanted to do my own thing.”

After fostering the trust of music industry greats (“I started working for Rick Rubin. He was one of my first clients and he hired me to shoot a bunch of his Death American acts because he was starting to do metal at that time,” Lavine recalled) and becoming a Black Book highlight, he fell into shooting some of the biggest rappers on the scene. His knowledge of capturing Black talent helped. “I was very good at skin color and doing warm skin tones and lighting people,” he said. “For some reason, I think there was this problem with white people who didn’t understand how to light Black people, which was just ridiculous.”

In short, he came, he saw, he snapped. Legacies were cemented in the process, most notably with an image of one of the greatest female rappers that has become one of hip-hop’s most beloved and recreated photos — Lil Kim’s iconic squat seen ‘round the world.

Below, the retired photographer gave Okayplayer a rare interview where, for the first time, he discussed the day he shot Lil Kim’s Hard Core cover, the booklet, and that feisty, nearly 30-year-old poster we just can’t get enough of.

This interview, which took place over multiple conversations, has been edited and condensed for clarity and length.

When did you first meet Lil Kim?

The date was 7/30/96. The anniversary just passed.

What was your first impression of her?

My impression overall was she was not like she is, as in the present. She was very quiet and under the thumb of Big Un. Remember Big Un?

Are you talking about Lance “Un” Rivera?

Yeah. He was there. He was the man in charge of her and was kind of in control of the shoot. Kim didn't say a word. I don't think I spoke to her once about anything, but we had a nice rapport in front of the camera. She was great and we made a lot of pictures together, but I felt like there was this circus going on around us and it was just me and her. You get this intimate bond with your subject a lot of times. She's in her lingerie and rolling around on a bed. So, I was trying to be my normal, respectable self, and being professional and making the images with her in tandem.

I would direct her like, "Let's try this. How about coming over here? What if we lean this way?" There were a lot of sets. We had rented a brownstone in Manhattan probably. It was a couple floors. It might have been two floors. So there was a bedroom, a little balcony, a fireplace, and those big doors.

I interviewed Kim last year and she told me she just kind of dropped into the squat pose naturally.

It was very spontaneous. When you're doing photo shoots, at least when I was working, it was an organic process and you let things happen. It's like a creative flow. Whenever you have a creative director there holding out a [composition] like, "Here, do it like this," it just was always bad and kind of nothing. It was like the safest way to get whatever it is that they had in their minds. But to make a great photograph you have to let things happen. You just have to go with it.

There was no layout for her to do that pose. It just was natural. Part of it, I spent a lot of time low angle, meaning I was always kind of lying on the floor, crouching down myself. So, it's possible that one of the reasons she did it was because I was probably sitting on the floor looking up at her because that's kind of how I do. My style was based on the hero, meaning my job was to make people look like heroes with iconic style.

My style was based on making people look cool and giving them lots of options. So, we would take a lot of different kinds of photographs. I used different kinds of lighting. We moved very quickly. A lot of things happened and it was very much an exciting experience. Somebody had a set prop person there bringing flowers. For the cover shot, we had all those flowers in front of the fire, and the bear skin rug we brought that in. It was a normal hip-hop shoot. I was intimidated. It was a very hard day. Everybody was being kind of tough and intimidating, and nobody would talk to me.

Were you scared?

I was never scared, but they all had guns. It's not that I was scared..scared is not the right word. It's more like I felt kind of out of place a little bit. I didn't even speak with Kim. I was dealing with Un mostly, and Un had a lot of ideas. So we were trying to do all the things. I was getting coverage for him. He wanted to have her hold the honey bear. Remember, there's a shot of her holding a honey bear on the black satin sheets? We had a lot of props. I had a props guy. His name was Jerry Schwartz. He was very good and we had brought a bunch of stuff.

So, for example, I remember Puffy came in for a shot and I did one shot with Puffy and Kim together. And Puffy, I worked with him many times. He didn't even say hello to me.

I was just like, “Really? Do you have to be that way? You're so cool you don't want to embarrass yourself talking to the photographer, actually acknowledging him?”

I never really felt at home around Puffy. I think at that time, because I don't think he's like this anymore, but at that time he was — and I know this happened to several other people that I've witnessed throughout their careers — they're really striving. It's very hard at the beginning and they'll push, push, push. They're just about their thing and they don't care about you. So, he was yelling at everybody all the time.

On set that day?

Not that day. Other days.

Oh, just in general?

Just in general. Barking orders. But that day he came in briefly and we did the shot and then he left. There's one shot, I don't know if you've seen it, of them together on a wall. I don't even know why he was there. I can't remember. He had something to do with the record, I guess.

"There was no layout for her to do that pose. It just was natural," Lavine said of the image.

The image came out as the poster, “Lil Kim Coming Soon.” When you're there that day, you have no idea what images are going to stand out. Zero. There's just no way anyone could know. It isn't until there's time to contemplate the session when you edit it and you start to live with the images. And the graphic designer who, I can't remember who it was. Maybe you can find that out.

Maybe.

Let's see if there's a name on here. I don't know. Big Beat records? I don't know who that would've been. Atlantic maybe? I think it was Atlantic Records, no?

Lil Kim was [signed to] Atlantic.

It was Atlantic? Maybe it was, I don't know who it was. Liz Barrett? There were a bunch of people in the Atlantic art department at the time. I could probably look at the invoice.

Do you still have the invoice?

I don't know. Let's see if I do. '96...

If you do, you're the best records keeper of all time.

Yeah, there's Kim and Puffy right there. I have the whole job here. Ed and Carl were my assistants. The location was 24 West 10th Street. That's where we shot it. Here's something for you. Ready for this?

Yes.

So, these are notes from my conversation with the manager. "Little Kim. Female. She's the other woman, somersaults in bedroom, not raunchy. Doorway of bedroom, satin sheets. Blouse, undone. Honey in hair, on bed and on phone. Down pants. Unbuttoning pants. No whips and chains. Classy, sexy, lush, lustful. Candles in the background. Fruits and chocolates." There you go.

The notes Lavine was given prior to the Lil Kim shoot.

So, those were the notes that you were given before the shoot?

Yep. Those were the notes I was given before the shoot.

"Not raunchy" really stands out because I think you conveyed that.

"Not raunchy" — peekaboo, sexy shit.

Oh, man. Well, you did it. You accomplished the goal. And that actually flows really well into my next question, which was what do you believe they were trying to convey with the shoot?

It was funny that they hired me because I was known for not exploiting women in my photos. That was one of the reasons I didn't ever shoot women because back in the day, you were expected to shoot women with clothes off. I refused to do that and I never did it. I think this crouching picture was the raunchiest picture that I had ever done. Actually, that's not true. I did one once. But it was not my normal style, shall I say.

But also, it's an empowering image. I just generally felt uncomfortable sexualizing women throughout my career. That shoot was uncomfortable for me because I had to do that, and I think she was a little unclear as to what she was doing herself. I have no idea. I didn't talk to her. I'm not sure what she was thinking. Years later, I talked to her because we were both well complaining about this image being bootlegged.

She did mention that during our interview. That people were making t-shirts and making their own memorabilia.

It's completely illegal what they're doing, and it's got to be the most bootlegged image of mine. It's like whack-a-mole, you can't stop them. You send out your lawyers and then they just shut down and open with a different name. I could probably go out, spend some time and sue them all and she could, too. Who has time for that? If you have a lawyer and you have a lot of money, you could do that.

That sounds like a lot.

I mean, it's unfortunate. But she was talking about trying to do some merch of her own. The smart thing to do would be to get a deal with Merch Traffic or somebody that does merch, and then they would take care of trying to squash the illegal competition. But I thought that she was going to maybe have that happen this year, but I haven't heard from her.

But the image is just getting more and more famous. It's funny, you never know what kind of resonance an image is going to make and impress upon the culture at the time when you make it. It's rare that there's an instant classic. It's very hard to have that kind of impact these days just because of the nature of social media. Back then, there was a poster and that poster was the only poster. There was no other place to see it but the poster.

Now, it's everywhere.

That image really stands the test of time. Very few images stand the test of time like that image that I've worked on. It's one of my more recognizable images and I have a lot of them.

You do.

So, what can I say? It was a perfectly nice day. She was lovely. We had a nice rapport. The pictures came out great. I continued to work for many years after, and I'm retired now.

What made you jump into hip-hop photography?

Well, that's a funny question because I think my whole life, until recently, has been me falling into things that I wasn't planning on. I was driven to do photography so I was on that path. But if you would've told me my senior year, my fifth year of college, I was going to be shooting rock bands for a living for the rest of my life, I would've said, "Really?" I would've had no idea. But that fifth year [of college] I got a job to shoot a rock band and it just turned into —

The rest of your life?

It turned into the rest of my life. I never said, "I'm going to be a rock photographer." I never said that until I was one. Then, I had no plans on shooting hip-hop. It was an up-and-coming market at the time. I didn't know anything about it. I was friends with Kurt Cobain hanging out at rock shows, and really was unaware of a lot of hip-hop.

I did some hip-hop jobs early. I shot De La Soul, who I loved. I shot a few bands and hip-hop acts that were popular around that time. I got to know a lot of people in the business over time because I worked in it for so long. I was really close with Groovy Lou, who I loved as a stylist. June Ambrose. A lot of people.

But this was a defining moment. That shot, that poster when it came out, it made a lasting impact. It's still gaining speed. At that time, nobody knew who she was.

Did you know who she was?

I might've heard her name but not really. I just got hired on jobs. That's how I learned about people. I listened to the record before anybody else heard it. I got it first. But a lot of people were that way — I would learn about them on the job. That's how you learn because if I'm shooting 100 jobs a year, I don't have time to do anything but the job that's in front of me.

Did you listen to the album before the shoot?

Oh, I'm sure, of course. I don't remember the exact moment I listened to it but I always did. But that was part of the job, and we listened to it all day long during the shoot because that's what we did.

When did you realize that photo was really making waves?

Well, I think it happened over time. Obviously, the poster immediately was like, “OK, that's intense.”

Was it everywhere? Was it all over town?

It was everywhere. And when the poster came out it was powerful. It was a dramatic statement and it sent shock waves immediately. It was clearly influential at the time, I will say that. It was shocking and effective. It put her on the map.

Do you think it put her on the map more so than the cover?

Oh, yeah. The cover, who knows what the cover looks like? Nobody does.

[justforbooks]

Who was Lee Miller?

Why the model-turned-war photographer is finally getting her due

A surrealist with an incisive eye, finding the beauty and absurdity of everyday life. A model who posed for Vogue and sat for Pablo Picasso and Man Ray, but whose fashion career was suddenly cut short. A war photographer who embedded with the US military to chronicle the harrowing events of World War II — and posed defiantly in Hitler’s bathtub on the day of his death.

Lee Miller was an American artist who remade herself many times without straying from the principles that guided her life and career. When she died in 1977, her photographic work had largely been forgotten; her own family was unaware of the scope of her practice, and what she witnessed in the war, until they found her cache of negatives. Now, five decades later, she’s the subject of the Kate Winslet-led biopic “Lee,” which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September, as well as a recent monograph of her work and an exhibition at mega-gallery Gagosian in New York, where some of her prints were for sale.

Her son, photographer Antony Penrose — whose father was the British surrealist painter Roland Penrose, whom Miller married in 1947 — has made it his life’s work to bring attention to his mother’s legacy. He co-directs her archive with his daughter, Ami Bouhassane, and has authored multiple books about Miller, including the most recent, “Lee Miller: Photographs.” For the past decade, he’s consulted on “Lee” as it came together, and has finally begun its run in both the United Kingdom and Spain.

“There were movies proposed and very nearly made before,” Penrose said. “This is the one that we’ve been waiting for, because I feel it is a brilliant rendition of Lee’s life, values and personality.”

He still recalls how “bewildering” it was when he and his late wife, Suzanna, found some 60,000 of her negatives and prints in their attic shortly after Miller’s death. She had developed a unique surrealist way of looking at the world, capturing everyday eccentricities that play with the viewer’s perception: a scratched-up door at a jewelry store becomes a small explosion of sparks; tar spilled on the street glistens darkly like some deep-sea or cave-bound creature.

But her range was staggering. Here was Elsa Schiaparelli supine among two cheetah sculptures, and Marlene Dietrich posing in dramatic sun in the designer’s ruched house coat. Here was a crowd of people spitting on four women, their heads shaved, as they went to trial for accusations of associating with Nazis. Here were the bodies of concentration camp victims in Dachau, and the liberated prisoners standing over a pile of human bones.

“None of us — and that includes my father — knew the scope of Lee’s work, particularly her war work,” Penrose said of his mother. “She deliberately didn’t tell him what was going on, because she didn’t want him to be worried.”

After the war, Miller struggled with depression and alcohol dependency, decades before post-traumatic stress disorder — and its symptoms — was officially recognized. When the occasional curator or art historian would turn up to better understand the depth of her work, Penrose said Miller would deflect the focus and downplay her career. It’s only been through her archive that he was able to understand the life she lived.

“It was a voyage of discovery,” Penrose added. “It was like finding a person that we had not known before — way beyond our kind of understanding and knowledge.”

Reinventing herself

For many years, Miller was remembered primarily for her modeling work in New York and with the reductive label of “muse” during her time in Paris. She sat for Pablo Picasso as he painted her in lurid yellow and green, illustrating her “extraordinary wit and liveliness… and a very bold, confrontational approach to life,” according to Jason Ysenburg, a director at Gagosian and co-curator of the gallery’s show “Lee Miller and Friends”.

She was also often remembered — but not credited — for her portrait collaborations with Man Ray, with whom she was romantically involved and remained friends throughout her life.

“Those images of Lee were as much by Lee as by Man Ray,” added Richard Calvocoressi, the show’s other co-curator.

Miller has been described by many as a supermodel on the cusp in her early twenties, a period just before she met Man Ray. But she was seemingly blacklisted by fashion clients overnight, after a portrait of her by the photographer Edward Steichen was licensed for a Kotex ad promoting menstrual products.

“She absolutely came to a crash stop. Nobody wanted the Kotex girl modeling their frocks,” Penrose said. “She didn’t even know that the photograph was going to be used for that purpose — it was bought through an agency.”

Though Miller used the setback as a sign to shift her practice, sexist social structures continued to shape her career. Art historians and curators of the 20th century relegated female surrealists — many of whom appear in Miller’s images, like the painter Leonora Carrington and the photographer Dora Maar — to the sidelines of the movement when they were, in actuality, crucial figures; Penrose recalls that his own father referred to them more as “muses” than artists in their own right, despite their prolific outputs.

But despite the imbalances within their group, Miller’s time with her friends ahead of World War II was seemingly idyllic. She’d left Paris in 1932 for New York when her relationship with Man Ray ended, and then unexpectedly married Egyptian businessman Aziz Eloui Bey and moved to Cairo. When she spent the summer of 1937 back in Paris and met Roland, it sparked a two-year affair (and series of love letters when they were apart), that eventually resulted in the dissolution of her marriage.

Some of Miller’s emblematic images of the period show their vacations across the south of France from beach outings with Roland, Picasso and Maar and the model Ady Fidelin, to a picnic that has drawn comparisons to Édouard Manet’s famed painting “Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe” as a topless Fidelin is pictured alongside Man Ray, the poet Paul Éluard and artist Nusch Éluard.

But as Ysenburg points out, the tumult of the era had already begun — Nazism brewed in Germany and the Spanish Civil War broke out, prompting Picasso’s monumental and career-defining work “Guernica” which was painted the same year Miller returned to Paris.

“It was a community that in the sense that they were friends and lovers,” Ysenburg explained. “It seemed a very carefree time for them in a world that was changing very quickly.”

She saw ‘what we’re missing’

Many artists fled Europe in the 1940s, and Miller could have gone back to New York to safety, Penrose said. But she’d settled down with Roland in London and refused to leave, instead becoming a photojournalist for British Vogue, documenting women who were contributing to the war efforts, and taking both fashion and street images during the Blitz.

Later, she was accredited as an official correspondent with the US armed forces — one of just four such female photographers. During this period, in Normandy and in Munich she worked closely with the Life photojournalist David E. Scherman. Together, they entered Hitler’s apartment with soldiers on April 30, 1945, the same day that Hitler shot himself in his bunker in Berlin. Just that morning, Miller and Scherman had taken photographs in Dachau; Miller tracked mud from the concentration camp all over the apartment’s floor before stripping down to pose in the bathtub. She took the same photo of Scherman, who was Jewish, as well.

“Those boots carried her that morning around the concentration camp, and now she’s grinding the filth of that place into Hitler’s nice clean bathroom,” Penrose said. “They prove that she’s not there as a guest in his house. She’s a victor.”

Even as Miller faced the harrowing effects of the war across Europe — sights that would take a toll on her in its aftermath — she still maintained her keen artist’s eye. After all, she believed there was nothing “more surrealist, more mad, more nightmarish” than the war, according to Calvocoressi.

“Even in the most dangerous and demanding circumstances, she’s still looking out for weird, quirky images,” Penrose said. “I find that that so endearing — the hallmark of her artistry is just to see what we’re missing.”

Miller took her last assignment for Vogue in the early 1950s, as Penrose notes that she could no longer meet deadlines because of her declining mental health. But she didn’t stop photographing, taking some 1,000 photographs of Picasso as Roland worked on his biography, which published in 1958.

Penrose said that throughout the course of her career, she was always “looking for the metaphor” in her surroundings. Of the many poetic moments she captured, one took place in front of the Vienna Opera House in Austria’s capital in late 1945 amid the lingering destruction of war. Framed by twisted metal support beams and rubble, the soprano Irmgard Seefried is photographed singing an aria from the Italian opera “Madame Butterfly,” in what Penrose believes to be an image set up by Miller — who captured her with arms outstretched, completely in silhouette.

“In a way, it’s a reversal, because you would have expected the singer to be beautifully lit from all kinds of sources.” Penrose explained.

“Gone is the costume. gone is any kind of glamorization… what we have is this absolute passion, about the triumph of art over destruction.”

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[umbrvx]

i like ur art. its great and interesting!! i really like your artstyle and i really like the way u draw hsy, yjh, and kdj. you captured them so well in terms of vibes/character. also i was wondering do u have any advice to improve on drawing anatomy/poses/faces?

wahh thank you so much...!! i feel like im still trying to figure them out in a lot of ways but i do really like ironing out my visual interpretations of them so im really happy to hear if people like what im coming up with

also anon you super activated the part of my brain that cant help but yap about art theory... i spent some time writing as many tips as i could think of. unfortunately i dont think i have the time currently to do a fully illustrated guide, but ill still try to include some visual examples:

[incoming wall of text lol]

ANATOMY:

to preface i think that like 100% of the time you should reference a real life photo for anatomy rather than other artwork or drawn references. the best way to learn the body is by… well, actually looking at the body! but also artwork is informed by a person's own artistic ability/stylization choices/sense of idealism, so while looking at art can help give you an idea on how to break down forms, i think you would be best served observing real life references. i labor on this point because i do think that having over relied on drawn reference material and avoiding photographic references on the basis of not being interested on realism hindered me as a largely self-taught artist as a kid, so i want to encourage live or photographic reference since anatomy is one of the foundations from which everything else is built on. that being the case, all of my doodles i'm doing for this are going to be for the sake of example rather than to strictly say how you should or should not be drawing something

-> when you are doing a study of a photo, just try copying it as best as you can. pay close attention to the natural lines and shapes of the body -- the S-curve shape of the leg, the triangular shape of the forearm, the trapezoid shape of hips/thighs when they sit, and so on. note where the body folds or squishes or pulls; how mass will shift to accommodate a certain position. if a form is hard to visualize, focus on the negative space and carve that out, rather than strictly drawing the positive space.

don't expect to get it perfect the first time. in fact, iterate on it multiple times to build understanding. try doing it to a timer of 15, then 10, then 5 minutes. doing this will force you to have to prioritize the most important shapes. you can help reinforce this by using a thicker brush or a brush with no pen pressure (no joke ms paint works great for this) to force you to be loose and not become preoccupied with details.

-> pinterest is a great resource for finding and compiling photo reference material

-> organic shapes are curved, so embracing/emphasizing that (particularly for the extremities) can help make your drawings look more natural or fluid

POSES: -> it all begins & ends with contrapposto… you've probably heard of the line of action, which is related. if you're offsetting the shoulders & hips, it: makes poses more natural, more dynamic, and helps the pose sort of "draw itself" -- the legs will follow the direction of the hips, and you can use the arms to reinforce the angles

-> context is key. don't ask: what pose should i draw? instead ask: what do i want this character to convey? what does happiness, anger, sadness, and so forth look on this particular character? how do they express that? consider these drawings: these are both ostensibly the same pose, but look at how changing just the shape of the spine recontextualizes it.

for more on pose design i recommend watching Tracer & Pose Design 101 - The Animation of Overwatch by New Frame Plus (i promise this is a genuinely super informative video).

to expand on this, in general, all of the components of a piece (background, composition, pose, etc.) are best considered in conjunction rather than separately. it is difficult to choose a pose and then choose a background because they are missing the context that would make a piece cohesive. when you are planning a drawing, try to begin with your general concept/idea/prompt and then do several thumbnails -- small and quick doodles that should take no longer than 5 minutes each -- developing it: you may find that the pose and bg will naturally fall into place.

-> silhouette: the degree to which you need to push this varies by style but generally speaking the pose needs to be readable; i.e. instantly recognizable. try to keep important elements of the gesture outside of the silhouette. for example, if the character is pointing, keep that arm out of the interior of the body. the same pose can be more or less readable or dynamic depending on where the character is pointed in relation to the viewer

-> exaggeration!! goes along with the previous point. push the pose as much as you can (and what makes sense for your style) to communicate your pose as clearly and as intensely as possible.

FACES: -> i highly recommend the app Handy Art Reference Tool by Belief Engine for all things related to drawing hands/heads/feet. its on both android and ios. it isn't free -- it costs around $3 -- but that is seriously such a small price to pay for the amount of utility you get out of it: the hands models are fully poseable (there's also pose presets), you can rotate the head models however you want, and there is 3-point customizable lighting. it is really helpful for getting those super tricky and hyperspecific head angles that you just can't find a real life reference for. that being said given that there's only a few different head model variants, bear in mind how differences in features can affect what exactly a face will look like in those angles.

-> i still recommend doing studies of real people. as with anything else, learning generalized proportions is important, even if you are going to later on bend or break this depending on style

-> as for my own approach... it kind of depends on the style i'm doing at that particular time. for my paintings (what id consider my main style) i approach a character with a few real-world features in mind and then apply them to the best of my ability. it usually will take a few iterations to land on an interpretation i really like as i try out different things. a lot of the face also gets developed during rendering rather than through my initial sketch too, as i adjust for lighting and correct proportions on the fly

(look how much this image changes between sketch and render lol)

if i were to recommend anything, i think it would be to nail down your most distinct features first -- the ones that will make your character's face recognizable, and could apply regardless of art style. in my case with kim dokja, i knew when i first started drawing him that i wanted to give him a longer face and down-turned eyes. when i decided to do the disco elysium inspired set, in which i was breaking out of my comfort zone by letting go of any idealizations focusing on conveying characterization/making them feel "real", i landed on some more specific traits (defined lower lids/perpetually tired eyes/eyebags(?) the crease there idk how to describe it) which i continue to try to evoke even if im drawing something much more cartoony

(pictured are my first kdj -> disco elysium style -> my post de-style kdj)

as a side note, this very same process changed yjh much more dramatically

(^ that first guy is mad someone else)

those handful of key features will be the thing that you can then take into a simpler style and simplify or exaggerate to whatever degree suits you. you can also play with shape theory (square = sturdy/solid, circle = natural/smooth/welcoming, triangle = energetic/dangerous). shape theory doesn't necessarily need to be so rigid -- you can combine shapes as you please to convey whatever vibe you're going for -- so please think of it as a tool that may help rather than a rigid law you must abide by.

-> expressions: exaggerate them. thats kind of it!! make it big!!! you wanna be able to really feel those emotions. the principles of squash & stretch help here: think of how the muscles move when you, say, open the eyes or mouth really big. as one side of the face stretches open, the other side squashes to accommodate it

even without changing the position of the jaw here, moving the nose and scrunching the eyes will sell the expression

you can also play with squash/stretch to break proportions to sell a feeling more

since expressions are just, well, poses for the face, everything else for poses applies here (and facial expressions & pose should also be considered in tandem). while the term contrapposto itself just refers to the offset of the shoulders & hips, the similar principle of asymmetry also carries here as that will help make the expression a bit more dynamic.

and i think... that's it!! all i can think of at least. i hope it helps anon!!!

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Strike a Deal

cw: manipulation, implied torture, violence, heavily implied noncon, adult language

Wildefire Masterlist (note: this drabble is non-canon as of right now)

•°•°•

After all she'd done to avoid Corp, entering one of their shiniest buildings just felt wrong to Sarah. If she wasn't here to 'work out an agreement’—which she hoped was CEO-speak for ‘we surrender’—she'd sooner brick the windows than set one foot on the polished linoleum.

Annie Rivera, head of Good Knight, was waiting when she arrived on the hundredth floor.

“Spyglass.” She offered a smile warm enough to blow a grandma out of the water, and Sarah had to remind herself that however friendly she seemed, Annie committed all the same atrocities as Uriah. Maybe more. She'd certainly heard this lady was ambitious, and that was CEO-speak for ‘out for blood.’

“I wasn't sure you'd come.”

It had taken a lot of discussion with the others and a lot more internal debating before she'd even considered it. She'd sat on the invitation for days before agreeing to meet. Lately, every little decision set her nerves in a jumble, anxiety firing on full blast, insisting she'd certainly make the wrong choice. Her brain had been working against her for weeks, ever since Lex—

She had to keep from physically recoiling at the thought of him. She was sure he was still alive, everyone was, but no matter how hard they searched, they couldn't find a trace.

Her fault. 

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” she said.

“We've heard so much about you. Really making ripples out there, huh?” Annie strolled across the room, taking her place behind a huge wooden desk, and gestured to the leather seat across from her. Begrudgingly, Sarah took it.

“You care about people like you. You want to make things better. I think that's admirable.”

Sarah crossed her arms. “Sure. But I have a feeling you didn't call me here to join the cause.”

Annie gave a sympathetic smile, leaning forward on the desk. “Unfortunately, you are correct. I'm all for empowering the Empowered, of course, but you must understand the… safety issues such a movement poses.”

“So cut the niceties and tell me why I'm here.” She'd already known Annie wouldn't help them, but if she was pretending to be empathetic, that was a good sign, right? It meant she wanted Sarah's cooperation with something. 

“Ah. I've called you here to offer you a contract with Good Knight.”

Sarah frowned. “You gotta be shitting me.”

The easy, friendly smile didn't stray from Annie's face. “Not at all. I want you and your compatriots working for me. You'll be granted full protection and full immunity, and every one of you will have privileged positions within the company.”

“Really?” Sarah leaned forward. “And what's the catch?”

“There is no catch,” Annie said. “Of course, if you're Corp assets, continuing your investigation and public campaign would be a conflict of interest, but that's just common sense, isn't it?”

That was about what Sarah’d expected, and it made her feel strangely giddy. Maybe they couldn't stand against Corp directly, but whatever they'd been doing, it was working. Corp was scared enough to try and bribe them into silence. Even if it wasn't the surrender pipe dream she'd come in with, this new knowledge was enough to make the visit worth it.

She returned Annie's smile. “Well, thanks for having me. I had a great time. And I hope I never see you again.” She pushed away from the desk and stood. If there were any traps or underhand moves planned, now was certainly the time they'd be sprung, but she'd be ready. She turned up her hearing, listening for footsteps or motion in the walls. All she heard was the buzz of the lights and a slight rustling behind her.

“Maybe you'd like to hear the rest of my offer before you go.”

Sarah turned around, half expecting the woman to have a gun on her, but she hadn't heard anything. It had just been something light, like a sheet of cardstock or a…

A photograph. Annie had laid a photograph on the desk. It was dark, with a single figure in its center, staring at the camera with hollow eyes.

Lex.

Her stomach dropped, and she stumbled forwards, catching herself on the desk, gripping its edge for support. He was alive, Lex was alive, but the joy she felt was undercut by how awful he looked.

Lex’s cybernetics were gone. His head has been shaved, and she could see dozens of injuries scattered across his bare torso. He looked drained; like whoever’d had him for these last weeks had siphoned away all his energy, all his… him. He'd lost so much weight she couldn't say if they'd fed him at all, and his complexion was ashen and lifeless.

But the worst part was his eyes. That empty, defeated look. The wildflower purple seemed to have been drained away with the rest of him, faded to a dull bruised color.

“I found him deep in the bowels of the Tower. Nasty place.”

The Tower. He'd already been through so much bullshit there and Corp had just thrown him back inside.

“I could show you worse if you're still not convinced,” Annie said, pulling another photo from a desk drawer.

“Don't—” Sarah started as she laid it down, but this one wasn't nearly as brutal. It was Lex, curled up on a bed in a sterile-looking cell. There was a blanket draped over him. He looked almost peaceful.

“What is..?”

“I fished him out of hell for you,” Annie said. “Whether his treatment gets better or worse from here is up to you.”

Sarah fell back into the chair, trying to get her thoughts to fall in line and shut up so she could act rationally. It was impossible. They wouldn't stop screaming his name.

“How…” She clasped her hands in her lap. “How do I know you actually have him? That… that this isn't some trick?”

“Thought you might say that.” Annie withdrew a tablet, hitting a button before sliding it over. As soon as Sarah's eyes landed on the screen, she froze, her hand flying to her mouth. It was… it was Lex. Lex with the shit beat out of him, held up only by a hand on his head, angling a bruised and swollen face towards the camera. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his eyes unfocused. The timestamp in the corner was for October 5th. Two days ago.

She'd sat on the invitation for days. If she hadn't been indecisive, if she'd acted sooner…

Onscreen, the guy holding Lex  gave him a shake.

“Hey. Camera's rolling. Talk to her.”

He blinked. “Sa…Spyglass.”

Ice seemed to encase her lungs.

“Don't listen to them. D-don’t do what they want.” He took a shaky breath, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I… keep fighting. You have to keep fighting. I…” He blinked furiously, sending a tear rolling down his bruised cheek. “I love you.”

“Okay, that's enough.”

Whoever was holding him shoved him away roughly, and Sarah's stomach twisted as he hit the ground. The camera followed him down, kept rolling as the other man stomped after him, cut to black just as he pulled back his foot for a kick.

“Fuck you,” she whispered as Annie pulled the tablet back across the table.

“Have I convinced you yet?” the other woman asked in a casual tone, not even meeting Sarah's eyes as she fiddled with the tablet.

“Fuck you!”

“You didn't answer my question.”

Sarah clenched her fists, pushing her knuckles into her thighs with enough force it would probably leave a bruise.

I love you.

Lex… She couldn't walk away from him, not now. She never should've left him. She should've told Akeela to run and stayed with him to fight, maybe then…

Maybe then you'd both be in there. Listening to each other scream.

“Let him go.”

“That's not the deal.”

Her nails dug into her palms. “And how do I know you're being honest? How do I know you haven't already killed him?”

Annie cracked a smile at that. “Guess you don't, do you? But do you really want to make that wager?”

“You said you fished him out of hell.”

“Never said I put him anywhere better.”

She pushed the tablet forwards once more. On the frozen screen, Lex was bent over the same sterile bed from the photograph, a person hunched over him, a few others flanking them. At first, it looked like he was just being pinned down. For a frisking or… or something. But then Annie hit play, and the figure above him began to move. 

It took all of a second for Sarah to snatch the tablet and hurl it at the wall. It bounced off, looking relatively unharmed as it hit the ground.

“That was uncalled for.”

“I'll kill you.”

Annie raised an eyebrow. “And what happens to poor Alexei if I'm not around to order them to stop?”

“Stop?” Her lungs were tight.

“That last one…” She extended a neatly trimmed fingernail towards the tablet. “It's a live feed.”

Fuck. Sarah was on her feet, made it halfway to the tablet before stopping cold. She wrapped her arms around herself, squeezing.

“If I agree to your terms… you'll call them off?”

“Immediately.”

“And if I don't?”

Annie shrugged. “Guess they'll stop when the body goes cold.”

Sarah's head dropped. All the triumph and excitement she'd felt just moments ago was gone. They could never win, could they? Corp kept finding a way, kept proving there was no low they wouldn't stoop to in order to keep the status quo.

“I accept. Now stop them. Please.”

Annie casually reached for the phone on her desk, punched in a number. “That's enough on Cinder. We've reached an understanding.”

Sarah scrambled for the tablet, falling to her knees and flipping it face-up, needing to be sure. Thankfully, the others in the cell were backing away, leaving Lex in place, motionless.

“Let me see him,” she murmured. Even just for a moment. He had to know he wasn't alone. She'd get him out, she had to.

“That wasn't part of the deal,” Annie said coolly. “But once you get the rest of your rogues in here, I'll consider it.”

Akeela and Hugo and Rosie… she'd promised she'd keep them safe, and she'd practically delivered them into the clutches of another Corporate power. But what choice did she have when Annie had Lex by the throat?

“You made the right decision,Spyglass.” Annie was beside her. Slender fingers gripped the edge of the tablet, pulling it out of Sarah’s grasp. Lex hadn’t moved; the image of him slumped over the bed—exhausted, hurt, alone—was burned into the back of her eyelids, lingering long after Annie turned off the device. It couldn't be the last image she had of him. She'd do anything to keep this from being the last time she'd see him.

“We'll take good care of you.”

•°•°•

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor

@distinctlywhumpthing , @bloodinkandashes , @fleur-alise , @whumpy-daydreams , @whumpwillow

, @honeycollectswhump ,

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Crime Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ my heart, in deadly rhythm by orphan_account (M, 42k)

There exists somewhere a very, very small list containing the names of people who don’t want Louis Tomlinson dead. Harry Styles may or may not be one of those people.

(or a Spies!AU in which Liam is the Wade to Louis' Kim Possible, Zayn seduces people for intel, Niall is an expert at blowing things up, and Harry is more than a bit famous in his particular field... or infamous, actually. And Louis? Well, Louis just wishes people would quit trying so bloody hard to kill him all the time.)

2️⃣ A Rose, By Any Other Name by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry (E, 10k)

“I don’t understand, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry says quietly.

“You don’t have to understand, sweetheart.” Louis reaches over and runs his thumb across Harry’s cheekbone, watching the boy’s breathing pause as he dares not move beneath the touch of this strange, imposing man. “All you need to know is that you work for me now, and that I’m going to keep you safe from all the bad people in this city, you hear?”

Louis Tomlinson is the head of New York City's mafia, and Harry is the beautiful boy from Texas who falls in with the wrong crowd (which turns out to be the right crowd).

3️⃣ Little Cub by aace1234 (NR, 68k)

Harry is head of the underground, he's ruthless, possessive, feared and powerful.

Louis is a student, his dad works for Harry but Louis has no idea about the underground world.

What happens when Louis Dad causes trouble and Harry kidnaps Louis for revenge.

4️⃣ we've got the world in our hands by sarcasticfluentry (E, 54k)

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

5️⃣ Watch Him As He Goes by LoadedGunn (M, 14k)

It's why Harry loves assignments with Louis; they're thrilling in a way. It's like he never rests. He's this animated, gorgeous guy who's all over the place and Harry actually has to work hard just to catch up to him.

It kind of reminds him of trying to stalk a predator stalking its prey, with his old 70-300 mm lens. Only the predator is a cheeky arsehole. "Come along Harold, I know you usually wait for your zebras to pose for you but here you've got to think on your feet," Louis yelled one time, before disappearing to interview Detective Payne. Never mind the fact Harry was slow in the first place because of Louis' tight jeans.

Or, the AU where Louis' the best police reporter in the country, Harry's the new photographer who is more used to penguins than human subjects, and also there are superheroes.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 this charade (was never going to last) by @scrunchyharry (E, 68k)

On the surface, CitizenX, an international caritative nonprofit, looked like any other nonprofit, funding humanitarian missions worldwide and striving to make the world a better place, one donation at a time.

At least, that was what Harry thought, until he was hired as a computer specialist for a spinoff agency called carish, whose true purpose was to reveal CitizenX’s tangled web of lies.

As if the whole ‘industrial spy’ business was not stressful enough, Harry found himself in a hatred-at-first-sight relationship with one of his new coworkers, Louis, a man intent on detesting Harry.

When the worst happened and Harry and Louis found themselves thrown together in hiding, with only each other to rely on, Harry never could have predicted the turn their relationship would take.

Nor could he anticipate that it would all be taken away from him and he would have to decide how far he was willing to go to get Louis back.

💎 All My Roads Lead to You by @dandelionfairies (M, 41k)

Harry’s stuck in a life he didn’t choose after leaving home at eighteen. Bartending and running drugs were never on his list. Louis is an undercover cop sent in to figure out exactly what’s going on inside of the bar. Neither could have known they’d be drawn to each other.

It’s obvious to Louis that Harry isn’t aware of everything that happens in the backroom. It’s obvious that Nick [Grimshaw] has used Harry’s vulnerability, insecurities, and naivety to keep the man exactly where he wants him.

Harry has never admitted to anyone who he is. They wouldn’t accept him. In fact, he has no doubt that if anyone found out he’s gay, he’d be dead. He doesn’t want to let that wall down for Louis. Because no one can know. But that’s easier said than done. Louis is everything Harry could have ever pictured.

💎 Cowboy Like Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings (M, 29k)

Going legit and starting over in a small town was supposed to solve all of Harry’s problems. That was until a string of robberies in wealthy towns brings him face-to-face with his rouge ex-partner and their dicey, unresolved past.

💎 Tonight's the Night by @jaerie (E, 24k)

Tonight’s the night. The night Harry has been waiting for. Everything has been carefully planned, nothing left to chance, the scene set and waiting for their arrival. It’s time.

Harry lives a double life. During the day he's Harry- trusty blood spatter analyst, at night his darkness comes out to play. So far he's been able to act his way through a normal life without drawing attention. What happens when that is no longer the case?

Or a Dexter AU where Harry is Dexter, Liam is Doakes, Niall is Masuka and Gemma is Deb.

💎 Harry, That Kills People by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (T, 2k)

If there’s one thing that Harry hates, it’s getting his clothes dirty.

If there’s one other thing that Harry hates, it’s murder.

Unfortunately, right here and right now, Harry’s clothes are dirty, and he’s murdered someone. So. It’s not a great day.

“Ugh,” says Harry. “Yeargh. Bleh.”

[weissaddams]

Date With Death

Chapter 7

The next few hours were a blur of photos, hugs and threats. 

Wednesday hadn’t thought much of her outfit. She’d always favored black and white, after all, it would make sense that she wore those same colors on her last day on the planet. Her fondness for blue made itself known after a few years of knowing a certain blonde wolf.

Bianca and Yoko, however, thought it was very convenient that she was dressed like a groom. Though grooms normally wore vests and coats, Wednesday needed none of that to clean up well, as Yoko so graciously put it. It certainly didn’t hurt that she chose to wear her hair the same way she did at their first Rave’N at Nevermore.

Which was why the three scheming girls all but pushed the raven and the werewolf together for some much needed bestie photos, as Yoko liked to call them. 

With bridesmaids. Without bridesmaids. Just the two of Enid and Wednesday.

Just Enid. Just Wednesday. Just Wednesday with either Yoko, Divina or Bianca.

Just Enid with all three girls. Just Enid with her bouquet. Just Wednesday with the bouquet looking confused as hell as to why she had to pose with a bundle of flowers that were certainly not hers.

Just Wednesday and Enid. Standing together.

Looking like they were getting married.

It certainly wasn’t how the raven thought her last hours would go, but she supposes there were worse ways to go.

Yoko and Enid were having the time of their lives doing odd poses for the photographer when Bianca silently asked her for a word in private.

They’d walked to the adjacent terrace, just far enough not to be heard if they talked quietly, and near enough to watch their friends continue to have fun.

“I take it you’ve talked to Ajax.”

“Yes, we had a very illuminating conversation.”

“And you’re happy with letting Enid go? Without a fight?”

Without a fight? Was that how things looked? Wednesday cowering from a fight for the love of her life when she was so bravely standing here right now, appreciating her last moments of life with the people she had come to care about? 

“It may not seem that way at times, but I will fight for Enid until my dying breath, and I will never obligate her to do the same for me. Happiness is not a requirement.”

Bianca always thought it was amusing how Enid thought she was hard to love and Wednesday loved her like it was as easy as breathing. 

Wednesday loved Enid, despite everything and everyone that surrounded her. Even now, the siren could practically see Wednesday's heart on her sleeve as she fondly watched Enid make silly faces with Yoko for the photographer to capture.

“And if she wants to fight for you?”

“I am not worth fighting for.”

“Enid would kill you for saying that.”

Wednesday chuckled darkly. Enid certainly would kill her for saying that. After today, she’s sure Enid would love to kill her for many other things. Too bad she wouldn't get to experience those glorious claws.

“I am sure Enid will live a long and happy life with her beloved husband-to-be. I have been a witness to that love, after all.”

“She loves you, you insufferable ass.”

“She also deserves more than I can give her, Bianca. A loving husband, children. A happy and colorful life that is out of my reach.”

Bianca had never seen Wednesday look so defeated and yet so resolute. The Wednesday who would bend over backwards to make Enid smile. The Wednesday who would throw the wedding of the fucking century if Enid asked her to even if she hated anything that involved people. 

The siren couldn’t understand how the Wednesday standing before her now and the Wednesday she knew all those years ago were one and the same. Defeated but calm? Something was up, and the raven was not going to budge about it.

“I swear to gods if you yell out I object later when the officiator asks because you finally realized you want to fight for her, I’m going to fucking stab you.”

“If I don’t, may I stab you?”

Bianca groaned. She could not believe this girl had the audacity to smirk at her after asking that. Of course she would take a threat as a goddamn challenge. Classic Wednesday Addams. 

They were dragged back into the room by Enid and Yoko shortly after their conversation.

It was time for the bridesmaids-only photoshoot when Enid pulled Wednesday over to the couch.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

Wednesday wordlessly hands it to Enid, noticing the smile that graces the bride’s lips when she sees that her selfie was still Wednesday’s lock screen display. It was a selfie Enid took as she sat beside Wednesday who was discussing a classical piece with her.

“You’ve had this lock screen for a while, I think it’s time we change it.”

“Oh?”

Enid shuffles closer to the seer and places a hand on her shoulder, as best as her dress would allow, anyway. She holds her hand out to frame them and just before she clicks the shutter, she gives Wednesday a kiss on the cheek, capturing the raven’s reaction perfectly.

--

Date With Death master post

--

PSA: I changed Wednesday’s outfit in Chapter 1 to look more like a groom outfit. I added the link below if you wanna see. I’m sure your mind will show you the rest of the outfit once you click the link.

Neckerchief

--

How are we feeling? Are you guys liking the slow pace so far?

While you’re here, do give me Wenclair fic recommendations or even Bumbleby or Whiterose fics. Would love to read them.

I mostly started writing this so I could read it? Lol yeah I love angst. That said, I really love it when you guys reply or comment on my writing so please do!

Will probably make an AO3 account once I finish everything on Tumblr.

[drvirgus]

Commitment & Responsibility

Yeji X Fem! Reader

Description: The life of Yeji and her Girlfriend Yn

Warnings: G!P Yeji, Smut, Angst,

Chapter 1:

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Jagi... I know, I'm sorry... but I can't come yet. Hye-Jin Unnie has another photoshoot," I whispered into the phone. My face twisted sadly as I had to suppress a sigh.

I heard Yeji, my girlfriend, whining on the other line. She let out a loud sigh. "I understand, y/n... but... I haven't seen you in so long," Yeji lamented over the phone. Her voice sounded sadder than usual.

"Jagi, I swear I'll make it up to you. I'll hurry, okay? I promise," I replied into the phone. Meanwhile, my hands were already preparing the next outfits. Thankfully, there were AirPods.

I heard Yeji sigh in dissatisfaction. She swallowed. "Okay... but... please hurry, Jagiya," I heard Yeji respond. I immediately smiled widely. "I love you," I whispered, making sure those around me couldn't hear, but Hye-Jin from Mamamoo, Hwasa, caught onto it.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she looked at me now. "I-I have to hang up now, baby. I'll try to be there within two hours, okay?" I asked, and I heard Yeji sigh again. "I love you too... I miss you," she said, and I nodded.

I heard someone calling me. Panic widened my eyes, and I quickly apologized to the photographer as I seemed to be taking too long. Yeji heard everything and decided to hang up.

Hye-Jin looked at me, her eyes slightly wide. "You have... a boyfriend?" she asked, and almost immediately, she grinned a little as she looked at me. Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

But I just smiled nervously. "Here, Unnie. This is your next outfit," I simply said, and Hwasa burst into laughter due to my reaction. She quickly took off her top, not caring that I was still standing here. My eyes widened, and I turned around immediately.

Hye-Jin laughed at my response but didn't say anything. Shortly after, she sat on the couch and posed for the camera. I observed everything. Some people immediately asked me about the background colors and when to release the fake snow.

My eyes fell on my wristwatch. 6 p.m... Yeji was already expecting me at home so we could go to Yuna's birthday party together. But today, Hwasa had a photoshoot.

I bit my lip. I just hoped the photoshoot would be over quickly. I still had to drive her home too. But Yeji knew how my work was. After all, I used to be Itzy's manager.

———————————————————————————

Hurriedly, I made my way to the van, with Hwasa following me, wearing a slight grin. "What's up? Do you have another date?" she asked when she saw me getting behind the wheel. I turned to her and said, "Not a date... just someone's birthday." Hwasa hummed with interest.

I started the engine. "Can I come along? I wasn't really in the mood to go home anyway," Hwasa suddenly said. Astonished, my eyes widened as I looked at her with my mouth agape.

Hwasa laughed, saying, "What? I want to meet your boyfriend." She shrugged, and I swallowed. I had to smile a little. "Well... SHE's already waiting for me. But I don't know. Should I ask?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow at the older woman.

Hwasa nodded. Apparently, she didn't even care that I might be inadvertently outing myself in front of her. I smiled to myself while biting my lip. Immediately, I called Yeji.

"Hey, Jagiya. The photoshoot is over now. So, either I drop Hye-Jin Unnie off at her place and then come, or should I bring her with me?" I asked. My fingers played with the steering wheel as I felt my heartbeat quicken.

I swallowed when I heard her humming. I heard her asking the others as well, and almost immediately, excited chatter filled the background. I chuckled. "Come over right away and kiss me," Yeji said, which made me laugh. I turned to Hwasa and nodded with my head. She grinned almost immediately.

Shortly after, I hung up and started driving. "Is she hot? I mean... your girlfriend?" Hwasa asked, and my entire face immediately turned red. I laughed visibly nervously.

"You'll see her soon anyway. It's Yeji... from Itzy," I said. My eyes glanced at the rearview mirror, and I noticed Hwasa looking at me, clearly surprised. She blinked several times.

"You used to be their manager, right?" she asked, and my nod confirmed her suspicion. "Why did you quit then? I mean, you could have spent much more time together," she asked. Her eyes were fixed on the back of my head since she couldn't see beside me.

I chuckled a little. This question was understandable. Many people who knew about Yeji and me would ask me that. I took a deep breath. "Well... work is work... the two of us weren't particularly good at separating the personal and professional. We argued a lot as a couple or were too close. It caused problems, so I decided to quit," I answered truthfully.

Hwasa nodded again. She sighed and ran her hand through her long black hair. "That sounds challenging. But you quit to protect your relationship. I find it admirable," she said, smiling as she gently stroked my shoulder.

I smiled. "Thank you, Unnie."

———————————————————————————

"Oh my god! Has my baby turned a year older again?" I asked as I hugged Yuna with a grin. She jumped into my arms, her legs wrapped around my hips. She laughed with joy.

"Finally, you're here! We've all been waiting for you," Yuna said, almost beaming at me. Her lips were now next to my ear. "Especially Yeji. She can't wait to see you," the birthday girl whispered.

I laughed and finally set her down. I turned to Hwasa. "This is Hye-Jin Unnie," I introduced the person of the same height. She immediately smiled and wished Yuna a happy birthday.

We entered the room. Yeji was sitting on the couch with Ryujin, Lia, and Chaeryeong. They were all staring at a phone. Yeji briefly looked up and then back at the phone, trying hard not to smile.

"Alright, everyone. I think we should end the Vlive now and celebrate Yuna's birthday. Thank you, Midzys, for celebrating Yuna's birthday with us," Yeji said, finally smiling.

Yuna almost immediately jumped on Lia, eager to be seen on camera as well. "Thank you, Midzys. It meant a lot to me," she said, laughing a little. I looked at Hwasa, and we both knew that we had to be quiet now.

They ended the live broadcast after about 5 minutes. In the meantime, I had already prepared a drink for myself and gave one to Hwasa as well. Of course, she wanted some alcohol. I smirked.

As I prepared the drinks and handed one to Hwasa, I felt hands on my waist and a chin on my head. I immediately had to smile widely. I knew exactly who it was.

I turned around in her arms. On the other side of the table with the drinks, I asked with a smile, looking straight into Yeji's eyes, "Are you ready?" She smiled broadly.

I cleared my throat a bit because Hwasa was still standing next to us. "This is Hye-Jin Unnie," I introduced her to Yeji. Yeji only loosened her grip on me halfway. Her eyes were now on Hwasa as she smiled kindly.

Hwasa grinned knowingly shortly after. Just the touch alone was enough to figure out that this was Yeji. "So, you're Yeji?" she asked with a slight grin. Yeji shook her hand. "So, you're the reason why our manager is grinning so widely?" she asked, and Yeji's eyes lit up.

That was enough to change her entire mood. She giggled as she nodded, "Really?" she asked curiously, and the conversation seemed to be getting interesting for her.

Hwasa laughed a bit, "Oh yes. She's always staring at her phone and blushing or giggling to herself. We all knew she was in a relationship. It was hard to miss," Hwasa said, laughing, as she took a sip of her drink. She looked at Yeji and then at me, "You two should properly greet each other. I'll go to the birthday girl and introduce myself to the others," she said, winking, and then left us alone.

Yeji watched her for a moment before turning her body back to me. "I like her," Yeji immediately said. Smiling, I looked at the taller girl. I nodded with my head and simply stared at her. A gentle smile on my face.

"I missed you," I said softly. Yeji blushed slightly. Her hand found my cheek, and slowly she brought her face closer to mine. "I missed you even more," she whispered as she placed her lips on mine.

Contentedly, I closed my eyes as my hands rested on her lower back. I hummed blissfully into the kiss. My body visibly relaxed. Yeji pressed me a little more against the table, her hand still on my cheek.

I heard someone nervously laughing. With a furrowed brow and an uneasy feeling, I broke the kiss. My eyes fell on Yuna, who had her phone in her hand and was now waving.

"See you soon, Midzys," she said as she presumably ended the live stream. I blinked. She was quite far away, but she seemed to have turned around to show the decorations, of course. Hopefully, she didn't see Yeji and me.

Nervously, I bit my lip, but Yeji's hand on my chin prevented me from doing so. Her eyes slightly narrowed, "You know it drives me crazy when you do that," she whispered softly before reclaiming my lips.

The worry I had moved to the back. Right now, Yeji was the most important thing. My hands wandered to the back of her neck as I deepened the kiss. I felt Yeji pressing her body more against mine.

I knew exactly what it meant, and she was right. It had been quite a while since we last slept together.

Before this kiss escalated, I broke it. Yeji sighed in dissatisfaction, which only made me smile. "Jagiya, we're at Yuna's birthday party," I reminded the older girl, which made her roll her eyes a bit. I chuckled softly.

"You know... I don't have to get up until noon tomorrow... I also have an empty spot in my bed," I whispered softly. My hand now playing with the hem of Yeji's top, looking deep into her eyes.

Yeji swallowed as she smiled, "Oh. Are you flirting with me?" Yeji asked, a grin forming on her face. I chuckled softly, "Hmm? I don't know, am I?" I asked, smiling. My eyes turned into doe-eyes as I looked up at her.

Yeji laughed, a deep blush forming on her cheeks. She ran her fingers through her long hair, "You're driving me crazy," Yeji almost whispered. Her face came closer to mine again, almost as if there was a magnetic pull.

"Hello? I know you missed each other, but we haven't even greeted Y/n yet," Lia said. Yeji twitched and turned to Lia, and almost immediately pouted as she hugged me tighter.

"Mine!" she exclaimed like a little child. Lia rolled her eyes while I started laughing. I placed my hand on her head and gently stroked it. "Jagiya, you're staying with me tonight, okay?" I asked with a smile, and Yeji immediately nodded her head.

She let go of me, and I almost immediately hugged the remaining three people. After a short while, we all sat down on the couch. Yuna was engaged in a conversation with Hwasa, and both seemed to be slightly drunk.

I smiled as Yeji sat down next to me. She only drank some water, which Chaeryeong immediately commented on. Yeji just grinned and said, "Well... I won't drink anymore. I always fall asleep immediately when I'm drunk," she replied. That was enough for Chaeryeong to make a disgusted face.

Lia, on the other hand, looked at me. "You're not drinking anything?" she asked, sounding surprised. She didn't know me like this. When I was with more than two people in a room, I usually had an alcoholic drink in my hand.

I laughed, "I still have to drive," I replied, and Lia nodded in understanding. Hwasa sighed disappointingly, "We can order a taxi!" she said, which made me laugh.

"I'll drive," Yeji said immediately. I looked at her, surprised. Hwasa cheered right away and handed me her drink. "Drink! Listen to your unnie," she said, and my eyes widened.

It would be impolite to refuse a drink from an older person. I looked at Yeji. I swallowed, "Are you sure?" I asked, and Yeji nodded with a smile. Her hand on my thigh, "Very sure... I like it when you've had a drink. You become... very bold," she replied, and I immediately blushed.

I then accepted the drink from Hwasa and took a sip. Yeji's eyes narrowed slightly as I shared a drink with someone other than her without any problem. But she didn't say anything.

———————————————————————————-

Drunk, Hwasa and I laughed along the way. I sat in the passenger seat, but my body was almost sideways so that I could also look at Hwasa.

"Remember... I mean... umm," I said and laughed, and Hwasa laughed with me while Yeji smirked. "Oh yes! Umm... Show. You have a guest appearance tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.! I'll pick you up at 12:30," I said as I tried to concentrate.

Hwasa just laughed and nodded. But I knew I should probably come a bit earlier tomorrow to pick her up. Drunk, I grabbed my phone from my pocket and set several alarms.

Yeji saw it and shook her head amusedly. Her hand on my thigh. When we arrived, I escorted Hwasa to the door. She looked at me. Her hand landed on my head. "Don't take her too hard," she said as she laughed again.

"More like the other way around," I replied, which made Hwasa grin again. She entered her apartment, and I immediately went back outside. My eyes narrowed.

Where was the van?

"Y/n."

I turned around and laughed again. Wow... I was probably more drunk than expected. I got back into the passenger seat and looked at Yeji.

She looked at me. "Are you okay?" she asked, slightly concerned. Her forehead wrinkled as she looked at me. I nodded my head, and almost immediately, I bit my lip.

"We're finally alone," I said, and Yeji's facial expression completely changed. She recognized the shift in my voice. Her eyes widened.

"H-here?" she asked, which made me grin. My eyes looked at her, a puppy face on my face. "You don't want to?" I asked, and Yeji's face blushed. She took a deep breath.

"God. I love it when you've had a drink," she said, and this was answer enough for me. I immediately sat on her lap, and finally, for once, I was taller than her.

!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Smut

!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!

I looked straight into her eyes, my arms around her neck, as I felt Yeji push the seat all the way back. I immediately noticed how she unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper.

I laughed, "Seems like you're in a hurry," I commented, grinning. Yeji paused for a moment, looking up at me with an open mouth. She chuckled, "I can't help it. You... just drive me crazy," she replied.

My heartbeat accelerated as I felt her hands on my hips. My hips were already in motion, rubbing against hers. I could feel the bulge in her pants growing bigger and bigger.

Yeji sighed as she closed her eyes, biting her lip. Her hands also promptly opened my pants, and with some help from me, she managed to take them off. She gasped for breath.

"Y/n," she uttered as her hand found my nape. Roughly, she pulled me towards her, her lips on mine, and her tongue immediately entered my mouth. Her hand lifted my sweater. She broke the kiss to take off my sweater.

Fortunately, the van's windows were dark. No one could see us, even if they tried to look inside.

Our lips parted as I looked at the breathless celebrity. Her eyes narrowed, glittering with desire. Her breathing was erratic as she looked at me, but her eyes fixated on my breasts.

She exhaled as she used one hand to pull up my bra. My breasts were now exposed. She licked her lips once, "I love you," she said softly as she kissed my collarbone and then my cleavage. Her lips soon enclosed around my nipple.

I gasped for breath again. My hips were still moving on her bulge, but I closed my eyes as I felt her lips on my heated skin. I let out a sharp exhale.

"Baby... please..." I impatiently pleaded. I saw Yeji looking up. My eyes half-open as I watched her suck on my nipple. My face blushed.

But Yeji ignored me, a grin on her lips, as her hand now enjoyed my other breast while she continued to lick my nipple.

I moaned softly. I pressed my lips together to refrain from moaning again. She teased me. I didn't want to give her that satisfaction. That's why my hands immediately moved to her bulge. I relieved her - not so small friend - from its torment.

Yeji's member brushed against my thigh. I swallowed as I bit my lip. Yeji chuckled a bit. She loved how I always hesitated for a moment after seeing it. She knew exactly what I was thinking. It's going to feel so good...

Yeji gently bit my skin, right on my cleavage. She marked me. Again. There wasn't a single time she didn't mark me. It was a wonder none of the Midzy's noticed. But what did I expect? I was just the manager. And now it was even more complicated. Now I was Mamamoo's manager.

"Yeji," I moaned as I continued to grind against her. I could feel my core getting hot with each passing second. I licked my lips again.

"So impatient and so ready," Yeji said as her fingers touched my soaked underwear. She chuckled, "Such a good girl," she said, grinning.

My breath hitched. God... She really knew what I liked!

She pushed my underwear aside. She took her member in her hand and positioned herself at my entrance. Her eyes locked with mine. "Is this what you want?" she asked, grinning as she moved her hips ever so slightly.

She continued to tease me. The head of her not-so-small friend played around my entrance. I gasped, "More, Yeji. More," I pleaded. My eyes locked onto hers. My hands on her cheeks as I used my puppy eyes again.

"Yeji unnie," I begged. She hesitated. That was it. Without saying another word, she penetrated me. My hands clenched onto her shoulders. A moan escaped my lips.

She looked at me with an open mouth as she growled softly. She pressed my upper body against the steering wheel. She managed to keep my hands behind my back.

Her eyes focused solely on mine. Her hips moved, intensifying my panting and moaning. "Fuck! I forgot how perfectly you fit me," Yeji exclaimed with a roar. Her lips were right on my pulse as she started marking me there.

I moved my hips as well. I wanted to touch her, but she just wouldn't let go of my hands. I moaned louder. The entire car moved with our motions. Even if no one could see inside, they knew exactly what we were doing.

"I love you, y/n," she repeatedly whispered softly as her lips traveled from my neck all the way down to my chest. Occasionally, she bit into my flesh.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed as I felt how deep she was inside me. I swallowed. My chest rose and fell drastically. My legs began to tremble. Not being able to touch her was exciting... but at the same time, it was torture.

Yeji looked at me. Her head pressed against the seat as she moved her hips harder. One hand on my hip, while the other still held my wrists.

"Fuck, baby... you're so tight," she moaned. Between clenched teeth as she tried to suppress her own moans. But I couldn't respond. I was too busy trying to hold back my orgasm.

She hadn't given me permission to come yet. Without her permission, I wouldn't come!

"Good girl," she said as she grinned. She knew it. She had never said it, but I knew exactly how much she liked it. She liked the feeling of my walls twitching when I was close.

Honestly, she enjoyed seeing me struggle like this. The urge to come growing stronger, while the urge to be a good girl prevented it.

I moaned. My head now on her shoulder as my lips caressed her neck. That always happened when I couldn't take it anymore. I was on the edge, and Yeji knew it.

She let out a short laugh, sweat on her forehead as she grinned. She knew it. She knew me and my body by heart. She knew what my reaction meant.

"Come, baby," she said as she moved her hips faster. "I'm almost there too," she gasped out. She growled as I gently bit into her skin.

My eyes widened. Fuck! She isn't free tomorrow! I immediately stopped and moved my head away from her neck.

"Don't stop," she said when she noticed my reaction. Her jaw tensed as her face turned completely red from the exertion. My hips rolled against hers. "But... what about the cameras?" I asked, but I didn't really care at that moment. I wanted to mark her!

Yeji looked at me, her eyes half-opened as her lips formed a grin. "Fuck it!" she exclaimed, pressing out the words as she now had both hands on my hips. My back pressed against the steering wheel as her rhythmic movements became more uncontrolled.

"Don't think, just enjoy it," she gasped, her eyes closing. She was close. That was enough of an answer for me. I buried my head back into her neck, my teeth digging into her skin as I began to suck and lick.

Yejis eyes opened, almost wide. She moaned and twitched. She growled as she reached her orgasm, but her hips didn't stop. No, she continued moving them, now in a much slower rhythm.

My legs started to tremble as well when her thumb rested on my clit. The circular motions pushed me over the edge. My eyes rolled back as I felt myself reaching my orgasm, with her name on my lips.

Breathing heavily, I remained seated on her. Only after a few more thrusts did her movements come to a halt as well. She looked at me, breathing heavily, with a proud grin on her face.

I looked back at her and breathlessly said, "I love you." Yeji smiled widely and replied, "I love you even more." She connected our lips together.

[sanctus-ingenium]

Please make a tutorial on how to draw horses

wdym.. there's no wrong way to draw a horse

in all seriousness i won't be doing this because i can't show you anything that you couldn't get from an in-depth look at musculoskeletal structure and surface anatomy, which you can get just from looking at some photos (or accurate anatomical diagrams - think veterinary manuals) of those things. i do this all the time

in fact the only extra 'lesson' i could add on top of that if i made a tutorial would be my own mistakes & limitations in understanding, which (if u followed the tutorial) u would then reproduce. you wouldn't learn how to draw a horse, you would learn how i fail at drawing horses instead.

however i will take this time to point out the BIGGEST tip i have to make your horses look like horses and not dogs (unless u like that sort of thing). with the help of our friend the wikimedia commons horse skeleton diagram

take careful note of where the joints are. people who are used to drawing cats and dogs tend to locate the wrist a little too low so it comes out like this

i see this allllll the time. again there's no wrong way to draw something so if that's ur thing then go for it, but if you're trying to have a silhouette readable as a horse then it's all in the legs.

general advice: if you want to learn to draw some animal realistically, the best way to do it is to train yourself so that you can look at photographs of the subject like you're wearing x-ray glasses, you can see what's happening beneath the skin even for complex poses.

[bagog]

N7 Month, 2023 - Day 11: Crew

Post-war crew portrait.

++

No one wanted to be there, least of all Shepard, but it was a rare occasion where everyone was in one place again, and the air in the room reflected it. The artist was becoming panicked at how loosely the majority of the crew seemed to interpret her appointment time: Garrus was more than twenty minutes later, and entered impassive to his own tardiness. The artist tried several times to get everyone’s attention, but the old friends had taken to talking in a huddle nearby a refreshment table. She looked at Shepard helplessly.

“Alright everybody,” Shepard raised his voice over the cheerful din. “We’re all here to get this done, so let’s get started now that everybody’s here.”

“How do you want us?” Kaidan asked the artist, coming to stand beside Shepard.

It was for the official portrait—the Normandy crew—which was promised to the Smithsonian once it was completed. The majority of the crew had posed for a photograph earlier in the day, but for the Senior staff it was decided a massive painting was in order.

Hikka Haufika, the artist chosen by several planetary governments, busily arranged the reluctant aliens and humans into formation, explaining under her breath how she didn’t want to do the standard rugby line-up portrait, but wanted to create something dynamic, something that communicated more than simple likeness. All the while, a young intern stalked about the studio with a camera drone: recording the accompanying video which would be played beneath the portrait once it hung in the museum.

“I don’t understand,” Tali crossed her arms, tone threatening at boredom. “Couldn’t you just do a complete three dimensional scan of us? Then we won’t have to hold these poses for so long.”

“I’m an old fashioned painter,” Haufika declared, then quieter when the camera drone approached her face. “I’m not only trying to capture the look of your crew, but the energy.”

“Oh, you’ll get energy from this group,” Liara said cryptically as she was positioned standing at a computer console. The artist brought more laptops and data-pads and artfully strewn them about her.

“So how long is this going to take?” James asked, seeming to sink further into himself as he watched the crew members plucked out a lineup one by one to be placed in the scene

“Never thought I’d catch you afraid to hold a pose,” Steve chimed in.

“Very funny.” James rolled his eyes.

“You don’t have to stand completely still, James,” Kaidan was now standing in the scene, sleeves on his uniform rolled up, gripping a Valkyrie assault rifle awkwardly. “Nobody expects you up here holding your breath for two hours.”

“Two hours…” Javik groaned. He frowned at the artist and she returned the frown in kind, skipped over him to pose the next person instead.

“Yeah, Shepard’s not sweating about it.” Joker was seated on a stool to one side of the frame, the artist taking his hat on and off and on and off before finally leaving it on. “How many is this for you now, Shepard?”

“Two sculptures, fifteen holo-photos, but this is only my second painting.” Shepard stepped into the scene himself and took up a pose beside Kaidan.

“Commander Shepard,” Haufika tapped his shoulder. “Actually, I was hoping you would stand right over here.”

“Oh.” Shepard replied passively, but did not move. “Any way you can put me here instead?”

“I, um… it wasn’t really what I…” she stuttered as Shepard remained impassive. “Um. Sure. You can stand there. Whatever.”

This caused a chain reaction, however, that saw several people’s poses have to be recast and a few people moved around.

“You know,” Garrus droned, standing with one arm on James’ shoulder, a sniper rifle slung over his. “Whenever humans paint a turian, we always end up looking like monsters…” Haufika looked offended, but before she could speak up, Dr. Chakwas guffawed from her position.

“You’ve been on the extranet too much.”

“Miss Haufika recently opened a gallery in Cairo, and was a featured exhibit at the Volus neo-classicism museum last year.” Liara chimed in, and the artist seemed pleased. Took up sketching on her canvas again.

“Well, at least we know she knows how to paint an Evo suit,” Tali remarked dryly, a prop shotgun placed atop a fake console she was ‘reading.’

They continued to chat as Haufika set to work laying down the bones of the scene. A few people were shifted around. James was bored. Kaidan eventually leaned forward, whispered in Shepard’s ear:

“Well, is this about what you expected?”

“Javik hasn’t stormed out, yet, so it’s better than it could’ve been,” Shepard returned quietly.

“Hey there,” Tali’s voice rose, sparkling, above the rest of the chatter. “Shepard, Kaidan… if you two aren’t careful, the painting’s going to have you two whispering to each other.”

“Remember, this is for posterity,” Steve rejoined. “This is going to be the image of the Normandy crew to future generations.” His tone was tinged with irony, but Shepard smiled all the same.

He had never wanted to be the sort of person who was ‘remembered’ as a hero, or anything other than a friend. Whatever ‘energy’ it was Hikka Haufika captured, he hoped the image the future would remember would be one of him, surrounded by friends.

[voidsumbrella]

concerns about labor and weird precedents aside, i think ive managed to pinpoint the thing that bothers me about a lot of ai art- the majority of it has zero understanding of media specificity.

like, the way a concept is presented inherently changes the meaning; a plein air painting means something different than a photograph of the same location; a marble sculpture reads very differently than an identical pose made in chicken wire; etc.

it's why live action adaptations tend to struggle, since as with any other form of translation, you have to be able to get the meaning alongside the structure, and that's just really hard. ive said this before, but the lord of the rings movies did a good job of this: they highlighted things that can be conveyed better through visuals (the costuming, the creature designs, the scale of the environment) while reducing focus on the parts that wouldn't work as well (for all that i love tom bombadil, including that section would have severely bogged the pacing down while adding very little to the story). there's about ten bajillion les mis adaptations because no one can agree which parts need to be adapted or how to do that.

there are aspect of ai made/assisted media that are interesting and can be used as effectively, if not more, than other mediums. this is a good example- this same concept could be achieved without ai using photoshop. would it be more difficult? yes. would it be better? probably not! i still think the birds that don't exist thread is really cool. taking something that can identify and assemble common patterns without understanding the meaning or reason for any of them can have some really fun results, and can't be achieved by any other method, that's just not how human brains work. it's neat! it's effective!

but the bulk of serious ai art is just mimicking illustrations. image generation is pretty much just using text to try and force random chance to work towards your goal; you don't have any true control over the method or composition, you can't do anything with intent or purpose in the way that you can in other forms, and that's why a lot of it comes across as soulless to anyone who is familiar with how other forms of 2d art work. the process is treated as disposable in a way that is frequently detrimental to the piece and is inherently read as insulting to the people who have put in time and effort into actually developing the skill required for the process.

again, this isn't unique to ai/image generation and has been a conversation in art ~studies~ for ages and ages (insert rant about how much i fucking hate jeff koons here), but if you want something to be treated as a serious medium, it's going to be held to the same standards and criticisms as the rest of 'em.

[couchpotatoaniki]

Stories From Alternate Universes: Yandere!Seokjin

To understand the storyline of Dr Gertrude, please read the Stories From Alternate Universes; BTS Version (headcannon masterlist).

To understand the Yandere storyline, please read the Seven Yandere Stories From An Alternate Universe (Yandere!BTS headcannon masterlist)

Warnings: yandere behaviour, mental health issues, narcissism, swearing, stalking, brainwashing, violence, sexual harassment (kissing), emotional/verbal abuse, fear/threat of violence, cliffhanger

Word count: 4k+ (not including Doctor’s Notes)

A/N: This one hits slightly close to home, since there are traits which stem from some people I used to know. Dealing with a narcissist (especially in the romantic aspect or as family) is scary business and certainly no joke--it often feels like a trap you can’t escape from, especially since you don’t really know what’s happening until a good deal of damage is done and leaving is hard. Though I can’t really give much advise from a personal perspective, I can definitely recommend you watch Dr Ramani on YouTube. Her videos have helped those in my life who have dealt with narcissists so I suggest you have a look through. I am in no way romanticising toxic and yandere behaviour that is shown. Please, don’t treat people this way and if you find yourself stuck in something like this, the first step is telling someone you trust--someone who cares for your long-term happiness.

Doctor’s Notes:

Out of my seven case studies, Kim Seokjin is one of two people who will isolate his victim, a trait that stems from his delusional mind. A few notable behaviours and characteristics while studying him are as follows:

He wants his victim to himself, no one else, and does this not necessarily through violence, but through repetition of thoughts and beliefs

Faces many insecurities, so will push them onto his victim to make them believe they have these insecurities instead

To cure said ‘insecurities’ in his victim, I found that he believes only he can--in a sense--’purify’ them with what he believes is love

In an attempt to get closer to the victim, he will begin to alter their memories through constant repetition--effectively brainwashing which has very negative side-effects

This previous point is so that the victim begins to change their actions and thoughts, making it much easier for them to integrate into his life--where he believes he can keep them forever

Brainwashing, although is mainly used on his victim, is used on himself as well--from what I have observed, it acts like a coping mechanism of sorts

Self-brainwashing includes removing violent memories, memories of rejection, or any other memories that bring about unpleasant emotions

Believes his victims are more deluded than he is, and attempts to ‘save’ them by keeping them away from any outside influence

Appointed Nickname: The Mad

For more detailed information of His Story, continue reading

His Story:

Since he was a child, Seokjin was gifted with beauty. He looked good no matter what he was doing, what pose he pulled, and the ease that came with it meant that he was more drawn towards modelling.

Sure, on his rise to fame, his ever-growing ego had a feast from all the compliments but all things must crumble under the watchful gaze and scrutinising remarks of strangers. What was he to do? Listen and destroy himself or ignore it?

Obviously, the pride in him cooed the kindest words, bandaged up his wounds like a mother would. He needed no one but himself--listened to no one but himself.

And maybe his agent on occasions.

But mainly himself.

Then along came you.

Lazy, laid-back, dressed-in-rags you.

A stand-in for the photographer who had a last-minute family emergency. Something about his wife being in labour...? But who cares. It was Seokjin’s shoot so he wasn’t happy with getting anything less than perfection.

Simply the idea of a stand-in sent alarms off in his head, that you were sub-par and wouldn’t do his unblemished skin and glorious bone structure the justice it deserves.

He gave you hell for it. Sneering at you the moment the lens was pointing anywhere but him, stealing your coffee cups, barging into you intentionally--hard enough to make you lose your footing but not enough to knock you over.

It was never enough to knock you over.

Why wouldn’t you just knock over?

The few agonising days of shooting were over, and you sent the pictures to his agent to be approved of before you officially sent them over to whatever magazine he was starring in. You didn’t care enough to ask, wanting him and his business to be the past so you could continue your free-lance photography.

Of which Seokjin found out about, of course. Funny what a quick Google search of your name could do. It added to why he was so unpleased with you. But once he saw what your magical camera did to him, he was... slightly impressed.

How your particular lens could make him look even more ethereal, bring out more of his natural beauty than any other, he couldn’t understand what set you apart out from everyone else.

He got his agent to pull a few strings to find out where you came from--why you were the stand-in. Turns out, you were just helping out the original photographer as an old friend of his. And for that exact reason, he saw you again with that God-given camera of yours.

Some pretentious gala for New Years, where all the celebs would mingle and pretend they didn’t just make a sarcastic jab at whoever they were speaking to.

And there you were again. Still had those bags under your eyes. Still had that disinterested stare that never seemed to focus on anything. Still dressed in those tattered-looking clothes that look like they were made at least a decade ago.

Eventually, when he was ready, he made his way over to you, thinking he could perhaps... fix you?

The closer he got, the more potential he realised you had. Just covered in too many flaws.

But despite his generosity of gracing you with his presence, you didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were almost irritated by it. Now that kind of disrespect just won’t do. And why would you act in such a way? It’s not like he’s done anything bad to you--not anything he can remember at the moment...

So he does his best to trap you with him for the next shoot--and he is very much successful in that. This time, he asked less people to be there so he could have more privacy to verbally dissect you with his questions. Some general, some more in-depth. All of which you reply with simplicity, not giving away too much while you were just trying to do your damn job.

But there were some things he could go off of (our social media didn’t give much away either since it was all about your work). Single child, self-employed with a few side-gigs here and there, owner of two cats--now that he could possibly use since he has a cat of his own.

And that was it. The cat.

He showed a few pictures of his darling little Siamese, Reggie, and there it was--the slightly wider eyes, more focused gaze, slightly titled head as he showed more pictures.

Standing there so close to him gave him the opportunity to catch your faint scent. Like fresh rain and forest berries. Only, you moved away too quickly for him to revel any longer than a mere second. Too short to savour something so addictive--something he caught his thoughts drifting off to that night, replaying the same scene in his head over and over and over again.

How could he lock away that memory, preserve it like a flower encased in ice, without it fading? How could he keep smelling that scent without it fading away?

The thought of never smelling that beautiful scent the moment he woke up, the moment he slept, every moment he breathed--that broke something in him. He had to have you.

Besides, why wouldn’t you accept his proposal? He was your saviour, the person who could bring out the best in you and banish those flaws surrounding you. It was a win-win.

For the next few months, Seokjin orchestrated meetings between you, some though his agent in the form of more shoots (you couldn’t really say no since the pay couldn’t hurt even if spending time with him mentally did) and some though “coincidences” like ‘bumping’ into your go-to supermarket or closest park to your apartment or favourite café.

Private investigators are truly a God-send.

In the beginning, you were more than uncomfortable seeing him around so much to the point you began to avoid those places. Tut tut tut, did you really think it was that easy to get rid of him? He was still confused as to why you were so unnerved by his friendliness, no longer remembering how he treated you when you first met.

The more you tried to avoid him, the more you saw him, until you were exhausted to the point of accepting your current situation. Yes, it’s weird having Seokjin being there every time you decide to leave your house, but this was getting ridiculous and despite your love for sleep, you were getting sick and tired of being locked up in the house and spending money on petrol to hid around town.

So, the two of you became friends. Or that’s what Seokjin believed while you were simply humouring him until he gets bored and leaves you alone. It’s not like you were unaware of his strange fascination with you, but you’ve dealt with worse figures and he seemed harmless.

How wrong you were...

He pointed things out about you like the acne on your skin (it was just a spot on your cheek) and the worn-out fabric of your clothes despite the cold (you felt warm when you left the house that day), and though you often got annoyed at him pointing out and exaggerating things about you, it was admittedly nice how he gifted you things to help with it. A man who’s occupation required him to look good, he used all the best products and wore expensive brands, so his gifts were actually helpful.

However, it did take a while for you to be completely comfortable with accepting such expensive things, but one thing you had learned about Seokjin is that he was nothing if not relentless.

As time passed, you grew to accept his criticisms and help since they had actually seemed to be true. Yes, he was still as clingy as ever, but some sense of compassion within you grew for the man. He seemed so alone, maybe he just needed a friend.

That was your theory, until he asked you on a date.

Food lodged in your throat, your fist pounding at your chest to get some air into it. “Sorry, what?” you coughed.

Seokjin frowned at the brash way you hit your body--choking or not, you should at least have a bit more grace than that. But more so than that, he was upset of you initial reaction to his statement. “Ready for our date tonight?”

“What?” The corner of your lips quirked up a little, brows furrowed to show exactly how perplexed you were without being unkind. “Could you repeat that?”

His head tilted to the side, looking confused. “Why should I? You said you were free last week and could do tonight.”

Eyes narrowing, you wracked your brain for any memory of the sort. “No, I don’t think I said that last week. Hell, you didn’t even ask me out last week.” You kept your voice low, afraid of any passer-bys eavesdropping on your conversation.

The two of you were sat on a random bench in your favourite park, your daily walks were now accompanied by him ever since he started popping up several months ago. Deciding it was time to take a break, Seokjin found the most ‘appropriate’ bench under the shade of a rather tall oak and tugged you along. He sprung that question on you while you were mid-granola bar.

“Yes, I did. It was Tuesday, we just finished up at our shoot--you had that beige jacket I bought you in one hand and a vanilla latte in the other--and I asked you when I walked you to your car. I remember it as clear as day.” His eyes looked hurt as he said, “don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Uh...” You tried to think back to that day, no longer surprised by his detailed recollection since you were used to his freakishly good memory by now. But you could barely remember that evening, nevermind a conversation you had when the only thing on your mind was a nap, but you doubted you would’ve agreed to it anyway. “Sorry, Seokjin, but I don’t recall you ever asking me that. I... I must’ve been frazzled or... something.”

He sighed, clearly disappointed in you--and although he was a great actor, he didn’t seem like he was faking this at all. Because in his mind, that conversation really did happen--even if it didn’t. He couldn’t ask you with the risk of rejection, so his brain simply overwrote what happened that day as a... coping mechanism of sorts. You, however, weren’t aware of this--how could you be?

“What should I do now? Booked the reservation and everything...” he muttered, eyes fixed in this hands which twiddled with the hem of his sweater. It was a sign of discomfort and vulnerability you weren’t familiar with, so this display had rattled you a little.

In a rush to try to spare his feelings, you offered him something else. “Why don’t we still go? As friends?”

His sharp glance of sadness at your face told you it was the wrong thing to say. “Wouldn’t be the same. I had it all set up for date-date for you and I--not a friend-date. Nevermind...”

He moved to stand, acting as if your mere presence burned his heart so in a state of panic and guilt, you blurted out, “okay, we’ll treat it as a date-date!” His head spun fast enough to make you think it might fly clean off his shoulders. Catching on before he thought anything different, you added, “but only this once.”

“Again,” he stood up, ready to leave you to deal with the aftermath of whatever this conversation was, “you wouldn’t be putting any feeling into it so there isn’t a point...”

As you watched his form begin to retreat, your hand shot out to grab his wrist. “I’ll try... I can’t guarantee anything but I’ll try to see you in that way just this once--that’s all you can ask of me at this point.”

“... Deal.”

It was not just that once.

Seokjin certainly had a serpent's tongue on him, the ability to convince you to another ‘date-date’ came too easy for him for it to be human. The first date, he took you to a restaurant near a beach for a candle-lit dinner, ending the night with ice cream and a walk in the moonlight. By now, you were used to his obvious displays of wealth yet the nature of this had you more uncomfortable than the first time--as if he expected you to be impressed by how much money he made, as if he expected you to fall into his arms and love you because of it, just like everyone else had.

And yet, with each date he forced upon you, you grew more and more resistant to him, to this--whatever ‘this’ was.

Came up with ways to avoid meeting him after it got to a point where you were more than uneasy; he tried to kiss you on your fourth ‘date’, but you swerved out of the way just in time while using pandas in the zoo you were at as a distraction. Sometimes you were ill, sometimes you were busy with work. But with every excuse, he grew suspicious. In retaliation, he made it harder and harder to avoid him as he kept showing up at your house (how did he know where you lived?) and the places you were supposed to have worked, just to ‘check in’ and ‘see how things were going’.

You tried to brush it off as his usual clinginess, but there was a nagging thought at the back of your mind that suggested otherwise.

Then his normal comments about how you presented yourself grow more insulting the longer you avoided him. No longer about your skincare and clothes, but about how you trampled on his heart when all he has done his love you--and though you never particularly cared for how you were perceived by him, but his incessant verbal harassment was close to bringing you to your knees.

Hardly having the energy to fight back after facing such behaviour for a number for a number of months, you thought it would have been better just to give in. It’ll make him stop, right? And Seokjin did--he stopped for a bit, noting your complacency, so he rewarded you for it.

There’s a term for it, you were sure.

Love-bombing.

He showered you with gifts you no longer had the energy to refuse, kisses you no longer had the energy to dodge, affection you no longer had the energy to shield yourself again.

He kept saying that it wasn’t so bad now that you weren’t resisting, and the more he said it, the more you started to believe him too. Sure, you couldn’t breathe in this suffocated atmosphere that was Seokjin, but you weren’t tired anymore. You could reserve your energy for other things like work. You just had to accept he was there in your life forever.

There were, no doubt, blips here and there. Sides of the man you thought you knew surfacing once you had moved in with him (he wouldn’t let it go until you did, and you were so exhausted). You began to notice certain tendencies that often appear out-of-the-blue--throwing things, slamming doors, yelling out of nowhere. He’d never hit you, not when he loved your body almost as much as his own.

Yet, that was still not the reason you were so terrified of him.

It was his behaviour afterwards; as if at the flick of a switch, he pretended as if everything was alright after one  of his ‘episodes’. In fact, you had begun to realise something--he never remembered he did anything. Either his memory was altered or wiped al together, like a hallucination or black-out.

“Tell me something, baby.”

Humming in response, your gaze moved from the crossword puzzle over to Seokjin. He had that clench in his jaw that told you nothing good, despite his lax body sat next to you on the sofa.

He turned his phone off, throwing it to the side haphazardly, and turned to you. “You love me, right?” he asked, hand rubbing up and down your thigh in a seemingly comforting gesture.

“Yes,” you recited, already used to this question popping up constantly and uttering the right answer to go with it. But the familiar churning of your gut told you that this wasn’t all.

“I’m the only person allowed to love you... right?”

“Right...”

“So tell me,” his tongue ran along his bottom lip, as if trying to smooth out the words before they left it, “why do you let that coworker of yours love you? Is my own not enough for you?”

The image of a fellow photographer that you were paired up with--Yeonjun, his name is--popped up in your head, since it was the only coworker you had. He was friendly and nice, not too bad of a person to work with on this collaborative project you were currently doing.

You had a faint idea this would come sooner or later, since Seokjin’s irrationality was something you were somewhat familiar in dealing with by this point. And yet, you still couldn’t fully believe he was really saying this. “What do you mean?”

“I think you know--what with all the side-glances he gives you and offering to hang out during breaks. Not to mention how he get’s a bit too touchy-feely.”

You were no idiot; Yeonjun’s affections for you were fairly obvious but so long as he didn’t cross any boundaries you were uncomfortable with. The most he ever did was hug you, even just a gentle nudge with his elbow when he made a joke (admittedly, he was funny). He acted as if you were friends, and any feelings he had beyond that was something he never burdened you with so you never said anything.

“He’s just being nice.”

“Nice is one way to put it.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes to land back to the puzzle in front of you--already seeing this as a waste of time.

“Don’t do that--it’s rude,” he chastised you, fingers curling around your chin to rip your face towards him again. “Tell me, why do you let him?”

“His feelings are his own,” you said, lips slightly puckered with how he was holding you. “They’re not my responsibility...”

“So you like his affections?”

“No, that’s not what I--”

His fingers loosen from their grip as he stands, pacing in front of you. This was the build-up.

“That’s not what I mean,” you whisper. Already, you’re aware of the pattern, not wanting to make it worse despite the fact of how it escalates too fast for you to really do much damage control.  First, the pacing. Then, the swearing. Next, the stillness. Last, the aggressive displays.

“What do you mean? If I was enough for you, then why do you let him be like that?!” His hands gesture around to add emphasis and there is always that involuntary fear that creeps up your throat.

“It’s not as if I can control how he feels...”

“But you can put an end to it so why haven’t you fucking done that already?!”

Your eyes squeeze shut briefly. The swearing.

“It’s not that simple--”

“The fuck it isn’t ‘simple’. Just tell the bastard to fuck off.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Seokjin’s body froze to a stop right in front of you. His large hands now tucked inside his grey sweatpants, his eyes don’t move from yours--unblinking, his chest not rising and falling with breath. The stillness.

“Your ‘best’,” he sneers, voice cold and detached, “isn’t good enough. It’s never good enough.” He leans closer, thumb brushing against your flushed cheek while you try to prevent the bile burning your throat from coming up even more.

Moments pass, and he takes a few steps back. Gives you a bit of room to breathe but not for long. It’s the calm before the storm and by this point there’s nothing stopping the final stage from reaching its climax. Nothing you say will stop him, and yet you still try.

“Okay.”

He blinks a few times. “That’s it?” his voice raises. “‘Okay’ is all you have to say? Looks like our little photographer's already done a number on your heart.” His teeth are bared and clenched in a terrifying smile, white as your knuckles have now become as you clutch the crinkling paper, puzzle forgotten.

Seokjin grabs his phone and throws it against the wall, hard enough for the cracking of the screen to ring through the air, louder than his cursing yell. The condition of the phone gets even worse when it hits the hardwood floor, shattering even more but that doesn’t seem to phase him.

 In fact, his tense shoulders relax almost immediately; yours, on the other hand, are locked up--as is the rest of your body, and it’ll remain in this state until your deep in sleep. So deep, even your body isn’t aware of the man cradling you from behind.

Huffing, he sits down beside you. “You know what, I’ll just tell him. The disgusting thing about men is that they can’t take the hint when a girl doesn’t want them until someone else tell them.” The irony doesn’t slip past you, but you’re too busy focusing on extinguishing the flames of fear that burns your blood.

He pats his pants as if feeling for something. “Hey,” he says, his voice back to normal without any malice behind it. A switch flicked. “have you seen my ph--” His eyes scan the room, landing on the damaged item he was looking for.

“Oh god,” he muttered, retrieving it to assess his destruction. The screen lit up, showing cracks covering every inch. Barely even readable, the touchscreen no longer functioning. “How did you end up like this?” He looks at it once more before placing it on the table beside me. “Looks like I’ll have to get a new phone. Do you want another one? Yours is a bit old.”

“Whatever you think is best,” you utter, not meeting his gaze.

“New phone for both of us it is.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before bringing you into the nook between his arm and torso. “I was thinking we could get the ones I did the ad for...”

Seokjin continues on the conversation as if the last few minutes never happened, talking about exciting things that happened during that shoot, then the shoot he’s currently doing now.

Tears clog your eyes, unable to see much of your surroundings but you continue on the conversation. You’re in a position where he can’t see your face, but if he did, it’d be like all the other times.

Whispers in your ear of how he was just trying to save you from your mistakes, how you’ll always have him to fix you when you slip up. Always.

Years pass by, with very much the same song-and-dance, slowly driving you insane. That little spark of fear never really died away, but it also never grew more than that. Unable to predict his mood always had you on edge, and the whiplash you would get from his behaviour made you jumpy.

Weary of the next little thing that made him snap.

He ground into you that you needed him. That he’d always have you, no matter what you did. It was like a constant knocking on the door and when someone knocks on the door enough times, eventually you answer it.

With how Seokjin was, you became secluded, afraid of any sort of contact you having would trigger that switch.

By isolating you, by having such a hold on your actions and feelings, he erased your exit. Now, it felt almost impossible to leave.

Almost.

☕︎ If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask!

[voidtouched-blue]

@taleswritten semi-plotted starter for Dean Winchester

"Oh my gods! I love your costume! Can we take a picture with you?"

It took a lot of effort for the Imp to not wiggle her ears in delight of that admiring question. She looked up from the map in her hands to see three young human adults standing excitedly next to one another. Her starlit eyes glimmered in joy at their enthusiastic approach, a toothy grin spread across her lips in reply.

"But of course you may!" She folded up the map, flourishing her movements with a humbled bow as she stood up straight. "It would be my honest pleasure to become part of your living tapestry, noble lords and lady!"

The manner of speech akin to that of earlier ages came easy to the woman. After all, she was immortal to a degree. Cyra had lived during the very same ages that the modern peoples had tried so hard to replicate for entertainment such as this. Which is why the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire had taken her interest in the first place. Between the many events that peppered the waking hours of the faire's working time, and the scores of unique merchants that had managed to replicate and improve the methods of their ancestors had always been such a treat to witness and observe. While the magic that some of these 'metaphysical' traders claimed to possess had been nothing more than a room full of sneezed pixie dust, it was the marvel of the patrons that warmed her little fae heart.

The supernatural being tucked the map into her belt, holding her arms out beside her for the two who wanted her photograph to join her in the image. She rested those clawed fingers on their respective shoulders, held her pose and smile while the third grinned and tapped at their device. A few shared laughs and compliments, and the group had stepped away to continue their weekend adventure into the rest of the faire.

Every time she had showed up to these events, there were always a handful of curious humans who asked about her costume, how she was able to make the horns look so realistic, how her ears moved and felt like they were real, and a few other inquiries made in awe of her authenticity. Cyra was no stranger to the marvels of modern technology. While she didn't have these objects of electric convenience for herself, she did make a point to learn what they were used for, and to understand the basics in the event that she had been required to use a 'cell phone'.

Of course, it would be foolish for her to tell any of those passersby that everything she wore had either been an authentic relic of the past, or something she had been able to barter for from the various vendors at previous faires she'd visited. Of course, leather could be enchanted and made to last far longer without decay than if it had survived through the ages without her interference, but cloth would not be so lucky. It was to her great fortune that the choice to do pop-up vendors on occasion made her enough of that modern currency to keep her wardrobe well stocked for the next century. She had no doubt in her mind that this revelry of the past would continue well beyond its' amused relevance in current years.

Yet she had been drawn specifically to this venue in particular. Being born of one of the oldest Gods in human history, Cyra felt particularly connected to these events that held reverence for the slumbering deities that awaited their reawakening with the renewed human worship. While her service to Cernunnos had no longer held any sort of obligatory action on her part, it warmed her heart to know that there were some who still believed in the swarming mass of monotheistic believers. Gods only had power if they had prayers from the devoted. The only thing keeping them alive in their stasis was the natural human need to preserve their history. Of the many traits mankind had, this one was her favorite.

Cyra pulled the map back out from her belt, unfolding it and flipping it over to observe the list of events for that weekend in particular. It was interesting to see it mentioned that there would be a welcoming ceremony for the season of Fall, which- in itself wasn't peculiar as every faire had their own way to celebrate the change of seasons, but it was the rites mentioned that caught her attention. Born of the will of the Horned God, it would have been remiss of her to not to observe. After all, it wasn't often that humans even elected to offer worship freely to a God of Eld, much less one that represented mankind's harmony with nature. Yet it was the name of the ritual welcoming that had been incorrect in accordance with her own knowledge. Had this meant to be true to the annual traditions of their respective time, then there would not have been Latin in the summary of the event.

Without direct access to one of those portable world wide web devices, there was little she could find of the individuals responsible for organizing the event. Her role in this was merely meant to correct and educate the hosts on their level of authenticity. She could easily approach as an expert on the matter, albeit costumed. Perhaps she could get away with appearing as an interested party enthusiastic in playing her "role" appropriately as any good Imp would.

Where to start...now that is a good question!

The thought made her smile.

She turned the unfolded sheet over in her hands, returning to the enormous map of the faire grounds to see if she might arrive at the stage early and find it's organizers present. It was her hope that they would be open to receiving expert criticism of their rather lackluster choice to include Latin phrases in their chant. It was with a gentle nod, a silent approval for her resolve, that she folded the pamphlet back up and returned it to be tucked into her belt. Grabbing the staff that had been leaned up against the tree, she set off away from the food stalls that lined the dusted walkway towards the more wooded paths of the faire. Her tail flicked and swayed behind her for just a few seconds before she schooled it back into submission.

If she was going to appear as just an enthusiastic LARP-er, then her very real appendages needed to at least feel the part, too.

[xamassed]

⟬ @ofhope ⟭

What… kind of anything would Dan Heng like? A book? He had plenty of books, March was sure he had almost every book every world had to offer at this point. A blanket? A blanket could be good, something fluffy, big, anything to take away from the harshness of the ground he was insistent he slept upon. Maybe another spear? Another pair of shoes? Terribly impersonal. Terribly not-special.

Plus… all of it involved a distraction, and call March 7th selfish, she liked having Dan Heng's attention busied by her every now and then. Would it be a bad call, the gift in her hands? Would he see the message beyond it, analyze it as he always did? Lip bruised between her teeth, uncharacteristically torn between two options… had it not been about this day, March would've dove headfirst. Had it not been about Dan Heng, March would've… well, not been balancing on one foot, then the other, eyeing the hallway like a promised getaway instead of a pathway to his room.

March partook a breath, bypassed knocking altogether (such would allow a brief pause, one where she could scurry from the actions she was about to commit), and strode in front of one Dan Heng, poring over data March hadn't any knowledge of, nor would understand. Discarding her haul upon his makeshift bed, March took a breath.

"This is for Cloud Piercer," his spear, honed and up-kept, as if it were a part of him -- looped 'round her index finger, a durable charm, showcasing an outline of the Express they had all come to refer to as 'home.' "It's a charm! You're supposed to hook it on the… uh… back, I think? It's to remind you that, no matter what battle you have to face, you've always got home to look forward to!"

Scratching at her neck, March snatched up a small box next, etched in lettering she didn't quite recognize.

"This is a bunch of different teas! Whenever we first arrived in Penacony, I did some research: they've got a special brew that helps you fall asleep faster! I sometimes hear you rummaging around in here super late into the night, so… I thought this could help! They all taste really yummy, too! I asked clerk after clerk their own personal recommendations, so… I got you a whole bunch! They're not all for sleeping, and the ones that are have a special mark on them!"

One last thing.

A leather-bound book, thick and brimming. At its front: A Year on the Express! -- written in pinks, and a particular sort of green Dan Heng, likely, knew very well. Stickers littered the front, travel destinations usually, places they each could recognize and creatures they each had learned the names of. Flicking it open, March went page-by-page, location by location, all containing photographs from a time before the Trailblazer had made it to the Express.

March 7th in ill-fitting clothing. Dan Heng, hair a smidge too long. March's smile wide; Dan Heng's, nowhere in sight. The same poses from him, differing ones from her, the scenery changing in ways both subtle and not. Reaching the end?

… The first smile she had captured of his, sporting his signature peace sign as March beamed at the camera. "I've kept most of these to myself, so… I thought it was about time you saw them! This day, on some planet long long ago, was supposed to be one for celebrating those you love. So… I wanted to remind you that, in spite of everything you've gone through… you always have a home, here."

And with me went unsaid, but with the way March smiled?

Words needn't be said.

She barged in without knocking, which wasn't the least bit surprising. March 7th was infamous for striding in with little regard for the people inside, but what he didn't anticipate was the spread of gifts she left on his nest of blankets and pillows.

From his place at a brightly lit terminal, Dan Hang stared. He wanted to ask her what she was doing and why she decided to lay her things there of all places, but he learned quickly that those ( technically ) weren't her possessions.

They were gifts, which meant they had been intended for him the moment they were spotted.

The urge to sate his own curiosity was quashed under the weight of her generosity and heartfelt explanations. But while she spoke, he edged closer.

Cloud Piercer wasn't meant to be decorated, he thought. A small part of him didn't think that a cute key chain ought to dangle from a weapon so deeply steeped in his sordid past, but how could be reject her when her intention was to bring him comfort? It was silly and almost childish, but the notion did warm his heart.

Carefully, he attached the keychain to his spear while she continued to explain each and every thought behind the gift she brought.

Tea was a practical gift, and he appreciated it more than he did the idea of Himeko and her coffee beans. The sentiment behind it made him curious: if she was awake to hear him in the midst of insomnia, then wasn't she suffering too? What was she doing up at those late hours? Not having rightfully given nightmares, he hoped. She didn't deserve restless nights and guilt keeping her from the sleep she needed.

Though, if he were honest with himself, he wouldn't mind her company during those long hours. A cup of tea in their hands, the air quiet but filled with company.

He never said as much, but he did the moments when they could simply be near one another.

Dan Hang parted his lips, sincere thanks waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he was forced to bite it back when a book was placed into his hands.

It had been a whole year.

To a being like him, a year was nothing. It was part of a second, part of a part of a second. It wasn't even a fraction of a heartbeat. It was smaller, insignificant and forgettable.

Except he felt this this past year would be one of the millions that would stick with him. It wasn't that a lot had happened, and in same cases, it was hardly what had happened. Without the people around him, these years wouldn't have mattered.

Himeko, Mr. Yang, Pom-Pom and now the Trailblazer — but most prominently of all, March 7th.

He wiggled in closer, unable to resist the urge to travel through the last year with her. "I remember that." He tapped at the picture of her in the clothes that hung from her body. "You had just joined us, and none of us had clothes that could fit you properly. You had to borrow one of my shirts."

Dan Heng followed along with her, the smallest twinge of shame striking him when he noticed the noticeable difference in the length of his hair. It was an old photo, but it made him consider having it trimmed. The less he looked like his previous incarnation, the better.

A pattern became evident the longer he looked through the photos.

She was always smiling, and he never did.

Part of him wanted to apologize. Everyone, not just March alone, did their best to make him comfortable and happy. They spoke to him, they fed him, they spend quality time with him. All of that, and he couldn't bring himself to crack a smile. He knew why, and he knew it was a perfectly valid reason, but the acceptance shown to him made him wonder if he ought to give just a little.

And then he saw it — a smile.

His smile! It was small, but it wasn't forced. Awkward, maybe, but sincere. Something had given him a reason to be happy, and he had a sneaking suspicion that the reason had been beside him the whole time.

"Celebrating the ones you love. . ."

Surely, she meant it in the broad sense. She loved her crewmates, her friends, the family that had taken her in. March's heart was larger and softer than his own, but he couldn't imagine that he was special.

Yet to some extent, he had to be. He couldn't turn away and claim with full confidence that he didn't matter to her she had poured her heart and soul into her gifts. He was important, and she put the most effort into making that clear as day.

"Thank you, March." He took the book, closed it and set it aside. The tea was momentarily forgotten, his spear propped against its usual spot on the wall, his data placed on the back burner of his mind.

Affection was a hurtle he needed extra effort to overcome, but she gave him the boost he needed to take one of her hands into both of his. It was a small gesture, simple and temporary, but he squeezed her hand and offered another smile, this one a fraction brighter than the one in the old photo.