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loveatfirstwriteblog · 3 years

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A Complete Analysis of Harry Potter

Like a lot of kids, we probably grew up on Harry potter. We were obsessed and rightly so. The universe created in the world of Harry Potter was, and is, a hugely successful one because of the fact it gave kids a world where magic exists! It seemed to be a great world to live in and it made even better with the fact that it included elements of empowerment, Whether it be showing girls can be just as successful if not more in various pursuits(Hermione), or the fact that even if you have a history of bad events, you can have a good heart(Hagrid), Harry Potter teaches us a lot.

JKR has written a mind-blowing plot in a world of magic, wizards, witches, wands, potions, friendship, love. Our inner-five-year olds--and actually most of our young adult selves too--jumps around excitedly at the beautifully penned words that creates an exit out of this world and into one where magic does exist.

As you get older, though, you begin to think of Harry Potter in a more critical fashion. The thought of “oh my god, it’s magic” no longer completely overrides my mind, but more of “but what are the laws regarding this? Can people just do this whenever they want? Are there no ethics?”

No matter how much we’re going to expose the flaws and plot holes in HP now, we’ll always love the books--we grew up on them! But some things just niggle you as you get older, and that’s what we’re going to be focusing on in this post.

Something I adore about the HP books is that everyone, including the “good guys”, has flaws. Harry has a “save the world alone, do first, think later” complex, a driving force that makes him go save Sirius, Ron is very, very insecure to a point where he ditches Harry twice, probably when Harry needed him the most, Hermione is a judgemental, narrow-minded nag (her thoughts on Luna, divination, Trelawney, basically anything that doesn’t fit her black and white world), Molly Weasley is misogynistic and blatantly favourites her children—probably being one of the main factors behind Ron’s insecurities, Arthur is condescending towards Muggles and makes several comments you cringe at while reading the books as a young adult/adult, Sirius, Snape, and Lupin still haven’t let go of their childhood grudges and hatred, etc etc etc.

These flaws are what make these characters so three-dimensional, so layered, so human. But the problem was, most of these flaws are never intentionally acknowledged. And honestly, that could have been such a good character arc, because the main characters are mostly students. No student is the same through their teenage years—they change, they evolve, they get over their flaws, they try to better themselves. I would have loved to see Ron becoming his own person, Hermione opening her mind up a little, etc.

Neville is not one of my favourites, but I love his growth and development, from someone who was scared of his potions professor to a man who faced down Lord Voldemort. Ginny Weasley could have had character development, from the trauma she went through in second year, but that was never written in. She went through this terrifying ordeal when she was only twelve years old, and jump to a year or two later and she’s absolutely fine, with no transition from her trauma whatsoever.

Some of JKR’s characters are brilliantly written and fleshed out, but some of her others lack the structure and complexity that usually comes with being vital to the plot—Ginny Weasley for one. Her internalised misogyny also plays a huge part in the way her female characters are written. We see this again in the case of how she wrote the character of Ginny.

Ginny Weasley is not a favourite of ours (if you don’t know that by now). She feels a lot like a convenient male daydream—when she waits for Harry to notice her by dating other guys, gets annoyed by Hermione “not knowing quidditch”, etc etc—and fits the “not like other girls” archetype too much, almost like she was made for it (hint hint). She’s portrayed to be strong-willed, spunky, and independent, and I love the idea, but I really don’t see it. To me, she’s a very shallow character, the least fleshed out one.

Just like James Potter wasn’t necessarily redeemed just because JKR said he was, and Ginny isn’t interesting just because JKR writes that she is.

Hermione also fits the archetype, but she’s JKR’s self-insert, so we really can’t say much about that.

To make things worse, Ginny and Hermione are pitted against each other in a very subtle way. Ginny is the sporty, pretty, flirty girl who’s never single from book 4. Hermione is the not-conventionally-attractive, nerdy girl who’s had a few dates here and there but never a relationship. They’re very different characters (the only thing they have in common is the archetype) but they’re against each other in the defence of Harry.

Another place where JKR’s misogyny shows up is the way other girls are written. Lavender Brown is shown as vapid and immature, just because she likes clothes and boys and didn’t know how to handle her first relationship. Cho Chang is perceived as shallow because she’s emotional. Pansy Parkinson is seen to be throwing herself at Draco Malfoy. The Weasleys hated Fleur because she was beautiful and sexy and French, and that was ever really resolved in the end (Molly accepted her, but we never got Ginny’s and Hermione’s opinions again). You see where we’re getting at? The typical “girly girls” are portrayed as insipid, shallow, emotional, and boring, while girls like Hermione and Ginny are seen to be fun and multilayered.

The problems with Harry Potter don’t just stop with non-fleshed out characters. There are plot devices that go unacknowledged, issues like blood purity—which is the basis of Voldemort’s tyranny—are never really resolved, huge Chekhov’s guns that aren’t fired.

A common misconception, which if cleared up could probably expose a load of problems in wizarding society by itself, is that the wizarding world is racist. It’s not racist. Muggles and Muggleborns are not a different race, they’re a different class, at least according to pureblood wizards. Mudblood is a classist insult (a direct reference to nobility blueblood and aristocracy).

Another factor that wasn’t talked about but made the HP world so complex and realistic is the inherent classism in every single pureblooded wizard, including the Weasleys.

The “Light” wizards all operate on the notion “at least I don’t kill or torture Muggles”. The Weasleys refuse to talk about Molly’s squib cousin who’s an accountant, the Longbottoms were so desperate for Neville to not be a squib they nearly killed him trying to force magic out of him, Ron makes fun of Filch for being a squib, thinks house-elves are beneath him, and confounds his driving instructor in his mid-thirties, the ministry workers kept obliviating that muggle at the quidditch World Cup, etc.

This could have been a metaphor for how small prejudices and microaggressions (kind of the wizarding equivalent of white privilege) enable discrimination and murder, if JKR had actually acknowledged it.

The parallel to Nazi Germany is very twisted and definitely shouldn’t be taken too far, but the Nazi ideology grew on the basis of everyday antisemitism, “that’s not that bad” little things. Voldemort’s circle and army grew because the wizard superiority complex festered and blew up in some people, egged on by a deeply classist society.

Ultimately, Harry Potter has very, very shoddy worldbuilding, the kind of worldbuilding that’s obsessed with answering the “what” of the wizarding world, rather than the “how” or the “why”, which is strange, considering that fantasy or dystopian-era novels’ driving plots and conflicts are usually answering the questions the worldbuilding raises--The Hunger Games and The Shadowhunter Chronicles are two of the best examples of brilliantly written YA fantasy and dystopian novels.

In HP, however, the main plot just avoids the questions the worldbuilding brings up like the bubonic plague.

Voldemort’s agenda is built on prejudice towards Muggles and Muggleborns, but the plot just validates the negative perception of them—at the end of the day, being a wizard is what’s special. The Statute of Secrecy is the foundation of the main concept—blood supremacists believe wizards shouldn’t be hidden away—but only vague, barely-there answers are given to why it exists (a Chekhov’s gun that was never fired).

There are love potions that function like date rape drugs (even Harry was given one by a girl who wanted him to ask her out), potions that force people to tell the truth, potions that literally let you disguise yourself as another person, but the ethics are never talked about, and the laws are so lax that three twelve-year-olds broke them and were never caught.

But at the same time, the worldbuilding is so authentic, because it transforms the wizarding world into straight-up fridge horror. The everyday horrors are just accepted and rolled with. A corrupt government, constant obliviation of Muggles, slavery that isn’t even talked about. These things aren’t obvious to us as readers, or to the wizards as characters, because they match up to the real world, which is filled with things that are horrifying if you dig deeper. The multiple, normalised forms of abuse, police brutality, the violence in prisons that nothing is done about, the glaringly obvious cultural problems we have with consent, etc.

The abusive authoritative figures in HP, like Rufus Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge, Dumbledore, Umbridge, etc, are so authentic because real-life politicians and people in high places of power behave that way, and their abuse is excused.

The wizarding world is just like the real world. Corrupt, prejudiced, messed up, but if you’re privileged, or at least have certain privileges, you’re probably not going to notice. The ultimate problem is that the plot doesn’t acknowledge a lot of fridge horror things are messed up either, which is why it miserably fails.

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honestsycrets · 4 years

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Hi, Soldier | [ Alfred x Reader ]

❛ pairing | soldier!alfred x librarian!reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | waiting for alfred to come home, the reader fixes the books in the library.

❛ tags | library au, wwii soldier!alfred, implied war time violence, loss of vision.

❛ sy’s notes | i wrote this fic for @maggiescarborough ‘s birthday. she asked me for a library alfred au a while ago and i just couldn’t get it to what i liked until now. happy birthday baby!

It was too high, you thought as you reached up on your toes. The cart squeaked outrageously as you got to the final books to stock that day. Your boss and husband’s cousin-in-law, Mr. Sigurd Ragnarsson, gave you leave after you would finish stocking this.

You never knew when there might be another.

When another air raid would come down upon your head, that was. It was war. Life was forced to consider to the best of its ability and still, you might wake up in the morning in a large bed, where he was meant to be, and feel the cold space beside you growing in its intensity.

When you received post, it was with that fleeting hope that another might join your growing bucket of letters from war. The ladder had fallen off the track again. This time, your brother-in-law wasn’t here to fix it. Nor your husband-- who always had an answer.

“I can fix it,” you’re favourite spunky niece-in-law would say. You glanced off to her, holding books between her legs. When her mother was off working as a receptionist, you would often watch her until Sigurd had the opportunity to get off of managing his many companies to get her. Today was nothing short of the same.

“After we finish with these books,” you gesture toward your hand when you see it. The edition from 1926, The Private Life of Helen of Troy, which you had not read. It throws you back to the first moment you met your soldier.

He came in a hurry, dabbling his fingers through books, before he’d have to return to base. While all the other men were in the pubs, he found himself here, leafing through books hoping for one to read. You hadn’t noticed him as you squeaked along the aisles-- until coming upon his aisle, you suddenly became aware of the tall soldier who took up most of the room.

Your lips were suddenly chapped and dry. Your knowledge of soldiers was limited to the men your sister brought home and to be fair, they were not the reading type. He pulled a book free, pulling it into his open hand, and you found yourself looking down to your own. The Private Life of Helen of Troy-- it went there.

You left your useless clump of a cart, stuffing the books related to this section in your arms, and clopped over his way. It was then that the soldier glanced at you with curious, glittery eyes that contrasted against to his finely combed black hair on his head and lip. You tugged the ladder just to side of him, squeaking as your mary janes took the first step, smoothing out your skirt with emphasis on not flashing him with your undergarments and reached-- that was were problem brewed, because you couldn’t quite reach the area you needed to be.

Where your soldier stood.

“Let me help you,” he spoke, his voice low and smooth, like the honey in your tea. You drew your hand back when you felt him push the ladder on its wheels toward the section of historical period books. Then with a clop, clop, clop, the soldier climbed with his black boots up behind you. He was close enough to feel this thick, ironed uniform pressing up against your yellow dress.

“Oh--”

“Right behind you,” he muttered as he slipped his hand over yours. “You’re alright?”

“Yes, I mean--” you gave pause. “Yes.”

“The Roman non-fiction is right there, then.” He muttered softly and you could feel the fibers of his moustache against the shell of your ear as a hand, crisp with a playfulness in slipping the book into its hole with a small push.

You were somewhat disappointed when he slipped off from behind you, allowing you to set the last of the books in their place before turning down the ladder. The soldier held out his hand to help you down even-- and despite uncertainty, you took his hand to the safe ground.

“Thank you,” you said. “The cart-- and the ladder aren’t the best tools. They’re broke half the time anyway.”

“I can fix that for you.” The soldier blurted out before he seemed to register what he said or the limitations of it. Maybe Mr. Ragnarsson didn’t want you to-- but you had the sudden feeling-- he wouldn’t care.

“I didn’t catch your name, soldier.”

“Alfred.”

You nibbled on your lip as you came to, your little niece squeaking something about being hungry. “There’s some bread in my bag,” you gestured. “I’ll be out in just a second. This is the last section.”

The top bookshelf was just barely out of reach. You flexed your mary janes, hopping to work every last inch out of your body on the first wrung of the ladder when a hand came up behind you, snatching the book and easing it into its proper placement.

“Broken it already?” you heard, and as you whipped around, you recognized your soldier standing there. He was wrapped tight in his slim fitting military attire, his other hand supporting his weight on a cane he really had little use for.

“Alfred!”

You slapped his chest repeatedly. “You’re here! You’re here!”

He paused for a moment, looking at you, with one eye covered by the darkness of an eyepatch. “I am, did you miss me?” he pressed. “Or were you--”

“Your eye!” you noticed at last, bringing your hands to his smooth cheek, turning over his cheek to inspect him. You would have brought your hands up to it, but decided rather against it, smoothing your hands past the side of his neck to rest upon his shoulders.

“Yes well,” Alfred looks down, then up again, fixing a cigarette to the side of his mouth. “Ubbe said I looked older this way. We had better fetch Áslaug-- she was in your bag. I might be too, if I don’t each something other than war provisions soon.”

He does. Not in the sense of his age, but the tiredness that carries in his eyes as he glazes them to your squeaking cart, dragging over the ground. You stuff the books into places they don’t belong, whirling the half broken cart to the end of the aisle before your hand would find his thick armcoat.

“I hardly care about how you look,” you admit, knowing you would likely rush him home, make him something that your meager budget as a librarian couldn’t afford. It would be worth it. You tugged him out of the aisle, your fingers laced in his larger hand. “Only that you’re home safe.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever

#Alfred x Reader #Alfred the Great/Reader #Vikings x reader #Vikings/Reader #honestsycrets #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #another one coming today too!

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eerythingisshaka · 5 years

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Play Though? Pt. 2

Part 1

(Dad!M’Baku x Black!OC)

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: I started the first chapter as a Reader insert, but I’m starting to feel more for original characters, so our main girl, Xavier’s mom and M’Baku’s love interest is Remi!

Remi had a problem, a pretty big one. A couple of days had passed since the unexpected friendship between M’Baku and both of their children. Xavier had talked his mother’s ear off to death about his spunky little new friend he made, and it made Remi genuinely happy to hear. She wanted her son to get in touch with his new friend again and have a solid friend, however thanks to her father, that may not happen.

M’Baku thought he was slick giving his number to her instead of the other way around. This forced Remi’s hand to have to make the decision and time to make the phone call and invite them over for the playdate that was promised. And sure, if Remi said she didn’t want to see M’Baku again, it would be a lie. But she didn’t even know where to start with him.

“X, get your backpack, it’s time to go baby.” Remi says, sliding her shoes on as she grabs her keys.

Xavier drags his feet into the kitchen along with his backpack on the floor. “Mama.”

“You didn’t pack your game in there right? I don’t want a kid to steal it.”

“Mama.”

Remi grabs her purse talking to herself. “If I am late again, I’ll fire my damn self. Shit!”

“Mama!” Xavier yells out.

“Oh! Mama’s sorry, I know that’s a bad word.”

“Daddy say that all the time.” Xavier says matter of factly.

Remi turns to him with her hand on her hip. “Excuse me? ALL the time?”

Xavier nods, picking at his nose. “Mama I don’t wanna go.”

Remi sighs walking over to her son and kneeling at his level. “Why not? You had a good time last week. You have friends there.”

He shrugs. “I don’t feel good.”

Remi puts a hand to his forehead. “You’re not hot...Is it your tummy?”

Xavier shakes his head. “Sometimes I don’t wanna go is all.”

Remi looks at her son’s round face lovingly. Her eyes looking back at her has always been a quick source of pride for Remi. Her hair texture, face shape, and bits of personality brought back memories of when she was a little girl. She took her time with him in moments like these.

“Well son, you know how Mama has to go to work everyday?”

“Not Saturday!” He corrects.

Remi chuckles. “Yes, smart boy. Not everyday do I work, But when I have to I go.”

“But you’re big, you have to.”

Remi smirks. “I am, but you have things to do too. Like keeping your toys cleaned up, and eating your peas and carrots.”

Xavier crosses his arms. “I don’t like those.”

“I know X. But think when I wasn’t feeling good on your birthday and you wanted your favorite blueberry waffles and sausage links with lots of syrup and scrambled eggs?”

Xavier’s eyes widen with excitement. “Can I have some now?!”

Remi shakes her head. “No, but do you hear me? I was sick and still gave your your favorite breakfast?” Xavier nods. “So things like that happen. You do stuff you don’t want to because you want to do right for other people. I wanted you to have a good birthday even though I didn’t feel good.”

“Whose birthday is it?” Xavier asks.

Remi hangs her head from this merry go round of a conversation. “No one’s. But you have friends and learning to do, which you need to be a big strong boy, so we have to go.”

Xavier pouts heavily as she puts on his backpack and pushes him out the door and in the car. Once she pulled up to daycare, Xavier’s face is covered in tear trails and snot bubbles, grips her hand tightly as she walks him to the entrance. A smiling worker greets Xavier happily.

“Ohhh, are we having a rough morning?”

Remi smiles tightly. “Kind of. He wasn’t feeling like going out today.”

The daycare worker kneels down. “Well I’m glad you came. Today is when we learn about planting with crushed up Oreo cookies and gummi worms and all kinds of good stuff. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Xavier rubs his eyes hard nodding his head. Remi rustles his braids. “Sure does! You go ahead with Ms. Faye and have a good day. I’ll be back soon, ok?”

Xavier, hugs her legs with one healthy squeeze before going in. Ms Faye stays back with Remi for a minute.

“He’s been really great with the other children lately. First whole week without even a threat of an incident.”

Remi nods, folding her arms over herself. “I think that the word ‘threat’ is a bit strong but I appreciate the update.”

Ms. Faye shrugs. “Look, it’s tough on everybody involved. But we try to be supportive and encouraging so he is reminded that no one is against him. Does he display any aggression at home?”

Remi shakes her head. “And once again, please watch the words you use to describe his behavior. Aggressive? Never. He is a mama’s boy, turns into a puddle whenever I call him out on the smallest thing.”

Ms. Faye nods stoically. “Ok. I know he used to mention visiting his father more often, has he been able to get time with him?’

Remi shifted nervously. Xavier’s father was a sore subject for Remi to dive into at any point in time. He is a slick talker, big dreamer which was half the reason Remi gave him the time of day. He has a way of making her feel like a sinking ship was still rising on the other side of the surface if you hold your breath long enough. But his promises never came to fruition and led her and eventually her son down a road that they barely got out of unscathed. She’d hoped Xavier was still young enough to not be worried about the troubles of the past, but it doesn’t seem that way.

“We have plans to see him soon, yeah. Just don’t bring it up to him, that’s a little too heavy to have on his mind when I’m not there. Ok?” Remi says. Ms. Faye nods knowingly before bidding her farewell. Remi checks her phone: of course time got away from her again.

Remi zooms over to the beauty shop, parking in the back as she jogs in the back door to make it to her chair.

“Uh uh! I know you not trying to get past us that easily Re!”

The voice that called her out belonged to Patricia or Trixie, the shop owner. She’s a middle aged Black woman who looked like Storm’s auntie, grey locs and all sitting atop her head in a bun and headscarf. She’s putting a roller set into an elderly woman’s hair.

“I’m sorry Trixie. I got behind dropping my son off at daycare.” Remi says, prepping her area.

Trixie fixes her mouth before speaking. “You spoil that boy too much. Why don’t you have my cousin watch him? She run a daycare from her house and won’t charge you an arm and leg to do it.”

“Are we just gonna forget the trap house she lives next to? Or how she turns deaf and blind soon as someone calls her on that phone she stays glued to 24/7.” Remi says.

Trixie waves her off. “Oh the boy gotta learn how to handle himself in the world eventually. When his father coming by to get him?”

Remi calls a waiting patron over to her chair. “I don’t know anymore. I haven’t tried calling him lately.”

“Oh hell, you shouldn’t have to!” Mika says out the blue across the room. She works with Remi too, started not long after Remi did.

“Thank you! The boy ought to be calling you to spend some time with his firstborn! I still wonder if he lying bout that…” Trixie adds under her breath.

Remi starts walks her patron to a sink bowl. “That’s the truth, believe me. The man acts like his dick is solid gold and his sperm is diamond encrusted. Surprisingly he don’t give it out willy nilly.”

Trixie helps escort her patron under a dryer. “He was always so odd to me. Too pretty to be like that, he oughta be having babies right and left.”

Mika chimes in from her filing her nails. “He could be like Prince or Leonardo di Caprio out here: had all these women in a tizzy but no kids. They kept they shit on ZipLoc.”

Remi and Trixie laugh at her suggestion. “Ok, ok. But to be serious a second, he should be calling you, for real. He needs to see his son and you need a break. I can tell you running yourself ragged making sure the sun revolves around him.”

Remi towel dries her patron. “I’m good. Xavier IS my world, I’m not ashamed to admit that. I’m raising a Black man in the making, and I will not fuck this up, deadbeat daddy be damned. Plus, I get me time with you all here. That’s socializing enough.”

Trixie makes a face with a slight eye roll. “I mean that’s noble and all, but hell, I don’t need you being a spinster at your age. You still got all that youth, you need to put that beauty and energy into something that’s gonna appreciate it. You know, someone that doesn’t require potty breaks and reads at high school level.”

Remi scoffs as she combs out her patron’s hair. “What’re you trying to say?”

“GIRL GET YOU A MAN! A date, a one night stand, a something with a dick and a pulse!” Mika exclaims. The whole shop goes quiet looking at her like the aftermath of an explosion. “Y’all were thinking it. You too Mae, I know you know. You been married 50 yrs and his death didn’t stop you.”

Remi’s patron Mae turned around in her chair wordlessly away from Mika in response.

Trixie tries to even things out. “Thank you for that Mika. But what I’m trying to say is you need a night out or something. You say you socialize with us but you never go outside of this shop with us, and that’s not cuz we ain’t tryin.”

Remi sighs. “You right, you right. I got a routine is all, and what if I go somewhere and-and Xavier needs me cuz he misses me? Having a nightmare? Wet the bed?”

“Ohhh my God.” Mika groans.

“Mika, shut the hell up. Re, I get that. When my kids were small, they had my undivided attention cuz I was young, younger than you, and had to hustle to make sure my babies had what they needed so their lives were good despite the circumstances they were brought in.”

“Thank you! Yes!” Remi exclaims feeling vindicated.

Trixie holds up a hand. “But! I didn’t have a life because of it. I lost a little bit of what it meant to be me outside of being a mother. Now, like I said I was younger, less established and had an extra couple kids before your age compared to your one. All I’m saying is, you have a means to make a life for yourself still without losing yourself.”

Remi sighs. “The boy is a handful though. I won’t put a man over my son. Even like this past weekend, some guy tried to talk to me up with his kid at the park.”

“Oh?” Mika perks up.

Remi nods, oblivious to Mika’s excitement. “Yeah! Interrupting my time with Xavier so he could try and talk me up. Like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Wait, wait wait. Ok, first of all, what was the exact situation here. Did he look like one of these dusty van driving niggas using a kid to lure women or something?”

“No, Mika! But he don’t have to, he’s a big ass dude. Like a fucking...oak ass tree ass, thick looking nigga…” Remi says hesitantly. She bites her lip at the thought of his appearance, almost forgetting how handsome he is with the amount of time having passed.

Trixie walks up to her pointing. “Girllll, I see you! He was FINE huh? Light skinned, dark skinned?”

“Dark skinned, yeah. His daughter is just as cute too, like gorgeous and smart. He treats her like a doll.”

“How much time did y’all spend together??” Mika’s voice asks in a high pitched voice, fanning herself.

Remi stamps her foot. “Y’all stahp! It’s literally not like that at all. He tried it though, giving me his number like he just know he gonna see me again.”

Trixie and Mika look at one another one second before falling out in laughter and praise dancing in the middle of the shop. Remi looks at them in wide eyed wonderment before coaxing them to calm down.

“Aye aye! This is a place of business y’all, the hell you doin?”

Trixie stops to catch her breath. “Child this MY place of business, you better turn up! If you don’t call this fine single father who gave you the go ahead to seek him out, I WILL!”

Remi rolls her eyes. “It’s gonna be a waste of time though!”

Mika chimes in. “Let him waste your time! You got your time too organized, you stiff! You need something to break down your walls….oh shit! You see that double entendre!”

Trixie and Mika screech, giving each other a high five.

“Excuse me!” Mae says in Remi’s chair.

Remi turns to her. “Oh oh, I’m sorry! I’ll get you under the dryer right now. Excuse the noise.”

She shakes her head. “No dear, the man who is sweet on you. Why not try to get to know him a little? You’re too beautiful to be single, and you both have children. There’s a lot to relate to one another about.”

Remi smiles sweetly at the old white woman. “Thank you, I appreciate your advice Mae. I’m still thinking about it though.”

“Well that is a start in itself. Pray about it, you’ll know what’s right.” Mae’s saggy cheeks lift a little as she smiles with a closed mouth as Remi escorts her to a chair for drying.

Mika and Trixie finally got off of the subject of Remi’s potential love life and got through the appointments of the day. What little time she had to herself was spent thinking of dinner for Xavier and NOW checking the new contact in her phone and wondering if she should take the plunge dive in some uncharted waters. By the close of business, Remi was zooming over to the daycare to see her little boy; she missed him so much by the end of the work day. She’s thankful he is still small enough for her to hold and snuggle, though he’s growing up so fast.

When Remi arrives to the daycare, Faye walks Xavier out, who runs the rest of the way over to her.

“Hey X! Did you have a good day?” Remi asks, picking him up into a big hug. He smelled like outside and the coconut oil spray she conditions his hair with.

His little arms tightened around her head. “Yeah! I planted gummi worms and made mud!”

“It was pudding.” Faye chuckled. “Xavier was the life of the party today.”

Remi kisses his cheek greedily as she puts him in his booster seat in the back. When she closes the door, Faye grabs Remi’s attention.

“Remi, he was great today. He even helped out with the project, passing out our ‘flower pots’, which were just styrofoam cups. But he really showed a lot of leadership and gentleness today.”

Remi looks back at her little boy in the car with pride. “That’s what he is, gentle and bossy.”

Faye nods. “So great. He even had a lot of conversation for me today. Someone he met taught him about plants before. Some kind of strong trees from Africa?”

Remi searches her mind; she always took Xavier to the library for books of all kinds for him to learn about the world, but she didn’t recall anything from books or TV on that.

“Really? I’ve got to ask him about that, must’ve been on PBS or something when I wasn’t paying attention.” Remi surmises.

“Well it stuck, I love seeing comprehension in children at a young age. He’s got a strong foundation for it in you. Thanks for bringing him by.”

“No problem! I wouldn’t mind a discount on fees since he is such a joy.” Remi says jokingly as she walks to the car.

“If only!” Faye retorts, waving back proudly.

Remi and Xavier drive home, bopping to the radio edits of their favorite hits the whole way back. Xavier’s mood lifted Remi’s so easily; she was dog tired on the way to pick him up after hours of being on her feet, but now she felt like they could party all night. Looking back at his serious jam face mumbling the riff of a Miguel song tickled her, such a performer.

Once they arrived at their home, Remi starts to rundown the menu, heading to the kitchen.

“Ok X-man, we can have some spaghetti, I got turkey meat for sandwiches. Or I could make those fish tacos, you liked those last time.”

“Mama, can I have my birthday today?” Xavier calls from the couch he is standing on.

Remi closes the fridge door to approach her son. “Mk, first, get off the couch. We don’t even do that on birthdays.”

Xavier jumps off standing by his mom. “Please? Can I have my birthday?”

Remi pulls out some bread to make a sandwich. “Sweetie, I don’t have any waffle mix or blueberries.”

Xavier crawls into a chair. “No mama, I want birthday. Not waffles.”

Remi stops prepping the sandwich to look at her son carefully. “Your birthday isn’t for six more months, why do you want to celebrate so early?”

“I want Sunny to come over and play.” Xavier says reaching for a lunch meat slice to chew on.

Remi looks at Xavier with confusion. “Who is Sunny, baby?”

“My friend from the park. Her dad came too, I want to see her for my birthday.” Xavier says through a mouth full of meat.

Remi chuckles to go back to assembling her sandwich. “X, you don’t need a birthday to see Jolasun, we can see her anytime.”

Xavier’s eyes light up. “Can I see her tomorrow??”

Remi groans as she thinks. “Uhhh, probably not….”

“If it’s my birthday tomorrow, can I see her?” Xavier asks.

Remi gives her son a look. “Xavier, what’s this birthday mess you keep talking about? We will see her when I say we can, I’m just not sure yet.”

Xavier’s face falls. “But you say you do cool stuff for my birthday, even if you feel bad.”

Remi purses her mouth and steps away from the sandwich ingredients. She pulls a seat up next to her son giving him her full attention.

“Listen, that’s different. I told you that so you would understand why you have to go to school in the morning. It doesn’t work for other things like seeing friends.”

Xavier’s eyes begin to water as he looks sadly at his turkey slice. “But I want to see Sunny….”

Remi rubs his back. “We will, X! I promise we will, don’t get upset.”

Xavier sniffles. “But you don’t want to…”

“No! No, I do want to see her. She’s a lovely little girl. I’m just nervous about...stuff.” Remi says curtly. Mika and Trixie could barely understand her thoughts on M’Baku, how would a 4 year old.

Xavier looks at her with puppy dog eyes. “I am nervous too Mama. At school and when I saw Sunny, but then I was happy because they were nice. Sunny is too mama!”

Remi pulls her son in for a hug as chokes up a little. His whole world crumbles so easily, she hated to see him get this way. “X, now calm down so Mama can talk to you. It’s ok to have friends and I’m glad you want to see them. I;m so proud of you for being a big boy and not getting nervous. Ms. Faye told me how good you were today.”

“Yeah?”

Remi nods, pulling him back to face her. “Of course! You’re always a smart little gentleman, don’t forget that.” Remi wipes his tears and grabs a napkin to get at his nose. “And I know Sunny thinks you’re great too. So, since she knows how cool you are and wants to see you, why not go see her.”

Xavier’s face lights up again. “For real?? Are we going to the park again?!”

Remi grabs her phone. “Well, I don’t know exactly but I’ll call her Dad and we’ll see, ok?” Remi gives him half the sandwich she made and a cup of juice and chips. “Sit and eat while I talk. Don’t drink all the juice and eat all the chips before you finish the sandwich.”

Remi walks over the the living room, sitting in her easy chair to scroll to his number. Her heart felt like it skipped just at the sight of his name: M’Baku. Such a good name, took little effort once you got past the hard B, then your lips and tongue just fall in line with a whisper into the last two syllables. It’s been days since their first interaction, would he even remember their interaction, her name?

She shakes her head free of toxic thoughts as best she could or she’d never go for it, and hit Call. This is for Xavier and Jolasun after all, this would have little to do with you and M’Baku if she got her way fully. The phone rang and rang in her ear, with each ring she wondered if calling was too much. Maybe she should’ve texted or maybe go to the park like Xavier said and hope to run into-

“Hello?” M’Baku’s deep, elegant voice bound through the phone to her ear, causing a tingle in her brain.

“Oh, uh hey! This is Remi, uh from the park? You came over to help me with my groceries.”

M’Baku does a low chuckle. “Yes, Remi, I haven’t forgotten you at all. But I thought you had forgotten me.”

His tone dropping into a realm of hurt ego, it made him that much more charismatic. “Well Xavier hasn’t forgotten Jolasun.” Remi says, steering the conversation back on track.

“Tell her I said hi!” Xavier yells from his chair with a mouthful of sandwich.

“....and he says hello.” Remi adds.

“Ahh, I heard. Jola is still napping, but I will relay the message.” M’Baku says very relaxed, as if he is settling in comfortably for an intimate conversation.

An awkward pause of silence fills the conversation as Remi plays with her nails waiting for M’Baku to say something, anything to hopefully make her hang up an say that it can’t happen.

“Was...that all you called for?” M’Baku inquires. She could hear the smile in his voice.

“No. Um, Xavier wanted to see Jolasun so I wanted to coordinate with you and see when you’d be free...basically.”

“Ah, so your son persuaded you.”

“...yea.” Remi adds curtly.

“Am I invited as well?”

“I mean you would want to bring her here I thought, so….in a way...yes?”

M’Baku groans demonstratively, muttering a few things under his breath for dramatic effect. “Well, that is good enough for me. Do you feel like having dinner tomorrow night?” M’Baku asks.

“Uh, I mean I want the kids to spend time together, we’re not going-”

“Remember when I offered to show you an exquisite, nutritious meal that meat and plant eaters alike could enjoy?”

Remi smacked her forehead. As hard as she tried to keep this conversation off of flirtation, she maneuvered herself into a ditch of embarrassment. “Right.”

“Then me and Jola will come by, we can cook as they play, and we will all eat together, eh?”

Remi looks over to Xavier. “That sounds nice, but I really don’t want to be stuck with trash and dishes. Sounds like more work then I want to sign up for.”

“I know how to clean and take trash out. I will bring my own pots, I am particular about my cookware anyway.”

“Oh? Are my pots and pans subpar?” Remi quips.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll have to come see for myself.” M’Baku says. Remi could practically hear his wink.

“Oh God, this is ridiculous.” Remi shakes her head, gripping the bridge of her nose.

“What is ridiculous is passing on a chance for a free meal and company since we all get along so well. The kids have their playdate while we have our-”

“Dinner. A good meal and babysitting, sounds lovely.” Remi says.

M’Baku chuckles again. “Yes, a meal in your beautiful home. And I sincerely cannot wait for it.”

Remi felt herself getting warm. The way he said beautiful, it didn’t feel like he meant the house. She fought herself on wanting to hear that word from his mouth in connection to her instead. “I...know Xavier and Jolasun will have a good time.”

Remi hears shuffles on M’Baku’s end. “I will have to let you go now, lady of the house is stirring. See you on tomorrow!”

Remi smiles, saying goodbye before hanging up her phone and looking off into space for a bit. She gets lost in remembering his features, his stance, matching his expressions with the cadence of his voice over the phone and imagining that wide smile excitedly planning a night with her and Xavier.

“Mama! What he say?” Xavier asks through a mouthful of crackers.

“Chew your food! But they will be coming.”

“YAYYY!!” Xavier pops out of his seat and runs over to his mom, climbing her feet roughly to get in her lap.

“Ouch, boy!” Remi picks him up the rest of the way, laughing to herself as they embrace. Xavier looks into his mother’s face, forehead to forehead, nose to nose.

“What do you say?” Remi quizzes her child, her vision blurred as his features become a Picasso from her eyes crossing to look at him from point blank range.

“Thank you mama!” Xavier’s breath smells like every component of his dinner. She loved making her baby boy happy. It’s not always so easy to do.

The next night, Remi lays out a couples of pots, pans, and various utensils to prepare for the night with M’Baku and Jolasun. He texted earlier in the day to let her know he would be bringing groceries with him so Remi wouldn’t have to worry about having the right stuff, no matter how much she protested against this. Remi still felt off about tonight, like something wasn’t quite copacetic but she reminded herself this was not a date. More like a summer camp and they were the counselors….not horny ones like the movies always depict, that’d be gross…

It had been so long since Remi let a man interested in her inside of her home, she really was not sure how to act. M’Baku could still be just a nice buddy, with little interest in her especially exclusivity.

Remi groans at the tracks her mind went on. She keeps steering into a romance thing! The kitchen was set, so she changed atmosphere, going upstairs to check her face and make sure she was good to go look-wise.

She tried to keep her outfit cute, but not too elementary school teacher-ish. Enough to show her assets, but conservative enough to wear to church. But not too formal to keep up with the kids and there impending messes, just over the line of looking like she cares. She is at her house for this, but some freshening up is necessary for guests.

She takes out a nude lip to touch up as she calls out to Xavier. “X! Come here so I can see you!”

Xavier’s feet stomp rapidly up the hall to stand outside her bathroom. He has on his favorite CoryxKenshin shirt with a little plaid shirt layered over it and canvas pants with his Keds.

Remi beamed. “You are so handsome!”

He looks down at himself, almost going into a headstand as his braids stood up to gravity. “I do?”

“Yes! Of course, always! Are you excited?”

He nods. “Are we going to sing happy birthday with cake?”

Remi laughs as she fills in her brows. “No baby, remember? We aren’t going to do your birthday. This is a regular day with your friend Jolasun.”

The doorbell rang on cue.

“Sunny!” Xavier exclaims racing away.

“Xavier, don’t open that door! I’ll get it!” Remi’s heart rate picks up as she tries to summon the energy of her co-workers to gage as much of the possibilities tonight has to offer as possible. Checking her phone, looks like they are a but early, she thinks as she heads downstairs again.

Xavier is bouncing by the kitchen, ready for an adventure. His smiling face calms Remi effortlessly as she glides in her confident walk across the floor to the door, putting on a genuine smile as she opens the door.

“Hey, Remi! And little man! Look at y’all!”

Remi’s face drops instantly. “Ron?”

Part 3

Masterlist

Ragtag

@yaachtynoboat711 @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat@sarcastic-sunshines @great-neckpectations @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @foulmouthedandfanfic @nickidub718 @supersizemeplz @yofavcocoa @ashanti-notthesinger

#m'baku fanfic #m'baku #black panther fanfic #black panther au #m'baku x black oc #shakafic

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dibs4ever · 5 years

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The Next Generations view

My name is Nathan Wayne Grayson

My name has a meaning for it in all 3 pieces. Nathan after my maternal great grandfather, Wayne for my Adoptive Paternal grandfather and Grayson my dad's last name. I am the next generation of the legendary ”Flying Grayson’s”

The nickname the press has given me since I was an infant is ”The Prince Of Gotham” I despise my nickname, I don't want to be looked at like that. I just want to be looked at as a regular 14-year-old boy. I suppose the nickname spans from who my parents are Dick and Barbara Grayson-formally Gordon. The adoptive son of Bruce Wayne and the police commissioner daughter. As much as I’d like to be normal my life is anything but normal. Ignoring the fact of WHO my family is it’s WHAT we are that makes us abnormal. I am the protege to the Dark Night, the legendary Robin. I followed in my father’s and Uncles footsteps. I started my training at age 10 and officially became Robin at age 11. My abilities include acrobatics and extraneous computer skills plus all the other skills it takes to be accepted as a Bat.

Want a rundown of what makes up my family? Here it is,

Dick Grayson, my father AKA Nightwing. I don’t always patrol with Batman, I’ll occasionally patrol my hometown of Bludhaven with him. I love him and look up to him but people often compare me to him because of our resemblance and sometimes that makes for a lot of pressure. But I can't be all that much like him, from what I've been told my dad was quite the ladies man. I can't flirt worth anything, the only girls I can talk to I'm either rated to or are my friend. Otherwise, I turn into a klutzy, stuttering mess My dad is super overbearing though, he coddles my sister and me to no end. Mom says when my sister was a baby she arrived back from patrol one night to find him rocking her and singing ”I’ll be watching you” which isn't creepy at all (note the sarcasm). And he will randomly just hug me and kiss my cheeks, even when we’re being Robin and Nightwing.....I’m almost 15 that's gotta stop.

Barbara Grayson- My mother, we’re really close. I will secretly admit that I’m a “mamas boy” but I can’t help that we have a really great bond. Maybe it spans from the fact that for the first 8 weeks of my life it was just her and I. Long story short they thought my dad was dead but he was actually undercover and had no clue my mom was even pregnant. She thinks I’m innocent and her “precious baby boy” like I said, I’m almost 15 my parents gotta accept that I’m growing up. My mom used to be Batgirl then when I was 4 she was shot by the Joker and became paralyzed from the waist down which transitioned her to Oracle. When I was 10 she had a chip inserted on her spine that made her regain the use of her legs. She now alternates between going out as Batgirl and Oracle stuff but mainly does Oracle now.

Leah Grayson: My 10-year-old younger sister. She looks like my mom, red hair and all. She wants to become a vigilante but Dad’s against it. My mom seems to be on the fence though and if she decides it’s okay she’ll convince my dad to let her. She’s -spunky for lack of a better word. My dad says she reminds him of my Uncle Jason when he was young which might be why he doesn’t want her to be a vigilante. It also explains why she’s Uncle Jay’s favorite

Tim Drake, My Uncle Tim is the vigilante known as Red Robin, he’s cool and understands my love for tech, he's kinda over obsessed with everything. He likes to research everything to the max and is always prepared for the situation ahead of everyone else ,whatever it may be.

Stephanie Drake, AKA Spoiler. My sister is my Uncle Jason’s favorite and I’m my Aunt Steph’s favorite. For as long as I can remember she’s loved me. We have a good bond and she spoils me (no pun intended)

Juliet Drake- My baby cousin, she’s 1 and is my little princess. She has me wrapped around her little finger. She has dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes, I love spending time with her and can’t wait to see what she becomes.

Jason Todd AKA Red Hood, my Uncle Jason and I have a -I guess you would call it a normal relationship. We aren’t close but we aren’t .....not close. I know he’d kill someone if they ever messed with me in other words. He sure doe’s spoil my sister though, in his eyes she can do no wrong.

Cassandra Cain AKA Black Bat, Aunt Cass is cool cause she helps me sneak behind my parent's backs and get away with stuff. I should’ve mentioned my Uncle Jay does too occassionally.

Damian Wayne, AKA NightGoul Uncle Dami is....interesting. We’re only 13 years apart so he hates it when I call him “Uncle” even though he only refers to me as “Nephew” seriously I think he’s only ever called me by name a handful of times. I like to call him Uncle Damian just yo annoy him. Dad says he’s calmed down a lot since when he first met him. I can’t imagine how emotionless he used to be cause he’s pretty emotionless now. But he’s also one of the main ones who trained me to be Robin so I owe him that

Helena Wayne: AKA the new Huntress shes technically my aunt but she’s only 2 years older then me and I have never called her “aunt” she’s more of the older sibling I’ll never have but she’s fun and I’m sure as I get older we’ll have some good times.

Selina Kyle-Wayne, Aka Catwoman I called her Grandma once when I was 5 and she gave me a death glare that gave me nightmares for a week so I never did it again. We kinda do our own thing. She has started to socialize with me more now that I’m older.

Bruce Wayne, Aka Batman Everyone thinks he’s so tough but he’s not. Supposedly he’s completely different with me then he was with my dad and uncles. We’re close, how can we not be? He’s Batman and I’m Robin. He literally buys me anything I want so when I turn 16 it’s going to be epic.

Mark and Melanie West- They aren't family but they are my best friends. They’re twins and we’re the same age. We’re in 9th grade at Gotham Academy. Our dads (mainly my dad) like to call us the ‘Big 3’. Mark is an Archer he’s the protege to the Green Arrow. He’s my best friend and basically the brother I’ll never have, we literally share everything with each other and keep no secrets. Melanie inherited her fathers abilities and is a speedster she is the protege to The Flash. She’s one of my best friends too. We actually kissed a few months back. It wasn’t anything romantic, she did it more as a favor for me, it’s a long story and we swore never to speak of it-I kinda want to talk about it though.

So there you have it, a little run down of my crazy family from my perspective. I also have a load of ”honorary” Aunts and Uncles. Like Wally, Artemis, and Roy who has a daughter named Lian that is like an older cousin to me. There's also my dad's childhood friend Donna, my moms best friend Dinah my grandpa's ”frenemie” Uncle Clark. His son Jon is my Uncle Dami’s really good companion they go on alot of missions together. I could go on and on. It's probably not what most would consider a normal family buts its mine and I wouldn't have it any other way.

#dick grayson #barbara gordon #batfam au #batfam fanfiction #batfamily headcanons

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cleacourgette · 6 years

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A lesson on marriage

I cannot get enough of my favorite ship in Naruto. You know that feeling of following our OTP for years than actually becoming canon?

I’ve been inspired by the new Boruto episodes, its so nice to see the new team suna, and see Kankuro, and see Temari training the new inoshikacho. Ahh, the feels to the chunin exams are strong.

As always, I hope you like this one shot.

The Nara residence had been lively that day, with the presence of the Kazekage himself, his right arm, Kankurou and his son Shinki. All because their older sister Temari insisted quite a lot, even when Gaara said she shouldn’t make such thing, that he didn’t want to trouble her, that eating together in a restaurant would have been less trouble and still could keep the whole family together. But he knew his dearest sister to be the most stubborn out of the three of them and, and with her insistence, he easily gave in.

So lively it was, and Temari couldn’t be happier through the whole dinner party, watching her family together, reminiscent of the old days when she was responsible for taking care of her sloppy brothers. Gaara was always stuck on his office, forgetting often to take care of himself, and Kakuro, well Kakuro was specially slob and careless ever since she could remember. But it was nice to bask in such memories.

The Nara family took note of how Shinki grew up to be. He was incredibly similar to Gaara, from his speech, to his quiet demeanor, his sense of priorities. Shikadai only remembered Shinki from a long time ago, when both of them were little kids, playing together in Suna, from the several vacations he spent with his uncles, all in order to learn about his Sunagakure heritage better, his mother often said. He knew and felt, Shinki was completely different now. His cousin had always been quiet, but now more than ever.

After the pleasant dinner, Temari invited them to stay over, after all the Nara residence was quite big, and having her brothers close was all she wanted. If only for a little longer. But to this, Gaara said no, and he insisted this time, he explained that he had already booked rooms for him, Kankuro and the kids, not to mention that having dinner was one thing, staying over would be a lot more trouble he wasn’t willing to let his sister carry. He considered to her, he would be wiling to spend a few days with her when work wasn’t as chaotic. It would be nice to have the family all together in Konoha. She gave in, feeling like they just negotiated time to spend as a family.

They left for the night, and Temari was a little saddened. Shikamaru noted that down on his brain, and when they were waving their goodbyes, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close. Temari noted that down on her heart.

“Shikadai’s sleeping. I guess the first day of the chunin exams already took the best of him, huh?” Shikamaru entered the room, pocketed hands, slow pace and a gentle close of the door behind him, making sure no sounds would be made to not wake his son up.

His wife, sitting on the bed, back comfortably laying against the bunch of pillows, peeked up from the book she was reading. The dim light in the room, was just enough for her to make up the words in it. Another antique she found on the Nara library, often about Justus of the family, other times medical books, or just several diaries and notes from the several Nara heads on the family across the centuries. Her teal eyes looked up at him, her naked legs were curled up, close to her chest, and she gently stretched one, and then the other.

The book was finding now rest on top of the bed side table, and her lips stretched a smile up at him. “Your son, isn’t he?” She teased. “Already tired and it was only the first day. Do you know what he told me about the first test? It was easy.” She snorted, dipping her body further against the pillows, her legs dancing one on top of the other sensually, a show for his eyes only.

Shikamaru’s eyes shifted between her eyes and her legs. Quick peeks at her legs, and the dance they were in, and then her teal deep eyes. The tease. “Hah, right back at you. Only you would say something like easy in a chunin exam, after all. Isn’t that what you thought when you saw me as your opponent? This one’s gonna be easy.”

The man, scratched his beard, analyzing his situation before him. Everything was pointing to this being a trap. She was faking it right now, he could tell, he already knew the little hints she dropped when she was lying or hiding something. A little twitch of her smile, the sudden change of topic, a distraction with her legs. She was good, and has only gotten better over the years, but this was a strategy he knew well by now. His wife missed her brothers, and that much was obvious by their nice evening that day. And now she was trying to cover up the fact that she was sad that they left. As always trying to be tough when she didn’t have to.

He decided to approached the situation carefully, sitting on the edge of his bed, across from her, his back turned to her, working on stripping his clothes, making himself comfortable, leading her to believe he fell for her trap.

“Is my husband feeling nostalgic?” Temari wasn’t dumb, she knew he had something planned, she could tell by the way he was being so slow and careful about his approach. This though, was one of the best things about being married to Konoha’s genius. Every day was a nice challenge, it tickled her personality. She dragged her body across the bed, reaching for him from behind, a hand coming up to his shoulder, helping him off his clothes.

“Maybe. I did meet a very spunky little girl back then.” He arched his brow, reaching for her hand, stopping it gently, caressing it, each finger carefully.

But then she was fast to reply. “Oh did you? Spunky seems troublesome thought.” Her other hand was now on his other shoulder, and he turned his head to face her. Her lovely hair was falling down her face, framing her olive skin in a beautiful sight under the dim light.

“Yeah. It was. It’s been a really troublesome journey all the way, but, you know? It was worth it. Look at what I have now.” He slowly turned his body towards her, and gently entwined their fingers together.

What Temari needed right now, was understanding and love. Not lust. Lust was a distraction for her, to forget for a moment that she missed being the one taking care of her brothers. She missed her roots, her land. Even thought she grew well accustomed to Konoha, she was still a brawly woman from Suna, and she would never forget that.

In her voice this time, there was need, it was breathless almost desperate. “What is it? What do you have now? Tell me?”

The gentle side of her. That sweet little thing his father told him about. She stopped being the scariest suna kunoichi in the world for him, a long time ago. Again and again, she gave him this side of her no one else saw.

It was in her nature and she felt it. It felt so natural for her to be caring with him, to be kind, to be loving. It was natural when they became accustomed to each other’s company, how they cared for each other, how strong the bonds have become, how that friendship grew into something so beautiful, and It felt incredibly natural for her to say yes, when he proposed, to kiss and touch for the first time. It was meant to be. And the thought of love and passion filled her cheeks in a rosy color, painted her eyes with a twinkle and made her lean closer to him, tilting her head in search for a kiss, but still waiting for her answer.

“I have you, I have Shikadai, I have us, our family. You were worth all the trouble.” It didn’t take long for him to answer; it was like a verse from an ancient poem, so right and so simple to say. The words spilled from his lips so easily and so genuine.

They touched, for a moment lips brushed a little, and she fell. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed him. He swallowed back, opening her arms to accept her weight on him. His grip was secure, locked around her, and they kissed, deeply and passionately.

But Shikamaru didn’t let the kiss go any further into something more; he broke it, very gently so he wouldn’t startle her. He only pulled her close to rest their foreheads together. Eyes still closed, basking in the moment, sitting her on his lap.

“They’ll be here until the end of the chunin exams, you can take advantage of that and spend more time with them.”

She was caught. Check mate, he would say. He was probably proud of himself when she pulled herself back a little, opening her eyes. Reacting to his challenge.

“I know.” She said, already looking around herself for another plan. “I’ll do that.”

Smile grew on his face when she saw and felt her cornered against his words. So he was right about it. Years of marriage made him an expert on what is Temari Nara thinking about right now. He was truly proud. “But you wanted them to stay over, actually sleep here and be able to take care of them. I know. But they’re both big boys now, and the Kazekage didn’t want any special treatment just because his sister is here. “

Ah, that nasty, horrible man of hers. When did he get so good at knowing her? It truly pissed her off.

“Okay I get it already.” She admitted defeat, leaning against him, hiding her face on the crook of his neck. “But I’m not giving up like a certain someone.” She continued, biting down the flash on his neck, gently.

“Hey!” Accepting that bite as a challenge, Shikamaru pushed his troublesome, spunky wife against the bed. “Ah, you want a rematch from the chunin exams, do ya?” A sweet smile was covering his lips, and her hand sneaked up to him pulling his hair tie off, giggling to his lack of vision after that. She used her fingers to tangle against his hair gently, pulling it out of his eyes.

“I won’t lose this time, and I have a few new things to show you.” Her voice was quiet and deep, her eyes was defiant, and her lower lip curled under her teeth after her words came out like honey to his ears.

“Ahh…. You know I can’t lose against a woman…”

#shikatema #shikamaru #temari #shikadai #gaara #kakuro #shinki #naruto #boruto

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thevoltrongames · 6 years

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Snacc the Snake

Lance woke up to his mother screaming.

“Lance! Take your dog out before she pees in the house!”

“But, Mama,” Lance groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“Lance! Your dog looks like she’s going to combust. Get your butt out here!”

Lance let out a louder groan and sat up.

“Lance!” His mother screeched.

And Lance got his ass up and ran, because an angry mom was not something he wanted to deal with in the morning. He hurriedly put his whining dog on her leash, and ran out the back door. Mia followed with large bounds, and finally relieved herself in a patch of grass. Lance, still barefoot and in pajamas, delicately followed Mia around the yard as she sniffed and nuzzled at the ground.

Then Mia barked suddenly, and Lance jumped. He followed her snout and saw— oh shit is that a snake?

Lance stiffened. Snakes were dangerous. But then again, this could be a Garter Snake, and be harmless. He studied the black and yellow snake, his brows scrunched. Mia barked again, and Lance frowned. He couldn’t tell his parents, because his dad would stomp out with a butcher knife and screaming bloody murder in Spanish, and his mom would panic. He knew what he could do, though.

“Hey, Veronica!” Lance shouted towards the house.

Veronica’s upper half leaned out of the back door, one earbud in her ear and her brows raised.

“Do you have an empty shoebox I could have?”

***

Lance was buzzing as he entered his science class for 6th period. He got some questioning looks from people, most of their eyes wandering towards the shoebox on he had set on his desk. Lance sat down and gripped the bottom of his chair tightly. Their teacher— Professor Coran (Or Mr. Wimbledon, but no one called him that.)— entered soon after everyone was seated. Immediately, Lance’s hand shot up.

“Yes, Lance?” Coran asked, looking up from his laptop.

“I have a show and tell! Can I show and tell, Professor Coran? Please?” Lance pleaded.

His teacher blinked. “Well, I was only going to have you guys watch a Bill Nye video today, since you guys all aced your tests last week, but I guess the floor is yours, Lance.”

Half of the class was already groaning. Lance basically skipped to the front of the classroom, and then he set the box on the tale in front.

“Guys, gals, and science nerd pals,” Lance started. “I believe that we, as a science class, should work together to take care of something. So that’s why I brought a class pet.”

“Oh no,” the class groaned.

“Hey!” Lance exclaimed. “Listen! The best part, is that it’s a snake!”

There were gasps and a faint “We’re going to die.” from the back of the room.

“Okay, okay.” Lance opened the box and pulled out the snake, letting it drape over his arm. “Her name is Snacc. S-n-a-c-c.”

“How do you know it’s a girl,” Lance’s classmate, Keith, commented.

“How do you know she’s a boy?’ Lance countered, holding a hand protectively over the snake.

“Lance, put that back! You don’t know if it’s poisonous!” A girl named Shay fretted.

“She isn’t,” Lance assured, but nevertheless put the snake back.

“We don’t need a class pet, Lance. Go throw her off of the roof or something,” some asshole named Lotor (who names their kid Lotor? What the fuck?) dismissed Lance’s proposal.

Lance huffed and kept his thoughts to himself. The Valedictorian, Allura, shot Lotor a glare, then turned back to Lance. “This is an interesting topic Lance, but you need to tell us why we should have a class pet.”

Lance dug into his pocket. It’s in there somewhere, goddammit. Aha!

Lance pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper from his pocket. He hastily unfolded it, and read off of it. “A class pet is definitely something this class should consider. We’ve all had our differences in Junior year, but now that we are seniors, we should own up and learn to work together. A class pet would be a great way for us to learn how to deal with each other and learn how to care for another living thing that puts us outside of our comfort zone. Also, snakes are really freaking cool, and class pets are an aesthetic. In this essay I will—”

“I think we should keep her,” Hunk interrupted.

Lance grinned. “Thank you, bro! Someone agrees with me!”

“I think we should keep her, to,” Shay spoke up.

“Okay! So my best bro and his girlfriend are the first on board! Talk about a ship, right? Anyway, Snacc is a Garter Snake, and she’s very harmless. Like I said, we all hate each other, right? Well, let’s change that. We can all learn to love and cherish Snacc, and we can all be a family.” Lance brought the snake back out, and headed towards Shay and Hunk.

“Shay and Hunk are obviously going to be the Mom and Dad of this situation. And I’m going to be the spunky, cool uncle!”

“Cool?” Keith asked, He let out a small laugh. “Are you joking?”

Lance rolled his eyes, but ignored the remark. He handed the snake to Hunk, and Shay squeaked. He turned back to the majority of the class, and grinned when Allura raised her hand. “What’s up, Allura?”

“I think we should have a class pet. This was a wonderful idea, Lance.”

And half the class muttered agreements, because if the valedictorian is in on it, it must e a smart idea.

Lance was glowing. “Thank you, Allura. This makes you the godmother by default.”

The class was muttering amongst themselves. Lance needed their attention again. “Okay, listen guys. Snacc may just be a Garter snake, but she will bite you. Before you guys freak out, she’s only poisonous to prey. Like mice, birds, and other small mammals. Her bote will hurt though, obviously.”

And Lance kept giving good reasons to have a class pet, and he soon had everyone (even Lotor) on his side. Well, almost everyone.

“Professor, do I have to get everyone to agree to this?” Lance whined.

Coran nodded. “A class pet is a group effort, as you’ve said. So everyone must be on board with it. You have 10 minutes left of class.”

Lance sighed, and gave Keith a tired look. “C’mon dude. We all want this snake, and you have to admit, she’s a bomb of a snake. She’s a Snacc.”

Keith leaned his head onto his right hand. “I don’t know Lance. What’s in it for me?”

“A pet! Compassion! A classroom family! You can be the emo cousin! C’mon Keith, please?”

Keith stared up at Lance, then looked to the rest of the class. They were all watching him anxiously. He turned back to Lance, who was giving him puppy eyes.

Keith stared him down. No, he wouldn’t back down. He didn’t want a snake. Or any pet. Or a “classroom family”.

“God, fine,” Keith grumbled, throwing his hands in the air.

The class cheered.

“Hey! Maybe Lance and Keith should have the parent roles!” Hunk suggested.

The classroom erupted into laughter. Lance flushed. “I can still be the cool dad, though, right?”

Keith put his head down. What did he do?

Keith felt something slither underneath his arms, and Keith let out a small gasp as Snacc was now in the little cove between Keith’s head and the table. Snacc let out a tiny hiss and curled up. Then she was still. Keith grinned. Maybe a class pet wasn’t so bad.

DISCORD ID- Mars

#round 4 #challenge 4 #green lion #fic #modern day au #submission

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sirenfromthelostcity · 7 years

Text

The Best Mistake (Delsin Rowe x Reader)

Chapt 1. Bonnie and Clyde

1 and a half years ago, Salmon Bay...... It’s not often that you tread on the sand and soil of the Akomish reservation in Salmon Bay. Yet every time you come by, the scene seems to always be on a constant repeat of serenity. The seagulls are flying about and the sun, not yet setting, is decorating the sky with hues of orange and blue. All is more or less the scene you are used to seeing, however today the setting is being accommodated with a strange notion in your gut that today is not just an average day. The foreign sensation is not a bad sensation so to speak but try as you might you just can’t seem to shake it off.

Originally you had planned on going to the bay by yourself in your parent's’ car but evidently enough they took off earlier that morning and left you home with no mode of transportation. You then decided to take the bus to the reservation but luckily your cousin was feeling generous and offered to drop you off at your desired destination. They understood that you wanted to be alone and so they agreed to take you home once you were done pondering. Seeing as to how they had errands to run in the next town nearby, they had no problems with the arrangement. Thus now you are walking by the bay, admiring the sun's reflection glistening amongst the water creating the perfect leisurely scene for you to reflect your thoughts. The gentle swooshing sounds of the tides only do more justice to ease your mind. Surprisingly enough, the echos of the seagulls aren't bothering you much at all. Minus the occasional ducking when the seagulls fly by a little too close for comfort,, you are in complete bliss. Until suddenly you hear a strange sound. "TSSSSSSST TSSSSSSSTT TSSSST" "What in the-?" you halt in your steps. Your curiosity intensifies as you keep hearing the sound from a nearby distance. "TSSST TSSSSSSST TSSSSST TSST" "Is that.... a spray can?" Intrigued by the sound, you begin to follow it, leading you to God knows where but you don't care. Like a moth to a flame, you continue to follow the sound as if in some trance. Your walking comes to a halt as you hear the sound of a metal ball clashing and shaking within a small container, pulling you out of your trance, and you finally meet the source of the sound. As you guessed, the sound was in fact coming from a spray can but as that mystery was solved a new one unraveled right in front of you. Before you is a man who appears to be spray painting an owl, coincidentally enough a creature you are very fond of, on a very large boulder. The man is still unaware of your lurking presence so you use that to the best of your advantage and take a seat on a nearby log to observe his work. You've been to several art galleries and have seen many famous paintings. Yet all branches of visual arts are very distinct from one another and you of all people knew that. Street Art just so happens to have always been a secret favorite of yours. It’s spunky and illegal. After several minutes of continuous spraying sounds the mysterious man is still not aware of your loitering form behind him. That is until he finally turns around and is immediately greeted by your unanticipated form.

His eyes go wide with surprise, then his lips curl into a small smirk admiring your craftiness, then he goes back into a slight panic mode again as he realizes he’s just been caught vandalizing a defenseless boulder. "Woah, okay how long have you been sitting there?" he nervously asks.

"I don't know. Long enough," you shrug your shoulders. He takes a glance at you, then at his recent tag, then at you once more and releases a sheepish laugh, "Any chance you could just pretend you didn't see me...or this?" he motions to his freshly painted owl. "Why wouldn't I wanna see this?" you ask, feeling perplexed. "I actually really like it." "Really?" now it’s his turn to be confused. "So you're not gonna call the cops-if you didn't already?" You shake your head side to side as you faintly chuckle, "I've seen and been around enough authority for one life to care about reporting you to the cops. Especially for something like this, I mean it's really good. Wouldn't wanna see you get in trouble for something this small and definitely wouldn't want them to paint over it or something." It’s at that moment when you finish talking that you really get a chance to get a good look at the man. He’s wearing black shoes and regular dark blue jeans which actually compliment his tall frame. He sports a red white and blue plaid shirt topped off with a burgundy beanie and a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing an interesting green Navajo tattoo on his left forearm. He has a tan complexion and one of the most attractive faces you have ever seen. The more you look at him the more appealing he becomes. It'd be hard for anyone not to stare, and unfortunately he catches you in the act. "Like what you see?" he smirks. You instantly feel your cheeks heat up, lighting your face a bright red. In attempt to regain your cool composure you release a playful scoff, "Shut up, I just happened to get lost in thought is all...on your face...I-I just tend to daydream a lot randomly. That's what I was trying to say," you sigh. 'Smooth.' To your surprise the man only chuckles and takes a seat next to you on the log, "I think it's cute. And don't worry about getting 'lost in thought' on my face," he winks. "Oh and thanks for not calling the cops on me, you'd be one of the first ." "Really?" "Really. My brother is one of the Salmon Bay boys in blue and needless to say the people here know us, and they know especially of my tagging 'habits," he cocks his head to look at you. "Speaking of which, I know I definitely would've noticed you if you lived around here. What brings you around?" A light shade of pink begins to highlight your face again,"Is that what you're known for?" you ask, implying to his flirting. "Well that and my amazing tagging skills," he grins as he extends his hand out to you. Though you have only met the man you could already presume that smirking was another unbreakable habit of his. "Delsin Rowe. A devilishly handsome tagger, destined for greatness." You shake his hand and bluntly say your name. "What no intro?" he frowns. "What do you want me to tell you?" "Anything. What's something you like to do?" "Okay. Well uh I like photography and I like to draw," you say with a simple shrug of your shoulders. You never really thought much about your hobbies. Didn't often do things out of the ordinary. Boy was that about to change. "Really?" Delsin asks, seemingly interested. "Uh-yeah. I mean I've never done street art but I don't judge. I appreciate all forms of art that there is and I believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder," you stand up from your previous seat from the log and make your way to the owl tag to examine it, Delsin's eyes following your form. "I really like this owl you did. Figured out what you're gonna call it yet?" "You wanna give it a shot?" he casually asks. You turn around and give Delsin shocked expression, "Seriously?" "Yeah, go for it. Wanna see how you think," he positions himself so his arms are now resting atop of his knees. You turn back around to look at the tag and release a hum in thought,"How about....word to the wise?" you glance at him." 'Cause the owl represents wisdom and all...what do you think?" you gave a shy grimace. "Hmph I like it. Word to the wise," he repeats. "So is that why you like it so much? Because the owl represents wisdom?" he stands up and walks to approach your side. "Yeah. My dad is super strict. He expects me to follow a certain path that’s he’s basically been aligning for me since like forever so he doesn't allow mistakes, won't even tolerate the mere thought of one," you rolled your eyes. "Living like that leaves you with a of pressure y'know, which is why I came out here. Basically to escape him for a bit.” "Well y'know we're only human. Saying you'll never make a mistake is like saying you'll never catch a cold. Saying that you won't permit one is just plain ignorance." "You try telling him that," you scoff. "Oh I wouldn’t mind," he simpers, "But something tells me that you would rather have the honors to do that yourself." "Damn right." "But," he adds, “keep in mind that there are bad mistakes and also good mistakes." Puzzled, you turn your head to face a grinning Delsin and you urge him to continue explaining.

"Well me, for instance. My brother is a pretty well known cop here so maybe vandalizing a defenseless boulder wouldn't have been the wisest of decisions." “I’ll say,” you lightly chuckle. "But,” he points out, “I gotta find some way assert my talent and express myself. Some might say it was a total bad idea or foolish mistake but I say it was a pretty damn great mistake you wanna know why?" "Why?" You curiously ask as he steps closer to you.

"Beca-" Just as Delsin was about to finish his explanation, police sirens start echoing from a distance. The sound gets closer and closer by the second alerting you both as you frantically turn your heads towards the direction of the sound. "Wh-what was that?" you panic.

"Our cue to get the hell out of here, come on!" Fast on his feet Delsin grabs your hand and together you two run. ~ You lost count of how many turns you made. All that was on your mind was getting away and not getting arrested. Never have you ran so fast in your life before and never have you ever experienced such a thrill as this. Running away from the authorities, a mission to escape. Even your new Akomish friend noticed your excitement. He grins at you as he looks back to make sure you are still behind him, "This way, we should be able to just hide in here for a bit," he said as the both of you near a fish cannery. The smell doesn't make you a fan of the place but beggars can't be choosers. Especially with a cop chasing after you.

All seems to be going accordingly to the plan. That is until a very tall and very angry man in a police uniform storms out of the fish cannery and walks straight over to Delsin. "Aw c'mon, how the hell did you know we were coming here?" Delsin glares at the cop. "First of all, you were trying to outrun a pickup truck. How exactly did you expect to win that race?" 'Huh....alright good point.' "And second, we have a GPS link on our phones so obviously I already knew where you were heading!" The officer looked really mad as he spoke to Delsin. Something about the way he scolds him reminds you of how a parent would do so to their child. After that deduction it doesn't take you long to figure out that this is the cop brother Delsin was talking about and that this is most likely not Delsin's first time getting caught by him. "Okay but was this really worth your time to come and arrest me? Is this really the worst 'crime' a person can commit?" Delsin argues. "For God's sake Delsin, no tagging anything during all hours of the day. How hard is that to understand and obey?" The fighting continued for what felt like hours but it in reality only about two minutes had past. Yet who knows how long the two Rowe brothers could've gone at it. Standing idly by the two arguing brothers is not how you'd prefer to spend your free time. "Uh guys?" both brothers turn their head to face you, "I'd hate to interrupt a live family feud episode but I gotta go-" "Oh how nice, Delsin. You managed to find yourself an accomplice," the officer snarls. "Wait-what?" you frown as the officer grabs both your wrists and takes out his cuffs. "Wh-what are you doing?!" Knowing what his actions are leading to, you attempt to break free from his grip but to no avail. "Reggie don't, she's got nothin' to do with this," Delsin beckons. "We literally met a few minutes ago, stop being such a dick!" Reggie looks at both you and Delsin as if contemplating on something but no further actions are committed. "Reg..... C'mon brother, please?" Delsin attempts once more to convince his brother to let you go. "Look officer....Rowe, please don't do this. I've never gotten arrested before and my parents would totally kill before I could even get to court," you plead. Reggie looks at you once more and senses your honesty. He sighs and finally unlocks your cuffs to set you free. You rub your wrists as you mumble a quick thanks as you walk over to Delsin still feeling a bit anxious. "What's your name?" he asks. "(F/-" "(F/N) (L/N)," Delsin interrupts. The three of you share a few quick awkward glances before Reggie decides to speak up again. "(L/N)," he repeats. "Why does that sound so familiar." "It's not... it’s just quite common is all. I- uh I should really get going," you say as you give a small wave of your hand and start to walk back to the spot you first dropped off at. However, before you could get very far, Delsin grabs your arm effectively halting you, "Wait, do you need a ride?" "No it's okay, I was just about to call my cousin to pick me up," you honestly reply. "You sure?" he asks as he releases your arm. "We could give you a ride, Reggie won't mind." Reggie sends Delsin a quick death glare, "Yeah thanks for asking by the way." "Dude," Delsin returns the glare. "It's cool guys. I'm just gonna-" "(Name) I won't mind. Really. Think of it as an apology for the whole handcuff thing," Reggie solemnly speaks. "You sure?" you ask still feeling unsure. He only nods and gives you a small genuine smile. Though it’s a small gesture you could feel the sincerity and gladly return the kind gesture. Delsin on the other hand only uses the short exchange between you and his brother to sneak his way closer to you. Frankly you weren't aware of his actions or how close he was getting until you heard him speak up. "I call sitting next to (Name)," he ardently proclaims.

Reggie mumbles a quick, "Fine by me," as he steps into the driver's seat of his car. Meanwhile you make you way to the backseat with a grinning Delsin by your side. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Reggie pulls up his car by your house and you thank him for the ride as you exit the car. Delsin follows you out and up the steps to your doorstep until you both come to a halt when you finally reach the top. "See, I told you there'd be no robbers or kidnappers waiting for me at home. I appreciate you escorting me to my doorstep though," you sarcastically say to him since he insisted on escorting you up the steps for "protection". An excuse you admittingly find somewhat lame and somewhat cute. "Anything for you," he winks. You chuckle, "Good night, Delsin." "Good night (Name)," he says as he begins to slowly descend the steps of your porch.

As you watch him leave your porch you can’t help but not want the interaction to end. You also notice how sluggish he’s walking and wonder if it’s because he’s thinking the same thing too. As you ponder your options, you take in a big breath before finally deciding on what to do.

“Hey Delsin, wait,” you call out to him.

Immediately he turns to face you,"What, you miss me already?" he gleefully remarks. “Ha, and you’re funny too. Actually I uh….,” you freeze as you realize you didn’t fully think through what you were going to actually say. “Um… I-uh, oh! I just remembered…. you never did tell me why that mistake you made earlier, with the graffiti and all, why it was such a pretty damn good one.” "Really? How forgetful of me,” he complacently states as he goes up two steps. “Why don't I tell you tomorrow?" "Where?" "Anywhere." You hum a bit before finalizing the location, "How about the Latte Owl? Four o'clock?"

“Okay. Just one question.”

“Yeah?” You frown in curiosity.

“Do you go to that cafe for the aesthetics or do you actually genuinely like their coffee?”

You burst into a mini laughing bit before answering,”Honestly, a little bit of both.”

At your answer Delsin starts to chuckle.

“What? C’mon I’m a photographer so of course aesthetics comes with the gig. And their coffee is actually pretty good,” you cross your arms

“Hey no judgement,” he shrugs his shoulders and smiles. “I will definitely be there tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

#Delsin Rowe #delsin rowe x reader #salmon bay #Reggie Rowe #infamous second son #reader insert #A writes #1st part

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mastcomm · 4 years

Text

‘S.N.L.’ Imagines the Impeachment Trial That Could Have Been

If you ended the week hoping that President Trump’s impeachment trial would go on longer, this weekend’s opening “Saturday Night Live” sketch imagined just such a scenario: a parade of self-serving witnesses that wasn’t necessarily an improvement.

This week’s episode, hosted by J.J. Watt of the Houston Texans and featuring the musical guest Luke Combs, began with a voice-over lamenting that the president’s trial “wound up consisting of two weeks of dry debate and posturing, and will conclude without any witness testimony or new evidence.” Instead, the sketch promised “the trial you wish had happened.”

The scene opened with Chief Justice John G. Roberts Jr. (Mikey Day) vowing that he would conduct the trial with “complete disinterest” — only to be replaced by the reality TV host Judge Mathis (Kenan Thompson), who brought his own gavel with him.

Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky (Beck Bennett) spoke on behalf of the president, remarking, “I just want to remind the American people that all men are innocent after proven guilty.”

Senator Lindsey Graham of South Carolina (Kate McKinnon) also advocated for the president. When Thompson asked her if she was worried about how history might judge her, McKinnon replied, “Where I come from, we have our own history books, and on the cover, a T. rex is handing a Confederate flag to Jesus.”

Thompson then called for the testimony of several witnesses, beginning with John R. Bolton (Cecily Strong), the former national security adviser. Strong said the president’s actions left her “deeply worried about the future of democracy,” but when Thompson asked her to elaborate on the contents of a forthcoming memoir, she said: “No, no, sorry, judge, no more free spoilers. But you can pre-order the book now. It’s called ‘Harry Potter and the Room Where It Happened.’”

Pete Davidson as appeared as Hunter Biden, entering the courtroom on a hoverboard scooter and explaining that he now sat on “the board of a Brazilian money-laundering company called Nepotismo.”

Alec Baldwin at last turned up in his recurring role as President Trump, entering the trial with the assistance of a walker.

“Your honor, I’m a very sick old man,” Baldwin said. “How could I withhold aid from the Ukraine? I can barely get around the house”

Thompson asked him, “Are you trying to Weinstein me right now?”

Baldwin replied: “In which sense? Because Harvey and I overlap in a few areas.”

There were further appearances from Alex Moffat as Representative Adam Schiff and Kyle Mooney as Joe Pesci’s title character from “My Cousin Vinny.” (“That is too dumb, even for this,” Thompson observed.)

Baldwin gave a closing statement in which he said, “Ladies and gentlemen of this government place, what I’ve learned from this trial is that clearly nothing I do or say has any consequence.”

Thompson nonetheless found him guilty, fined him $10,000 and ordered him to say one nice thing about Speaker Nancy Pelosi.

Football Sketch of the Week

As you might expect in an episode hosted by an N.F.L. player on the night before the Super Bowl, there were a few sketches in this episode that dealt with football, including a fake ad for Oil of Olay eye black (“Oil of BrOlay”) and a segment that found Watt in an unusual recording session for a football video game.

Still, we’ll give the edge to this filmed sketch called “Robbie,” which models itself on inspirational sports movies like “Rudy.” It features Chris Redd as the title character, a spunky member of his college team’s practice squad who has never gotten to suit up for an actual game, and Day, Moffat and Mooney as his well-intentioned teammates, all of whom are willing to give up their spots so that Robbie can finally play.

Then there’s Watt as another fellow player, who makes it painfully clear why Redd should not be permitted anywhere near the field.

Weekend Update Jokes of the Week

Over at the Weekend Update desk, the anchors, Colin Jost and Michael Che, continued to riff on the impeachment trial of President Trump.

“The impeachment trial is basically over,” Jost began …

… is a sentence I could have said two weeks ago when the trial began. We didn’t even get to hear any witnesses in this trial. And by the way, look at the witnesses we could have had. [Shows pictures of Lev Parnas and John Bolton.] You don’t want to hear anything from these guys? They look like the two characters in a video game who give you the best information. My questions for them aren’t even about Trump. My questions are like: “What’s your deal? Walk us through a typical day. What kind of food do you eat? Is it human food?”

He continued:

It was reported that President Trump pushed for the vote to be on Tuesday so that he could boast about his acquittal during the State of the Union. But now experts are saying that Trump might strike a more humble tone. And we actually have an advance copy of his speech: [Plays an animation of President Trump dancing to MC Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This.”]

Che, shaking his head, picked up the thread:

What better way to start Black History Month than to be failed by the justice system. Why was this impeachment ever a good idea? We would have been better off just yelling, “Citizen’s arrest!” And why didn’t we get Alan Dershowitz? This dude was amazing. He somehow convinced the court that a president should be allowed to break the law as long as it’s good for the country. That’s like telling your girl you only cheated to practice being good at sex for her. You know what? That’s it, I’m a Republican now. I’m tired of losing. I can’t be a Democrat and a Knicks fan. It’s too much heartbreak, man.

Black History Month Salute of the Week

Ego Nwodim appeared at the Weekend Update desk as Dr. Angie Hynes, a professor of African-American Studies at Rutgers University, who said that she wanted to spotlight figures who were not as well-known as, say, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. or Rosa Parks. Instead, Nwodim began by singling out a woman named Cynthia Woods, who she said “showed up at my wedding wearing all white.” Nwodim added, “She is black and she is history to me.”

She similarly called out an ex-colleague who had sent her inappropriate photographs; her twin sister, Angel, who may or may not have cheated with her husband; and the drugstore chain Duane Reade, which Nwodim called “black Walgreens” but dismissed for “locking up the lotion.”

“Duane Reade, you black, and you history,” she said. “CVS, welcome to the cookout, baby.”

Gallows Humor of the Week

Bowen Yang returned to the Weekend Update desk in his recurring role as the fictional Chinese government official Chen Biao, now promoted to the position of a health minister contending with the coronavirus outbreak. As Yang said of his character’s new gig: “It pays more and it’s a lot sadder. I guess I’m China’s new crisis queen.”

Yang explained that he and his colleagues would eventually contain the virus with “patience, diligence” and the use of Burberry surgical masks. He did not seem particularly bothered to hear that American Airlines was halting its flights to China.

“Oh no, I can’t fly American Airlines anymore?” Yang said sarcastically. “The only airline where if you ask for a Sprite, they say, ‘Is Sierra Mist O.K.?’ Who will I pay to throw my luggage in the garbage?”

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thinkinaboutjamie · 5 years

Text

March 7-10

Disclaimer, I’m putting all first three posts into one.

Hey! Pisngi me

March 7, 2019.

I guess March 8 here, I don’t pisngi know. Is this my intro! Hehe I’m on the plane right now, just woke up from a 10 hour flight, about to watch Black Kkklasmen, says it’s based on a true story. I hope i can watch more movies when I’m back home with my jamie baby. I brought soft son on the trip to me, making my flight super duper coz. Okay not much as happened, we ate some Filipino food shoutout to PAL. I’ll write an update tomorrow!

With love and chungus,

Jerzhy

March 8, 2019.

I arrived today? Last night? Well I’m just gonna go with Filipino time. im super tired, I’m just wrapped in soft son. The air con is fucking blasting and dad roasted me for bringing soft son, but look how great of use I’m making of him! Thanks to my love Jamie for the idea of bringing him. I’m planning on sleeping for a bit, since we just got here. I don’t wanna sleep too long cause I wanna see my cousins, I said hi when I got out of the car. I guess I should address their names? The BBS are Yuri, GBoy, Jedd Jedd, Shen Shen, Ai Ai, Sam Sam, Iris, Nikkos, Shifra, Mote, and Cloris.

Update: there was a fucking earthquake

March 9, 2018.

Today I was supposed to go to the mall, but they had no room for me. That’s okay though, I got to spend time with my cousins. I guess I’ll tell you about each of them along the way. Mot Mot is one of the younger ones, he was with me pretty much the whole day. We talked about Canada, about how he wanted to see the snow. They watched me rush my stats homework really fast, but my laptop was overheating my legs in the fucking heat so I stopped doing homework. We went upstairs into one of the rooms, and at one point it was just me, Yuri, Iris, and GBoy. Iris is the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen, she’s 4 and can speak better English than her headass brother. GBoy is kinda stoic at first, but he’s actually really weird and spunky when you get to know him. He’s so fucking tall now. He also has a tongue piercing. Last year, he sent me a package with a hat telling me to come back to hinundayan. He doesn’t show it but he has a lot of love in his heart. Finally, Yuri, is known as the problem child. He’s the one with a lot of issues with parents and respect and all that. To me he’s just the most rebellious one, with that “too cool for school” act, he has the sweetest heart though. Those headasses tricked me into a video recording and I had no idea what was going on. They taught me how to play Flower power, lucky 9, first three, and ongcol ongcol(?) card games. I watched them play tongits and handtec until SamSam lost all of his money. We all kind of chilled in the room until it got too hot not to.

I got to call my boyfriend after this, it was great. I really miss jamie and his voice and big chungus looking pisngis. I wish he was here, he would love all the kids. It’s a nice break from Vancouver too. Shortly after my love patay’d, I patay’d too really early - like 8pm here. Everyone and I mean everyone was drinking, and Ynna’s mother was literally screaming her name for her. She was so wasted my parents had to help her to her motorcycle and Ynna had to drive her home. Ynna is the perfect daughter, beautiful, strong, nice, and top of her class. She is proper and does everything right, she never talks back and is very polite. I sometimes feel bad for her because of how perfect of a mould she has to embody when she’s here, I told her that she didn’t need to be that around me, she can just be a kid. She loosened up after I told her that and talked more, just like when I first told her that two years ago.

Ynna’s mothers screeching woke me up from my slumber. I went into the other room to see what was going on outside, since one of the rooms shows where they gamble. Jedd Jedd and GBoy were sleeping in the big house tonight, but only GBoy was still awake. I talked to him a bit, and he gave me one of his rings, aka “remembrance.”

March 10, 2018.

Today was a great day. The only thing missing is my lovely boyfriend. I think about what we could do here together if he was here. This morning I ligo sa dagat* (swam in the sea) and it was sooo beautiful. I went with two of my older cousins Kuya Tom Tom and Kuya JR, my ninang Ta Ta and my little cousin Sam Sam. It was quite beautiful and nice out there, beaches far beyond the scope of kitsilano.

After we did that we didn’t really do much for a couple hours, we chilled. I was mostly with GBoy, Jedd Jedd, Mote, and Yuri. Yuri danced to some whack ass Filipino shit for me, he also picked out my white hairs, LOL. Yuri, Sam Sam, and Mot Mot helped me learn some bisaya and Tagalog, and they wrote it down in my stats notebook for me to remember. Uncle Raul got Sam Sam a drone, well, two, but not the ones that you’re thinking. They’re just the toys, without the cameras - not the casey neistat bullshit. He lost it, but later he told me someone found it in a neighbours backyard. SamSam is the thickest one, the one most favoured by the parents but most bullied by the kids. They say he’s a cry baby and he’s a bully and an annoying piece of shit, but I actually love him. This morning I saw him literally dancing and stepping over great Lola Deli, and later overheard a conversation that went like,

Kuya Tom Tom: “Sam, did you drink a lot last night? You’re so fat today.”

Sam Sam: “No, I didn’t drink stupid. I am the one to watch over Lola Deli.”

So wholesome eh? We also all took photos today. I look RANK AF so I’m not posting any of them. I also had a heart to heart with my half brother JerJohn. Not sure what’s really going on there. Ate Bianca, kuya TomTom’s girlfriend, also came to visit and eat with us. She played a round of the card games with me and the bb cousins.

To top it all off, I got to FaceTime my baby jamie. My service got cut off today, luckily I was able to catch him before he slept. It looks like he’s having a rough go at home but some days are better - it’s timed like these where I wish, simultaneously, I would be there and he would be here. It would be nice to take him away for a while.

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alamante · 6 years

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OAKLAND, Calif. – The wounded sister of an 18-year-old woman fatally stabbed in the neck while transferring trains said they were “blindsided by a maniac.”

Lahtifa Wilson, 26, said that she, her baby sister Nia and a third sister had been returning from a family outing when they were attacked by a man.

“I looked back and he was wiping off his knife and stood at the stairs and just looked. From then on, I was caring for my sister,” Wilson told ABC7 News on Monday, speaking outside a family member’s home with a bandage on her neck.

Bay Area Rapid Transit Police Chief Carlos Rojas said Monday that officers were scouring the area for John Cowell, 27, who is suspected in the Sunday night attack at the MacArthur Station in Oakland.

Wilson said a woman with a stroller gave her a baby blanket to apply pressure to her sister’s neck, but Nia Wilson died calling out her sister’s name for help.

Wilson said she told her sister she loved her.

“We’re gonna get through this, I got you, you’re my baby sister,” she said.

Surveillance video on the train and at the station’s platform showed Cowell had been riding the same car as the sisters, but they did not interact, Rojas said.

As the group got on the platform, Cowell quickly attacked them. “It looks like it was an unprovoked, unwarranted, vicious attack,” Rojas said.

Surveillance footage showed Cowell fleeing the station through a parking lot and stripping off his clothes there. Detectives recovered a knife they believed was used in the attack at a nearby construction site, Rojas said.

The women’s father, Ansar Muhammad, said one of his daughters called him, crying hysterically, and told him to get to the MacArthur station.

“It’s nothing imaginable, seeing your child on the BART platform with a yellow tarp over her body,” Muhammad said Monday evening as he and other family members joined dozens of people for a vigil at the station. “That is an image I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. So I want justice. All I want is justice.”

Cowell was released from state prison on May 6 after completing a sentence for second-degree robbery, said Vicky Waters, spokeswoman for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation.

Rojas said that Cowell was cited for fare evasion on July 18 and his photo was captured by an officer’s body camera.

BART officials released that image and another one from surveillance video that shows him at MacArthur station Sunday night dressed in a white and gray sweatshirt and carrying a backpack.

In addition to serving time for a 2016 robbery in Contra Costa County, Cowell had prior arrests in Alameda County, as well as warrants out for his arrest, the East Bay Times reported.

Rojas said investigators were trying to determine what led to the attack. They have no information it was racially motivated, but they are not discarding that as a possible motive, he said.

Cowell is a white man who is 5 feet, 8 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds, authorities said. He has short, dark hair, a closely cropped beard and a mustache. The Wilson sisters are black.

Officers on Monday were watching several addresses for him in two counties, but he is also listed as homeless, Rojas said.

Cowell is considered dangerous. BART officials asked anyone who comes into contact with him to call 911.

Nia was “the baby” among six children, said her eldest sister, Unieve Wilson, 37.

She was “spunky, feisty, loved to dance,” she said. “She wouldn’t harm a fly.”

Ebony Monroe, a cousin of the victims, initially said the third sister, 21-year-old Tashiya Wilson, had been injured but authorities later said it was Lahtifa.

Monroe was among several relatives who went to the train station Sunday night after hearing about the attack. She said the Wilson sisters were returning home after celebrating Nia’s late boyfriend’s birthday. He drowned in a lake two years ago, Monroe said.

Monroe, 24, said her cousin attended Oakland High School and loved her family, dancing and makeup.

“She was a beautiful person inside and out, and she didn’t deserve it,” Monroe said.

A man who witnessed the attack told them the suspect came out of nowhere and slit Nia’s throat while she was sitting down in the train and that he stabbed her sister as she tried to stop him, she said.

“She died for no reason,” Monroe said. “We want to see justice.”

The killing was the third possible homicide on the BART line in just five days, the San Francisco Chronicle reported.

A homeless man at the Bay Fair Station in San Leandro died Sunday at a hospital, a day after he was punched by an attacker and fell down and hit his head on the pavement. He was identified as Don Stevens, 47.

Another man, Gerald Bisbee, 51, died Friday at his Pittsburg, California, home.

Bisbee was attacked by a man who was quickly arrested and suffered a bloody lip and a small cut to the back of his knee.

An autopsy Sunday determined that Bisbee died because the cut became infected, Rojas told the Chronicle.

The three deaths appear to be unrelated but they represent a worrying “anomaly,” the police chief said.

“It’s rare that we have a homicide, so of course this is ramped up to the highest priority when you have three deaths,” Rojas said.

___

Rodriguez reported from San Francisco.

___

Information from: San Francisco Chronicle, http://www.sfgate.com

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raosstudio6-blog · 6 years

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Wedding photography: Framed forever

"Snicker all the more straightforwardly. Take a gander at each other. Sit nearer. Bounce higher. Your youngsters should have a craving for getting hitched when they take a gander at these photos."

It isn't abnormal for picture takers to holler off these directions at wedding shoots nowadays. Gone are the days when coordinated representations of the lady of the hour and prepare lined thick velvet-bound wedding collections and were left to assemble tidy a couple of months after the wedding. From the lighting to the inclination, everything is distinctive at this point. Indeed, even the props have changed. Loco bulletins jotted with lively messages have supplanted the quintessential red roses. Online networking is the new illustration room where everybody is welcome to stare at and spout over how culminate your wedding was. Spunky, easygoing and brilliant is the new world request in the wedding universe. While the wedding rudiments in Pakistan are as yet the same, their visual documentation has advanced definitely finished the previous decade.

Extending for over seven days, with individuals of any age and sizes wearing their most beautiful ensembles and articulations, most Pakistani weddings are a picture taker's fantasy. At the point when all is said and done, and the occasions gradually blur into memory, it is the visual documentation that enables these wedding recollections to be remembered. Innovation has absolutely upset this procedure. Gone are the days when the picture taker deserted a dangerous trap of long twisting wires and flashed simulated lights sufficiently capable to dazzle a falcon. Today, cell phones and DSLRs have changed everybody into a Facebook writer of sorts yet it takes in excess of a favor camera to demonstrate your guts as an expert.

Rather than a 'picture taker' cousin or companion waiting ponderously with a camera, families have now begun contracting experts who charge anyplace between Rs20,000 t0 Rs50,000 every day to report their enormous day with style. The scene has enhanced as far as innovation, as well as the feel. Before, meddlesome experts were anxious to coordinate wedding movement, shooting mushy arranged minutes. Today, fly-on-the-divider style picture takers who break down out of spotlight and noiselessly catch genuineness are picking up fame.

"My greatest bad dream was resembling a painted wax show in my wedding pictures. I needed a crisp look, something that coordinated our identities and relationship," says Sanober Adeel who got hitched in March this year.

Barely any represent this new time of picture takers more than the mild-mannered Kohi Marri, who is credited by his companions for achieving the wedding photojournalism transformation in Pakistan. An alum from the Oxford Brookes University and a honor winning photojournalist, Kohi began his wedding photography vocation unintentionally in 2005. "I took my camera since I didn't recognize what else to do at my cousin's wedding. [My cousin] preferred the photos and from that point it was informal." After two or three family wedding shoots, Kohi's elective vocation direction took off. "At first, I figured it is decent to do wedding pictures as a masterful proclamation," he says, however with time he wound up a standout amongst the most famous names in the business.

What's more, that isn't shocking, since he makes a point to shoot an occasion precisely the way he would need his own particular wedding shot — concealed, yet taking extraordinary photographs. "I work alone on the grounds that the individual association with the customer makes closeness. I mix into the circumstance and foundation [to] get all the more fascinating pictures [and] catch minutes that may have been lost else." He asserts that his tranquil style makes him an 'authority in the spontaneous', "I do like children going crazy. I cherish those photos. They result in impromptu diamonds, which are the best."

Kohi's modest mien and liberality with sharing customers has made him similarly well known with customers and kindred picture takers. Maybe the greatest supporters of Kohi's bigheartedness have been the female couple, Sitwat Rizvi and Insiya Syed. "He is extremely one individual who we owe a great deal. When he enjoyed a reprieve in 2009, he passed us a considerable measure of his customers. I [also] recollect obtaining an electric lamp [once] when he truly gave me a fifteen moment compressed lesson on lighting," says Insiya. As an outflow of his confidence in their ability, Kohi even put stock in the match with shooting his wedding. (Discount offer for the readers of this article get 10% off for hiring the team of the best wedding photographer in Faisalabad RAO’s studio.)

Be that as it may, while Kohi is calmer in his approach, Sitwat and Insiya are known for their showiness. Insiya talks with an energetic vitality, and says that they are at a wedding to ensure everybody has a decent time. "At the point when families in a gathering photograph [don't smile], we say 'Would you be able to imagine that you cherish each other' and that naturally relaxes them up."

In some cases, they need to oblige abnormal solicitations. A lady once requested that the couple take pictures on their tiptoes to abstain from catching her twofold jaw. Others appear to experience issues trusting that an all-female photography group can exist in Karachi — an idea which was totally outsider until five years prior. "A hour into [one of] the wedding shoots, an uncle inquired as to why the wedding picture takers hadn't appeared. He didn't understand we were it!" says Insiya. Continually reassuring wedding visitors to relax up, she concedes that as ladies, they can push limits in ways men can't, "The visitors being taped weren't moving, so we remained behind the camera fellow and began moving until the point when the visitors participate." While some would dissent, Insiya feels that as ladies they are more sympathetic which gives them a superior eye for feeling. "Being young ladies we have more touchy eyes to catching minutes. We can anticipate more touchy minutes since we are more enthusiastic."

Tragically, the affectability appeared by picture takers towards the family's emotions is here and there not responded. Insiya says that while her group is treated with friendliness because of their advantaged foundations, picture takers of more direct means are not offered sustenance by the customers on occasion.

Thus, it is trying to influence your own particular families to comprehend this moderately eccentric expert decision. While Insiya credits her family to be immensely steady, Kohi's family did not comprehend his enthusiasm at first and needed him to take up a corporate activity. The story was comparative for Irfan Ahson, whose Fine Art Weddings studio in Lahore gloats almost 275,0000 fans on Facebook. Today, Irfan's effective business takes into account prominent customers, including various famous people, for example, Atif Aslam, lawmakers, and armed force authorities. However, when Irfan, a designing graduate from the USA, at first moved his concentration towards photography, his family was very open in their dissatisfaction. "[My] Dad said [a] picture taker is somebody who doesn't know whatever else… At one point my better half even stated, 'Don't say on your child's school frame that his dad is a photographic artist.'" He includes that the view of the calling in Pakistan is the primary issue. "Individuals believe that anyone who can push a catch is a picture taker with a hands on work."

Until the point when Irfan moved to Lahore in 2010, he took a shot along the edge as a picture taker in the US, covering American weddings. Tragically, his most exceedingly terrible encounters were on account of desi customers. "The gora customers treated me like a craftsman, yet the desi customers were simply coldhearted. They were constantly intrigued by pushing me to get the most measure of work for minimal measure of cash." Irfan likewise hasn't had the best involvement with superstar customers, who have been ease back to pay for the administrations. "For reasons unknown, famous people's think the world owes them!"

In the wake of picking up a lot of involvement in America, Irfan chose to come back to Pakistan and shot his first wedding a couple of days in the wake of moving back. His work got on in Lahore like rapidly spreading fire, and the nature of his photos — in which ordinary ladies, shot against dynamic settings, looked like charming supermodels — justified itself with real evidence. In any case, as a picture taker, Irfan lean towards Karachi weddings as they appear to be less organized. Maybe it is an instance of the grass being greener on the opposite side, yet numerous Karachi-based picture takers demand that Lahore weddings are all the more energizing.

Ali Khurshid, whose Karachi based group has worked in numerous urban areas crosswise over Pakistan, the U.A.E., and Thailand, clarifies the contrasts between the two noteworthy Pakistani urban communities. "Lahore weddings are more lively. They have had desi ghee and they comprehend the verses. The nanis and daadis even know how to move. In Karachi, their hands are moving, however they are not into it. They are moving for their companions. In any case, in Lahore they extremely would not joke about this. The [pleasant] climate [in Lahore] plays a major factor moreover." His very own top pick, however was a wedding in Multan. "They cherish their halwa, which was a gigantic piece of the wedding. The general population there were warm and decent. I adored the pre-Partition furniture, and the pleasant outside areas, which included corridors and fortifications." Shooting weddings is a liberality for Ali and he sets aside a few minutes for it notwithstanding his furious calendar. "I am shooting the most joyful days of somebody's life and it is a benefit. I have shot Hindu, Parsi, and Christian weddings. In some cases, there is so much happening and I need to take a seat and reflect."

It was the want to shoot a perfect video paying little respect to the spending that drove Paiman Hussain and Sammer Sultan of the Karachi-based wander, Lollipop and Laddu, to archive a mohallay ki shaadi alongside their customary top of the line customers. Yet, in the event that your work is great, there is cash to be made in this calling. Consequently, the most recent couple of years have seen numerous new names entering the business, for example, Shahrukh Khurshid who is prevalent for his lofty shoots and Ali K Ahmed, who is otherwise called 'Chota Kohi' because of his surprisingly emotive work.

Be that as it may, for the old firearms in the business, things have not been so natural. With the ascent in rivalry and present day promoting methods, for example, Facebook, the individuals who have not extemporized have needed to say goodbye to their vocations.

"You must have the capacity to offer extraordinary administrations and furthermore have the capacity to meet the changing requests of the customer. Or on the other hand else you can't survive," says Nusrat Jamali, who has been working exclusively in the market for as long as 30 years. Be that as it may, he concedes that the expansion in rivalry has driven up costs which is a positive sign.

Getting the correct picture taker includes over the couple's wedding plan for the day nowadays and excessive spending plans are put aside to get the correct name on board. The appeal additionally implies that the appointments should be made well in front of the huge day. "My life partner and I settled our picture taker seven months previously the wedding. We needed somebody who comprehended what we needed from the photographs and would be accessible for every one of the dates," says Tooba Khurshid who got hitched early this year. "On the off chance that you are putting such a great amount of exertion into the entire issue, it is just sensible to burn through cash on the individual who will transform it into a memory."

In spite of the fact that obviously every one of the picture takers adore their activity, the calling is positively requesting. A run of the mill wedding shoot can take up to five hours, amid which the picture takers are tried for both adaptability and continuance. To keep up, Ali Khurshid went on an extraordinary protein eating regimen to enhance his wellness levels and Ali K Ahmed chose to finish a back surgery because of the rigors of the activity. Working late into the night is likewise an issue because of the security circumstance in the nation. Most picture takers, particularly those based out of Karachi need to take a firm remain on the cut-off time.

Attempting to record other individuals' glad minutes unavoidably implies that you have almost no time for your own. The calling is a twofold edged sword — while the picture takers wind up making incalculable companions at their occasions, it incurs significant damage on their own lives. "My significant other naturally had grumblings in light of the fact that my work never finished. It began outside with shoots, and proceeded at home. Social life was dead, and is currently much more terrible, yet I have downsized since I turned into a father," says Kohi.

While the picture takers can convey the correct apparatus and aptitude to the table, it at last relies upon the couple to convey the correct disposition to the wedding. Shahrukh Khurshid, who takes note of that the hosts regularly have dark circles under their eyes, exhorts, "Examine and go to a choice with your family in the matter of how you need your picture taker to shoot, to maintain a strategic distance from strife on your [big] day. Unwind, and keep in mind to have some good times!"

Insiya additionally underlines the significance of positive vitality. "There is no reason for worrying over stuff you have no power over. You can feel the pressure and you can feel the affection. In the event that you have a ton of fun, your pictures will wind up looking you like had a ton of fun."

The article is written by the team of RAO’s Studio.

To learn more about us please visit our website at raosstudio.com

#photography #pakistan #faisalabad #lahore #karachi #wedding photoshoot #wedding photography