#free jazz workshop

[shihlun]

Jeanne Lee, Workshop Freie Musik, 1994.

#jeanne lee #free jazz #jazz #free improvisation #1994 #Workshop Freie Musik #Freie Musik

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #mad science #supervillain community #bonus points if you can pull out some super niche comic villain #justice for kite man #local child of a crazy chemist: so you know that trick you showed me with the soda and the reaction that could turn into just like all foam #Danny: yeah and also back the fuck up #lcoacc: so it’s been like my comfort food right but like I started wondering what you could do #danny: oh no (he says while making what amounts of an overachieving smoke bomb) #lcoacc: so I was like what if I add more of a base to it so it could be solid and then maybe just like a LIL acid to see what happens #Danny: oh ancients #lcoacc: but then the killjoy supes came in a ruined everything from where I was ruining lex Luther’s day #Danny:… did you get in on camera #lcoacc: OF COURSE. oh also like everyone ever if coming over for a sleepover lol #Danny: WHAT I CANT FEED YOU MONSTERS #lcoacc: no worrries we’ll rob a bulk store or something lol #Danny: nO

[dewdropdinosaur]

Fixer Upper

ALASTOR x (F)READER

Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: NONE

For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.

Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.

One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.

Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.

"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"

Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"

Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."

Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."

The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"

The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.

As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.

Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on,  fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.

Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.

But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.

Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.

Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."

A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.

With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.

The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.

The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."

Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"

As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.

But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.

And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.

With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #answered #vizziepop #radio killed the video star #alastor the radio demon #request #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #radio demon #cursed cat alastor #radiostatic #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #take that depression #ask and you shall receive #alastor fluff #tooth rotting fluff

[effortandmore]

tuesday moon | knj (18+)

summary: being “just friends” with kim namjoon sucks

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: fluff, smut

au: university, co-workers to lovers to friends to lovers again (they're oblivious)

warnings: it's mostly fluff i think. they're oblivious. smut: minors should not be interacting/reading, namjoon has a big dick, a lil praise kink, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, the usual suspects i think. drinking (but not before they sleep together), tae is into new age jazz... and they were roommates!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so... i had this dream a couple months ago and couldn't get it out of my head, so here you go. thanks, sleep brain. the title is from a neutral milk hotel song (but tbh the '23 album isn't great). thank you to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. and then for doing it again when i couldn't even find the mistake you told me was there 🙃

read on ao3

You’ve learned a lot in university—which given how much money you’ve spent to be there is a relief. But amongst business classes and writing workshops and statistics, the most important knowledge you’ve gained is that of small things. 

Of small things and how they can change your life in unbelievably big ways. 

Kim Namjoon isn’t exactly small. But the events that put him right in the middle of your life are. The first day you meet him is a Tuesday. Tuesdays have always been for non-events: for meetings and your least favorite classes… For snagging a coveted dryer on the third floor of the dorm building because Jeongguk saves it for you when he’s finished with his seemingly endless laundry. Tuesdays are for your first real uni friend, Taehyung, to show up to the laundry room unannounced and make you listen to weird new-age jazz on his phone that you hate, but love how much he loves it.

And then your work-study starts. A job in the library is supposed to be easy, has better hours than a lot of the jobs that are available, and pretty much only requires you to understand the Dewey decimal system so you can reshelve things quickly. You can count and read, and those seem to be the only things the head librarian cares about. Cake. 

Your first training day is a Tuesday. It’s a rainy afternoon, and in one of the conference rooms in the back of the law floor are you and three other new employees. Right away, it seems like Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon are already friends. They joke and whisper throughout the orientation videos and absolutely make you feel like a fourth wheel. At your first break, Hoseok extends the invitation for you to sit with them when he notices you still sitting by yourself in the back of the room, and it's then that you learn they for sure already knew each other—music majors and all in the same class even though Yoongi is a little older than the other two. They signed up for all the same work-study assignments hoping they’d be placed together, hoping they could have a chance to work on music during slow times at the slowest work-study assignments. Namjoon, though, who has been quiet the whole time, finally speaks up at this. 

“Well, I also like books,” he says softly, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. “So, I guess I had an ulterior motive.” 

“Of course you did, Namjoonie,” Hoseok replies. 

Yoongi turns to you, explaining, “Namjoon’s a double major. Smartest guy we know. Literature and music.”

You talk more with them after the ice is broken—Yoongi’s a double major, too, math and music. Hoseok raps and does street dancing in his free time, and around the three of them, you feel like you’re woefully underachieving just at life in general. 

“What about you?” Namjoon prompts after you get some background on all of them. 

“Ah… nothing impressive. Economics major. Just what my parents wanted, you know. But I like books, too. I volunteer at the public library already, but it doesn’t exactly help with tuition.” 

“You volunteer?” Namjoon repeats, looking surprised. 

“Oh, yeah… It’s no big deal. I just read books to kids sometimes.” 

“That’s awesome,” he says, and the look on his face tells you he might actually mean it. Next to him, Yoongi snickers and Hoseok smiles brightly at you. 

“Namjoonie here has wanted to volunteer doing park clean up for a while, but Yoongi and I are always dragging him to the studio on the weekends, so he doesn’t have time.” 

Namjoon shrugs. “It would be nice to feel like I’m helping, I think.” 

“It is,” you agree, sharing a look with him across the table. “The purpose of life is to be useful…” You mumble the quote under your breath, assuming they wouldn’t know what you meant anyway. 

“Emerson?” Namjoon asks. 

“Oh! Uh… yeah, I mean… That’s what people think, but probably not. It’s most likely from a speech someone else gave when they gave Emerson an award, but most people think it’s him—” you cut yourself off when you notice Namjoon’s eyes gone wide.

“Self Reliance is one of my favorites,” he says, leaning forward, excitement playing in his voice. 

“Same! No one ever knows what I’m talking about, but ‘Nothing at last is sacred but the integrity of one’s own mind’ is maybe my whole life philosophy,” you ramble, just happy that someone might finally know what you’re talking about. No one in your economics classes ever shows any interest in philosophy, anyway. Your roommate calls you a nerd every time you bring stuff like this up, and Jeongguk just stares at you with big eyes like he wants to drink every word you're saying but doesn’t understand a drop of it. But Namjoon actually looks… interested in what you’re saying. More than interested, even.

Yoongi elbows Hoseok and smirks. “Namjoon’s in trouble,” he says. 

But before you can ask what that means, the head librarian interrupts to tell you it’s time to get back to training. You have to partner up for training to use the library’s reservation and shelving programs, and Namjoon comes right up to you, grinning shyly, and asks if you want to be his partner while his friends whisper on the other side of the room. You know immediately how this is going to go. Or you think you do, anyway.

And you’re right. By the end of the first week of your work study, you’re in Kim Namjoon’s bed. 

It’s just like it sounds. 

You’re naked, legs bent at the knees and open with his head between them. You noticed his brain first, but it only took that first afternoon to realize that not only was he smart, but stupid hot and kind and sort of funny in the sarcastic way you like, and he seemed to like something about you, too.

On Saturday, you work a slow shift together, both of you using most of the time to catch up on homework, and when it’s over, he asks if you want to come back to his place and keep studying. You agree quickly, but as soon as you get there, you realize you’re both on the same page about being more interested in studying each other than your class work. One thing leads to another, and here you are, moaning into your own palm as he flicks his tongue over your clit in a steady rhythm. 

“Namjoon, I–” You’re pathetic, you think, gasping and barely able to make words come out of your mouth, but fuck if he’s not good at this. Better than you’d thought he would be, actually. He came across as a little on the shy side during work, like he might be one of those guys who needs you to tell him where the clit is. Eager to please, but not quite sure how to go about it. Willing to take direction. 

He is not that.

“Gonna come, baby? You like my tongue that much?” Namjoon lifts his head to ask, and his lips are slick with you and his voice is deep and his fingers just don’t stop moving… It's so much. 

“Yeah, so close…”

At that, Namjoon smirks and ducks his head back down to finish the job. He makes quick work of you, sucking on your clit and twisting one of your nipples with his free hand. The other has two fingers fucking into you in just the right way, just shallow enough to hit your g-spot each time he pushes in. 

The orgasm builds fast, pressure from the inside, pressure from the outside… Everything feels so, so good, and you try to tell him so, but all you can do is whimper through it, clenching your thighs around his ears when you come on his tongue and he tries (bless him) to keep licking your core as your knees shake. 

“Fuck,” you say on an exhale, arm tossed over your own forehead.

“I’m down,” he teases. 

You’re about to say something sarcastic back, but when you lift your arm and look down at him, you lose that train of thought. He looks fucking incredible: flushed, a little sweaty, chin shiny with your orgasm and he’s grinning with those stupid dimples out… How could you not give him everything he wants? Maybe it’s the orgasm talking, the sweet rush of dopamine affecting you when you say, “I want that. Fuck me…” And for emphasis, when he stares at you a little stunned, you add, “Please, Namjoon?” 

He only nods, enthusiastically and a little dopey with it, a little like the boy you saw in the library. But when his cock is out—big… like, really big. Why even have a cock that large, really? What’s even the point of that?—he’s smirking and appropriately (you hope) confident again. 

“That is…” you look down and make a vague gesture in the direction of his dick, which makes him look down, too. 

He shies almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s okay if it’s too much or whatever…”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just… You look good.” You scoot up so you can have level eye contact. “Want you to fuck me. I can handle it, promise. I want to.” 

Namjoon swallows, visibly nervous, but agrees anyway. 

You knew it would be fine. Any partner who makes sure to tell you you’re beautiful, who makes sure you come first, who pays attention to your body the way he has for the last couple hours is probably going to keep doing that, you decide. And he does. He’s careful, even though you think it might actually be killing him a little to not move once he’s over halfway inside you. He checks in with you, makes sure the consent is still there, and then when you ask him to “actually fuck me, Namjoon… want your cock… all of you,” he does. And he delivers. 

You’re essentially sitting in his lap, his palms spread on your hips as he moves you on his cock and it is… Well, it’s unequivocally the best anyone’s ever fucked you. His lips are on your neck, your breasts, the swell underneath them where they meet your ribcage… He keeps talking to you in his raspy whisper, making sure you feel okay, telling you how good you feel to him. There are times when he gets a little porny, telling you how tight you are (you’re sure a cock that big hasn’t seen anything not tight), and then he says, half out of breath, “Knew you would be a good girl. Knew it from the first time I saw you.” And you didn’t even know you wanted to be a ‘good girl,’ but suddenly you very much do. 

Before he comes, he makes sure you do again, too. His thumb finds your clit and his lips are hot against your ear, whispering filth when you tighten around his cock and shudder in his lap. He’s not far behind you, pulling your hips down when he thrusts into you a little harder, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort. He’s quiet when he comes, just a low moan of your name as he stills under you. 

After, it’s the small things he does that you like. It’s nice that he doesn’t try and move right away, just runs his hands up and down your back—soothing, almost. The closeness is nice, his head resting against your collarbone while you stroke your fingers through his hair. It feels intimate, more than a first time or a one night stand with your coworker should. But neither of you make a move to change that, so maybe it’s alright. 

For now. 

You haven’t exactly been the most social university student, but you know how these things are supposed to go. You clean up, you get dressed, you make awkward small talk about your classes or your work study and then you go your separate ways. You go back to your apartment and you don’t talk about what happened. He might look at you like he knows what’s underneath your hoodie next time you see him, but you know it won’t happen again. That’s not how it works. Not for you, anyway.

Kim Namjoon is a good guy, that you’re sure of. He’s a hard worker, he’s smart, he has lots of friends and hobbies and between that and school and work, you know there’s no way he’s looking for a relationship, and you also know he’s going to do his best to let you down easy if he thinks that’s what you’re after. 

But, he’s your friend. And your co-worker, and the sex was great, so you want to at least spare him the effort of all that. So, when he gets up to dispose of the condom and find a washcloth, you get dressed quietly, pack your textbooks, and do your best to look mostly put together by the time he comes back. 

“So,” you start as he returns to his room, “that was great… Really great, Namjoonie. Thank you.” 

He looks… confused. “You’re thanking me for sex?” 

“I uh… yes?”

Namjoon gives you a dimpled smile with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused. “Okay… Well, you’re welcome, then. And thank you.” He gives you a teasing bow, and with it, you feel a little relief. Because he’s obviously ready to move forward and this can just be a fun thing that happened and you don’t have to make him worry about letting you down, and you don’t have to worry about how much you fucking like him already. You can just be friends. 

The problem, you realize quickly, is that being “just friends” with Kim Namjoon sucks. 

It’s like sending your poor, delusional heart through a cheese grater with each of your work-study shifts. It’s swallowing down every dream of happiness when you have to sit next to him at a party and watch him nod along in agreement as Hoseok tells him how hot the new guy in his dance class is. (The guy is hot, with at least a 6-pack, big, pouty lips, and biceps like cannons. So, even you have to agree they have a point.)

Okay, that’s probably dramatic. Incredibly dramatic according to Taehyung and Jeongguk. Which, honestly, says a lot coming from them. 

So, you do your best to forget your crush and just be cool about everything. You both make a frankly commendable effort to never talk about what happened between you, and after a few weeks, things don’t feel quite so weird. Namjoon’s probably relieved you never mentioned it again, didn’t expect him to be your boyfriend or anything. 

You think you’ve done well. 

At one party, halfway through the semester, you meet Namjoon’s friend, Seokjin. He’s quiet at first, polite with a big smile and a nervous laugh. He sticks close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and it doesn’t take long before he’s being shuttled across the large backyard in your direction. 

“Hi,” he says simply. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Oh! That’s good… I think?” 

“Yah, Namjoonie here—”

“Well, that was great!” Namjoon interjects. “Glad you two finally met. We’re late for something, though. So, bye!” And then he’s pulling Seokjin behind him through the yard in the opposite direction. It’s so weird. 

In his protests, you’re pretty sure you hear him say, “You’re ridiculous,” to Namjoon. If you were more sober, you would have recognized it as the first small thing that should have tipped you off. 

The second thing happens right before summer break. Your whole group, consisting of your and Namjoon’s friends, are sitting around at lunch discussing everyone’s plans for the summer. Hoseok and Jimin (the hot dancer he wouldn’t shut up about who is now his new boyfriend) are going to a dance clinic on the other side of the country. Jeongguk is going home, promising you he’ll leave you a list of acceptable laundromats in his absence. Seokjin and Taehyung are working—teaching acting classes to teenagers at summer camp. 

Yoongi’s got an internship, so he’ll be around, but barely since it’s in the city and your university is a little outside of town. It’s a long subway trip, so he’s got a sublet up there he’s moving into for the summer months. 

And then it’s Namjoon’s turn. 

“I’m staying. Not on campus, obviously. But I found an apartment and I’m looking for a roommate.” Everyone nods along except Jeongguk, whose eyes dart from Namjoon to you and back several times. 

“What about noona?” he finally says, hooking a thumb in your direction. “She’s staying, too.” 

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“That’s not a bad idea…” 

Namjoon and you look at one another. He’s flushed, and he’s doing that thing he does when he’s nervous where he rubs his throat. 

“I’m sure Namjoon has plenty of people in mind already,” you say, trying to give him the out he clearly wants. 

“Not exactly,” he mumbles. 

“This is perfect!” Seokjin exclaims. “Don’t you think this is perfect, Namjoon?” 

You lean over to whisper to Namjoon, “You don’t have to, it’s really alright.” It feels like you’re making him nervous, you can feel his muscles stiffen where you’re touching his arm, and the flush he was sporting is spreading to his neck now. 

“Would you even want to?” He asks softly.

You’re not sure, actually. It’s already hard work trying to put your stupid crush out of your mind most days. And now, you only see him a few days a week. Your brain (a logical friend) is telling you that living with him will be terrible for your heart. Your heart isn’t as smart and is pounding faster just thinking about spending more time around your crush. Friend, you correct yourself. 

The problem is that only Tae and Jeongguk know about your feelings, and none of them know you and Namjoon have already slept together. So, if you say no, it might be weird. As far as they know, you’re just friends, good friends. Why wouldn’t you want to live with him?

“Yeah,” you reply brightly, swallowing down your nerves, “it’ll be great, Joonie. I can cook and you can help me study for my summer classes.” You’re nodding along as you speak, trying to convince yourself that what you’re saying is true. 

“Okay… sure. Roommates,” he says, looking a little stunned.

“Roommates!”

You stick your hand out to shake his. You’re the least sexy person to have ever existed, you decide, as he laughs and shakes your hand. 

“It was a terrible idea,” you whine into Taehyung’s lap. “He’s just here… all the time. And sometimes…”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t wear a shirt!” You slump further into your friend, making what you know are pitiful whining noises into his thighs.

It’s not like you’d go as far as saying moving in with Namjoon for the summer was a mistake. But it wasn’t great. Actually, it was really fucking great, and that was the problem. Or part of the problem anyway. 

The apartment is nice—nicer than you’d envisioned when he told you about it. Not too big, but on the corner of the building so you got nice light throughout the day. You each have your own bedroom (thank god) and they aren’t large, but Namjoon gave you the one with the room for a chair by the window, even though you knew he’d been planning to write lyrics there. As promised, you cook for both of you in your small kitchen and Namjoon helps you with your summer classes. 

With all of your friends gone or busy, you two don’t see much of them, and it feels like you build your own little world: late nights listening to the records he brings home, eating simple meals by the window and complaining that you don’t have a balcony, getting dragged out on bike rides when the sun falls and it’s cool enough outside, hunched together on the floor of the living room scrolling webtoons and drinking one too many cheap beers, and the worst (best) of all—falling asleep on the couch together before you wake up with a jolt realizing your head is on him and it’s far, far too much to realize his chest is in your face… so you scramble to your room like a coward and don’t fall back asleep, too keyed up. 

Seokjin, when you do see him, adds in more and more “old married couple” jokes as the summer goes on. He makes fun of your chore lists on the fridge, cutely decorated with whatever doodle has been occupying Namjoon’s mind that week. 

(Jin doesn’t even know that when all the chores are done, you save the little post-it notes, snatching them off the fridge when Namjoon’s not around or not paying attention, and putting them carefully into a little box in your desk drawer with all the other scraps and mementos of your friendship you’ve kept over the almost-year you’ve known him.)

Jin teases you when he lets himself in, late in the mornings, and finds the two of you still asleep, tumbled atop each other on the floor, record-listening session gone too late, the needle still digging into invisible grooves at the center. 

It’s not his fault it doesn’t feel like a joke to you, he doesn’t know that you feel like the 45 and all of the jokes and all of Namjoon’s smiles and all of the little notes he leaves and the way he blushes when you come out of the bathroom in your robe like maybe maybe there’s just a chance you’re not the only one still thinking about that one time… that those are the needles, and you’re here, spinning in place while they poke and prod and dig for a melody that just isn’t there. 

Namjoon, to his credit, is the very definition of a good friend and roommate. He does all the little things. He brings you breakfast sometimes when he’s been out all night and knows you’ll be waking up shortly after he comes home. He cleans, so that even though he’s got so much stuff (endless records and books and figurines and things he just thought were cute), your apartment never feels dirty, just lived-in and homey and a little cluttered. Buys toothpaste when you forget—before you forget, even. Puts your favorite flavor of soju in the fridge every week even though he hates it. 

And it’s not just what he does at home (your home. with him. which you try not to think about because the way the thought makes your heart swell and almost burst is dangerous and confusing, and you hate that you can’t stop thinking about it entirely.) he takes you out, too.  It helps that he’s more social than you: gets you outside in the real world between classes and studying. Makes sure you touch grass. Does stupid dances with you to bad music at worse clubs. Buys you hotteok at 2am because he knows you want it even though you won’t admit it so he says both pieces are for him and lets you argue that it’s bad for his heart and you’re willing to take one off his hands just for the sake of his health… because you care for him. 

You don’t let yourself think about the way it seems like he flushes and his eyes twinkle a little when you say that. It’s got to be in your imagination. 

He doesn’t know that each time he goes out of his way to do something nice for you hurts a little. Doesn’t know that each time he’s a touch too sweet, you wish you’d stayed that one time. Can’t possibly relate to the way you wish that one night turned into a date turned into something more, maybe. 

And you know he can’t relate, because he’s started doing this thing while you’ve been living together: talking about someone. Someone that he likes. 

It’s devastating and you try so hard not to cry on the nights when it comes up. You succeed in never crying in front of him, but if you drip snot onto your pillow trying to hold back your sobs once you’re alone in your room, he doesn’t have to know. 

You don’t know who she is, but you’ve overheard Namjoon on the phone with Yoongi talking about her. She sounds great, if Namjoon’s probably clouded judgment is any indication. He thinks she’s smart and talented, says she sells herself short and he thinks she’s as close to perfect as anyone on the planet. He doesn’t go out without you too often, and you don’t ask where he’s been if he doesn’t offer, but he must be spending time with her because you catch him on a video call with Hoseok saying she can cook and she’s brilliant and she’s everything he’s ever wanted. 

She also sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s got, because Namjoon’s convinced she doesn’t like him back and that she’s out of his league—you finally ascertain that the reason he’s been going to the gym more was because one time she said she thought another guy had nice biceps and he knows they were bigger than his. 

One time, you come home late, catching Tae at a bar near campus after he’s done with classes and drinking a little too much. You’re not drunk, but you’re in that warm space past sober where everything is a little softer and funnier and Namjoon looks dangerously pretty sitting at his desk with headphones on working on a song. 

You plop on his bed, as you do now, and wait for him to notice you’re there. It doesn’t take long. 

“Hey,” he says as he pulls off the headphones. He’s giving you the double-dimple smile, which is especially effective when you’re tipsy like this. Throws you more off-kilter than another cocktail would have. “Have fun with Tae?”

“Hmm… yeah.” You lay back on his bed and don’t let yourself worry about your shirt riding up or your hair spilling around you in a haystack. It’s just Namjoon, and you know he doesn’t think about you like that, know he’s already seen you with more skin showing, hair messier. 

“Need me to get you some water?”

“No,” you sit up on your elbows, “s’okay. Didn’t drink too much. What’re you working on?” 

Namjoon is staring right at you, something indiscernible on his face. He looks almost like he’s in pain or something. “You alright?”

He shakes his head and looks embarrassed. You have no idea why. “Yeah, fine… I’m fine. Just a song, nothing too special.” 

“Can I hear it?” 

“It’s personal… Kind of silly. It’s not done yet… I’m not sure you’d like it,” he says. 

“I like everything you make.” It comes out too honest, you’re not sober enough to hide the tenderness in your voice, to wrap it in something less vulnerable.

There’s no response to that, and you worry you’ve given too much away for a split second before he unplugs his headphones and hits play on the song. And if you thought the sight of him working, bathed in moonlight and neon, was beautiful, this song is truly something else. 

It’s lovely—sweeping melody and building building with layers until it crashes all around you, his voice low and quick, persistent with words of love. It’s a love song disguised as wordplay, or maybe the other way around. It’s him in music: smart and beautiful and selfless and breathtaking… You want to keep it, you want it to be yours, you want the words to be about you or for you or just written with you in the back of his mind. It’s too much, it’s so so beautiful, and you know it’s about her. It’s for her. She’s the one who has his attention and who gets his words and it makes you want to crawl under your blankets and never come out like a petulant child. 

You’re laying down again, so you don’t know what he’s looking at as you listen. When it ends, you’re asking the question even though you don’t want the answer, even though him saying it will make it too real. “Is it about her?” you whisper. 

“Yeah,” he answers, just as quietly. “It’s about her.” 

You sit up quick, make sure you’re turned away from him so he can’t see the tears that are beginning to drip down your cheeks. 

“It’s pretty,” you say as you head toward the door, hopefully not giving yourself away, not looking back in his direction. “Really pretty. She’s lucky, Namjoonie.” 

You don’t see the confusion on his face as your bedroom door closes behind you. You don’t hear him tell you goodnight in a small, concerned voice. 

After song-gate, you do your best to put a brave face on and move forward. It’s more for him than you, you have to tell yourself. Because you, your heart, you don’t want to let him go, can’t stand the idea of watching him be happy with someone else. But you, Kim Namjoon’s best friend, you want nothing more than for him to be happy, even if it’s not with you. And it’s hard, but for the most part, you let that version of you win. 

You give him broad smiles and you keep not asking where he’s going when he leaves without you. You try really hard not to overhear his calls with Hoseok and Yoongi and when you do, you give him a ridiculous double-thumbs up and tell him to go for it, that she’d be a fool to turn him down. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one who ends up looking foolish in that moment though, even if you really, truly mean it. 

One day (of course it’s a Tuesday), you come home from class, and you’re sorting through the mail when you spot a card on the counter that wasn’t there in the morning. Namjoon must’ve left it when he came home, you can hear the shower running from down the hall. It’s rare he beats you home on Tuesdays, always saying he’s got “something” to do “across town” and you just assume it’s with her, so you don’t ask. 

But what’s more interesting than him being home early is what the card is: a temporary driver license issued to one Kim Namjoon. It’s got a picture of him, dimples out and glasses on, dated that day. You hadn’t even known he’d taken the class or the tests. You wonder why he wouldn’t tell you… It’s a big deal to him—he’d always said he didn’t need it, liked taking the bus and the metro. Thought cars were bad for the planet and that there were too many of them in the city anyway. But here’s the card, proof that for some reason he thought it was time for a change. 

“Oh! You… I didn’t mean for you to find that…” 

You look up. Namjoon’s standing by the couch, watching you examine his license, wrapped in a towel because if there’s a god, he only wants you to suffer. 

“You got your license?”

“Ah… the temporary one, yeah. Still need to take the road test.” 

He seems nervous, fidgeting with the blanket on the back of the sofa. You don’t know why he’d be nervous, it’s cool, you think. One more thing to add to the seemingly endless list of things Namjoon can do. 

“Proud of you, Namjoonie. But… why? I thought you didn’t want to drive.” 

He shrugs. “Don’t really, but… I just thought… Well, I thought if I got up the nerve to ask someone on a date, it would be nice to drive her. Just once or twice. Make it special, I guess. It’s probably stupid, but I thought y—” He cuts himself off and pauses. Looks out the window and scrunches his forehead up like he’s scolding himself. “I thought she might like that,” he says, finally. 

“Did she tell you to get a license?” You’re sure you sound as outraged as you feel when you ask. 

“No! She wouldn’t… No. I just wanted to try.” 

“Okay. Okay, good. You shouldn’t change yourself for anyone, Joonie.” And then you do that thing again, where you say too much, where it comes out too fond. “You’re more than enough just the way you are. If she doesn’t know that, she’s not good enough for you.” 

Namjoon smiles softly. “I’m starting to think she does,” he says. 

And the look on his face… It’s happiness and warmth and fuck you wish it was for you. Those nagging feelings of wanting more more more from him are welling up in your chest. “Good,” you say, still too tender as you set the card in his palm and scoot past him to your room, mail forgotten. “That’s the very least of what you deserve.” 

Later that night, you’ve tucked the soft and vulnerable parts of you back inside, showered, ordered food, and sent Namjoon down to pick it up with a stop at the convenience store for soju and beer. You can do this, you tell yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up for the first time you both will hang out with all your friends in months.

The summer is drawing to an end. Seokjin and Taehyung are done teaching, Jimin and Hoseok got back over the weekend, Yoongi’s internship ended the week prior, and Jeongguk is back from his visit home, everyone returning in time to buy books and settle in for the new semester. 

You and Namjoon have decided to keep the apartment: close enough to campus, affordable enough, and you both bashfully agreed you liked living together, an arrangement sealed with the secret handshake greeting from a drama you’d watched together over the summer. So, you have the biggest apartment out of all your friends (which doesn’t say much), and they’ve all decided in your group chat that the group “welcome home” party would take place in your living room. 

Seokjin and Taehyung arrive first, Jeongguk in tow. They’re pouring through your door play-fighting and laughing and for a minute, you forget your crush on your roommate, you forget he’s pining after someone else, and you just feel so much joy that your friends are back as they pull you into a crushing group hug. 

“We brought wine,” Seokjin says. 

“Ew!” (A twin chorus from you and Jeongguk). 

“Fine, you two have your cheap soju and leave the good stuff for the rest of us.”

“Hyung, that bottle was only six—”

“Shh! Have some respect!” Seokjin says, slapping in the air in Tae’s general direction. 

They file into the kitchen to drop off snacks and cheap wine while you leave to dig around in Namjoon’s room for some records to play. It’s a hassle, finding enough that you like and then having to flip them every fifteen minutes, so you finally give up and resign yourself to just playing a playlist off your phone. Or anyone’s phone except Taehyung’s anyway, because “experimental jazz night” was not a hit last time he suckered you all into it. 

When you come back down the hall, your kitchen is suspiciously quiet. There is whispering and you can’t hear what they’re saying but you know anytime Jeongguk and Seokjin are colluding that it means trouble. 

“What’s going on in here?” You ask as you make it back to the kitchen. 

The three of them are reading the notes on your fridge and they all hop around immediately. Jeongguk and Taehyung have the decency to look guilty, but Seokjin just looks like he’s unearthed the lost city or something. 

“What are these?” he asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Our shopping list? Chore list?”

Seokjin grins. “No, not those… These.” He plucks a sticky off the fridge and starts reading it aloud. 

“...And greet the all auspicious day,

Whose privilege permits my song—”

You can feel your face like a wildfire, hot and persistent, as you snatch the piece of paper out of his hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“That’s nothing. Just a poem” 

“That’s not nothing, that’s a love poem.” 

“We just leave each other quotes sometimes,” you mutter, fussing around the kitchen, opening the bags of snacks and setting them on the counter. “It’s no big deal. Just a small thing.” 

Jeongguk looks at you with wide eyes. “And you sometimes leave each other love poems?” he asks cautiously. 

“I guess… It’s whatever,” you say. 

“What’s whatever?” Hoseok’s bright voice drifts into the room. You snap your head up to see that he’s with Jimin, and they’re followed in by Yoongi and Namjoon, carrying all the food and drinks. 

“Namjoon hyung and Noona leave each other love notes on the fridge!” Jeongguk says brightly. “It’s so cute.” 

Your jaw actually drops, and you see in your periphery, Namjoon’s is doing the same. 

“They’re not love notes!” You protest. 

“They’re poems,” Namjoon adds with indignance.

“Besides,” you add, “he’s got a girlfriend or whatever.” You know you sound a little annoyed, and you don’t want to, but it’s worth it if it gets them off your backs. 

“Wait, what?” Yoongi finally joins the conversation, peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen. 

Six pairs of eyes are on you, and one (Namjoon’s) is anywhere but. You get the offputting feeling that something is happening, but you don’t know what. That the boys staring at you know something you don’t. 

“Namjoonie… He’s got a girl he likes. So, they’re not love notes. They’re just quotes we like.” 

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, and then Hoseok says, “Oh my god, they are that bad.” 

Seokjin nods. “The worst, actually.” 

“What? What is going on?” You ask. The question is directed at anyone, but you’re looking straight at Namjoon, who still won’t look at you. 

“I’m just gonna open some soju,” Jimin says. “Come on, guys.” 

The statement is clearly directed at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk, who are all still huddled by the fridge, clearly amused at whatever is unfolding in your kitchen. One by one, they file out. Namjoon tries to follow them, but Yoongi unceremoniously shoves him back into the kitchen with a hissed, “I don’t think so, Namjoon.” 

“I’m so confused,” you say quietly. Namjoon finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and he looks so so nervous. Just like the day you’d agreed to be roommates. You have no idea why, because you’d never do anything to make him feel that way, not on purpose. “Is this about her? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have—” 

“No! I mean… yeah, it’s about her. Or you, I guess?”

“Me?”

Namjoon nods. He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You. You and her.” 

“I don’t even know her, Namjoonie.”

He sighs. “You are her.” 

You’re every meme of confused people trying to do math. You think you probably have a literal question mark above your head. You think you heard him right but… but there’s no way that it’s what he meant.

“What?”

Namjoon looks like it’s almost painful to keep speaking, also a little apologetic. “I like you,” he says, shrugging. “I like you so much, and I’m a dick for agreeing to be your roommate when I felt that way, and I thought after that one time… Well, I thought maybe you needed more and that’s why it never happened again, so I started going to the gym more and trying to… I don’t know. Be more?” He runs a hand through his hair and slumps against the counter. “I just like you so much and I wanted you to like me, too. But I—”

“You like me?”

“Oh, fuck, so much.” It’s almost out like a breath, floats through the space between the two of you, waves itself in front of your face. 

“That’s why you thought it would be weird to be roommates…” you say, pieces clicking together. 

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “And why I tried to get biceps like Jimin and why I leave you love notes on the fridge, and why I wrote you a whole song about how incredible you are, how you make me feel, and how much I want you even though you don’t want me back…” 

“Biceps like Jimin?” 

“You said they were nice…” 

“Oh my god.” Little details of the past few months since you slept together all start floating around in your head and you see it so clearly now, it all starts to make sense, all the silly little things Namjoon does for you because it’s you, because he likes you… and oh no…

“Namjoon.” 

“Yeah?” He’s painfully cute like this—nervous and a little shy, hair falling into his eyes like it can protect him from looking right at you. 

You take a couple of steps closer to him. “I like you, too.” 

“You what?” 

“I like you, too. Just the way you are. I like all the nice small things you do for me, I like how you think, I like how you smell like soap all the time ‘cause you take a million showers… I like living with you… I like your records and your books and… And it’s stupid probably, but I save all your doodles like a teenager would ‘cause I just like you so fucking much… And I’m the bad friend, the one who moved in with you even though I liked you like this. I thought I would get over it.  I thought… I don’t know. I thought after we slept together you just wanted to be friends, so I’ve been trying so hard, but…”

“It’s awful,” he says, a giant grin on his face as he watches you stumble through your confession. “I thought you just wanted to be friends, too. You left before I could ask you to stay.” 

“Yeah, it is awful. Liked you since that first day in the library.” 

“Fuck, me too. We’re so ridiculous.” 

“Jin was right, we’re the worst,” you whisper. 

“You are!” You hear Jin call from the living room.

You let your head fall forward and bury it in Namjoon’s chest as he wraps an arm (with a perfectly sized bicep, you note, reminding yourself to tell him later) around you and laughs into your hair. 

“You’re listening to us?” you protest. 

“Hard not to,” Yoongi answers, “small apartment.” 

“You fucked?!” Hoseok yells.  

“Oh my god,” you moan into Namjoon’s shirt. 

“I bet they made love,” you hear a dreamy-voiced Jimin chime in.

You can feel Namjoon’s laugh rumble through his chest against your ear. It’s the best feeling you’ve felt in months. 

“So,” you start, pulling your head off his chest, but letting him slide his arm down yours until you’re loosely holding hands. “What now?” 

“Well, we should probably talk.” 

You peek around him to see your friends all staring at you. “Maybe later?” you ask. 

“Later is good.” Namjoon smiles so so big. You love knowing that you’re the one making him feel happy, you think you’re a little ridiculous for being jealous of some other non-existent girl this whole time.

“We like each other,” you say, still a little in shock. 

“We do.” 

Then, because you’re you, and you have not ever once been cool in front of Kim Namjoon, you lift your palm up. And because he’s him, and now you know he probably thinks he has never once been cool around you, he gives you a high five, his palm connecting with yours and then lingering there while you look at each other and you try not to lift up on your toes and kiss the shit out of him. 

“Did they just high five?” Hoseok asks, incredulous. 

“They’re so weird. Do you remember when they shook hands on being roommates when it was so obvious they wanted to jump each other on the couch? They probably kissed no tongue and called it sex,” Seokjin says, unhelpfully. 

“Hey!” you shout. “We can hear you!” 

“The sex was really great, for your information,” Namjoon says, and your face heats immediately. 

“It was,” you agree, if for no other reason than it really really was. And you want to make Seokjin as uncomfortable as possible. “Namjoon really knows wh—”

“This is going to be even worse than them being oblivious, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks no one in particular, cutting you off.

But that night after your friends leave, and you do get the chance to kiss Namjoon again, who is now not only your roommate, but your boyfriend, you know Yoongi couldn’t have been more wrong. This is infinitely better than being oblivious to Namjoon's feelings.

“What do you see in me?” he says into the ceiling, sweaty and a little hazy post-orgasm, after you’d made sure to seal your new arrangement properly. No high fives, no handshakes, just long kisses and nervous touches turning more sure, Namjoon making sure to whisper into your skin how much he cares for you, how sexy he thinks you are, how long he’s waited to have you again like this… 

(And you returning those words, moving your hips in slow circles in his lap, fingernails trailing across his shoulders as you tell him how good he is, how gorgeous he looks, how his biceps are the exact right size for you to squeeze—which makes him laugh while he fucks you, and if that’s not the best thing you’ll ever see in your life, you’re not sure what is...)

You lace your fingers with his and turn to him, thinking about all the things you love about him, how all those pieces layer together to make something so big that it seems to take up your whole heart. “I like all the small things that make you, you.” 

And he kisses you as a reply, lips soft and sweet on yours, and you decide that from now on, Tuesdays are for kissing your boyfriend in the moonlight and making sure he knows exactly how much you like him so that neither of you are ever unsure again. 

#namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfiction #knj x reader #kvanity #btshoneyhive #bts smut #bts fluff #bts writing #bts fanfic #bts imagines

[stardust-swan]

Lifestyle of the Refined, Cultured City Girl

She takes advantage of living somewhere with access to many cultural activities. She attends the symphony, the theatre, the ballet, and the orchestra. She visits art galleries and museums. She attends book readings, poetry readings, lectures by experts in various subjects, and writer's talks. She watches independent films in small cinemas. She goes to fashion shows. She unwinds by reading in a beautiful, old library. Many of these activities are free or cheap, so money is rarely a concern.

She has social hobbies, like playing an instrument in a local band, attending a book club or writer's group, participating in poetry readings, and taking evening classes and workshops on subjects like painting, fashion, learning a language, culinary classes, learning an instrument, etc.

She has private hobbies too, like writing a novel, creating art, studying, reading, and taking private music lessons.

On dates, she goes to painting classes where her and her date paint each other's portrait, pottery classes where they make each other something special, fine restaurants where she and her date try new cuisine, and upscale hotels for a fine afternoon tea.

She is always studying. Whether it's in University for a degree that will help her get her dream job, or a less formal education like learning about the world of art from her trips to the galleries, or learning about the history and culture of her city by exploring it, she's always taking advantage of the opportunities she has to expand her knowledge.

She participates in cultural festivities that may be held in her city, such as wine tastings, cheese tastings, art exhibits, film festivals, and book fairs.

She visits historical landmarks and sites to learn about her city's past and culture.

She visits rooftop bars and lounges, both to socialise and admire the view of the city.

She networks with people in high positions, and socialises at events and gatherings like cocktail parties, charity functions, and dinner parties.

She visits both high end boutiques and small, locally owned shops.

She spends time in nature by going to parks and botanical gardens.

She gives back to her community by support or volunteering with a charity or non-profit

She attends a yoga or meditation class at a wellness centre.

She discovers her local patisseries and bakeries and enjoys fresh baked goods.

She takes walking or cycling tours of the city's historic districts to learn about its culture and landmarks.

She visits a local farmers market for fresh produce and unique artisanal products.

She's always dressed impeccably. You will never see her in ratty old clothes, gym gear unless she's actually in the gym, or flip-flops unless she's at the beach. Her hair is always tidy, and her makeup never looks caked on. Her nails are always clean and neat. Her skincare routine is down to a T. She never says "I'm just going to the store" as an excuse to dress frumpily, as she knows there's always the risk of running into someone important and does not want to look like a slob. She does not hold onto clothes that are worn out, damaged, or unflattering, leaving only chic outfits available to dress in. She checks herself from all angles before leaving home to make sure there's no wardrobe malfunctions happening at the back of her outfit, e.g a hole in the back of her jeans. She honours herself, those around her, and her city by looking presentable and neat everyday.

Her home is never cluttered. It is decorated with art, including some paintings or pictures of the city, and she has photographs on the mantelpiece of the friends she's made there. She has a variety of books on a range of subjects that interest her. Her kitchen is well-equipped - no living on takeout for her. She has a set of high quality china and luxurious bedding and linen. She plays classical and jazz music instead of keeping the TV on for background noise. She treats herself to a bouquet of flowers to put in a vase occasionally, and may have a houseplant. She lights candles for a beautiful smell. She may have a collection of herbal teas to help her relax in the evenings. She may even have a well-stocked mini bar, space and funds permitting. Her wardrobe is carefully selected. Her home is stylish, yet comfortable, and always feels ready for guests. She practices the art of entertaining, and does it well.

She knows about hidden treasures in her city that one can't find out about just from doing an internet search. For example, in Paris, a string quartet of musicians meet up on a random day each week and play a free concert in the courtyard of the Louvre, but you wouldn't know this from looking up places to visit in Paris. It's something you must discover on your own or hear about by word of mouth. It could be a small unassuming café that makes the best dish you've ever tasted, or a beautiful building people rarely visit (like the medieval church/graveyard in my neighbourhood that's usually locked up and difficult to see into because of the high walls surrounding it, but if you pass by at the right time, the groundskeepers may be there and let you in to see the blooming flowers and trees beyond the graveyard gates if you ask nicely), an out-of-the-way boutique that sells gorgeous garments, a hidden park tucked away from the main streets, or a secret or exclusive bar or nightclub.

#chic #it girl #hypergamy #hyperfemininity #hyperfeminine #messy french girl #french girl #dream girl journey #girlblogging #levelling up #level up #glow up #life aesthetic #luxury aesthetic #luxurious #luxury #old money #old money aesthetic #coquette #dollette #heroin chic

[urwizards]

Greetings, fellow adventurers and dice hoarders! It's Lambert from URWizards here, your resident dice designer and conjurer of gaming wonders. 🧙‍♂️✨

I'm absolutely stoked to take you on a little journey deep into the heart of our latest creation – a dice set inspired by the ferocious beauty of a volcano's wrath. 🌋

Let's embark on this tale of craftsmanship and elemental passion:

An Idea is Born

We scoured through a mountain of volcanic eruption videos and photos, and even though I've never ventured to an actual volcano, these materials made us believe that a volcano holds an infinite inner strength. It's much like most of us, right? Perhaps we haven't had our momentous eruption yet, but that inner flame and the dreams of our childhood are still burning bright, aren't they?

Molding the Myth

After poring over a volcano's worth of materials, my colleague and I have chiseled out the base molds for our dice set, each with the distinctive pattern only Mother Nature could etch. Varied as the layers of the earth, these textures stretch from peak to base, a hallmark of the great outdoors on a miniature scale.

But don't let the rugged exterior fool you. Like fitting square pegs in round holes, we've ensured that these designs hold the same density as the resin they'll marry, because in the world of D&D, balance isn't just a virtue; it's the name of the game.

Igniting the Palette

After a dozen splattered trials, we finally got the hang of bringing our volcanic dice to life – and let me tell you, it's as delicate as defusing a bomb with a feather.

You see, my hands became a living canvas, often speckled more than a Jackson Pollock knockoff. While painting, one overly enthusiastic stroke and the pigment would go rogue, flooding into canyons we never meant to explore.

Sure, real lava doesn’t play by the rules – it flows where it pleases – but here in the URWizards’ workshop, every stream of molten color is plotted like it’s got a GPS tracker on it.

But we nailed it! Each fiery path now sits exactly where we wanted, a testament to our ‘control the chaos’ mantra. The end result? Dice that look so hot, they could melt your face off – in a good way, I promise! That night, I was so jazzed up, sleep didn’t stand a chance.

Carefully applying the paint. Little volcanoes in the palm of my hand.

Casting the Core

The last hurrah in our dice-making shindig is the resin pour – sounds easy-peasy, right? But hold onto your hats, because we're not just making dice; we're birthing miniature volcanoes here. We're going for that ‘just erupted’ vibe, aiming to bottle up that smoky after-party glow that lingers like the best kind of rumor. The goal? To have that smoggy dance, twirling up with the magma like it's auditioning for a spot in the air ballet. 🌋✨

We've equipped this product with a sophisticated box, the Black Magnetic Rigid Gift Box, as many of our users cherish gifting our products to their most beloved. This magnetic gift box snugly fits a full set of dice—and there's room for a few extras, too.

Thank you so much if you actually follow here. I know it is quite long for a post lol.

Please comment on this, any comment is very valuable for us.

If you have some great design ideas, feel free to share them with us; let's explore together and turn dreams into reality.

#polyhedral #dungeonsanddragons #diceset #dice #dnd #gemstone #gemstonedice #dungeonsdragons #dnddice #handmadedice

[strongermonster]

this is a really weird thing to complain about perhaps + has a really simple fix of "why don't you just switch banks then bc no one cares??"

but last year (maybe the year before?) my bank switched from a very conservative navy blue, berry red, and steel grey colour scheme that had a sort of feel of professional detachment to it that i've come to associate with dry corporate things like banking, to this "fun" new thing that's lime green and hot pink, with (mostly) light grey text on dark grey backgrounds, and uses exclusively black and white pictures of Attractive Diverse Youths of an Indeterminate Age Doing Fun Millennial-Appealing Non-Banking Activities to try and jazz it up, and i... i don't... hate it, but it feels... wrong?

it feels too very specifically engineered. calculated. like, you're a bank. you're a financial institution owned by a larger one that has all the money in the world and does not care to help a single soul with it, but you know it doesn't matter because we're stuck with you anyways.

"free spirited photography" "old-fashioned competition" "energetic black-and-white imagery" why does it feel like they're trying to convince me of something?? this is like a new wave social media app that hasn't figured out how manipulative phrasing has worked yet.

the whole thing feels disingenuous and tacky. they're an online only bank, so they're trying to appeal to millennials and younger by being Hip and Cool with the Youths, but it just feels sour. reminds me a bit of 'they live (1988)'-ish, or when you get a new job and they're like "we're a family here! 🥰" and everything is really sleek and buzzfeed/tech startup-esq and counter-productively techy in a really inhuman way and you end up getting fired over zoom by a bohemian chic hr woman wearing fashion glasses she doesn't need with bangles that jingle the entire time she gesticulates while telling you she's really-really sorry your mom has cancer, but you did break company policy by taking 10 days off this year 😢

also when i say "i don't hate it" i mean uhm. if this was the kind of colours and imagery that someone was using to promote a community-based event that involved interacting with other people, i would find it enjoyable and engaging. but there's something about it being used to encourage engagement with an app designed to take my money that makes me feel uhh well all of the above i guess.

i don't know. corporations have more access to us on a deeply personal level than ever before, so when i see things like this it makes me nervous to think about how many greedy corporate execs sat in a room workshopping the best way to seem like Your Cool Friend like some sort of shapeshifting social parasite. but maybe i'm just paranoid.

#hellooooooooooo i am reading too much into this but i can't help how i feel. it might be the hangover talking #all of this is bc i need to go by drywall to patch the hole we made in my guys wall that he's freaking out over #(RELAX i can fix it seamlessly oh my god chill out about the deposit i'm so good at this) #and i opened my banking app to shuffle money around and he went ''woah your bank is watermelon themed??'' #jj stuff

[tiesthatbind-tf]

hi I have a question about your Humanformers AU: what everybody do after the war is over? Do they settle down or work somewhere? What do twins do? ( honestly I'm obsessed with them😂 )

Well Starscream and Megs are in prison for a spell! Though Starscream does get out early on parole and good behaviour after he succeeds in his appeal thanks to Bee and Windblade's character testimonies. Settles down with Windblade and their two adopted kiddos! Starscream eventually becomes a happy ex-mafia househusband who works part-time as a flight instructor at the nearby flight school. Thundercracker got of with a light community service sentence (as he defected quite early on and helped refugees quite a bit after) and is back to writing scripts and directing plays, which was what he always wanted to do. Settles down with Marissa Faireborn and their furbaby, Buster. Skywarp lost an arm at the end of the Unicron Arc, and had to go through a lot of rehab for it, was mostly held under house arrest. He works in aircraft design post-war and enjoys falconry! He's content living life as a single man!

Windblade continues on her trajectory to become a famed politician and re-establishes trade ties between Caminus and Earth (which were cut at the beginning of the war) as pat of post-war rebuilding efforts. Chromia (formerly an athlete but wants to try something new) decides to give professional wrestling a try! And becomes pretty dang good at it/establishes her own federation back in Caminus. LightBright comandeers her own 'Titan' ship now (Lodestar) and is off exploring the solar system as she had wanted to do as a child! She offers her services to scientists and supply workers in particular. Settles down with Sparkstalker!

OP goes back to renovating and running his old public library in the Dead End (which likely has a new name now to reflect how it's changed for the better) and lives a mostly (deservedly) quiet life as a community leader there, dividing his time between tending to the community garden and his pigeons, hanging out with Ben, sorting out books and running educational programmes/workshops. He also gets called on as a consultant on holistic policing policies every now and then. He visits Megs in prison every week for a chat, a new book and a chess game.

Prowl works in the universe's version of the ACLU---as someone who literally had no rights or liberties of his own and was, for all intents and purposes, a 'government asset' who eventually broke free of the system, he's adamant that no one ever suffers the same way again and is the terror of any government, local or federal looking to go back to Ye Olde Ways. Loves and supports:

Jazz! Who followed his dream of becoming a musician singing on stages instead of just bars and sidewalks now. Focuses a lot on protest-style songs, known for his philanthropy and activism, also very much supportive of Prowl and Prowl's work.

Bee graduated art college! Finally! Married to Charlie and Memo as the cuddliest polycule ever, and divides his time between being a comic artist and teaching ballet at a local theatre. Charlie runs her own repair shop, and Memo works as a reporter with an independent news site! Run by:

Blaster! Who's also collaborating with Jazz on their own recording studio! Potentially dating:

Soundwave! Who is working in animal conversation, specifically with elephants, and helped reintroduce the first batch of captive-bred elephants (they were made extinct in the wild by Quintessons and have been placed under breeding programmes) back into the wild. They keep in close touch with: Laserbeak and Ravage! Who finally said their "I Do"s and are currently travelling the world as free folk (as opposed to before when they were shuttled everywhere as 'assets') even as Ravage continues to undergo therapy to regain use of his legs after Tarn paralyzed him. They often visit: Hound and Mirage! Who are as twitterpatted over each other as they always were and are now married and living in the Shetland Isles, where Hound continues to run his family's farm and Mirage has opened a cozy little tailoring shop in the town where Hound runs his farmer's market stall every weekend. They have dinner with Hound's parents twice a week and are basically living the cottagecore dream. Mirage still has his land and property back in Wales, though he's bequeathed their use to his adoptive mother, who now runs a foster home out of it (which was sorely needed when the creation and used of Cold Constructs was finally outlawed, but left the world with a surplus of these nameless, barcoded kids who had nowhere else to go). They get free medical care from: Ratchet! Who has settled down with Drift and now has the means and money (Thanks Mirage!) to run his own non-profit medical services for communities in need of aid (GUYS HE EVEN HAS A CR CHAMBER???? HE COULD CRY????). He travels a lot and that's honestly how he loves it, all with Drift by his side, in the old ambulance they've now converted into a little camper. At this point, Drift has been revealed to be a bit of a Psychopomp so it's also a very interesting marriage of someone who fights for the living, and someone who comforts those who do not make it. It's actually helped Ratchet find peace with his role in life. Think of the concept of Life and Death loving each other instead of being antagonistic forces.

There's a BUNCH more, but to be specific on the Lambo Twins, Sideswipe and Strongarm settle down, and have two kids! Making Sunstreaker an awkward but eager uncle. Sideswipe helps employees establish unions and teaches fencing on the side, while Strongarm is a tutor at a local firing range and is working towards a law degree. Sunstreaker is honestly just vibing. He's saved quite a bit of money for himself as a smuggler (bad and good) and a former pitfighter and he's just chilling out with Bob and his Niblings, enjoying the life he's always wanted to enjoy----not swimming in money like he thought he wanted, but comfortable enough to be happy with the little family he's part of. Occasionally he'll take up a big-bill MMA match, though it's mostly just for fun and because he's still a little bit of an attention whore who misses the adulation every now and then. It'll make a funny story to tell the Niblings when they ask how he could afford their new backyard playset!

#reblog #save for later

[richardmurrayhumblr]

Setting- Writing Workshop with Betts Week 3

@bettsfic ask us to figure out a place we love and make three public + private facts.

NON-FICTION- I thought of private memories as a child to a place I love. Can you figure out the place or why it is loved, across time?

A common night, in an old hot summer. A boy holds his mother's hand, on an overpass to trees. The boy saw moonlight on the Harlem Strait, a cool breeze hit his smiling face. His mother snapped her fingers, shaking her head side to side, and the boy couldn't recognize why. Then, he heard trees speak like happy piano keys, and his smile widened. Now among the trees, he saw members of his people: sitting down on the grass, relaxed, drinking, smoking, dreaming. The trees were still speaking, and the boy's mother said: "That is Billy Taylor, I wish I knew how it would feel to be free."

And the boy side his mother saw his father sitting past the trees, on chairs that look like funny creatures with skin full of pebbles in varying colors. They all sat. The boy's parents kissed, or talked, or looked at him playing around, like loving spouses do. A musical stage at the heart of this space between the trees was visible. The music was different now. His father said:" Miles, miles, yeah, so what"

The boy watched his father and decided to snap his fingers too.

"Yeah, yeah": said the boy. His mother watched them both and smiled. Only nine minutes seem an eternity: in the trees, amidst the broken cool breeze, alongside your people; they're relaxing, the afros shimmying, bald headed sisters smiling, everybody you see emitting a quiet vibe some call laughing, in the dark. While the boy was smiling, eyes closed, his parents talked. And, the father waited with personal items while the boy side mom got codfish. The boy waited: all day, all week, all month, all year, for this. The codfish was at the side, where the vendors reside. The trees spoke a song with improvisations from crickets the boy cognized, but whose name he didn't remember. Maybe not from youthful carefree, but the smell that filled the walk side his mother with ease. They reached the codfish, bought some, ate a little, returned to the boy's father, and enjoyed the remaining evening. And many more evenings the boy would have, until… no more. No violence or raptures caused said end. Harlem plus all in it moved on, which time demand everywhere. And now the former boy, a common man living in a place only the same in name, hold in his soul: the smell of codfish from a street vendor, the moon light on the Harlem Strait, the sounds of Jazz in everything, the love his parents reared in him, to goals far from Grant's tomb or the trees about it. For his home hasn't moved on in his heart. His home will always be the Harlem of yore.

FICTION- Harlem is where the Harlem Lindy hop, that most people view as the sole Lindy hop dance comes from. This is part of the fictional world I started from the first workshop.

READ IT The Lindy Flops from Richard Murray by HDdeviant on DeviantArt

POEM- use public knowledge- first Black representative of NYC was from Harlem of yore

Not the first Not the only But what could had been

Like the man A preacher man The first Black council

Communal An advocate Wasted in D.C.

Imagine If he mayor What New York would be

For all folk Not just for Blacks The hope could had been

Not the first Not the only But what could had been

EXPERIMENTAL - View from a honeysuckle tree that grew in the Harlem of yore

Grow Yes slow From the low Concrete I sew My flowers scent, tow The humans at the bow Said words through seasons I know

Again, and again, the poem flows in my veins. IT is my only companion among the sensations that live by me. The cold one I slowly eat through is unresponsive, crude. The little starlight ones, landing on me, seem to enjoy my company. Though they never reply to me. The sparkles at my roots. Help nourish me but I never hear them speak, just an electric chattering. Only all types of sensations about me. The wildest frightens me. Zipping by in horde like numbers. How do my flowers survive from my limbs, exposed to such comings and goings? But I know my flowers do and I too survive. And in my age, I fear not the sudden death, that is inevitable among those such as me. I listen to my cyclic poem, the only thing that makes me not completely alone.

Workshop 3rd week

URL

WEEK 1

URL

WEEK 2

URL

VIEW MORE OF MY WORK

Poetry or More -> URL

eBook story collections -> URL

Screenplays -> URL

Audiobook entries -> URL

Storyboard films -> URL

#rmaalbc #artist #richardmurray

#rmaalbc #black #artist #artistblr #artist on tumblr #writer #writerblr #writer on tumblr #richard #richardmurray #tumblr writing workshop with betts

[ludi-ling]

FanLIS23! Call for presentations (CFP)!

Hi everyone! Every year I co-host a virtual symposium called #FanLIS - 'Fan' as in fans and fandom, 'LIS' as in Library & Information Science. Basically, #FanLIS is about the intersection between fandom, fans and libraries, galleries, museums and archives.

The theme for next year's symposium is “Halliday Journals and holodecks: audiences and information in sci-fi fandoms”. Here's the link to the call for presentations: https://blogs.city.ac.uk/fanlis/fanlis-symposia/fanlis-2023/call-for-presentations/

The TL;DR version of the CFP is - if you have something you want to talk about on sci-fi fandoms and fanworks that is somehow linked to libraries, information, data, archives, cultural heritage institutions, whatever, please feel free to submit a proposal. We'll consider it even if you don't have an academic background. Academics need to hear more from fans anyway.

We're geared to students, fans and first-time presenters, and we try to make the event as informal as possible so people aren't intimidated. Hell, running this thing is intimidating, but somehow I make it work despite tech fails and all that jazz.

If you're a fan, you're welcome to submit a proposal. Details are in the link above. If you have an idea, but aren't sure whether it fits - DM me and we can discuss it. My asks are open too. We want this to be as open as possible. And we're also open to interesting formats, not just slideshows. Workshops, vids, comics, whatever, we'll consider it. 😊

#FanLIS #symposium #CFP #Call for presentations #sci-fi fandom #fans allowed! #libraries #fandom #acafan stuff

[joysona]

Open invitation to infodump abt your personal killjoy lore on this post !! Wether it be abt ur oc(s), the fab 4 or other canon characters, zones lore, whatever thoughts u have to scream into the void that u don’t wanna put into its own individual post feel free to leave it here!! I’ll start, oc lore below the cut :>

My oc is named sun spot! Theyre the babysitter and a fairy godmother for a gang called the cosmic crew out in zone 3. Other members of their gang include: Daisy Chain, Ballroom Blitz, and Jenny Jazz.

Sun spot has 2 sisters, both lost somewhere else in the zones. Their oldest sister, Milky Way, is a motorbaby tumbleweed that usually hangs out in the outer zones, and their other sister, Kosmic Khaos, is a crash queen and paper boy based in zone 2. Both are squeaky and lay low in thei eyes of BL/ind for the most part.

They’ve kinda been on a side quest to find their sisters for years. The three split up shortly after their parents died, having grown up in the zones. Their parents were ghosted in a firefight so bad it wiped out the gang they called home and everyone just scattered. Sun spot wound up in zone 2 several days later and was taken in by the cosmic crew in its early days, formerly run by a joy named Bottle Rocket. Other former members include Zombie Eyes and Space Age.

The primary function of the Cosmic Crew is to be a safe haven for joys on the run. Their city raids aren’t so focused on taking down BL/ind itself, but rather on dumpster diving, hijacking supply trucks, and scavenging food, clothes, and other necessities to sell for cheap in zone 3. They aim to take care of their own more than anything else.

The cosmic crew is based in zone 3 in an abandoned warehouse next to an old gas station and a single still-functioning streetlight. Inside, there are shopper stalls to buy food, jackets, etc, a huge section of hammocks and grungy old mattresses for joys to sleep on, a medic tent, and a couple workshops for the gangs resident smithy and gearhead to work out of. Walk in and find a tall ‘joy wearing pink bellbottoms and she’ll direct you to a fairy godmother if you need someone to patch up a jacket. The cosmic camp is open to squatters who need a place to crash as long as they dont bring trouble with them, first meal there is always free!

#ttlotfk #killjoy lore #kjrp #mcr #danger days #fabulous killjoys #fab four #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #killjoy headcanons #zones lore #the zones

[wuntrum]

Can we submit knuckle tatt ideas what kind of character are they

you can if you'd like <3 her name's jas (short for jasmine), she's the bassist for the oc band i'm making ^_^ she works at a record store (doesn't like her job), plays at jazz gigs on her free time, used to be in a different hardcore band...cuts all the sleeves off her shirts, wears the same pair of docs everywhere, went/dropped out of school for a degree in english lit. very passionate about what she's into, and needs to be around people who are at that same level of intensity. i'm still workshopping their personalities but that's kind of the gist...i thiiink i might go with GONE / GIRL because i feel like she'd be really into that book. but again, if anyone has any brilliant tattoo ideas, send them my waY

#asks #im working on portraits of all of them rn #otherwise id include an image of her sljdf #the whole band is very much into like. gay sex and horror #so that helps with their personalities too LDFKJF

[lboogie1906]

Robert Andre Glasper (born April 6, 1978) is a pianist, record producer, songwriter, and musical arranger. His music embodies numerous musical genres, primarily centered around jazz. He has won five Grammy Awards and received eleven nominations across eight categories.

His breakout album Black Radio (2012), peaked at #15 on the Billboard 200 chart, becoming his highest charting album, and won the Grammy for best R&B album. He released the album Black Radio 2. He worked with Kendrick Lamar, playing the keyboard on Lamar’s album To Pimp a Butterfly(2015). He would appear on the soundtrack for Miles Ahead.

He has co-written and produced on albums by Mac Miller, and Anderson. Paak, Banks, Herbie Hancock, Big K.R.I.T., Brittany Howard, Bilal, Denzel Curry, Q-Tip, and Talib Kweli amongst others. He won the 2017 Primetime Emmy Award for Outstanding Original Music and Lyrics for his song “A Letter to the Free” which featured 13th. He composed the score for The Apollo and composed the original score for The Photograph.

He has been an Artist in Residence at some of the most prestigious festivals and institutions worldwide, including the London Jazz Festival, North Sea Jazz Festival, The Kennedy Center, Hollywood Bowl, Carnegie Hall, and the Blue Note Jazz Club.

His earliest musical influence was his mother, Kim Yvette Glasper, who sang jazz and blues professionally. She was the music director at the East Wind Baptist Church, where he first performed in public. He performed during services at three churches: Baptist, Catholic, and Seventh-day Adventist.

He attended the High School for the Performing and Visual Arts. In tenth grade, he performed with the jazz band at Texas Southern University. He was in the second Vail Jazz Workshop in 1997 and attended the New School for Jazz and Contemporary Music. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

[jazzgallerycenterforarts]

OWL April 2024 Calendar

O.W.L. (Older. Wiser. Local) is a program created to serve, enlighten & educate area seniors (50 & up). OWL is sponsored by the Jazz Gallery Center for the Arts, and Bader Philanthropies.

Time: Thursdays & Fridays 1:00PM to 4:00PM

Place: Jazz Gallery Center for the Arts, 926 E. Center Street, Milwaukee 53212

All people, ages 50 & up are welcome. Gatherings are free of charge, free refreshments

Radio Shows:

Tuesdays 7pm on Riverwest Radio, WXRW, 104.1 FM. Stream the show live on riverwestradio. com, if you can't get radio reception. Or listen to the archive anytime at: www.riverwestradio.com/show/ owl-older-wiser-local

OWL Calendar for April 2024

Tuesday, April 2 (RADIO)

Karen Beaumont Presents: Annual Piano Recital

Thursday, April 4 (IN-PERSON)

Jeanie Dean Presents 2 Topics: The Muses, & The Irish Hunger Strike

Friday, April 5 (IN-PERSON)

First-Friday Drum Circle, PLUS Vince Bushell of Riverwest Currents: April 2024 Issue

Tuesday, April 9 (RADIO)

"All of Us" Research Program: Learn How our Biology, Lifestyle, and Environment Affect Health

Thursday, April 11 (IN-PERSON)

Marcia Hero Presents: Art-Journaling Workshop, #1

Friday, April 12 (IN-PERSON)

Milwaukee HUB's Gene Guszkowski: Re-Imagining Senior Centers

Tuesday, April 16 (RADIO)

"The A.M. Book Report," On Media Literacy for Disinformation

Thursday, April 18 (IN-PERSON)

Marcia Hero Presents: Art-Journaling Workshop, #2

Friday, April 19 (IN-PERSON)

Artist Talk for Current Exhibition at JGCA: "Homage"

Tuesday, April 23 (RADIO)

Karen Beaumont Presents: Cinquains of Adelaide Crapse

Thursday, April 25 (IN-PERSON)

Jean Kaldunski Presents: Spring Fling Sing-Along

Friday, April 26 (IN-PERSON)

DIY Creative: Bring your own project or use our material

Tuesday, April 30 (RADIO)

Woodland Pattern's Writers Group: Poetry Reading

#calendar #OWL

[rusty-pincers]

I have the privilege of facilitating a short drawing workshop at Calgary Central Library on March 26✏️

Our time will examine negative space as an added way of seeing the subject and applying it as a tool to tighten up proportion, gesture and spacial awareness in drawing. We will explore both the figure and objects as subject matter. Please bring your fave drawing tools.

You can sign up for this free event on Eventbrite. Thanks to the @panel_one Sketch Sessions team for planning help. See you at the end of March! 🖍️🍊 (PS. The lil colour charts are not course material, they're just there to get you jazzed about negative space🪐)

#yycarts #yycdrawing #yyccomics #yycevents #calgaryarts #calgarypubliclibrary #calgary #auarts

[electricguitarlessonsinperth]

Striking home: Electrifying Journeys With Electric Guitar Trainings in Perth

Overview:

Perth, with its own compelling songs scene and also diverse artistic community, sets the stage for striving guitar players to plunge into an impressive adventure via electric guitar courses. Within this post, our company discover the distinct realm of electric guitar education in Perth, shedding light on the chances, developments, and also cultural effects that shape the urban area's vivid electric guitar garden.

A Metropolitan Area Wired for Sound:

Perth's songs scene resonates with a wide array of categories, and also the electric guitar stores an unique place within this symphony. I Can Play Guitar provides an opportunity for musicians to discover the endless sonic options delivered by the instrument, from blues and also rock to metallic and also beyond.

Versatility and also Style Expedition:

Electric guitar courses in Perth provide for a variety of music preferences and also preferences. Whether students are actually drawn to the bluesy bits of traditional rock, the technological prowess of metallic, or even the hassle-free melodies of jazz music, instructors use tailored courses to discover and also learn a variety of categories.

State-of-the-Art Learning Facilities:

Perth flaunts cutting edge discovering centers for electric guitar courses. Equipped with top-tier amplifiers, effects pedals, and also documenting tools, these rooms provide students with a hands-on experience of crafting their signature sound in a qualified atmosphere.

Technical Integration:

Perth's electric guitar courses make use of modern-day technology to enhance the knowing experience. On the internet tutorials, electronic resources, and also involved apps supplement standard teaching strategies, ensuring that students have access to a comprehensive and also highly included course of study.

Performance-Oriented Programs:

Electric guitar courses in Perth focus on performance and also stage set visibility. Trainees are actually urged to participate in online productions, jam sessions, and also regional gigs, supplying valuable chances to apply their capabilities and also gain confidence in a show setup.

Pedagogical Advancement:

Instructors in Perth typically utilize impressive teaching approaches to always keep electric guitar courses involving and also impressive. Coming from combining virtual reality to utilizing sophisticated software application for songs production, these developments provide for the growing knowing preferences these days's striving guitar players.

Modification for Specific Types:

Acknowledging the diverse playing designs and also music preferences of students, electric guitar courses in Perth use adjustable course of studies. Whether a pupil aspires to be a shredding virtuoso or even a nuanced blues guitarist, instructors modify courses to satisfy specific goals and also aspirations.

Collaborative Learning Environment:

Perth's electric guitar community prospers on cooperation. Trainings typically consist of chances for students to collaborate with peers, nurturing a sense of community and also developing a supportive network of like-minded people passionate concerning the electric guitar.

Access to Industry Specialists:

Perth's songs scene brings in business specialists and also accomplished musicians. Electric guitar courses provide students with access to attendee lectures, masterclasses, and also workshops hosted by these specialists, providing valuable ideas and also networking chances.

Social Effects and also International Connectivity:

Perth's diverse cultural effects add to the distinct sonic scheme of electric guitar songs in the urban area. Electric guitar courses encourage students to discover global effects, developing a cultural combination that adds intensity and also grandeur to their playing.

Result:

Electric guitar courses in Perth amaze the urban area's songs scene, supplying a system for striving guitar players to unleash their creativity and also discover the substantial garden of electric guitar songs. Along with an ideal mixture of technology, innovation, and also cultural diversity, Perth stands up as a fantastic center for those looking for to learn the electrifying art of taking on the electric guitar.

Electric Guitar Tutorials https://metropolitanlocalsearchengine928.blogspot.com/ https://dentrepairakronoh958.blogspot.com/ https://mobileuniongapcarfleetwashingservice.blogspot.com/2024/02/mobile-union-gap-car-fleet-washing.html https://www.tumblr.com/allthingscroatia/742795559053737985 https://roofreplacement836.blogspot.com/ https://electricguitarlessonsinperth.blogspot.com/