#lorenzo suave

[tecontos]

Achei meu comedor no gamer

By; Giuliana

Sou Giuliana, tenho 32 anos, sou casada e venho relatar uma série de eventos que me ocorreu nos meus 30 anos, quebrando vários tabus nessa fase e principalmente me libertando dos desejos mais íntimos.

Passava a maior parte do dia sozinha em casa, trabalhava pela manha e da tarde ate as 9h da noite eu ficava sozinha pois meus marido só chegava após as 9h.

Para passara o tempo um dia baixei um jogo de sinuca online, e lá conheci o Lorenzo, e jogamos com afinidade por bom tempo até que ele se revelou ser meu vizinho de 200m de distância.

Até então, um jogo de sinuca, com alguém conhecido de vista, rapaz mais novo, não despertou nenhuma maldade… até o dia que trocamos whatsap e vi aquela foto de perfil, com carinha gostosa e inocente, o que de inocente não tinha nada.

Comecei a fantasiar a cada partida, vendo aquela carinha linda. Ele estava sexy sem querer estar. Um tesão enorme começou a me tomar, fantasias que me davam muito desejo, mas até então ele não sabia, e ele não me dava a notar que não era nada além de partidas online, até um dia que…

Andei uns dias com um tesão inexplicável que nem eu sabia de onde vinha, comecei a jogar com ele e a mandar frases de duplo sentido e ele entendia direitinho e eu me fazia de besta.

Essas frases foram se aprofundando quando ele disse que nunca viu uma foto minha. Em resposta eu disse, brincando, que mandaria um nuds, no zap.. ahhhhh para quê?

Saímos da partida e fomos para o zap…

Ele queria foto e eu não mandei, mas ele mandou, e ali foi o início de tudo.

Depois que vi a foto de Lorenzo com aquele pau novinho, lindo e gostoso não resisti, marcamos de nos ver.

Em um quarto aconchegante, cheia de vergonha e ele também, sem entender, mas entendendo muito bem porque estávamos ali, sentamos um do lado do outro e um imã carnal nos apoderou.

Conversa? quase que nada, só putaria.

Ele me puxou pra deitar ao lado dele, ainda com as pernas fora do colchão e começou a me beijar molhado e eu respondendo a altura, desceu até meu pescoço e nos enrolavámos um no outro entre nunca e pescoço, descia nos meus mamilos e um fogo subia da minha buceta desejando loucamente que ele me penetrasse.

Coloquei a mão no pau de Lorenzo e estava duro, pulsante e muito molhado. caí de boca como se fosse gelo em um deserto. Comecei lambendo a cabecinha, ficando uns beijinho, enfiando a boca so na glande,saia e voltava pra língua e acariciava o seu saco com uma das mãos, até descer neles.

Ele olhava eu chupando o pau dele com toda aquela vontade e Lorenzo ficava louco, pois eu muito bem sentia o pulso do seu coração na minha boca, língua e labios. Ele começou a tocar meu clitóris de maneira suave, colocou dois dedos na minha buceta e iniciou um vai e vem com os dedos, tirava passava no meu clitóris e eu como louca chupava o pau dele com toda sede.

Lorenzo me tirou do pau dele, disse pra mim:

– vem cá!

Me colocou de quatro na beira da cama, é tocava meus seios por alguns segundos, e disse:

- quer meu pau na sua buceta?

Eu gemia e dizia; - querooo poem

– pede direito!

Em gemidos eu dizia; - poe seu pau na minha buceta, poe…

O sacana queria me enlouquecer e começou a chupar minha buceta por traz e lambia meu clitóris e enfiava apenas a pontinha do dedo na minha buceta. e falava:

- quer meu pau?

Eu gritava e gemia; – quero, enfia tudo dentro de mim!

Ele respondeu; -toma!

Ele enfiou o que eu mais desejava naquele momento, seu pau, lindo, gostoso e molhado na minha buceta e eu gritava como louca. Lorenzo trazia seu pau até a entrada da minha vagina e fazia um vai e vem até ao meio por alguns segundos e depois enfia tudo e socava no fundo. Trazia de novo e quanto mais eu gemia mais ele me castigava até um cheguei ao ponto de gozar e ele percebeu e disse pra mim:

– vai gozar, vai?

– vou, gozar no seu pau!

Ele parou e disse: - não quero que vc goza agora! Vai sofrer!

Diminuiu os movimentos, eu percebia que ele se segurava, pois queria mesmo me foder.

Louca voltei a chupar seu pau, molhado de tesão dos dois, como uma louca derrubei ele na cama e subi em cima dele, enviei minha buceta no pau dele e cavalguei deliciosamente sobre seu pau.

Agora quem mandava era eu!

Comecei a descer e subir, e fui sugando ele com minha buceta, eu olhava pra ele e ele fazia um não de tesão com a cabeça, aquilo eu tinha controle!

Minha buceta pulsava no pau pulsante dele. Ele dizia:

– vou gozar, aiiiii vou gozar.

E eu gemia, gritava, lambida os lábios.

Eu poderia ter dado castigo parando como fez comigo, mas eu estava no ápice e nos gozamos juntos, senti sua porra esguichando dentro de mim e ele sentia os movimentos involuntários da minha buceta.

Depois desse dia passamos a transar sempre, e quando jogamos sem ficamos um atiçando o outro.

Enviado ao Te Contos por Giuliana

[nuestrodestinocomun]

Viaje a Cádiz (2006)

Lorenzo vino a recogerme a la estación de autobuses y me llevó directamente a su casa. No recuerdo celebración o divertimento alguno que nos apartara de nuestra misión. Dormir una noche en Sevilla, tan solo el tiempo justo para tomar al día siguiente el primer autobús hacia Cádiz, y finalmente regresar a casa lo antes posible.

Había salido una convocatoria para cubrir una plaza en un colegio de la capital gaditana, y Lorenzo se había ofrecido a darme cobijo durante aquella noche previa a la entrevista.

Sandra, su mujer, y él, no habían conseguido tener aún descendencia, y el piso rezumaba aquel silencio tenso e incómodo que existe en los matrimonios sin hijos que en ocasiones abruma a los visitantes, por la profusión de atención que les dedican.

La mayoría de las habitaciones, todas ellas llenas de trastos y restos de anteriores mudanzas aún sin desempaquetar, daban al inmenso patio de un colegio cercano y tenían mucha luz, por lo que eran idóneas para poder ubicar los estudios de ambos dos, una vez que consiguieran instalarse definitivamente.

Parecían dos astronautas vagando por el espacio, esperando ansiosamente avistar la inminente llegada de su prole, desde los confines de la galaxia con la onda expansiva desatada de un enorme Big Ban, que daría lugar a la formación de su propia familia.

No recuerdo cenar nada, y aunque sin duda me ofrecieron tomar algo con ellos, posiblemente lo rechacé haciendo alusión a los nervios que acumulaba desde hace ya unos días, con motivo del viaje que debía realizar, deseando poder encerrarme con mis propios pensamientos en la habitación que me habían asignado.

La mañana siguiente amaneció fresca, el cielo estaba completamente nublado y se había levantado algo de niebla. El autobús enfilaba la autopista en dirección hacia la costa, flanqueado por enormes y frondosos árboles que se mecían con el viento a ambos lados de la carretera y que iban apareciendo, a media que avanzábamos, como fantasmas entre la bruma.

No encontramos ningún vehículo más en nuestro camino, ni en la trayectoria contraria. Nadie que pudiera ser testigo de mi fuga.

A medida que nos alejábamos más y más de Sevilla mis problemas iban quedando tan atrás que resultaba difícil recordarlos, al tiempo que eran sustituidos por otros nuevos de diferente tipo conforme nos aproximábamos al horizonte.

El autobús tomaba las curvas con precaución, describiendo un movimiento preciso y grácil, como si fuera el anuncio de un coche en la televisión. Un suave vaivén que me mecía y hacía que entrara en un profundo sueño en el que me transportaba a escenas de mi infancia cuando mi padre aún estaba aquí. En mi cabeza no resonaba ninguna música o mensaje, como en otras ocasiones. Imaginaba mi cuerpo flotando, fuera del autobús, junto a la ventanilla donde me encontraba sentado, observándome a mí mismo contemplando el paisaje durante el recorrido.

Al llegar a Cádiz vinieron a mi mente recuerdos de momentos compartidos con amigos en diferentes rincones de la ciudad. Instantes pasados de mi vida. Carnavales, veranos con Carlos y amigos, viajes familiares.

La luz grisácea del día y el motivo de mi visita durante la situación actual en la que me encontraba, no conseguían despejar las nubes que me acompañaban.

Bajé la avenida intentando localizar el colegio, pues no sabía exactamente donde se ubicaba. Unos minutos antes de la entrevista llegué al centro escolar, donde me encontré con los candidatos que esperaban fuera el edificio a que el conserje abriera las puertas del edificio.

Las campanas de una iglesia cercana anunciaban la hora en punto prevista y el sonido de los cerrojos y los goznes daban  paso a la apertura de la puerta. El conserje comenzó a llamar a los candidatos. Aguardé mi turno pacientemente hasta que pronunciaron mi nombre.

No tenía experiencia previa alguna, solo mis estudios y los cursos realizados y las recomendaciones de antiguos profesores que pertenecían al mismo centro, pero en otra provincia, y que habían accedido a redactarme una carta de recomendación.

La entrevista comenzó con las clásicas preguntas sobre datos personales, estudios, aficiones. En principio parecía que todo discurría sobre ruedas, ya que incluso cuando llegamos a la sección sobre experiencia laboral no pareció importarles mucho que no la tuviera, ya que necesitaban gente nueva que pudieran formar para dotar a la plantilla de más personal.

Cuando me preguntaron qué disponibilidad tenía para incorporarme al puesto me acordé de mis hermanas, de mi madre. Tan solo su imagen me hizo dar una respuesta que seguramente condicionó el proceso de selección. “Mi situación actual es complicada y necesitaría unos días para poder dejar todo preparado en casa”.

El silencio que acompañó a mis últimas palabras permaneció en el aire durante tanto tiempo que alguien atento a la conversación podría haberlas visto saliendo por la ventana del despacho hacia otras tierras lejanas, cruzando el océano.

Recogí de la mesa toda mi documentación y salí por la puerta agradeciéndoles el tiempo que me habían dedicado y sabiendo a ciencia cierta que no me llamarían.

Cuando algunos amigos de mis padres me preguntaron por la entrevista no llegaron a entender mi respuesta y les respondía justificándome diciendo que aún no estaba preparado para dejar mi casa, aún me necesitaban.

Y creo que no me equivoqué, los siguientes meses fueron difíciles, muy complicados. Sentía que necesitaba estar en casa junto a mi familia para ayudar en todo lo que hiciera falta.

No pasó mucho tiempo cuando recibí una nueva llamada para otra entrevista, que finalmente me conduciría a mi primer trabajo. Sabiendo y siendo consciente que ahora estaba preparado y que había dejado atrás cosas que antes me habrían resultado imposible afrontar.

Aún recuerdo los instantes después de la entrevista en Cádiz, de camino a la estación de autobuses, paseando por la playa, recordando a mi padre, imaginándomelo junto a mi, acompañándome ese día, dándome consejos y apoyándome.

Ya montado en el bus contemplaba los colores de la bahía que me transportaban a otros tiempos mejores y más alegres.

Durante unos breves segundos fui feliz.

#viaje a cádiz #sunday morning #writing #love each other #recuerdos #my father mi king #nuestro destino comun #michaelsberg #april #feliz día del libro

[paulinamellado]

Formas de empezar un cuento, vista de la exposición en Instituto Tele Arte, fibra de vidrio, cerámicas, agua, humidificadores de ambiente, plantas, 2022

El manto separa el umbral tras el cual no hay más que contingencia y se desplaza sinuoso, a veces avanzando, otras retrocediendo. Cuando éste le gana terreno al mundo de lo manifestado todo es más ligero, un poco más imposible de lo imposible que es siempre todo.

La inspiración, la confusión y la melancolía son manifestaciones de Neptuno, que empaña la vida para devolvernos al sueño que siempre fue. La brusquedad de la vigilia obliga a los objetos a ser algo duro y diferenciado; tenemos que orientarnos, aunque sea provisionalmente. La niebla, siempre cambiante, disuelve las relaciones lógicas entre los objetos, los devuelve a los dominios de lo no manifestado. Ocultos a la vista de los demás descansan, y cada vez que son reclamados a emerger tienen la oportunidad de ser cualquier cosa (nos ofrecen la oportunidad de ser cualquier cosa).

La vigilia obliga a sostener, el sueño obliga al cambio y la transformación.

Desde este lado no quedan cosas por imaginar. Hemos de esperar a que la niebla avance y lo vuelva a engullir todo para que reaparezca renovado, transformado y libre. Se nos ha restringido la visión a unos pocos metros a nuestro alrededor y ahora el mundo emerge a partir de nuestro movimiento. La espesura es efervescente. Si miras sin poner la atención en nada concreto la percibirás acercándose; se acerca tanto que amenaza la posibilidad de disolución, de perderte tú también junto al resto de cosas que quedan detrás. Sin embargo, nada ocurre; te disuelves suave, imperceptible. La transición es tan agradable que caes en la cuenta de que lo realmente angustioso es mantener la coherencia de ser algo, un cuerpo que anhela ligereza no quiere mantenerse anclado. Desde este lado no quedan cosas por imaginar. Hemos de esperar a que la niebla avance y lo vuelva a engullir todo para que reaparezca renovado, transformado y libre. Se nos ha restringido la visión a unos pocos metros a nuestro alrededor y ahora el mundo emerge a partir de nuestro movimiento. La espesura es efervescente. Si miras sin poner la atención en nada concreto la percibirás acercándose; se acerca tanto que amenaza la posibilidad de disolución, de perderte tú también junto al resto de cosas que quedan detrás. Sin embargo, nada ocurre; te disuelves suave, imperceptible. La transición es tan agradable que caes en la cuenta de que lo realmente angustioso es mantener la coherencia de ser algo, un cuerpo que anhela ligereza no quiere mantenerse anclado. Texto por Raúl Lorenzo

#Vimeo

[idiariodeyass]

Retratera de domingo

Para mi Luka y mi Lorenzo.

Luka es el hijo mayor, por poca diferencia, la suficiente para ser el guía de los juegos y los viajes imaginarios en el patio de la abuela. Desde su primer año despertó una  inusitada curiosidad por los libros y sus páginas llenas de historias. Su pequeño cerebro se fue llenando de personajes y lugares sorprendentes, contados por la amorosa voz de mamá. 

Lorenzo es el menor, el bebé que le dio un destello a nuestra casa con su ternura color oro. Él es el travieso, el que va de recoveco en recoveco descubriendo lo real, lo plausible. Él es quien puede convertir una piedra en un avión imaginario o un trozo de pan recién mordido en un dinousario. 

Luka es el de la sensibilidad y Lorenzo el de la racionalidad, una diferencia heredada de papá y mamá, respectivamente. Luka es el que abre los escenarios lúdicos y Lorenzo quien los deconstruye. Luka es el que va siempre adelante viendo hacia el frente, Lorenzo es el que se queda detrás contemplando los pájaros y las hormigas. Ellos dos viviendo día a día con armonía, como dos estorninos en primavera.

Como un domingo cualquiera, hoy se despertaron de madrugada entre una montaña de almohadas y los brazos seguros de mamá. Con la complicidad construida en el último año, planearon tener una mañana repleta de juegos y carreras. Patearon mil veces la pelota de fútbol, construyeron casas con los legos y dibujaron sus frutas favoritas con sus marcadores favoritos.  

Estaban pintando sus garabatos con las viejas acuarelas cuando de repente Luka de un salto se levantó e interrumpió la coloreada de Lorenzo. Le dijo con su suave voz: “Ya sé. ¿Por qué no andamos en nuestras motocross? (Las bicicletas de equilibrio que mamá les regaló)?”. Lorenzo lo observó con esa mirada de “hermano, eso lo hacemos a diario una y otra vez”. Pero no importó la reacción de Lorenzo. Como todos los días, ambos encontraron una nueva razón para ponerse los cascos y andar.

Ya cansados llegaron al jardín. Dejaron sus “motos” a un lado y se dejaron caer suavemente con una inocente parsimonia.  Y ahí, en la grama, se empezaron a reir a carcajadas, sin percatarse que papá estaba pincelando ese único momento en una fotografía. 

Una imagen que pondrán al centro de sus hogares para recordar ese cómplice amor construido a lo largo de los años. Y en algún lado de las salas de sus casas estarán las retrateras con las fotos de papá mostrando su rostro repleto de felicidad. Y recordarán entonces que siempre estuvo ahí y que les dejó descubrir la vida en las pequeñas cosas. 

[mystrangerhideout]

part 2

Por cierto no me presente ¿ verdad ? bueno eso se arregla ahora mismo. 

Hola, me llamo Lorenzo Martelli. Sí, me di cuenta de que no me había presentado antes. A mis 28 años, a veces siento que el tiempo vuela más rápido de lo que desearía. Vivo en Londres, una ciudad que tiene sus altibajos, y hoy, mientras luchaba contra la tos y trataba de escribir algo coherente, me encontré divagando sobre cómo narrar mi historia.

Parece que a veces me pierdo en mis propios pensamientos. Pero vamos al grano. Retrocedamos un poco en el tiempo, a un día soleado como el de hoy, pero con un aire menos viciado por la contaminación. Recuerdo el aroma fresco de los limoneros en el jardín de mis padres , y cómo el sol acariciaba suavemente mi piel mientras me sentaba bajo su sombra.

Ahí fue donde comenzó todo, ¿sabes? El inicio de un viaje que me ha llevado a donde estoy ahora mismo. Entre recuerdos y toses persistentes, estoy escribiendo mi propia historia, una página a la vez. Espero que la próxima página esté libre de insultos y toses, y quién sabe, tal vez incluso encuentre la inspiración que he estado buscando.

Por supuesto, aquí tienes una versión mejorada y a continuación de tu relato:

Era el 5 de agosto de 18... recuerdo claramente aquel día. No vivía en una ciudad tan imponente como Londres; más bien, habitaba en un apacible pueblo, donde todos se conocían entre sí. La mayoría de los habitantes eran analfabetos y la pobreza era una compañera constante. Sin embargo, nuestro pequeño rincón del mundo era conocido por algo: los extensos campos de limoneros que se extendían por la región.

Estos campos, propiedad de mi padre, un italiano en tierras españolas, eran una fuente de orgullo para nuestra familia. Pero tener tantas tierras como extranjero en aquellos tiempos era algo... complicado, por decirlo de forma suave. La mirada de desaprobación de los lugareños y los comentarios cargados de resentimiento eran moneda corriente. Sin embargo, pese a las críticas, nuestros limoneros eran indispensables para la comunidad.

Las casas, construidas mayoritariamente de madera, dependían en gran medida de la estabilidad económica que proporcionaban los limoneros. Aunque el precio a pagar era alto, ya que los impuestos que nos imponían por el uso del agua eran desmesurados. Nos acusaban de "chupar" demasiada agua, como si nuestras tierras fueran responsables de los problemas del pueblo. Tonterías, por supuesto, pero lidiar con ello era parte de nuestro día a día.

A pesar de las adversidades y las tensiones que enfrentamos, aquel día se presentaba como cualquier otro. Si no contamos con los rumores de que Romeo Martelli ( mi hermano mayor) fue visto pecando con ... .un hombre con plumas . Si un hombre con plumas esa era la demonización de un hombre “enfermo” que deseba ser poseido por Satan ya sabes cuentos de abuelas y abuelos no me afectará si no fuera porque es mi hermano al que lo estan acusando

[denimbex1986]

'There’s a moment in Oppenheimer that seems almost like something out of a superhero movie or an Indiana Jones flick. Standing in his office at Los Alamos, J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) puts on a hat and picks up a pipe, each item lingered on by director Christopher Nolan’s camera. Nolan films these actions from behind like Oppenheimer is assuming his armor as he emerges to lead the Manhattan Project, the WWII effort that will result in the development of the atomic bomb. His shoulders are broad. His silhouette is totemic. “A rock star is born,” costume designer Ellen Mirojnick explains. “There’s an elegance, an empowerment, and a strength about who that man has become as he walks out of his office in the totality of this outfit.”

Oppenheimer the movie is clear that Oppenheimer, the man, is not actually a superhero or a rock star, even if he might at times think of himself as such. Nolan’s film recognizes that its protagonist is both deeply conflicted and the orchestrator of atrocity. At the same time, it also acknowledges that Death, the Destroyer of Worlds, was deeply stylish.

Greta Gerwig’s Barbie has been dominating the movie fashion conversation this summer with its hot pink ensembles, but for menswear enthusiasts Oppenheimer might actually be the sartorial event of the season. Vogue coined Oppenheimercore to note how the boxy tailoring of the physicist has been reflected on runways, while Twitter observers speculated that the film might unleash a new level of “hat guys.”

For fashion writers Tom Fitzgerald and Lorenzo Marquez, also known as Tom and Lorenzo, a Nolan production always means great suits. “Christopher Nolan is a director after our own hearts, because he makes sure his leading men all know the value of a good suit, from Batman Begins to Inception to Tenet,” Fitzgerald writes in an email. “When we think of those films, we can’t help but picture how great the men looked in them.”

The fact that Oppenheimer looks so good is not irrelevant to the plot. Nolan depicts him as a ladies’ man — which he was — and as someone who can convene a cult of personality around him. People are drawn to him not just because of his brilliance but because of his general suaveness. Which is all to say, the striking image of Oppenheimer on screen is very much not incidental, according to Mirojnick. “It’s seductive in a way,” she says. “Because what you feel in the silhouette is that you feel the person. His silhouette embraced the body where it needed to be embraced.”

Oppenheimer’s personal connection to the world of great tailoring is a matter of record. His father, Julius, worked in the world of menswear. According to American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer, the biography on which Oppenheimer is based, Julius has a reputation as “one of the most knowledgeable ‘fabrics’ men in” New York. American Prometheus authors Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin wrote that Julius “dressed to fit the part, always adorned in a white high-collared shirt, a conservative tie, and a dark business suit.”

In her initial research, Mirojnick was struck that over time Oppenheimer maintained a steady style, despite looking at images that spanned from the ’20s through the ’60s. He shifted his dress a little during his time at Los Alamos, she says, to adapt to the environment of the New Mexico desert — he loses the waistcoat, for instance — but that “silhouette” remains the same. (Mirojnick loves designing for a male “silhouette,” a fact she learned designing the costumes for Wall Street in 1987.)

Oppenheimer’s jacket might look a little large on his frame to the modern viewer, which gets skinnier as time passes; his tie might look a little short; his waistband might look a little high; and his hat might look a little big. (The style of the hat has been called “pork pie” but Mirojnick believes it’s a variation on that with a larger brim.) It’s all a bit “voluminous,” a word that Mirojnick uses, but that’s what makes it actually look “fashionable,” she adds.

While some men might scoff at a bigger shoulder for fear of looking like Talking Heads-era David Byrne, a little length in that area actually looks good. “When you extend the shoulders like that you get a much more flattering proportion for the male figure because you’re able to build a kind of V-shaped silhouette for the suit,” says Derek Guy of the blog Die, Workwear! (Guy is probably best known as the Twitter menswear dude.)

Mirojnick notes that she and Nolan weren’t too concerned with making the costumes of Oppenheimer look perfectly period accurate. “We were not one to keep it so strict, that it would take somebody out of the story,” she says. “I had to make it [so] a young audience would be as seduced as an older audience would be.” One key historical inaccuracy: Oppenheimer is one of the only characters to wear a hat. Normally during these eras, everyone would be donning headwear, but Nolan wanted Oppenheimer to stand out among his peers.

It’s hard to tell how much the influence of Oppenheimer’s costuming will trickle down into everyday life; after all, the suit in general has been in decline. (Even Murphy didn’t wear one to every Oppenheimer event.) High fashion might take notice, however. Vogue’s Laia Garcia-Furtado argued: “My guess is the sartorial influence of this movie will be reflected in seasons to come.” Tom and Lorenzo believe that if the cyclical nature of trends accounts for anything, a ’40s revival is on the way.

“With menswear, we went from a very Mad Men-inspired mid-’60s silhouette for men’s suits for the better part of a decade, then lockdown happened and after that we entered a period of funkiness and minor experimentation as the pants flared and a rainbow of color and print options became trendy again,” Fitzgerald explains. “If you go by the theory that fashion repeats itself, then we’re in roughly 1979 or so, which is right about the time that menswear went through a ’40s-inspired trend period.”

So maybe a burst of Oppenheimer-inspired looks are on the horizon — at least when it comes to tailoring. It may even filter into women’s looks given how menswear has been a dominant trend for female celebrities this summer. (Tom and Lorenzo think the hat has taken too much of a beating from its “M’lady” associations to really weather a comeback.)

For Mirojnick, there’s a thematic way in which the film reflects modern society. The horrors of today, after all, are very visible in the horrors of the past. “The world that they inhabit and the time periods that they inhabit are not dissimilar to the time periods we live in today,” she says. “So naturally fashion would imitate fashion or costumes would become fashion.” It’s also, as she said before, very seductive. In the context of the movie, that seduction is tinged with the evil Oppenheimer knows he has wrought. In the context of good clothes, that seduction is just, well, hot.'

#Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Cillian Murphy #Batman Begins #Inception #Tenet #Ellen Mirojnick #American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer #Greta Gerwig #Barbie #Tom Fitzgerald #Lorenzo Marquez

[orianaquintero]

Capilla Cornaro

La Capilla Cornaro es la denominación de una obra de arte total de Gian Lorenzo Bernini característica del Barroco que pretende conseguir la integración de todas las artes en un Bel Composto o una síntesis bella. Fue realizada entre 1647 y 1651, por encargo del cardenal Cornaro.

La capilla pertenece a la familia de Caterina Cornaro, de ahí su nombre, y se encuentra en la iglesia de Santa Maria della Vitoria, Roma.

Para este monumento Bernini soluciono el proyecto de la capilla mediante una gran geometría, tallo un grupo escultural de bulto redondo de 3.50 m de altura compuesto por dos figuras en aspa, esto siendo muy característico del barroco, con el ángel en un nivel superior en vertical dando la impresión de que acaba de posarse allí, y la santa en una posición reclinada, con la articulación del cuerpo de forma zigzagueante.

Bernini dio un distrito tratamiento pulido a los tres elementos que conforman la obra, suave para el ángel, cortante en el habito de la santa, y blanda en las nubes sobre las que flotan. Además, la luz juega un importante papel en la composición, ya que, al incidir de forma cenital sobre los marcadores entrantes y salientes de la superficie de la escultura, se generan fuertes contrastes de luces y sombras, gracias esto la obra tiene un notable dramatismo y le da un carácter pictórico.

En la parte de arriba se encuentra el detalle de los espectadores, se trata de varios miembros de la familia Cornaro, los promotores de la obra. También en los laterales hay más espectadores presenciando la escena.

Referencias

[danielapaez]

Lectura: Varriano .Obra: Capilla Cornaro. Ensayo

Me parece interesante, los cambios que trajo la nueva postura que se toma con este Concilio, en el ámbito de la iconografía religiosa y la idolatría.Gian Lorenzo Bernini es considerado quizás el mayor escultor del siglo XVII y también un arquitecto excepcional. Aunque era una figura importante en el mundo de la arquitectura, era más prominentemente el principal escultor de su época, al que se le atribuye la creación del estilo barroco de la escultura.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini .Muerte de la Beata

¿Qué quiso transmitirnos Bernini con esta obra?

Bertini quiso transmitir de forma emocional, el concepto abstracto del éxtasis para hacerlo entendible por el pueblo, debido a que la obra principal cuenta que un arrebato místico, sintió como un ángel se le aparecía en un sueño y le atravesaba el pecho con una flecha de amor divino que le provocó una sensación de dolor y gozo simultáneo. Siendo esto un tema típico del barroco, tanto por si idea propagandista y visual de las emociones religiosas . También podemos observar en sus dos paredes laterales sendas relieves que representan a miembros de la familia Cornaro(el cual están observando el milagro).

El “Éxtasis de Santa Teresa” por Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1647)

Con toda esta composición consigue transmitir un fuerte dinamismo, movimiento, drama y muestrario de texturas utilizando una luz suave y cenital que busca efectos pictóricos.

Por otra parte rompe con la tradición de las artes utilizando diferentes técnicas (pinturas, iluminación, esculturas…) Con el objetivo de crear más que una obra aislada

Su geometría

Capilla Cornaro por Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1647)

Para este monumento Bernini soluciono el proyecto de la capilla mediante una gran geometría, tallo un grupo escultural de bulto redondo de 3.50 m de altura compuesto por dos figuras en aspa, esto siendo muy característico del barroco, con el ángel en un nivel superior en vertical dando la impresión de que acaba de posarse allí, y la santa en una posición reclinada, con la articulación del cuerpo de forma zigzagueante. Bernini dio un distinto tratamiento pulido a los tres elementos que conforman la obra, suave para el ángel, cortante en el habito de la santa, y blanda en las nubes sobre las que flotan. Además la luz juega un importante papel en la composición

Podemos ver en la lectura que se localiza la magia del proyecto de Bernini: "media los medios más simples y correctos, crea un espacio público festivo cargado de exaltación."

[trinrose3]

I have this image in my head of Lorenzo being a suave gentleman but I know damn well he'd be giving out hand jobs in a tank top and cookie monster pajama bottoms agsgs 😭🤣

HE CAN DO BOTH!!!!

[samuelxtaylor]

“No, I have not heard about it. I expect the Haus to host some sort of event but I did not know the detail of it.” Lorenzo answered before he took a sip of his black coffee, looking out at the grand view of the beach through the Il Vita restaurant’s window wall.

He took a second to ponder. Yes, ponder. Not consider. He has already known his answer. What amused Lorenzo was the fact that he was usually the one who paid to hire Samuel’s time. This was the first time for the staff to be the proactive one and asked for his company.

“I will accept your invitation under three conditions,” Lorenzo leaned back and gave the tall man a side glance. The corner of his lips curled up into a mysterious smile.

“First, you will agree to accompany me to the next Paris Fashion Week. You will be paid for your time, rest assured. Pack only your essential for the journey, we will arrive one week in advance for the fittings.”

“Secondly, you will join me for dinner tonight at the Three Leaves Restaurant. You will go reserve a table at the restaurant straight after this conversation. Do not worry, tell them my name and I am sure they will be able to provide a suitable time.”

“At last…You shall return here after your task. You will take me to your room, where you will strip down to nothing and give me a tour of whatever life you have after your working hours. And what happens between then and dinner time…It will not be part of this negotiation.”

Without a warning, Lorenzo reached out to take Samuel’s hand and gently pulled it toward his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the knuckle before he let it go.

“But I can foresee we both find satisfaction during those hours.”

”I don’t really know all the details surrounding it myself,” the staff member shifted uncomfortably in his seat feeling the weight of his nerves, thankful he was at least sitting down otherwise the client would probably notice the tremble in his legs.  Lorenzo was so far out of his league and yet here he was trying to ask him to the event?  “Just that staff’s supposed to ask clients to accompany them that night,” to what though, even he didn’t know, but irregardless of what the event was as soon as he heard that he was able to invite a client Lorenzo was who came to mind. When he began to hear that his invitation would be accepted he of course perked right up, but seconds later at the idea of having three conditions left him anxiously waiting to hear what three things Lorenzo needed from him.  The first condition, did Samuel actually hear him right?  Paris Fashion Week?!?  He was as far from fashion forward that you could ever get, so how would he be a good person to accompany him?  He tried desperately to hide any emotion through the next two conditions, though of course his cheeks were stained red with a blush as a small fit of boyish laughter escaped, to which he quickly brought his hand to his mouth in hopes to silence himself as he watched with apologetic eyes. The second condition seemed much more doable and he had no qualms in making that happen.  He even knew what he’d wear, considering he only really had a few things you could call dressier clothing, a silent nod as he needn’t say a word to let the other know that it was noted and would be done as soon as Lorenzo was finished. As if he hadn’t damn near broken over the first task, which was still monumentally huge and he would of course tell him he was not suited for that task, as soon as he heard the third he once again couldn’t help but grin like a damn idiot trying to suppress a nervous laughter as he thought of all the pair could do between now and their reservation time (of course in which Samuel would make for as late as possible so there would be more time in the interim),  How in the hell was this man so suave to where he damn near made Samuel spit and sputter with just so much as words spoken? He opened his mouth to speak only to silence it as the other took his hand and kissed it, such a classic gentleman’s move, and Samuel could feel himself swooning for the moment.  He had to collect himself though, “I, uh, wow, um-” what were words and how in the fuck did you string them into sentences again?  “That, wow, um, a lot.”  Sure as hell not like that, the spitting and sputtering handyman needing to collect himself, still grinning like a damn idiot unable to keep from chuckling every now and then like a little school boy.

He took a breath, and then a second one, trying to calm himself down enough to at least function in complete sentences.  “I-” now was not the time to plead his case against Paris, not when he could barely strings words together given just how much his mind was spinning, “I’ll go and do that right now.”  Make reservations, yes, he could do that much, “and then be back.  Thanks so much,” of course he was happier than shit as he stood up and pushed his chair in, still feeling the nerves over all that had just happened as he gave the client a nod before turning to leave and accomplish his first task - reservations.

@lorenzoxzhuge​

#lorenzozhuge

[sunstar-of-the-north]

Happy Valentine’s Day! 

Stay warm, stay safe, and have a great time! Characters (c) Carlos Ramos

#valentines day #valentines day 2021 #otp #otp month #the x's #the x's homebase #homebase #nickelodeon #t.v. show #Fanart #comic #the x's lorenzo suave #lorenzo suave #robot #robot x human #fanon ship #hero x villain #shipping #my art

[graphicpolicy]

The Life and Death of the Brave Captain Suave is Coming Soon from Scout

The Life and Death of the Brave Captain Suave is Coming Soon from Scout #Comics #ComicBooks

Scout Comics has announced The Life and Death of the Brave Captain Suave. The series is a modern-day retelling of Don Quixote, in which a homeless man imagines himself a Golden Age–style superhero and drags a skeptical young drug addict on a series of adventures. Set in Cleveland, the series follows a homeless man who lost his job and then his family, driving him into a vagrant state of…

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#andrea lorenzo molinari #comic books #Comics #joseph sieracki #kelly williams #scout comics #taylor esposito #the life and death of the brave captain suave

[hub-4-hyperfixations]

The Best VILLAINOUS FRIENDSHIPS, part 3

[in western animation]

1. Pinky & the Brain [Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain]

Pinky obviously cares a lot about Brain, viewing him as a true friend. Brain often gets annoyed with Pinky and harms him, but despite this, he does in fact care about him. When Pinky sold his soul to get Brain the world in "A Pinky And The Brain Halloween", Brain rescued him because he missed him and ruling the world was no fun without him. In the Christmas episode, Brain tears up when he finds out that Pinky wrote a letter to Santa asking for Brain to be given more respect.

2. Mister Smarty Smarts & Octocat [Spliced]

Mister Smarty Smarts and his minion Octocat are often annoyed and frustrated by each other, but they're there for each other when it counts, as shown in the ending of "Octocataclysm".

3. HIM & Mojo Jojo [The Powerpuff Girls]

It's easy to see how the villains get along with each other, since Mojo Jojo is Affably Evil, HIM is soft-spoken, and all that. This goes to the point where they're seen discussing Even Evil Has Standards together, being willing to stand together when they think that even villains like themselves had enough, and even opened a Beatles-themed band with each other.

4. Almighty Tallest Red & Almighty Tallest Purple [Invader Zim]

The Almighty Tallest are co-rulers who both function as The Caligula and enjoy every minute of it. They often bicker but seem very close, joking around about ways to hurt Zim and their mutual love of junk food.

5. Drakken & Shego [Kim Possible]

They have a very complicated version of this. Although Shego is technically a mercenary hired by Drakken to act as his Number Two, their relationship is less boss and minion and more Psychopathic Manchild and snarky nanny. Drakken is rather incompetent at everything except creating mad-science gadgets, and relies on Shego for things like opening a pickle jar.

Shego gets annoyed with her boss's idiocy and is prone to snarking at and insulting Drakken despite him being her employer, and isn't afraid to harm him, likely because she knows he needs her and won't fire her. Drakken himself is not above mind controlling Shego or replacing her with another sidekick. Despite all of their hurdles however, they continue to work together, and they have shown care for each other.

The two have saved each other on several occasions, and Drakken has stated that he considers Shego part of his "evil family". Whenever Shego is replaced, she feels jealous. Drakken has shown that he can be a Benevolent Boss at times, even paying for Shegos hotel during her Christmas vacation.

6. Bebop & Rocksteady [Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1987)]

Whenever they are not doing work for the Shredder, they pass the time reading comics, watching cartoons, and playing video games together. They sometimes get along better than the turtles.

7. Wolfgang & Ludwig [Hey Arnold!]

Though they started off as enemies, "New Bully On the Block" ends with Wolfgang and Ludwig becoming friends with each other and bullying the fourth graders together.

8. Glowface & Lorenzo [The X's]

Glowface has a genuine friendship with his butler Lorenzo Suave. At the end of one episode, Glowface apologizes to Lorenzo for mistreating him earlier, and they share a touching moment.

#pinky and the brain #animaniacs #spliced #the powerpuff girls #invader zim #kim possible #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 1987 #hey arnold #the x's #villain friendship

[softtdaisy]

Tom and Lorenzo predict Andrew will look suave and have great hair on Oscar night. We know that’s right 👀

Of course he will have great hair have you seen this man??? But I'm so curious I can't wait for sunday 😭

#andrew garfield #anon ✨ #answered #ali's ramble

[stellarblitz]

Lobolg, God of Chaos

I've talked about him a bit before, but I wanted to make a comprehensive post all about him!!

Lobolg, the Beast

God of Chaos Age: Many, many Millennia

Race: Hob Height: 250 feet Gender: Genderless, he/him Lobolg's true, primal form. He bears a great deal more self-confidence and excitability in this state, far more spontaneous, as his domain would suggest. Born from a falling star colliding with a magic-rich ocean, he was originally feral and mute, but learned to speak, read, write, and understand the world around him by eating the literature that those studying him had in storage. He soon grew to immense size and strength, catching the attention of the gods, who, sensing his power, decided to make him a fellow deity before he decided to stage a mutiny of his own. This massive beast lords over chaos itself; change, randomness, color, music, and bedlam are sure to follow. He speaks in a far more civilized manner than his appearance would suggest, preferring to sit and chat with mortals rather than force their supplication (though he appreciates when he can make them quake with a bit of fear).

He lost his ability to lie after betraying the trust of Kragg, the god of earth, who tore one of his tails off and turned it into a wooden staff. If he parts with it, he is wracked with pain akin to losing a limb, but it is bound by a curse that ensures he always speaks the truth. Because of this, he is a trickster more with his actions than his words.

Lorenzo, the Vagabond

The Wandering Bard

Age: Roughly mid-60's

Race: Half-elf Height: 6'5" Gender: He/Him Lorenzo Scompigli, or the "Old Man" persona, as Lobolg sometimes calls this form. More patient, more observant, perhaps a bit more cunning... though, this is still Lobolg, putting on an act. He wanders the world, performing and recruiting... worshippers? He's loath to call them such, preferring to see himself as a mentor figure, teaching them music or another form of art. He simply craves a bit of mortal interaction from time to time, and many are quick to write off a mad old man, but many are also quick to see the implied wisdom in such a form. He finds it very useful...

Loughran, the Trickster

(Shown here in a hybrid form) The Youthful Outlier

Age: Roughly mid-20s

Race: Half-Elf

Height: 6'2" Gender: He/They

At times, when Lorenzo simply isn't fit for the crowd Lobolg wishes to interact with, he instead chooses Loughran, a more youthful and suave figure. He enjoys this form when he conducts less... scrupulous ventures. Loughran portrays themselves as a self-trained con artist and magic user, able to seduce, manipulate and eliminate those who need to be eliminated. Lobolg himself doesn't enjoy such trickery on innocent sorts... so it's a good thing he's a deity, who can get a read on people's intentions quickly and thoroughly. He enjoys playing games with, irritating, or tricking the truly wicked in this form. They get the job done with elegance and grace that, while Lorenzo may have it, is much easier to be convincing in a younger form. . . .

In the future (as in, probably my next post) I'll be posting a doodle dump of him, so I thought I'd show people what he's like!! Especially the gt/monster lover communities... he's a delight :>

#lobolg #lorenzo #loughran #g/t #gt #monster lover #monster #god of chaos #merlen-gala #merlen gala #merlen #gala #giant monster #chaos #color #bright colors tw #my art #my oc #giant tiny #monsters #ocs #stellarblitz

[misssophiachase]

You Make My Heart Smile

So, happy (belated) birthday, Tina @tnapki Your edits make me smile (pardon the pun) and I wanted to thank you for that and everything you bring to the fandom.

I based it on your GORGEOUS EDIT

I also made it about food cause it’s SO you. On AO3 HERE

Also thanks to the gorgeous Kait @an-awesome-wavve for being amazing and my part brainstorm, part beta, part researcher and part undercover partner in crime. 

Renowned Chef Klaus Mikaelson has a bad reputation until he meets food blogger Caroline Forbes and has no idea how to handle her or the unfamiliar feelings she evokes, especially that annoying ability to make him smile. 

3 May - Alinea - 1723 N. Halsted St, Chicago IL - 3pm

“I’m not going to do some stupid interview, you know I have other, more important things to do, right?”

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t do interviews. He didn’t need to because his accomplishments spoke for themselves. He hadn’t slogged away in kitchens since he was twelve and worked his way through culinary school and some of the best restaurants to waste his time. 

Being a world-renowned chef owning not one, but four, three-Michelin-starred restaurants across the globe meant he could do whatever the hell he wanted. 

But yet here she was running his life. 

Still. 

“Like yell at me? I mean, you’ve been doing that since we were little so I guess it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. ”

“I knew I should have never mixed business and family,” he snapped. “You always throw our childhood back in my face as an excuse to insult my life choices.”

“Because it’s too easy not to,” she pouted, flicking a stray, blonde lock over her shoulder.  “And, while I am unfortunately related to your sorry ass, I am also your publicist and this interview is good for your career.”

“I don’t need publicity.”

“Correction, you do need publicity,” she argued, her fork now attacking the very veal he’d cooked with more fervour than needed. 

“Easy on the product, little sister,” Klaus growled, his protectiveness for his art on full display. 

“Oh, silly me I thought it was already dead,” she shot back, tartly. “And before you interrupted, I was going to say that, yes maybe you shouldn’t need publicity given your career achievements, but that was before you dropped an entree on the food critic’s lap from the Chicago Tribune, fired your sous chef in front of the entire restaurant and insulted Gordon Ramsey on national television.”

“Ramsey is a sell out, I stand by my comments,” he muttered. “The critic had it coming and, now you mention it, so too did that sorry excuse for a sous chef.”

“You realise people call you the angry chef, right?”

“Better than the naked chef I suppose.” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. Klaus wasn’t in the business for gimmicks or to secure his own cooking program. He took his food seriously and there was nothing wrong with that. 

“At least people like Jamie Oliver,” she replied, arching her eyebrows knowingly. “Anyway, there’s no point in arguing because she’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Please tell me you didn’t just schedule an interview without my permission?”

1717 N. Halsted St, 3:10pm

“What’s with the expression of impending doom, Care Bear?” He asked, lugging his camera equipment as they walked up the block toward Alinea. 

“What have I told you about calling me that?”

“Not to do it but it’s too fun not to, Care Bear.” Given his general maturity level, Caroline decided it was a losing battle and she had more important things on her mind. 

“Anyway, it’s not doom,” she muttered. “It’s just the overwhelming desire not to do this interview but given I don’t want to get fired and also pay my rent, there’s no other option.”

“Is someone afraid of the angry chef?”

“Oh, puh-lease, I’m not afraid. Although, I might not be able to bite my tongue if he decides to insult me like he did Gordon Ramsey.”

Caroline wasn’t one to judge but his indiscretions were well-known and well-documented. Although, chefs with egos weren’t an entirely new phenomenon to the industry or to Caroline given interviewing them was her job.

“You and I both know Ramsey deserved that dressing down, if anything Mikaelson earned my respect that day.” Caroline couldn’t argue with that. 

Although this one was another kind of beast. 

The effortlessly attractive kind. 

For Caroline, this was an unsettling prospect. Until she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. 

Caroline loved food. Sometimes, she thought, more than life itself. 

So, when she became a food blogger after graduating with a journalism degree from Northwestern, it wasn’t a surprise. She was currently the senior blogger at popular food blog Delicious. 

“You love food and writing about it,” Was Enzo reading her mind? “How about instead of focusing on the negative, remember that this will be your biggest interview yet. Think about all of the exposure this will garner.”

The upper echelons of Delicious had decided that an interview with Klaus Mikaelson would be a big scoop. Caroline was all for interviewing chefs about their food and the passion behind it but she knew her editor wanted something less about his craft and more about his bad boy reputation.  

“Yes, but I want to write about food, not produce tabloid fodder.”

“Just think, once you do this then maybe you’ll have enough of a following to start your own blog and write what you want and not what someone tells you to do.”

“Mmmm, you do have a point.”

“Of course I do because Enzo knows everything. Also, take me with you because you’d be lost without me, sweetcheeks.”

“Third person, huh? That ego of yours knows no bounds, Lorenzo.”

“You know it, Care Bear,” he joked, flashing his most dazzling smile. “Well, looks like we’re here.”

“Looks like it,” she murmured, noting the intimidating sign overhead and wondering what she’d gotten herself into. “Here goes nothing.”

3:15pm

“Caroline Forbes?” 

“You must be Rebekah and this is my photographer Lorenzo St John.”

Klaus, who’d been throwing a temper tantrum not one minute ago, found himself looking up into the blue eyes of one Caroline Forbes. Suddenly, all of the white noise of the moment fell away and it was just the two of them in the room together and the blonde in question was looking at him expectantly. 

It was paralysing. 

But good paralysing he decided. 

“Nik?” Rebekah questioned. Now they were both looking at him. Had he zoned out and not realised it?  Well, if so, this was all kinds of embarrassing. “Caroline is the senior blogger for Delicious and she’s here for that interview, you know the one we talked about earlier?”

Yeah, ten minutes earlier, he thought to himself doing everything he could not to bite back in front of the new arrival.   

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Mikaelson, I have to say I’m a big fan of your…”  

“Look, it’s not going to be possible, I have to prep for dinner service,” he lied, although regretted it immediately when he noticed her expression. Klaus wasn’t used to being nice, it wasn’t in his DNA and usually it didn’t bother him. 

Until now. 

Klaus decided to blame it on the foreign feelings she was causing. As soon as he got some distance between them it would be fine, especially that vanilla scent he couldn’t ignore given it was infiltrating his first line of defence.

Klaus liked women, in fact he slept with many when his busy schedule permitted, but that was sex and nothing else. Just the way he liked it, easy and unemotional. 

“Why don’t we multitask then? I’m happy to help. ” Her voice was light and melodic. Klaus was hoping it wasn’t going to sound so enticing. He also wasn’t expecting that response. “I worked in a restaurant kitchen for years, I can do dishes, polish cutlery and peel a mean potato and an onion, well almost without crying.”

Why was he buoyed by that ridiculous statement and increasingly trying not to flash her a goofy smile? 

Klaus didn’t smile. He just didn’t. Ever. 

This wasn’t how he saw his day going at all. He was going to kill Rebekah. Before he could reply, the current subject of his ire spoke. 

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” she grinned. “How about Lorenzo and I make ourselves scarce then?” 

“It’s actually Enzo, darling, you sound a bit too much like my mother and my oppressive boss Care Bear here.” 

Klaus hadn’t even realised there was someone else in the room up until this point but it was clear Caroline wasn’t too impressed by his nickname or the oppressive part. Maybe they had more in common than he thought? 

Care Bear.  Klaus thought it was adorable. Then he could feel it, that idiotic urge to smile again. 

Before he could object again, Rebekah had made a quick exit with the photographer and she was just standing there. Klaus could feel the awkward tension between them and knowing he’d caused it wasn’t helping matters. But he didn’t know any other way to act. 

Then the words he’d struggled with just tumbled out. 

“How do you feel about fish?”

Not the most suave topic or question but this was his ‘uncomfort’ zone. 

“Depends on the context.”

“The context?”

“I mean, if you think I can clean, fillet and debone a fish, you’ve obviously overestimated my cooking talents.”

Klaus had to practically eat the smile that was threatening to appear.  Again. 

“Everyone has to start somewhere and get their hands a bit dirty, otherwise what’s the point?” He advised. “But, if you don’t want to then…”

“Oh, I never back away from a challenge, chef,” she promised. 

Again, the pesky smile was hovering just beneath the surface. 

Leading her towards the kitchen, Klaus told himself that preparing a fish was definitely going to keep his emotions at bay and also block out that perfume which was throwing him off balance. 

4:45pm

“Why do I feel like this was a ploy to distract me from my interview?” Caroline asked, dipping the fish into egg wash and then flour as instructed by her cooking mentor for the day.. 

This was not how she saw her day going. It was surreal to say the least. This guy was supposed to be an ogre but Caroline was realising he was something else entirely. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shot back. “But you filleted that fish like a professional, maybe you’ve missed your true calling?”

“I suppose I had a semi-good teacher,” she admitted wryly. 

“Wow, tell me what you really think, Forbes.”

Caroline was trying not to to get too caught up in the moment but Klaus Mikaelson had challenged every judgment she’d ever harboured about the temperamental chef.  He’d been unusually kind and patient.

The one thing she’d noticed was that his overall demeanour didn’t match his expression. 

He didn’t smile.

Not once. 

A few times, Caroline could swear it was close or maybe she was just imagining it?

“So, why do you like food?” It was a question she wasn’t expecting. Especially seeing as she was the interviewer and him her subject. 

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be asking you?” He was silent for a moment, almost like he was contemplating it. “But I get the impression you don’t like that question much?”

“I’d much prefer to hear your story first, call it a warm-up.” Clearly he was nervous and Caroline was happy to oblige if it helped. 

“My grandmother,” she smiled knowingly, visions of her nana filling her head. “When I was younger I’d go to her house most weekends and we’d cook together. She could make anything and everything. She died last year and it’s been tough without her but at least I still have those memories.”

Caroline didn’t mean to get personal, especially with the so-called “angry chef” but for some reason she felt nothing but comfort in his presence, even if he didn’t smile. 

“What was her specialty?” 

“Banana cream cheesecake,” she smiled, the taste of it rushing back in all its delicious glory. 

“Hard to beat,” he murmured. “Have you ever eaten a Bananas Foster? My restaurant in New Orleans does a modern version over flame.  According to my maitre’d there’ve apparently been a few proposals over dessert.”

“Over your dessert?”

“Someone sounds dubious. Let’s just say it’s fireworks but without the danger. Well, unless the tablecloth is accidentally set on fire but the fire department down there are pretty good first responders I understand.”

“I just didn’t take you for the romantic dessert type.”

“I suppose there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me then.”

“So, why do you like food then?”

“Well, of course I like food, I wouldn’t be a chef otherwise,” he shared, moving swiftly in behind her and taking the fillets from her hand and placing them in the hot pan, Caroline was trying not to react to his touch or that welcoming and heady mixture of sandalwood, spices and soap . “But one interview isn’t going to even begin to answer that question.” 

He had a point and Caroline knew it. How could you sum up what food meant to you in one interview?  

“So, what exactly are you trying to say? I do have a deadline to meet.”

“How about we schedule a follow-up interview tomorrow morning? Dinner service is imminent and if you stay I’m going to have to ask you to do more than fillet a fish. My pastry chef Lucien is also very needy, requires constant gratification, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of that.”

“Not gonna lie I’m intrigued and by that I’m talking about Lucien. Did you insult his choux pastry or something?”

 “Not if I want my patrons to eat dessert this century. But, if you insist on staying, there’s a whole pile of onions there with your name on it and we can call it even.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He raised his left eyebrow by way of response. Caroline was trying to ignore just how good he looked, even if there was no smile forthcoming. 

“Fine,” she conceded. “Tomorrow morning but that’s it otherwise my editor might fire me.”

“Great, let’s make it 10:30, you can poach an egg, right? And I also expect extra crispy bacon.”

Caroline knew she was possibly in trouble and not because he was tasking her with cooking. Enzo would also parrot that particular concern but she couldn’t help herself. 

Today was probably the best day she’d had in a long time and she didn’t want it to end. She told herself that she’d return tomorrow and get her interview, that’s all she wanted from him, right?

4 May - Alinea - 1723 N. Halsted St, Chicago IL - 11am

Klaus Mikaelson was in uncharted territory. 

That’s what scared him the most. 

Caroline Forbes was seated across from him at his best, window table in jeans and a cream sweater, her plate empty and a very full but satisfied look on her face. Klaus decided to add that to his favourite expressions file. It was fast filling up and he’d only known her for 20 hours. 

He wasn’t this guy. 

At all. 

But she’d consumed his thoughts since their first meeting and all night through dinner service and beyond. He’d barely slept, but it wasn’t a bad thing. He’d been looking forward to seeing her as soon as she left. 

The only problem? Not smiling because it was that difficult when she was in his presence. He had his reasons of course. 

“So, why do you love food? And no arguments given I poached a mean egg and also let you have a reprieve yesterday.”

“The bacon could use some work, just saying.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to cook itself yourself, Mikaelson. Are you always such a critic? Last time I checked that was my job. Also enough with the distractions. So?”

“My mum,” he admitted quietly, even if it took a minute or so to verbalise. For some reason her opening up about her grandmother had filled him with courage. He didn’t do feelings or talk about them for that matter. “She cooked with me practically from birth until she got too sick last year.” 

Those last words wobbled, it was unfortunate as it was expected. He’d struggled for a long time and losing his mother had been difficult.  

“What was her specialty?” Klaus recognised the question he’d asked himself yesterday, but the fact her hand squeezed his at the same time filled him with the confidence and warmth he needed. 

“Rosemary braised lamb shanks, it was her favourite protein. I’ve tried to pay homage on all my menus since.”

‘So, that explains the Saddle of Elysian Fields Farm Lamb with Babaganoush, Romano Beans and Harissa Jus on your menu then?”

“You’ve done your homework clearly?” 

“That and the fact it’s the first time I’ve seen you smile, and I have to say it’s really nice.” 

Klaus didn’t even realise he’d let it slip but suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t want to hide it, not with her. 

“She used to tell me to smile all the time because I was too serious, you could say it’s something I’ve battled with ever since she passed.”

“All the more reason to smile, even just to introduce those dimples to the general public. Has anyone ever told you they should come with a warning?”

“No, but more than happy to discuss further.”

“If only, but I have to get going.” Klaus felt almost deflated that she was leaving as quickly as she’d arrived. Maybe he’d shared too much. “Deadlines and all that. But if you could just consult the email I sent confirming the details of our interview that would be great.”

Klaus felt disillusioned, he’d opened himself up to someone and she was running away.  She was out the door before he could even move from his seat. Checking his emails was the last thing he felt like doing, but his hand went to work on his cell checking it anyway and dreadfully waiting for its contents.

“As of three minutes ago, I no longer working for Delicious. It wanted a story I wasn’t prepared to write. I like your smile and dimples too much and I also want a Bananas Foster.”

His chest constricted as he read each word and his grin was unmistakable.  It didn’t take long for him to reply.

“You make my heart smile.”

Tabloids would report months later that famed food blogger Caroline Forbes married famed chef Klaus Mikaelson in rural England after proposing over a dessert of Bananas Foster in New Orleans. 

#you make my heart smile #happy birthday #tnapki #klaroline fanfiction #misssophiachase