#after dinner speaker agency

[afterdinner-speakers]

The Value Of Diversity & Inclusion To Your Organisation

Diversity and inclusion are top-of-mind in today's ever-changing corporate world. Companies across the globe are starting to understand the significance of having a diverse and inclusive workplace. Inviting diversity and inclusion speakers to corporate events is one of the best ways to augment these values. These Speakers present refreshing insights, they face traditional beliefs, and they encourage to be good. Hiring a diversity and inclusion speaker will help your organisation greatly. These experts narrate stories which are extremely touching, help in giving some pro-tips and helps to make a difference within the workplace. In other words, their viewpoint can pave the way for a more harmonious and efficient workplace which in turn can contribute positively to business success.

So how are you suppose to find and book the proper keynote speaker? Well, this is when the event speaker agency come to play. They specialise in organising event speakers, including as well as diversity and inclusion focused speakers for organisations. They have a wide range of contacts with the ability to assess skilled professionals in order to provide support. Using an agency makes the booking process easier and ensures you encounter the right speaker to match your event's objectives and values. This starts with defining the requirements of your organisation. Do you want solutions to unconscious bias, cultural competency and inclusive leadership? Having distinct goals allows the agency to pair you with a speaker accordingly. Once your needs have been substantiated, the agency will serve you a list of potential candidates. This usually involves in-depth profiles, reels of previous events, and testimonials from past customers This kind of information is vital for making an educated decision.

Once you choose an after dinner speaker, the agency takes care of the coordination tasks like checking availability, business negotiations, and travel. This type of support means you get time to do other things event-wise. Agencies also have back-up plans for any last minute dilemmas, alleviating stress. If you hire a speaker on diversity and inclusion through an agency, the key is to make sure your event theme and audience profile is handed over to the agency. Giving some general background of your company culture and the challenges your company faced will enable the speaker to cater their message to your company. That way your message will comes across better to the audience, leading to a more powerful event for everyone involved. Using this type of event speaker provider also allows for some follow-up and feedback.

After the event, the agency will typically ask for feedback on how well the speaker did and on how the overall event went. This feedback loop is essential for the improvement process, and guarantees that the future involvement will be more successful. As much as in live events, most of diversity and the inclusion speakers provide virtual sessions, workshops, and consulting services. With this flexibility, we can provide ongoing staff training and support after the event so that these values become part of your organisational culture.

Overall, hiring a diversity and inclusion speaker via a motivational speaker agency is a smart choice. This not only makes the event logistics easier and faster but helps maximise the event impact as well. These agencies can help connect you with speakers who are likely to inspire, educate and effect real change in your organisation.

[onsitecarservicing-blog]

Building a More Equitable and Sustainable Future: Why Environmental Justice Matters

Have you ever noticed how a factory spewing smoke always appears to be near to a neighbourhood that is lower class, or how coastal villages who are not resourceful enough to adapt to rising sea levels are threatened? In actuality, marginalised populations are frequently the ones most severely impacted by environmental challenges. In order to create a future that is really sustainable, the idea of environmental justice becomes important in this situation.

Ensuring equitable treatment and meaningful participation for all individuals, irrespective of their colour, class, ethnicity, or nationality, in the formulation, execution, and upholding of environmental laws, regulations, and policies is the essence of environmental justice. The goal is to lessen the burden of environmental degradation and guarantee that everyone lives in a healthy environment.

Consider this: is a world in which we have addressed climate change but whole populations have been uprooted because of increasing sea levels really sustainable? It is crucial that a variety of viewpoints steer the discussion on environmental solutions because of this. Environmental speakers are important because we should pay attention to the people who are most impacted by environmental concerns.

You may now be thinking of the traditional after dinner speaker agency or motivational speakers in London that are hired for corporate functions. Speakers in environments differ. These individuals are fervent supporters who strive to increase public knowledge of environmental justice concerns and motivate action towards remedies that are advantageous to the environment and society at large.

Scientists, activists, and community leaders are among them, and they all bring different perspectives to the table.

Imagine hearing from a young leader from the indigenous community about the terrible consequences of oil drilling on their ancestral grounds. Or a low-income neighbourhood community organiser advocating for healthier air. Because they are rooted in the actual experience of environmental injustice, these voices have great force. They push us to address the human cost of sustainability in addition to its technical components.

We learn more about the struggles marginalised groups experience and how environmental policies may sometimes make already-existing disparities worse by listening to these speakers. This motivates us to take action, such as endorsing causes run by the most affected parties, pushing laws that advance environmental justice, or even altering our own purchasing patterns.

It goes beyond simply checking a box or feeling good. In order to create a future where social justice and environmental conservation go hand in hand, we all have a part to play.

To learn more, there are a plethora of materials accessible, including movies that give voice to these communities, websites devoted to environmental justice problems, and even future events where these motivational speakers will be present. The secret is to keep yourself informed, become active, and speak out in favour of change.

Recall that a sustainable future encompasses more than just verdant areas and pure air. The goal is to guarantee everyone has access to a healthy environment, which necessitates tackling the underlying causes of environmental injustice. Together, let's create a future in which social justice and sustainability are two sides of the same coin.

[searchladder]

How to Integrate Sports After-Dinner Speakers into Your Charity Gala and Maximise Success with an Event Speaker Agency

Integrating sports after dinner speakers into a charity gala evening can raise the event to heights of both fun and audience engagement. Inspiring stories told by larger-than-life characters will ignite the atmosphere and make your charity gala one to remember-a very successful fundraising evening. Here are some steps and tips for incorporating such speakers, how to deal with an event speaker agency, and have a smooth experience.

Choose the Correct Speaker for Your Audience The outcome of your event will come from selecting sports after dinner speakers who will appeal to your audience. First, you need to understand the type of attendees that will be at the event. Are they business executives from your city, philanthropists, or sports enthusiasts? The speaker that you book should relate to the audience's interests. For example, if your guests enjoy playing golf, it would be ideal to book a famous golf player. If your audience is more general, then a speaker with cross-sport appeal or a well-renowned commentator would be in order; the evening would be far more interactive and interesting to the customers.

Match the Speaker to Your Charity's Cause The message of the speaker should be aligned with the mission of the charity. Therefore, if your charity helps poor children, then a sports personality that has overcome personal adversity would be an excellent fit. They will be able to inspire donors by drawing parallels between their struggles and the charity's cause. Emotional storytelling is crucial to drive home the importance of giving; this could impact strongly on your fundraising goals.

The improvement of the event flow with the participation of the speaker The goal is to maximize the return from the speaker's impact-place them thoughtfully throughout the course of the evening. The speaker can be used to start the evening off with an inspirational talk, or to end the night with a rousing speech that ties together the themes of the gala. They could emcee the live auction or be part of interactive Q&A sessions, allowing attendees the opportunity for personal engagement with them. These are often more intimate moments and tend to further spur donations.

Hiring an Agency for Event Speakers Hiring the services of a professional event speaker agency can relieve much of the burden associated with finding suitable talent. The agencies represent various sports speakers and are prepared to recommend a speaker that will best match your particular needs, budget, and audience preferences for your event.

Here's how an event speaker agency can help:

Agency Briefing: Agencies will brief the speaker with whatever background information may be helpful to him about the event, the charity, and who is in the audience. This will make certain that his message is complementary to the objectives of the evening.

Contingency Planning: With Agencies, you will often find back-up plans should there be last-minute changes, such as a backup speaker or alternative arrangements that ensure your event does not have glitches.

Conclusion Bringing the sports after-dinner speaker into your charity gala will make for a pretty powerful evening. Since the closeness of any event speaker agency is already there, it will be effortless to simplify the whole process of organising and have the perfect alignment of your speaker with your cause and your audience. The right speaker will inspire generosity, drive engagement, and support the success of your charity event.

[urhoneycombwitch]

frozen like an angel

Eddie Munson x shy!Reader holiday edition.

foreword: ohhhh I’ve missed them!!! and you all!!!! happy holidays to those who celebrate, and for those who don’t, have a cozy winter fic <3 here is the masterlist for shy!reader, some references may be made to previous fics in the series but no beforehand reading required here. 

cw: Christmas activities, bittersweet fluff, Elizabeth Munson memories, mentions of Reader’s familial backstory (intentionally a bit vague, hoping to expand in future fics!)

wc: 2.8k

___

You’re not even trying to snoop- the paper flutters to the carpet all on its own, freed from the stack of Eddie’s notebooks you’d lifted to dust under. 

Expecting it to be something D&D related, you scoop it from the carpet with the intent to slip it back between the leaves of a random book- when the title catches your eye. In neat, looping black ink across the top: Christmas Apple Cake. 

There’s a pencil-drawn sketch of an apple in the top corner, faded and yellowed with time like the paper it’s on; your thumb runs over it as you scan the ingredients. 

This’ll be perfect, actually- Wayne is coming over tonight for holiday drinks with you and Eddie, a Munson family tradition that’s included you the last six or so years, and you haven’t sorted dessert yet.

The recipe is simple- a hearty, apple-filled spiced cake base, brown sugar glaze to pool on top. After hunting through the kitchen cupboards (sometimes it’s glaringly apparent you live in a former bachelor pad- the baking soda sourced from under the sink and a layer of dust), you get to work baking.

A pound of apples is peeled and diced, meticulously, to the tune of a Bing Crosby record- Eddie bemoans the cheesier aspects of holiday music, so you get your fill while he’s at work (though you’ve caught him humming along to White Christmas on more than one occasion). 

Not that either of you need the money after the generous nest-egg from various government agency pay-offs, but the part-time mechanic schedule has been good for Eddie. Wayne’s pretty much set to take over when the garage owner retires next year, and Eddie is happy to help- keeps his mind and hands busy, sorely needed after so much recovery downtime. 

And you’ve been busy, too- the apples are set to soak in cold water while you prep the batter, thinking of post-winter break classes already. You passed your first end-of-term exams with flying colors, like Eddie knew you would- never mind that they were all 101s, and that your college plans seem a little directionless- at least you’re moving. Able to do something other than waiting to get better.

Eddie’s proud of you, deeply so. That’s really all that matters for now. 

With the batter mixed, you lift handfuls of apple chunks from the water to dry on the rows of flat kitchen towels. There’s a burst of static from the living room speakers; you flick water from your hands and cross swiftly to flip the record to its B-side.

Let It Snow! rings out cheerily while you stir the apples bit by bit into the batter, Deck the Halls by the time you’re pouring the mixture into a greased baking tin. After twisting the counter timer to tick down for an hour, you clean the kitchen in good spirits.

Eddie will be home, soon- Wayne’s closing up shop, which gives his nephew plenty of time to beat him home and cook you all dinner. There’s a tender strip of beef marinating in the fridge with something Eddie referred to yesterday, ominously, as “Grinch Juice”. (The pale green of the sauce is likely due to the rosemary. You think.)

Eddie’s got the meal covered, regardless. (Plus there are always frozen pizzas to fall back on.)

The air swells with warmth from the oven, taking on a sugared, nutmeg and applesauce smell; the little window over the sink fogs over with sweet steam, making the white-snow world outside look even dreamier. Lights twinkle from the front banister, winking at the strip of sister lights across the path at the Mayfield’s door.

Plucking behind your back to loose your apron strings, you realize- for the first time in years, it feels like Christmas. Last year, you were all still learning how to be human, still nursing wounds (both external and in), stepping cautiously onto the thin ice of what it means to survive and be alive.

This year, though? You’re out in the middle of the frozen pond of life making snow angels. Ice skating over the bumps. Twirling around hand-in-hand with Eddie as you both figure it out, together.

Later, the front door creaks open then slams shut, a rhythmic thump of boots shedding snow onto the hall mat. From your vantage point on the couch- sock feet tucked underneath your body to keep warm, dog-eared Tolkien in your lap- you see Eddie before he sees you.

His back is turned as he toes off his work boots, hunched against the cold still in a hand-me-down winter coat of Wayne’s. Stray curls escape the half-up bun of his dark hair, twisting around his face, which lights up with a smile when he sees you.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie says, adopting a faux-serious, low tone as he hangs up his coat and shakes the snow from his hair. “Looks like we got an escapee from Santa’s Workshop.”

You snort, setting the book aside to roll your eyes fondly- if a red flannel shirt and jeans spells elf, you’re willing to play the part. 

Eddie approaches with menacing intent, grin so wide the corner of his lip meets the line of scarring at his cheek. 

He’s still in his work coveralls, pinstriped and oil-stained; Eddie leans his weight into his hands on either side of your head, close enough to bump noses, couch emitting a squeak of protest. 

You flick at the embroidered patch over Eddie’s heart, the one that currently reads JERRY. “Someone’s been naughty today.”

Eddie clicks his tongue, dark brows pulling together in his best approximation of someone who is very sorry. “Yeah. Guess so. You gonna tell the Big Boss on me?”

”Wouldn’t dream of it,” you sigh, tired of playing, ready to loop your arms around Eddie’s neck and kiss him silly (an action he’s more than willing to give in to).

He tastes like sharp mint, and faintly of the cigarette he probably had on break; Eddie mumbles something between kisses and you pull back just enough to hear him say, “You taste sweet.”

“Mmhm. Had to make sure the batter wasn’t poisoned,” you reply, more concerned with dotting kisses along the line of scar that disappears behind his jaw. 

Against your temple, Eddie’s lashes flutter in surprise- “You baked something?”

Pulling away fully now (with one last parting kiss to his forehead), you narrow your eyes as you shift to hold his shoulders at arm’s length- “Does me baking come as a shock to you?”

“No!” Eddie says, quickly, brows lowering from where they’d shot up just a second ago. “No, of course not. You just don’t usually… I mean, I like being the one in the kitchen.”

”I know you do.” Your hands trail to cup his elbows, briefly, before you disentangle yourself to check on the oven. The timer is just about to shriek its warning chorus- with a twist of your hand, it dings pleasantly instead. “I wanted to make something special for our Christmas dessert tonight. Hopefully it’s not actually poisoned.” 

Based on the delicious smell that wafts from the oven, you’ve got nothing to fear- the tines of your testing fork come out from the middle of the cake clean, a pair of mitts snagged to pull it out and set on the stove.

Clouds of steam rise from the fresh pastry, spiced and golden under the overhead lights- it smells like Christmas in a pan. Eddie approaches to watch over your shoulder, his hand steady on your low back as you explain the glaze that needs to be made next- he takes a lungful of fragrant air, and then his hand stills.

Eddie isn’t in the habit of interrupting you, so it’s strange when he does, voice sounding strained as he stumbles through the start of a few different sentences. “How did you- this is- that’s apple cake. My mom’s apple cake. What…”

It must be the smell, transporting him back, and for a moment, your heart sinks. Eddie hasn’t had a flashback in so long; the last one was months ago over the summer when a car backfired and sent his mind spiraling for hours after. 

You turn in his arms, speaking carefully, ready to soothe- “Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, honestly, the recipe just fell out when I was moving your things, and I-”

Eddie’s eyes are brimming with tears when he interrupts you again- this time, to kiss you; there’s a slip of his tear that tracks down your own cheek as you kiss him back. 

He’s holding you, now, mirroring you from earlier, thumbs squeezing at the inside of your elbows, forehead resting in a slow roll against yours as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I didn’t know… I didn’t think any recipes of hers survived the move from Tennessee.”

“It was in one of your old journals,” you murmur, reaching to wipe the wet track of tears from his face even as he moves to do the same for you. “Did your mom used to make this for you?”

“Yeah.” Eddie laughs, wetly, kisses the palm of your hand where it rests against his face. “Every Christmas until I was five or so. Got the recipe from her mom, some Appalachian tradition. Wayne would know better than me.”

Eddie’s looking at the cake again, a familiar hazed-over stare that makes your heart hurt in sympathy, memories flooding back in at an overwhelming degree. You’re quiet for a few moments, pressing your face into the side of Eddie’s coveralls, letting him find his footing before asking, quietly- “Wanna help me make the topping?”

In another life, you and Eddie would run a mean kitchen together- years of learning the distinct ways in which the other moves comes in handy when you need to share cooking duties. 

He ducks under your arm effortlessly to grab vanilla while you whisk the sugars and butter, adds splashes and dashes of things to your bowl periodically until the mulled glaze is formed. 

The top of his (Jerry’s) coveralls were shoved down earlier, your help enlisted to tie the long sleeves around his waist in a makeshift apron; good thing your boy runs hot- means he’s comfortable enough to cook in a white cutoff undershirt that’s thin as a napkin. Underneath, Eddie’s all alabaster, lean muscle, black ink tattoos dancing with the corded ripples of scar tissue as he flits around the kitchen.

Between getting the steak ready to sear, and tasking you with prepping the hill of potatoes, Eddie talks about his mother- holidays of years past floating to the forefront on a wave of recollected smell. 

Along with Tennessee apple cake, Elizabeth Munson would wrap chestnuts in tin foil to roast low and slow in the embers of a Christmas fire. One year, she penny-pinched enough to buy part of the neighbor’s turkey for her and then-five-year-old Eddie.

You soak up all these memories, asking questions periodically, immersed in Eddie’s storytelling. It’s rare to hear Elizabeth’s name, and you wonder, suddenly, if that could be changed.

“You know, I really like hearing about her,” you tell Eddie gently, after a gleeful retelling of the time she crashed his sled into the big stump of maple at the edge of their woods. You give the chopped potatoes on your cutting board a push, and they tumble into Eddie’s proffered bowl. “If there’s something I can do, to help… I dunno, make it easier to bring her up- you’d let me know. Right?” 

Eddie considers this as he gathers jars from the narrow spice cupboard, lining them up in a neat row. “Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart. And it’s not… you’re easy to talk to. It’s just hard, sometimes, to learn how to remember her.”

You nod, thoughtful, watching him layer spices and olive oil into the bowl; he uses a wooden spoon to make sure all the potato sides are coated before saying, “And sometimes, it feels downright braggy. I got six whole years with her- most all of ‘em good ones- it’s not something I take for granted. And your mother-”

Eddie cuts himself off, abruptly, knuckles glistening with oil as they tighten into fists. Something inside you wilts, stretches desperately for its light source; you budge up under Eddie’s arm, place a hand to the middle of his chest where his breaths meet you with a shuddery kickstart.

“I know. But you were a kid too, Eddie. Six is just a kid.”

He does his best to hug you back with one arm as your nose seeks the notch behind his ear, a perfect fit, enveloping your senses as you breathe in the spot that smells most like him. “You can share however much or however little you want, of her, with me. Just ‘cuz my parents sucked doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about your one good one. Let me live vicariously, okay?”

You give Eddie a teasing little shake, a flash of teeth against his neck that has him chuckling, shaking off the anger before either of you can be derailed. The potatoes are moved to a baking sheet while Eddie preps the meat, and you send a river of brown sugar glaze over top the cake so it has time to cool.

If Wayne notes the missing piece from the corner of the dessert, later, he doesn’t mention it- the whiskey he’d brought over pairs perfectly with the rich, spiced cake. 

One bite in and Wayne’s head turns, slow, to his nephew sat beside him. Without looking up from his spoonful of melting ice cream, Eddie nods. “Yup. Mom’s cake. Don’t look at me, though.”

Wayne blinks down at the bowl in front of him, then to you, like someone’s woken him from the middle of a dream. “Tastes just like how she used to make it.”

Were it possible to bottle and live off someone’s praise, you’d like to find a way; instead, you tuck the compliment away for a rainy day and give him a warm smile. “I’m glad. I’ll make it next year, too, if you want.”

After dinner (totally delicious despite Eddie’s best attempt to scare you both off with increasingly weird holiday-themed adjectives), Eddie pulls out his acoustic guitar to try his new capo, a gift from Uncle Wayne that’s immediately put to good use.

This autumn, on the same week you went to college for the first time, Eddie taught himself how to play guitar again. A year on from the attacks, his left hand was still stiff, a deep scar across the bridge of his abductor that made more dexterous movement near-impossible.

But your boy, smart and strong and determined, found a way. Eddie surprised you over Thanksgiving break with a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s Hypnotized, though with multiple false starts since both of you cried most of the way through it.

Less tears, this time around, but no less emotional- you steal glances under the pretense of wiping down the table as Eddie sits wide on the couch, black guitar propped on his knees while he adjusts the capo. 

In a nearby armchair, Wayne takes a sip from his whiskey glass- at the first few notes of Edelweiss, his eyes slip closed, lost in memory.

“This was one of her favorites,” Eddie says to you, grinning while his fingers pluck the pattern smoothly.

You lean a hip against the table, wiping abandoned, taking in the gentle movement of Eddie’s hair, his arms, while he plays. He gets so lost in the music, sometimes- a soft look that usually only shows when he’s sleeping peacefully. 

You wonder if Elizabeth looked the same, all those years ago- bent over her special Christmas cake, sneaking tastes on the back of a spoon to the set of dimpled hands that reached for her apron. 

In your back pocket, the recipe card in her handwriting is tucked safely away. While Eddie plays, your fingers brush the outline of the pencil-etched apple, sending a prayer or a wish of some sort to the snow angel in your head.

He’s doing great. He’s so loved and cared for, with me. I hope you know I’m taking care of him. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the cake. 

___

for more shy!Reader content: masterlist

[lightseoul]

im surprised no one asked for this yet but please do no. 17 for the 2k milestone 💌 your works are amazing!!!! 🥰🫂

hello, elle! this ask gets a fast pass because SAME i was just waiting for someone to request this number, so thank you!!! and i just want to quickly thank you as well for all the love you've shown my works, i see and appreciate you sm <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

17. "DID YOU BUY ME FLOWERS?" (1.3k)

ping.

you startle ever so minutely at the chime that just reverberated across your car, briefly interrupting that one song that’s been on repeat for the last few days. as your speakers resume playing the familiar melody, you glance at the phone held in place by your handy mount, and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see the notification.

(6:54 PM) katsuki🧡 : Will be down in a sec.

you kissed him goodbye and called out a ‘take care’ just this morning before he left for work, but it feels like it’s been more than 24 hours since you last saw each other.

maybe you can chalk it up to your own workday being brutal and full of mishaps, but you’re lucky enough to have been able to leave on the dot instead of working overtime like the man who just texted you.

you were set to go on a dinner date, what with today being a friday and there being a new sought-after ramen shop that just opened earlier this week downtown. the plan was to meet back at your shared apartment so that he could drive you both to the restaurant, but a message from him at 4 in the afternoon saying he had to patrol overtime required you to do a little bit of adjusting.

which explains why you’re now parked right in front of the ground riot agency, essentially picking up your boyfriend.

tapping your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, you peer through the window to your right, eyeing the entrance to the building. true to his word, #4 pro-hero dynamight emerges from the glass doors, now wrapped in casual clothes instead of the hero gear he left home in this morning.

you barely make out him scanning the parking lot with that signature scowl on his face, but the angry expression instantly morphs into a look of recognition when he spots your car.

the man starts jogging toward you, and as he gets closer and closer to where you’re stationed, that’s when you notice he’s carrying what suspiciously looks like a bouquet of flowers.

but you don’t even get to react because, in a matter of seconds, he’s already opening the door to the passenger’s seat.

as he slides into the spot beside you, you’re instantly hit with the comforting smell of burnt caramel and that signature perfume of his that never fails to make you just a tad bit light-headed and, quite frankly, dumb.

“hey, babe,” bakugou greets you, before leaning over the console and placing a firm hand on the crook of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss.

despite yourself and the sheer number of times you’ve done this, you still flush when you feel his tongue brush over your lower lip just ever so slightly, which you’ve long identified as his way of asking for permission.

you’ve never been the type to deny him, and so you relent.

you barely stop yourself from groaning when the wet muscle enters your mouth, and for a moment you just sit there—brain empty—as he kisses you fervently, his grip on you unrelenting as ever.

bakugou katsuki doesn’t half-ass things, and that includes kissing you.

eventually, when you think he’s satisfied enough and aptly satiated, he pulls away, and it takes you a moment to ground yourself back to reality. he must’ve noticed, because the cocky son of a bitch only smirks to himself before moving again.

dazed, you watch your boyfriend as he stirs in his seat and grabs the bouquet you completely forgot about from under his feet, thrusting it toward you.

“here.”

your eyes dart back and forth between the bunch of pink tulips and the man, “are you being serious, right now?”

his eyebrows instantly furrow. “what? ‘course i am. picked them up during patrol. knew you’d like ‘em.”

at his mention of the item, your gaze drifts to the thing that’s been sitting in wait in your backseat.

bakugou studies you for a beat, probably wondering what the fuck is going on, before following your line of vision.

you brace yourself for his confusion or maybe even stunned silence in reaction to it.

but neither of those comes.

what does come, is something close to indignation.

“…who the fuck gave you that?”

you feel your face contort in confusion. “what?”

at that, bakugou turns even more toward the backseat, staring down the poor bouquet of orange lilies that absolutely hasn’t done anything wrong to be met with such disdain.

“which dipshit gave you those, hah?” he spews, evidently miffed. “was it that stupid coworker of yours who’s calling himself your fucking work husband?”

“what? no!” you exclaim, because why the hell would he think you’d even accept in the first place?

even with your denial, though, bakugou isn’t looking too pleased, now closely resembling a petulant child.

a cute, jealous, petulant child—

—holding a collection of tulips.

you try to tamp down the grin that’s fighting to take over your features, knowing better than to make him feel embarrassed for getting riled up over the idea of other guys being around you. reaching to the backseat, you take the assortment and quickly fix the areas that inadvertently got folded during the drive over, ultimately handing it to the man.

only the said man looks at you like you just grew horns.

it takes him a second to reply, voice gruff and low when he asks, disbelieving: “did you buy me flowers?”

you really don’t know how else to respond, so you nod. “got them on the way here. they were on display and they reminded me of you.”

at that, bakugou doesn’t say anything, eyes unwaveringly fixed on the bursts of orange.

but he doesn’t move to take them off your hands or something.

you feel your smile faltering just a little. “you don’t like them?”

he looks up at you, like your voice just brought him back from where he was deep in thought. “yeah—no, they’re nice.”

before you get to dwell on what nice means and if he really meant that or was just being courteous, bakugou wordlessly coaxes the flowers from your grip and sets them alongside the ones he got you.

once they’re secure in the tiny space beside him, he then leans over the console again, before planting a lingering kiss on your lips.

one that tells you all the things he can’t bring himself to say—at least at this exact moment.

one that’s definitely saying thank you and i love you.

and maybe, if you read into it close enough, an i love it—give me more in the future.

you eagerly return it before he can pull away.

you don’t think bakugou noticed, but on the silent drive to the restaurant (after you spent ten more minutes in the lot making out), you stole a glance just in time to catch him sniffing the flowers (the ones you got him) and seemingly fighting the upturn of the corners of his lips.

he also brought the bouquets with him to the restaurant, which he absolutely didn’t have to. when you playfully called him out on it, he told you off by saying you can’t just leave flowers in a car for various reasons. you listened to him as he went on and on about why that’s so, but the redness of his ears sort of gave him away.

and when you got home, the first thing he did when he thought you weren’t looking was grab two vases and get to work arranging the tulips and lilies together, placing them side by side at the center of your dining table.

it wouldn’t be until two weeks later, however, that you accidentally bump into his bedside table, causing the book he’s about halfway done reading to fall on the floor.

and when you stoop down to pick it up, you see that he’s on page 280, to be exact.

and marking that halfway point is a dried lily.

[21280]

SECOND DATE UPDATE!

izuku midoriya got ghosted by you after the first date! so, he turns to mic's radio show segment in an act of desperation to know what happened... fem reader (pronoun only used once), y/n had mic as a homeroom teacher before. post war.

midoriya is incredibly nervous as he stands by on the other line as mic's cheery voice blasts through his ear and through the radios of thousands, mic's words sounding incoherent as his mind races on the possible outcomes. though, he's sure there's only one.

he's going to be absolutely humiliated.

"so midoriya here had a nice at home date with a person named y/n, and according to him, everything was super fun! when he asked for a second date, he's been hit with nothing but excuses! so he’s waiting here in the other line while we ring up his date…"

riiiing.

it's an unknown number. you shrug, choosing to answer the call.

"hello?"

"hey hey hey! is this y/n?"

you recognize the voice coming from your speaker, your lips curling into a smile. "is this mr. yamada? oh my, yes this is she! it's been a while."

you can hear him chuckle, "how're ya doing, kiddo? i've seen you pop up on my newsfeed the other day—but we're here on official biz. i'm calling from put your hands up radio because there's this listener of ours that you went on a date with..."

"oh shoot" you say, "um, who is it?"

"do you remember going out with midoriya?"

oh god no, you think. your mind suddenly becomes flooded with images and memories of the past week, where you spent a few hours over at midoriya’s apartment. what was the purpose of all this—did he spill the beans to your homeroom teacher?

you sigh as you shake your head, "yes, i do remember him."

"that sigh tells me it wasn't a good date, now, was it?" mic asks, his curiosity is evident. "wanna tell me what he did wrong?"

you awkwardly chuckle, "midoriya's a really good guy, i swear!"

"but you've been blowin him off ever since your date! i've seen you on the papers, but are you reaaally busy or is that just a load of cap?" mic pressures, and you can only imagine his eyebrow raised in confusion.

"i did? my bad, i've been real busy with the agency i haven't had the time to reply to anyone.."

there's a few seconds of silence, before mic speaks up. "producer here told me you posted on your socials a few hours ago, so unless you have a team who posts selfies of you buying tea, you've been on your phone, my dear y/n" he laughs, "now spill. what happened with midoriya?"

"well, we had a nice dinner at his house, and we played some board games and watched three all might documentaries."

mic scoffs and laughs, “that does sound like a midoriya, alright. but hey—that seems like a nice date—what happened?”

you were unsure of whether or not you wanted to speak up, but decided to do so. “he just wouldn’t stop talking about all might! and, i know he’s his father figure or something but come on! even during dinner he kept mentioning how all might liked cedar from yakushima so he got a cedar scented candle because of that. we played all might themed board games. geez—even when i went to the bathroom he had an all might towel and soap dispenser. i damn nearly fell asleep during the second documentary and he shook me awake because i was missing the best part of it.”

by now, mic is exploding in laughter, the faint sound of his fist banging the table being heard. there’s a couple giggles heard in the background too, from his producer and other guests present.

“oh my god i didn’t know.”

your eyes widen in shock as you realize who the voice belonged to. mic clears his throat, “so, midoriya’s on the other line because he wanted to speak to you and know what he did wrong, and also to ask for a second date! surprise!”

you nearly choke on your spit as you hear his voice through your phone’s speaker. “i really didn’t know you didn’t like all might, but i mean you should’ve said something! we watched the top three documentaries!”

“did you ask me if i wanted to watch three documentaries about all might, midoriya?”

“you’re right—i’m so sorry” midoriya apologizes, and it seems genuine. you know he’s the type of guy to be oblivious at times, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

“is there any way i can make it up to you? a dinner at a restaurant, a trip, we can even watch documentaries of your favorite hero in return! i really like you, y/n, and i would like another chance.”

you can’t stop your heart from beating quicker when those words left his mouth. he’s a lover boy through and through, and he’s truly devoted to what he likes.

“edgeshot. i want an edgeshot interview compilation marathon.”

you can practically hear midoriya smile, “okay, great! i actually know a lot about him, did you know that during the war he—“

“oookay! looks like it’s all settled” mic chuckles, “i think it’s the first time we’ve had a second date update success!”

[dljae2025]

HARD TIME

All Haley wanted was to be a star but now she was going to be someone’s infantilized accessory . Having flown out to LA to audition for a role she was excited and after having lunch with the producers assistant do you agree to come along in her car to meet which was her last mistake . When she entered the car and buckled in, she was quickly grabbed a bag placed over her head and injected with a mild sedative and every breath she took brought her closer to unconscious before she finally passed out . Sometime later, she woke face on the mat of a cold concrete floor . Still dazed, she tried to move only to fuel a warm hug of a straight jacket surrounding her . As she felt her surrounding she felt a warm wet sensation around her crotch and smelled it a diaper . Actually, she laid there dazed and surprised she wondered what happened to her and she would get her answers soon enough . The door opened, revealing the producers assistant and the demand himself.  the man, looked at her and node affirmatively saying that she got the part but not the one she wanted tho . He introduced himself and his mistress as new nanny who would look after her during the transition phase . He explained to Haley that she had been chosen to undergo infantilization and she had all the right qualities to do so and needed to get her here under false pretenses . He continued by telling her that they already begun and given her first series of muscle relaxers to have her lose control of her bladder, which they could already tell was wet and would demonstrate. His mistress nanny will turn Haley over onto her back, pulling her numb legs up and unsealing the diaper . She would clean her and powder her crotch before putting a new one on her . All Haley could do was watch on in fear as she did . He explained that once she was ready, she would be adopted until then she would live here for now on until she finished her transition. 

Both would leave the room, locking it behind them, leaving haley face down and ass up in total shock at what happened and all she could do was cry her eyes out for hours . Later on they would be back to change her again and feed her for dinner, which was a warm bottle as she was held by the nanny mistress as she feed Haley, her warm bottle of medicine and formula . Days and weeks would pass without any measure of time being kept by Haley asked the days and weeks bleed into each other as she lost herself in isolation . She would cry periodically lamenting her decision not to tell anyone where she was going that she wanted to keep it a surprise if she got the “part” that was a lie . Eventually her decisions and the reasons to cry stopped mattering as her new reality set in . Her mind started to go along with her language skills as it requested back to an infantile state . As the months passed her legs would atrophy and turned to jelly being unable to stand up or walk having always been kept on her belly or back. Eventually, she would be let out of the room brought to a makeshift nursery with other captive people in similar states unable to communicate or transfer ideas of what they’ve been through so far. Almost a year and change Haley had all but forgotten about herself and was no more an Infantilized adult lacking any independence or agency to speaker of . Then the day would come when she would be adopted by a nice lesbian couple who took her in to begin her life again as an Infantilized woman who only ever wanted to be a star.



[mintedagustd]

Prod. SUGA

MDNI ONESHOT

Warnings: smut, getting railed while AgustD plays, Studio fuck, rough sex, dom!yoongi x subby!y/n, hair tug kink, petname kinks, praise kink. (Pls judge me at all costs im new to this)

Summary; from listening to his beats to getting railed while listening to one of his signature track song AgustD.

Note to Readers :this story is made for the use of fiction and is in no intent of harming or damaging any characters involved in reality. You have been warned. Do not interact if you’re also not comfortable.

His solid black walls are filled with beats and agonizing thoughts on how he will be able to complete his 2nd solo album D-Day. He tried going back to his old released songs maybe he can mash up and recycle few of his unused beats before. He tried mustering up something but he was too burned out. Literally cussing out why he even participated in this misery. “This is fucking me up. Why did I even sign up for this fuckery.” He whines to himself throwing himself back at his couch with perfectly black bags under his eyes.

With beats continuously blowing up his speakers and headphones, he didn’t realize that his door was unlocked and unnoticeably, someone had already entered. “You’re either gonna get yourself a finished album, or a song for your funeral. You hadn’t eaten anything since morning yoongi.”

His great sunshine friend hoseok tried to give him a sarcastic joke about how he’s been having a not-so-healthy appetite lately and obsessively drinking whiskey and coffee from dusk til dawn. “Come on man. You need to atleast eat something..” hoseok scans the room seeing all the scattered plastic cups of coffee and empty bottles of Jack Daniels.

“Jesus..you’re a mess.” Hoseok deadpans gathering up the plastic cups and getting a black garbage bag to gather up the messy coffee table and desk.

“Thanks for the compliment…” yoongi replies in the most monotonous manner. He remained stoic, but he surely does feel warmth with his friends concern.

“You didn’t really had to bring anything.. but I appreciate the concern..” yoongi tries to crack up a smile despite his friend scolding him from letting himself get too miserable.

“You’re not a cat who has 9 lives min yoongi..you have feline eyes but no…okay? I told Y/n to bring your dinner later.. don’t let yourself get too worked up on it bro~” Hoseok flashes him his iconic sunshine smile—it honestly cheered yoongi up a bit after being caved in his studio for the past couple of weeks like he’s glued stuck in his chair. But the mention of y/n definitely made him feel a bit better too knowing that you two have a good bond with each other. He thinks maybe he can also ask for your opinion about what song he should make.

“Thanks for passing by man.. I appreciate it…I owe you one..” yoongi smiles giving his bro a big bear hug and bidding their farewells and Goodlucks.

shortly after hoseoks departure from yoongi’s sacred studio, yoongi didn’t realize that it was already dinner time already.

Thankfully he was busy adjusting the stretched beats and added rhythms so the studio was dead silent. A soft knock and a soft voice never fails yoongi to know who was already behind the frosted door. “Coming..hold on.”

He pauses what he was doing and unlocked the door from inside meeting his eyes with the familiar dark brown orbs that never fail to make him feel warm.

“Hiii…I brought you some cheesy tteokbokki, and some kimchi fried rice..JK was sending his best wishes to you producer-nim~” you flashed him a soft smile and placed the food down his desk.

“Food can’t wait yoongi, your computer can. Come on don’t make me eat this whole bowl of tteoks..plus hobi would scold me if he were to find out you’re skipping dinner.” You tried to tidy up his messy coffee table. You were definitely expecting yoongi to be this miserable after a back to back meeting with the agency on how deadlines are approaching him each month and each week. The man barely sleeps and eats on time.

“And deadlines aren’t gonna wait miss ma’am.” yoongi sarcastically replies. As he tries to ignore you, the studio was soon filled with the aroma of the food you had brought in—definitely triggering the hunger he’s been ignoring since afternoon.

“You’re not gonna leave that black hole of a chair.” She retorts popping up beside yoongi while holding a small bowl filled with the food. “Eat it quickly before it gets cold..” you let out a deep sigh feeling like you’re ought to take care a teenager.

“I was about to stand y’know.. thanks.” Yoongi takes the food from your hands noticing the freshly manicured nails you have “nice nails..” he bluntly says out of nowhere.

“Oh, uhm thanks.. I didn’t really plan on getting new sets of nails.. Jimin was enthusiastic and he kept on offering me that he’ll treat me and didn’t plan on listening to my declines.. so… yeah..the man who definitely can’t be moved.” You joked.

“Mhh always been his nature.” He chews on his food as he twists and turn gently on his leather working chair. “Knowing him? He’d be sad if you ever turn down his offer.” He adds as he grabs more food.

“I know…whatchu got here going on..” you crossed your arms scanning the two big screens infront of the two of you.

“jesus do you not get eye strains from these big screens…” you squint leaning forward seeing a bunch of folders and tabs opened—some are even unreadable because of how many tabs are up.

“I feel sorry for your monitor and your eyes min..” you chuckled as you shifted you body to face yoongi who’s having his 3rd set of tteoks.

“I paid everything in cold cash. They better work well..” he speaks between rice cakes on his cheeks “plus they’re all expensive equipment..so they’re most probably heavy duty too..” he adds with a sly smirk plastered on his face.

“Mhhh no comment..” you smile as you browse through his screen tabs and getting caught of guard with yoongi snatching the mouse and pressing Alt + Tab—switching the screen to a different application.

“What the fuck are you doing..” he panics.

“What? I was just going through it.. it’s so bombarding to look at..” you rolled your eyes playfully as you leaned on his working table.

“A producer has his secrets you know..?” He places his food down wiping the sauce off his pink lips. “And besides. You shouldn’t be touching things that aren’t yours…you’re trespassing me..” he jokes squinting at her.

“Arrest me then.” You playfully grin shaking your head. Yoongi on the other hand felt something starting in the pit of his stomach when he heard that very unholy demand from you.

“Oh, don’t start with me little miss juno.” He smirks proud of his reply. Juno had a close meaning to his joke of asking to be cuffed, and he’s also been hooked with Sabrina Carpenters Short n’ Sweet album recently.

“Stop teasing…I need to ask for your opinion…” he changed the subject escaping the mild heat radiating between the two of them despite the distance between them. “I was thinking of getting a few beats from my oldest songs.. like here.” He leans back to his table as he taps away to his clicky keyboard. He then proceeds to play his song “Agust D.” The intro is filled with painfully hard and beautiful construction of beats.

“Oh fuck that intro is hot.” You smile as you listen to his blasting speakers. You then paused the song as you faced yoongi trying to act all relaxed and chill—wherein reality he’s been trying to control himself from pulling you to sit down on his lap because of you leaning too much on his table.

“What-“ yoongi retorts

“I know you’ll come up with something yoongi.. you’re a one hell of a producer after all..” you flashed him a smile while trying to shift the heat back on his studio.

“But…maybe you need to relax too..” you smiled softly brushing the locks covering his pretty feline eyes with your nails. His hair got longer since he’s been busy for a couple of months now. He didn’t have enough time to even put himself first for a bit.

“Producers don’t relax..” he sighs. Lounging himself back in his black leather chair.

The moment he signed up for making a new album, he knew that this would be far and different to what he usually does. Since, unlike before he will now only have himself to create masterpieces. I mean, sure he can still talk to his brothers and co-producers for some second opinions, but of course it’s just only him that would need to accomplish it by the end of the day.

“You can always ask for help yoongi.” You smile flashing him a comforting tone. You cherish yoongi at all costs, not only because of your hidden feelings towards him but also because the members also cherish each others well beings. It was very infectious whenever they show tenderness and care for each other in their most lowest times. And you were happy to provide the same kind of treatment to yoongi.

“Any help..?” He raises a brow clasping his hands together with his head slightly tilted. Trying to remain stoic and control a growing smirk in his face.

“Yeah..? Producers need help too. It’s not a big deal yoongi..” you flashed him a soft smile while running your pointy nails on his table where you’re leaning on.

“You promise me first that you’ll help me in every possible manner.” Yoongi raises his pinky waiting for you to hook on his pinky. “I promise.” You smile hooking your pinky on his awaiting pinky.

As soon as their pinkies hooked. Yoongi used it as a way to pull you closer to him. “No turning back now.” He whispers on your lips sliding his pinky off and pulling your hips towards him. You straddled down trying to hold on yourself but ending up getting tightly gripped on the waist.

“Wanna know a secret..?” He looks at you making you look back at his hypnotic eyes. “What…?” You utter under your stippling breath.

“I think I might’ve forgotten how to relax…mind helping me on that one first pretty..?” He runs his finger on her pale cheeks and takes a strand of her resting hair and twisting them around his slander finger. “Use that pretty mouth of yours to good use.” He runs his tongue on his lips hydrating them from dryness.

You stared for a moment and tried to ask him again to repeat. “What..?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself princess. Get on your knees.” He demands. Clearly making you snap back to your thoughts and making you realize that you’re not hearing things from him. You got up anxiously and excitedly at the same time.

“Here.. put these under your knees..” he grabs a tangerine shaped pillow on his black leather sofa handing it to you so that you don’t get your knees to hurt. Despite the big rug saying “KEEP OFF” he still wanted you to be comfortable.

“Take these off..” you lowly demanded tugging on his comfortable sweatpants strings. His gray sweatpants and crumpled white shirt is enough to express how he didn’t even care what he would look like since he would just stay pent up in his studio.

Soon after letting you lead, he was left in his black Calvin Klein boxers. “Can I touch it…?” You asked. Of course you would prefer verbally hearing him to consent you to move forward.

“Go on. It’s all yours.” He mumbles running his hands on his dark hair only the light from his screen as the source of light inside his dimmed studio. You soon took advance of his consent, gently pulling him out and free his length out from the tightness of his boxers.

With a light grip and a slow tease. You slowly moved your pace to a comfortable level of speed. It’s not quick, neither slow since you also don’t want him to rush and just enjoy his time.

He lets out rolls of husky throat grunts and grumbles already wanting you to pick up your speed—he doesn’t wanna rush you but it was painfully tightening around his stomach. He was enjoying it when you suddenly slipped his tip on your full lips.

He wanted so badly to have a taste of your lips but also enjoys what he’s having right now. “Yeah..fuck…keep it that way baby..” He lets out a low growls and grunts underneath his voice.

Yoongi was growing impatient and wanted to pick up his pace. He then brushes your hair back making a slicked back messy ponytail and thrusted his way forward meeting your throat. You gagged at the sudden change of pace and you tried your best to keep your tears from falling.

“Fuck. Yes. Thats it. Yes.” He moans hitting the back of your throat continuously. He hisses pulling out and standing up for a better position letting his sweatpants pool down his ankles.

He then accidentally plays the song that was paused earlier making the speakers blast his song Agust D as he gets worked up in fucking up that pretty face of yours.

“Oh look at that. Hmnhg.. you don’t know how fucking pretty you look right now with my dick stuck on your mouth like that.” He talks between thrusts chasing his breath in every push and pull. You were incoherently moaning along with his steady pace. “Mnhh! Mnhhgghh!” You rolled your eyes back tugging on his shirt and swatting his full ass as you feel your jaw growing tired. He then pulls out and pulls your wrist up to make you stand.

You struggled to stand quickly with his sudden pull, then the next thing you knew you were turned around and bent over his work table. “Yoongi-“ you were already too late when he covers your mouth with his palm and a loud slap on your ass was made. “Don’t touch my ass like that. You got me. ?” He gutters in gritted teeth as he pulls down your black shorts swatting your ass bare.

“Mnhg!” You tearfully nodded feeling a sting on your left buttcheek. You surely can tell that it would leave a palm mark on your ass. He then proceeds to grab something on his left side drawer. You were surprised with the whole box of condoms on his cabinet making you shot him a question. “Do you fuck that often?” You threw your head back watching as he tears the foil open and placing it to his length. “To answer that question. No. And to add up to that, namjoon gave me that whole box of condoms…I have no idea that it would even get used…” he deadpans while he stretched the elastic to his size.

You tried to act convinced and just nodded your head, he was sure you weren’t convinced but he had no time to explain further because of his situation. His song played repeatedly as he pumps himself and spat on his palms to lubricate you before he stretches you open. “You seem tight.” He whispers as he gently tugs your left thigh to rest on his table spreading you suddenly. He didn’t even care to take off your laced underwear and just set it aside. “D-do you think it would fit…?” You anxiously ask since this was your actual first intercourse. You had some few kisses, and touches back then but never this far.

“I’ll make it fit doll.” He whispers as he gently guides his tip on your tight folds. He kisses your shoulders trying to ease down your anxious thoughts and take a fee strokes to make you feel comfortable.

He then holds on your waist firmly as he slips his tip letting it rest for a moment. “Fuck. This was better than I imagined.” He hisses as he gently slips halfway watching your reflection on his screen igniting his hips to thrust forward making you feel yourself stretch out completely.

“AH!” You covered your mouth even if you knew that the studio would most likely be soundproof. “I wanna hear you princess.” He leans behind you pressing himself against your back pulling your palms down. He tapped something on his keyboard while you stir back to reality.

“F-fuck yoongi..” you furrow your brows as you run your nails on his hair beside you. “You’re making it harder for me to not move doll.” He pulls out and thrusts back in jolting you forward. He was also attentively listening to his speakers blasting and already picked his pace thrusting harder and faster. He moved fiercely catching up with his fast paced song listening carefully to the moans you’re producing. You were too busy and distracted to even realize that he was syncing with his song—making him able to hit on your sweetest g-spot.

“That- thaaaat!” You tenses up letting a few more squirms and squeals as he tries to reach for your edge. “Yoongi I’m- I’m—“ you spilled over him quickly and tried to look for something to hold on. Yoongi kept going not stopping after your awaited release. “Yoongi- yoongi- oh my fucking- ah!” Your body shook continuously feeling another knot tying up your stomach. Overstimulation was what he was chasing for.

“Fuck I’m gonna fucking cum.” Yoongi moans between breathes and he stills as he picks up faster shaking up his table against the walls.

“F-fuuuckkkk…” you let out a long moan digging your acrylic nails on his biceps.

He then reaches his edging point and releases on the elastic. “Fuck I need a more firm table…” he catches his breathe holding on your weak figure.

“Oh doll, you okay..?” He leans on your ears, his dick still nestled inside you. He soon pulls it out and sits you comfortably on his desk. “You okay princess..?” He presses his keyboard stopping the recording and placing his attention back on you.

“You were recording me moaning weren’t you..?” You smiled resting your arms on his shoulders pulling him to a soft kiss. He was shocked considering that he was still surprised despite how he literally just rocked you up and made you cum against his working desk.

“I always thought your lips tasted sweet.” He tries changing the subject. “But to answer your question…I was thinking of playing with that recording a little..just a fun way to relax you know..?” He teasingly leans forward catching your lips again as he wraps your legs around him.

“Aren’t you a little minx mr. AgustD..?” You chuckled resting yourself on his shoulders. He grabbed some left wet wipes package lying around and cleaned you up doing a little aftercare.

“By the way…Happy Valentines Day.” He leans back in kissing you softly, filling your lips with tenderness and care.

[strawberrystepmom]

fukuzawa x f!reader. cw alcohol is mentioned, age gap insinuated. i'm back with another weird will they or won't they situationship, everyone. wc 1.3k | divider by cafekitsune like usualllll

“Hello?”

Yukichi’s greeting nearly catches in his throat during the scramble to press his phone against his ear, cold tips of his fingers touching the heat of his earlobe. The warmth only began after he recognized your name on the device’s screen

“I’m surprised you picked up,” you tease from the other end of the phone. Stepping into your apartment, you bend your calf and lean downward to unbuckle the tiny strap of your heeled shoe while leaning against the wall. Sighing, you let the balls and arches of your feet touch the ground and your next words come out in a tipsy flutter, something you simply cannot help. “What are you doing?”

He can almost smell the subtle and clean apple and lemon notes of your favorite wine if he closes his eyes and tries hard enough. The pair of you have shared a bottle on more than one occasion and he only stopped accepting your invitation to drink when he realized he struggled to control himself with each sip and minute passed staring at the fullness of your lips. You made him vulnerable in a way he will never be able to afford being. There is no reason he should’ve answered your call but here he is, eyes glancing downward while he considers what to say next.

“Working, as always.”

You giggle at his answer and he can tell you are probably at least four glasses of wine deep solely based on the pitch of your laughter. The sound of the gradual removal of all of your clothing is audible through the speaker of his phone and he sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Fukuzawa has been around the block long enough to be familiar with what the rustle of clothing, the lowering of zippers, and the swish of bare thighs rubbing against one another sounds like. 

“And here I was hoping you were having a little fun tonight,” you tease while plopping down on your sofa in nothing but your panties. Not that he knows that (and not that you’ll tell him) but it only further increases the hazy glow of your good mood and you kick your legs behind you while resting on your stomach. “What are you working on, Fukuzawa-san?”

Letting go of the bridge of his nose and dropping his hand back down to rest atop his desk, he debates simply hanging up and ending your game before it can truly begin. The man is well aware of what you are attempting to do with this call and as much as he is a man, he is a professional first. He does not want to get drunk with you, he doesn’t want to spend time outside of professional settings with you, yet…

“You know I cannot give you that information.”

A defeated groan from you makes the man chuckle and he shakes his head. This call needs to end if not now then in the next thirty seconds and his foot taps impatiently while he tries to come up with an excuse. You are too forthcoming, although you make a paltry attempt to seem respectable when you aren’t wine soaked and clearly eager to talk to him. It makes it hard to tell you no because you will simply pout then further disarm him with another borderline intrusive question he isn’t sure he wants to answer. You are an itch he wants to scratch but it would be an indulgence to do so, for better or worse. 

“Awww, come on. I worked at the agency too.” Shaking his head again, he eyes the paperwork in front of him. Your time at the agency was both a spring breeze and a period of great stress for its President. “You were a temporary secretary who has never had a right to know privileged information.”

The staffing agency you worked for requested your return for another assignment and you parted from the Armed Detective Agency with bouquets of flowers and requests for future meetings or dinners with everyone working there nearly a year ago. You also slipped a thank you note containing glowing words for Fukuzawa and his staff with your phone number written at the bottom for good measure, in case the glimmer of interest you caught was just that.  Now here you both are, interchangeably wondering what the other thinks while keeping all the unsaid to yourselves.

Yukichi changes the subject rather than bothering to linger in the gray area of the unspoken.

“What are you up to? That seems like the more fascinating question to ask.”

Sighing, you shift and he hears it. He has never been to your apartment but given how relaxed he has seen you become at his home, he imagines you’re sprawled out somewhere or curled up in a pile of blankets, like a spoiled house cat which you tipsily admitted you felt you were more fit to be than a grown woman during your last catch up many months ago.

You’ve shared many, many things with him during tipsy evenings - your dreams of someday doing something meaningful with your life than fill-in secretary work, the past you’ve left behind, and your undeniable attraction to him being what encouraged you to poorly attempt to court him in the first place. All the reasons he decided to leave you be all those months ago.

“Oh, hmm…I had a few glasses of wine with a friend and on the way home, decided I wanted to catch up with you.”

A little piece of him wants to ask you to elaborate on the friend part although he isn’t entitled to such information. He reminds himself that he’s the one who decided to create distance between the two of you. This simple fact alone means he has no right to presume or ask or wonder.

“Lucky me,” he mutters sarcastically and you laugh raucously. He can picture the crinkle in your nose and your big smile all too easily and once more, he needs a reason to end this call. Can he pretend there is interference? Does that still work? 

“I won’t keep you if you’re busy, I just missed the sound of your voice.” Another one of those terribly honest tipsy confessions and his grip tightens around his phone. Damn that loose tongue of yours. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a bit but I would love to catch up if you ever have the time.”

He hums and you know you are asking for more than he will give you, as usual. He took his space and you should have respected it despite the many occasions where your thumb lingered over his name. The temptation to call him and talk to someone who makes you feel understood has been almost too strong to overcome on several occasions, you've still managed to overcome. A lapse in judgment is all tonight was and his silence speaks volumes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, I hope you have a good night and take care of yourself.”

Your voice grows distant while you yank the phone from your ear but noise from the other end makes you pause, raising a brow.

“Wait a minute.” You hear Fukuzawa’s request clear as day and stop from hanging up, gingerly pressing the phone back against your ear. “You don’t have to go but I would rather hear about you than talk about me.”

His mind is already filling in the blanks of your pout, remembering that you dislike being told no although it’s mostly for show. 

“If you insist, Fukuzawa-san.” 

Sighing, he wishes you’d stop using the formality. He wishes you’d stop calling, giggling, tempting yet he leans back in his chair with his eyes closed, mind greeting him with the vision of you.

A temptation he can’t afford yet is reluctant to deny himself.

[cryiling]

as much as i hated 431, it baffles me even more when i see people acting like it's the end of the world for bkdk / that izuocha is canon. the week of leaks leading up to the official release had me stressed with everyone was freaking out, but the chapter was honestly so open-ended??

"deku rejected bakugo!! he doesn't want to work at his hero agency!!" his initial rejection was completely accidental. deku didn't realize that bakugo had offered him a spot at his agency. hell, even *I* didn't realize that was bakugo's offer until reading some analyses of the chapter afterwards.

even when deku realizes and still tells bakugo no thank you, it's not personal at all. he literally just affirmed to the audience that he's not an active hero right now. it wouldn't make sense for him to join an agency if he's still working full-time as a teacher. it doesn't matter who offered him a position at an agency; deku would've still declined. but that's not to say he'll never join bakugo's agency. just perhaps further down the line, and especially not as a sidekick.

"bakugo let deku walk away, he gave up chasing after him, they're not best friends anymore" BYEEE LMFAO this one made me laugh out loud. this was NOT an emotional goodbye forever scene 😹 literally in the same breath as deku waves bye, he tells bakugo to drop by ua again as a guest speaker. they've been seeing each other regularly, and they will continue to keep seeing each other. also, the only reason they're even parting ways for the night is because bakugo has an early morning the next day. otherwise, it sounds like bakugo absolutely would've been deku's ride home. don't even make me laugh. this is not "goodbye forever," this is "get home safe, see you in a few days."

"izuocha is canon!!!" BE SOOO FOR REAL RIGHT NOW. there was exactly one confirmed ship in 431 and it was mushroom girl x shadow guy from class b. izuocha shippers are welcome to interpret this however they like, but there was zero confirmation that they have a reciprocal crush on each other or get together.

they're both friends but realize they didn't get a chance to talk to each other at all at the reunion dinner. deku, remembering bakugo's life advice, decides to affirm to uraraka that she is an important friend to him and not just some rando like everyone else. he asks if she wants to catch up more since they didn't get a chance to. uraraka is still clearly struggling because of toga's death, but toga tells her not to feel held back from living just because of her death. uraraka says she also wanted to catch up, and then they DAP EACH OTHER UP LMFAOOO

i can't even begin to unpack how hilarious that last panel is, but i can't get over all the bkdk-antis saying that it was romantic. if you think that's the peak of romance i feel sorry for you 😹

the beauty of this chapter is that it's so so open-ended. you ship izuocha? feel free to interpret this through your lens. you ship something else? you can interpret it that way too (big shoutout to kamimomojiro truthers i was cheering too). you hated this chapter? horikoshi has literally given you permission to ignore it altogether

me personally i will be ignoring it and living out my bkdk fantasy 🙌

[afterdinner-speakers]

Diversity and inclusion after-dinner speakers: Why you should use an agency

After dinner speakers are a great way to add entertainment and inspiration to your event. They can also be a valuable tool for promoting diversity and inclusion in your workplace.

But with so many different speakers to choose from, it can be difficult to know where to start. That's where an after dinner speaker agency can come in handy.

Benefits of using an after-dinner speaker agency

Here are just a few of the benefits of using an motivational speaker agency:

Expertise: Motivational speaker agencies have the expertise to help you find the right speaker for your event and audience. They can also help you negotiate fees and contracts.

Convenience: Event speaker agencies take care of all the logistics of booking a speaker, so you can focus on planning your event.

Peace of mind: The speaker agency UK has a reputation to uphold, so you can be trusted to provide you with a high-quality speaker and experience.

How to choose an UK speaker agency

When choosing an after-dinner speaker agency, be sure to consider the following factors:

Reputation: Look for an agency with a good reputation and experience booking speakers for events of your size and type.

Range of speakers: Make sure the agency has a wide range of speakers to choose from, so you can find the perfect one for your event.

Fees: Get quotes from multiple agencies before making a decision.

Why diversity and inclusion speakers are important

Diversity and inclusion speakers can help to:

Promote understanding and respect for different cultures, backgrounds, and experiences.

Challenge stereotypes and biases.

Create a more inclusive workplace for everyone.

Case studies

Here are a few examples of successful events that have used diversity and inclusion after-dinner speakers:

Event: A global technology company's annual conference

Speaker: A motivational speaker who is also a woman of color

Feedback: The speaker's speech was well-received by the audience, and many attendees commented on how inspiring and thought-provoking it was.

Event: A diversity and inclusion training workshop

Speaker: A comedian who uses humor to address social issues such as racism and sexism

Feedback: The speaker's speech was both funny and informative, and it helped to create a safe and supportive space for attendees to discuss diversity and inclusion issues.

Conclusion

If you are looking for a way to promote diversity and inclusion at your next event, consider booking a diversity and inclusion after-dinner speaker. With the help of an after-dinner speaker agency, you can find the perfect speaker for your event and audience.

Additional tips

Here are a few additional tips for choosing and booking a diversity and inclusion after-dinner speaker:

Consider your audience: Who will be attending your event? What are their interests and needs? Once you have a good understanding of your audience, you can choose a speaker who is likely to resonate with them.

Choose a speaker who is authentic: The best diversity and inclusion speakers are those who are authentic and share their own personal stories and experiences. This helps to create a connection with the audience and makes the speech more engaging.

Ask about the speaker's experience: Make sure the speaker has experience speaking to audiences about diversity and inclusion. You can ask them about their previous speaking engagements and what kind of feedback they have received.

By following these tips, you can book a diversity and inclusion speaker who will help to make your event more inclusive and inspiring.

[onsitecarservicing-blog]

Event Speaker Agencies: Navigating the World of Engaging Presentations

Event speaker agencies play a pivotal role in orchestrating successful and memorable events. These agencies serve as a bridge between event organisers and charismatic, knowledgeable after dinner speakers who can captivate audiences. In this article, we'll delve into the intricacies of event speaker agencies, explore how to choose the right one, and highlight some of the most popular agencies in the industry.

What is an Event Speaker Agency?

A UK speaker bureau acts as a talent hub, connecting event organisers with professional diversity and inclusion speakers who possess the expertise and charisma to make an impact. These agencies carefully curate a roster of mental health speakers with diverse backgrounds, ranging from industry experts to motivational speakers, ensuring a tailored match for any event.

These agencies facilitate the entire process, from understanding the client's event objectives to recommending speakers who align with those goals. By leveraging their networks and industry insights, event speaker agencies streamline the speaker selection process, saving time and effort for event organisers.

How Do I Choose a UK Speaker Agency?

Choosing the right event speaker agency is a critical step in the success of your event. Consider the following factors to make an informed decision:

Expertise and Specialisation:

Look for agencies with experience in your industry or niche.

Assess their track record in providing speakers for similar events.

Speaker Roster:

Examine the diversity and expertise of the speakers on their roster.

Ensure the agency can match you with a speaker who resonates with your audience.

Client Testimonials:

Read reviews and testimonials from previous clients.

Evaluate the success stories and feedback related to the agency's speaker recommendations.

Customisation and Flexibility:

Choose an agency that understands your unique event requirements.

Ensure they are flexible in accommodating specific requests and adjustments.

Budget Considerations:

Clearly define your budget for speaker fees and agency services.

Seek transparency regarding any additional costs or fees.

What Are Some of the Most Popular Event Speaker Agencies?

Several event speaker agencies have earned acclaim for their exceptional services and ability to match the right speakers with the right events. While preferences may vary based on specific needs, here are three notable agencies:

The Right Address:

Renowned for its diverse roster of speakers, spanning business, technology, and entertainment.

The Right Address prioritises personalised service, ensuring a seamless experience for clients.

Eloquent Engagements:

Specialising in motivational and leadership speakers, Eloquent Engagements is a go-to agency for inspiring presentations.

Known for its attention to detail and commitment to understanding client objectives.

Oratorical Experts Hub:

Catering to a global clientele, this agency excels in providing multilingual speakers for international events.

Oratorical Experts Hub is recognised for its meticulous speaker selection process.

In conclusion, navigating the world of online motivational speakers involves understanding their role, considering key factors in the selection process, and exploring reputable agencies in the industry. By making informed choices, event organisers can ensure that their chosen speakers not only meet but exceed the expectations of their audience, creating impactful and memorable events.

[coochiequeens]

I've taken many jabs at the ACLU for defending perverted freaks now here's the HRC following their lead.

By Reduxx Team February 16, 2024

A registered child sex offender was welcomed at the Human Rights Campaign’s North Carolina Dinner gala last week, just months after a controversy involving him being awarded a top LGBT advocacy prize. Chad Severance-Turner, a former youth minister, is currently the Chief Executive Officer at the Carolina LGBT+ Chamber of Commerce.

On February 10, the Human Rights Campaign in North Carolina held its annual dinner gala, with a number of top LGBT activists in attendance. Among the speakers at the Bank of America-sponsored “Without Exception” event was HRC Press Secretary Brandon Wolf and Democrat State Senator Lisa Grafstein.

But among those featured in attendance was Chad Severance-Turner, a registered child sex offender who has managed to rise to prominence as an LGBT advocate in North Carolina.

As previously reported by Reduxx, Turner was first accused by three boys of sexual abuse in 1998.

According to a GoUpstate report on the case from 2000, all of the victims who had come forward had met Turner through his position as the music director at the New Harvest Church of God in Gaffney, South Carolina. The cases were tried separately due to the nature of the charges, and Turner was ultimately only convicted on one offense. 

Of the incidents Turner was convicted on, a 14-year-old boy had testified that Turner had invited him to spend the night at his house in the nearby community of Bessemer City, North Carolina. The victim stated that during the visit, Turner had questioned him on how he’d feel about a man performing oral sex on him. 

Turner, wearing a silver vest, at the February 10 HRC Dinner.

“I thought he was joking,” the boy told the court. He explained that Turner frequently questioned him about sexual acts between men and women, which upset him because of the man’s position in the church. The victim continued that, following a revival meeting, he and Turner stayed overnight at the home of one of the other alleged victims. 

The teen says he awoke to find Turner fondling his genitals, but didn’t immediately report it due to shame.

The second minor, who said he was 15 when the incident occurred, stated he was invited to Turner’s home where the older man showed him a pornographic video of a man and a woman having sex. He then said that later that night, after he and Turner went to sleep in the same bed, he woke up to find Turner fondling him.

The third alleged victim, who was also 15 at the time, said Turner had made the same advances to him over a three-week period when he stayed in the boy’s home. The minor said Turner had fondled him several times. 

“He told me if I ever told the pastor, he’d make me look like a fool and a liar,” the boy said.

Turner’s registration with the North Carolina Sex Offender and Public Protection Agency.

During the trial, Turner’s defense attorney, Thomas Shealy, accused the boys of perpetrating a “witch hunt,” and asserted that it was suspicious that there was a few month delay between them being sexually abused and them going to their parents. 

Turner was ultimately convicted on the charges related to the first victim, and sentenced to 10 years in prison for committing lewd acts on a minor under the age of 16. He served 2 years behind bars before being released on parole and being ordered to the sex offender registry.

Since being released from prison, Turner has become an active and notable member of the Charlotte LGBTQ advocacy community. 

In 2012, Turner was elected the president of the LGBT+ Chamber of Commerce, immediately heading efforts to push for an expanded “nondiscrimination” ordinance which many complained would have prevented businesses from maintaining spaces such as washrooms as single-sex. 

He was named “Person of the Year” by LGBT news outlet QNotes in March of 2015, but would resign from his Chamber of Commerce post in 2016 after his history as a child sex offender came to light. He would once again join the LGBT+ Chamber of Commerce as its inaugural CEO in 2021, a position he has held since. Under his leadership, the Chamber has secured partnerships with prominent organizations like Fifth Third Bank, NASCAR, Duke Energy, Wells Fargo, Sonoco, and Novant Health. He was also recently appointed by Charlotte Mayor Vi Lyles to serve on the city’s Business Advisory Committee.

Turner has previously been awarded an honor by the Human Rights Campaign at their annual gala, though at the time, HRC officials refused to state whether they were aware of his child sex offender status prior to giving him the award.

Most recently, Turner was honored with the Harvey Milk Award by Charlotte Pride in a controversial move that was quickly reversed after Reduxx reported on his pedophile past.

[astteriskk]

Prologue: A New Destination

“Kaede, when are you going to visit?”

“Soon, I promise.”

Kaede chuckled and she scribbled notes onto her paper. On the other side of the continent, Shuichi was brewing a cup of coffee with his phone on the counter, set on speaker mode. “You said that a week ago.” He complained. She scoffed and flipped the page. “I have a concert soon. After that, I’ll book a flight, ok?” She tried to compromise. He sighed and gave in, letting her have her way. It had been a year since the two had seen each other. The only reason they knew where each other was because they were allowed to have contact with one person. After the killing game, the sixteen of them, minus Tsumugi, had been freed from the Team Danganronpa headquarters. But, instead of just letting them go normally, they spread them across the United States and didn’t inform them of where their friends would be. They were given a basic apartment and a mall fund of money to get them started on their new lives, but nothing other than that. Kaede found herself with a few jobs to juggle. She mainly played piano for jazz clubs across Las Vegas, but sometimes she was invited to play for the occasional dinner party. Shuichi, on the other hand, ran a detective agency in New Orleans. She had wanted to move there, but she just never had the money to do so. Shuichi had already established a good business there by the time he started making good money. He couldn’t just leave. They relied on him. So, she planned to visit him. But things kept coming up and she could just never find the time. Luckily, they were about to go into the fall. Usually, she’s freer in the fall since everyone is busy.

              “Kaede, can’t you just cancel the concert? I know you love it there but there’s a café nearby where I work that lets people reserve times for them to perform. I know the owners pretty well and I can get you a reservation if you’d like.” Shuichi tried his best to persuade his female friend. She giggled at his attempt and frowned afterward. “Maybe. I…” She trailed off, glancing down at her watch. The owners of the jazz club were messaging her about times. “Maybe I’ll cancel. When should I fly down there?” She asked. She could practically hear Shuichi’s eyes light up. “I’ll book you one for tomorrow morning. Is seven alright for you? You’ll end up getting there around ten.” He sounded deep in thought. Kaede shivered at the thought of getting up so early but agreed anyway. “That’s fine. Just let me cancel real quick.” She typed delicately on her watch, informing her superiors that she wouldn’t be there. Shuichi continued to chat about some cases he was working on as Kaede sat up from her chair at the dinner table. “What should I make for dinner?” She inquired, opening her fridge. It was half stocked, though not enough for a meal. “What do you have?” He said. She breathed in through her teeth sharply. “Literally nothing.” She shrugged, though he couldn’t see. He laughed at her bluntness. “Why don’t you just order takeout?” He suggested. She gasped and slammed the fridge door shut. “Oh my god, you’re a genius.” She grabbed her phone and opened the app for her favorite Chinese restaurant. Thirty minutes later, she had her food and was sitting, wrapped in a blanket, eating Chinese food, and chatting happily with Shuichi.

A/N: I don't have AO3 yet, so I'm posting this here first. This is the prologue to a post-game Danganronpa fanfiction. The main ship is Amamatsu (Kaede x Rantaro) with little hints of other ships thrown in there. I can't promise how often I'll update, but please enjoy my silly little story

[gracelaramusings]

Day 16-17: Vientiane Hard Rock, Temples and Pakse Hotpots

The day of our Veng Vieng departure we did a repeat shakshouka breakfast and topped it off with a nutella banana street food pancake that we always saw the long lines for but never ventured to get. We went, as all Israelis do, to the stall that shared the placard of menu offerings with stickers of fallen soldiers. This stickered sign, the singular thing that differentiated her's from the other near-identical stalls that lined the street, made all the difference in the world such that no other stall would do.

We boarded our waiting tuktuk that we had reserved the night before and headed to the fast train station, picking up a French traveler along the way who was holding a weathered Michelin guide. Any starred restaurants here, I asked. He laughed. Asking what he did, he mentioned that among his many activities, he took a balloon ride with a French-owned balloon agency where the operators lengthen the ride for French-speakers, he explained, so its "better for the price."

We reached the train station and headed in, now familiar with the procedure. We got on line for boarding, and the man in front of us turned around. "You!" he exclaimed, our hearts skydiving, waiting for the next words. "You are the dancer from the Club!" he joyfully exclaimed, as if he had the fortune of waiting on line with a famous person. Yuval and I looked at eachother in disbelief, then laughed.

The train earned its name and we quickly arrived at the capital. We followed the crowds to the transport area, and there I found someone who looked like he was a part of the routine, showed him the location of our hotel on google maps, and he ushered me to the right bus, threw our bags on board and we boarded. A family with two young boys were the last to enter. The mother encouraged her youngest to sit next to the driver and he refused, so his older brother did. Then the tears started, because the little boy now wanted that seat, so they squeezed in together, now happy. Recalling precisely such situations from when our kids were young travellers, I revisited the hope that once again sometime in the near or distant future I will again have the opportunity to do such travels with beloved young (grand?)children, and we set off.

We decided a capital justified a proper hotel, so we took a nice one, in a central part of town near many of the sights and right across from the Hard Rock Cafe Vientiane which, it seems has fantastic live bands, which we enjoyed later that night.

We literally had about 36 hours to enjoy the town until our flight the next day. We wandered the alleyways to people-watch, visited the most famous of temples, did our rounds of beautiful Buddhas, got our fill of the beauty and history of Laos. We visited a night market, and sang along with a damn-good version of Sweet Child of Mine at the Hard Rock, foregoing a t-shirt due to its astronomical price. There is more I would have done had we had more time, but really, that day and a half was all we needed to get a taste of the capital.

That second evening we took a tuktuk to the airport, boarded our flight to Pakse and before we knew it, we were in our final destination.

We took a guesthouse on the outskirts of town since the best hostels had only bunk beds in dorms, and we decided to skip that pleasure and maintain our minimum status of a private room, preferably with our own bathroom.

The place was nice enough. It was near a mall, and we finally settled on trying out a buffet-style hotpot (soup-based) place for dinner. My initial trepidation about such unfamiliar dining was swept away after the help of the wait staff and Mr. Google Translate. Vegetarian options galore, mine was a mushroom soup, and I had every green, shroom and curd under the sun, while Yuval's bone broth cooked jellyfish, squid and other adventuresome items. Spring rolls, kimche, wakame and more evened out the experience. Yum.

We walked back to our guesthouse in pitch dark with the help of flashlights, doing our best to avoid any dramatic potholes.

The guesthouse owner was helpful for all things dealing with planning, as the next day we were to begin our next adventure: the Bolaven Loop, including two overnights along the way. She assured us that we could finish the planning just after breakfast, so we went to sleep, excited for our next Lao adventure.

[realeyez360]

How Professional Photography Elevates the Impact of Corporate Events

In the world of company events, first impressions be counted. Whether it’s a excessive-profile commercial enterprise convention, a product launch, or a gala dinner, capturing the essence of these occasions is vital for their fulfillment. This is wherein the know-how of a Dubai Events Photographer Videographer or an Abu Dhabi Corporate Events Photographer turns into invaluable. Through their lenses, these specialists turn fleeting moments into lasting visual narratives, ensuring that the event resonates lengthy after it ends.

Professional images does greater than just report an occasion; it amplifies its impact. For corporate occasions, the pix and movies captured serve as a effective device for branding and conversation. High-quality visuals mirror professionalism and attention to detail, traits which might be important in setting up credibility with clients, partners, and stakeholders. When an event is photographed by means of an experienced professional, every image tells a story that aligns with the organization’s logo and values.

In vibrant hubs like Dubai and Abu Dhabi, in which the company landscape is particularly aggressive, standing out is essential. A skilled Dubai Events Photographer Videographer knows how to spotlight the sophistication and power of an occasion, capturing candid moments, key speakers, and audience engagement. Similarly, an Abu Dhabi Corporate Events Photographer focuses on showcasing the specific components of each event, from the grandeur of the venue to the complicated details that make the occasion memorable. These experts convey a keen eye for element and a deep information of composition, ensuring that each shot serves a cause.

Videography adds every other layer of storytelling to corporate activities. Motion captures the ambiance, interactions, and energy of the event in a manner that also photos can not. Whether it’s the dynamic actions of a keynote speaker, the applause of an audience, or the beauty of a product unveiling, expert videography preserves these reviews in brilliant element. Event films can be repurposed for promotional content, social media campaigns, or internal communications, maximizing the go back on investment for the occasion.

Beyond aesthetics, expert photographers and videographers additionally manage the technical challenges of event insurance. Corporate occasions frequently function complicated lighting, large crowds, and tight schedules. Professionals are ready with the tools and information to manage these demanding situations seamlessly, making sure steady quality across all snap shots and footage. Whether it’s a grand ballroom in Dubai or an open-air venue in Abu Dhabi, they adapt to the placing and deliver stunning consequences.

The cost of expert photography extends beyond the event day. High-pleasant visuals are important for publish-occasion promotions and future advertising and marketing techniques. They create a lasting influence on attendees and provide compelling content material for web sites, brochures, and social media platforms. For agencies aiming to strengthen their logo identification, investing in a Dubai Events Photographer Videographer or an Abu Dhabi Corporate Events Photographer guarantees that their activities are not handiest memorable however additionally impactful.

Corporate events are an opportunity to construct connections, rejoice achievements, and exhibit innovation. By leveraging the competencies of expert photographers and videographers, businesses can raise those occasions, transforming them into visual memories that encourage and interact. The expertise of a Dubai Events Photographer Videographer or an Abu Dhabi Corporate Events Photographer is a cornerstone of making an enduring legacy for any corporate gathering.