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honeyhoshi · 16 hours

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scarlet, starlet pt. 1

summary: mingyu intends to make his girlfriend's wishes come true — all of them.

this a part of the man of the match universe

genre: professional football (soccer) mingyu, idol oc, porn with a little plot

wordcount: 3,251

pairing: mingyu x afab!reader

warnings: DDlg kink, d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, afab reader, lots of mentions of female anatomy, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, making out, dry humping, finger sucking, fingering, squirting, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), slight cum play, cum eating, exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, dirty talk

author's notes: yet another work written for my lovely @madeforgyu! this is just part 1 of her birthday gift and is a part of the universe we have lovingly poured soooo much time and effort in. wuv u and all of that!

The excitement that comes with a new album and a comeback sometimes gets lost in just how complicated AM♡RE’s schedule has become. In between having to do pre-recording as a whole team, music shows would request certain members to be part of other variety segments which allowed other members to rest or even take on other schedules.

This led to fussy 4AM pre-recording sessions then running back to the company office to film overseas interviews and just napping during the car rides to and from one venue or another. By the time the whole team made it back to the KBS building for the live broadcast, the only thing fueling you was adrenaline and obligation. It’s a so-so way of celebrating your twenty-fourth birthday.

You try to shake it out of your system when you think of the cute pink drink truck that was parked by the entrance to the studio that your fans were enjoying. You think it could be a lot worse because you did catch a glimpse of the many birthday ads all over Seoul as you moved from one location to another.

But still, it could be better too.

With all the last minute activities and schedules being fit into every free moment you had in the past few weeks, it had been difficult to really set any celebration plans into stone with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

A pout makes itself present on your face the second you start thinking of him. Having Mingyu around would make everything that wasn’t ideal about your birthday just simply melt away.

At this point, a message from him would suffice. You’re no stranger to receiving and sending messages at odd times but after Mingyu’s good morning message, all your other texts had gone unread.

You’re wracking your head if he had mentioned anything scheduled today but you come up with nothing because you can clearly remember that he said he was taking the entire day off to celebrate with you.

The thought sticks even as you’re being ushered on stage and you only really snap out of it as you find yourself in front of the crowd, the rest of your members bowing and waving before you have to take your starting positions.

You shake it off, thinking instead of how you’re sure a message from Mingyu will greet you the moment you step off stage.

You’re greeted by something far better than a text message when the music cuts and you’re trying to catch your breath.

A large smile is still plastered on your face as the thrill and joy of performing courses through you. The cheers fill you with warmth and satisfaction, hoping that you had given a good performance for the live show’s crowd, but a voice cuts through the usual noise of fans.

There’s a booming voice coming from the side stage and a “That’s my girl!” that sets every nerve on your body aflame in embarrassment and pride in equal measures.

It’s your boyfriend.

It’s Mingyu.

A bright smile splits your face and you can’t help the flush that paints your face pink as the rest of your members turn to see the afternoon’s special guest. With everyone on stage giggling and whispering amongst themselves with their lapels turned away from their mouths, even the crowd was starting to realize that something out of the norm was going on.

You make your goodbyes quick, giving deep bows of appreciation, but the excitement coursing through your body can’t be contained.

Once your leader has deemed you polite enough, offering you a sympathetic smile and nodding towards the general direction of the backstage area, you can’t move fast enough.

You briskly walk towards Mingyu who, despite his effort at dressing to be discreet, is still the most eye-catching person in the room. Standing tall and proud in the hustle and bustle of the music show staff is the top scorer of the Cheongdam Diamonds, offering you the most wicked grin.

There are so many eyes around you. Looks of jealousy, resentment, and also awe are no longer strange when either you or Mingyu are in the room. Having both of you present just meant all of the above, but a hundredfold. None of that matters to you at all when you let out a squeal and jump into his arms.

You don’t care. You’ve stopped caring. Let them see.

You can no longer count how many bad ideas have become good ones when Mingyu whispers them into your ear. You can’t even remember a time you’ve said no to him and his clever ideas. Not that you ever would really, especially when Mingyu always makes it worth your time.

It starts innocently enough, as it always does with you and Mingyu.

The second you managed to drag him into your dressing room, locking the door behind him, you had peppered his face and mouth with as many kisses as you could as he giggled and whispered birthday greetings every time your lips parted.

In no time, Mingyu had managed to wrap your legs around his waist and was guiding you as you slowly rocked your hips down onto his. The friction was so delicious even through all the layers of your stage costume but you knew that this would hardly suffice for either of you.

“I fucking hate these shorts,” Mingyu says with a grimace as his hands find their way to your ass, upset to find the layer of your safety shorts standing in his way.

Mingyu has always hated it when he would reach down and find your smooth skin covered with a seemingly offensive piece of clothing. On most days you barely wore any underwear around the house, just the way he likes it.

You love the little look of annoyance in his face and trace the lines of his eyebrows as you sit pretty on his lap, “They’re there to protect me.”

Mingyu can only snort at that.

You roll your eyes playfully, “Imagine if we stopped wearing these, then everyone would see what’s yours, Daddy.”

You feel his frown relax underneath your finger, “We can’t have that now, can we?”

“Nuh-uh,” You answer, allowing Mingyu to guide your hips. Even through the stupid safety shorts you could feel how his cock was pressing against the zipper of his jeans and Mingyu always knew how to find the cleft of your center to ensure that you were grinding your clit onto him.

“Why’s that?” He whispers against your lips, tongue flicking out to lick at your upper lip for just a split second.

You bite your tongue at the pleasure slowly building up between your legs and how he’s teasing you with his tongue, “Because this is yours.”

He makes a face of faux confusion before asking, “What exactly is mine?”

“This pussy.”

“Good girl.”

In no time, Mingyu has you strip for him and you stand before him, completely devoid of your costume. In the back of your head you can already imagine the frustration of the staff member assigned to assist you with getting fully dressed again, but the look Mingyu gives you has you pushing the thought away.

He’s sprawled on the couch as if he owned it and you’re dying to fall to your knees between his spread legs, but the second you move to do so, Mingyu grabs your wrist to stop you.

“It’s my sweet girl’s birthday today, so we’ll do all the stuff you like,” He says, standing up and crowding you against the counters littered with different makeup brushes and pots of eyeshadow and powder puffs.

“But I want to suck your cock,” You state as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mingyu chuckles and you meet his eyes. You’re entranced.

“I know you do, love. But I don’t want you to bruise your knees when I’m dressing you back in that little skirt.”

He has a point and you frown, “How about tonight?”

He smiles as he brings three fingers up to your mouth, “Okay, I’ll even let you choke on it. Now suck on Dad’s fingers, get them nice and messy.”

You immediately let your mouth fall open and start to lap at the three fingers Mingyu offers you, savoring the salt of his skin and the rough pads of his fingers. If you tried hard enough you could pretend they were his cock, hard and smooth and so so delicious. Your little daydream has you salivating in no time, coating Mingyu’s fingers and lubricating them enough for what he’s no doubt about to do to you.

“Look at that little mouth go,” He marvels, “So small, three fingers can barely fit. Are you sure you can suck my cock?”

You’re shaken from your thoughts and immediately a look of distress spreads on your face, “Yes, it can fit! I can make it fit. You’ll make it fit, won’t you?”

Mingyu’s fingers are barely out of your mouth as you try to convince him. The look on your face makes Mingyu smile. It’s horrible and mean and you love it so much.

“Yeah, I’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure my baby will take it.”

You preen at the promise and wait in anticipation as he pulls his hands away from your lips and pressing his mouth against yours.

This kiss was not exactly a typical one. Instead of pressing your lips together, Mingyu licks into your mouth, his tongue bullying its way inside and pushing your own tongue out of the way. He runs this tongue against the roof of your mouth and against your teeth until you slowly start to press your tongue against his.

You groan in relief as he finally eases up to kiss you properly but tense up when you feel one of his hands grab at your left thigh to lift it up and prop it up on the counter. This position has you spread wide open for him. He loves it when he can see all of you.

The slick that’s been gathering between your folds is surely visible in this position and it makes you clench around nothing as Mingyu pulls away to survey you in this position.

“So so pretty,” He whispers underneath his breath, not even to you, just to himself, “Going to destroy this tiny pussy.”

That’s as much warning as you get before he presses two fingers into you at once.

Mingyu is bigger than most men in all aspects. He’s tall and broad, having put in so much time to get his physique to where it is now. His sheer size followed everywhere else. His fingers were long and thick and the press of two into your core has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Whether it was his cock or his fingers, you knew to always expect a stretch. And you loved it.

“Sooo good, Daddy,” is all you can muster as Mingyu sets a punishing pace that has you trembling in his arms in no time.

Each curl of his fingers sent a jolt down your spine that had you inching closer to the edge despite how Mingyu had just started.

“My pussy is taking two fingers so well,” He says, “I think three would be even better.”

You hate that he pulls his fingers out but you’re immediately placated when he brings the two fingers to his mouth to suck your slick off of them.

He makes a noise of delight before removing his fingers and leaning down. For a second you think he’s going to eat you out but instead Mingyu spits out the saliva and slick he’s collected in his mouth and lets it drip down from your clit.

He moves back to take in the absolutely debauched state of your pussy, smiling to himself, pleased at how messy he’s gotten you, before spreading the wetness with his soiled fingers.

“Are you ready for three, little girl?” He asks, almost mocking. You preen at the nickname and at the promise of the stretch of three fingers inside of you.

Even with the preparation he had given you, he punches a deep exhale from you and he pushes three fingers. The fit is so tight that you can feel how the rough pads of his fingers are. He always did refuse to wear gloves when he lifted weights. Now you want to thank him for it, because the friction inside you makes you want to scream.

It doesn’t help how slowly he’s going either. He’s relishing in how your walls wrap around his fingers, how you tighten up when he slips in a little further. And when he crooks his fingers just right, he can feel how you’re getting just a little bit wetter, slicker.

“You take me so good,” He whispers against your lips, so close it's almost a kiss.

You’re breathless though, mouth slightly ajar, waiting for his tongue to slither between your lips. He doesn’t make a move though aside from a cocky smirk and an arched brow.

Mingyu lets his fingers continue on with their noble job of getting you closer and closer to the edge. Each push and pull of his digits inside you set your nerves alight, but the delicate movement of his right hands make you want to die.

Even as he’s coaxing and orgasm with three fingers on his left hand, the fingers on his right are tracing delicate swirls and unrecognizable patterns along your inner thigh. Every now and then they’d go higher, just by the lips of your pussy.

The pace is much too slow for your liking and you’re worried that your absence would start to seem suspicious. You weren’t at Mingyu’s training center where everything is kept under lock and key with a very well written NDA. You were at Music Bank where staff members were nosy and there was surely another girl group member roaming the halls, praying for your downfall.

“Daddy, faster,” Is all you can manage in between kisses on Mingyu’s jawline, licking a stripe to taste the salt of his sweat and that underlying tinge of just him.

You don’t expect his free hand to come and grip the underside of your jaw, his fingers long enough to reach both sides of your cheeks. He applies just the right pressure to squeeze your cheeks and force your lips into a pucker.

It would be cute if not for the look on Mingyu’s face.

“This is a birthday gift, angel. Be good while I give it to you, hmm?” He says as he begins to pick up the pace.

In no time the pace is punishing, the only thing slowing Mingyu down is how each push of his fingers back inside of you required a stretch and each time your walls made space for him inside you, you let out a little whimper.

When Mingyu presses his thumb against your clit, adding to the already intense pleasure, you can barely keep it together. In no time you feel the telltale signs of an inevitable orgasm.

No matter the method, every single orgasm Mingyu has ever given you was mind blowing, and this would be no exception. You feel the wetness dripping down your ass before you’re comprehending what exactly has happened, having difficulty in processing the immense pleasure coursing through you, your eyes slipping shut at the feeling of cumming all over Mingyu’s fingers.

Your walls tighten around him, even as you spill into his open palm and he continues to push in and out, droplets falling to the floor beneath you and between his feet.

Mingyu’s eyes are fixed on your entrance as he keeps you filled, pleased with how stretched out you are, ready for him to just slip in.

He pulls his fingers out only to move them to cover your clit, gently rubbing, keeping you on the precipice of pleasure, not allowing you a moment to come back to Earth. You’re in that heady space only he take you.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch daddy fuck his cock into you,” Mingyu says with a light slap to your face.

He moves and lifts your other leg up, maneuvering your hands that are wrapped around him to hold yourself open, keeping you fully spread open and seated on the dressing room counter.

Mingyu grasps his cock and gives himself one, two, three pumps to ease the initial need for friction, before he taps the now leaking tip against your clit. A pearlescent drop of precum falls on the hood of your clit and you watch, helpless as he harshly swipes at it with his thumb.

You hiss at rough handling but are immediately silenced when he brings the thumb up and shoves it into your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to wipe the cum off his finger.

He grabs a fistful of the hair at the nape of your neck and smashes your mouths together. You love the way even his mouth seems to hold dominance over your own. The movements, no matter how unruly, are still just the right thing to get you going once more.

“We taste so good together, huh?” He whispers after fucking your mouth with his tongue. He pulls away slightly and lolls out his tongue to let a thick wad of spit fall from his lips down to your center.

The impact of the warm liquid has your gaping hole clenching around nothing.

It pleases Mingyu so much that he forgoes all the other teasing he initially had in mind and just guides the head of his cock to sop up the spit on your pussy before pushing in to the hilt in one thrust.

The blissed out sigh that you let out set him on fire.

Gone is the idea of long, languid strokes to stoke the fire in your belly. Instead he goes with a punishing pace that has high pitched cries slipping from your mouth.

His hands find the thickness of your ass to keep you in place, his hips doing all the work of rearranging your guts. In this angle and position, he can see how the head of his cock bulges in your abdomen slightly. It if was possible, he would have gotten harder.

Having already been so sensitive from hardly being able to come down from your first orgasm, Mingyu’s actions had you reeling into your second one in no time.

“My princess deserves to come already,” Mingyu says, slightly breathless, leaning his forehead on yours “Dad wants this pussy to never let him go.”

You nod in agreement, “It's yours forever. I love you.”

It almost seems pathetic for him to cum at those words, but it's a spectacular orgasm as he pulls out until only the head of his cock is inside you before he slams his hips flush to yours and letting himself flood your pussy with his cum.

You’re delirious as he keeps you steady, pulling out so slowly to make sure you keep every single drop of him inside of you.

“Keep it in until you get home,” He says, “I want to slip right in the second you get through the door and still feel me inside you.”

You press your lips to his once, twice, and a third one for good measure before nodding excitedly.

“It’s your gift to me. I won’t let a single drop go to waste.”

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 GUYS I JUST READ THE CUTEST FAN ACCT FROM TODAY'S MUBANK WTFFFF

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 There's a special guest at today's live performance!! After the Midas Touch recording there was a really loud and DEEP cheeer coming from backstage. The members were all looking to see who it was ijbol!!

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 Ahreum was so happy when she figured out who it was that after bowing and greeting fans she left the stage but her mic was still on!!

huhu our baby was probably so happy and giggly as she always is! the op of the fan acct thinks its Mingyu!!

thank you Mingyu for loving and taking care of our precious Ahreum! 🥹🫧🩷

remy @ahreumtouch • may 8 CONFIRMED WTFFFFF 😭😭😭 Mingyu was seen leaving Music Bank today!!

SIR U R A FOOTBALLER U HAVE NO REASON TO BE AT MUSIC BANK IF NOT FOR UR IDOL GF!!

#frizzy fiction #seventeen smut #svt smut #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #au: man of the match

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days

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Something I have seen in a few fics and is very near to my heart. Tim Drake Has Birds. Not just any birds, but a gaggle of Crows and Ravens and others. That's what everyone says. But what if he had *more*.

Sure it starts with him befriending 4 or 5 ravens/crows but both are smart kinds of birds and very social as well. They seek out others to play with after all. So if Tim was kind to them and fed them and even helped one of them heal after it got a broken wing (the others led Tim to their injured friend while screaming) then they would certainly spread news to other birds that Tim is safe and a friend. Plus, when any of those birds he befriended has kids? They will teach their babies that Tim is Kind and Trustworthy.

Eventually Tim's flock spreads from just being Crows and Ravens to adding pigeons and grackles and Sparrows and even a few blue Jay's and a couple owls! After all, if Tim starts befriending them about the time (or even before) he starts stalking the family by the Time he's Robin he's gunna have So Many Birds. Tim does his best to hide this from the other Bats because he thinks they will try to make him get rid of them like the one time his parents found him petting a Raven in the backyard.

Tim hides his birds from everyone the best he can and has taught some of them helpful tricks in the field that he can only use when alone. Only a handful can do them, but a handful is more than enough. Such commands are Follow That Person, Bring Me That, Poop On That Person, and other such things. Only three of them understand his favorite trick. Take This Match, Strike It, And Drop It On What I Point At. Sometimes he lights goons on fire, sometimes he lights dumpsters on fire. Either way, a perfect distraction for hoards of goons.

Many of them also have tiny harnesses that can't be seen through their feathers that have cameras on them. Sometimes Tim will have a bird follow a Rouge around for a while because really, who would notice of a specific bird is following them?

The three that are best trained and are totally not Tim's favorites, are the three he has in his civilian identity as well. He only debuted his "pets" are he took over as CEO of WE. On his right shoulder rides a *well* above average size Raven named Huggin and on his left is an equally massive Raven named Munnin. Yes, he did name them after Odin's two ravens from mythology. The last one does not come to work with him like Huggin and Munnin, but stays at home and is in fact part of Tim's Home Security. Guinevere the Agressive Swan. She will attack anyone and everyone that isn't Tim and the moment she spots a person who Shouldn't Be There, she is out for *blood*. The only people she tolerates are Brenard, Kon, Cassie, and Bart. Even Damian with his mastery of animals will get attacked by her.

That's such a cute AU! I want to add an that, because Tim is taking care of pigeons, their lifespan increases as well (idk much about other birds so maybe them too). Pigeons were originally domesticated animals. They live 1-2 years in the wild and up to 15 as a pet.

I would also love to see the ravens intimidate the hell out of other people at Tim's work. The birds are just staring intensely at someone Tim doesn't like as they try to get through a meeting. It's an effective tool for the CEO to get what he wants or needs from opponents (ravens are adorable, but huge. I'd be terrified if one just kept staring at me visibly prepared to attack).

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au

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isaksbestpillow · 2 days

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Ossan's Love Returns eng sub masterpost

The legendary queer ossans who paved the way for the post-2018 Japanese bls are back! Haruta and Maki have progressed from coworkers to husbands but their life is still as chaotic as ever and the people around them all kinds of unhinged.

Please watch my favourite show! This is an independent second season so you can jump right in without having seen the previous material. The acting is top-notch, the writing clever and the editing hilarious. This is a laugh-out-loud funny, feel-good show about aging, love, and chosen family.

You can also watch the show on Gagaoolala, but their subs are somewhat incoherent at times and leave a lot to be desired. There are also many jokes and references to Japanese language and popular culture that may go unnoticed, which is why I have included notes for all episodes in this post.

I have a kofi but I appreciate a little comment just as much.

Links and notes under the cut.

How to download:

Download all files onto your computer. Make sure they are in the same folder. You cannot stream the subs on Google drive.

The subtitle file will auto-play on VLC Media Player as long as it has exactly the same name as the video file. It may not be supported by some other players.

Do not reupload to any streaming sites.

Episodes

Episode 1

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Episode 2

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Episode 3

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Episode 4

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Episode 5

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Episode 6

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Episode 7

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Episode 8

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Episode 9

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Special episodes

Haruta & Maki's first night as newlyweds (Tver special)

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Telasa spin-off part 1

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Telasa spin-off part 2

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Episode notes

Episode 1

The first dream of the year (hatsuyume) is said to predict the year.

Shiritori is a word game where you can’t say a word ending in N or you lose. For example: imo - mori - risu - sushi - shio - ossan (lose)

Bashauma Cleaning literally means Carriage Horse Cleaning, but it's a reference to the idiom bashauma ni hataraku, work like a (carriage) horse, so I've translated it to include the joke.

Yabusame is Japanese horseback archery.

Nandeyanen: a classic reply in manzai (stand-up comedy with two people). I had to replace it with something situational.

Hierarchy between supervisors goes kakarichou (Haruta), kachou (Maki), buchou (previously Kurosawa, now Takekawa). I’ve translated buchou to chief just because it’s short, so my translations may not correspond to anglophone hierarchy.

Episode 2

Kurosawa uses hyper formal and humble customer service language at all times, which is weird coming from your old boss since seniority plays a big part in Japanese communication. I’ve tried to retain some of it in the translation since it’s a running joke and a huge part of his character in this season.

In Japanese rock paper scissors (janken) the winner can hit the loser on the head with a toy hammer and the loser has to guard.

Urusee kuchibiru: Kuchibiru is lips. Urusee can have a million meanings from noisy to annoying to picky to fuck off so it was hard to land on a single translation when the full context of this line isn’t yet given. I decided to go with pesky lips since it kind of covers all bases.

Episode 3

Hirugao (japanese bindweed) was a popular drama about cheating that aired in 2014. Hirugao is a reference to a somewhat new idiom heijitsu hirugao tsuma (weekday japanese bindweed wife) that means a wife who cheats while her husband is at work. It was also nominated as one of the trend words of 2015, so I decided to keep it as it is.

Kin'youbi no tsumatachi e ('to friday wives'), also known as Kintsuma, was a popular relationship that aired in the 80s. Making references to popular culture seems to be Kurosawa's thing.

Sontaku: A word that became popular after the Moritomo gakuen political scandal in 2017 and is often used jokingly. I didn't translate it because there is no simple translation as it is a cultural concept rather than just a word and I wanted to maintain the scandal link. Here is a wikipedia page about sontaku. Basically it means to do something the other person wants you to do without them saying they want you to do it.

Convenience store restrooms usually have a poster that says something along the lines of thank you for always keeping the restroom clean.

Dogeza: the ultimate kneeling apology. Not actually used anymore sans some press conferences after a major fuck up.

Before you become a memory, show me your smile one more time: This is actually a Spitz lyric. Takekawa-san's Twitter account is also a reference to Spitz. Here is the song:

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Episode 4

Akito & Haruta: Aki means autumn, haru means spring

Kikunosuke: Kiku means chrysanthemum, the flower of the emperor, so it’s a very regal name, as is Kiku-sama.

Oniisan: Kiku has a habit of calling everyone oniisan/older brother. It’s normal to call strangers oniisan but Kurosawa is a bit past the oniisan age lol.

Soiya, soiya, sore, sore: These are cheers. The scene is a reference to this song from the 80s:

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The bachelor is a cameo by Dean Fujioka.

Shougi: Japanese chess

Teppei’s pun song: o-shiri, o-shiri, hey Siri, douka o-shirioki kudasai ore wa omae no otousan janai. O-shiri means butt so that’s the pun here.

公安 kouan ‘public safety’: I’ve translated this to NSB (national security branch) because I needed a short word that people might repeat many times without getting the meaning. In a previous episode Haruta had to google what kouan is. I dont know how security and intelligence services differ across countries so please don’t pay too much attention to this particular word.

Vivant: A popular suspense drama that aired in 2023. Hayashi Kento who plays Maki actually appears in it haha.

Winter Sonata: A Korean drama from 2002 that was immensely popular in Japan and started the Korean wave

Yong-sama: Japanese fans’ nickname for Bae Yong-joon who starred in Winter Sonata

老々介護 rouroukaigo: Literally 'old old caregiving’. This means an elderly person caring for another elderly person. It’s becoming a social problem in Japan and Takekawa-san is haunted by it at the moment.

Episode 5

The raffle guy is a cameo by Dave Spector. He’s an American tv personality based in Japan and known for his puns.

Happi is a tube-sleeved coat worn during events.

I made everyone swear quite a bit in the ryokan battle scene because they were using the vulgar speech register (except poor Izumi-san).

There were many puns in this episode. I tried to translate them all to the best of my ability, but here they are in Japanese:

akan desuka aka wa ‘is red not good’, translated not red not your color

Wariine Dietrich 'Thanks Dietrich’, translated to thanks a latte

Atamitte attakami 'Atami is warmth’, translated to Sea You in Atami

Hageshiku doui: strongly agree; hage doui: bald agrees, translated to nod nod nod, bald nods (or something along those lines, I forgot lol). This is an iconic line in Japanese and got used a lot in the fandom. It's really common to come up with portmanteau words in Japanese so hage doui sounds like a valid abbreviation for hageshiku doui but the meaning is unfortunate. Hage is commonly used as an insult.

When Kurosawa is not in his customer service mode, he uses a lot of zoomer and internet slang. Kibonnu: internet slang for please originating on 2chan. Ma: short for 'majide', seriously. Kawachii: a new way of saying kawaii, cute. I tried to recreate his speech patterns the best I could.

Daruma-san ga koronda 'the daruma doll fell over’, a game similar to red light, green light.

Nanmaida: colloquial namu amida butsu, a Buddhist chant

Azatoi: Haruta gets called this by Kiku. I translated it to coy due to lack of space, but it’s a cultural word so the meanings may not match entirely. Azatoi is someone who performs cuteness for personal gain. The official subs translated it to 'idiot’, so yeah that’s what you’re paying for…………………..

Episode 6

Valentine's Day is a pretty big deal in Japan. Traditionally, women are supposed to give chocolate to men and men are supposed to return the favour a month later on White Day. Many people actually find this exchange stressful because of giri choco, 'obligation chocolate' given to all male co-workers. In recent years the popularity of giri choco has been steadily falling and it has even been banned in many workplaces, and now many women are instead giving friendship chocolate to their friends. The opposite of giri choco is honmei choko (true love chocolate) given in a romantic setting.

The wedding planner is a cameo by Crazy Coco. She's an ex flight attendant who does comedy videos on Instagram. Please pay attention to the non-Japanese pronunciation of English loan words in this scene.

Sukima Switch: This is the name of the band who contributed the theme songs for both seasons so I left it untranslated. Revival from season 1 plays in one of the scenes.

Nukazuke: A type of preserved food made by fermenting vegetables in rice bran (nuka). The pickling bed is called nukadoko. Nukadoko is a living organism that you can keep using forever as long as you take care of it. There are nukadoko that have been passed down for generations.

Takenoko no sato & Kinoko no yama ('bamboo shoot village' & 'mushroom mountain') are two types of chocolate by Meiji sold at every supermarket. You have dog persons and cat persons, mountain persons and beach persons, takenoko persons and kinoko persons. So it's not just any random chocolate, it's an ordinary everyday product that everyone has an opinion on.

Episode 7

The title of the episode (How do you live) is also the title of a novel by Yoshino Genzaburou and the Japanese title of Miyazaki’s The Boy and the Heron. I’ve been lazy and not translated the previous titles but this one felt important enough to include.

Fukuro/bukuro: bag

Isshou isshoni itekureya: When Izumi completes Haruta’s sentence after asking him about Maki, the line is a lyric from Lifetime Respect by Miki Douzan. It was a big one hit wonder in 2001.

youtube

Single mothers are some of the most socially disadvantaged groups in Japan and their plight is only worsening. 50% of single-parent households live in poverty.

Drag/drug are pronounced the same in Japanese (doraggu).

Anta: This is a rude second person pronoun that stands out because Izumi is usually well-mannered at work and never calls Haruta anything but Haruta-san. I obviously couldn’t translate it literally since it literally just translates to you, so I made Izumi say bullshit.

They make you drink barium at the annual health checkup to screen stomach cancer.

Episode 8

Ending note: This is an English word made in Japan. It’s a bit like an informal will with no legal standing to reflect on your life or express your wishes for your funeral.

Toketsu: blood vomit Tooru futatsu: two talls (Kiku-sama’s rice ball size), hence the slip of the tongue

When you fall, fall forward: originally said by 19th century revolutionary Sakamoto Ryouma

Tabelog is the biggest restaurant review site in Japan.

Episode 9

There were once again numerous puns, word plays and funny expressions in this episode, I did my best. The squid game one was impossible however so I’ve explained it in the subs.

Pokapoka: Onomatopoeia for something that’s nice and warm, such as a mild sunny day. I feel like this line lost some of its charm in English unfortunately. :(

Haganezawa Iruka: Iruka means dolphin. This character has a painfully fake American accent.

The book Maika is reading is titled Heya to Y-setsu to watashi, Room and Y-setsu and Me. Y-setsu is code for waisetsu which means pornography lol.

The Japanese title for My Neighbour Totoro is Tonari no totoro, next-door totoro.

Makkuro kurosuke are the soot sprites seen in Ghibli’s films.

Engacho: Maki does this to Kurosawa. It’s something kids do after touching something disgusting.

TVer special

It’s common in Japan for the wife to handle all family finances and only pay the husband an allowance. I’ve seen some queer couples do it too.

Telasa spin-off 1

This is Sumikkogurashi:

Yakatabune: a fancy Japanese boat for cruises

bubble generation: the generation that entered the workforce at the height of the bubble economy

Telasa spin-off 2

Tsumagoi is a town in Gunma prefecture known for cabbage.

Ikebukuro (‘pond bag’) is a commercial district in Tokyo.

Hotei Tomoyasu is a renowned guitarist. I think Takekawa-san was maybe trying to perform the theme from the yakuza film Shin jingi naki tatakai/New Battles Without Honor and Humanity. I don’t recognise his lyrics from any Hotei song lol.

youtube

Akito and Izumi talk to each other using vulgar speech. It's very different from how Izumi interacts with others.

Maro calls Kikunosuke too kenage. I translated this to persevering but honestly there isn’t a word in English that quite captures the full meaning of kenage. Kenage means heroic or brave but it’s used to praise a weak or powerless person showing courage in the face of adversity, such as a child, so it's not really a compliment.

Ribbon and Nakayoshi are shoujo manga magazines.

The lifetime together line is again a reference to the one hit wonder Lifetime Respect.

#ossan's love returns #my subs #my translations #Youtube

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liketheinferno2 · 18 hours

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These aren't full ref sheets but I was trying to take some clear pictures of Hephaistos for later art reasons and then got side tracked doing all of the Pandaemonium bosses so here they are in order. Also for anyone following who doesn't play FFXIV and knows it as the catgirl game, enjoy this instead? VISUAL SPOILERS obviously.

Asphodelos

Warder of the Condemned: Erichthonios

Mythic Creation: The Hippokampos

Mythic Creation: The Phoinix

(+ familiars)

Hemitheos: Hesperos

(+ sexy fanfic redesign by Nemjiji)

To be brutally honest I never really liked either of these designs compared to every other Hemitheos we get, I think the really brutal black and red of the Phoinix is weakened by gold accents, but I still am always down for gay vampire surf rock. The Savage version kind of looks like Ultimalius as well if you've played XVI.

Abyssos

Mythic Creation: Proto-Carbuncle

Hrgrhhgrhrgrh

Hemitheos: Hegemone

^ My favourite detail on this is you can see the parasite's outlines in her robes and in her legs, then right through the eye holes on the mask to wrap around the torso. I'm convinced this version of Hegemone is functionally an ant being piloted by a cordyceps infection.

Hemitheos: Agdistis

She's very big

Perfect Imperfection: Hephaistos

I'm probably biased by Abyssos being the first raid I was there for day of release but these really are all fantastic. It's also when the story abandons all pretense of not being (at least partly) about family abuse and is loudly using the body horror and shackle motifs to talk about that. It's great. Hephaistos specifically is constantly bulging and twisting in and out of different forms like a highly unstable chimera and the more I look at these the more I notice parts that just should not be there. He's giving everything.

As for the Savage design It's a hard thing to rate as such but my favourite part is the veins that grow down from the eyeholes in his mask like bloody tears.

Thanks Abyssos I love you

Anabaseios

Mythic Creation: Kokytos

Dæmoniac Dungeon: Pandæmonium

It's really hard to communicate how huge this nasty tumor crab I zoomed out as far as physically possible in the game engine and subsequently ended up at a goofy angle staring up his nose.

Ephemeral Justice: Themis

Best boy. The double ended lance and second pair of arms are fantastic for this character.

Theos: Athena

In.. almost every final fantasy adventure you're fighting the real villain not at the very end but a little beforehand, the big iconic end boss is often more a metaphorical figure representing everything wrong with that first person's ideals. Athena cut out the middle man and became her own JENOVA.

I do like the moth angel, especially the hollow body full of dubious orbs, but with her eyes closed all the time it gives off the impression of this not even being the true body but some kind of anglerfish lure in the shape of a fairy... which might be true because this exists:

I really really love her twitchy anemone feelers and how the moth body ends up grafted to the rest of it waist down.

Anyway there's the gang I did not specifically intend for this to be design reviews I just wanted to have clear photos because when you actually see them in game there's other things to focus on. In hindsight I can appreciate more the theming of each tier and then the series as a whole, but my only (extremely obvious) observation for now is that every character Athena had a personal hold over is decorated in chains somehow and so I should have seen the Hegemone thing coming lmao. Heph and Aggy are still my favourites I don't think that's changing any time soon. I'm also noticing that Anabaseios is now just old enough for random DF parties to fuck up severely and I find that fun so I'm going to go fight the crab mansion now.

#ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #pandaemonium #ff14 #let him speak #dante plays catboy simulator #Erich's transformation is unlike everyone else here he can just do that normally #none of the body horror is present that's just what he looks like when he's not a little guy in a robe #but I do find it really fascinating that you get with these Ancient characters a second symbolic body #and his is completely wrapped up in chains there's a hole in his heart #and the little plinth on his head where his dad's mask sits #Heph's designs are all very unnatural though and I think the reason I love it so much is just how much all of it screams pain and misery #Not an outwardly depressive character but just look at this dude #fun in comparison to athena who has made herself into a glowing white angel with three different halos and one has a crown #it's such an egotistical design lmao

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ginnymoonbeam · 2 days

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It's a rare show that can pull off a "he likes someone else, I need to back off" misunderstanding and leave me fully in sympathy with the character instead of just a little frustrated, but At 25:00 in Akasaka has nailed it.

First, Shirasaki did actually see the signs! He started to think, "hey, does he like me?" and even though it's hard to believe, he ends the evening on "maybe he really does."

Then, even after his confidence is shaken by hearing about Hayama's mysterious long-time crush, he talks himself around to the very reasonable conclusion that even if Hayama liked someone before, maybe it's changed. That turn makes such a huge difference to how the end heartbreak lands, because he really fought through that first discouragement.

He doesn't give up until he hears Hayama say directly that he still has feelings for that person - who logically, as far as Shirasaki knows, cannot be him. Shirasaki doesn't even remember whatever encounter they had at university that left such a strong impression on Hayama. As far as he knows, they've only really known each other since the series started. Hayama likes someone, and it can't be him. And he does have another explanation for Hayama's behavior toward him: it's all for the show. It's part of the agreement they made, to help him get into character.

And think how awkward things might be if he confessed now, while they still have to play a romantic drama together! For once I really don't think he could do anything else, given what he knows, than back away and end their workshop-dating arrangement.

100% heartbreak, 0% "oh my god you dummy why don't you just... " Exquisite.

#25 ji akasaka de #at 25:00 in akasaka #ginny watches

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corazondebeskar-reads · 1 day

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the art of breaking: part two

the art of breaking, part two: theory of decay

very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. this fic contains themes of abuse and extremely dark content.

words: 10k

summary: joel knows just how to make you his forever. a sequel to "the art of breaking"

warnings (new warnings in red) and story under the cut; reader discretion is advised.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, glory hole, reader gives tommy a blowjob (joel and tommy do not touch), body modification, permanent marking, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, whipping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, vaginal, reader x other men, degradation, humiliation, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare, blink and you miss it piss "play," straight up abuse this time guys, overstimulation, forced eating, needles, voyeurism, objectification, human furniture/ashtray, cigarettes, consumption of non-food items, nipple/clit pumps, this one might be worse than the first idk sorry

Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it.

Please read responsibly.

i. dessication

When he goes to work, he leaves you free to roam the house and do your chores. For shorter trips out, he tends to put you in your cage. There’s no real reason, but it keeps you in a good place. You’re always softer, quieter when he gets back and lets you out.

He couldn’t do it all the time, of course. There are things needing to be done. Plus, every day, he gets to come home to you knelt, waiting by the door with dinner kept warm. He could afford a housekeeper, but then you’d have nothing to keep your mind and body occupied when he’s away.

Of course, sometimes he leaves you chained up in the basement. He can’t always be nice, after all. And the thing he loves to come home to most, second only to you kneeling at the door, is your exhausted body still tied where he left it, bearing the marks of his latest pleasure.

Sometimes, he just leaves you in stocks to contemplate all the raw kisses from his favorite whip. Sometimes, he has you pinned to the table with a vibrator strapped to your clit for the day. On the lowest setting—he’s not a monster.

Well. It starts on the lowest setting. He can do whatever he wants with it through a handy app. It was the only way Tommy could convince him to upgrade to a smartphone.

But today, you’re just set about neatening up. Neither you nor Joel are messy— though he does have a tendency to empty his pockets wherever he’s standing—and it’s not a huge house. You finish up early and have time to read while supper’s in the oven.

You’re already kneeling when you hear the key in the door, eyes down, hands behind your back, but you have to tense up not to flinch when you hear a second pair of boots.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” drawls a voice you don’t know.

The only reason you don’t panic is because Joel’s boots enter your field of vision. You’re intimately acquainted with them—literally—and despite the fresh layer of dirt, you’d know them anywhere.

“Ooh, damn, she’s good,” says the voice.

Joel chuckles and reaches down to stroke your cheek. “Told ya.”

You melt a little against his hand, letting the pride in his voice warm you.

He rubs his thumb over your cheek and lets you press a little kiss to the digit before stepping back to take his shoes off and dump the handful of change and crumpled receipts on the foyer table. “C’mon,” he says, snapping his fingers so you know he means you, too.

You resist the urge to look at the stranger, but you don’t like the way he lingers to follow you instead of following Joel. You can feel his eyes on your exposed flesh, the dress just short enough to show off your cunt when you crawl.

No one has ever come into the house before. At least not when you’re out and about. You don’t know if Joel’s had company while you’ve been in the basement or something; you’ve never even thought about it. All you know is that it’s been a long time since you’ve seen another person.

It’s terrifying.

You go to kneel between Joel’s feet, but he stops you. “Turn around,” he says, guiding you with firm hands to face forward.

He laughs when he sees that you’re still staring very carefully at the carpet. “Y’can look at him; he ain’t gonna bite.”

The other man, who has settled in the armchair facing the couch, laughs too. “I might,” he says.

“No, you won’t.” Joel’s voice goes hard for a moment, and you don’t need to see to know he’s glaring.

It makes you feel better. So what if someone’s looking at you? Joel’s still protecting you.

He lifts your chin up so you have to look at the other man. He’s broad, though not as much as Joel, with dark curls and dark eyes that make you feel like he wants to cut you open and see how you tick.

“This is my little brother, Tommy,” Joel says. “Go tell him hello.”

“Hello,” you say quietly.

“C’mon, now, go give him a proper greeting,” Joel nudges you with his foot. You crawl over to Tommy and kneel between his legs. Your gaze darts from him to Joel, teeth worrying at your lip.

“Don’t embarrass me, girl,” Joel warns.

Tommy lifts your chin with his hand. “He wants you to suck me off. Go ahead.”

It’s nice, but it’s not his permission you need. You risk one more glance at Joel.

“You heard him. You got two seconds, sweetheart, before you’re gonna regret it,” he growls.

“You goin’ soft? You usually have ‘em trained better by now,” Tommy teases, but his words have Joel seeing red.

You sit back. “What?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, did you think you were special?” Tommy says with a nasty smirk. He pats your face. “Poor thing.”

You look at Joel, tears welling up.

“What, you think I had a house full of equipment that’s never been used? Y’should be grateful. All my toys before you had to suffer some trial and error. I got it perfected now, and you’re wasting it, being a fuckin’ disobedient bitch.”

You close your eyes tight and choke back a sob. He’s never, ever spoken to you like that before. When you turn back to Tommy, you have your mouth open wide and waiting.

He leans back. “Well? You gonna make me do all the work?”

“Can I use my hands, please?” you say, eyes darting from Tommy to Joel.

“Great, now you got her all nervous,” Tommy bitches, and Joel rolls his eyes.

“Go ahead,” Joel tells you gruffly. You’ve been so good. So obedient. Maybe he shoulda warned you that he wanted to show you off. No, he thinks, it’s not his fault. He didn’t owe you a warning. You should just accept it and obey.

You’re shaking when you tug open the button of Tommy’s jeans, fumbling with the zipper. Apparently, it takes long enough that he grunts and knocks your hand away, pulling his cock out.

It feels like a trap. Joel has not explicitly ordered you to do this. But he doesn’t usually try to trick you.

“For Christ’s sake,” Tommy snaps, and yanks you forward. You get with the program quickly, wrapping your lips around him and trying to do your best.

He’s smaller than Joel, but it’s a decent cock. Not that it matters to you. Despite not having to gag on him, you can’t breathe anyway, too preoccupied. Why is Joel doing this? Is he going to punish you for it later?

And the worst thing, the thing that keeps bouncing around your brain as you try to get Tommy off: What happened to the other girls? Did he get tired of them and kick them out?

Was he not going to keep you?

You don’t notice you’re crying, but Tommy clearly enjoys it. He moans and holds you down as he cums down your throat. You aren’t ready, though, and sputter a little, coughing and leaking his cum down your chest.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snaps. He gets up off the couch and yanks you away from his brother by the hair. “What the hell's the matter with you today?”

“I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Shut up,” he says, and drags you out to the place you visit in most of your nightmares, despite only having been there once in reality.

The Pit.

ii. consumption

When he comes to get you in the morning, you’re wrecked. Deflated, no more tears left to pour down your cheeks. For now, at least.

The sun is against his back when he opens the gate, reaching down for you with one strong arm. Bathed in the golden light, he is every inch your savior, and when you’ve climbed out on shaky legs, you prostrate yourself at his feet the way he likes.

He’s still mad, though, so he steps one filthy boot on your head and grinds your face into the mud. He pisses on it for good measure, the hot stream dripping down your hair and face onto the soil.

He’s got a switch in one hand. With you effectively pinned in place, he wastes no time in swinging it down on your ass.

You scream and sob as he beats you. When he finally stops, when he’s drawn every bit of his anger in welts against your skin, he lifts his boot from your head and squats down.

“Why d’you have to make me do this?” He’s solemn, sorrowful.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, focusing on controlling the hysterical sobs wrenching from your chest.

You don’t know what will follow, so you remain still, not daring to move without an order.

“I should drop you off at a fuckin’ whorehouse,” he mutters. He pulls you up by your hair, and you scramble to your knees. “You can learn to suck who you’re told to suck.”

“Please, sir, please don’t, please—” It’s too much. You stumble, sobs wracking your body hard enough that you can’t move. You collapse in the grass with his hand still holding your head up.

He lets go, letting you fall.

You crawl to his boots and kiss them, mud be damned. It wasn’t like you weren’t covered in it anyway. “Please, sir, I’m so sorry, please don’t—” you say between sobs.

“Please don’t what? You think you’re in any position to be askin’ for anything?”

“Don’t get rid of me, please; I promise I’ll be better; I can be good.”

“I’ll think about it, if you can fuckin’ earn it.”

“Please, please let me try to earn it.”

He squats down and helps pull you to your knees in front of him, cupping your filthy face in both hands. “I don’t wanna send you away. You know I love ya. But if you can’t be good, then what’s the point, baby?”

Your sobs are subsiding out of the pure elation that comes from his gentle touch. “I’ll do anything,” you whisper.

“I know ya will. You don’t really have a choice.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get you fed and taken care of. But you’re about to have one of the worst days of your fuckin’ life.”

You choke on a sob and sway a little. The fear and the hunger are like a fog over your brain.

“Hey. Listen t’me.” He holds your hands in one of his. “You’re gonna learn, and it’s gonna be real hard for ya. But at the end of it all— if you take it all like a good girl—you’ll be forgiven. Got it?”

You look up through tear-sodden lashes, lip quivering, and nod your head.

There’s no part of you anymore that registers an issue. No warning bells, no red flags, no hair raising.

You follow him to the bottom of the patio steps, where he nudges you to kneel back down, folding over so your face rests against the soil. You wait while he goes inside, unsure of how much time has passed until he comes back out with a plate of eggs, scrambled with cheese and little bits of sausage.

That raises some alarms. Not to the way he treats you, but more of a signal for what to expect. It’s protein-heavy, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it smells delicious. And there’s no way you’re getting to eat that after behaving so badly.

You’re half right. He squats down next to you and scoops up a bite with the fork. You don’t take the bait; you know that’s not for you.

He moans exaggeratedly when he chews, grinning all the while. And then he scrapes the rest off the plate into the dirt in front of your face.

“Ah, ah. Not yet,” he says, and you close your eyes at the sound of his zipper being yanked down.

“You get wet from that beating earlier?” he asks.

You nod, even though he’s already reaching down between your legs and shoving his fingers in your cunt. He brings back his shiny hand and strokes his cock.

“Look at me, baby,” he says, shifting onto his knees so when you open your eyes, you’re faced with his fist pumping away at the red, angry head. “Coulda been you. Shoulda been, but bad girls don’t get what they want.”

You whimper. It really does hurt your feelings, but you know you have nothing to say for yourself.

“Open. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and get some fresh.”

You obey immediately, squeezing your eyes back shut as soon as he starts to cum. A little bit lands in your mouth, which you hold open.

“You can swallow that. But don’t eat yet.”

He walks away, puttering around on the patio. You try to work up the nerve for his command, stomach churning. Maybe it’ll still taste fine. Maybe cold semen and dirt won’t ruin it that much. Maybe.

If you hadn’t earlier, you believed him now about it being the worst day of your life. He certainly wasn’t starting out small. Sure, you’d eaten off the floor before, but inside the house. The house you clean, so you know how sanitary it is.

But thinking about doing this makes you want to cry. And when he tells you to get started, you do cry. Just a little.

“You got about six minutes,” he says, checking his phone for the time instead of the eternally broken watch on his wrist, “and there better not be a single crumb left. Get your ass up here as soon as you’re done.”

You’re not sure how long it takes you, but it must be nearly the whole six minutes, because by the time you’re knelt at his feet on the patio, he says, “Cuttin’ it damn close, sweetheart.”

He’s playing fucking Candy Crush, legs kicked out on the little wooden table in front of him. He’s got you knelt at his side, and after a few minutes, he digs into his breast pocket and hands you a smushed carton of cigarettes.

You draw one carefully out of the pack and extend it to him, letting go once he’s pinched it between his lips and pulling out the lighter. Carefully, you ignite the tip for him and tuck it back away. You go to give the carton back, but he shakes his head.

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to blow smoke. “Hang onto that for me. And this,” and he hands you his coffee cup.

It’s not the first time he’s used you as a table. He tried using you as a footrest but found it less satisfying. You try to sit and work through your nerves, try to ignore the terror that he might not keep you if you can’t endure the day.

It’s a good thing that he drained you of any concept of dignity long ago, cut you open, and let it ooze away like pus from an infection.

“Open,” he says absently, not bothering to look away from his game.

Your eyes and mouth snap open, and he taps the cigarette against your lip, letting the ash fall onto your tongue. You jerk back a little but correct it immediately.

He quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll give ya a pass this time. But keep your mouth open, tongue out, and don’t fucking swallow.”

He’s clearly happy to spend the afternoon like this. He goes through a second cigarette and still doesn’t let you swallow or spit. Your knees ache from the planks of the deck.

He gets up and goes inside for a few minutes, taking his empty coffee cup with him. You don’t dare drop your position, though.

When he comes back out, he hands you a bottle of beer, condensation already dripping. He resettles to watch the game on his phone.

Anything resembling hope is trickling out. He hates watching things on the little screen, peering at it through his glasses. But he never smokes inside the house, so he’s resigned himself to this for the sake of your punishment.

It makes you feel less than the ash on your tongue.

By the time it’s over, your mouth has long gone dry, itching with the ash of four cigarettes, when he stands up and stretches. He leans down and holds your chin before spitting in your mouth.

“There ya go. Swallow.”

And you do. When you cough a little as the ashes cling to your dry throat, he pries your mouth back open and spits again.

It helps a little.

iii. dismemberment

You’d only been in the Pit once before. The first time was arguably your worst offense, which was good, Joel thought, that you still hadn’t topped that misbehavior.

But as glad as you are that it hasn’t happened a lot, it means you don’t really know what to expect. When he brings you into the ensuite, you know this routine enough that you kneel on the shower floor, barely flinching when he turns only the cold tap, and the faucet sputters to life.

He never gets in until you’re shivering, so while he gathers fresh clothes and towels, you scrub the mud from your body. When he checks and finds you satisfactory, he turns the knobs until the water runs warm.

Your shivers don’t subside for a few more minutes, though. Not until you’re practically done cleaning him with the spongey loofah. Hot tears burn in the corners of your eyes, though only a few slip loose.

When he turns around and takes it from you, you thank him for letting you wash him.

He gives you a smile, hand cupping your cheek.

“Of course, baby. Don’t worry. I’m going to help you remember how to be my good girl.”

But first, before he can follow up on the threat, he washes the mud and piss from your hair with gentle hands, massaging your scalp. You hold still, head tipped back, and let the tears come harder.

He notices but doesn’t comment. It’s normal now, when he takes care of you after a hard punishment. Or, in this case, in the middle of one.

You go to speak, to pour out your regrets and devotion, but he shushes you.

“I want you quiet ‘till I say otherwise,” he says. “Nothin’ outta you unless it’s an emergency. Got it?”

You nod, and he helps you to your feet, drying you with a soft towel and taking care around the raised welts on your ass. There will be some nasty bruises tomorrow, but when isn’t there? Your tits have mottled spots of yellow fading, and the shape of Joel’s hand around your throat basically never leaves.

He gives your raw, burning skin a sharp smack, sending you off to put on the dress he’s laid out for you.

He tells you nothing, just leads you to the truck. The drive is quiet, apart from the crooning voice on the radio. It’s a bit of a drive, and you park in a broken-up lot surrounded by rusty chainlink fence. He grabs your hand and takes you across the street to a dilapidated building. A cheap banner is tacked above one of the doors.

Joel hands a bill to a man, who opens the door just enough for you to squeeze in. It doesn’t take long to figure out where you are.

“Been a while since I brought you someplace nice, baby. Hope you like it, ‘cause we’re gonna be here most of the night.”

That’s the understatement of your life. He hasn’t taken you out of the house in over a year. You’re not sure you remember how to exist away from home, clinging to his arm as he leads you through the club.

You can’t decide what will be worse, but you don’t have to wonder for long when he drags you around to an empty stall. He’s not there to use a hole. You’re there to be one.

He clips your collar to the wall with just enough slack that you could pull back to breathe if the person on the other side doesn’t let you.

He takes the ring gag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “You need this, or are ya gonna be good?”

“I’ll be good,” you say immediately, a phantom ache in the hinge of your jaw.

“You sure? ‘Cause if you have to ask later or I have to make that decision myself, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper.

“Good.” He pats the side of your face, two sharp smacks in lieu of a caress. There will be no softness for you tonight.

He waits to talk to you until your mouth is full. You look miserable, but you don’t hesitate. It’s not to the standard he’d usually require, but you’re both aware of the hours ahead, so he lets you pace yourself.

He crouches down near you. “You like that? Some random dirty prick in your throat?”

You, of course, can’t answer, but your eyes close against the hurt.

“It’s fucking disgusting. You think I want to let just anyone use you? I could fuck any hole I want. I could go out there and have every cunt and ass and mouth. You know why I won’t?”

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t try to answer, don’t stop what you’re doing.

“Because they ain’t you, sweetheart. You’re my perfect girl. Nicest I’ve ever had. And if I got something this nice, and I don’t share it with my brother? You don’t even suck him off right? How do you think that made him feel, baby?”

He keeps it up, past the point where he feels like carrying on, but he can tell it’s wearing you down faster than the relentless facefucking. You’re starting to work your jaw, joints popping in between visitors, but even that doesn’t compare to the way you’ve started to shake when he’s scolding you.

“I know you’re tired, baby. I hope you remember this fuckin’ lesson because I’m not sacrificing two nights of sleep again to repeat it.”

You whimper around the stranger’s cock, which encourages them to fuck into you harder. But Joel knows the tears in your eyes aren’t from that.

“Yeah, you were bein’ selfish, huh? I couldn’t fuckin’ sleep with you out there, and now I’m up all night with you here.”

There it was, he thought, watching you break. A little too early; it was going to be tough to keep you going. But nothin’ did you in like the thought of having hurt him in the process.

And it was true. He never slept with someone out in The Pit. Too fuckin dangerous. He kept watch on a camera. He needed you scared and sorry, not dead.

He watches as you choke down the stranger’s seed, looking like you might retch. He shuts the little sliding door for a few minutes and gives you some water. After you’ve rehydrated and seem a little less green, he opens it back up.

“Alright, get ready for the next round.”

In the truck on the way home, he keeps you tucked close to his side. Between the dark, empty highway and his coat wrapped around you, you start to doze off.

He nudges you a little. “None of that now. Ain’t finished with you yet.”

You whimper, not in protest but in exhaustion. Despite how hard you try to fight it, you’re fast asleep when he pulls into the driveway.

He thinks about waking you up anyway, to follow through on his word. He carries you inside and up to the bedroom, still deliberating, but when he tries to set you down on the bed, you cling to him desperately, even in your sleep. He manages to wriggle the coat off you and lays down beside you. He’ll just let you both rest for a little while.

You wake up, mid-afternoon, shaking all over. Joel awakens moments later, eyes wide as he tugs on your arm to roll you over.

“Oh, baby,” he says, and moves to get out of the bed. “Knew I shouldn’t have let you go to sleep.”

But you grab onto him, lip trembling.

He knocks your hand away. “I‘ll be right back, jus’ hold on.”

You’re curled into yourself, sobbing, when he gets back three minutes later.

He hands you a water bottle anyway. “Sit up; you need to eat. It’ll help.”

Somehow, you find the strength to struggle and wriggle your body into sitting. He brings you to lean against his chest while he leans against the headboard.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a kiss pressed to your head.

You start crying hard all over again.

“I know. M’sorry. I should have talked to ya last night, huh? S’that what you’re all worked up about?”

You nod. There you are, sitting in his bed, when you hadn’t fucking earned it. But he doesn’t shove you off or hurt you for it; he just feeds you a protein bar and lets you sip at the water between bites.

After he’s given you the last of the bar, he has you slide down to your knees by the side of the bed.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I disobeyed and embarrassed you.”

“I didn’t ask you what you did wrong.”

“Oh,” you say softly, and have to think. “I didn’t understand, at first. That you wanted me to suck his cock.”

“And after you did?”

“I—” you don’t want to say it. You know he’s going to be mad. He doesn’t like when you question things like this.

“Is this because Tommy said you weren’t special? ‘Cause you know better.”

“No, I just… why did you get rid of the others? What did they do?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and cups your face in one hand. “I don’t think that’s anything you gotta worry about. Not anymore.”

“But how will I know how to do better?”

“You already are. None of ‘em ever made it this far. They talked big talk but couldn’t back it up. Some of ‘em didn’t want to give up the things you have, some of ‘em couldn’t handle my expectations. I told you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever had. You’ve let me make you exactly the way I want you to be.”

“Even though I was so bad the other night?”

“Yep. Because you took every consequence, and I know you’ve learned your lesson. And you’ll probably fuck up again someday. But if you keep wantin’ to be better, I’ll keep teachin’ ya.”

You can’t help but cry again. You’re so tired and so tired of crying.

“What, were you worried I was gonna replace you with some new young thing someday?”

You nod, and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m gettin’ old, sweetheart. I don’t want to keep breakin’ in toys that ain’t worth my time. I just finished puttin’ you back together exactly the way I like ya. You stay my good girl, and you’ll be mine ‘till I die.”

It doesn’t stop your tears.

“Hey,” he says. “What do you need?”

It startles you. “What?”

“What do you need? What’s gonna make you feel better, baby?”

You’re not sure when the last time you’ve had to think about something like that is. He’s been taking care of you for so long now.

“Whatever you want,” you say.

“No, baby, that’s not what I’m asking.”

“That’s my answer, though,” you realize. “I need to feel whatever you want me to.”

“God damn,” he whispers. “I fucked you up, huh?”

Your lip trembles.

“No, baby, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just kinda incredible. Jesus. How could you think I’d ever get rid of you? There’s not a fuckin’ bit of you that isn’t mine.”

Your cheeks burn, so you bury your face into his palm and press a kiss to the center.

“You want to know what I want, is that right?”

You nod.

“I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth. And then I want to order us some fuckin’ takeout and eat it in the bath.”

It makes you smile just a little.

“Yeah? That sound good, baby?” His thumb rubs against your cheek.

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, open up for me.”

You wrangle yourself into position. The initial weight and taste of him sends warmth through your bones for the first moment since he dragged you outside.

It’s sloppy, the way he fucks your throat, in a way it usually isn’t. It’s always messy, but his thrusts are erratic. You can’t keep up with his pace because there simply isn’t one. It’s not long before he’s holding you down and pumping his cum down your throat.

It trickles down and cleanses everything in its path. You’re lighter, like you can breathe again. You thank him sweetly, pressing a kiss to his twitching cock.

He’s panting, but strokes your cheek with one hand. “That’s my good girl. Feel better now that I washed all those other guys outta your mouth?”

Technically, he had done that last night, had shoved three soap-covered fingers in your mouth in the gross club bathroom. Wretchedly, it had the side effect of making you nauseous, and he had insisted on doing it over after you threw up.

But this felt more pure to him, more consecrational in a way. The soap might have cleared the actual evidence away, but his come was your wine and wafer.

“Yes, sir,” you say into the flesh of his thigh where your head rests. You kiss there for good measure, eliciting a pleased hum from him that sends you preening a little.

He lays back on the bed, leaving a hand on the top of your head to stroke your hair while the other gropes around for his phone. “What do you want, baby? Lo mein?”

“Oh, yes, please.”

He feeds you noodles in the bath and then eats you out until you fall asleep.

iv. reduced to bone

You’re on your knees in the basement, bent forward over a metal pipe placed at just the right height to nestle into your hips and keep them tilted up in the air. Stocks hold your head and wrists in place, tits hanging just below. The wood is slowly dampening as you drool around the ring gag.

“Got a surprise for you, baby,” he had said when he led you down. “You know how you keep beggin’ me to hurt you worse, and I have to keep tellin’ you I’m not tryin' to wear you out?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Well, I think you’re going to like this.”

That had been… well, you’re not entirely sure. A while ago, maybe, but your brain wasn’t the best judge of time right now. After he had secured you here, he had dragged out the little machine. It’s sitting under your torso somewhere, thin clear tubing stretching out like a web he’d caught you in.

There’s no noise but the hum of it, which you’ve gone pleasantly numb to. The pressure is unending, each nipple and your clit being tugged into the tiny cups relentlessly.

It tingles, just on the side of too gentle to be fulfilling on its own. That’s okay. You’re pretty sure you’ll be in delicious, mind-shattering agony soon.

This you know because, well, it’s Joel, but also because of the tools he’s laid out on the little wheeled cart and left for you to stare at.

A thin cane. Clover clamps with a length of chain. A tawse with a tapered, pointy tip. A wand.

It makes you dizzy to look at.

Also, you know because it’s a Friday night. Joel enjoys you however he likes any day of the week, but he’s careful about saving the deepest of his cruelties for Fridays. Because mind-shattering wasn’t really an exaggeration. When he gets like this, you sometimes don’t surface enough to take care of yourself for a day or two.

On those occasions, he never leaves you alone. Doesn’t want to, both because he loves when you need him that deeply and because you’re so soft and pliant. Truthfully, he thinks he could do anything to you then and you’d thank him for it.

Which is why he’s got Tommy coming over tomorrow. It’s not that he thinks you need to be out of it to avoid a repeat of last time. He knows you learned your lesson and you’ll be good.

But he’s got something special in mind that he needs help with. It’ll just be easier for everyone if you’re at your most agreeable.

And yeah, you owe Tommy a blowjob. One of the ones that make Joel feel like he mighta died and somehow gotten through the pearly gates by the grace of your devotion.

Plus, he’s pretty sure you’re going to love his plan, and he wants you unprepared, so you’ll cry real pretty and be truly desperate to show him your appreciation. It’s been on his mind since that night a few months back when you didn’t seem to believe him about never letting you go.

He’s never fucking letting you go. There’s nothing in this world that could take you from him. He’s made sure of it.

Sometimes, he has to remind himself that you don’t know you’re married.

He thought about telling you that night, so you’d understand the depth of the commitment he’s made. But he doesn’t want you to take it the wrong way. Doesn’t want you thinking you need to act like a wife .

He’d had a whole bucket of bullshit cooked up to excuse it, but when he told you to sign the paper, you hadn’t questioned it. Hadn’t questioned that you couldn’t see what it was, only the line where he pointed. You’d signed the fucking paper and never asked a goddamn thing.

He was glad. He didn’t like lying to you. This was just one of those hoops to jump through in a world that didn’t understand what you shared.

When he comes back down, your eyes are already glazed over. Your body shines with a thin layer of sweat, and your chest is heaving as you squirm. It’s gone beyond gentle. The waves of suction have you whimpering soft and high, barely louder than a breath, but nearly constant.

He chuckles and strolls over, crouching down to wipe the sweat off your brow with the bandana from his pocket before it gets in your eyes. You give him a truly pathetic look, eyes wide as you drool helplessly.

“Not so nice now, huh?”

You whine.

He strokes your cheek with an exaggerated pout before sliding two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue. It tries to curl around them, eliciting another cruel laugh.

“Jesus, girl. S’there anything that would stop ya from gagging for my cock?”

You shake your head. Even if you weren’t spread by the ring gag and choking on his fingers, you’re beyond speech. Too far deep.

Joel actually doesn’t mind when you talk. He’s got no rules restricting your speech (well, most of the time). As long as you’re respectful, he likes the company.

But he really likes when you go quiet like this. When he’s pushed you so far that you can’t .

“Look at you, all worked up. We haven’t even gotten started, baby. You gonna be able to take it?”

You nod, whining, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your cheek.

“What was that, baby? Couldn’t quite understand ya.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you whine again.

“I’m just teasin’,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I got ya. I know you’re gonna be my good girl and take everything I fuckin’ want.”

He reaches down and tugs the tubing until the cups pop free of your breasts. You cry out, but it turns into a desperate moan when he tugs the one off your clit.

Yeah, he coulda turned the pump off first so they just fell off, but where’s the fun in that?

He’s grinning wickedly as he reaches back up to your breast. He barely, just barely, brushes over the side of your nipple, and the sound you make goes right to his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so swollen.” He has to remind himself he’s playing the long game; he just wants to pinch and pull so badly. He’s pretty sure you’ll scream, even though normally it wouldn’t be much at all.

But he wants to fuckin’ torture you tonight, so he’s going to drag it out. He wants you incoherent and beaten down when he’s done, so far gone you’ll stay there for days.

So he’s gotta start soft. He drags his fingertip around your areola, not quite brushing the nipple but tracing the ring left behind by the cup. You twitch, shoulders jerking back, and he grips your breast.

“None of that, now,” he croons, letting go and switching sides to torment your other breast.

It’s holy, in that way you never quite understood. Not like the Jesus kind, though you never were much for church either, but in the way that people chase salvation through empty bottles and sharp needles.

With the wand and the tawse, he breaks you down again and again and again. But that’s the thing about Joel. He reduces you to pain or pleasure or the delicious apex of both that brews between your thighs, and then he cleans you back up, puts the pieces back where he likes them.

He makes you come until you cry, and then, when you’re sobbing and exhausted, that’s when the night really begins. You’re twitching and jerking at the barest contact, writhing with every snap of the cane.

It’s so, so good. Until it isn’t. But he’s running that damn mouth of his, that sweet, filthy mouth, and you can’t not take it. Your tears are gone, all run out; he likes to wring you dry. And he keeps rubbing his hand over your hypersensitive flesh, already raw and ruined, and murmuring soft words and sweet taunts.

“Look at you,” he croons. “My pretty little toy. You’re so beautiful, suffering for me like this, baby.”

And so you do. You suffer for him. There’s nothing left in your little subby brain right now but Joel Joel Joel.

You’re dry. He almost can’t believe it. The only time you’ve not been a sloppy, soaking mess was when he broke your finger.

He whistles low and slow. “Shit, baby. Guess you have some limits after all, huh.”

It’s impressive that you can even lift your head enough to shake it weakly. An overwhelming fondness washes over him.

“ Aw. Takin’ it for me anyway, were ya?” He comes around and squats near your head, unhooking the gag and easing it out of your mouth. He rubs gentle circles on the hinges of your jaw as you whimper.

“Did so good for me, baby. Lemme get you outta there, and I’ll give you my cock.”

You shake your head, tears spilling over, but you don’t have a voice. The words don’t come together in your mind, just devastation.

His grip turns tight, forcing you to look at him. “No? You tellin’ me no?”

You shake your head again, lip quivering.

“You don’t want my cock?”

You shake your head harder and try to reach for him, hands flexing where they’re bound in the stocks. Trying to make him see just how bad you want his cock.

Luckily, he understands that much. “You wanna stay there? Baby, my knees ain’t gonna like fuckin’ you here.” But he can tell from the way your face crumples that he still isn’t quite getting it.

“Are you tryin’ to tell me you want me to keep goin’?”

You nod and he slaps you, a sharp strike that catches you by surprise.

“Stupid girl,” he says, scowling, and gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I decide when we’re done. The whole point of this was not to ruin ya. This ain’t a punishment. Well, it wasn’t. Might be, next time.”

He stands up, shaking his head. “Dumb fuckin’ cunt.”

It hurts worse than the cane did.

When he sees the heartbreak on your face, he sighs. “Ah, shit. Look, I know you’re just tryin’ to please me. But you’re makin’ me feel bad for tryin’ to be careful with ya. If I take it too far today, you won’t be able to take as much anymore. I ain’t breakin’ you.”

You’re sobbing too hard to respond, but you don’t try to argue or struggle when he releases you. You crawl to lay kisses to the toes of his boots and nuzzle your cheek against them.

He sees it for the apology it is.

v. parched to dust

This time, when Tommy Miller takes out his cock in front of you, you’re ready. And there’s no way in hell you’re disappointing Joel again, so you wrap your lips around him, not quite eagerly but with enough determination that no one could fault you.

When you drag the second consecutive orgasm from him, he tugs you away with a fist in your hair, panting and gasping. Joel swats his hand away and beckons you back to his lap.

“ Jesus,” Tommy finally says, tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Told ya it was just a bad day,” Joel snipes.

“Sorry,” Tommy says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shoulda figured. It’s just… you’re a little soft for her, yeah?”

“Course I am. But I’m not soft on her.”

You know he loves you. You do. But hearing him admit that he’s soft for you makes your chest ache.

“Got another surprise for ya, baby,” Joel says, rubbing his hand over your back.

You’re overwhelmed. It’s not that he doesn’t give you things or do things for you; it’s that it’s never such a big deal. It just is . He takes care of you. That’s how this works. Not gifts and surprises.

You bite your lip so you don’t question it, but he sees through you.

“Now I know you don’t remember. D’you even know what day it is?”

“Saturday,” you say. “You’re home.”

He shakes his head, but it’s betrayed by the smirk. “You’re right, baby. But what’s the date?”

You actually have to think for a minute. You hadn’t crossed off the calendar this morning like you usually did, and yesterday’s activities have you a little rattled. “It’s um, it’s August 19th?”

“That’s our anniversary, baby.”

Your brows scrunch as you try to think back. That’s not right. Your first date was in February. You moved in sometime early in June. You’re not sure what his metric is, but August doesn’t make sense. “Um. Are you… are you sure?”

He doesn’t get mad like you thought he might. He just laughs. “Course, I’m sure, baby. It was the night we came home from your folks’. When you agreed to be mine.”

Your face heats. “I’m sorry—”

“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, baby. I didn’t expect ya to remember. But you’ve been mine for two years now, and you’re still worried I ain’t gonna keep you. But I’ve been thinkin’, and I know how to prove it to you.”

If this doesn’t convince you, he thinks, nothing will. Never mind that his whole goddamn life revolves around you. Never mind that you’ve worn his collar for the last 731 fuckin’ days.

You’re busy wondering why he made you suck another man’s cock today if he cares about your anniversary. But then again, you’ve long accepted that what he wants won’t always make sense. It’s not your job to make it make sense. It’s just your job to do it.

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs,” he says.

You swallow hard around the sudden fear, and he laughs.

“What? Had enough yesterday?”

“No, sir,” you say. It’s mostly the truth. Mostly.

He shakes his head. “Not today. C’mon.”

Now that he moves, you follow.

Tommy’s already in the basement, which almost gives you pause, if only because his movement startles you.

Joel has you hop up on the padded table instead of the metal one, typically a sign that either you’re going to be here for a well-extended time or that he’s going to fuck you on it.

Tommy’s setting things you don’t recognize out on the little cart, but you don’t try very hard to look. Looking makes your breathing get a little ragged, so you look at Joel instead.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending slightly to give you a kiss before he begins to slowly circle the table, fastening straps over your body.

He’s left the dress on, which is weird, too, but you’re not complaining. It’s always a little chilly down here and even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re glad he’s not made you bare yourself completely in front of Tommy.

It’s a lot of straps. You watch curiously, if not a little dazed, as he secures your ankles, thighs, stomach, chest both above and below your breasts, arms in three places, neck, and head.

The one around your neck clips to your collar, not adding another band or choking you. But you’re unable to lift your head and neck at all.

When he’s done with the strap across your forehead, he smooths away the worry lines that crease beneath it.

“Just need ya to hold real still. You’re probably going to like this, but don’t fuckin’ come.”

“Yes, sir.” Your eyes are wide and worshipful as you wait for further commands.

“Be real good for Tommy, okay?”

Your heart pounds in your throat, but you promise immediately.

He hops up to sit on the spanking bench nearby.

“Where first?” Tommy says.

“Hip,” Joel says, settling in to watch.

Tommy goes about his business and pulls the bottom halves of the table apart, wrenching your legs open slowly. He spreads them wide and slides a stool over, situating himself right up by your cunt, and flips the hem of your dress up over your belly button.

You whimper and try to look at Joel for any indication of how you’re supposed to behave, but the restraints don’t allow enough wiggle room.

Something cold smears across the front of your left hip, and, much to Joel’s surprise, you break. You’re still raw in more than one way from the previous day.

“Please, sir,” you blurt, lip trembling and eyes squeezed tight.

He hops down, brow furrowed, and comes closer, raising a hand to Tommy to pause him.

He cups your face. “Please, what, baby?” His other hand rubs up and down your side.

You force your eyes open to look at him, blurred through waiting tears.

“Please, can I have a gag?” you say. Your eyes are scrunched, and fists clenched.

He strokes his hand over your cheek. “‘Course you can. Good girl.”

The praise keeps you calm while he steps away. When he comes back, you open your mouth wide, and he settles it between your lips.

You nearly cry in relief when you feel the little bulb press inside, not much different than the head of his cock. A few tears spill over when he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Atta girl, he says, pinching your chin before returning to his perch.

The warmth of his touch lingers, and you let the pressure of the gag distract you from where Tommy starts to move again. You suck on it steadily, eyes fluttering shut when you feel the unmistakable scrape of a blade across your hip.

Shaving. He’s shaving you. You can’t fathom why, with only peach fuzz reaching there. And you think maybe it’d be a cold day in hell before Joel let anyone shave your pubic hair. He liked it kept trimmed but not too neat.

“I’m from the seventies, baby. Women’re supposed to have a nice healthy bush,” he had told you fairly early on when you were just dating. He hadn’t told you to stop shaving and waxing, but of course, you had.

Warm water washes over the area with a washcloth not far behind. Tommy’s firm hand does a final sweep with something cold.

“Alright, honey,” Tommy says, his voice almost seeming fond , “just hold still and be a good girl, okay?”

As if you’d do anything else.

You startle a little at the loud buzz that kicks up, and Tommy rubs gloves fingers over the opposite hip for just a moment.

And then he gets to work. It hurts . But the pain clues you into what’s going on, and you come to the only logical conclusion: Joel’s having you tattooed.

You start to cry, the feeling of being loved and owned overwhelming. You don’t hear Joel’s chuckle, buried as it gets under the gun in Tommy’s hands.

You thought it was overly cautious of him earlier, to worry about you having an orgasm during anything involving Tommy. But you get it now. The pain itself is bearable, almost delicious, but the rush of euphoria in your veins from the mere concept is intoxicating.

It goes on and on. Maybe it’s only half an hour. Maybe it’s four. The pain cycles, fading to a soothing heat before building back up to a scald.

You don’t realize it’s over right away. The buzz of the gun plays on in your brain even when the room falls quiet. And Tommy’s doing something to it, probably wiping it down, but your skin still rages.

Joel hops down and comes over to the side of your left leg. “Shit, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says to his brother.

“Looks damn good. Hey, she’s got a real pretty pussy, huh?” He says, elbowing Joel. “S’funny, watchin’ her leak all over.”

Joel peers over, running a finger over your cunt, and laughs. “Knew you’d like that,” he says.

You whimper.

He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo. “Want to see, baby?” He asks though he’s already turning the screen to you.

The skin is red and irritated, but the ink takes your breath away. In shiny black, right there on your hip, sits a blocky “JM” surrounded by a circle. It looks like a fucking brand.

Your eyes fly to his, whining desperately and praying he understands. A sly grin spreads across his face, and the tip of his middle finger traces oh so gently up your slit.

“Come for me, baby,” he says, not bothering to touch you further. He knows you won’t need it.

Vision blacking out, you writhe uselessly against the restraints as the pleasure batters through you. You’re only vaguely aware that the loud keening sound is coming from you, but it’ll register later when you feel the raw ache in your throat.

Tommy whistles. “Sorry I doubted you, princess.”

You whine through the aftershocks, tears welling up again at the thought of the tattoo. You hope Tommy would leave so Joel will fuck you.

Then you remember him asking, “Where first?” just as Tommy drags his stool around to the right side of your torso.

Joel comes with him, rolling up his sleeves and tinkering with something on the cart. They both touch your arm a lot, fingers roving and adjusting you. You start to tune it out until Tommy lathers a spot on the inside of your wrist.

Once it’s been shaved and cleaned, someone presses something against the spot for a moment.

“Well?” Joel says.

“Lines look clear to me,” Tommy says. He’s leaning close to your arm.

Joel doesn’t walk away this time. As the gun kicks back to life, he stays with his hand resting on your upper arm, looming over Tommy’s shoulder.

It’s easier this time, now that you know what to expect. It hurts, but you’ve had worse and probably will again. You’re feeling a bit too dizzy, though, when it finally stops.

“This one’s for you to see,” Joel says, starting to unlatch the straps. He frees your arm first and then your head and neck, plus the gag. The ache makes itself known as soon as you shift a little.

You peer immediately at your wrist, and a strange clenching tears through your chest. A few inches below your palm lays the dark outline of Joel’s thumbprint.

“Oh,” you whisper, a strange tingling spreading through your limbs. “Oh.”

“Knew you’d like it,” he says, lips curling into a smug smirk.

Once you’re untethered, he peels your dress off so the fabric won’t brush against your hip.

“There’s a protein bar and a bottle of water on the coffee table,” Joel says. “Go eat and wait by my chair.”

You’re swaying a little but he helps you down and makes sure you can stay on your feet before he removes his hands from your waist.

You make your way upstairs in a daze. Truthfully, you don’t really remember it. When they come upstairs, you’re knelt in your place, wrapper and empty bottle on the table.

“Good girl,” Joel says, lowering himself with a little groan into his recliner. He shifts around and pulls his cock out. “C’mere.”

You hop up immediately, and he takes you by the waist to help you settle where he’s fully hard already.

“Don’t move,” he says, to your great disappointment. “None of that,” he scolds at your pout. “It’s my turn. Just relax.”

Tommy sets the gun and equipment up to the side of the chair. You settle against Joel’s chest, snuggling in and resting your head on his shoulder so you can watch.

Joel’s other hand, the one not waiting in place, comes up to cup the back of your head. He bends his head down to kiss where he can reach. “You’re being so good. Just a little bit more, and then you can take this cock.”

“Do not come on her tattoo, Joel,” Tommy says.

Joel laughs, but Tommy smacks his arm. “I’m serious. It’ll fuck it up and probably infect it. Don’t fuckin’ do it.”

“I’ll wait ‘till it’s healed, don’t worry.”

You moan and clench around him at the idea, which only encourages his pleased chuckling.

Tommy takes your hand, peeling it from where it rested against Joel’s chest, idly brushing through the hair there. You let him, letting it go limp and unresistant.

He presses your thumb against an ink pad and pushes it down on a piece of paper, rolling it carefully. He repeats the process a few times before he’s satisfied. Wiping it clean, he coats it one more time before pressing it against Joel’s wrist.

You stare, rapt, as he traces the lines of your fingerprint onto Joel’s thick arm, framed by dark hair. It sits in parallel to the watch on his other wrist.

“Where d’you want these?” Tommy says after he’s wrapped up and started to pack away the equipment. He’s holding the papers where they tested your print.

“The safes. One in each office,” Joel says.

It’s weird, certainly, but so is Joel, so you don’t give it much thought.

He’s cradling your face in his palm, looking at you with something so tender and ferocious that you can’t possibly look away. He thrusts up into you, his other hand tight on the hip opposite the tattoo.

It hurts, but, well, you don’t mind.

The way he fucks you open now is slow, cruel after making you sit still for so long, but he’s savoring it. Savoring the way you can’t help but stare at him in worshipful bliss. It’s like a drug, the way his attention makes you hazy. He’s got you hooked, addicted, right where he wants you. His.

Not a damn part of you that isn’t.

The smirk curls across his face, and his hand curls around your neck, abandoning the gentle caress for something you both understand as love. You come on his cock when he tells you, every time he tells you, as he leaves you gasping and clutching his forearm, not prying him away but holding on as the room spins.

When he fills you, he kisses you deeply, hand back around your throat as his mouth takes the rest of your air. You collapse against his chest when he lets go, and he holds you there with a smug, satiated smile and a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You doze in and out in his lap as he and Tommy share a bottle of bourbon.

“Damn, I shoulda brought Daisy over. You haven’t had someone for her to play with in a while,” you hear Tommy say through the fog of your brain.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Joel says. His hand is scratching at your scalp and it feels so good you almost forget Tommy is talking.

“... my wife and your little pet—” he’s saying.

You don’t mean to open your eyes, but you catch his as soon as you do. He laughs. “Yeah, I got a wife. I’m not as mean as my brother, here.”

You find that hard to believe, but also, you don’t really think of Joel as mean. He’s strict, sure, and he has high expectations. But he takes such good care of you, and you want for nothing.

The phrase stirs something odd in your head. Do you want for nothing? Well, it’s at least partially true. You don’t want anything, not a thing you have or don’t have. You’re happy with whatever Joel gives.

It’s probably the same thing. Besides, you wanted that career; you wanted to put on a face, a mask, and pretend to be someone who gave a shit about the company’s reputation. And you were wrong, so wrong. And Joel’s always been right. So what do you know about what you want?

Joel’s rumbling voice startles you a little where you’re tucked against his chest. “She was one ‘a mine, y’know,” he says to you.

Tommy’s wearing a sly grin. “Yeah, until you scared the shit out of her,” he says, laughing. “Poor little thing didn’t know what to do with herself.”

“She wasn’t like you,” Joel says. He waits as if he expects a reaction, but you don’t stir from your safe place in his arms.

“Nah, not everyone’s as fucked up as y’all,” Tommy says. “I ain’t a sadist,” he says to you, a glint in his eye. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love puttin’ her in her place, but mostly, I just like havin’ my pretty little wife at home.”

Joel’s watching you; you can feel the heft of his gaze. But you’re so blissed out, so calm right here in his lap, dripping his seed slowly around where his cock still fills you.

“Would that bother you? Playin’ with a girl who used to be Joel’s?” Tommy goads.

You think about it for a moment. “She ever get his mark?”

Tommy grins, teeth like a shark. “Nope.”

You hum, unbothered, and nuzzle your cheek against Joel.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Knew you’d learn this time.”

You gaze at his thumbprint on your arm. The cells around it will grow and die, but not his claim on you.

It’s almost comforting, you think, that by the time that fades, there’ll be nothing left of you anyway.

bonus: the art of breaking playlist

thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who asked for a part two and expressed love for the first. I will admit I am INCREDIBLY nervous to publish this both because it's kind of fucked up but also because so many of you loved the first part and I'm scared this won't live up to your expectations.

please, if you enjoyed this, let me know! soothe my anxiety lol. and if you don't want to publically do so, anon is always on.

i love you!

#dead dove fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #dark fic #dddne #tw non con #READ THE WARNINGS #HEED THE WARNINGS #fic: the art of breaking

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noondefensesquad · 3 days

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omg you saw it too!! Can you give us a detailed review too pretty please? But if you prefer not to, I totally understand!!

unfortunately my memory sucks and i saw it over a week ago at this point so i'll try my best 😅

i was sitting in row N so closer to the back and there were two people with ipads taking notes on things to change which was cool because im nosy. however, they didn't make a lot of notations and from what i could read, it mostly had to do with lighting so i don't expect much to change when i go see it again in a few weeks.

i love jamie's work and have seen his productions before but was still taken aback by the darkness at the beginning of the play. you can see tom on the screens (i loved the usage of cameras and screens so they could have full use of the theater) as he's backstage and the heavy breathing put me on edge because i was like

then tom sat at the front of the stage and cried and because he is also such a pretty crier and maybe that's my own weird kink i had the biggest smile on my face. however, the girls in front of me were about to cry with him 😂 tell me this didnt do something for you!

but when fran came out, the people around me sat up. she's phenomenal and i want more people to talk about her performance because she's the star of the show. the way she delivers her lines is so funny and they have a great balance of making it feel current while delivering the original iambic penameter.

then as soon as fran and tom came face to face, the audience audibly reacted. not loud enough to be distracting but enough that you know they were into it. i was in love

lots of shakespeare stuff happened, tom took off that sweatshirt and came out in that vest and multiple people gasped. you can see his abs through the shirt 🫠 and when the nurse squeezes his arm and basically says juliet i get it, that line got a huge laugh. my internal monologue was just

this is a married man this is a married man this is a married man

and then intermission came and i talked to the people around me and this was the conversation

fran is so pretty, talented, funny, amazing, we love her

tom's haircut

tom's arms 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

is zendaya the jealous type or would she say yes that's my man (i had to pretend to be very normal about this conversation and said absolutely the jealous type i have no sources 👀)

how do we get to the stagedoor in time to see them (the amount of texts i got about those videos because i am RIGHT THERE with the most in love expression on my face)

the chemistry is unbelievable and we didn't want the show to be over

somehow we made it to the end of the play and i'll be honest, the second half is my least favorite part of the play so it was also my least favorite to watch. i love how silly and romantic the first half can be and the second half is more doom and gloom. i will say, when this exchange happens

"will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?"

"shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?"

my friend and i audibly said "oop" and that got laughs in our section. the best thing about this play was their delivery and when i read r&j, i couldve never imagined how much fun it could be coming from jamie.

anyway, at the end, we rushed out to the stage door and it was insane to see how the street cleared when tom left. and security was the best. really such sweet guys and if you see them being mean to people, they spend the whole time giving instruction is the friendliest way so those people deserved it.

the we got to speak with fran who is the sweetest and signed my customized r&j book with her face on the cover and my programme

can't wait to go see it again in a few weeks. i wish i could have every second imprinted on my brain

#r&j #romeo and juliet #francesca amewudah rivers #tom holland #ask

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niko-sasaki-dbd · 2 days

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Queue Interview with the Dead Boy Detectives Cast 👻🔎

This is going to be a long post! (These are my favourite parts from the interview!)

George Rexstrew as Edwin Payne

Acting Inspiration

Oh, gosh. Well there are so many. Meryl Streep, obviously. Viola Davis, obviously. More recently, I was blown away by Enzo Vogrincic in Society of the Snow. And Eden Dambrine in Close.

Cast Camaraderie

I loved working with all my co-stars. I’m practically related to Jayden [Revri] and Kassius [Nelson] at this point. Yuyu [Kitamura] is a dream. Jenn [Lyon] is mother hen. Bri[ana Cuoco] is the cool older sister. Josh[ua Colley] is the cheeky cousin. Ruth [Connell] is the godmother who gives you a card and £20 for your birthday. It really is one big happy dysfunctional family. I’m grateful for all of them, on and off camera.

Jayden Revri as Charles Rowland

Dressing The Part

These heads of departments, and Monique and Kelli, [they’re] unbelievable. They were so collaborative. We went through different hairstyles and different things we could do with the makeup. We added a bit of eyeliner for [Charles] just to make it feel more 80s. And then Kelli, I mean, it was like she did her research on me. She added badges to the jacket which kind of represented me as Jayden, before I even got there. It wasn’t until I got the haircut, put the makeup on, put the costume on, and I was like, Okay, this is Charles.

Cast Camaraderie.

The vibe was just incredible. Me and George, we really wanted to set the tone for the series and make sure that everyone’s having fun and it’s an environment where we could all talk about how we’re feeling. We were just such a big support blanket for each other. If there was ever a time that somebody needed space, or they wanted to prep themselves for a certain scene they were going to film, we all respected that and we were each other’s cheerleaders the whole entire time. And it’s still the same to this day now. I think it really shows when you watch the series that we all knew what we were making and we wanted to make something that we would want to watch, which we’ve all done. I cannot shout out my castmates enough. Forever grateful.

Kassius Nelson as Crystal Palace

Acting Inspiration

I watched a lot of animation. I used to watch the Addams Family, the black-and-white one, because I didn’t have Disney Channel or anything. Monk, Murder She Wrote, I was watching those things, so maybe I was actually destined to play a detective, now that I’m thinking about it. I watched a lot of cartoons and animations. I just liked the idea that I could be engrossed in another world. And I always wanted to know what happened next, or when the film finished, I would be like, “Okay, but then what? What happens after that?” And now I get to be part of that question or that answer (...).

Dressing the Part

We have a fantastic costume designer, Kelli Dunsmore. I always say that she literally wove the story into the fabric of the clothes, because there are things that she foreshadowed in the clothing that happened episodes later. Or, if characters start to get in some sort of relationship with each other, that will be reflected in the clothes that they wear or the colors that they have. Or, if they’re feeling any type of emotion, (...)l. Crystal wears these massive platform boots that must be about four or five inches. They’re huge, very heavy, but it’s funny because they change the way that you walk. (...) She’s not very light, which makes sense with the things that she’s going through and the experiences that she’s having. Practically, it helped, because Jayden and George are like six-foot-something. So, if I film a scene and I’m at the bottom of the lens and they’re up there, that helped. I’ve got a good couple inches on my feet.

Yuyu Kitamura as Niko Sasaki

Acting Inspiration

Sandra Oh is a woman that I will forever be indebted to because who she was on Grey’s Anatomy was so formative for me. The most interesting thing about her character was not that she was Asian, but that she was such a fully fleshed person with flaws and amazing qualities. And her work ever since I think has been iconic, so she’s a woman that I deeply look up to.

Landing the role in Dead Boy Detectives

I auditioned from Hong Kong and my dad was my reader because all of my acting friends were in New York. My dad was able to carve out time and be an amazing reader. And in that audition side, it’s the scene where Niko gets to see the “Dead Boys” for the first time, and there’s a line in there that was something along the lines of me talking to Edwin and asking, “Do you two make out with each other?” And my dad stopped the tape and he was like, “What are you reading for?” And I was like, “Don’t give me notes, it’s fine!” And so that was the audition process! I think within a month I found out I got the part and it’s been an absolute dream ever since.

Dressing the Part

(...) I think on paper Niko can seem like a certain type of character, but even in the choice of every costume we did, every color that she wears, every meticulous little piece about everything from her nails to her room, it’s so well curated and thought out. Through her journey, we also find that she’s a woman that wears what she feels. On the surface, she might seem like the most joyful, young, optimistic girl, but it’s the inner confidence and bravery where we find that she’s layered, and she is very much a young woman coming of age.

SOURCE: MEET THE REAL DEAD BOY DETECTIVES (AND FRIENDS)

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hotvintagepoll · 2 days

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Losing to Rita Moreno would be a heroic death but I need to submit propaganda for my darling Marlene: she played a huge part in securing my identity as bisexual lol.

A photo of her in a tux - might have been the very one you're using in the polls! - was on the cover of my history book in high school. I hadn't paid much attention to the cover while buying it, but when it was time for the first class and I lifted the book onto my desk... it was love at first sight. Time stopped. Everything went silent. The classroom and everyone in it ceased to exist; it was only me and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life, staring soulfully into each other's eyes for what might have been 15 seconds or 15 minutes.

After coming out of the trance for long enough to realize I needed to know my soulmate's name, I started flipping through the pages of the book with monk-like concentration trying to find the photo so its caption could answer the most pressing question in the universe. And I did find it!! The was an info box about the idol culture in old Hollywood, photos of stars circling its edges. Their names were listed at the end, clockwise, so again I focused all my attention on making sure I was getting the right name for the right face. Thank any deities that may or may not exist that this was just barely recently enough that smartphones were a thing so I could start immediately googling for more photos under my desk.

I really hope the teacher didn't say anything important that day because I sure didn't hear a word.

Marlene Dietrich vs Rita Moreno

#hot women are a delightful way to sell history textbooks #marlene dietrich #propaganda

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gleefullypolin · 2 days

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Romancing Mister Bridgerton Book Spoilers for reference:

Everyone is getting up in their feels about how Colin is going to handle the LW reveal and I know the show has really ramped up the drama compared to the book with extra risk however I still think some of the book is relevant here. Stick with me, this gets lengthy...

We’ve all seen the rumors. Brothel smothel. I’m not here to soothe anyone’s mind or spoil the show. I’m not a brothel hater from part 1. I felt the scenes while not completely fun to watch, were part of the story. Colin is playing the role he feels society is asking him to play. He seeks out this part while still feeling this enormous loneliness from it (see journal entry). He also does not seek out intimacy, there is a reason he is with 2 women and not 1. It is easier to avoid intimacy if you do not have to be one on one. There is much to draw out of the brothel scene but I’m not here for that. Either way, we may see him return to one in part 2 and we may not. I am withholding judgment until we know how it plays out and what he does there. Colin will have a huge secret that he cannot share with anyone, he may not have many places he can go. So I’m just going to wait and see.

However, I also know that Show Colin is as Book Colin, Kind. He is forgiving. And lets look past the situation and go to where he will return to Pen AFTER he has resolved to continue his conversation regarding LW.

Colin will definitely be angry. Pen lied to him. And she wrote as LW after they were engaged and announced. This will definitely I am sure be a punch to the chest. I feel for Colin. This again is imperfect people making mistakes. Pen made one here. In the book she made the same mistake:

“Don’t,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Don’t touch you?” His voice grew mocking, and Penelope was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Not yet,” she warned him.

“Oh, but you are. You saw to that. It was rather clever timing, actually, waiting until our engagement ball to make your final announcement. You knew I didn’t want you to publish that last column. I forbade it! We agreed—”

“We never agreed!”

He ignored her outburst. “You waited until—”

“We never agreed,” Penelope cried out again, needing to make it clear that she had not broken her word. Whatever else she had done, she had not lied to him. Well, aside from keeping Whistledown a secret for nearly a dozen years, but he certainly hadn’t been alone in that deception. “And yes,” she admitted, because it didn’t seem right to start lying now, “I knew you wouldn’t jilt me. But I hoped—”

So yes the show is different here because he already knew she was LW at the engagement in the book and published after they agreed she wouldn't. But same premise in the show, she lied to him after the engagement. so work with me here, She knew that Colin would not leave her even after she posted her article. It was wrong. She knew it. But she did it anyway.

“You hoped what?” Colin asked after an interminable silence.

“I hoped that you would forgive me,” she whispered. “Or at least that you would understand. I always thought you were the sort of man who…”

“What sort of man?” he asked, this time after the barest hint of a pause.

“It’s my fault, really,” she said, sounding tired and sad. “I’ve put you on a pedestal. You’ve been so nice all these years. I suppose I thought you were incapable of anything else.”

In the book you start to see that Colin becomes concerned about Pen, this is where his concern comes in, he’s worried about her safety here. He wants her to allow Cressida to just have taken the fall. She is being reckless.

Colin looked away. He didn’t know why he did so; it wasn’t as if he could see her in the dark, anyway. But there was something about the tone of her voice that made him uneasy. She sounded vulnerable, tired. Wishful and heart-broken. She made him want to understand her, or at least to try, even though he knew she had made a terrible mistake. Every little catch in her voice put a damper on his fury. He was still angry, but somehow he’d lost the will to display it.

“You are going to be found out, you know,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “You have humiliated Cressida; she will be beyond furious, and she’s not going to rest until she unearths the real Lady Whistledown.”

Penelope moved away; he could hear her skirts rustling. “Cressida isn’t bright enough to figure me out, and besides, I’m not going to write any more columns, so there will be no opportunity for me to slip up and reveal something.” There was a beat of silence, and then she added, “You have my promise on that.”

“It’s too late,” he said.

“It’s not too late,” she protested. “No one knows! No one knows but you, and you’re so ashamed of me, I can’t bear it.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Penelope,” he snapped, “I’m not ashamed of you.”

And now we start to shift. The conversation of anger to shame.

Colin crossed the room and fumbled in a drawer for a candle and the means with which to light it. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he reiterated, “but I do think you’re acting foolishly.”

“You may be correct,” she said, “but I have to do what I think is right.”

“You’re not thinking,” he said dismissively, turning and looking at her face as he sparked a flame. “Forget, if you will—although I cannot—what will happen to your reputation if people find out who you really are. Forget that people will cut you, that they will talk about you behind your back.”

“Those people aren’t worth worrying about,” she said, her back ramrod straight.

And now we talk about society. We talk about what Pen has done throughout the years. What her words have meant across the ton.

“But forget all of that,” he continued. “You have spent the last decade insulting people. Offending them.”

“I have said lots of very nice things as well,” she protested, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Of course you have, but those aren’t the people you are going to have to worry about. I’m talking about the angry ones, the insulted ones.” He strode forward and grabbed her by her upper arms. “Penelope,” he said urgently, “there will be people who want to hurt you.”

She doesn’t see that she has tried to hurt people. Pen is not a bad person. She has written the truth. Even when it has hurt people she doesn't see herself as a bad person, she is NOT and I mean to say this clearly for those that have not heard me, she is NOT a villain. But here is where it gets interesting for me and it will harken back for me to the show. To the MOST important conversation that Pen and Colin have ever had.

“What I want to know,” he asked, deliberately forcing the conversation back on topic so his mind wouldn’t wander down such dangerous roads, “is why you’re not jumping on the perfect alibi if the point is to remain anonymous.”

“Because remaining anonymous isn’t the point!” she fairly yelled.

“You want to be found out?” he asked, gaping at her in the candlelight.

“No, of course not,” she replied. “But this is my work. This is my life’s work. This is all I have to show for my life, and if I can’t take the credit for it, I’ll be damned if someone else will.”

Colin opened his mouth to offer a retort, but to his surprise, he had nothing to say. Life’s work. Penelope had a life’s work.

He did not.

So lets go back to Season 2. To this most important and intimate conversation that I think they have ever had together.

Pen: I am certain you will find your purpose one day. Everyone must eventually.

Colin: Have you found yours?

Pen: Of course not. But I imagine it to be something both animating and satisfying. The type of venture that speaks not to who I am but rather who I am to be. My purpose will challenge me to be brave and witty. My purpose will propel me far beyond the watchful glare of my mama. My purpose shall set me free.

Colin: What could possibly measure up to all that? Your dreams are grander than you let on, Pen.

Pen: Yes, they are mere fantasies, but I do believe we must allow ourselves those private moments so we may face reality armed with our reveries.

This is what we built up to, this right here. This is what we lead to in Season 3. And that will lead us to Book Colin. This is what they are giving us and it is glorious. And I love it. And I believe this is our New girl kiss and this is our Mirror and I am here and I will believe in this because this is our Polin!

She was amazing. He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized it before, when he’d already known that she was smart and lovely and witty and resourceful. But all those adjectives, and a whole host more he hadn’t yet thought of, did not add up to the true measure of her.

She was amazing.

And he was…Dear God above, he was jealous of her.

“I’ll go,” she said softly, turning and walking toward the door.

For a moment he didn’t react. His mind was still frozen, reeling with revelations. But when he saw her hand on the doorknob, he knew he could not let her go. Not this night, not ever.

“No,” he said hoarsely, closing the distance between them in three long strides. “No,” he said again, “I want you to stay.”

She looked up at him, her eyes two pools of confusion. “But you said—”

He cupped her face tenderly with his hands. “Forget what I said.”

And that was when he realized that Daphne had been right. His love hadn’t been a thunderbolt from the sky. It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he’d reached this moment, and he suddenly knew.

He loved her.

He was still furious with her for publishing that last column, and he was bloody ashamed of himself that he was actually jealous of her for having found a life’s work and purpose, but even with all that, he loved her.

And if he let her walk out the door right now, he would never forgive himself.

This will lead to jealous Colin because suddenly the woman he is marrying has her purpose, he still does not, his new wife is successful, a writer, who he deems himself to be. This woman who compliments his writing suddenly has clout to do so. This is Book Colin coming home to us. But at the end of the chapter...let us remember, he would not let her walk out the door because even with all of that, the deception, the jealousy...he would not forgive himself if he let her walk out the door, because he LOVED her.

#polin #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #bridgerton therapy #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington

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mysticstarlightduck · 1 day

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Late Writeblr Intro!

Hello, friends!

I figured it was about time I made an actual blog intro of my own since I forgot to make one when I started this blog last year. Better late than never, lmao!

Pls, reblog, like, and/or reply to help boost the blog! 💕

Let's get started:

Personal Stuff! 💜🩶🖤

My name is Anna/Anya but you can call me Mystic, Ducky, or just Anya on this blog! My personal nickname is Ani and I adore it (:

I am an Asexual woman (my pronouns are she/her!) and I'm also personally an atheist who puts my faith in the spirits of Mother Nature, though I respect all other religions equally!

I'm Gen Z and Latina (Brazilian). I was raised bilingual (Brazilian Portuguese + English) and I love learning languages - currently, I'm working on learning French and Spanish! Career-wise I am studying in college to become a character designer and hopefully animator, as I want to pursue a career as an artist and writer! I also wish to have my WIPs published in the near future (:

Some fun facts about me!

My favorite shows are Critical Role, Game of Thrones, Castlevania, The Legend of Vox Machina (animated series), Star Wars, Voltron, The Dragon Prince, Avatar the Last Airbender, Legend of Korra, and DC Comics content, as well as many more lmao. I love watching movies and series!

My favorite Vox Machina characters are Vax'ildan and Percy (:

I am a younger sister 💖

My hair is short and curly (pixie style, similar to the haircut Rapunzel has at the end of the Tangled movie!)

I adore listening to music, especially songs that can inspire me to write my WIPs! Playlists are a huge part of my writing process and something I really enjoy making.

I'm currently rereading Shadow and Bone (+ Six of Crows) and I am always looking for more good dark fantasy/historical fantasy books to read so book recs are always welcome! I also am a huge fan of the Percy Jackson series and Trials of Apollo (by Rick Riordan), though I'm usually more of a gritty/dark fantasy fan (like Game of Thrones)!

I have three dogs and two cats!😺🐶

I know how to play the piano, though I haven't done that in a while because things have been chaotic for me, but I'd like to start playing regularly again in my winter vacation.

I have worn glasses since I was 5 years old and have terrible eyesight without them (and some days with them, lol, so bear with me).

My friends and I are doing a DnD campaign every Sunday, where I play as a half-elf rogue named Aeryn (he/him). I'm adoring this adventure so far, it's so fun!!!

I love to bake and am rather good at it, but am a painfully average cook lmao (some specific recipes I make are actually rlly good, but it depends a lot on my mood and the 'alignment of the stars' lol)

I want to learn how to knit/crochet! 🧶

I'm a theater nerd and love musicals (:

About my Writing!🏹⌛

I write fictional works mostly in the genre of fantasy (high fantasy/epic fantasy/dark fantasy/historical fantasy/urban fantasy, etc. You name it!) and science fiction (space opera/cyberpunk/superhero, etc).

My works usually revolve around themes such as epic quests, secrets, adventure, rebels fighting an oppressive system, sibling bonds, acceptance/respect, outcasts, and much, much more! I love fluff and whump equally, and though my stories tend to focus on serious topics (or at least darker/heavier themes) within a fantasy/sci-fi setting, I like to have a good bit of humor, lighthearted fun, and comedy to my stories to lighten up the mood!

My main WIPs:

Song of Thorns

🌹WIP Intro: (here)🌹

Genre: dark fantasy, medieval fantasy, adventure/mystery, dark fairytale, eldritch horror (mild)

Style: Standalone (possible Trilogy)

Tags: #wip song of thorns #song of thorns

Short Summary/About: "A peasant girl moves with her siblings from her struggling seaside village to the kingdom's glittering floating capital, but after her older brother is kidnapped, she ends up discovering the dark, bloody secrets hiding behind the long-lasting royal family of the town and must team up with a young dhampir thief, the exiled prince, and a lonely druid girl to save the dying kingdom from this web of lies".

Supernova Initiative

🎇WIP Intro: to be made... 🎇

Genre: space opera, adventure, exploration, laboratory whump, heist, thriller/mystery

Style: Episodic book series with an overarching plot (each chapter/group of chapters equivalent to an episode in a TV series)

Tags: #wip supernova initiative #supernova initiative

Short Summary/About: "A young intergalactic thief and his crew are captured after a heist gone wrong and forced to accept a strange deal - complete a mission for the Junction, retrieve important missing files, and get their freedom back. All the while that is happening, Jack Tithus, the protagonist, finds himself trapped as a test subject to an immoral, and elusive, man known as the Director."

Enchanted Illusions

💀 WIP Intro: (here)💀

Genre: Victorian fantasy, adventure, mystery, gothic fantasy, dark fantasy, crime-solving

Style: Possibly a trilogy

Tags: #wip enchanted illusions, #enchanted illusions

Short Summary/About: "On a magical setting inspired by Victorian times, a group of strangers and outcasts must work together to thwart a powerful secret organization and stop a murder spree that could lead to another civil war between myths and humans."

Of Starlight and Beasts

✨⚔️WIP Intro: (here)⚔️✨

Genre: medieval fantasy, epic fantasy, adventure/quest, dark fairytale, sword and sorcery, prophecies

Style: Book Series

Tags: #wip of starlight and beasts, #enchanted illusions

Short Summary/About: "A young knight in training and an amnesiac star mage embark on a quest to prevent an ancient prophecy from coming to fruition as a vengeful sorceress queen's army marches relentlessly onto their land with the intent to destroy all their kingdom has built."

The Last Wrath

🔥⚔️WIP Intro: to be made...⚔️🔥

Genre: dark fantasy, warfare, political intrigue, espionage, adventure/quest, medieval fantasy, whump

Style: Book Series (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip the last wrath, #the last wrath

Short Summary/About: "In a land torn by an ancient war between two sides of a continent, a mageborn girl finds herself trapped amid the bloodshed after her past comes back to haunt her and her family. Now, stopping the war may be the only chance she still has to survive."

Tales of Wilted Flowers

🥀WIP Intro: to be made...🪻

Genre: RPG-inspired fantasy, high fantasy, adventure, fairytale, epic quest, heist story, whump, light fantasy

Style: Trilogy (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip tales of wilted flowers #tales of wilted flowers

Short Summary/About - "A group of youths rejected and betrayed by society in many different ways come together due to unexpected circumstances and must rely on each other to prevent the kingdom's corrupt Head Sorcerer and the King from reviving an ancient evil."

Realms of Loss

🍂WIP Intro: (here)🍂

Genre: dark fantasy, warfare, medieval fantasy, high fantasy, ancient times fantasy, Viking-inspired, prophecies & curses

Style: Book Series (currently on hiatus)

Tags: #wip realms of loss #realms of loss

Short Summary/About - "In a continent destroyed by the fall of the Old Gods, and trapped in an endless toil for survival, a cocky young prince discovers his role in an ancient prophecy after his brother, the King, is murdered and assassins come for him too. Running away into the forsaken land beyond the walls of his kingdom, he'll have to learn to be a leader and save his people as a dead, murderous God awakens."

Mutant Inquiries/Open Secret Files

🤖 WIP Intro: to be made..🤖

Genre: superhero, cyberpunk, futuristic, dystopian, science fiction, urban fantasy

Style: Episodic Series, still in development

Tags: #wip mutant inquiries #wip open secret files #mutant inquiries #open secret files

Short Summary/About: "In a dystopian, high-tech future, a group of mutant teenagers become vigilantes and crime fighters to rebel against the oppressive government regime and survive their crime-ridden city."

I have a few other smaller-scale WIPs I occasionally, less frequently work on, such as Lies Untold and Jade Ruins, but those up above are the main ones that I wish to publish. I've also got a big, secret extra WIP I'm working on for fun and will share it with you guys soon!

#writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr intro #blog intro #wip intro #writeblr #writing #writerblr #my wips #character writing #writing community #writers of tumblr

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forthegothicheroine · 2 days

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How Other Great Detectives Would Solve the Riddler Murders

A series I do sometimes. This is based on The Batman (2022). I will be assuming that none of these universes have already established superheroes and supervillains unless it's also in that canon.

Sam Vimes: The Watch as a whole might solve the case, but Vimes is going to be in the wrong headspace. Carcer was bad enough as playful serial killers go, but a serial killer who liked Sam Vimes and wanted to be his best buddy? I think that would make Vimes need his own stay in Arkham.

Sam and Peter: This one is my favorite, it works so horribly well! The Riddler, having been a huge fan of American Vandal, addresses his messages to these two teenage goobers (and it is in fact in the form of vandalism.) Selina ends up saving their lives due to secondhand embarassment when she sees them trying to interview Carmine Falcone about whether he was on any Gothamite subreddits. (Oswald Cobblepot was happy to talk to them about it!) It all comes down to whether the pressure of stopping a serial killer causes the boys to bloom or break, and I'd like to hope it would be the former.

Phryne Fisher: I totally get why the Riddler would fixate on and write letters to Phryne, she's a very good person to fixate on and write letters to! (I've often said she's like if Catwoman were Batman.) Phryne sleeps with Selina and gets surprisingly flirtatious with Oswald. Having already taken down a cocaine ring, she knows enough to honeypot her way into the lower floor of the Iceberg, and very narrowly avoids death at the hands of Falcone. She can solve riddles easily enough, though I don't know if she'd put them together in time to stop the flooding of the city. I'll call this success with a similar casualty rate to Batman's.

Sammy Keyes: This one is a real dick move on the Riddler's part. Addressing your serial killer messages to a tween girl who'd been involved in catching other criminals, thus revealing she's living in an apartment illegally and potentially getting her taken away by social services? It's absolutely something he would do to make a broader social point, but still it's a serious dick move. I think Sammy is way out of her depth here but I want her to succeed because I love the idea of subsequent Sammy Keys books having recurring characters that include the one cop slightly sympathetic to her, the junior high mean girl, and the serial killer who sends her cryptic letters from incarceration.

L: I just know that somehow this is going to involve Edward Nasthon, Forensic CPA, being on the team to catch the Riddler and him and L having a vaguely but unconsumatedly homoerotic dance between friend and enemy. I don't think he'd want to kill L, though, since he'd rather have him alive to acknowledge him as the smartest coolest guy ever, so I'll give L the edge here.

Jane Marple: No matter how I twist it, I just can't see a scenario in which the Riddler would send serial killer messages to Miss Marple. Instead, I think Edward Nashton would just meet her at a tea shop, they'd have a friendly conversation about the novel she's reading, and then she'd call up the police and tell them she's found the Riddler.

Columbo: This isn't a great setup for Columbo, since his method of detection is all about catching people in their lies, which is hard to do with a killer who is a nobody and who keeps to the shadows. He would definitely put Falcone away in the course of the investigation, but I don't know if that's enough to stop the grander scheme in play. If he does catch him, though, he would stop the flood because Edward Nashton would be SO vulnerable to casual conversations about hypothetical approaches to crime.

Philip Marlowe: I think Marlowe would kind of work his way backwards here. He'd get deep into the grime of Gotham, end up stopping a plot to flood the city, follow that up by an investigation into the mob and unconsummated sexual tension with Selina, just barely escape getting murdered by Falcone, get hit on the head by Cobblepot and have hallucinations involving penguins with umbrellas, then finally catch Edward Nashton, the petty little nobody who killed people to make himself feel like somebody.

Dale Cooper: This is a good case for Cooper, lots of subplots that lead into other subplots, nothing overtly supernatural but a vague general feeling of curses and doom. He would find deeper meaning in all the coded riddles that pointed to dark truths about the universe, topped off with dreams of cats and penguins doing his taxes. I sure hope the Riddler is willing to wait for all that before flooding the city, because Coop works at his own damn pace.

Hercule Poirot: I can see Poirot fitting in to the art deco Gotham of the animated series, but the modernist urban grime of the 2021 film is viscerally unpleasant to imagine him in. He could solve the riddles and aid the police, certainly, but more than any of the other detectives, my mind is rebelling against my attempts to imagine these people in the same room at the same time.

Sam Spade: Selina Kyle hires him to help get her friend out of a jam at the same time as Cobblepot hires him to get a few murders discreetly solved before the cops get too nosy, and then Falcone tries to have him whacked when he gets too close on both accounts. The Riddler would take him completely by surprise, but I'm having so much fun imagining Edward Nashton looking up at him with big Peter Lorre eyes and babbling about what crime really means that I'll allow him to at least stick around for that. I think he can get out of this still alive, but it would be a close call.

Kinsey Milhone: Why her, she wonders? Sure, she's a detective, but she's hardly a household name. She goes through all her files to see if this could be connected to anything she's ever worked on, and lo and behold, back when she was an insurance fraud investigator, they always worked with a forensic CPA named Edward Nashton. Now, what could have ever become of that guy...

Sherlock Holmes: Sherlock Holmes either immediately solves this or fails utterly, and it all comes down to how quickly you think he could decode things using a computer.

#great detectives series #the batman 2022

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kookynella · 1 day

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So, I don’t normally write long posts and I thought this was important enough to type a rant, so you’re welcome, I guess:

I was reading a Sydney and Carmen is a slow burn article on Jezebel (they are my Roman Empire, I go down the rabbit hole willingly), and you know, it was clearly a SydCarmy shipping article, so readers were pre-warned by the title. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to read the comment section, but YELP!

And yes, I was offended and outraged, because for what other possible reason would I then come onto tumblr at 6am in the morning to complain when my ADHD-ass should be asleep in bed?!? Well this is the reason.

The comments were all negative and trying to explain why SydxCarmy is a no-go or should be a no-go zone: Sydney & Carmen don’t have chemistry! I don’t see the romance! Romance between them would ruin a good show! Why can’t men and women coworkers be in a healthy platonic relationship! Me Too movement - say NO to boss employee romances! ClairexCarmy makes more sense!

Blah blah blah, [insert more pathetic, banal rationale here], I stopped reading the comments. The actual (cute) article I read with the shit-take comments is linked below, if anyone is interested.

… extended release rant is under the cut….

And really what they were NOT saying out loud, what I highly suspect to be the real reason for their negative stance: racial intolerance. So, here we are - I’m calling it out, as many others have before me: Some people refuse to see a strong, intelligent, woman of colour character have a romantic relationship with their white male lead on prime time television. They are in denial, they are not ready and frankly, not deserving. It’s intolerance.

Because for what other reason could there be for the outright denial of what is clear as day: the characters of Sydney and Carmy ARE romance coded in the story being told, and they (as played by Ayo and JAW) have amazing chemistry (romantic or not). Why else are people so quick to deny the chemistry? To deny the possibility, the opportunity, the overt displays and undertones of romantic coding that Sydney and Carmen have!?!?!

And I will also say this, it’s my opinion, that there is more chemistry between Sydney and Carmy than between Claire and Carmy, there is more emotion and expression in the former duo’s interactions than in the latter’s. And that’s part of the main point of having Claire there - she’s a tool, a distraction to compare and contrast of what is there and could be more/better (Sydney, the future), to what is there and is not fitting/insufficient (Claire, the past).

People really stay reaching with their non-creative excuses to being anti-SydCarmy. Give me an actual reason like, he needs to do a lot of therapy/personal work, she’s got her own baggage to sort out, before they could be in a healthy, emotionally stable relationship. Or if they went there and it didn’t work out and then work/business is impacted in the messiness. Give me actual arguments not made up ones because a black woman and a white man who are in fact compatible (not necessarily healthy), does not fit your aesthetic of romance, love, attraction and chemistry. I see plenty of popular toxic relationships be lapped up and popularised despite the clear reasons of the characters not to date, but because they are “white” it’s welcomed, acceptable and put on a pedestal, and the toxicity is seen as part of the appeal.

Interpersonal relationships is a huge part of the story being told in The Bear - family, friends, found family, colleagues, professional and unprofessional. And Sydney and Carmen’s relationship is the yin and yang amongst it all, they are two sides of the same coin - their passion, their work ethic, their vision, their growth, their trust - THEM, no-one else holds this dynamic, well maybe you could compare Sugar and Pete’s relationship of differences and balancing each other out but like a way chiller version.

As the story unfolds and we learn more about Sydney and Carmen we see that they are better together than apart, they thrive when bouncing ideas off one another and creating, thy are leaders that best lead their team together. When their commitment and communication is open, they are rolling, they are primed, they are evolved and so is their team. They are at their best when they are keyed into each other.

I don’t know much about twin flames (nothing actually, other than MGK and Megan Fox’s touting that title and journalists running with it), but I imagine if I did know anything, I would be able to write a shit tonne more about how Sydney and Carmen are twin flames, soulmates.

Canonically, theirs is definitely a deeper connection formed in a very short amount of time that these two have known each other, and the others in that kitchen see it. It’s palpable. And whether it gets to be romantic or remain platonic we have yet to see, the foundation for romance is there, regardless.

And you can’t tell me that Sydney is not the catalyst for positive change for Carmy. Sydney ignites his creative spark, he envisions something greater for their restaurant and he thinks it’s possible and puts it into action, again because of Sydney entering the scene - “You could do this without me” / “I wouldn’t even want to do this without you”.

Going back to the Jezebel article and the comments, the (majority female) commentators are denying, what I would say by season two, is undeniable - Sydney is Carmy’s person, their relationship has romance tropes/themes throughout it whether the characters are aware or not.

From my opinion, most romantic storyline’s are to entertain and hook in more female audiences, it’s key to marketing, whether done well or not. And sometimes it may not be initially intentioned but when two actors have undeniable chemistry, writers tend to play on that with the characters, and sometimes change storyline’s to fully realise and employ the chemistry. The romance tropes are definitely there for SydxCarmy, ~even if you have to look under a table to find it.

Another point, EVERYTHING in The Bear is intentional - I wasn’t sure what my points were, I came in here to vent, so “bear” with me. The show has great writers, great directors, great actors, great editing, and you can tell they do. Even if they didn’t win all those awards you would know the show is done well. I’m sure film schools will use The Bear for students to dissect the art, because it is exemplary. Anyway back to my point, they didn’t come to play, everything is planned and even if it wasn’t - when it’s left in the final cut: IT IS INTENTIONAL.

The set design, the menu, the costuming, the lighting, the music, the pacing, the dialogue, camera angles, the editing, it is all an intentional choice. And they are choosing to have scenes imbued with intimacy, vulnerability, intensity, emotional rawness, in small spaces, loud, busy spaces, quiet, calm spaces, it’s a busy restaurant after all - things get stressful and wild, and haaaawt for a variety of reasons (mainly people working in close proximity, under a lot of pressure). All these charged moments carry significance for the characters and none get more intimate than Sydney and Carmy in that under the table moment - they slow everything down in that episode for that scene, where he invites her to confide in him her internal worries and she relents, and he reassures her then recommits to her. The world is quiet for one moment so they can have this heart to heart, and they are both willingly exposing themselves emotionally, they bolster each other up as they are bolstering that table, and then he gifts her with an expensive, planned, personalised, gift that he knew she would love (the cost, the effort and attention to detail from Carmy= it’s a designer engagement ring your honour).

And on that note, even when Carmy is spending time with his “she’s not my girlfriend/is she my girlfriend?”, Claire, we have INTENTIONAL shots of Sydney interspersed. Why are they bringing her into the scene when she isn’t physically there? Because she’s important, vital even, to Carmen’s thoughts and feelings, and therefore his actions. Sydney doesn’t belong with them in their one-on-one interactions, (intimate scenes) and yet there she is. Why this call to attention??? Because Carmy is not where he should be, because Carmy is not with the person he is meant to be with, because his attention is split and his focus is not where it should be. And it is going to be to his detriment - as we see later for everyone involved, but mainly him.

Claire is a distraction for Carmy and not necessarily a welcome one on his part, and yet he is spending more time with her, and Sydney’s scenes cut in-between are reminding us of this.

It’s showing not telling, but some people really do need to be told because they cannot read between the scenes.

Sydney is Carmen’s partner/equal/inspiration/hope/muse/balance (read soulmate).

Meanwhile, the ClairexCarmy scenes had all the obvious - This is a romantic relationship! stuff. And yet it lacked, I want to say: chemistry, heat, warmth, fire, depth of emotion. How is this possible to be lacking such weighted feeling? When you have two very attractive people in such close proximity, developing a romantic relationship that - feels romantic, it should be child’s play right? So, how could the portrayal be lacking such vitality, when ClairexCarmy scenes ticked all the romantic/couple boxes? Because it’s meant to be portrayed as lacklustre. It’s a foil for what the, equally attractive yet somehow hotter, SydxCarmy relationship already has, without realising that’s the space their characters inhabit.

And some commentators/viewers trying to make some moral/workplace ethical ground along the lines of “but he’s her boss”, she’s his junior employee”, “it’s inappropriate”, to all of those persons, I say NO. Maybe Sydney, may have appeared green to some viewers as a newcomer to The Beef and to the not so well-oiled kitchen crew, but Sydney is experienced, well trained, and brings her own heat. So, come season two in establishing The Bear restaurant it is also firmly established to viewers that Sydney is Carmen’s partner (business partner, yeah-yeah), she is his equal, he identifies her as such.

The man offered her to go into, possibly lifeling, debt with him to open up their dream family restaurant - the one thing he wanted to do with his dead hero older brother, the brother that was busy fighting his own demons and pushing Carmen away, making Carmen believe his big brother didn’t value him or see him as an equal and leave and punish himself to become the best chef he could be, which was the best in the world according to Sydney.

And Sydney was already in deep financial debt, but she didn’t even hesitate, it wasn’t until her worried, practical father started asking her the tough questions that she thought on it, (got defensive), then doubled down on her decision, because, Yes, Syd trusts Carmy, she will invest her hopes and dreams in him and with him.

Carmen initially hires Sydney because she’s excellent (too good for The Beef), and over a short period of time he comes to identify Sydney as his equal. Very early on, he makes her his right-hand woman - season one “Brigade episode. He trusts her to lead and to share the load, even if he left her high and dry first thing, but he did apologise). He also, opens up to Sydney about Mikey which he’s avoided talking about with his nearest and dearest.

Then Carmen ups the ante (where Mikey had pushed him away instead of making Carmy an equal), he does what he wished Mikey had offered him - he invites Sydney to be his business partner and to co-create. We learn of the shared vision they have in the season one finale, witnessing how in-step and connected they are when Sydney returns, bringing Carmen the hope of establishing his dream, The Bear.

Let me re-cap it for the sheer joy, because the amount of times I rewatched this scene:

The gang is un-canning Mike’s cash stash, Sydney nervously walks into the restaurant after previously quitting, and she is stopped by the chaotic scene before her, the gang notices and welcomes her back, she questions WTF is going on but stays still as Carmen zeroes in on her, the world quiets, as they lock eyes, she stands there uncertain, clutching her bag, and he continues to stare with a dumb look on his face, looking at her like she hung the moon and the stars (like the episode one meet-cute, but on steroids), and then he speaks and they riff off each other, without any preamble, like they’re reading a practiced speech, about their Family style, two-tops, booths, Danish design, tasting menu at the bar, window on the side, restaurant.

And that is one way to tell me I’m witnessing a marriage proposal without telling me I’m witnessing a marriage proposal.

As for Sydney, what does she get out of agreeing to team up to open The Bear? Other than being saddled with a huge debt with a lost, sad, grieving, lonely, driven, awkward, anxiety ridden, CPTSD, OCD, brilliant little, white, chef man?

Well, to do “the thing” her father questions her about - to realise her dream: to be (co-)owner of a restaurant. And and to do it with a world renowned chef who cooked the best meal she’s ever had, where she can lead and create, and have the opportunity to work towards a Michelin star, and for her to have a found family in that journey, to have other people to rely on and support and work towards a common goal, because she tried alone in the past and it didn’t work out. And this is an opportunity that she won’t pass up, regardless of her father’s concerns.

Also, Jeremy Allen White is a strong actor, and Ayo Edibiri, who is relatively a newcomer, holds her own, and adds to the scene. She brought her A-game - she meets him at his level whilst maintaining her character, she balances him out well in his rawness in bringing her own dynamic, those two actors playing those specific characters belong in the kitchen together, the casting choices are *chef’s kiss”.

Well that’s all, it is A LOT, and I had to get it all out, now that I’ve said my piece bring on season three of The Bear, I needed it yesterday!

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