#Italian Shaving Brush

[koh-i-noorbeautyusa]

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[604to647]

Without Chains

1K / Pero Tovar x Chinese Fem!OC Reader

A/N: I've never written an OC Reader before but I thought, okay - if this is set in China after the events of The Great Wall, Reader can definitely be Chinese and also, I would like to do my part in adding to the diversity of works available, so... I try! Please give it a chance! 🙏🏻 This was written for @itwasntimethatdidit40's Italian Music Challenge - the song I was asked to be inspired by is Non abbiamo bisogno di parole (lyrics can be found at the end)! Congrats again on your milestone 🥳, I hope you like this and that I did the song justice 🥹🥰🥰

Summary: You help Pero shave in preparation for his journey back West with William.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, allusion to past smut, minor angst, nickname because it's me (Pero calls reader Xiǎo Huā, which means 'little flower' in Mandarin).

Dividers by @saradika-graphics - ty!

You ignore the smirk that that tugs at the corner of Pero’s mouth, visible even through the scruff of the beard you’re currently trimming.

The brush of rough fingers dancing over the back of your thighs sends a spark of pleasure up your spine that isn’t as easily ignored, stilling the blade in your hand.

“Stop or you’re going to end up with another scar to match the one over your eye.”

“I’ve seen too much of your skill with a blade to believe that possible.”

“I didn’t say it would be an accident.”

The smirk becomes a full out grin, but Pero’s hands drop obediently so you can get back to your task. 

Focusing solely on shaving and cleaning up his facial hair so that it matches the neat haircut you gave him earlier, you’re oblivious to the adoring gaze of the sitting Spaniard whose legs you stand between.  With your figure accentuated by the lighter clothing you now wear in lieu of the wartime armour he met you in, Pero’s hands itch to touch you again, to caress your heavenly curves with the reverence they deserve.  Looking up at your sweet face, currently pinched in concentration, he resists the urge to sweep a fallen strand of hair off your cheek – he likes how you wear it loose around your shoulders these days, jet black silk perfectly framing your features, so softened by the Wall’s newfound peace.  Tài Piào Lian (so pretty), he wonders to himself, practicing the pronunciation he asked you to teach him. 

It’s not the only thing that’s been tempered.  You’ve forgiven him for the transgression that led to his imprisonment, for abandoning you and your country in your hour of need – a mistake he will regret for the remainder of his life.  He’s hard and impulsive, this warrior of yours, but not nearly as selfish as he’s been taught to be, nor as heartless as his survival would suggest.  He punishes himself enough – you can feel it in every searing kiss to your lips, every press of his hard body to yours, every drag of his cock along your warm walls since his pardon.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  You can trust me again, I promise.  Please believe me.

You do.

With a final flick steel, you finish and the handsomeness of Pero’s now revealed face sends your heart racing.  He wears the wisdom and the long, deep lines of a life lived and fought for terribly well, though all those years of harsh living and bearing witness to the cruelties of lesser men have left their mark as well.  It’s easier for his sharp eyes not to crinkle, for the hard line of the mouth you can never resist to not smile, and yet they do.  Sometimes for you.  Sometimes for William.  Sometimes just because.  There’s still joy beneath the gruff, stoic armour this man bears, hidden like treasure and precious to you - it may be what you love most about him.

You lay down the shaving razor and tilt Pero’s face to yours to examine your handiwork; running your thumbs over the cut of his jaw and through the newly pruned whiskers, you whisper softly, “There you are.”

“Here I am,” having been given unspoken permission, Pero reaches for you once more.  Feeling the warmth of you beneath his palms, he inhales the sweetness of your perfume, taking in as much of you as he can while he can.

Melted pools of kohl fix upon your own eyes as Pero’s hold on your waist tightens, “Xiǎo Huā (little flower), you could still come with me.”

“And you could stay.”

You both know that neither is possible, but the repetition of this oft held discussion is in and of itself a ritual, a vow of sorts to remind each other of the depth of your feelings: that it’s only honour and commitment to duty, something neither of you takes lightly, that can overrule the devotion you’ve pledged to one another.

“I owe him my life.”

“And I her, many times over.”

His resolve to make up for his mistake in trusting Ballard, to repay William for giving up the black powder for his life, to prove his worthiness of their friendship, all etched as deeply in his face as the scar that cuts over his left eye.  Pero’s conviction only raises him in your esteem, understanding your lover as surely as he does you in your resolution to stand loyal with Commander Lin, whose next assignment from the emperor is uncertain now that the Tao Tei have been defeated.  It’s entirely possible that your all-female regiment will be reassigned to the royal palace, dispatched to some other far off defense post, or even disbanded and sent back to your village homes and families.  Whatever the future has in store, you remain in support of your mentor and leader, your friend.

These ties and chains that you each bind upon yourselves are as unbreakable as they are voluntary; neither you nor Pero would ask the other to break them, even knowing that you cannot be together while they’re worn.  None of this requires words or explanation - you both hold these truths heavy in your hearts but never against one another.  Resting your forehead against Pero’s, the two of you sigh at the tenderness of the gesture, content in the moment.

Bound by duty to be apart… but not without hope. 

“I will return for you.”

“The journey to the East is treacherous,” you smile but your eyes sadden at the acknowledgment of this reality.

“I know.  I’ve made it before.”

“If I recall, you nearly died.  And you were brought in restrained.”

“Those restraints brought me to you, Xiǎo Huā,” Pero’s hand comes up to lovingly stroke your face, “and they tie me to you still, always and forever.”

You nuzzle into the safety of his wide palm, soaking in the affection cradled in his touch.

“When I am free, I will come to you willing and without chains or restriction, praying you will still have me,” though Pero does not doubt your heart, life has taught him that hope is a privilege not many are able to afford.

Eyes bright, you press your lips to Pero’s waiting pout and kiss him gentle and true, murmuring your own promise, “Yǒng yuǎn (forever).”

🎶Original lyrics (English translation below):

Adesso vieni qui E chiudi dolcemente gli occhi tuoi Vedrai che la tristezza passerà Il resto poi chissà Verrà domani Voglio star con te Baciare le tue labbra dirti che In questo tempo dove tutto passa Dove tutto cambia Noi siamo ancora qua E non abbiam bisogno di parole Per spiegare quello che è nascosto in fondo al nostro cuore Ma ti solleverò Tutte le volte che cadrai E raccoglierò i tuoi fiori che per strada perderai E seguirò il tuo volo Senza interferire mai Perché quello che voglio È stare insieme a te Senza catene Stare insieme a te Vieni più vicino E sciogli i tuoi capelli, amore mio Il sole ti accarezza Ti accarezzo anch'io E tu sei una rosa rossa Vieni più vicino Accendi questo fuoco amore mio E bruceranno tutte le paure Adesso lasciati andare E non abbiam bisogno di parole Per spiegare quello che è nascosto in fondo al nostro cuore Ma ti solleverò Tutte le volte che cadrai E raccoglierò i tuoi fiori che per strada perderai E seguirò il tuo volo Senza interferire mai Perché quello che voglio È stare insieme a te Senza catene Stare insieme a te Ma ti solleverò Tutte le volte che cadrai E raccoglierò i tuoi fiori che per strada perderai E seguirò il tuo volo Senza interferire mai Perché quello che voglio È stare insieme a te Senza catene Stare insieme a te

🎶Translation:

Now come here And close your eyes gently You will see that the sadness will pass The rest then who knows It will come tomorrow I want to be with you Kiss your lips tell you that In this time where everything passes Where everything changes We are still here And we don't need words To explain what is hidden deep in our hearts But I will lift you up Every time you fall And I will pick your flowers that you will lose on the road And I will follow your flight Without ever interfering Because what I want Is to be with you Without chains To be with you Come closer And let your hair down, my love The sun caresses you I caress you too And you are a red rose Come closer Light this fire my love And all the fears will burn Now let go And we don't need words To explain what is hidden deep in our hearts But I will lift you up Every time that you will fall And I will pick your flowers that you will lose on the road And I will follow your flight Without ever interfering Because what I want Is to be with you Without chains To be with you But I will lift you up Every time you fall And I will pick your flowers that you will lose on the road And I will follow your flight Without ever interfering Because what I want Is to be with you Without chains To be with you

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!! Love your acc, it's really useful for fics <33 I was wondering if you knew any fics that elaborated on the morgue scene (the one where john beat up shrelock) bc i always felt it was very brushed over in the series and frankly i think it needed to be elaborated on more.

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, yeah, I think I've been asked this a few times and I've just not ever posted a proper list. So because I need a list for this week, here's all of my TLD-adjacent fics I found doing a tag-search AND from old replies to other asks! Hope you enjoy, and add your own if you have them, friends!

TLD FIX-ITS / AFTERMATH of TLD 

BOOKMARKS

Bridges by sussexbound (M, 6,602 w., 1 Ch || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Love Confessions, Mending Relationships, Moving Back In, Pining Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Past Abuse, Shaving) – The silence between them is deafening, interrupted only by the hum of the traffic outside, and the soft click-clunk of the plastic cups Rosie is playing with on the floor beside them. It is the first time they have been alone together, since Sherlock’s birthday. It’s only been two days, but it feels huge, important, like there is a precarious bridge stretched out before them both that they need to at least attempt to traverse.

The In-Between by blueink3 (M, 10,679 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Parentlock, Fix-It Fic, Canon Compliant) – Beginning in a Chinese restaurant and ending at the bottom of a well, what about the moments we didn’t see?

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (E, 109,272 w., 60 Ch. || S4 Compliant to TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock’s Italian Adventure, Sherlock/OC and Johnlock, Jealous John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, First Kiss/Time, Idiots in Love, 3 Part Story, Slow Burn, Inexperienced Sherlock, Bottom Sherlock, Introspection, Multiple Alternating First and Third Person POV, Separation and Reconciliation, Emotional Love Making, Love Confessions via Letters, Angst with Happy Ending) – After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being.  Part 1 of the Drawn to Stars series

MARKED FOR LATER

toasting to grief by slylyaddictedtostories(T, 181 w., 1 Ch. || Poetry || Post T6T / TLD, Missing Scene) – John mussing over a drink about (missing) Sherlock and everything (he) they lost

Reconciliation by standbygo (T, 221 w, 1 Ch. || TLD Missing Scene, 221B Ficlet, Fix it Fic) – A missing scene from S4E2, "The Lying Detective". The hug was beautiful, but I wanted to add to it. My mother once said to me that you can forgive on your own, but you need to reconcile together.

My Heart Beats For You by jalexandria (M, 1,212 w., 1 Ch. || Hanahaki Disease AU || TLD Divergence, Angst, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sad Ending, Drugs, Pining Sherlock, Hurt John, Death Fic) – Things go very, very badly when John makes a horrible mistake.

Sherlock chooses himself by thewallflower07 (G, 2,035 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / No TFP, No Parentlock, Dialogue Heavy, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock and Feelings, John is Not Good, Angst) – Sherlock is a physical and emotional mess after John beats him bloody during the Culverton Smith case. He visits his therapist, who tells him to be selfish for the first time in his life. When John appears with his daughter and asks him to move back, Sherlock has to make a very difficult decision.

Reasons Wretched and Divine by Anyawen (G, 2,218 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix-It, John Has Issues, Admissions, Apologies, Explanations, Conversations, Emotions, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Fic, Drama & Angst, Declarations, Suicide, Assault, Marriage, Death, Drug Use, Guilt) – In the aftermath of Smith's arrest, John faces his anger and his regrets, exposing his vulnerabilities to Sherlock. They find ways to heal together.

Antiseptic by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,599 w., 1 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix-It, Unseen Moments, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional / Psychological Abuse, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Protective Mycroft, Protective Greg, BAMF Mrs Hudson, Requited Unrequited Love) – What did John hear on that secret tape from Culverton’s hospital?

It Is What It Is by SpookyPorg (T, 3,874 w., 1 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Angst, Hug Scene, Love Confessions, Pining, Happy Ending, Making Out, Grief, First Kiss / Time) – After the very traumatizing events at the hospital, and John's heroic last-minute rescue, Sherlock is recovering at 221B. Doing his part to keep Sherlock under strict supervision, John pays a visit to his old flat for the first time in months. Reconciliation leads to confession.

The Tragedy Of Us by LipstickDaddy (G, 3,898 w., 2 Ch. || Post TLD, Angst, Romance, Tragedy, Hurt / Comfort, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Miscommunication, Requited Unrequited Love, Ambiguous / Open Ending) – John reflects on his relationship with Sherlock while the man is convalescing in hospital— twice.

wires Series by highfunctioningsociopath (M, 5,000+ w. across 2 works || Series WiP || Post T6T / TLD, Angst, Hurt / No Comfort, Loneliness, Mind Palace, Survivor Guilt, Mental Health Issues, Drug Addiction / Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Sherlock POV, Missing Scenes, Introspection, Psychological Trauma, Abusive Relationships, Grey Mary, Withdrawal, Depression, Self-Esteem Issues) – The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, after all. It just so happens to be lined with self-destruction.

I Want to Hear You Say It by LollipopCop (M, 8,000 w., 2 Ch. || TLD / S4 Fix It, Suicidal Thoughts, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Suffocation, Crying, First Kiss, Pining Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Instead of making Sherlock say he doesn't want to die, Culverton Smith forces Sherlock to repeatedly confess that he loves John before his death.

The Waning of Withdrawal by LoloLolly (E, 8,248 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix-It, First Kiss, First Time, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Sexual Identity, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Sherlock's Scars, Bed Sharing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Guilt) – Sherlock holds a weeping John in his arms and… does something that will forever change things between them. For better or worse. He fears the latter.

Slowly Suffocating by meet_me_in_samarra (M, 9,500 w., 7 Ch. || TLD Fix It, Suffocation, Hurt / Comfort, Whump) – Getting suffocated took some time. Enough time for Sherlock to ponder what went wrong. Hopefully also long enough for John to arrive and rescue him. Culverton Smith applied more pressure, impatient to turn Sherlock into a dead thing. A continuous story written for Whumptober 2023, following the 31 prompts for each day.

And Then There Were Two by NimWallace (T, 10,194 w., 20 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Angst, Grief / Mourning, Mystery, Cults) – It's quiet at Baker Street. Too quiet. It's been a year since Mary died, but only a few months since the events of the Final Problem, and Sherlock and John have fallen into a state of despairing and monotony. So when a case involving a vicious cult on the English Country side appears, they quickly jump to go undercover as Sean Harmony and John Wales. But how can Sherlock keep a delicate John from breaking? And how can John come to terms with his love for his detective? Most importantly, what really happened the night of the Final Problem?

The Death and Resurrection of a Beekeeper by shiplocks_of_love (M, 12,922 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || TLD / S4 Fix-It Fic, Sherlock’s Retirement, Sussex / Seaside, Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Trauma, Angst with Hopeful Ending, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Partial Epistolary, No Eurus) – Sherlock escapes London for a quiet, solitary life in Sussex, exhausted after the whirlwind of drama following Mary’s death. One day, a letter arrives.

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (T, 13,120 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas-Carol Inspired || Post S3/Post-TLD / TFP Doesn't Exist, Christmas, Angst, Fluff, Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Magical Realism) – It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

The Ashes on the Ground by 221Beloved (M, 13,545+ w., 5/22 Ch. || WiP || Post-TLD, Miscommunication, Pining, Depression, Angst with Happy Ending, POV Sherlock) –What happens after? After the fire has burnt down and left nothing but ashes? Roughly two and a half years after what happened at Smith's hospital, things have settled. But have they really? Or is it all still hovering. And what if someone whirls up the ashes again? An old acquaintance. Can something new arise from cold ashes? Something stronger?

Entitled by Ranowa (T, 14,023 w., 2 Ch. || TLD Timeline, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Paternal Lestrade, John’s a Bit Not Good, Sherlock is a Mess) – Lestrade draws a line, because he knows Sherlock won't. 

Hope is a Subtle Glutton by isitandwonder (E, 15,753 w., 1 Ch. || No Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC, Racism, Aftermath of Violence, Happy Ending) – This is a story about Sherlock Holmes finally finding love and the happiness he deserves - just not with John Watson.

Angry Men by FawnHickory (M, 16,975 w., 16 Ch. || WiP || Post TLD Morgue Incident, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self Examination, Big Brother Mycroft, Past Abuse, Sad Sherlock) – Greg gave John some things to consider in Destroy Him. John faces some uncomfortable truths about himself. Part 2 of the A Good Man and An Angry Man

What It Can Be by amaruuk (T, 18,310 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD, Healing Friendship, Mutual Pining, First Kisses, Cake) – "Which is why we're all taking it in turns to keep you off the sweeties." With the help of his friends, Sherlock is healing from drug overuse and physical injuries. He is also trying to salvage his friendship with John with the hope that, perhaps, they can make it something more.

Hot Water Bottle by khorazir (T, 18,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Autumn, Bed Sharing, Developing Relationship, First Kiss) – A case in one of the remotest corners of the Lake District, a storm, an inn, a broken boiler, a room with two beds but only one hot water bottle, and two men who have a lot to sort out between them – all of this makes for a night to remember.

Contrition by sussexbound (E, 18,556+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Post-S4/TFP Didn’t Happen, Rosie Doesn’t Exist, T6T/TLD is Canon, Year After TLD, Light BDSM, Soft Dom Sherlock / Sub John, Punishment, Light Bondage, Light Masochism / No Sadism, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness, Aftercare, Forgiveness, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Frottage, Communication, Sexual Negotiation, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Head Injury, Anal Sex) – “You’ve been tense ever since we got back, itching for a fight, all your usual tells, but why…?” The truth strikes like lightning. “Oh… Oh! You’re not angry at me. Not this time. Well—maybe a little. But mostly, mostly you’re angry at yourself. Why? For falling behind? For not being there in time. For not taking Wilkes down fast enough?” Sherlock waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He lifts a finger to his swollen cheek and cut eyebrow. “You blame yourself for this. And you offered to fix it. But I wouldn’t let you, and… But that’s not what you really want, anyway, is it?” John looks stunned, a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry, frozen, waiting for the lethal strike. “You don’t want me to let you help. At least not right away. No. What you want, what you really want is—punishment.”

The Nearer Your Destination by Silvergirl (E, 18,949  w., 6 Ch. || Post-TLD, Established Relationship, Wedding, Venice Honeymoon, Parentlock, Jealousy) – After a December wedding, Sherlock takes John to Venice for a February honeymoon. It's absolutely perfect, up until the moment he hears John growl, "What the hell is Zanardi doing here?" Part 4 of the Drawn to Stars series

Repentance by LollipopCop (E, 19,782 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TLD/Post S4 Fix It, Not TFP-Compliant, John-Centric, Angst, Self-Loathing, Hugging, First Kiss/Time, Rosie, Love Confessions, Crying, John’s Issues) – John cannot understand why Sherlock even wants to look at him after the horrible way he acted, and his guilt is destroying him. Why doesn’t Sherlock snap at him, scream at him, treat him the way he deserves?

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Misfortune by Sherlockwatsonholmesblog (M, 20,455+ w., 4/7 Ch || Post TLD, Five Stages of Grief, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Implied / Referenced Suicide, Self Hatred, Slow Burn, Emotional Trauma, Recovery) – There seems to be something tragic in a friendship so coloured by romance, for they have loved each other immensely. However, Some Days, love isn’t enough. Sherlock and John persevering, as always.

Becoming Us (A reunion in three parts) by addicted2hugh (E, 23,207 w., 3 Ch. || S4 Fix It, Pining Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, First Time, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Light Parentlock, Bottom Sherlock, Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Sherlock is a Mess) – After watching Mary's last message, Sherlock and John try to be the "Baker Street Boys" again. Rebuilding the destroyed flat is the easy part. Will they manage to rebuild their friendship as well? And what did Mary mean when she said: "And if I'm gone, I know what you could become."?

Danger Nights by khorazir (T, 23,591 w., 3 Ch. || Post-TLD, Friends to Lovers, Mentioned Parentlock, Pining, First Kiss/Time, Winter, Folklore, Wales, Spooky Elements, Bed Sharing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Spooky Elements) – According to folklore, the nights between Christmas and Twelfth Night are the most dangerous of the year. During them, the Wild Hunt rides, and ghosts and demons come out to haunt unsuspecting and misbehaving folk. An investigation of a series of strange occurrences leads John and Sherlock to Hay-on-Wye on the Welsh Marches, to face ghosts weird and ancient as well as close and personal – and perhaps to start the new year on a more hopeful note than the previous one.

the silence of your words by dyingofangst (E, 27,326 w., 6 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Isn’t Canon, Case Fic, Estranged Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Night Conversations, Self-Esteem Issues) – Three years after John decided to distance himself from Sherlock, Rosie is kidnapped and John asks for Sherlock's help. But they're not what they used to be, and even if they learned how to heal on their own, there are still many things left unsaid between them, things they'll have to put aside to focus on finding Rosie, while both hoping it's not too late.

under the burden of solitude by subtext-is-my-division (E, 27,947 w., 5 Ch. || S3/S4 Fix It/Post TLD, Angst, Grief/Mourning, First Kiss, Mentions of Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Fantasies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Suicidal Thoughts Mentions, Five and Ones) – Five times they shared a bed platonically, and one time they didn't.

Entangled by missselene (E, 29,044 w., 13 Ch. || Original Male Character, One-Sided Johnlock, Online Dating, Lonely Sherlock, Dancing, First Kiss, Oblivious John, Dev. Rel., Jealous John) – Sherlock knows John will never return his feelings. So what if he decided to look for love elsewhere? Part 1 of the Sherlock & Sanjay series

Lessons in Astronomy Series by CaitlinFairchild (E, 31,164 w. across 3 stories || Angst, Post S3, Grief/Mourning, Mildly DubCon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Oral/Anal Sex, Unrequited Love, Pining, Sibling Incest (No Actual Holmescest), Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, Drug Addiction, Romance, Dev. Rel., Trust Issues, Happy Ending) – In a different time, a more naive time, Sherlock thought he was the star and John the satellite, circling him in worshipful orbit. He knows now that was never true. John was always the sun, bright and fierce, and Sherlock was the pale, cold moon, his only heat coming from the light he reflected. And then his sun went into supernova. Moriarty said he would burn him and he has, and John is the fire, his rage and grief incinerating Sherlock, burning the heart out of him in the end, turning him into nothing but cinder and ash. And now the supernova is collapsing, a black hole born where there was once warmth and heat and love, and Sherlock is being pulled down, down past the event horizon, into the endless frozen void where nothing can ever escape.

A Case for Domestic Propinquity by SilentAuror (E, 32,308 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TFP / Post S4 Fix It, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Domesticity) – As Sherlock and John renovate Baker Street with Rosie underfoot, Sherlock can't help but wondering how he could possibly convince John to just stay indefinitely... [TRANSLATIONS: 中文-普通话國語] | Русский]

Afghan Bullets, Beards, and Unlocked Bedroom Doors Series by addicted2hugh (E, 38,761+ w. across 2 works || WiP || Post-S4, Bearded John, Porn With Feelings, Friends to Lovers, First Time, Virgin Sherlock, References to Canon, Flashbacks, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Use, References to Suicide, Grief/Mourning, Top Sherlock, Reunion) – Set after series 4. The boys are living together again, and John's new style drives Sherlock crazy. He's trying to keep his besotted heart and over-excited libido a secret, but John has other plans. Lots. Of. SEX. And love.

A Thing With Peas by khorazir (M, 39,5537 w., 3 Ch. || Post-S3/Post-TLD/TFP Doesn't Exist, Fluff and Angst, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Asexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, Developing Relationship, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Parentlock, First Kiss) – Sherlock does the laundry. John cooks a thing with peas. They talk. Finally.

Limerence by SherlockWatson_Holmes (NR, 41,763 w., 17 Ch. || S4 / TLD Fix It, Character Death, Drug Use, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending) – Limerence (noun); The state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person: typically characterised by a strong desire to maintain a relationship with the object of love and have one’s feelings reciprocated. S4 fix-it, starting on the tarmac.

Nocturne by SilentAuror (E, 47,927 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4 / S4 Fix It, Trauma, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, POV John, Sherlock Whump) – When Sherlock is injured at a crime, an avalanche of suppressed trauma opens up. John ends up moving into his bedroom to ward off the nightmares, hoping against hope that this arrangement can last indefinitely. This is a story of nights spent together, trauma recovery, and John finally learning some truths long hidden.

The Night Is Darkest by missselene (E, 48,461 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TLD, Extremely Dub Con, S4 Rage Monster John, Insecure Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Exploration, Healing, Self Care, Self Acceptance, Sexual Exploration, Casual Sex, Gentle Sex, Sherlock/OMC, Threesome with 2 OMCs, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Communication, Internalized Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation) –  Sherlock Holmes would do anything for John Watson... and that includes letting John do whatever he wants to him. What would it take for Sherlock to stand up for himself and finally start taking care of his own needs?

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (M, 57,216 w., 10 Ch. || TLD Divergence / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Minor Lestrolly, Pining Sherlock, John’s a Mess, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Ghost Mary, Guilt, Forgiveness, Drinking, No Hug Scene) – In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them.And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (M, 68,552 w., 6 Ch. || Magical Realism / Discworld Elements || Post TLD, Miscommunication, L-Space, Developing Relationship, Parentlock, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Bookshop) – After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only constitutes of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

This Would Make You Happy? by Ranowa (M, 71,217 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TLD Fix It, Past Viclock, Past Sherlock/OMC, Therapy, Protective John, Drug Use, Pining, Autistic Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending) – John, more than anything else, wants Sherlock to be happy. Sherlock, more than anything else, wants to make John happy. These two goals are not as in sync as one would think.

"Merry Christmas" I wrapped it up and sent it with a note saying "I love you" by starrysummernights (E, 135,132+ w., 30/31 Ch. || WIP || Post S4, Slow Burn, Mary is Not Nice, Christmas, Fluff, Smut, Angst, Parentlock, Past Torture / Rape) – John has moved back into 221B with his daughter Rosie after Mary was killed, but things are not exactly comfortable between him and Sherlock. After everything that has happened, they are trying to become friends again...and maybe something more. What better time than the Christmas season?! Takes place after TLD.

Limitless Ocean by angel-loving-star (M, 150,730+ w., 21/36 Ch. || WIP || Post-TLD / S4 Fix It, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, John's PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Sherlock Whump, Alcohol Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Fluff, Parentlock, Coming Out, Nightmares, Panic / Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, Alternating POV, Suicidal Ideation, Self-Harm Ideation, Internalized Homophobia, Closeted John, Angst, Insomnia, Domestics, Cuddling / Snuggling, Gay Sherlock) – Sherlock is recovering from the Culverton Smith case. But there are some things that time or body can't heal. When John and Rosie unexpectedly move back in 221B the day after Sherlock's birthday, nothing is as it used to be. Both he and John are treading on thin ice. It is only a matter of time until the first cracks appear. Until they begin to sink into the freezing waters of the ocean beneath, and are forced to face their demons, each other, and what has been lurking in the dark for far, far too long. Until it is only them, the promise of sky above the surface, and the limitless ocean flooding into their hearts.

The Chemist by TheGracefulBlueCat (M, 158,385 w., 46/? Ch. || WiP || TLD Fix-It, Drug Use and Withdrawal, Hurt/Comfort, Doctor John, Protective Mycroft, Sick Sherlock, Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, Victorian Sherlock, Asperger’s Sherlock, Sherlock Is Not Okay, Papa Lestrade, Drunkenness, Autistic Sherlock, Synesthesia, Insecure Sherlock, Angst, Sick Fic, Case Fic, Asylums) – Sherlock returns to Baker Street and faces detox. But he feels too exhausted and bad to go through it fully conscious, so he - once more - uses his mind palace to distract him with an old case. But due to his drug issues and the tension between him and John things don’t work as smoothly as everyone hoped they would, confronting Sherlock and all his friends with more of their demons than they would have liked to.

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in:

July 2nd, 2024 🎀

Hello! I'm backkkkk! Now that I'm finally doing stuff again, I figured I'd start my daily check ins again and keep myself motivated and accountable with doing productive stuff daily! no challenges, no pressure, just an understanding that something is better than nothing!

🩷 What I Accomplished:

took a 2.5 hour nap in the morning (had an anxiety attack randomly that left ne absolutely exhausted but the nap was so nice)

reviewed a few Spanish lessons on Busuu

completed 2 new Spanish lessons on Busuu

completed 2 Korean Hangul lessons on Busuu

booked an Italki Spanish lesson for July 15th

booked an Italki trial lesson in Korean for July 24th (pushing myself to learn the alphabet and study as much as possible til then so I won't be an absolute absolute beginner, hopefully)

reached out to a tattoo/piercing shop about some piercings my friends and I want to maybe get while in Colorado

bought a margarita pizza from a little Italian pizza shop and it was DELICIOUS

journaled in the morning

did my night time skincare (I needed it, my face was dry and flaky)

drank ~40oz of water (definitely should've drank more)

reached out to an online health and fitness coach, so we'll see how that goes, if it goes anywhere

💔 What Could've Gone Better:

random anxiety attack stopped me from going to workout so I stayed in bed most of the day, exhausted

didn't get many steps in or do much in general

ate 4 out of the 6 slices of pizza (it was comforting, idk. it happens, so I won't beat myself up. saved those 2 slices for my roommates if she wants them!)

could've definitely spent less time on tiktok and more time studying the languages I'm trying to learn

might even broken my middle toe on my left foot after slamming it into the side of a bottom drawer that I didn't know was open

💗 Stuff For Tomorrow (July 3rd)

make all necessary payments (rent, new apartment, credit cards, etc)

study Spanish a bit (~1 hour or more)

study Korean Hangul a decent amount (~1 hour, or more, preferably)

try to workout or at least keep my steps up

do laundry

wash our towels (housekeeping here in seriously not the best)

find somewhere to buy Tylenol and tape for my (most likely) broken toe

try not to spend too much money eating out today, since I got paid

do not forget to take my medications!

morning journaling and night journaling

doing my skincare in the morning and at night

keeping up with my hygiene in general, like brushing teeth, shower exfoliation, Shaving, etc (kinds like having a self care maintenance day)

💕 Song of The Day: Girls Never Die - tripleS

this is my favorite song to listen to on the bus home from work at the moment

not much left to say, but today will definitely be a good day for me! I'll make sure of it

til next time lovelies 🩷

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 01x23 - My Friend, WereGarurumon / WereGarurumon's Diner

Previously on Digimon Adventure: Yamato went out for cigarettes and I guess he didn't find them because that was three days ago. As he left, he forgot to tell Takeru not to talk to strangers. So Takeru talked to strangers. So, so much.

Now it's time to learn what became of Yamato.

Yamato and Gabumon pull up to the shore, elsewhere on this vast lake.

Yamato: Where are we? Did the wind blow us off-course? Gabumon: Huh? Look over there! Yamato: Digimon? But why?

Gabumon calls Yamato's attention to a Monzaemon, Cockatrimon, and Yukidarumon all heading the same direction. Likely not the ones we've met before, since two of those guys are on File Island and the other one exploded.

(Yamato, how could the wind blow you off-course? Not only are you in a pedal boat but you were scouting. You didn't have a course.)

Dub Gabumon and Matt reverse their roles here.

Gabumon: Where are we, Matt? Don't tell me we're lost again. Yamato: Okay, I won't. But just take a look at that ridge up there. Gabumon: Where? (looks) Hey! Other Digimon! Yamato: I say we follow them wherever they're going and hope they're not lost too.

Yamato and Gabumon get in line and follow the grown-ups to a cozy little establishment just down the road.

Yukidarumon: The usual! Kakigori! Cockatrimon: Me too! Monzaemon: A bowl of purin, please. Vegiemon: Sure! Your orders are all set. Thank you for your continued patronage.

"Italian ice", subtitle? Italian ice is similar to a snow cone, in that it's made without applying any dairy to the concoction. It's ice and syrup, but mixed together during the freezing process instead of pouring the syrup on already-frozen ice.

It's delicious. I love it. But that's not what kakigori is. Kakigori is distinguished from your typical snow cone by its shaving process, which produces incredibly fine shavings that require a spoon to eat. Also, kakigori does sometimes use milk for flavor.

Monzaemon orders purin, which is literally pudding, but a specific kind of pudding. It's a custard pudding topped with caramel.

The dub localizes... most of this order adequately.

Frigimon: The usual, waiter: A large snow cone! Kokatorimon: Same here! Monzaemon: Mmhmm. And rotten fruit! Vegiemon: Okay, okay! I got it! A #4 and two specials!

Wait, how can the snow cones be "the usual" if they're today's special? Those two dining concepts don't go together. Also, rotten fruit? Why? Why rotten specifically?

This is the kind of gag you usually do when, like, you're writing an ultra-evil villain who's so evil that their basic lifestyle choices are sinister inversions of normal things. "I brush my teeth with Coca-Cola and wait for my bananas to rot before eating them!" But. It's Monzaemon, the cuddliest of teddy bears. Weird.

From here, the narrator delivers the rundown with a most unfortunate romanization of Vegiemon's name.

XD No, I'm sorry, but we will not be calling him Vagimon. The katakana of his name clearly spells out "Bejiemon".

It probably goes without saying, but yes, the dub did break out the black sharpie for that portion of the screen.

In any case, it's time for the rundown. Vegiemon is an Adult-stage Virus-type Plant Digimon. Bit of a loser too. Conceived as his bracket's equivalent to Numemon or Scumon. Poorly trained, ill cared for, and - notably - overfed. Hence running a diner.

Narrator: Vegiemon. A small Digimon who can skillfully maneuver with his vines. Though lacking in offensive capability, his personality is atrociously atrocious. In short, he's mean.

Over in the dub, Joe spoils his involvement in this episode to give us our diegetic rundown.

Joe: Meet Vegiemon, the maniacal manager of a run-down cafe. He puts a new spin on the term 'slave driver'.

Joe calls the place run-down, which may explain why they serve rotten fruit. In the original it's just. Like. Some diner. Nothing remarkable one way or another.

As Yamato and Gabumon approach his diner, they suddenly hear a commotion from within.

Vegiemon: Hey! Go find some more customers!

Vegiemon hurls Gomamon out the door, landing him right in front of Yamato and Gabumon.

Yamato: Gomamon? Gabumon: Gomamon! Gomamon: Gabumon? Yamato! Yamato: So, does this mean Jou is here?

Sure enough, the boys enter the kitchen to find Jou making soup.

Not 100% sure on child labor rights in Japan but Jou is 12 so this would probably be illegal where he comes from. Of course, whether it is or isn't, Japanese law doesn't apply to Server Continent.

(In fact, with the Digimon King dead, do we even have any laws anymore? I wonder what Etemon's judicial policy was like. Do you think he settled lawsuits via dance-off? Questions for later; The boys have a reunion to get to.)

Jou: Yamato! Yamato: Jou! So this is where you've been. Jou: (sheepish) Uh, yeah.... Yamato: Everyone split up after what happened. Takeru and I are the only ones left. Jou: Yeah, about that. Remember how we divvied up the work and I went looking for food? Well, what happened was....

Jou's story begins with scavenging. Joe, on the other hand, starts his tale a bit different.

Joe: It started when we all went our separate ways to look for Tai.

Reinforcing that, in the dub, they never gave up on Tai. Though, according to the last episode, they split up to look for Sora. Honestly, I'm not sure the dub knows who they were looking for anymore.

We already know why Sora left. Now, as Jou enters into a flashback, we get to learn about the fate that befell him. It seems PicoDevimon ensnared him with an oldie but a goodie.

PicoDevimon: You're a human, aren't you? Jou: Eh? PicoDevimon: I saw a lot of other beings like you not far from here. Jou: EHHHH!?!? There are other humans here besides us!? PicoDevimon: If you don't hurry, they might leave and we won't know where they went. Let's go, I'll take you there. Jou: Th-thank you, but-- PicoDevimon: (takes flight) HURRY, HURRY!!! LET'S GO!!! Jou: (reluctant) R-right! (gives chase)

There's a fan-theory that PicoDevimon is Devimon reincarnated. At some point in the last couple months, he hatched from his Digitama, grew to Child-stage, and made his way to Server to regroup with the other servants of Apocalymon. The way he seizes on such a specific vulnerability for Jou here, one that hasn't come up at any point on Server, makes a compelling argument for it.

PicoDevimon leads Jou out of the desert, only to vanish somewhere.

Jou: (V.O.) Along the way, we lost sight of him. We tried to turn back, but we couldn't find any familiar landmarks. Just when our stomachs started grumbling, we found this restaurant.

And the dub scores a point. Jou did, in fact, just get lost while wandering around. Though the fates of Koushiro (also alleged lost) and Mimi (swallowed by the desert IDK) remain unknown.

The dub can't lean on Jou wanting to find humans, since they scrubbed that plot point from File Island's entire arc. So instead, Joe just got lost wandering the desert because he sucks at navigation.

Joe: (V.O.) I wasn't lost. I definitely knew where I wasn't; I just didn't know where I was. I think. DemiDevimon: You're lost, aren't you? Joe: AUGH! Why would you sneak up on me like that!?

Note: DemiDevimon is standing directly in front of Joe.

Joe: Who are you!? DemiDevimon: Just a friend. I thought you'd like to know I saw some other humans just like you nearby! Joe: You say you saw my friends!? Which way!? DemiDevimon: (takes flight) This way! But we gotta hurry before we lose 'em! Joe: (V.O.) I was sure he was leading us the wrong way, but who was I to question him? It's not like I knew my way around. Eventually, we ended up at this restaurant which, at the time, was good because we were starving!

It's basically, the same, but swapping out Generic Humans for the other DigiDestined, since Joe's lost and all. Not bad. B+ in covering up for problems created by past decisions.

Jou and Gomamon eat their fill, but things take a sharp turn southward when they go to pay their check.

Vegiemon: Thanks for your patronage! Jou: Will this be enough? Vegiemon: (glances at the bill) Sir, don't joke around.

Suddenly, a Numemon bounces up onto the counter to pay his own bill. He sets down a nice, crisp $10 bill. American.

Jou: (shocked) ...dollar? Vegiemon: OF COURSE!!! Jou: You... don't accept Japanese yen? Vegiemon: Huh? What's that? Jou: ... Vegiemon: (realizing) D... Don't tell me... YOU CAN'T PAY!?!?

In Jou's defense, this is an easy mistake to make. How could he possibly have known we've slipped over into the American side of Digimon World when everybody's speaking Japanese?

Here, we have another problem that the dub's going to have to deal with. They've been trying to present the kids' home as ambiguously the U.S.-ish. So the dollar vs. yen plot point isn't going to work here. Gonna be hard to bullshit around that bill on the counter, too, because the camera goes in for a closeup on the tenner.

What are you going to do with this, dub team? Let's see it.

Vegiemon: And now, the bill! Joe: Oh, of course! This should be enough. Vegiemon: What are you, some kinda comedian, pal!? Joe: Huh? Numemon: (hops up to pay) Here you go, Vegiemon! (Closeup on the $10 bill) Joe: (shocked) ...dollar bills!? Vegiemon: WHAT DID YOU EXPECT!?!? Joe: W-Well, I was... Um... Um... Uhhh... All I have are DigiDollars? Vegiemon: Some play money is all you have!? Joe: ... Vegiemon: So. What I'm hearing is... YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT I'D LET YOU EAT WITHOUT PAYING!?!?

Okay. So. There exists a fictional currency called DigiDollars. That the children possess, but is not accepted for goods and services in Digimon World. Digimon just use American bucks, not that weird human currency DigiDollars.

F. XD This one gets an F. Would it have been that hard to just cut the shot of the dollar bill? You've cut so many shots already.

Back in the present, Yamato summarizes.

Yamato: So now they're making you work to pay off your bills. Jou: Yeah. I didn't think it would turn out like this.

Already we can kinda see red flags in this situation. Like. It was one meal. Having to wash dishes for a night is reasonable but why is he still here?

Suddenly, Vegiemon storms into the kitchen.

Vegiemon: YOU'RE LATE!!! THE CUSTOMERS ARE WAITING!!! Hurry up and serve the food! Jou: Y-Yes, sir!

Jou pours what looks like beef stew into a bowl. This is neither kakigori nor purin so I guess they got more customers while Jou was reminiscing.

Vegiemon takes the bowl from the counter, then notices Yamato and Gabumon.

Vegiemon: Hm? Who are you? Yamato: I'm his friend. Vegiemon: So what are you doing back here? You got some business to take care of?

Vegiemon tastes the stew, then screams and throws it at the counter.

Vegiemon: DISGUSTING!!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FEED THIS TO CUSTOMERS!?!? MAKE A NEW ONE!!! Jou: Oh no.... Vegiemon: I'm adding that to your debt too! Jou: Ehhhh!? Yamato: How long do you have to work to pay it off? Jou: Well, at first, it was only supposed to be three days. But every time I make a mistake, it gets extended. Now it's up to two weeks! Vegiemon: It's not my fault! I'm just taking back the losses I've suffered from this guy!

I think someone needs to explain the Sunk Cost Fallacy to Vegiemon. If employing Jou is bringing in more expense than profit, he's better off eating his losses and throwing Jou out on his ass. At a certain point, you just have to stop throwing good money after bad.

Over in the dub, I gotta say, Vegiemon's English actor is phenomenal and understood the assignment so well. He plays Mean Capitalist Jackass to a T, and spices it up with a Brooklyn accent.

Vegiemon: HEY, WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!?!? I'M NOT GETTING RICHER WITH YOU CHIT-CHATTIN'!!! (commercial break, returning on a replay of Vegiemon bursting into the kitchen) Vegiemon: WHAT, YOU WANT ME TO SAY PRETTY PLEASE!? DISH OUT THAT STEW!!! Joe: Waugh! Okay! Alright! Quit yelling or you're going to make me spill all over my pants! Vegiemon: Ha! About time. (notices Matt and Gabumon) Who are these jokers? Matt: We're friends of Joe and Gomamon. Vegiemon: Well, whoop-de-doo and good for you! (tastes the stew and then chucks it) RARGH!!! DISGUSTING!!! I CAN'T GIVE THAT TO MY CUSTOMERS!!! Joe: Um... But... But I.... Vegiemon: Now you'll work an extra day for the ingredients you wasted! Joe: Another day? Matt: One more day!? On top of how long, Joe? Joe: Well, first... You see, it was only supposed to be for three days but I... I kept on making mistakes and it got longer. Now I'm up to over six weeks. Vegiemon: And he still owes me for all the wasted food! Not to mention the broken dishes!

Oh, wow. Six weeks. Jou only had two. I guess we finally have quantifiable proof of how much more pathetic Joe is than Jou. :P

All this commotion pulls in the attention of another Digimon.

Digitamamon: Now, now, what's all the fuss about? Vegiemon: Digitamamon-sama!

Now it's his turn for the rundown. Digitamamon is a Perfect-stage Data-type Perfect Digimon. No, that is not redundant; His stage is Kanzentai which means completion or perfection, while his description spells out "Perfect" in katakana. "Pa-a-fu-ku-to". So they're different words, even though they're the same word.

Digitamamon is equivalent to Etemon, in that he's the kind of Perfect Digimon that someone like Vegiemon or Scumon can become if they knuckle down and start fighting hard to get there. Not them specifically, he comes from Nanimon who hasn't appeared yet, but he's of their ilk.

Narrator: Digitamamon. A Perfect-shaped Digimon shaped like a Digitama. His special attack, Nightmare Syndrome, surely crushes his opponents.

Eggmon looks like an egg and he hits hard. Not the best rundown we've ever had.

In the dub, Digitamamon's actor is doing Peter Lorre as a reference to Casablanca. A film that came out sixty years before this episode of children's television aired. Weird choice but there's no harm in it; Kids will just think it's a goofy voice.

Digitamamon: What's all the commotion in here? The customers are complaining? Matt: We didn't know it yet, but Digitamamon was an evil Digimon fully evolved and protected by his Digi-Eggshell.

What's weirder than Peter Lorre is the fact that they still call him Digitamamon even though they changed the word "Digitama". Matt even references his "Digi-Eggshell". Why isn't he Digi-Eggmon?

Sensing a chance to go over Vegiemon's head, Yamato tries to address Digitamamon directly.

Yamato: Are you the owner of this place? This guy is my friend. Can't you let him go? Digitamamon: Are you serious? Quit joking around! Though it'd be a different story if you stayed to work with him and help pay off his debt. Yamato: Well.... Digitamamon: If you can't do that, hurry up and leave! You're slowing down my business.

Digitamamon exits without another word.

Yamato: Hey, I didn't even...! Jou: I probably won't leave here for the rest of my life. Yamato: Don't get so depressed! Jou: If you say so.... Yamato: Takeru's waiting for me. I'm going to go get him, so wait for us to come back. Jou: Then.... Yamato: When I get back, I'll help you work. Okay? Jou: Yamato! I'm in your debt!

The funny thing is that there is nothing stopping Jou from making a run for it. Nobody's watching him and he's not shackled to anything. It'd be bad if Digitamamon caught him, but like a true capitalist, that guy doesn't seem to pay much attention to his own business.

But this is Jou-senpai we're talking about. The idea of cutting and running on what is clearly a corrupt contract to bind him into providing free child labor would never even cross his mind. He's been enslaved by his own sense of responsibility and social propriety.

In the dub:

Joe: I feel ill. I'm allergic to kitchen work. Matt: What are you saying? Joe: Oh, just never mind. Matt: Listen, I've gotta go and find T.K. but after I do, we'll come back here and help you work off your debt, okay? Joe: Really? You will? Matt: That's what friends do, Joe. When things are tough, they help each other out. Joe: I'll always remember this, Matt!

Mostly the same, save for Joe's quip and Matt's expanded final line. Matt puffs about the virtue of friendship for a moment to gear up for the plot that's to come.

Though he may be a greedy capitalist, Digitamamon is not working with PicoDevimon's faction. He is, however, for sale.

As he walks into his private office, he finds PicoDevimon waiting for him.

Digitamamon: Who's there!? Oh! You're PicoDevimon! PicoDevimon: (silently glances to the left) Digitamamon: What? (notices the billfold on the table) Th-This is.... I see! So, what do you want me to do? PicoDevimon: Oh, it's a very simple matter.

In the dub:

Digitamamon: WAUGH! DemiDevimon!? I... I didn't know you were coming. DemiDevimon: Hngh! (glances to the left) Digitamamon: (notices the billfold on the table) Ehee, I take it you have another job for me to do! DemiDevimon: The new boy! You mustn't let him leave here.

Bit of a character shift here. In the original, Digitamamon is unaffiliated with PicoDevimon's faction. He's just a businessman collecting passive income off Vegiemon's questionable managerial practices, but PicoDevimon gives him a wad of cash and bribes him into helping out.

The dub makes him out to be more of a mercenary. He has a pre-existing business relationship with DemiDevimon doing the bat's dirty work. And also happens to own a diner too.

We cut straight from the meeting with PicoDevimon to Yamato and Gabumon preparing to board their swan boat and return to Takeru.

Digitamamon: WAIT!!! Where do you think you're going? Yamato: Where? Digitamamon: You're going to stay here and work with them! Yamato: What's this all of a sudden? Digitamamon: THAT'S HOW THINGS WORKED OUT!!! Yamato: I'm willing to work here, but I need to leave just for a bit. I'll come right back. Digitamamon: Ohhh, so then you don't care what happens to your friend while you're gone? Yamato: What does that mean? Digitamamon: Figure it out. While you're gone, I'll be free to do whatever I want to him. Gabumon: Yamato... What should we do?

Multitask, probably. It only takes one of you to go back for Takeru and Tokomon. Then again, Yamato might be the only one who can reach the pedals and he's the one Digitamamon is specifically threatening.

The dub follows the script to a T but makes fantastic use of language to both localize and personalize this scene.

Digitamamon: Where are you going!? You're not finished! I checked the schedule. Matt: Schedule? Digitamamon: The work schedule! Now get inside and stop cooking or your fired! Matt: I quit. How's that? Digitamamon: YOU CAN'T QUIT!!! I SAY YOU STAY!!! Matt: Hey, what's the big deal, Egghead? I'm coming right back. Besides, you've already got a slave working in your kitchen. Digitamamon: Oh, I see. So you don't care what happens to your friend while you're gone? Selfish, aren't you? Matt: What are you talking about? Digitamamon: I'm just saying, while you're away, there's no telling what might happen to your poor little friend. So many accidents can happen in the kitchen, you know. Matt: Is that a threat!? Gabumon: Easy, Matt! He's already cracked!

"So many accidents can happen in the kitchen" legit gave me chills. Fantastic delivery even with the weird Lorre impersonation.

Just as Jou's been enslaved by his sense of responsibility, Yamato becomes enslaved by his sense of loyalty and returns to the diner. Jou's left confused by this change of heart.

Jou: (washing dishes, suddenly stops) Yamato? Yamato: Hm? Jou: Didn't you say you were going back for Takeru? Yamato: ... Jou: You should go. Don't worry about me. Yamato: ... Jou: Okay? Go on! You can come back when I'm just about finished. Digitamamon: (in Yamato's memories) Figure it out. While you're gone, I'll be free to do whatever I want to him. Yamato: No, it's fine. Jou: Yamato, what happened? Yamato: It's fine. Jou: You're worried about Takeru, aren't you? Go back to him-- Yamato: I SAID IT'S FINE!!! Jou: ...did I say something wrong?

And here we see the nature of PicoDevimon's opportunism. We already know from the previous episode that his and his malevolent master are trying to dim the light of the Crests, though it's not yet super clear what that means. To that end, by bribing Digitamamon into assisting, PicoDevimon has put a snare around both Jou and Yamato's necks.

In contrast to the previous scene, the dub rewrites this scene entirely to just make Joe an unobservant irritant nagging at Matt.

Joe: (washing dishes, suddenly stops) This water's hot. Matt: ... Joe: If I had some rubber gloves, my fingers wouldn't get all wrinkled. Matt: (heavy sigh) Joe: So hey! Just... What are you making over there? Is there some reason you're not talking to me? I mean, I know you think I can be irritating sometimes but what gives? Matt? Digitamamon: (in Matt's memories) So many accidents can happen in the kitchen. SO MANY ACCIDENTS!!! HEHE EHEHEHEHEHE!!! Matt: (thinking) I can't leave him. Joe: Didja hear me? Earth to Matt! Come in, Matt! Matt: (thinking) Although he does talk a lot.... Joe: Weren't you going to go get T.K.? If you want to leave, it's okay-- Matt: I DECIDED NOT TO GO!!! Joe: Wow. I'm sorry if I said something to make you mad.

They finally hit on the main point right there at the end. But the result is, it comes off like Matt's frustrated over how obnoxious and inconsiderate Joe is instead of the fact that he's trapped here away from T.K. Which is a pretty shitty way to change the plot.

After snapping at Jou, Yamato takes a moment to realize what just happened.

Yamato: (thinking) Jou said all that to be considerate to me, but I.... (speaking) I'm sorry. Jou: Eh? Yamato: I'm sorry for yelling at you. Don't worry about it. Jou: Yamato.... Yamato: Leave the cooking to me. If we work together, we'll get out of here quicker. So Ganbarou. Jou: Are you sure? I'm sorry. I'll never forget this favor. Gomamon: It will all work out! Ganbarou! Gabumon: We're with you! Jou: Yeah! Yeah, you're right!

The word here is ganbaru, conjugated to ganbarou.

Ganbaru literally means to "stretch stubbornly". It means to persevere and strive onward with hard work and discipline despite immense hardship. Often translated as "work hard" or "do our best", ganbaru is more than just an agreement to put in effort; It's a cultural value with a wide variety of utilities.

That distinction is important here, as Yamato and Gomamon are basically using it as a banner to rally around. This is going to suck, we're trapped in this hellhole and Takeru's out there but there's no way out of it but forward so... ganbarou!

Nonetheless, Yamato turns away from the group with an agonized scowl on his face. He's trying to be strong, but this is all weighing heavily on him.

The dub doesn't have ganbaru to lean on, but still captures the general idea of staying focused, working hard, and not letting yourself be buried under hardship.

Matt: (thinking) Man, I can't believe what a jerk I'm being. Joe's just trying to be nice and I bite off his head. (speaking) Hey, I'm sorry. Joe: Huh? Matt: I didn't mean to yell at you, okay? I guess I was just thinking about something else. Joe: Oh, yeah.... Matt: Anyways, I'm a really good cook! Everything will go a lot faster if we work together, and we'll be out of here in no time! Joe: Alright. I guess that sounds like a plan. Gomamon: I make a mean PB&J, you know! Gabumon: And I'm an expert in boiling water. Joe: Alright, then! We can do it! Matt: (turns away from the others, scowling; Thinking) Hang on, T.K.! I gotta solve this first.

They also add in that last line over silence to try and make Matt seem more optimistic about what they're doing here.

I have questions about Gomamon's PB&J. He doesn't have hands. Does he... does he spread the peanut butter and jelly with his bare flippers? Well, this place serves rotten fruit so I guess it's fine....

Unfortunately Jou's cavalcade of mistakes continues, as do the merciless time extensions.

Three more days for dropping a tray. One more week for burning a meal. Ten days for delivering the wrong order.

(These penalties seem incredibly arbitrary and I want to know the financials behind them. Where is Koushiro and his calculator when you need them!?

Any lawyer worth his salt would probably be handing Jou the deed to this place by tomorrow, if not for the fact that Vegiemon would most certainly kick Jou's ass in the dance-off.)

Feeling incredibly guilty, Jou returns to the kitchen to apologize to Yamato.

Jou: Yamato. I'm sorry. I won't make any more mistakes from now on! I promise! Yamato: ... Jou: Yamato.... (thinking) I can't make any more mistakes. If I do, I'll cause even more trouble for Yamato. I must not make any more mistakes.

What a miserable feeling, to be the dead weight. To know that everyone else can do it, they know what they're doing, they would be succeeding if you weren't dragging them down. It's a disgusting feeling to be the cause of someone else's suffering for reasons you can't control and don't know how to change.

The dub plays this pretty straight but in Joe's neurotic voice.

Joe: I don't understand why I'm so accident prone! Okay, so maybe balancing plates on a platter isn't one of my natural skills but now it seems worse than ever! Matt: ... Joe: Sorry, Matt. (thinking) Look at me. I'm falling apart. And why am I talking to myself? Even worse, why am I listening and talking back? I've gotta do something to snap out of this....

Uh, Joe? If your lips aren't moving then, by definition, you are not talking to yourself.

He's so stressed, his hands start shaking, rattling the tray in his hands. When he tries to carry it out, he loses his balance from the shaking and stumbles, dropping everything on the floor.

Yamato turns, visibly furious at the latest error.

Jou: Yamato... I'm sorry.... Yamato: (turns back away from Jou, visibly distraught) It's fine. Don't worry about it. (thinking) How long will I have to stay here? I promised Takeru I'd come back and get him. PicoDevimon: (outside the window, thinking) Everything is going well. All it needs is the finishing touch. Yamato: Hey, have you finished peeling the potatoes yet? Jou: I'll get them after I wash these dishes! Yamato: Hurry up! Jou: O-Okay.

That's it. PicoDevimon notices the potatoes sitting on a makeshift table outside. It's a slat of wood lying on top of four brick piles.

The dub again changes Matt's concerns to be about how much Joe sucks.

Joe: ...that did it. I snapped. Matt: Mmhmm. (turns back away from Joe, visibly distraught) It's okay. Don't worry about it. (thinking) Half of what I cook ends up on the floor and the other half is on his clothes; This job is giving me a killer headache! Tell me this is all just a bad dream. DemiDevimon: (outside the window, thinking) Everything is going perfectly! Those two will be slaving in that kitchen for life! Mm, looks like a likely spot for another little accident! Matt: Bring me some potatoes, will ya, Joe? Joe: Alright! Coming right up!

Not only did we lose Yamato worrying about Takeru, but we also lost his angry exchange with Jou about moving too slow. He's right back to sounding friendly when he asks for the potatoes.

PicoDevimon sets his plan in motion. All he has to do is remove one brick and wait.

However, the moment PicoDevimon turns his back, Sora arrives and slides a brick back into place. She and Piyomon stash themselves behind the building, while PicoDevimon takes his own hiding spot in a tree above.

To his utter confusion, PicoDevimon watches as Jou uneventfully retrieves the potatoes and heads back inside.

PicoDevimon: HUH!?!? Wh-Why!? Shit! Just you wait! You're not getting off that easily!

Later that night, we find Yamato out on the beach playing his harmonica.

However, he isn't alone for long. A visitor calls out to him from behind.

PicoDevimon: That's a beautiful melody. Yamato: Huh? Who are you? PicoDevimon: Oh, I'm just a bat Digimon passing by. It appears you're burdened by troubles a lot heavier than mine. Yamato: Huh? How did you...? PicoDevimon: The melody from your instrument doesn't lie. Yamato: ... PicoDevimon: You're an honest and faithful person. You're sacrificing a lot for your friend Yamato: So you know. PicoDevimon: Yes. But your friend doesn't seem to feel the same way. Yamato: Jou? What about him? PicoDevimon: I've heard he's making mistakes on purpose. Yamato: What!? PicoDevimon: He's afraid of being left behind on his own. Yamato: Jou would... He would never do that! PicoDevimon: (sigh) You're a good person. So long! (flies away) Yamato: ... Jou is... doing it on purpose?

Though Yamato lashes out at PicoDevimon for even suggesting it, the seeds of doubt are planted in his mind. He can't unthink it, and he's going to be watching Jou closer and more suspiciously as a result.

The next day finds Yamato once more arguing with Digitamamon.

Yamato: Please! I'll be sure to come back! Just let me go pick up my brother! Come on! Digitamamon: That's no good. No good! Yamato: Why not!? I promise I'll come right back and work again!

While Jou's distracted by their argument, PicoDevimon slips in and trips Jou, knocking him into the stack of plates beside him and sending them all shattering to the ground. Neither of the boys see this, though Digitamamon likely would have. He's on the take, though.

Yamato: Huh!? (whips around) Jou: WAUGH!!! Digitamamon: That's one more week for both of you! Yamato: One more week!? I don't have that kind of time! Digitamamon: I don't care! You're going to work with him and reimburse everything! Yamato: (falls to his knees, vocally sobbing) Damn it... Why...? Jou: No, that's wrong! Someone bumped into my legs and knocked me over! It wasn't me! I'm telling the truth! Please believe me! Yamato: DON'T MAKE EXCUSES!!! (stands up, furious) Jou: Yamato! Yamato: (storms out of the kitchen) Jou: ...it's the truth....

Again, this is such an incredible trap. Jou is a prisoner of his responsibility and Yamato's a prisoner of his loyalty. They're caged in a social prison. And the only way to break free from it is betray the very trait that empowers their Crest.

It's a truly cruel predicament, where their only options are to remain in Hell or darken their Crests.

The dub stays on the rails until the plates break, where Matt now directly accuses Joe.

Digitamamon: Not more plates! That's another week for the both of you! Matt: What are you talking about!? I can't stay here another week! I've got places to go! Digitamamon: You'll stay, alright! And no tips! Matt: (falls to his knees, angry) Joe, why are you doing this!? Joe: Huh!? You think I'm doing this on purpose!? You think I'm juggling plates while I wash 'em? Something tripped me! Matt: QUIT MAKING UP EXCUSES!!! (stands up, furious) Joe: I'm not! Matt: (storms out of the kitchen) Joe: You've gotta believe me, Matt....

This time it's what DemiDevimon said to Matt that gets used to get out of having to write him as emotionally vulnerable.

Fortunately for Jou and Yamato, reinforcements are on their way.

Takeru: Something's beeping! Agumon: That's right! It was beeping when we found you, Takeru! Takeru: Are we going to find Onii-chan? Taichi: We sure are!

Taichi and Takeru make their way to the diner, where they find Gomamon cleaning the floor and Gabumon serving food.

Takeru: Gabumon, where's my brother!? Taichi: is Jou here too? Gomamon: Yeah, he's here, but.... (long pause) Taichi: But?

Taichi and Takeru enter the kitchen, where they find Jou.

Jou: Taichi! You're alive! I was worried about you! Taichi: Sorry, a lot happened. Takeru: Where is Onii-chan? Is he here?

Jou's expression darkens and he glances at the back door.

Takeru: He's outside? (runs out the door) Taichi: Jou, what happened?

In the dub, they avoid suggesting that Joe thinks Tai's dead.

Joe: Tai! I'm so glad to see you guys! But don't break anything. Tai: Sure, but what are you doing here? T.K.: Hey, Joe! It's great to see you, but where's Matt? Joe: (expression darkens, glances at door) Oh. Uh. Matt's around back. T.K.: Matt! (runs out the door) Tai: So? What are you doing here?

I really like Joe's nervous "Don't break anything." The more neurotic Joe can be hit or miss at times, but right now's perfect for it.

Out back, the brothers are reunited.

Takeru finds Yamato lying in the grass and runs straight to him.

Takeru: Onii-chan! Yamato: (gasps, sitting up suddenly) TAKERU!?!? Takeru: (hug) I finally get to see you again! Yamato: How did you.... Takeru: I came with Taichi-san. Yamato: Taichi...?

Taichi stands back by the door, watching them reunite. Once Yamato glances over and sees him, he offers a greeting and joins the conversation.

Taichi: Yo! Yamato: You're alive!? Taichi: I'm not going to die before you do! Yamato: Is that right? Thank you for taking care of Takeru Taichi: Don't worry about it. Yamato: I'm sorry, Takeru. I couldn't keep my promise to come get you. Takeru: That's okay. We found each other again. Yamato: In any case, I'm glad you're safe.

A sweet moment highlighting the relationships between all three of these characters.

Matt undersells the emotion of his reunion, despite T.K. firing on all four cylinders.

T.K.: Hiya, Matt! Matt: (gasps, sitting up suddenly) Huh!? T.K.! T.K.: (hugs) I thought I'd never see you again! Matt: Hey, kid. Are you okay? T.K.: I'm great now that we're together again! Matt: So where's Tai? Tai: Hey, Matt! Matt: Alright, there you are! Tai: So, seems like something weird's going on around here. Matt: Yeah, you could say we got ourselves into some hot water! Tai: Oh, a cooking joke! Matt: I'm... really sorry I didn't keep my promise to come back and get you, T.K. T.K.: That's alright! I'm sure you would have if you could have, Matt! Matt: Anyhow, you're here and that's what counts.

"Hey kiddo, have you seen Tai?" is not what should be coming out of Matt at this moment. He almost seems happier to see Tai than T.K. That the animation has Takeru hugging Yamato but Yamato too stunned to hug Takeru back doesn't help, either; Combined with the dialogue shift and the different tone of voice, it makes him look callous.

Of course, no surprise that "I'm not going to die before you do" didn't make the jump. If Joe can't even say "You're alive!?" then that certainly wasn't making it over. Not sure replacing it with a dad joke was the best move, but I guess if anyone's gonna make dad jokes....

Now that Takeru and Yamato have reunited, Taichi comes in with the obvious solution to their plight: Let's just cut and run. Unfortunately, the damage has already been done.

Taichi: Setting that aside, it doesn't look like anyone's around. Let's make a run for it! Gabumon: Eh!? Run away!? Taichi: Yeah! Let's go look for the others together! (long pause) Yamato: I don't want to. Taichi: Huh? Takeru: Onii-chan? Yamato: I don't mind running away from here, but I won't go with Jou. Jou: (standing in doorway) EHHH!?!? Yamato: He'll only drag us down if he stays with us! Taichi: How can you say that!? We're all nakama! Yamato: What do you mean, nakama!? Are you talking about the way you drag everyone around at your own convenience!? Thanks to you, I'm worn out! Just do whatever you want by yourself! Taichi: What are you saying!? Yamato: I'm going with Takeru and that's it! Leave us alone! Takeru: Onii-chan, what's wrong? We're all frie-- Yamato: SHUT UP!!! Just stay quiet and follow me!

Well, this shit went south real fast and in a hurry.

The word Taichi uses up there, nakama, is for a group of colleagues united around a shared activity, cause, or goal who develop an intense relationship with one another as they share the trials and tribulations of pursuing that goal. Something like a military squadron or a sports team.

But that's just, like, his opinion, man. Takeru tries to say tomodachi before he's cut off, which is a more traditional term for friends.

In the dub, Matt inexplicably doesn't even want to leave the diner at all.

Tai: No, what counts is that we get out of this weirdo place and quick! Gabumon: What!? Run away!? Tai: Of course, run away! I don't see any guards around here. Matt: I don't want to! Tai: Huh!? T.K.: But why not? Matt: I'll leave when I'm ready! Anyway, I am not going anywhere with Joe. Tai: Huh!? Matt: He doesn't want to work together; He only cares about himself. Tai: HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT, MATT!?!? WE'RE ALL FRIENDS HERE!!! Matt: WHAT FRIENDS!?!? Oh, you mean this guy who deliberately wrecks everything to keep me here cooking rice until I'm an old geezer!? Tai: HEY!!! BACK OFF!!! Matt: And what about you, big shot!? The one who got us all separated!? T.K.: Matt, stop yelling! Aren't you glad I'm-- Matt: BE QUIET, T.K.!!! Just... be quiet and come with me.

The Japanese social construct of nakama, which sets Yamato off, was going to be difficult to translate. I suppose they could have gone with "We're a team!" or something. We're squadmates! To my understanding, anime dubs often struggle with nakama and will usually boil it down to just "friends".

Overall, this scene hits. Both Matt and Tai sell their fury, and when Matt snaps at T.K., the dub captures the Holy Shit of the moment perfectly.

Unfortunately, we've been (loudly) arguing about jailbreaking for so long that we've attracted attention.

See, this is why you don't stop to bicker when doing crime. Get better at crime, kids.

Digitamamon: Everyone.... Group: (gasp) Digitamamon: You wouldn't be thinking about running away, would you? PicoDevimon: That would give us problems if you did that. Jou: That's.... Patamon: PICODEVIMON!!! Agumon: He's an evil Digimon who tried to trick Takeru! Yamato: What!? Jou: Then when you said you saw humans around, that was a lie!? Taichi: I won't forgive you!

Patamon and Agumon open fire on PicoDevimon straight away. He narrowly dodges their Baby Flame and Air Shot, then flutters away into the forest. Taichi gives chase with Agumon and Patamon, leaving Takeru with Yamato.

(It's okay for them to split up; It will probably be a while before Patamon's ready to become Angemon again. Everyone else is gearing up to start leveling into Perfect-stage; Meanwhile poor Takeru's still paying down the cost of Angemon's self-sacrifice to kill Devimon.)

In the dub:

Digitamamon: Well, well, well. You weren't planning on running away now, were you? That would make me very angry! Ehehehehe! DemiDevimon: Yes, that would be a very bad idea. Joe: Hey, isn't that-- T.K.: Him again! Patamon: DemiDevimon! Agumon: It's the evil Digimon we met before! Matt: You lied! Joe: You lied to me to get me to come here! And you're the one that's wrecking everything! Tai: So we're gonna teach you a good lesson!

As usual, the dub kids are super quick on the uptake. Instead of Jou and Yamato struggling with the revelations of PicoDevimon's true nature, Joe and Matt snap right to it and turn on him instantly.

While Taichi recklessly takes the only Digimon capable of Perfect-stage evolution to go chase down a Child, Yamato confronts Digitamamon.

Digitamamon: You've got guts, trying to shirk your payments and run from me. Yamato: What are you talking about!? Our debts should already be more than paid for! Digitamamon: That's true. You were very hard workers. Let me give you back your change!

The dub gives them this fantastic exchange.

Digitamamon: How dishonest! Trying to leave without paying me. Matt: You're a thief! We've worked here long enough to pay for a trip to Hawaii! Digitamamon: Hawaii's not on the schedule. But if you insist I'll send you TO THE MOON!!!

XD Bringing back the "I checked the schedule" bit from earlier. Nice.

Digitamamon suddenly grows in size and closes the little crack in his shell that his eyes see out of. Then he bullrushes Yamato. Yamato leaps out of the way from his charge.

Digitamamon: The next one won't miss.

Gabumon evolves quickly into Garurumon and unloads his Fox Fire, but Digitamamon's shell holds fast against the flames.

Gomamon: Attacks won't work against Digitamamon once he's sealed himself within his shell! Digitamamon: (opens his eyes to aim) That's how it works.

Digitamamon seals up again and charges once more, nailing Garurumon head on.

Before Yamato has time to process what's happening to Garurumon, he hears Takeru shriek.

Yamato: Garurumon! Taichi: HELP ME!!! Yamato: Takeru!

Whipping around, Yamato finds his brother in the rotten clutches of Vegiemon, dangling him upside-down from the rooftop.

Vegiemon: (cackles) Ke ke ke ke! Digitamamon: If you keep putting up a struggle, I can't guarantee that boy will live. That includes your Digimon too!

Another death mention cut.

Vegiemon: Hehe! Call off your beast! Digitamamon: How nice! Your little brother decided to hang around!

Oh, so that's where Matt got the dad jokes. He's been working here too long.

Garurumon slowly climbs back to his feet, only for Digitamamon to put him down with another shell bash. This one slams Garurumon into a rock wall behind him.

Takeru: ONII-CHAN, HELP ME!!!

Watching from the door, Jou loses his temper.

Jou: Damn it! That's unfair! Yurusanai....

The word Jou furiously swears in a quiet, cold blaze right there is commonly translated as "I will not forgive you". Which is accurate but doesn't fully convey the meaning of the term. In addition to withholding forgiveness, it simultaneously also means, "I will not allow this."

It has no direct English equivalent and is instead an utterance of sheer, frothing outrage and determination to shut that the fuck down, whatever it is that the speaker is talking about.

Joe translates yurusanai this way.

Joe: That's going too far! I've had it....

Valid. A little undersold, but Jou's yurusanai was also quietly uttered to himself rather than projected to the group. So this works as a self-assurance of cold fury.

Gomamon evolves and jabs his horn at Vegiemon, who jerks aside and jeers at him.

Vegiemon: Hey! What are you doing!? If you do that, I won't be responsible for what happens to this little guy!

However, it's merely a distraction. Ikkakumon pulls Vegiemon's attention away from Jou, who's preparing his ultimate technique straight out of the Unimon episode.

LEAPING OFF OF HIGH THINGS!!! Jou's impact sends Vegiemon crashing down into the potatoes below, forcing him to release his grip on Takeru.

(Ironically, though it took a while to get here, Jou did ultimately spill the potatoes after all. Vegiemon should think very carefully about whether or not to add that to his debt.)

Jou-senpai's plan is not without consequence, however. He's effectively traded hostages, taking on the peril and harm for himself, in place of the younger Takeru.

Takeru: J-Jou-san! Yamato: Why!? Jou: Until now, I've pushed through all of this because you said ganbarou, Yamato. This time I'll... Yamato: ... Jou: Ikkakumon! Save everyone!

Here's where ganbaru comes back. It's been Jou's lifeline this whole time they've been working together at the diner. While Yamato's been letting PicoDevimon's lies get under his skin, Jou's been holding fast to their agreement of ganbaru and putting in his best effort.

Once more, the dub can't pull on ganbaru here, so they have to write around the word while still getting as close to the idea as they can.

T.K.: Joe! He's caught! Matt: Joe! Joe: Matt... You were right... You always said that we would all have to work together to get out of this mess... Now it looks like my turn.... T.K.: Matt, we gotta help him! Joe: Go on, Ikkakumon... Blast them now....

They do a pretty good job of it.

Responding to Jou, Ikkakumon starts fighting again, jabbing at Digitamamon with his horn.

Vegiemon: If you do that, I'll squeeze even harder! Jou: Forget about me; Hurry and defeat Digitamamon! Forget about me! Yamato: (horrified) I... I said all those awful things.... Jou.... JOU!!!

Under his shirt, Yamato's Crest begins to shine.

Digitamamon faces off with Garurumon and Ikkakumon.

Digitamamon: I could wipe the floor with you both if I wanted to. You might not believe it, but it's true.

He demonstrates his meaning by hitting them with Nightmare Syndrome. The void inside of his egg emerges launches out like a creature, pulling them both into a singularity of pure darkness. The abyss engulfs Garurumon and Ikkakumon for a couple seconds before hurling them back out, shivering and beaten on the ground.

Takeru: He's too strong! It's no use! We can't win! Yamato: No, that's not true. It can't be! I won't forget anymore. I can't forget. Nakama! The feeling of believing in friends! FRIENDSHIP!!!

Jou's sacrifice sends Yamato spiraling until he finds his faith in friendship again.

Matt's speech is a little different.

T.K.: No! This is bad! They're too strong! Matt: We can't... just give up! We've gotta beat them! But I can't beat them alone! I need Tai, T.K., Sora, Izzy, Mimi, and Joe! Together we're strong! And we can beat anything! GARURUMON!!!

Tonal shift here. Yamato's revelation is about remembering the importance of friendship, while Matt values friendship for how it helps you excel at violence. In his defense, he is about to weaponize friendship.

This faith not only restores his Crest but activates it. GARURUMON CHOU-SHINKAAAAAA!!!

We don't even get to see him outside his CGI Super Evolution before the Narrator comes in with the rundown. WereGarurumon is a Perfect-stage Vaccine-type Beast Man Digimon.

Narrator: WereGarurumon! Evolved from Garurumon, this Beast Man Digimon can walk on two legs! With his sharp claws, his special attack Kaiser Nail tears through enemies!

Matt gives WereGarurumon's diegetic rundown himself.

Matt: WereGarurumon, Ultimate form of Gabumon, is a really fierce warrior with claws, strong kicks, and jumps! He's extreme, but Egghead and his little bat buddy leave him no choice!

I believe this marks the first official use of the term "Ultimate" to describe Perfect-stage. Which is going to get confusing when we start talking about the final stage of Digimon evolution, Ultimate-stage.

Additionally, the debut of WereGarurumon brings with it another thing in the dub: The first instance of the song "Hey Digimon!", a fairly simple lyrical track used the same way the original uses Show Me Your Brave Heart.

(Show Me Your Brave Heart is way better. It typically kicks up right as Evolution starts, with its opening chords forming this mystical tension-lifting background noise punctuating the roaring SHINKAAAAAA. The lyrics kick in as evolution ends and from there, it's an empowering battle anthem. Hey Digimon, meanwhile, is this... goofy dance number? It doesn't really fit the tone of throwing hands with the Villain of the Week.)

Digitamamon launches another Nightmare Syndrome at WereGarurumon. He catches the shot with his Kaiser Nail, then shoves it back.

(I love how Garurumon's special attack was blue fire breath but in his Perfect-stage, he just got his nails done at the same place as Junko Enoshima.)

The impact sends Digitamamon flying into the woods.

Vegiemon: Huh? D-Digitamamon-sama? PicoDevimon: Th-That's impossible! Digitamamon was.... (flies off) Taichi: He's getting away!

Oh hey, PicoDevimon. Glad to see you're just hanging around after Taichi specifically took two of our Digimon to go chase you down.

Yamato: VEGIEMON!!! RELEASE JOU NOW!!! WereGarurumon: Or do you want to fight me too? Vegiemon: N-N-N-N-N-NOPE!!!

Dub WereGarurumon has a great threat here.

Matt: Vegiemon, you'd better let go of him! WereGarurumon: Unless you want to be salad. Vegiemon: (runs off shrieking)

It's probably taste better than most of the dub diner's menu.

Vegiemon releases Jou and flees for the woods.

Takeru: (hugs Yamato) Onii-chan! Jou-san saved me! Taichi: That was unusually heroic of you, Jou. Jou: You didn't have to add "unusually" to that. Gomamon: But you were really cool, Jou. Tsunomon: Really really! Yamato: Jou. Thank you. For rescuing Takeru. Jou: It's okay. You've been rescuing me. Yamato: Also! ...I'm sorry. Jou: Yamato... (embarrassed) Ahahaha!

We did not see WereGarurumon regress to Tsunomon but I guess it happened immediately after Vegiemon backed down.

In the dub, T.K.'s more interested in the awesome violence that just unfolded than in the rescue.

T.K.: (hugs Matt) YAY AHAHAHA!!! Wow, that was so cool, Matt! You're the awesomest big brother! Tai: I gotta hand it to you, Joe; That was really brave! Joe: (embarrassed) All I did was get grabbed. Gomamon: By a giant vegetable! Tsunomon: A cranky one! Matt: Uh, Joe? I'm really proud of how you handled the situation. Joe: At my old school, they voted me most likely to chicken out. I guess we showed them. Matt: I also need to apologize. Joe: Oh? Why, Matt? Matt: Because, I... I never should have doubted you, Joe.

Nonetheless, everyone else still agrees that Joe was the big hero here.

PicoDevimon is forced to report on his failure again.

PicoDevimon: A-And then the light from the Crest of Friendship caused WereGarurumon to evolve! Mystery Mon: What? PicoDevimon: Uh... Um....

A swarm of bats emerge from the portal, attacking PicoDevimon.

PicoDevimon: AHH SPARE ME!!! Mystery Mon: Learn your place. PicoDevimon: F-FUCK!!! IT'S ALL THEIR FAULT!!! I'LL BE WATCHING YOU, CHILDREN!!!

As a funny note, when PicoDevimon cries "SPARE ME!!!" the verb he uses is tasukete. It means to help someone who is in danger. It's the same word that Jou and Yamato used in their reconciliation just a moment ago, making this a comical echo of a heartwarming moment. "Thank you for tasukete Takeru." "You've been tasukete for me." "AHHHH TASUKETE!!!"

In the dub, DemiDevimon beats the original to the punch, name-dropping our new antagonist early.

DemiDevimon: Myotismon! One of the humans got the Crest of Friendship to glow and called WereGarurumon! Myotismon: WHAAAAAAT!?!? DemiDevimon: I tried, but-- (Bat swarm attacks) Myotismon: Perhaps your brain is too small for this job! DemiDevimon: You rotten kids and your rotten Digimon, you'll pay for this, rrrrgh!

Already, we're seeing a similar performance difference to what we had with Devimon. Vamdemon delivers a reserved "Nanda?" while Myotismon drops a loud, elongaged "WHAAAAAAT!?!?"

Meanwhile, the Chosen Children are back on the move. However, a new problem presents itself.

Yamato: So what you're saying is, if we can't fix things in this world, the effects will move to our own world.

Suddenly, the Digivices begin to beep. Taichi and Yamato both check theirs.

Yamato: What is that? Taichi: Apparently if one of our nakama is nearby, this thing starts beeping. Jou: Then someone must be nearby. Takeru: Which way is it? Taichi: Mine's this way. Yamato: Mine's over here. Taichi: Then... We should split into two groups to look for them. Yamato: I'll go with Takeru. Taichi: Then Jou's with me. Jou: But what if we can't find each other again? Taichi: Let's meet at the base of that mountain. Yamato: Got it. Takeru: Will we really see each other again? Yamato: We will. Because we're nakama. Taichi: We'll definitely meet again! Jou: Right! Because we're nakama!

We close on this hopeful note, as our nakama go their separate ways. Honestly, I think everyone's just excited to be able to identify as nakama. There's some profound Big Kid energy going around the cliffside right now

...but also their shared activity or interest is being child soldiers so they can be as goofy as they want about it.

The dub, however, can't close on the boys celebrating nakama. So they follow the rails right up to Takeru's last line.

T.K.: Matt, do you really think we'll meet again? Matt: Yeah, sure we will! I guarantee it! Tai: Farewell! Bye-bye! Auf wiedersehen! Joe: Wait! Don't go yet! I have to tie my shoe. Tai: Awww, you're ruining our big dramatic exit!

Gotta give 'em props for the audacity of that punchline. Tai complains about ruining the dramatic exit in a laugh line meant to replace a dramatic exit. Gold star.

Assessment: This episode is fantastic. It puts Jou and Yamato into an ugly situation that plays to both their strengths and their weaknesses. We get to see them both at their worst and their best against a silly yet deathly serious abuser.

The whole diner crisis is constantly walking a razor wire between being ridiculous and being dramatic, and I think it sticks it out pretty well.

The dub, however, suffers from an unwillingness to engage with Matt's emotional vulnerability. Yamato is a sensitive character whose love for others, especially his brother, is central to him.

In general, though the dub is lighter in tone it also hardens the characters. That hardness works against it in episodes like this, which are driven by the vulnerability of its cast.

Still, I don't want to be too hard on it because there's nonetheless a lot to like here. It's hit-or-miss by scene.

[msmercury84]

"I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

South Philadelphia, New Year's Eve, 1945"

From "I Double Dare You-A Rendezvous With Destiny."

"Off with my overcoat, off with my gloves. Who needs an overcoat, I'm burning with love. My heart's on fire and the flame grows higher. So I can weather the storm. What do I care how much it may storm? I've got my love to keep me warm."

*Author's Note: Some sections are for readers over 18 years of age. In other words, smut warning. The expression "And how!" was popular with Bill Guarnere's generation. He used the expression in the book he wrote with Babe Heffron and I heard my grandparents use the expression, too. The depiction of Bill is based upon the actor's portrayal in the movie.*

A snowstorm was underway in South Philadelphia on New Year's Eve. Blowing and drifting snow made going out undesirable for the Guarneres and no one planned to visit them due to the weather. Since the storm was predicted in the newspaper and on the radio earlier in the week, Leigh ensured that she had everything she needed for a nice supper. She also made sure that the dress Bill gave her for Christmas was cleaned, pressed and ready to wear.

When Leigh returned home from work, it was much later in the afternoon. The snow caused the city buses to run late. She started to prepare supper and put a bottle of champagne in a bucket filled with ice. Employees of the CBS affiliate got champagne along with their Christmas bonuses.

She set about making a very elaborate antipasto while she cooked some steaks that came from her grandpa's farm. Leigh decided to make some spaghetti sauce with Italian sausage to go with some homemade pasta.

Earlier in the week, Bill mentioned that he would enjoy having a small serving of pasta "wit' that good gravy ya make" the next time they had steaks.

Leigh got a good recipe from Augusta for a marinade that was great for beef. The day before New Year's Eve, she combined garlic, red wine, some salt, a dash of pepper and a hint of oregano.

Prior to placing the steaks in the marinade, Leigh used a meat tenderizer on both sides of the steaks. Then, the steaks were placed in a baking dish. The marinade was poured over the meat. A lid was placed on the baking dish and the steaks marinated for 24 hours.

Since a snowstorm was going on, supper was later than usual. Traffic was crawling on all of the major thoroughfares. As the steaks simmered in a skillet, Leigh put on her new red dress, black stockings, a black lace garter belt, a black lace bra, black silk panties and her favorite black open toed high heeled pumps. She touched up her makeup, brushed her hair and headed back to the kitchen.

Leigh turned on the radio to have music playing while she finished the special supper. She donned an apron made of material with tiny red roses. Protecting her favorite dress was top priority.

A good bottle of red wine was open to allow it to 'breathe' before she put it into a decanter. Leigh used her best china plus the crystal wine glasses from the Andrews Sisters. The champagne flutes from the famed trio would be used for a midnight toast to the new year.

When Bill got home from work, he embraced and kissed Leigh after hanging up his snow covered coat on a coat tree in the kitchen and putting his gloves on the coat tree to dry.

"Baby, I love that new dress (he pronounced the word as 'dat'). You look like ten million bucks. Good thing we're stayin' in tonight. The snow is really comin' down an' the wind is ice cold. It kinda reminds me o' the Christmas Eve snowstorm in Aldebourne.

"Thanks, Honey." She winked, adding, "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"What's goin' on, Sweetheart? Sounds like you're up to somethin'."

"You'll see, be patient. I'll make it worth the waiting."

"I like the sound o' that." Guarnere went upstairs to put on a clean dress shirt after quickly shaving. The atmosphere in the house was cozy, with the Christmas decorations, a fire in the living room fireplace and music on the radio.

Leigh set the table and lit the candles in cut glass candle holders. Bill helped her get supper served. He pulled out the chair for her to be seated at the dining room table. Leigh thanked him. Then, he sat down and asked the blessing.

After they finished their supper, Bill told her,

"Baby, that was one hell of a good meal. Ya went all out wit' the fancy dishes an' wine glasses. Everythin' was perfect. We couldn't get food this good from the best restaurants uptown." Leigh was pleased that he enjoyed supper.

"Thanks, Bill. Let me get the dishes and then we can get ready to celebrate the new year."

"Nothin' doin', Leigh. I'm helpin' wit the dishes. How 'bout I wash an' you dry? That way, your dress won't get ruined."

"That sounds like a good idea, Honey. A sweet, sexy man bought that dress for me." Bill grinned,

"I've gotta admit that guy has excellent taste in buyin' broads' clothes." Leigh playfully raised her eyebrows,

"Oh, so now I'm a broad, not your baby or your sweetheart?" She went into the kitchen to get her apron. Guarnere followed Leigh and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, gently pulling her close to him.

"Ya little devil. You know you'll always be my baby an' my sweetheart. I'm gonna tell ya what ya tell me sometimes, you're a sexy smart ass. Speakin' of a sexy ass, that dress shows it off to perfection." Leigh giggled,

"Thank you, kind sir. Flattery will get you everywhere with me." Bill let go of her and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Leigh put on her apron.

"That's good to know. We'd better get to work before we get up to somethin'. I'll bring in the dishes an' I promise to be real careful wit' 'em."

After Bill brought in the plates, silverware and wine glasses, Leigh put the leftover antipasto into a container that went into the refrigerator. While they cleaned and dried the dishes, Bill and Leigh talked about the way they had spent the past New Year's Eves since they got together. After the last dish was dried and put away, Leigh removed her apron and placed it on the kitchen counter. She embraced Bill,

"This year is very special. Not only because it's our first New Year's Eve as man and wife. It's extra special because, thank God, you survived." Guarnere tenderly kissed her.

"The man upstairs done most o' the work keepin' me alive, but you helped by cookin' for me an' bein' there for me. I owe you a hell of a lot, Baby."

"Thanks, Honey. You don't owe me anything. Getting married more than made up for everything. I was hoping to be your wife for a long time." Leigh had a smirk very similar to Bill's smirk when she added, "All you owe me is a good time later tonight."

"Oh, you can count on me givin' ya an extra good time later tonight, Sweetheart. Ol' Guarnere loves to satisfy a certain lady." Leigh got on her tip toes and playfully kissed the tip of his nose,

"And how! Remember when Perconte said he "really enjoyed Christmas Eve with the Guarneres," I was daydreaming about being your wife and having dinner guests over to visit us as I looked out the window at the snow coming down in Aldebourne."

"I asked ya what ya thought of Perconte sayin' that 'cause I wanted to know how ya felt about gettin' married someday. I was a happy man when I knew ya liked the sound o' what he said.

Do ya suppose they'll still broadcast the Guy Lombardo show on the radio tonight? We could have some nice music for our party here at home."

"Yes, Honey, it's scheduled for tonight. I saw the show on our schedule at work. New York City wasn't supposed to have as much snow as we have. The show should be starting in about ten minutes."

"I'll go ahead an' get the CBS channel on the radio so we don't miss anythin'." Bill went to the radio and got it on the desired station.

"I have the champagne chilling, do you want me to bring it in?"

"Not yet, Baby. Let's wait 'til it's closer to midnight so we can toast the new year. I really enjoyed New Year's Eve in Aldebourne when ya played the piano an' sang. Too bad there's no piano here, I'd love to hear ya playin' an' singin'". Leigh sat on the couch with Bill. He got a cigarette out of a pack on the table, lit it and settled back to cuddle with Leigh and listen to the radio.

"I'd love to have a piano, but they're so expensive. Truth be told, I miss playing the piano." Guarnere put his right arm around her shoulder and held the cigarette in his left hand so Leigh wouldn't accidentally get burned.

"Maybe someday I can buy a piano for ya."

"That would be wonderful." They listened to the live broadcast, enjoying the music. A half hour later, the band began to play "Moonlight Serenade." Bill stood up and stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Would ya like to dance, Sweetheart?"

"Yes." Guarnere took Leigh's hand and they walked to the middle of the living room floor. Bill pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as Leigh wrapped her arms around his neck.

They swayed to the music, looking into each other's eyes.

"This reminds me of a very special night at Ft. Benning and our wedding reception."

"Guess this is our song. You're lookin' as beautiful as ya did both times we danced to this an' I'm still crazy in love wit' ya."

"I'm still crazy in love with you, too, Handsome." Bill gave Leigh a tender kiss. After the kiss ended, she added, "Our first New Year's Eve was when you gave me my angel necklace."

"You must love it 'cause you're always wearin' it."

"I adore it." The song ended and they sat on the couch.

"I'm still wearin' the St. Michael medal, even though the war is over. I think it helped save my life. Baby, ya don't know this, but I was standin' outside the door to Teresa's bedroom.

I wanted to know if ya really liked the necklace. I don't think it's right to eavesdrop, but it paid off. I went to bed wit' a big smile on my face when I heard ya tell Teresa that you were crazy 'bout me."

They continued to listen to the radio and talk. At 11:45, Bill got up, went into the kitchen and got the bucket containing the chilled champagne from the refrigerator.

Next, he carefully put the crystal champagne flutes on a small platter and carried the platter into the living room.

"How 'bout a drink, Baby?"

"Sounds good to me, but I don't want to drink too much. I want to enjoy every minute with you later on tonight."

"No heavy drinkin' for me, either, 'cause I wanna make love to you." He removed the foil from the top of the champagne bottle and popped the cork. Bill poured some champagne into both flutes. He raised his glass,

"To my sweet, sexy angel. Seems like ya understood me from the day we met. You're a blessin', Baby. I'm lookin' forward to what ya got planned." Leigh gently touched her glass to Bill's,

"To the handsome love of my life, you're a blessing, too. I plan to make you very hot and hard." Guarnere winked at her,

"That's my sassy angel." They sipped the champagne.

"It ain't bad. Matter o' fact I like this fancy soda pop." Leigh grinned at Bill's comment.

"It is pretty good. The champagne you got the night you proposed was the best I'd ever had."

"That guy at the front desk (the concierge) really knew his stuff." Soon, the radio featured the voices of party goers along with Guy Lombardo, counting down the seconds until the new year.

While the band played the traditional "Auld Lang Syne", Bill pulled Leigh close to him and gave her a gentle kiss at the stroke of midnight. The kiss quickly deepened and became passionate. When the kiss ended, Bill gently cupped Leigh's face in his hands.

"Happy New Year, Baby. I love you."

"I love you, too, Honey. Happy New Year. They shared another kiss and finished drinking the champagne in their glasses. Leigh got up from the couch.

"As they say in the movies, I'm going to slip into something more comfortable." She had a saucy grin as she added, "Don't go anywhere or start without me, you handsome dream boat." Guarnere had a wicked grin.

"Oh, I ain't goin' nowhere, Sweetheart. I'll wait right here for ya." Leigh went upstairs to the bathroom. She put in her diaphragm, washed her hands and reapplied her red lipstick.

Then she lightly powdered her face, touched up her minimal blush and her mascara. Next, she used her eyebrow pencil. She left the bathroom and went into their bedroom where she carefully hung up her dress.

Leigh got the red silk bra and tap panties set Bill bought her for Christmas out of its box in her dresser drawer. She got the matching red silk kimono from Julia from her side of the closet.

Before removing her panties and bra, Leigh opened her jewelry box on top of her dressing table and got out the red rose made of ribbon that graced the top of her birthday gift when she was living in Aldebourne.

Leigh got some bobby pins and carefully pinned the rose in her hair, placing it above her left ear. Satisfied with her efforts to secure the rose, she removed her bra, panties and slip, placing the items into the clothes hamper by the chest of drawers.

She put on the bra and tap panties. The panties covered her garter belt and her black silk stockings remained on. Next, she took off her black pumps and took them to the closet and places them in the shoebox in which they came.

Leigh got out a shoebox containing red pumps she bought at a clearance sale in a department store. The pumps, with stiletto heels, were a perfect match for her lingerie.

She left the bedroom and stood at the head of the stairs.

"Baby, are you ready to have a good time?" Bill had a big smile on his face as he watched her walk down the stairs. Leigh paused at the foot of the stairs and untied the kimono. She turned around and slowly exposed her shoulders and her back before she let the robe drop to the floor.

Knowing that Bill would enjoy the view, she bent over to pick up the robe. Her tap panties went up slightly in the back to show a small area of her behind. Guarnere once again had a wicked grin on his face.

She draped the robe over one arm and walked toward him.

"Do you see anything you like, big boy?"

"Oh, hell, yes! Baby, ya look like the hottest goddamn pinup girl in the world! That outfit an' those shoes are really doin' somethin' to me." He stood up and walked over to where Leigh stood. Bill gently pulled her close to him,

"You're beautiful, Sweetheart. Absolutely perfect an' you look as sexy as ya did in Paris."

"Thanks, Honey." Bill gently nipped at one of Leigh's ear lobes before kissing her neck. He delighted in her slightly shivering when his lips gently sucked at the skin on her neck.

Guarnere whispered into her ear,

"Does my angel like that?"

"Oh, yes! I love it." His hands moved down to cup her ass.

"Baby, your body was made to drive a man crazy. It should be against the law for ya to wear clothes. 'course I don't want anybody else seein' ya naked. I wish you'd go around the house just wearin' what the man upstairs gave ya."

They exchanged slow, sensual kisses. Leigh eagerly allowed Bill's tongue to enter her mouth. She sucked on the tip of it, provoking a soft groan from him.

Leigh felt his hard cock pressing against her. She broke the kiss for a moment, stepping back to allow enough room for her hand to surround and gently squeeze his cock. Guarnere made a hissing sound through clenched teeth.

She massaged him through the fabric of his trousers.

"Oh, Baby, that feels so damn good." Leigh unbuttoned his dress shirt, licking, kissing and sucking the skin on his neck and chest. Bill moved his hand inside the tap panties to cup her bare ass. He moved one hand to the front of the tap panties.

Guarnere smiled as he felt the obvious sign of her arousal. Leigh gasped as his fingers rubbed her clit. A few minutes later, she slightly shuddered as she came. Bill picked her up,

"How 'bout we take this to the bedroom?"

"We can't get there fast enough." Guarnere quickly carried her upstairs to their bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed as he turned on the light and walked over to pull down the shades.

Bill removed his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He sat on a corner of their bed to take off his shoes and socks. Then, he removed his trousers and boxer shorts, letting them join his shirt on the floor. He removed his artificial leg and sat up in the bed.

Leigh grinned and took off her red stiletto heeled shoes. She started to remove her bra, but Bill told her,

"Baby, leave it on, just for a little bit. Same wit' the panties, too. I got an idea. One time in Aldebourne, ya made love to me an' said it was all for me. I wanna do the same for you. Don't get me wrong, I still wanna make love wit' ya.

How about sittin' in front of me on the bed?" She got on the bed and did as Bill asked. He pulled her as close to him as possible and wrapped his arms around her.

"Just relax in my arms, Sweetheart, an' let me take care o' you." He kissed Leigh's neck, knowing how much she loved it. Bill caressed her shoulders and allowed his hands to roam lower.

"Baby, you have the most beautiful breasts." Leigh thanked him for his compliment.

"That isn't exactly what you wanted to say, is it, Honey?" Guarnere grinned, knowing that she would be aroused by him saying something off color.

"Ya little devil. You know how I think. I've always loved your tits. They're so goddamn gorgeous." Bill nibbled her ear, noticing that she slightly trembled with passion. He added, "Christ, Leigh, you've got it in spades!

You have a sweet, sexy ass an' you know I love your beautiful pussy." He paused to once again suck on the soft skin at the junction of her neck and right shoulder. Bill loved hearing the sounds of passion Leigh made.

Guarnere slowly pushed her bra straps down, uncovering her breasts. He told her, speaking in a soft, low voice,

"I'm glad I bought this set for ya. Sweetheart, red silk looks so good on you. Now, how 'bout I take off this bra so I can give those beautiful tits some attention?"

"I'm more than ready." Bill unhooked her bra and carefully put it on the small table by his side of the bed. He caressed her breasts with both hands as she leaned back against his chest. Then, he gently rubbed her erect nipples with his fingertips. Leigh started to moan softly.

"Your body was made for makin' love." He began to tug on her nipples. Leigh's breathing quickened. Bill kept on tugging on her nipples, knowing that she could come from this stimulation .

Soon, she slightly trembled in his arms. Guarnere was pleased that he made her come again. He moved his hands slowly down her body, all the while whispering in her ear,

"Such a beautiful baby. You're a fuckin' goddess. I wish I could take pictures of ya completely naked." Leigh trembled again, the idea of posing for Bill was making her even more aroused.

He slid the tap panties down her hips. Leigh briefly got out of bed to removed the panties, the garter belt and her stockings. She eagerly got back on the bed and sat facing away from Bill, leaning against him.

Guarnere wrapped his arms around her. He had picked up on the fact that his words inflamed her desire. His breath was hot in her ear as he whispered,

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya, Sweetheart? Posin' just for me." She answered in a breathy voice,

"Oh, yes!"

"I'd start out askin' ya to hold those perfect tits in your hands. It would make ya hotter than hell if I asked ya to play wit' those sweet nipples, wouldn't it?"

"Mmmm...yes, it would."

"I'd want ya to spread your legs an' let me get a nice close up picture o' that beautiful pussy. You would already be kinda wet, wouldn't ya?" Bill was enjoying the effect his words had on Leigh. She was trembling a little more and her breathing was starting to speed up.

"Yes, Baby, my pussy would be very hot and wet." Guarnere groaned, his cock was rock hard, but he was determined to give Leigh as much pleasure as possible. He continued to whisper in her ear,

"Hearin' you say that is so fuckin' hot. I'd ask ya to touch yourself."

"Oh, God! I'd do it for you, Baby." Bill grinned.

"Then, I'd move close enough to taste ya..." Leigh gasped, imagining the feel of his lips on her sex. Guarnere began to caress the soft curls between her legs.

"My angel's enjoyin' this, ain't no doubt about it. You're so wet, Sweetheart."

He stroked a few fingers up and down the open lips of her sex.

"Oh, Bill!'

Then, he began to gently rub her clit.

"Your body was made for fuckin', too, an' you're so good at fuckin'!"

Leigh was almost panting due to his words and the way his finger stimulated her clit. She moved against him, feeling his hard cock pressing into the cleft of her ass.

Bill rubbed her clit a little faster. Leigh couldn't speak, she just moaned louder. Soon, her hips jerked up involuntarily as another orgasm washed over her.

Guarnere continued to hold her and he kissed her neck as she came. When she had recovered, he asked,

"What way does my baby wanna make love? Do ya want me to love ya wit' my tongue and lips?"

Leigh got on her knees, facing him,

"Bill, you know I love that, but right now, I need your cock inside me!" She surprised him by straddling him and quickly lowering herself onto him.

He held her hips as she rode him hard and fast. Bill loved her breasts bouncing in front of him and he managed to wrap his lips around one nipple to suck it.

This made her go faster. Guarnere knew he couldn't last very long this way, but he wasn't about to tell Leigh to slow down or stop. All he could do was thrust up into her.

His groaning got louder.

"Oh, fuck, yes! So good, Baby!"

Leigh felt a tremendous orgasm building. She called out his name, not giving a damn if the neighbors heard her. When he felt her sex contracting around him, this pushed Bill over the edge.

"Goddamn!" They held each other as they came. After they got their breathing rates back to normal, Bill held onto her and gently turned on his side, letting her onto the bed.

Guarnere withdrew from her and then pulled the sheet up to cover them. He held her close, stroking her back as Leigh wrapped her arms around him.

"That was wild and wonderful."

"You're amazin', Sweetheart." He gently kissed her.

"You're pretty amazin', too, Bill. That was heavenly, although we didn't behave like angels." Guarnere chuckled,

"You're so damn good when you're not actin' like an angel. Let me get the rest o' the covers pulled up so we don't get too cold.

Once Bill covered himself and Leigh with the sheet and a blanket, he lay beside her. Leigh put her head on his chest and Guarnere wrapped his arms around her.

They were too exhausted to think of turning off the light or bathing. Before sleep claimed them, Leigh made Bill laugh and kiss her when she said,

"Honey, we definitely started the new year off with a bang."

[masked-marauder]

THE BARBER OF SEVILLE (1944)

Director: James Culhane

Story: Ben Hardaway, Milt Schaffer

Animation: Verne Harding, Les Kine, Emery Hawkins, Pat Matthews, Paul J. Smith, Rudy Zamora

Release Date: April 22, 1944

Ah, Woody Woodpecker. One of my favorite, yet also one of the most underachieving cartoon characters of all time.

Despite his appealing design and his fun, if a bit aggravating personality, Woody was never able to achieve fame and praise similar to the likes of Bugs Bunny or Mickey Mouse (Unless you're in Brazil), and I find that to be a great shame, as I find Woody to be a great character. However, it seemed nobody truly knew HOW to use him after the 1940s were over, as he became nicer, unfunnier, and more simple of a character, despite a few fun cartoons here and there. (Mostly 1954's CONVICT CONCERTO). It seems like they've been trying to return to his classic roots in the modern day and age, but they aren't really doing it very well, as the movie stunk and the Flash show is unbearably mediocre. So what made Woody tick anyway? Why do I find him to be such a great character? Well, look no further than The Barber of Seville.

The cartoon begins with Woody, reading the window of Tony Fig-Ay-Roo.... Figaro's barber shop. As he looks at the different haircut options, he decides to get a "V FOR VICTORY" haircut, because what can he lose with a victory cut?

As he thinks about the haircut, we get some great expressions from him.

As he goes into the barber shop, he finds that Figaro is out to get his physical. "Back soon? That's what he thinks." This cartoon shows its age very clearly with military references such as these, but I find them somewhat endearing.

Oh well. Maybe Woody can cut his own hair! He cuts his own teeth!

As he begins combing his hair, he does a dainty pose as he remarks "Looks like Harmonica Lake!"

This is a neat lil nod to the famous actress Veronica Lake. (Yeesh, check out that... creature next to her!)

Suddenly, a Native-American man walks in, unaware that Woody will be his barber. Despite the controversial nature of this whole sequence, weirdly enough, the official Woody Woodpecker youtube channel has this entire cartoon up with NO censorship. Not even a disclaimer or anything. This whole sequence is somewhat unnecessary to the cartoon, so I won't go into full detail about it.

However, one gag I DO have to bring up is one where, after Woody places a bunch of hot towels on his head, the man's war bonnet shrinks into a shuttlecock.

He takes great offense to this, viewing this as Woody "giving him the bird" (A great double entendre) as he pulls out an axe, threatening to give Woody "scalp treatment".

Woody backtracks on this, pulling out a mallet as he states "No. I give YOU scalp treatment!". He then knocks him on the head with the mallet. Just a great combo of jokes all packed into one big gag.

After this, we find a burly Italian construction worker, who goes into the shop. This is where the cartoon gets good.

As he sits down, Woody asks him what he would like. He asks for the "whole works", a decision he will most definitely come to regret.

As Woody begins the haircut, he holds down the man's helmet, the razor hitting it as both the man and Woody shake around, the razor makin a jackhammer sound effect.

"Remove the hat!.... dope."

As Woody attempts to remove it, we get another fun visual gag as Woody blow torches the man's helmet off, using his own hair as a nob controlling the fire.

Now, while all of the gags that I've mentioned are GREAT, it's all nothing compared to what you'll be seeing next. After removing the helmet, Woody begins SINGING OPERA (specifically Largo al factotum) while cutting the man's hair. He begins by slapping the man with a bunch of shaving cream.

He randomly places shaving cream on the man's shoes as well. While Woody sings, the man looks at him with an incredible expression of pure shock and horror.

He then slaps the brush for the shaving cream into the man's mouth.

He begins polishing the man's shoes with the shaving cream, which is standard barber practice.

Do I really have to say anything about this next part? He pulls out the razor as he points it at the man, resulting in the most iconic still from this cartoon. "V'e la risorsa..."

He then extends the seat to go up higher, to the point where he slams the man into the ceiling. He sticks on there for a bit due to the shaving cream.

He then falls off as a bunch of tools fly across the screen, including.. dentures? Maybe this is just an old-timey barbershop thing, I wouldn't know.

The man tries hiding from Woody in the bib, leading to a really satisfying looking gag where everytime Woody swings the razor, the man changes position, as Woody randomly phases over to that position, with no in between frames whatsoever.

As Woody swings the blade again, the man disappears. Woody begins calling out for him by saying the famous "FEE-GA-ROOOOOO.... FEE-GA-ROOOOO...." part of the song.

As he calls to him, he randomly clones himself as he looks around. A really simple yet genius gag.

As he calls out, we see the man, attempting to walk away, dressed as a stereotypical child from that era, complete with a little umbrella. He spouts "Coming, mother!" If I remember correctly, this is a radio show reference, but I don't remember which one.

As he tries running away, Woody turns like the way a bloodlusted animal turns when they hear a twig snap, dashing towards him.

This is where the cartoon reaches its peak. He begins swinging the razor at him again, now with a fencing stance, as they move across the shop.

After a RIGID haircutting session, the man finally escapes Woody's grasp, running out the shop as Woody laughs hysterically, but not before the man gets his revenge. As Woody laughs, the mangrabs him and chucks him through the window as he slams into a pole.

Now THIS is Woody Woodpecker. There's a reason he's Stanley Kubrick's favorite cartoon character. (That's entirely true by the way... look it up) And it seems many people agree on this being a great Woody cartoon, as it's usually ranked as the BEST one and was ranked #43 in the best cartoons EVER. Another huge selling point to this cartoon is that it was the first to feature Woody's design as we know it today, besides the blue neck (which I honestly prefer). Basically, what I'm trying to say is, if there's ONE Woody cartoon you should watch... it's this one. And you're in luck, because this time, instead of putting some shoddy Dailymotion link, I can send you the entire cartoon from the official Youtube channel! You can view it here!

All of the gifs used in THIS review come from animationfan69.tumblr.com. Give em' a watch!

[practicalzen]

WHY AM I WRITING THIS STUFF?

Since I have the audacity and hubris to suggest that I might know something worth sharing, I want to explain a few things about why I am here and how I choose what I say, and, how I choose to say it.

I have never been one to document my life. I don’t have any picture albums, diaries, or archives of past work. At one point in my life, I wrote a lot of poetry. For a while, I saved it. But as time went on, I simply misplaced the binders and eventually lost it. That was not a serious problem for me. By the time I realized that I couldn’t find any of what I had written, I had moved on (in a variety of ways). However, because of this carelessness with my past and my lack of attention to documentation, when I try to communicate what I know, who I was, or where I have been, I have to rely almost completely on memory.

I can guarantee you that my memory is 100% run-of-the-mill. I am subject to dropouts, distortions, and complete inaccuracies.

I am still close friends with my first wife and we often talk about our time together 40 years ago. I am surprised how differently we remember things. Sometimes she insists that I am completely wrong about the sequence, content, or even reality of past events. Sometimes, I am surprised by how wrong she gets things. And, sometimes, neither of us has any idea who the hell has things right or wrong.

On top of that, this ‘Spiritual/Buddhist/Meditative/Life’ journey is rife with false narratives, delusions, hallucinations, great insights, joy, depression, guilt, remorse, fear, etc., etc. Just when you think you have it all nailed down and neatly packaged for nutritious, simple ingestion . . . you find that your perspective on everything has changed.

“Going, going, going on beyond, always going on beyond, always learning, always growing, always changing.”

LET ME GIVE YOU AN EXAMPLE

One of the few great addictions left in my life is coffee. Not simply coffee, but rich, dark roast, perfectly brewed cappuccino. I start every working day with it and am constantly looking for ways of improving my ‘coffee’ experience. To that end, a few years ago, I purchased a magnificent, Italian built ‘Rube Goldberg’ monstrosity of a cappuccino machine. It has levers, and handles, and spouts, and double boilers, and a whole variety of gauges - all to ensure that I am able to concoct the ‘Perfect’ brew.

Since my wife and I fully share my obsession, and always share the dark, chocolaty fruits of my labor, the portafilter on our machine is a two cup unit with a stainless steel removable filter. Unfortunately, from the day we got it, the flow to the two shot glasses below the filter was uneven. When the shot glass on the right side of the machine was full, the left hand glass was only about 2/3 full.

Everything else the machine did was amazing. The steamer worked flawlessly and I was soon able to produce wonderful, peaked, shaving cream rich foam. The quality of my pulls was beyond reproach, each taking exactly 30 seconds and perfectly balanced – not bitter, yet, a satisfying expression of the full potential of the rich dark roast bean that I was currently using. There was nothing about the machine that I could fault except the uneven flow through the portafilter.

Initially, because the machine was working flawlessly, I ignored the problem of the uneven ‘draw/flow’. When the right side shot glass was full, I removed it and slid the left side shot glass under both spigots. When it was full I poured the two shots into the cappuccino cups and got on with my life.

Unfortunately, as I become more intimately involved with the process I realized that the last 3rd of the left side cup was watered down compared to the smooth continuous draw on the right side. I decided that I was not going to put up with this ‘malfunction’ and that I was going to figure out how to solve it.

I purchased a small pipe brush and scoured the two feeds on the portafilter. As well, I removed the filter basket and carefully insured that none of the filter holes were blocked. When I was done, the thing worked . . . for a couple of days. Then the problem returned.

As I became more obsessed with the repair, I also became more aware that it was intermittent. Sometimes, for a week or two, it manifested every time I made coffee, and then, suddenly, it would draw perfectly and the two shot glasses would be filled evenly with no discrepancies. Then, suddenly, the stupid machine would fill the shot glasses unevenly again. I examined, poked, prodded, disassembled, descaled, detoxified, reassembled, reviewed and, finally replaced everything I could imagine might be involved in the problem.

Finally, I bought a new expensive, after-market, portafilter. Clearly the old one was flawed!

This whole process had gone on for more than a year and had become a real source of pain and frustration. Once I broke down and replaced the stock portafilter with the super, high quality, custom manufactured, life-time-guaranteed portafilter, I knew that finally everything was under control. With a bit of a twitch when I thought of the replacement cost, I unpacked the new portafilter, filled it with perfectly ground, rich dark roast coffee, and prepared to draw two perfect cappuccinos.

MY GOD! As I stood there watching, I got two horribly uneven shots of coffee.

Over the next few weeks, I alternated between the two portafilters and ran through all the fixes I had tried previously. Nothing helped! Then, one day, after having given up and resigned myself to the fact that my coffee machine was a ‘lemon’, I had an epiphany!

As I was tamping the coffee into the portafilter, I noticed that I was favoring my left side. To get a good purchase and to ensure that I exerted proper pressure to the tamper as I compressed the coffee, I was leaning, significantly, to the left. I looked closely at the tamped coffee and there was a discernible difference in the height of the coffee on the two sides of the portafilter. It was higher on the right which clearly indicated that the left side was more tightly packed than the right side. I pulled the shots and, sure enough, the left side shot glass was less full that the one on the right.

I refilled the portafilter with coffee and tamped it down again. This time I concentrated on tamping the coffee evenly. Of course, I got two perfect, even fills in the two shot glasses.

There was ‘never’ anything wrong with the machine . . . there was something wrong with the operator!

This may seem like a trivial issue, but this kind of dysfunctional mental process can distort everything we do. We distort reality in terms of our likes and dislikes, our past experiences, our expectations, our lack of information and proper observation, what we see on television, what we hear from friends, and what we spin out of our own butts. As a result of the distortions and delusions foisted on us by our own fictional narratives and those passed to us from external sources: entertainment and information media, social, and political processes, and educational, philosophical, and religious systems (to name a few), we have a lot to think about and evaluate.

On top of all of that, one of the least effective means of measuring, evaluating and communicating truth (the one I am trying to use here) is language.

There is an old brain teaser, “If a tree falls in the forest and no-one is there to hear it, is there a sound made by the falling tree?” The problem is not one of assessing the ‘true nature of sound.’ It is really a question of how we define what constitutes sound. Once we come to an agreement regarding our use of the language, the apparent issue with the nature of external phenomena disappears.

Imprecise language, biased interpretation of language, and a misplaced trust in the accuracy of language can be seen as a major cause in a great many of our problems as human beings.

That fundamental problem with communicating using words, combined with the mental issues inherit in being an 81 year old, ‘historically irresponsible’ person, leads me to consider this site and my writing here as a kind of docudrama/Cliff’s Notes.

In many cases, I am not going to use real names, times or places. I will attempt to move this narrative forward as accurately as possible, but realize that I might just be another ‘blind man’ holding an unidentifiable appendage attached to Schrödinger's Elephant.

That being said, I am going to just jump in and we’ll see if I float.

[junglekarmapippa]

C is for Card (old version)

The Alphabet of fluff

RJ adjusted his tie the way his father had taught him. He grabbed the vest of his three-piece suit and put it on, doing the buttons so it closed over the tie.

It was a grey, Italian suit and it made him look very elegant. He secretly loved that suit and had over a dozen ties and 6 shirts to wear with it. He couldn’t help but add a dash of color with his new purple tie.

He brushed his hair and checked his face, making sure there were no red spots after his first clean shave in months.

He buttoned the cuffs of the shirt, with a very elegant pair of silver cufflinks his father had gifted him many years ago.

He walked out of his bedroom and was welcomed with whistling and joking by his students.

”Look at him!” Casey called. “Tie and everything.

“Very funny, yes,” RJ agreed, looking at his very expensive watch. He couldn’t just go to the bank in the JKP delivery truck.

“When did you become a millionaire?” Fran asked.

“The day after I was born,” RJ answered, looking out the window to see if his taxi was there.

“Wait a sec,” Casey said. “Did you just say you became a millionaire the day after you were born?”

This made RJ look at them. “Yes. The woman who birthed me abandoned me in a hospital, safe heaven law, etcetera. My mother heard me crying as she and Dad made a visit to see how much they’d have to donate to redo the hospital’s ER.” He leaned to look out of the window, waiting for his taxi. “I’m technically worth a little over a billion dollars,” he added.

“You never told us this!” Lily said.

“Yeah!”

“I don’t like to flaunt my wealth. Also, my father had disowned me, until I saved him from Dai Shi.”

“RJ,” Casey asked, moving to where RJ was standing. “How much more are you hiding from us?”

“I made a list of all the stuff I have to tell you now that Dai Shi is defeated. I can’t remember where I put it.” A car honked. “That’s my cab.”

“Hang on,” Casey said, standing between him and the door. “Is anything we know about you, anything we saw from you a lie?”

“Of course not, Casey. I was my truest self when we were training to fight Dai Shi. You know me well enough to know this,” he gestured to show him the suit he was wearing. “is not me. Well, not completely, not anymore.” He walked towards the door and looked at them. “Even after mending my relationship with my dad, you guys are still my family.”

“Where are you going so well dressed then?” Dom asked.

“The bank. I have to pay the last installment of the loan I took for the restaurant.”

The taxi drove RJ to the bank branch he needed to go and he paid, got out, and walked into the bank.

“Mr. Finnsen!” He was greeted immediately.

“Mrs. Jones,” he saluted the receptionist.

“What can I help you with?”

“You called me, something about the American Express—”

“Centurion, yes,” she picked up her phone and dialed an extension.

“I’d also like to pay the mortgage I took,”

“Lucy will be with you shortly, can I offer you some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He waited for a couple of minutes, Mrs. Jones brought him a cup of coffee and he drank it slowly, feeling completely at ease with his surroundings.

He supposed anyone who didn’t know him since he was a child would assume this kind of environment would make him very uncomfortable, but this bank had nothing on his childhood home.

“Mr. Finnsen?” Lucy called as she approached him.

“Robert, please,” He said, handing Mrs. Jones the empty coffee cup.

He followed Lucy to her office and sat down across the desk from her.

“I have your centurion card right here, Robert,” Lucy said, unlocking a drawer.

“I’d also like to pay my loan,” RJ commented.

Lucy looked at him. “The whole thing?”

“The whole thing.”

“Okay, let’s start with the card and then we’ll deal with the loan.”

An hour later, RJ walked out a debt-free man, holding his Black AmEx. He hailed a cab, got in, and was about to give the driver the address to the loft when his sight fell on his new card. He gave a different address.

Casey, Theo, Lily, Fran, and Dom were starting to get worried. RJ had gone to the bank, but he was an exclusive client, it shouldn’t have taken him this long to return.

Finally, they hear RJ say “Thanks” and a car door shut. A minute later, RJ opened the loft door and entered, carrying several shopping bags.

“What on Earth?” Theo asked.

RJ put the bags on the training mat and smiled at them. “For you,” he said with a big smile.

“RJ… why?” Casey asked.

“Because you’re family. And I love you all very, very much,” The Wolf Master said. He was going to say something else but was interrupted by Lily.

“ARE THESE CAPEZIOS?!” She was looking into one of the bags, her face frozen in shock.

RJ turned to her, smiling. “Yes.” He looked at them all as he took his jacket and vest off. “You guys are my family. Please, don’t think about the prize tags on these. Just accept them, please.”

Lily was the first to move and she hugged him tightly.RJ hugged her back. Then Casey joined and RJ hugged them both. Finally, Theo and Dom joined and they stayed like that for a long time.

A long-needed group hug.

“You deserve them,” RJ said, from the center of the hug. “You always worked so hard.”

“Thank you,” Casey said. “We will cherish them.”

“Hopefully, the way I cherish you.”

[koh-i-noorbeautyusa]

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[waynes-multiverse]

Happiest of birthdays, friend! 🎉🎂 There’s a reason you have your own tag, but in honor of your special day and our shared love for Friends, here’s a toast:

A stands for your amazing creativity, always inspiring us all.

L stands for the legendary tales you weave with such flair.

Eeeeee stands for your endless imagination, which knows no bounds.

X stands for your ability to excel at everything you do.

To Alex, the storyteller, the hopeless romantic, and coffee legend! 🥳💜💜💜

I know how much this story specifically means to you, so I hope this little commentary makes a decent gift! 😘

“I keep tellin’ him to shave that ferret off his face,” Dean remarks. You turn to him with a grin just as he pulls you in next. 

Typical 😂

I love that the brothers always call her for help 😍 And God, Dean really is such a flirt. Not one opportunity passes, huh? The Duolingo got me too. Thank Goodness they called her 😂

Because what the fuck has he really ever done for you, other than put you in danger?

Ah, yes. Also typical. Oh, Dean, are we doing this dance again? 😆💚

Frankly, he doesn’t think you know what your touch does to him. 

N‘aww, our touch-starved man 🥺 And I love that she’s so expressive with her hands and body language. My best friend is Italian and is the same way. One thing I absolutely love about Romance languages 😂🩵

“Like Zorro,” Dean supplies. You give him an amused grin.

Omfg not the Zorro awakening! Dean suddenly perked up at that 🤣 (but seems like she matches him on that fantasy lol)

The man wears a black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, tucked neatly into his dark wash jeans. His black hair is long and a little wild, almost brushing his shoulders. While he holds out a smooth note, he looks up and finds your gaze. His lips curve on a smile.

My head immediately went there 😂:

Even though they’re nothing alike, it’s the vibe I’m getting 😅

He howls with pain and tries to throw you off. He manages to backhand you in the face and shove you away. You nearly roll an ankle on the small rocks rolling under your heels, and you end up on your back with the wind knocked out of you. 

First of all, I love this entire case! I’ve been looking into some Hawaiian supernatural lore, and there should definitely be more mythology from other cultures in fics we didn’t get on Supernatural. It’s like bonus episodes 😎👏

Second of all, kudos to her for doing all of her fighting in heels! What an absolute badass! Sam and Dean could never 😆

Third, Sam knowing everything and watching them all knowing is probably the cutest fucking thing ☺️

He flirts with anything, you remind yourself, when disappointment starts to carve a hole in your heart. Don’t take it so seriously.

Of course she’d think that, but you can totally see she holds a special place in his heart 🥹 (and Dean’s just too… well, Dean to do something about it lol)

Coffee with milk, he mentally translates. That much, he can work out. 

Bravo! The Duolingo paid off lmao

And of course he went for the curse words. Those are always the first ones you learn in any language 😂😂 (The proof? I understood all of them without needing the translation lol)

He tucks a finger beneath your chin and lets his thumb brush your full lower lip… 

Then he leans down to kiss you thoroughly. His plush lips move over yours, hot, wet, and sinfully good. 

And the melting begins… Please wipe me up after I’m done reading. Thank you 🫠🫠🫠

Her ex sounds like a grade A asshole 🤬 Well, good riddance to that hijo de la gran puta 🖕

“I get the feeling that you’ve been with some ain’t shit guys,” Dean says. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lump me in with the rest of ‘em.”

Holy shit! That gave me the rest 🔥🔥🔥

That coffee still has him wired.

It’s like she gave him 8 Redbull for bedtime. But at least it’ll pay off for her *wink-wink* 😂

This was such an amazing start to this universe, friend!!! I absolutely love their dynamic and most importantly how much of you is in this fic 😍☕️❤️‍🔥

Hope you have a wonderful day, Alex! The world wouldn’t be the same without you in it!! 💜

Midnight Espresso

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson. 

AN: The muse hit me hard on this one last night lol. I felt like "Midnight Espresso" was catchier than the working title, "Midnight Coffee Shots."

Thanks for the encouragement and inspo: @deanwinchesterswitch @iprobablyshipit91 @freewastelandstrawberry

Song Inspo: "2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)" by Lizzo

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, mutual pining, body insecurity, ass appreciation, supernatural shenanigans, naughty language, bad bitch o’clock and thicc thirty. 

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

When you spot the caller ID on your buzzing cell phone, you have to smile. You answer the call.

“Well if it isn’t Dean I need a favor Winchester,” you tease. You hear his genuine chuckle, deep and smooth in your car speakers. 

“Hey, sweetheart…” He hesitates, which makes your lips curve wryly. 

“Yeah, Dean? What’cha got?”

“I need a favor.”

You sigh dramatically. “So fucking predictable.”

“Sorry, but look. We really do need you…we’ve got a situation.”

“Oh, a situation? How specific,” you chuckle.

“All right, smartass,” he says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. “Just listen…”

When he tells you the lowdown on the case he and Sam are on, you have to change directions—all the way to a dusty little town in the south of Texas.

There you find the brothers Winchester outside La Cantina Libre. 

You greet Sam first, stretching up to meet his hug. He’s friendly and warm when he rubs your back.

“Good to see you,” he says. 

“You too, lumberjack,” you reply, noting the new layer of scruff he’s sporting on his face. Sam gives a dry chuckle and rubs his bearded chin.

“I keep tellin’ him to shave that ferret off his face,” Dean remarks. You turn to him with a grin just as he pulls you in next. 

“Aw, he looks good,” you say, giving Sam an encouraging look behind Dean’s back. The taller Winchester sports a good-natured smile. 

But you revel a bit in Dean’s warmth when he holds you tight, then let out a little breath when he pulls away, grasping your arms.

“So do you,” he says with a wink. 

You roll your eyes and playfully hit his shoulder. “Right. Eight hours of cross-country grime really becomes me.”

But you can’t help blushing a little at his smirk.

Always a fucking flirt.

You turn your head to the bar in front of you. 

“What’s the deal with this place?”

“The husband of one of the victims is inside,” Sam explains. 

According to the police report, his wife returned home from a night out with her friends three days ago. She sat down in the middle of the living room, on the ground. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t eat. 

When Hector Rivera brought his wife to the hospital, neither fluids or medication helped her sleep or retain any nutrients. The official cause of death was starvation and dehydration.

It was a baffling case, both for the doctors and the police, who never found any criminal evidence to support a murder investigation.

“Okay, have you talked to Hector?” you ask. Dean raises his brows at you.

“That’s where you come in,” he says. “The guy only speaks Spanish. Neither me or Sam got the chops to Duolingo our way through.”

You can certainly believe that of Dean, but you still make sure to tease Sam on your way inside the bar. He’d studied Latin in high school, but hadn’t bothered to take Spanish? 

“Definitely a white boy move,” you tease, which Sam accepts with a chuckle. 

But you realize that the guys really would’ve been at a loss here. Most of the bar patrons are Spanish-speaking Latinos (you are a mere stone’s throw from the border of Mexico, after all). 

You ask around for Hector and find him at the end of the bar, drinking alone. He’s early forties at most, dark hair, tan skin mere shades lighter than yours. He has three shots down in front of him, and he’s working on picking up his fourth. Sam and Dean trail after you as you slide into the stool next to Hector. 

“Señor Rivera,” you greet him in your native tongue and pull out your fabricated police badge. “Good evening.”

He glances at you, then your badge with furrowed brows. 

“What do you want?” he asks in Spanish, just a hint slurring. 

“I’m very sorry about your wife. I know you’ve already given your statement, but we’re looking further into the circumstances surrounding Nina’s death,” you explain. 

He perks up at that, his brown eyes briefly lighting with something other than cold, hard grief. 

“The doctors couldn’t explain it, he admits. “They couldn’t do a damn thing. I just don’t understand…”

He glares down at his hands, at the glass of liquor between them. He fights to control himself, but you can see it’s a losing battle. You rest a gentle hand on his arm, and when Hector meets your eyes, you know he’ll find genuine sympathy. 

“I want to help you,” you tell him. “At the very least, I can look for a real explanation on what happened to Nina. Can you tell me what you know?”

A moment later, he pats your hand on his arm. And he tells you.

Dean watches from his spot behind you while he and Sam blend in, each drinking a beer. Dean admires how easily you connect with people. How genuine you are in wanting to help them. 

He knows you’ve spent years in this job. Maybe not as long as him, but long enough to get jaded. You aren’t, and you care. 

Dean thinks it’s part of the reason why you always answer when he calls. You’ve never said no to him, always been there when he and Sam need you. And that, he somehow feels guilty about.

Because what the fuck has he really ever done for you, other than put you in danger?

“Dean,” Sam says, nudging his side. 

It brings Dean back to the present when he sees you’re getting up from the bar. Despite his inner conflict, he can’t help but notice the curve of your ample ass in those tight jeans. An enticing ratio of thick thighs to smaller waist, and generous cup size to match. 

But when you turn around, it’s your sad smile that grabs his attention. You draw near, and Dean forces himself to stay relaxed when your warm hand rests on his forearm. 

It’s a familiar, comfortable thing for you to be touchy. You’re an expressive person, always talking with your hands, full-body animated when you tell stories.

Sometimes you’ll grab his wrist playfully, or brush your hand along his back when you pass by. Or you’ll grab his shoulder to steady yourself, and lean into him when you’ve had too much to drink. 

Dean likes it—all of it. In fact, he finds it endearing as hell. 

But it’s also a problem. A unique kind of torture to keep himself in check around you… 

Frankly, he doesn’t think you know what your touch does to him. 

In fact, he knows you don’t, because while you’ve got your smooth, tan hand on his arm, you’re more looking at Sam when you say:

“I think I know what this is.”

“El Sombrerón,” you repeat yourself as you flip through a book on South American lore. 

“Shouldn’t you be an expert on this already?” Dean teases as you rifle through the pages. “I thought Latin American legends were right up your alley.”

The three of you are back at their delightfully crap motel of the week. You and Sam sit at the two-seater table while Dean leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

You shoot him a wry glance. “I’m Cuban, not Guatemalan. Though apparently, El Sombrerón appears in Mexican mythology as well.”

Hector said that the night his wife went to the bar with her friends, her friend Jennine saw a man with a black jacket and a hat to match. 

She said he flirted with Nina, a sweet but introverted soul. She turned him down, of course, but he tried to cajole her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and touch her cheek. That’s when Jennine stepped in and cursed the guy out, threatening to break his nose if he didn’t back off. 

They didn’t see him again that night, but you suspect the damage had been done the moment he touched her…

“All right, so he’s a boogeyman of sorts,” Sam says, gesturing at the vivid illustration in the book he’s holding. You peer over at the page and nod.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the cautionary tale. A man dressed in black, wide-brimmed hat—”

“Like Zorro,” Dean supplies. You give him an amused grin.

“No, not like Zorro,” you reply. “Instead of being a fine-ass caped crusader with a voice deep and gritty as sin, El Sombrerón likes to lure women into the woods.” 

Dean raises a brow at your description (Deep and gritty as sin, huh?), but you continue.

“Specifically, he’s got a fetish for long hair,” you recount. “Here it says El Sombrerón’s voice and touch are a curse, rendering his victims unable to eat or sleep. Eventually, they die.”

That falls between you all like hot lead. Until Sam voices the question you’re all thinking.

“So how do we find him?”

“For the record, I’m against this fucking idea,” Dean mutters to his brother. Once again, they’re patrons of La Cantina Libre, each nursing a beer. 

“Yeah, you’ve made that known a few times now,” Sam replies in a low whisper. “She’ll be okay, Dean. We’re right here for her.”

They’re just on standby, watching you ignore flirtations from men with a coy smile. You leave a delicate ring of red lipstick on your straw while you nurse a Tequila Sunrise. 

Dean subtly (to Sam, not so subtly) watches you. His elbow rests on the counter, chin in hand, hand over mouth, while his eyes roam down your simple black dress. Your ankles are crossed under the bar counter. The toe of your platform heel bouncing against the foot rail is the only thing telling Dean that you’re a bit nervous.

You’ve let your hair down on purpose, trying to entice the “Zorro” monster with the smooth waves running down your back.

On any other night, Dean might’ve enjoyed this place. He has a good beer in hand. There’s some live music tonight, in the form of a man playing a shiny silver guitar, crooning into the mic. You turn your head to watch for a moment, and Dean sees the way your gaze sharpens on the musician. 

The man wears a black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, tucked neatly into his dark wash jeans. His black hair is long and a little wild, almost brushing his shoulders. While he holds out a smooth note, he looks up and finds your gaze. His lips curve on a smile.

Your face heats up at the attention, but you find yourself captivated by those eyes. They’re intense, almost black under the stage lights. And as the musician’s song comes to a close, you feel a trill of something run down your spine when he sets down his silver guitar. 

Then he makes his way toward you.

He settles into the free seat next to you and orders two tequila shots.

“I have a drink, thanks,” you say. The man only smiles. 

“You’ve been holding onto that Sunrise for two hours,” he says. “I just thought you might like something stronger, before the sun actually comes up.”

Inside, you want to roll your eyes at the cheesy line.

Instead, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and his gaze is drawn to the motion. You notice it with mounting suspicion. 

“Maybe I do,” you reply. “What’s your name?”

“Miguel,” he says, offering a charming smile. “And yours, amor?”

You consider him with flirtatious eyes and a tilt of your head. You’re fairly certain you have your target.

You lay a hand on his arm, over his jacket. You lean in close enough to whisper in his ear. 

“Do you really need my name?” you ask in Spanish. 

Miguel smirks when you lean back. He offers you his hand to help you off of your stool. Wary of actually touching his skin to yours, you try your best to be graceful and sensuous as you slide out of your seat and onto your heels without his help. You then walk out of the bar through the back without waiting for him to follow you (hoping that he does).

Your instincts are right, however. When you make it out of the bar, Miguel is indeed closing in behind you. You glance over your shoulder, offering a coy smile. But when you look ahead, you have to utter a gasp. 

Miguel is suddenly there to grab you and pull you in by your waist. 

“When will your friends be joining us?” he asks, trailing a finger down your cheek. It makes you shudder, but you pretend to be confused.

“Friends?”

“Dumb and dumber, watching you like a hawk,” he says, raising a brow. “Oh, mi amor. I know a pack of hunters when I see them.”

Sam and Dean watch the musician run back for his guitar, slipping it carefully in its case before he takes off after you. 

“Get the guitar. Got a feeling about that thing,” Dean says to Sam. “I’ll follow ‘em.”

The moment Dean walks out the back of the bar, he stops short and draws his gun. His body tenses and his face falls into a glare when he sees Miguel holding you close (and against your will). But Miguel catches sight of Dean.

He forcefully turns you around and wraps an arm across your chest, pulling you back as you struggle. 

“Good evening,” Miguel greets with a smirk. He nods at the full moon. “Beautiful night for a lover’s serenade.”

His voice alone is a threat, Dean knows. And by the way your eyes widen, so do you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Mike,” Dean snarks. “Mind if I call you Mike?”

He raises his gun, but Miguel tsks at him. You grit your teeth as he pulls your hair back away from your cheek. His breath is hot an unpleasant in your ear, causing you to shudder.

“I do wish we had more time, amor,” he says, trailing a hand down your ass and thigh. “I like to play with my food.”

A hot lance of anger runs through Dean, but it runs even hotter through you, igniting your temper and making your patience run right the fuck out. You snap your head back and catch Miguel in the nose. He wrenches back with a pained cry.

You try to ignore the resulting ache in your head and reach for the silver knife in your thigh holster, beneath your dress. But Miguel grabs you by the hair. Suddenly his face has become grotesque, revealing its true form with a mouth filled with sharp, needle-like teeth.

You gasp as a trill of magic runs through your body from his touch. It paralyzes you as he wrenches your neck back and prepares to bite a chunk right out of your neck. 

But Dean shoots a warning shot by the creature’s head, all-too close to yours as he approaches. 

“Hey!” Sam calls out. He attracts everyone’s attention, even Miguel’s. Sam holds the silver guitar. 

“This is what you use to play Pied Piper, right?” Sam asks. Miguel’s face hardens, but before he can do anything about it, Sam smashes the guitar to smithereens on the gravel road. 

Miguel lets out an outraged hiss. While he’s distracted, Dean takes another shot that hits the creature in the shoulder. It gives you the opening you need to grab your knife and stab him in the leg.

Miguel cries out in pain, but before you can scramble away, he grabs your face. His sharpened nails bite into your skin, making you wince. You manage to kick out his knee. It forces him to release you, unless he wants to eat the ground hard. 

Sam is there to catch you while Dean closes in. He shoots, the creature evades, grabbing Dean’s wrist and punching him across the face. The hunter goes down to the gravel with hands held out to brace himself. But he has a large knife on his belt that he retrieves next, only to be knocked out of his hand when Miguel bears on him. 

He throws off Sam’s attempt to pull him off Dean, throwing him hard against the dumpster in the alley. 

While Dean grapples bare-handed with the monster, trying his best to evade gnashing teeth in his face, you find his discarded knife and bury it deep into Miguel’s back. 

He howls with pain and tries to throw you off. He manages to backhand you in the face and shove you away. You nearly roll an ankle on the small rocks rolling under your heels, and you end up on your back with the wind knocked out of you. 

But Dean’s able to kick Miguel off and finish what you started. Dean pins the man on the ground and twists the knife deeper. And he doesn’t let go until the creature below him stops twitching. 

Dean takes in deep breaths to account for the way adrenaline has set his blood pumping. He still sits on the ground with the body next to him. But then, he finds you kneeling next to him in your now dusty dress. Your eyes are worried when you grasp his shoulder, taking note of his badly scuffed knee. 

Dean reaches for you on reflex, grabbing your arm. Both of you manage to ask your burning questions at the same time—

“You okay?”

“Are you all right?”

You crack first with a giggle. Dean quirks a grin and thumbs at your cheek. 

“Yeah, all good,” he says. 

Your relieved smile reaches your eyes, and it warms him. “Good.”

Behind you both, Sam hides his own knowing smile.

Sam and Dean invite you to stay over at the bunker after the hunt, instead of making the even longer drive home. You’re too exhausted to say no.

By the time you get to the bunker, you’re dead on your feet, practically swaying down the stairs. 

“I’m so fuckin’ tiiiired…”

“Come on, stop whining,” Dean teases as he helps you down. Sam has dropped your duffel bag on the ground floor and gone on ahead to shower, leaving you and Dean to figure this out. 

“Why don’t you just take off the heels?” he wryly suggests.

“Hell no,” you refuse with a stubborn shake of your head.

You don’t want to contemplate how much monster guts have glossed the stairs of this bunker, via the brothers’ boots. 

Maybe it’s a silly reason to suffer, but is it really suffering if you have Dean Winchester escorting you with both hands down the stairs? 

His hands are warm and you trust the strength of his hold, but when your heel wobbles on the edge of a step, you still go for the railing rather than sink all your weight on Dean. He laughs at you, and you maturely stick out a tongue at him. 

“At this point, it’d be faster if I freakin’ carried you,” Dean remarks. He reaches for you, but you stop him with a heel in his sternum.

“Eh-eh! Don’t even try,” you laugh. “I totally got this.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but you lower your heeled foot and manage to climb down the last few steps of the rickety staircase…at least, what your exhausted brain thinks is the last one. 

You almost go ass over tea kettle when you miss the final stair with a yelp—but Dean is there to catch you. 

His arms are like steel bands around your frame, curving around your lower back and pulling you flush against his chest. You gasp and cling to his arms. When you look up at him with wide eyes, you find his amused face…and maybe something else in his eyes. He tilts his head down at you. 

“Well, well. Look who keeps falling for me?” he remarks. 

You blush at the flirtatious edge of his tone. The gleam in his green eyes; you take it for amusement only, not realizing that he’s barely resisting the urge to claim your lips. 

“Right,” you laugh him off with a pat on his chest. “When was the first time again?”

You make sure your heels are firmly on the ground before you push away from Dean. As you thought, he doesn’t try to keep you. He still looks amused as he lets you go.

He flirts with anything, you remind yourself, when disappointment starts to carve a hole in your heart. Don’t take it so seriously.

You say goodnight before you take up your duffel bag and go to find a free bedroom (and a hot shower). All the while, you bite your lip against a deep-seated feeling of uncertainty.

Dean watches you go, and you don’t see the way his mask of a smile fades into a frown. 

After a nice hot shower and changing into your pajamas, that moment with Dean has unsettled you enough that you're not quite ready to go to sleep. Maybe you’re in the mood for a midnight snack. 

You take out a couple of supplies from your bag and head over to the kitchen. There you set up your little cafetera coffee press with water, and a generous few tablespoons of Café Bustelo grounds of espresso. While that brews on the stove, you make some popcorn in the microwave. 

You don’t realize that the rich smell reaches Dean all the way in his room. He sniffs the air in interest, then in confusion. 

She’s making coffee at midnight? 

He gets up out of bed and pads down to the kitchen where you’ve taken over. A large bowl of popcorn is ready and waiting for him to snatch a handful, while you’re checking the little metal carafe you have going on the stove. 

“What’cha up to, sweetheart?” he asks. You greet him with a smile. 

“Café con leche,” you reply. 

Coffee with milk, he mentally translates. That much, he can work out. 

“You drink coffee at this time of night?” he asks. 

“My people invented it. I’ve been inoculated to this stuff since I was eight years old,” you quip. “Want some? Believe me, you’ll love it.”

He shrugs. “Sure. But if I end up too wired to fucking sleep, be prepared to suffer with me.”

You laugh. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something to do.”

Dean’s not sure if you meant that as flirtatious as it sounded. But by your briefly widening eyes and blushing cheeks, maybe you just realized it. He smirks and draws closer while you break out two mugs from the cabinet. 

He notices your chosen pajamas with secret appreciation (a large threadbare Journey shirt over spandex shorts). You fill the little shorts out well. 

Though Dean spots several small holes in the shirt. He teasingly sticks his finger through one in your short sleeve. 

“Lose a fight with a pair of scissors?” he jokes. 

You shoot him an amused glance over your shoulder.

“You are the reigning king of dad jokes. I’ll have you know, this is my lucky shirt.”

He snorts in response. “What makes it lucky?”

You just bite your lip and focus back on your task at hand. With the coffee done percolating, you measure out two steaming shots of espresso into each mug. 

“Hey, you brought it up,” Dean reminds you. 

You sigh, and after you pour in the sugar and the evaporated milk into each mug, you turn around and lean against the counter. 

“I’ve never had a bad dream while wearing this shirt to bed,” you confess. His teasing gentles at that. 

When you turn back around to put the finishing touches on what you’re doing, Dean’s expression becomes more fond as he watches you. 

You then offer him his Batman mug with a brighter smile. 

“Buen provecho,” you say.

“What does that mean?” he asks predictably, taking the mug from you. 

“Enjoy! Like bon appetite, basically.”

“Ah,” he raises his brows before he takes a sip. Then they raise even higher as he hums in pleasure. “Ooh, it’s sweet…and strong. Shit.”

“Very,” you say with a chuckle, taking your own sip. You make a sound of delight, complete with a little “happy dance” shimmy. “Almost as good as my grandma used to make it.”

Dean smiles in amusement at your antics. The two of you sit at the kitchen island, where there are three stools and the bowl of popcorn. The salty snack is just the right balance for the sweet coffee.

“She taught you how to make this?” he asks. 

You nod. “Yep! She was an amazing cook too. Learned everything I know from her.”

“Hmm, might need to sample something of yours sometime,” Dean says, peering at you over his mug. His tone is deceptively light, but you read the double meaning in his eyes.

You hide the way your mouth falls open behind your own mug. Instead of answering, you nod and take a delicate sip. Your gaze veers away from his as you blush.

He’s in a good mood tonight, you think in bemusement. 

“So tell me. What are the best curse words in Spanish?” Dean asks. 

You have to laugh. Your head ducks as you reach for his arm. His eyes briefly go to your hand, and he smirks. 

“Of course that’s the first thing you want to know,” you tease. You take back your hand and think about his question. “Hmm…I mean, there are the basics. Coño, carajo. Like 'damn it,' 'fucking hell,' and so forth.”

“Come on, you can do better than that,” Dean says. 

“Well, yeah,” you say with a grin. “Comemierda is a Cuban fan favorite.”

“Which means?”

“Literally? Someone who eats shit,” you laugh. “A stupid asshole, basically.”

Dean’s grin deepens. “Nice.”

“The best one of all time is probably…ugh, my mom would wash my mouth out with soap for even saying it.” You cover your face with both hands, but Dean nudges your elbow. 

“Come on, give it to me,” he teases. You peek out at him from between your hands. Then you stage whisper to him.

“Hijo de la gran puta,” you say. It rolls off your tongue in such a way that, even though Dean knows it’s vulgar in some way, the ease in which you say it raises the hairs on his arms. 

“I like that,” he says. 

You giggle at him. “You don’t even know what the fuck it means.”

“Don’t matter. I just like how it sounds,” he says. “Gimme the Google Translate.”

You shoot him a narrowed look for that one. “It means son of the grand whore. Literally, the chiefest of them all. The grand poohbah of whores.” 

Dean splutters with laughter. His hand slaps the table, and you shush him, reminding him that Sam is probably sleeping by now.

“It’s literally one of the worst things you can say to somebody,” you say, though you’re also choking on laughter. By the end of it, you and Dean are chortling like fools and getting high on espresso and sugar. 

You teach him how to roll his r’s, and at his request, more slang. You explain how certain Hispanics and Latino cultures use different words for the same thing (at times, very confusing), and how something innocent to an American, like a papaya fruit, means something very different for Cubans. 

For Dean’s part, he’s genuinely interested in what you have to teach him. But he also just likes hearing you speak the language. It rolls off your tongue gracefully, effortless and sensuous without you meaning to. He likes it enough that he tells you his honest thoughts.

“It all sounds incredibly hot, I’m not gonna lie,” he says with a chuckle. You blush at that, something he finds endearing. 

“You sound like my ex,” you say in amusement. “He only went out with me to help him with his Spanish.”

Dean sobers a bit at that. “What?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle dryly. “He was trying to land some job as a strip club bouncer, but we were in Miami at the time. They needed someone bilingual.”

Dean doesn’t like the resigned tone of your voice. 

“Yeah well, the bouncer?” he remarks, trying for a teasing bump of his hand against yours. “Come on. You should at least be aiming for the owner.”

You flash him a brief smile and nod. “Ah, so I set my sights too low. Got it.”

It’s then that Dean starts to wonder about the kinds of guys you’ve gotten with in the past. Not that he has room to judge, but he can see that there was no love lost there for you. 

Dean has a thought, deep in his bones, that you deserve someone who sees how special you are. How kind, funny, loyal, caring…

“Seriously,” Dean says. “You can do better.”

“Right,” you laugh. But he’s not laughing. You raise a brow at him.

“What?” you ask.

His lips purse, but he thinks better of what he wants to say. 

“Nothing. ‘S none of my business,” he says. 

You stare back at him and frown thoughtfully. You think you’re lucky to get a date, the way you constantly move around. 

You don’t have stability, and even though you try to keep in shape, try to avoid the shittier fast food, it’s been a challenge to maintain yourself. You worry that you’ve gained five pounds in diner food alone in the past couple of months…

Okay, mostly, you’re happy with your curves. But the way Dean’s looking at you now, you can’t help a flutter of hope that rises in your chest, making your heart beat faster.  

Maybe you’re finally ready to know how he really sees you. 

“Talk to me, Dean,” you nod, and you reach out a hand to grasp his wrist. 

He looks down at your hand. After a moment, he sighs and lays his own over yours. He meets your gaze. 

“Look, I think I hear what you’re not saying,” Dean says. “And you’re sellin’ yourself short, sweetheart. That’s all.”

It takes you a moment, but a soft smile spreads across your face. It warms him in a way he doesn’t expect, but maybe he should. 

Biting your lip with a bit of embarrassment, you squeeze his hand before you get up to take the two empty mugs with you to the sink. 

“Que hombre tan pendejo, hermoso,” you mutter. “Ni siquiera sabes lo que me haces.”

You don’t realize that Dean actually hears you. He perks up, standing from his seat and approaching you from behind. 

“What was that?” he asks. 

You jump slightly, and a blush burns down your neck as you turn off the sink and spin back around. Dean is there, crossing his arms and staring you down with a raised brow. A hint of a smirk begins to edge around his mouth.

“What?” you ask.

“Oh, no. You said something just now,” he says. Like a dog with a bone, he’s not going to let this one go.

Your lips threaten to smile, but you shake your head stubbornly. “You’ll just have to invest in that Duolingo subscription.”

Dean joins you by the sink. His hand braces on the kitchen counter. 

“Well, either you’re insulting me, or you’re flirting with me,” Dean says.

His lips then edge into a smirk. “The first one I could forgive, but the second…might require some retribution.”

Your eyes slowly widen. “What, why?”

Dean has to chuckle, because your expression is all but an admission of guilt. It’s too damn adorable. 

“Because you can’t flirt with me without me knowin’ about it,” he says. “That’s just rude.”

His hands brace the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. The only way to get through him is to tell him the truth, or suffer the consequences.

You gaze up at him with wide eyes and a full flush across your tan skin. Is he actually doing this right now?

Your heart beats loud in your ears like conga drums. 

“So which is it, sweetheart?” Dean asks. His playful, but singularly focused green-eyed gaze tells you he really does want an answer.

“Well, it was kinda both,” you say with a shy, but mischievous smile. Dean’s smirk deepens.

He tucks a finger beneath your chin and lets his thumb brush your full lower lip… 

Then he leans down to kiss you thoroughly. His plush lips move over yours, hot, wet, and sinfully good. 

But it’s also short—much too short for your liking when he parts from you to gauge your reaction. He seems to like what he finds in your eyes.

“Was that the punishment?” you tease. “Kinda weak.”

Dean raises a brow. “Consider it a start.”

He pulls you into him by your waist and continues where he left off, with another searing kiss. You hum with pleasure against his lips as your fingers delve into his hair. 

His hands move down your back, making a shiver of delight coarse through you. They land on cradling your ass, squeezing and pressing you into him. 

You gasp into his mouth. You can feel his length already hard against you. That alone trills anticipation down your spine, and a dizzy feeling, the fact that your touch is turning him on. You nip at his lower lip in response, licking into his mouth. It elicits a sound deep in his throat as his touch becomes more demanding. 

He then bends down to reach behind your thighs, and before you know what’s happening, you squeal when he lifts you up on the counter. 

You grab his shoulders like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

Damn, he’s strong!

“What’s the matter?” he laughs. 

“I’m just not used to being manhandled,” you quip. “These hips don’t lie, but they definitely don’t fly.” 

Dean snorts. “Says who?”

“My ex, for one thing,” you joke again. Though it isn’t actually a joke.

Dean, again, isn’t laughing. 

His hands aren’t large enough to span your thighs, but it’s not for lack of trying. His firm touch burning up your parted thighs is distracting, warm over your skin, and over your thin shorts. His thumbs dip between your inner thighs, making you breathe a bit more shallowly. 

“I get the feeling that you’ve been with some ain’t shit guys,” Dean says. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lump me in with the rest of ‘em.”

Your eyes widen. Dean grins down at you and takes the opportunity to kiss you again. His hand disappears in your hair and he presses kisses down your neck. A pleasant tingle breaks out across your skin as you tilt your head for him, giving him access. 

Your fingers begin toying with his collar and glide down his chest. Unlike you, everything about him is firm, you think. But you start to think that he likes your softness, the thickness of your curves.

You didn’t take him for an ass man, but he seems very happy to get a fistful of it. It’s as flattering as it is arousing.

“I’ve wanted to get this perfect ass in my hands since the day we met,” he says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire, but what he says next surprises you even more. 

“Wanted to ask you out that night,” he confesses. 

You pause at that. You met Sam and Dean two years ago already. The fact that he’d wanted to ask you out was one thing, but he’d been holding onto this for two years?

“Really?” you ask. 

Dean reads your incredulity, huffing a laugh. “You’re really finding that hard to believe right now?” 

He rocks against your clothed core so you can feel his reaction to you. You instinctively gasp and hold onto him. You slide your arms around his back to keep him close, even though you’re blushing. He holds you back, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

“Well, why didn’t you then?” you ask. But he hesitates to answer you. 

“Dean?” you press.

“It…never seemed the right time,” he says. “And to be honest, you didn’t seem all that interested.”

Until now, goes unspoken. But you frown up at him. 

“You don’t really believe that,” you say. 

Dean leans back a bit, so you move your hands to his chest, gripping the fabric of his undershirt to he doesn’t go too far. He looks down at you, a bit uncertain for the first time. You can’t believe that he could possibly be insecure about your interest and affections. 

“I attract a lot of crap in my life,” he admits. “Shit you want no part of.”

You soften further at that. Someone who was just going to hook up with you once and never call you again didn’t consider things like that. You grab onto the lapels of his plaid shirt and press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Well, that’s a stupid reason,” you say. Is this the real reason he only calls you when he really needs the help?

Maybe it’s his convoluted way of protecting you…while maybe, still wanting to see you.

“It’s really not,” Dean shakes his head. “Truth be told…I’m no good for you either.”

That disheartens you. 

You’re in this job too. And while you know that Sam and Dean are often at the center of a lot of Apocalypse-level shit, you still don’t think it’s an excuse to keep both you and Dean from possibly…being happy.

His gaze is steady, until it starts to lower away from you. You take his face in your hands, picking him back up to meet your eyes. Your thumbs caress the prickly stubble along his cheeks.

“Apparently I get with a lot of ain’t shit guys,” you reply, “but you’re definitely not one of them, Dean.”

He flickers at a smile, but he still isn’t convinced you two should do this after all.

So it’s up to you, you realize. 

You bring him down to you for a kiss. It’s slow at first. You ply him with short, sweet presses of your lips to his. But then you both inhale as you deepen the kiss, tilting your head and prying his lips with your tongue. He can’t help but welcome you in, and he takes you back into his arms.

You smile against his lips, letting your hands run down his chest and under the top layer of plaid. He shrugs out of it, then the undershirt as you help him tug it up. It falls in a heap on the floor, followed closely by your hole-ridden Journey shirt, then your little shorts.

Dean takes in the sight of your flushed skin, the rise and fall of your breasts, and even the hesitant downturn of your lips. You’re a bit self-conscious, bared for him for the first time, but he doesn’t give you a reason to have any reservations. 

His hands cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, rolling his thumbs over the hardening buds. You let out a shaky breath against his lips, and you veer away from his mouth to burn a hot, wet trail down his neck. His voice rumbles, and you smile, nipping playfully and touching him wherever you see fit. 

“Tell me what you said before,” he rasps into your ear.

You remain playfully tight-lipped as you continue to shower his bare skin with affection. But your breath hitches when a hand leaves your breast to once again slide up the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” he says. “That’s why I need you tell me…”

You lean close to his ear and whisper. “Nope.”

Dean’s chuckle shakes his frame. His other hand cups your cheek, slipping into your hair. You hold him to you, and for the first time it’s skin to skin, with your breasts pressing against his chest. 

“All right…you sure I can’t convince you?” he asks. There’s a note of warning that you’re just a bit too slow to detect. 

His fingers swiftly bypass your panties, pushing them aside so he can tease the seam of your pussy.

You bite your lip and lean back enough to see his face, to see the mischievous edge of his smirk. You inhale sharply when two of his fingers slip in and probe in your wet heat, but don’t go further than your entrance.

“Dean,” you whine. “Please…”

“Tell me,” he insists, “what you said.” 

His lips graze your cheek, down the column of your neck. You feel the rasp of his stubble against your skin. Meanwhile, your pussy is pulsing with need, all but chasing his fingers that do no more than brush and tease. Your nails accidently bite into his shoulders in frustration.

He sucks in a pained breath. You gasp and apologize, soothing over his skin. 

Dean just laughs and noses along your throat. He knows exactly what you need, but he wants to win the game. 

At this point, you just want him.

So finally, you admit it. You confess into his ear the things you whispered in your mother tongue.  

“I said, you dumb, beautiful man,” you say, smiling with your cheek pressed against his. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”

Dean grins into your neck. You really don’t realize it. But to him, your voice is rich as black velvet, and sexy as hell. Doesn’t matter what language you’re speaking.  

Two of his fingers sink deeply into your pussy. You whimper, squeezing gratefully around his hand. 

“Please, Dean…”

“I got you, baby. Just relax,” he says with a grin. 

He explores your inner channel and begins to discover what you respond to, what angles make you grip onto him tighter, make your voice keen higher, especially when his thumb circles over your clit. 

You cling to him for dear life, gripping his hair, uttering encouragements (not all of them in English), and finally praises when that hot coil within you snaps and releases. 

Dean holds you while you come over his hand. You’re squeezing the shit out of him, really, in every way possible. But when that dam breaks, all you can do is lean against him and try to catch your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he chuckles. He rubs your back, pets your hair. 

“I’m…” you trail. You lean back and take his smug face in your hands, and you kiss him. You put into that gesture what your voice fails to confess. 

And when both of you run out of breath, Dean pulls back just enough to see your eyes.

“We’re not done, by any damn means,” he says. That coffee still has him wired. And at this point, his cock is throbbing with need. “But let’s head over to my room.”

“Yeah, I think I need to help you with this before you implode,” you tease him with a gentle hand along his rock-hard length. He utters a strained sound that makes you sympathetic. 

But before anything else, you caress his cheek fondly. Tonight matters to you, and you think it matters to him too. Dean flashes you a rare, boyish grin that has you smiling even harder. 

Damn it. You might just love this man. 

He helps you down from the counter, though his arms stay wrapped around you because of your jelly legs. His resolution is to pick you up over his shoulder.

“Let’s fly, baby!” With a swift spank of your ass, he carries you the rest of the way to his room. You squeal and try to stifle your giggles all the way there. 

One thing’s for sure. Sam is going to hate you both in the morning. 

AN: 😂 Well, that was fun! Please let me know what you thought.

**Just to preface, I am in fact a plus-sized Latina (Cuban, Puerto Rican and Dominican)! 🌶️🌶️

And I just want to say, I wrote a specific plus-sized body type here, but we're all different and equally beautiful in our shapes, skin tones, and otherwise outward trappings.

I like to think of us as a box of lovely assorted chocolates (not the cheap factory-made bullshit either. The chocolatier, handmade assortments that cost an arm and a leg, shipping not included).

Each delectable and unique, with something extra special inside. 😘

Keep Reading:

Yes, this has become a series! Next up is Touch Me:

Summary: Dean isn’t used to how “touchy” you can be, but he never said he didn’t like it.

▶️ Next Story: Touch Me

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[frankietitaliandaddy]

BOSS Man ♂️ the big Extra hairy daddy bear NY ITALIAN DADDY BEAR MASTER Telaro the big Extra thick fingers and his hairy chest very cheap such a childhood story of the crying did you know he'd joke about the guys doing it hugged him his legs all spread apart just knee hugs hung down on his lap and turning back to look at the chubby Dad bubba bubby's spanked and mad I did Victor hug inside the house to cozy

fat hairy white master and a good day with the boss babe I heard from the man who I love how the day goes all right you are watching the boy with a phone call you back in the truck and he just wants me to do the job so he can have some dude at the house get my clothes and wash it at his house. But first I clean from the kitchen dishes floor sweet vacuum on my hands and knees mopping working my way to the bathroom cleaning the floor clean the sink clean the toilet finding his hairs and putting them in my mouth and tell him I'm going to take a shower clean a shower leaving the door open and scrubbing the walls really good getting it clean like my master expects and he brings me a towel and I pull back the curtain just so you can clearly see a big bowl she's always looking at and couldn't resist finally touching brushing up against it while reaching underneath the sink to get me more soap and since he did that I figured I'll let him see what it really looks like and prepare myself for this moment making sure I was in my direct so you can get a very good idea of it is very fucking big but I know he wants and I can handle it I don't want him to handle it. So that from there downstairs cleaning the bathroom working my way out on my hands and knees into the living room while he sits on the couch and I'm just sitting there on my knees getting glance at home sitting there in his underwear shirtless tell me what to do and I do what he tells me picking his feet up putting them on the table for him so I can vacuum underneath his feet as I clean there he wants me to start on his bedroom and then come in there and say the washing machine is in here and he opens it up and I can see his underwear on the ground and I'm just like these are nice so takes a minute and I'm picking up stuff moving it around making room to walk through and he notices that I know this is underwear and then I kind of grab them while he's turned around and I pick it up and put it in my back and he's looking around when he turns around and I can see that he's noticing his underwear it's missing so I kind of walk around a little bit move stuff and then just drop them off and he can see that I have moved down so he leaves to go and do something and I grab them put them up to my nose and smell them rubbing myself and then I put it in my pants and my crotch and he comes back in and I feel guilty and I see him looking like very quiet but he knows is underwear my boss is underwear and he shows me how to start the washing machine and while he's doing that I pull the underwear out my pants and drop them behind me can I kick them to the side and then he looks down he can see them and he knows at this boy has been playing with the bosses underwears so I wash my clothes and I wait we go outside and sit then he has me clean the porch clean up his dog poop outside after working all day and paying me very little money he's the big fat hairy New York Italian boss with the authentic New York accent that voice to just always gets me excited and motivated no matter what he says I don't tell him no even though I want to go home I'm tired of working everyday and being his maid cleaning out his truck cleaning anything because he doesn't clean Frankie key Frankie t what's his name they gave me and I never asked any questions cuz he was just so damn sexy for an old dude Italian see the hair coming out of his chest hair all over his arms his big fat fingers big nose clean shave and short haircut jewelry shirt and buttoned just enough to see that furry patch exposed and shorts I can see his legs and all the hair looking at his crotch all the time can never make out a definite bulge but he is definitely checking me out from the moment he pulled up next to me and asked me what I was doing do I want to work and being out of work digging through trash cans and just right place at the right time for him to pull up next to me it is green BMW and I'm talking to him tell him yeah he's telling me what kind of work it is.

[msmercury84]

"I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm

South Philadelphia, New Year's Eve, 1945"

From "I Double Dare You-A Rendezvous With Destiny."

"Off with my overcoat, off with my gloves. Who needs an overcoat, I'm burning with love. My heart's on fire and the flame grows higher. So I can weather the storm. What do I care how much it may storm? I've got my love to keep me warm."I

Author's Note: Some sections are for readers over 18 years of age. In other words, smut warning. The expression "And how!" was popular with Bill Guarnere's generation. He used the expression in the book he wrote with Babe Heffron and I heard my grandparents use the expression, too. The depiction of Bill is based upon the actor's portrayal in the movie.*

A snowstorm was underway in South Philadelphia on New Year's Eve. Blowing and drifting snow made going out undesirable for the Guarneres and no one planned to visit them due to the weather. Since the storm was predicted in the newspaper and on the radio earlier in the week, Leigh ensured that she had everything she needed for a nice supper. She also made sure that the dress Bill gave her for Christmas was cleaned, pressed and ready to wear.

When Leigh returned home from work, it was much later in the afternoon. The snow caused the city buses to run late. She started to prepare supper and put a bottle of champagne in a bucket filled with ice. Employees of the CBS affiliate got champagne along with their Christmas bonuses.

She set about making a very elaborate antipasto while she cooked some steaks that came from her grandpa's farm. Leigh decided to make some spaghetti sauce with Italian sausage to go with some homemade pasta.

Earlier in the week, Bill mentioned that he would enjoy having a small serving of pasta "wit' that good gravy ya make" the next time they had steaks.

Leigh got a good recipe from Augusta for a marinade that was great for beef. The day before New Year's Eve, she combined garlic, red wine, some salt, a dash of pepper and a hint of oregano.

Prior to placing the steaks in the marinade, Leigh used a meat tenderizer on both sides of the steaks. Then, the steaks were placed in a baking dish. The marinade was poured over the meat. A lid was placed on the baking dish and the steaks marinated for 24 hours.

Since a snowstorm was going on, supper was later than usual. Traffic was crawling on all of the major thoroughfares. As the steaks simmered in a skillet, Leigh put on her new red dress, black stockings, a black lace garter belt, a black lace bra, black silk panties and her favorite black open toed high heeled pumps. She touched up her makeup, brushed her hair and headed back to the kitchen.

Leigh turned on the radio to have music playing while she finished the special supper. She donned an apron made of material with tiny red roses. Protecting her favorite dress was top priority.

A good bottle of red wine was open to allow it to 'breathe' before she put it into a decanter. Leigh used her best china plus the crystal wine glasses from the Andrews Sisters. The champagne flutes from the famed trio would be used for a midnight toast to the new year.

When Bill got home from work, he embraced and kissed Leigh after hanging up his snow covered coat on a coat tree in the kitchen and putting his gloves on the coat tree to dry.

"Baby, I love that new dress (he pronounced the word as 'dat'). You look like ten million bucks. Good thing we're stayin' in tonight. The snow is really comin' down an' the wind is ice cold. It kinda reminds me o' the Christmas Eve snowstorm in Aldebourne.

"Thanks, Honey." She winked, adding, "You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"What's goin' on, Sweetheart? Sounds like you're up to somethin'."

"You'll see, be patient. I'll make it worth the waiting."

Guarnere went  upstairs to put on a clean dress shirt after shaving. The atmosphere in the house was cozy, with the Christmas decorations, a fire in the living room fireplace and music on the radio.

Leigh set the table and lit the candles in cut glass candle holders. Bill helped her get supper served. He pulled out the chair for her to be seated at the dining room table. Leigh thanked him. Then, he sat down and asked the blessing.

After they finished their supper, Bill told her,

"Baby, that was one hell of a good meal. Ya went all out wit' the fancy dishes an' wine glasses. Everythin' was perfect. We couldn't get food this good from the best restaurants uptown." Leigh was pleased that he enjoyed supper.

"Thanks, Bill. Let me get the dishes and then we can get ready to celebrate the new year."

"Nothin' doin', Leigh. I'm helpin' wit the dishes. How 'bout I wash an' you dry? That way, your dress won't get ruined.

"That sounds like a good idea, Honey.  A sweet, sexy man bought that dress for me." Bill grinned,

"I've gotta admit that guy has excellent taste in buyin' broads' clothes." Leigh playfully raised her eyebrows,

"Oh, so now I'm a broad, not your baby or your sweetheart?" She went into the kitchen to get her apron. Guarnere followed Leigh and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, gently pulling her close to him.

"Ya little devil. You know you'll always be my baby an' my sweetheart. I'm gonna tell ya what ya tell me sometimes, you're a sexy smart ass. Speakin' of a sexy ass, that dress shows it off to perfection." Leigh giggled,

"Thank you, kind sir. Flattery will get you everywhere with me." Bill let go of her and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Leigh put on her apron.

"That's good to know. We'd better get to work before we get up to somethin'. I'll bring in the dishes an'  I promise to be real careful wit' 'em."

After Bill brought in the plates, silverware and wine glasses, Leigh put the leftover antipasto into a container that went into the refrigerator. While they cleaned and dried the dishes, Bill and Leigh talked about the way they had spent the past New Year's Eves since they got together. After the last dish was dried and put away, Leigh removed her apron and placed it on the kitchen counter. She embraced Bill,

"This year is very special. Not only because it's our first New Year's Eve as man and wife. It's extra special because, thank God, you survived." Guarnere tenderly kissed her.

"The man upstairs done most o' the work keepin' me alive, but you helped by cookin' for me an' bein' there for me. I owe you a hell of a lot, Baby."

"Thanks, Honey. You don't owe me anything. Getting married more than made up for everything. I was hoping to be your wife for a long time." Leigh had a smirk very similar to Bill's smirk when she added, "All you owe me is a good time later tonight."

"Oh, you can count on me givin' ya an extra good time later tonight, Sweetheart. Ol' Guarnere loves to satisfy a certain lady." Leigh got on her tip toes and playfully kissed the tip of his nose,

"And how! Remember when Perconte said he "really enjoyed Christmas Eve with the Guarneres," I was daydreaming about being your wife and having dinner guests over to visit us as I looked out the window at the snow coming down in Aldebourne." 

"I asked ya what ya thought of Perconte sayin' that 'cause I wanted to know how ya felt about gettin' married someday. I was a happy man when I knew ya liked the sound o' what he said.

Do ya suppose they'll still broadcast the Guy Lombardo show on the radio tonight? We could have some nice music for our party here at home."

"Yes, Honey, it's scheduled for tonight. I saw the show on our schedule at work. New York City wasn't supposed to have as much snow as we have. The show should be starting in about ten minutes."

"I'll go ahead an' get the CBS channel on the radio so we don't miss anythin'." Bill went to the radio and got it on the desired station. 

"I have the champagne chilling, do you want me to bring it in?"

"Not yet, Baby. Let's wait 'til it's closer to midnight so we can toast the new year. I really enjoyed New Year's Eve in Aldebourne when ya played the piano an' sang. Too bad there's no piano here, I'd love to hear ya playin' an' singin'". Leigh sat on the couch with Bill. He got a cigarette out of a pack on the table, lit it and settled back to cuddle with Leigh and listen to the radio.

"I'd love to have a piano, but they're so expensive. Truth be told, I miss playing the piano."  Guarnere put his right arm around her shoulder and held the cigarette in his left hand so Leigh wouldn't accidentally get burned.

"Maybe someday I can buy a piano for ya."

"That would be wonderful." They listened to the live broadcast, enjoying the music. A half hour later, the band began to play "Moonlight Serenade." Bill stood up and stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Would ya like to dance, Sweetheart?" 

"Yes." Guarnere took Leigh's hand and they walked to the middle of the living room floor. Bill pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as Leigh wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed to the music, looking into each other's eyes. 

"This reminds me of a very special night at Ft. Benning and our wedding reception."

"I guess this is our song. You're lookin' as beautiful as ya did both times we danced to this an' I'm still crazy in love wit' ya."

"I'm  still crazy in love with you, too, Handsome." Bill gave Leigh a tender kiss. After the kiss ended, she added, "Our first New Year's Eve was when you gave me my angel necklace."

"You must love it 'cause you're always wearin' it."

"I adore it." The song ended and they sat on the couch.

"I'm still wearin' the St. Michael medal, even though the war is over. I think it helped save my life. Baby, ya don't know this, but I was standin' outside the door to Teresa's bedroom.

I wanted to know if ya really liked the necklace. I don't think it's right to eavesdrop, but it paid off. I went to bed wit' a big smile on my face when I heard ya tell Teresa that you were crazy 'bout me."

They continued to listen to the radio and talk. At 11:45, Bill got up, went into the kitchen and got the bucket containing the chilled champagne from the refrigerator.

Next, he carefully put the crystal champagne flutes on a small platter and carried the platter into the living room. 

"How 'bout a drink, Baby?" 

"I'll have a glass or two, but that's all. I want to enjoy and remember what we do tonight."

"No heavy drinkin' for me, either, 'cause I wanna make love to you." He removed the foil from the top of the

champagne bottle and popped the cork. Bill poured some champagne into both flutes. He raised his glass,

"To my sweet, sexy angel.  Seems like ya understood me from the day we met. You're a blessin', Baby. I'm lookin' forward to what ya got planned." Leigh gently touched her glass to Bill's,

"To the handsome love of my life, you're a blessing, too. I plan to make you very hot and hard." Guarnere winked at her,

"That's my sassy angel." They sipped the champagne.

"It ain't bad. Matter o' fact I like this fancy soda pop." Leigh grinned at Bill's comment.

"It is pretty good. The champagne you got the night you proposed was the best I'd ever had."

"That guy at the front desk (the concierge) really knew his stuff." Soon, the radio featured the voices of party goers along with Guy Lombardo, counting down the seconds until the new year.

While the band played the traditional "Auld Lang Syne", Bill pulled Leigh close to him and gave her a gentle kiss at the stroke of midnight. The kiss quickly deepened and became passionate. When the kiss ended, Bill gently cupped Leigh's face in his hands.

"Happy New Year, Baby. I love you."

"I love you, too, Honey. Happy New Year. They shared another kiss and finished drinking the champagne in their glasses. Leigh got up from the couch.

"As they say in the movies, I'm going to slip into something more comfortable." She had a saucy grin as she added, "Don't go anywhere or start without me, you handsome dream boat." Guarnere had a wicked grin.

"Oh, I ain't goin' nowhere, Sweetheart. I'll wait right here for ya." Leigh went upstairs to the bathroom. She put in her diaphragm, washed her hands and reapplied her red lipstick.

Then she lightly powdered her face, touched up her minimal blush and mascara. She left the bathroom and went into their bedroom where she carefully hung up her dress. Then, Leigh got the red silk bra and tap panties set Bill bought her for Christmas out of its box in her dresser drawer. She got the matching red silk kimono from Julia from her side of the closet.

Before removing her panties and bra, Leigh opened her jewelry box on top of her dressing table and got out the red rose made of ribbon that graced the top of her birthday gift when she was living in  Aldebourne.Leigh got some bobby pins and carefully pinned the rose in her hair, placing it above her left ear. Satisfied with her efforts to secure the rose, she removed her bra, panties and slip, placing the items into the clothes hamper by the chest of drawers.

She put on the bra and tap panties. The panties covered her garter belt and her black silk stockings remained on. Next, she took off her black pumps and took them to the closet, placing

them in the shoebox in which they came.Leigh got out a shoebox containing red pumps she bought at a clearance sale in a department store. The pumps, with stiletto heels, were a perfect match for her lingerie.

She left the bedroom and stood at the head of the stairs. 

"Baby, are you ready to have a good time?" Bill had a big smile on his face as he watched her walk down the stairs. Leigh paused at the foot of the stairs and untied the kimono. She turned around and slowly exposed her shoulders and her back before she let the robe drop to the floor.

Knowing that Bill would enjoy the view, she bent over to pick up the robe. Her tap panties went up slightly in the back to show a small area of her behind. Guarnere once again had a wicked grin on his face. She draped the robe over one arm and walked toward him. 

"Do you see anything you like, big boy?"

"Oh, hell, yes! Baby, ya look like the hottest goddamn pinup girl in the world! That outfit an' those shoes are really doin' somethin' to me." He stood up and walked over to where Leigh stood. Bill gently pulled her close to him,

"You're beautiful, Sweetheart. Absolutely perfect an' you look as sexy as ya did in Paris." 

"Thanks, Honey." Bill gently nipped at one of Leigh's ear lobes before kissing her neck. He delighted in her slightly shivering when his lips gently sucked the skin on her neck. Guarnere whispered into her ear,

"Does my angel like that?"

"Oh, yes! I love it." His hands moved down to cup her ass.

"Baby, your body was made to drive a man crazy. It should be against the law for ya to wear clothes. 'course I don't want anybody else seein' ya naked. I wish you'd go around the house just wearin' what the man upstairs gave ya."

They exchanged slow, sensual kisses. Leigh eagerly allowed Bill's tongue to enter her mouth. She sucked on the tip of it, provoking a soft groan from him. Leigh felt his hard cock pressing against her. She broke the kiss for a moment, stepping back to allow enough room for her hand to surround and gently squeeze his cock. Guarnere made a hissing sound through clenched teeth. She massaged him through the fabric of his trousers.

"Oh, Baby, that feels so damn good." Leigh unbuttoned his dress shirt, licking, kissing and sucking the skin on his neck and chest. Bill moved his hand inside the tap panties to cup her bare ass. He moved one hand to the front of the tap panties.

Guarnere smiled as he felt the obvious sign of her arousal. Leigh gasped as his fingers rubbed her clit. A few minutes later, she slightly shuddered as she came. Bill picked her up,

"How 'bout we take this to the bedroom?"

"We can't get there fast enough." Guarnere quickly carried her upstairs to their bedroom. He gently placed her on the bed as he turned on the light and walked over to pull down the shades.Bill removed his shirt and let it fall to the floor. He sat on a corner of their bed to take off his shoes and socks. Then, he removed his trousers and boxer shorts, letting them join his shirt on the floor. He removed his artificial leg and sat up in the bed.

Leigh grinned and took off her red stiletto heeled shoes. She started to remove her bra, but Bill told her,

"Baby, leave it on, just for a little bit. Same wit' the panties, too. I got an idea. One time in Aldebourne, ya made love to me an' said it was all for me. I wanna do the same for you. Don't get me wrong, I still wanna make love wit' ya. 

How 'bout sittin' in front of me on the bed?" She got on the bed and did as Bill asked. He pulled her as close to him as possible and wrapped his arms around her.

"Just relax in my arms, Sweetheart, an' let me take care o' you." He kissed Leigh's neck, knowing how much she loved it. Bill caressed her shoulders and allowed his hands to roam lower.

"Baby, you have the most beautiful breasts." Leigh thanked him for his compliment.

"That isn't exactly what you wanted to say, is it, Honey?" Guarnere grinned, knowing that she would be aroused by him saying something off color.

"Ya little devil. You know how I think. I've always loved your tits. They're so goddamn gorgeous." Bill nibbled her ear, noticing that she slightly trembled with passion. He added, "Christ, Leigh, you've got it in spades! You have a sweet, sexy ass an' you know I love your beautiful pussy." He paused to once again suck on the soft skin at the junction of her neck and right shoulder. Bill loved hearing the sounds of passion Leigh made.

Guarnere slowly pushed her bra straps down, uncovering her breasts. He told her, speaking in a soft, low voice,

"I'm glad I bought this set for ya. Sweetheart, red silk looks so good on you. Now, how 'bout I take off this bra so I can give those beautiful tits some attention?" 

"I'm more than ready." Bill unhooked her bra and carefully put it on the small table by his side of the bed. He caressed her breasts with both hands as she leaned back against his chest. Then, he gently rubbed her erect nipples with his fingertips. Leigh started to moan softly.

"Your body was made for makin' love." He began to tug on her nipples. Leigh's breathing quickened. Bill kept on tugging on her nipples, knowing she could come from this stimulation. Soon, she slightly trembled in his arms. Guarnere was pleased that he made her come again. He moved his hands slowly down her body, all the while whispering in her ear,

"Such a beautiful baby. You're a fuckin' goddess. I wish I could take pictures of ya completely naked." Leigh trembled again, the idea of posing for Bill was making her even more aroused. He slid the tap panties down her hips. Leigh briefly got out of bed to removed the panties, the garter belt and her stockings. She eagerly got back on the bed and sat facing away from Bill, leaning against him. 

Guarnere wrapped his arms around her. He had picked up on the fact that his words inflamed her desire. His breath was hot in her ear as he whispered,

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya, Sweetheart? Posin' just for me." She answered in a breathy voice,

"Oh, yes!" 

"I'd start out askin' ya to hold those perfect tits in your hands. It would make ya hotter than hell if I asked ya to play with those sweet nipples, wouldn't it?"

"Mmmm...yes, it would." 

"I'd want ya to spread your legs an' let me get a nice close up picture o'  that beautiful pussy. You would already be kinda wet, wouldn't ya?" Bill was enjoying the effect his words had on Leigh. She was trembling a little more and her breathing was starting to speed up.

"Yes, Baby, my pussy would be very hot and wet." Guarnere groaned, his cock was rock hard, but he was determined to give Leigh as much pleasure as possible. He continued to whisper in her ear,

"Hearin' you say that is hot as hell. I'd ask ya to touch yourself."

"Oh, God! I'd do it for you, Baby." Bill grinned.

"Then, I'd move close enough to taste ya..." Leigh gasped, imagining the feel of his lips on her sex. Guarnere began to caress the soft curls between her legs. 

"My angel's enjoyin' this, ain't no doubt about it. You're so wet, Baby." He stroked a few fingers up and down the open lips of her sex.

"Oh, Bill!' 

Then, he began to gently rub her clit.

"Your body was made for fuckin', too, an' you're so good at fuckin'!"

Leigh was almost panting due to his words and the way his finger stimulated her clit. She moved against him, feeling his hard cock pressing into the cleft of her ass.

Bill rubbed her clit a little faster. Leigh couldn't speak, she just moaned louder. Soon, her hips jerked up involuntarily as another orgasm washed over her. Guarnere continued to hold her and he kissed her neck as she came. When she had recovered, he asked,

"What way does my baby wanna make love? Do ya want me to love ya wit' my tongue and lips?" Leigh got on her knees, facing him,

"Bill, you know I love that, but right now, I need that hard cock inside me!" She surprised him by straddling him and quickly lowering herself onto his cock. He held her hips as she rode him hard and fast. Bill loved her breasts bouncing in front of him and he managed to wrap his lips around one nipple to suck it. 

This made her go faster. Guarnere knew he couldn't last very long this way, but he wasn't about to tell Leigh to slow down or stop. All he could do was thrust up into her. His groaning got louder.

"Oh, fuck, yes! So good, Baby!"

Leigh felt a tremendous orgasm building. She called out his name, not giving a damn if the neighbors heard her. When he felt her sex contracting around him, it pushed Bill over the edge.

"Goddamn!"  They held each other as they came. After they got their breathing rates back to normal,  Bill held onto her and gently turned on his side, letting her onto the bed.

Guarnere withdrew from her and then pulled the sheet up to cover them. He held her close, stroking her back as Leigh wrapped her arms around him. 

"Oh, Honey, that was wild and wonderful."

"You're amazin', Sweetheart." He gently kissed her. 

"You're pretty amazin', too, Bill. That was heavenly, although we didn't behave like angels." Guarnere chuckled,

"You're so damn good when you're not actin' like an angel. Let me get the rest o' the covers pulled up so we don't get too cold. Once Bill covered himself and Leigh with the sheet and a blanket, he lay beside her. Leigh put her head on his chest and Guarnere wrapped his arms around her. 

They were too exhausted to think of turning off the light or bathing. Before sleep claimed them, Leigh made Bill laugh and kiss her when she said,

"Baby, we definitely started the new year off with a bang."

[practicalzen]

Why Am I Writing This Stuff

Since I have the audacity and hubris to suggest that I might know something worth sharing, I want to explain a few things about why I am here, how I choose what I say and how I choose to say it.

I have never been one to document my life. I don’t have any picture albums, diaries, or archives of past work. At one point in my life, I wrote a lot of poetry. For a while, I saved it. But as time went on, I simply misplaced the binders and eventually lost it. That was not a serious problem for me. By the time I realized that I couldn’t find any of what I had written, I had moved on (in a variety of ways). However, because of this carelessness with my past and my lack of attention to documentation, when I try to communicate what I know, who I am, or where I have been, I have to rely almost completely on memory.

I can guarantee you that my memory is 100% run-of-the-mill. I am subject to dropouts, distortions, and complete inaccuracies.

I am still close friends with my first wife and we often talk about our time together 40 years ago. I am surprised how differently we remember things. Sometimes she insists that I am completely wrong about the sequence, content, or even reality of past events. Sometimes, I am surprised by how wrong she gets things. And, sometimes, neither of us has any idea who the hell has things right or wrong.

On top of that, this ‘Spiritual/Buddhist/Meditative/Life’ journey is rife with false narratives, delusions, hallucinations, great insights, joy, depression, guilt, remorse, fear, etc., etc. Just when you think you have it all nailed down and neatly packaged for nutritious, simple ingestion . . . you find that your perspective on everything has changed.

LET ME GIVE YOU AN EXAMPLE

One of the few great addictions left in my life is coffee. Not simply coffee, but rich, dark roast, perfectly brewed cappuccino. I start every working day with it and am constantly looking for ways of improving my ‘coffee’ experience. To that end, a few years ago, I purchased a magnificent, Italian built ‘Rube Goldberg’ monstrosity of a cappuccino machine. It has levers, and handles, and spouts, and double boilers, and a whole variety of gauges - all to ensure that I am able to concoct the ‘Perfect’ brew.

Since my wife and I fully share my obsession, and always share the dark, chocolaty fruits of my labor, the portafilter on our machine is a two cup unit with a stainless steel removable filter. Unfortunately, from the day we got it, the flow to the two shot glasses below the filter was uneven. When the shot glass on the right side of the machine was full, the left hand glass was only about 2/3 full.

Everything else the machine did was amazing. The steamer worked flawlessly and I was soon able to produce wonderful, peaked, shaving cream rich foam. The quality of my pulls was beyond reproach, each taking exactly 30 seconds and perfectly balanced – not bitter, yet, a satisfying expression of the full potential of the rich dark roast bean that I was currently using. There was nothing about the machine that I could fault except the uneven flow through the portafilter.

Initially, because the machine was working flawlessly, I ignored the problem of the uneven ‘draw/flow’. When the right side shot glass was full, I removed it and slid the left side shot glass under both spigots. When it was full I poured the two shots into the cappuccino cups and got on with my life.

Unfortunately, as I become more intimately involved with the process I realized that the last 3rd of the left side cup was watered down compared to the smooth continuous draw on the right side. I decided that I was not going to put up with this ‘malfunction’ and that I was going to figure out how to solve it.

I purchased a small pipe brush and scoured the two feeds on the portafilter. As well, I removed the filter basket and carefully insured that none of the filter holes were blocked. When I was done, the thing worked . . . for a couple of days. Then the problem returned.

As I became more obsessed with the repair, I also became more aware that it was intermittent. Sometimes, for a week or two, it manifested every time I made coffee, and then, suddenly, it would draw perfectly and the two shot glasses would be filled evenly with no discrepancies. Then, suddenly, the stupid machine would fill the shot glasses unevenly again. I examined, poked, prodded, disassembled, descaled, detoxified, reassembled, reviewed and, finally replaced everything I could imagine might be involved in the problem.

Finally, I bought a new expensive, after-market, portafilter. Clearly the old one was flawed!

This whole process had gone on for more than a year and had become a real source of pain and frustration. Once I broke down and replaced the stock portafilter with the super, high quality, custom manufactured, life-time-guaranteed portafilter, I knew that finally everything was under control. With a bit of a twitch when I thought of the replacement cost, I unpacked the new portafilter, filled it with perfectly ground, rich, dark roast coffee, and prepared to draw two perfect cappuccinos.

MY GOD! As I stood there watching, I got two horribly uneven shots of coffee.

Over the next few weeks, I alternated between the two portafilters and ran through all the fixes I had tried previously. Nothing helped! Then, one day, after having given up and resigned myself to the fact that my coffee machine was a ‘lemon’, I had an epiphany!

As I was tamping the coffee into the portafilter, I noticed that I was favoring my left side. To get a good purchase and to ensure that I exerted proper pressure to the tamper as I compressed the coffee, I was leaning, significantly, to the left. I looked closely at the tamped coffee and there was a discernible difference in the height of the coffee on the two sides of the portafilter. It was higher on the right which clearly indicated that the left side was more tightly packed than the right side. I pulled the shots and, sure enough, the left side shot glass was less full that the one on the right.

I refilled the portafilter with coffee and tamped it down again. This time I concentrated on tamping the coffee evenly. Of course, I got two perfect, even fills in the two shot glasses.

There was ‘never’ anything wrong with the machine . . . there was something wrong with the operator!

This may seem like a trivial issue, but this kind of dysfunctional mental process can distort everything we do. We distort reality in terms of our likes and dislikes, our past experiences, our expectations, our lack of information and proper observation, what we see on television, what we hear from friends, and what we spin out of our own butts. As a result of the distortions and delusions foisted on us by our own fictional narratives and those passed to us from external sources: entertainment and information media, social, and political processes, and educational, philosophical, and religious systems (to name a few), we have a lot to think about and evaluate.

On top of all of that, one of the least effective means of measuring, evaluating and communicating truth (the one I am trying to use here) is language.

There is an old brain teaser, “If a tree falls in the forest and no-one is there to hear it, is there a sound made by the falling tree?” The problem is not one of assessing the ‘true nature of sound.’ It is really a question of how we define what constitutes sound. Once we come to an agreement regarding our use of the language, the apparent issue with the nature of external phenomena disappears.

Imprecise language, biased interpretation of language, and a misplaced trust in the accuracy of language can be seen as a major cause in a great many of our problems as human beings.

That fundamental problem with communicating using words, combined with the mental issues inherit in being an 82 year old, ‘historically irresponsible’ person, leads me to consider this site and my writing here as a kind of docudrama/Cliff’s Notes.

In many cases, I am not going to use real names, times or places. I will attempt to move this narrative forward as accurately as possible, but realize that I might just be another ‘blind man’ holding an unidentifiable appendage attached to Schrödinger's Elephant.

[koh-i-noorbeautyusa]

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