#cafe burlesque

[guopei]

one thing about me im annoying

[stylized-corpse]

This is tonight. Went to this last year and it was a fun time. I don’t go to burlesque shows often but I’d like to go more than once a year.

[tox-tea]

Follytober Day 13: Vervale

[canonsinthehead]

so hows the night life in the villages? which is the best and worse? 😸😸

Glad you asked... there are few topics ni the answer ill go deeper in another post but i hope yall get the picture...

Naruto Headcanons - Ranking Nightlife in Different Villages (from best to worse)

1- Kumogakure (THE Party City)

Obviously Kumo takes the first place for its unmatched nightlife culture. It is alive at night and very welcoming of foreigners, some people make a whole trip to Kumo just to party.

There are sooooo many nightclubs of different types. Hip hop, Pop or Western etc. Kumo is known for being the only nation to have stripclubs. other countries, always claim to be more conservative in that area. it ties into the more liberal/accepting expression of sexuality (especially from women).

everything is intertwined when you look up the country's music history. Many famous artists strated in nightclubs.

The city lives at night, many sports clubs are operating during dark hours and inviting the night owls to join in. Along this, you can take all types of classes/courses taking place at night if clubbing is not your cup of tea.

Kumo is so diverse, there is a district/area or stores/businesses for all types of preferences, interests or way of life. Are you LGBT, plus size, disabled, a salary man, vegan, emo, a sneaker head or whatever it is, you will find a place for taste.

it has become a challenge some residents (and tourists), to make a 6PM to 6AM Challlenge. where it consist of staying awake and indulging in the nightlife until sunrise. it was popularized by an episode of Killer Bee's Showtime where they came up with the concept and has became a legit tourist attraction since theres so much to do

2- Konohagakure (6 to 9 Heaven)

In Konoha, a lot of people have a 9-5 schedule so big part of the village nightlife is centered around "after work" activities. When you go out on weekdays, you will mostly encounter employees trying to unwind after a long workday

regardless there are so many activities to do after the sunset. the most popular are karaoke, hot springs and street food stands.

Konoha's foundation being a mountain, there are many hidden spots hidden in its complex foundation. when look over it, you can observe spots of hundred of spotlights all over the city because small goups loves to meetup in various places and just chill together

the largest cinemas are located in Konoha. it one of the few places where you can go watch movies from other nations to the exceptions of Kiri for their heavy censorships laws and Suna for being in a different language.

Cabaret clubs are huge in Konoha.

you can find many 24/7 ramen shops and Internet Cafes

The comedy scene in Konoha is big. off course it doesnt match Kumo's but Konoha produced many well known comedians. All the "Comedy Open mic nights" are to die for.

Konoha scored high also for being a welcoming nation and embraces tourist/foreigners with open minds.

3- Iwagakure (Rock 'n' Roll)

if you are looking for a good music concert to attend. especially for rock and indie music.

it scored lower because many of those locations (to party) and the culture surrounding them are sometimes hard to find

mixed with the nightlife, Iwa has a strong adult entertainment industry. There are countless soaplands and burlesque show, again only if you can find them

(Honorable Mention) 3.5 - Modern Kirigakure (Work in Progress)

On the way to become like Konoha (along with their own sauce) but is not there yet

outside of the capital, they still operate like the previous system like the rest of the country of water.

4- Sunagakure (Organized Events)

The nightlife of Suna is more made of organized events where mass of people attent. The largest venues happen on Fridays since there are a lage diversity of shecdules among the population but everthing stops from Friday night to Sunday morning.

A typical night activity is enjoying tea, there are hundreds of tea stands across the country, sometimes even in the middle of nowhere for travelers during their long journey in the desert. they along serve flavourful whiskeys and tasty snacks. It is the #1 socializing spot.

The food is to die for. The culinary scene of Suna is unmatched, with all the ingredients natives to the regions it gives unique meal you cant find anywhere else. there are many restaurants of all types open until the early hours of the morning.

Live performing is a very prevelant part of Suna's nightlife,

A lot of night activities are meant to be enjoyed in large numbers especially among families since many of them are large.

the problem is that Suna is really weary of tourists/foreigners, so accessing certain areas, restaurants or pubs may be denied because they require invitations. That would limit your acess to tea houses and restaurants in the main city/touristic areas where the inflation is crazzzzyyyyyyy for outsiders. Also the language barrier doesnt help...

the best deal would be to be invited among someone's familiy and celebrate with them, it's just as good as going out

5- Old Kirigakure (Dangerous Territories ahead...)

It is advised for regular citizen (especiall women and children) to stay inside as soon as the sun sets. They say the freaks come out at night, all criminals and gang members come out after nightfall. they occupate various pubs and bars. The city is dual face because it is literraly re-birthed at night for a whole different aura to plague the city at night.

most illegal activities take place at night.

there are a lot of brothels operating under criminal leadership. along with illegal/dubious boxing matches and fight clubs where gambling happens.

Gambling is no joke, it is a serious widespread practice where you can witness (and participate with) players with dices on street corners.

At all time, territories are clearly separated, either by criminal affiliations, ethnicities or caste levels. cross it and will likely pay it with your life.

as a foreigner, if you fit the physical attributes of the local men, you could go unnoticed for some time but it adviced not to even try since you may be cooked when people ask for your paperwork to enter certain spaces. also even if you make and get "accepted", the wrong gesture, word could lead to a misunderstanding and escalate into violence

Kirigakure is male centered society. 90% of the people outside at night are male. many levels of society caters to them hence why a lot of adult males without criminal affialition have no problem going out at night to drink their souls away.

you can witness public intercourse

going on the previous point, there is a deep (but hidden) male LGBT culture running in Kiri. many of them are affiliated with various gangs or crimelords like Gato. Some would suggest that homosexuality is lowkey normalized among gangs (do the homie) but it will never be confirmed. So if you know where to look, are determined (crazy) enough, and looking for a hookup with a tattoed muscular dude with a questionable (dead) body count, then go ahead.

Ironically, the gigolo scene industry is as large as female adult entertainment/prostitution in Kiri. they are not going to tell you that most of them are gang members who fell from grace/punished for making mistakes or literal human trafficking.

6- Amegakure (DO NOT TRESSPASS)

RAVES. The rave culture is unmatched. If you are looking for hardcore parties with moshpits and loud eletronic music you are looking at the right place.

The night culture is really the bulk of what there is to do in Ame, its residents uses thoses parties and alcohol to escape for the reality of their daily lives.

Like everything in the country, it is so hard to acces and it doesnt like outsiders not even a little bit. most of them are not allowed to even enter the city's walls.

There you can find the HARDEST drugs in the entire world. Addictions is a real issue in Ame but when i mean hard i mean amnesia (you forget your life before you consumed it) type of hard

if you go there, you 10000% getting robbed.

thanks yall for your request, that was fun to do. hope the formatting is not too much.

shoutout to @getyourmindrightson, @oceanjenna! thanks for the support.

[headfullofpresley]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 3,8K

Series summary: Elvis has worked hard to become the successful adult movie director that he is today and all that hard work is paying off by how well the public reacts to his work and how much money is coming into his bank account, despite the fact that porn is still very much illegal. Working in the adult industry is not something you saw yourself doing despite coming from a place where it always has been out in the open, but you soon find yourself swept up and away by a certain American director and right into the heart of the porn industry. The only question that remains is... will you sink, or will you swim?

Chapter summary: Working on his newest and what he believes his biggest project yet, Elvis flies to Amsterdam to shoot most of it. Everything is going well until he's forced to fire his leading actress on the spot and there's a stop being put to his work. But as he wanders into a cafe for a much needed drink in the bustling city, faith seems to be on his side.

Warnings: porn director!Elvis, European!reader, set in the year 1970 (so some details may be a little off?), obvious mentions of sex/porn etc, mentions of prostitution, Elvis giving reader a lowkey foot rub in public (honestly, he's going to be into feet in this series bc i'm feral), mentions of soft drugs, alcohol consumption.

A/N: hi! this idea was born from an ai but mostly from The Deuce (definitely watch it!), where i took most inspiration from. i'm super excited about this series, and honestly it's giving me a lot of inspiration to write in general again! this is going to be a short series- i'm thinking around 5 parts, but we shall see, hm? no smut in this part, but obvi there will be in future parts, as well as some darker topics. hope y'all enjoy! ❤

masterlist | want to be added to the taglist? just ask!

Who ever said Hollywood was a jungle has obviously never set foot in New York City.

They’ve obviously never experienced what a real concrete jungle is like and they definitely don’t know that the Golden Age of Hollywood has seen its best days. Directors were feeling pressures from the outside – from the public that wanted something different, something more than those cringy movie kisses. The smaller movie theaters were starting to ID their customers because their movies weren’t so family friendly anymore. Establishments that specialized in peep shows were popping out of the ground like weeds. Burlesque clubs were turning into proper stripclubs and people would rather spend their money on naked girls dancing in their faces than on overpriced cocktails at supper clubs.

They didn’t know that the world was changing.

They didn’t know that even though adult entertainment was far from legal, it was one of the most produced and exported and imported products in the country.

They didn’t know. But Elvis Presley did.

Having made his start as a director ten years ago when he was in his early twenties and was nothing but a naive Southern boy from Memphis, he crawled and clawed his way through shitty jobs in New York. From parking cars, to serving drinks in sketchy bars to being a bodyguard at a massage parlor and driving around hookers to their appointments… He’s seen it all, and he’s done it all.

He worked hard to get where he currently was – being one of the most famous porn directors in New York. Everyone knew who he was and everyone respected him. Times Square was home to countless of peep shows, stripclubs and whatnot and you���ll bump into a prostitute every five steps. Elvis never used their services but he was friendly with them, greeting them as if he had known them forever. Which in some girls’ cases, was true.

Most of those girls were looking for a way out, wanting to get off the streets and into the safety of a movie studio, but Elvis has learned from a previous mistake where he hired a girl who had a pimp and the leech tried to get him to pay them more than the other actors. Since then, Elvis stuck to actors and actors only.

The director was doing good for himself, owning his own studio and brand under the name of “Presley Productions”, and living in a spacious apartment in the city, yet he still wanted more.

He wanted to make a movie so good, it would get international attention. He wanted it to be so good that theaters wouldn’t stop showing it and he wanted it to be so damn good that it would get him a shiny, gold award on his shelf.

And whenever Elvis had his mind set on something, he made sure to accomplish whatever it was that he wanted to accomplish.

It would only be a matter of time before Hollywood would get whiff of his work, and who he was, and for him to open up a second studio there. Elvis didn’t believe in “Hollywood first, the world later” though – he was going to knock everyone off their feet, from the housewives in California to the business men in Hong Kong, all at the same time.

 

The script he had written for his newest movie had been done for months now and all there was left to do was the casting. The process went fairly simple and easy – his main actress was Annette Haven and she was a gorgeous brown eyed brunette, but for some reason he couldn’t get used to her.

Granted, he wasn’t the one playing in the movie and her co-star seemed to have no issues with her, so perhaps he figured he was just being too picky because he was so passionate about this project. Annette was friendly during the first few weeks of filming but as they got to Amsterdam, the sex capital of the world, to shoot most of the movie, her behavior started to change.

She was cranky on set, pranced around like she was the Queen and was late for filming almost every single day. To put it mildly, she was getting on Elvis’s nerves and when she showed up high as a kite one afternoon, the director was done with this girl.

He never was a tiran on set and always made sure everyone was doing okay, but right now it was like a bomb exploded and everyone watched and were awkwardly rooted to their places as Elvis had a go at the main actress and fired her on the spot.

“Take the rest of the day off. We’ll figure things out tomorrow,” he announced to the other actors and the crew. He gave them a bitter smile before he turned around and walked out of the studio they rented, angry and annoyed at the fact he lost a full day of filming, his leading actress and money.

He needed a goddamn drink.

 

Amsterdam was a crowded, bustling city and in some ways, it was much like New York but it was different in so many ways too. People were a little more laid back here (and he figured the many coffee shops where one definitely was not drinking coffee but getting high at instead had something to do with that) and instead of running into a lady of the night on a street corner, they were placed behind windows in certain areas. The Red Light District, for example. It was crowded with tourists and while there was a long canal outstretched in the middle of the district, there were shops, bars, coffee shops and sexual tinted business lined up on the sides, drawing people’s attention left and right. The infamous windows were located in the alley ways, the red lights that were on indicating a girl was working at the time. While he was definitely no stranger to sex workers and what the normal citizen would call “wildness of it all”, it was like he had stepped into a different world, yet it felt a little bit like home too.

Spotting a typical Dutch brown cafe on a corner, he stepped inside and was welcomed by the loud rumbles of laughter of men shooting pool and sitting at the tables and the bar and the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. Nobody aside from the waitress even spared him a glance as he sat at a table near the window and the second he looked at the girl that came up to him to take his order, a smirk spread across his face. In the middle of August, it was only natural for the girl to be wearing a pair of shorts and he was glad this place didn’t set any strict dress codes for their employees, because Good Lord, those legs looked like they went on for days. He noticed the red heeled sandals she wore on her feet and her fresh pedicure on her toes, drawing him in even more. The way that black little apron was tied around her waist did things to him and as his eyes shamelessly moved further up and noticed the size of her breasts that were filling up the tight top she was wearing, he could only think two things – first, he needed to get his hands on those things. And second, she would be perfect for the movie he was shooting out here.

Annette Haven who?

“Hallo?!” You spoke again, waving your hand in front of the dark haired man that just sat down by the window when he didn’t respond to you the first time. Instead, he was shamelessly checking you out from head to toe and working in a bar in the Red Light District, you were used to it but it still got you a little annoyed at times. At least some men tried to hide it and most men actually spoke, with actual words. As he excused himself in English and scanned the crowd for a second, you realised he wasn’t Dutch and decided to cut him some slack.

Perhaps he really was a creep, but your boss wouldn’t be too happy if a customer walked out without being served.

Happened before, because while other waitresses accepted the bold and creepy men that came to drink almost every single day, your mother had always taught you to stand up for yourself and to not take any shit from anyone.

Besides, this was 1970. What did men expect? For you to drape yourself over their laps and beg them to take you? Absolutely not.

“A beer’s just fine, honey,”

You bit your tongue to ignore the pet name and flashed the American a smile, looking him in the eye. “Anything else? Something to eat maybe?”

Elvis grinned and shook his head, watching you walk away to get his drink. You were a very pretty girl with a very pretty body and he realised he was going to amp up his charm if he wanted to see what was underneath.

And he definitely wanted to see what was underneath.

 

“There you go,” you said as you came back over to his table and put his beer down in front of him. Before you could make your escape once more, Elvis spoke up.

“You know, your English is pretty good,”

At this, you almost scoffed as you stood up straight and looked at him with a hand on your hip. These Americans were always so full of themselves.

“Thanks. It’s only a language spoken in countries all over the world,” you smiled sarcastically and Elvis grinned in amusement as he leaned his arms on the edge of the table, quirking an eyebrow.

Feisty. He was intrigued.

“I been to Germany back in the day and believe me, they definitely didn’t sound as pretty as you,”

You raised your eyebrows a little at the odd compliment. Didn’t sound as pretty? That was the first time you ever heard something like that. This guy looked exactly what you imagined a pimp to look like – gold rings adorning his fingers, dressed up nicely in a velvet crushed jacket despite the heat outside – yet he used the word “pretty”, instead of something vulgar like most customers did when they’d try to flirt with you.

You knew you had probably judged him too quickly and although you were intrigued by him the same way he was by you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

“Let me tell you a secret,” you whispered as you leaned down and closer to him a little, looking straight into his eyes, which you noticed were very blue and very pretty. “You’re not in Germany anymore, sir,”

Elvis let out a laugh as you gave his shoulder a playful pat and raised his glass, a sly smirk settling on his features.

“You got that right, honey,”

As you walked away, he didn’t fail to notice the playful smile you threw his way as you looked over your shoulder.

 

Elvis wasn’t planning on spending half the day in this particular cafe, but for some reason, he was already on his third beer and he just couldn’t leave.

He could say it was because he needed to clear his mind and think of a solution to fix the problem about not having a lead actress anymore, but the little voice in his head told him he was looking right at that exact solution.

You.

He knew it would be risky – you were just a waitress and you probably had never set foot on a movie set in your entire life, let alone an adult movie set, but he couldn’t stop imagining you in front of the camera, in all kinds of positions.

As he watched you move around the place, serving customers, it was almost like he was watching a movie right now. The way you moved so effortlessly on those little heels, the way you avoided customers that were a little too handsy and the way you were laughing with local customers who you’d probably served many times before.

The sound of your laugh was like music to his ears and he wondered how you’d sound while you were being fucked with those gorgeous long legs dangling in the air. Just imagining you moaning in pleasure had a shiver run down his spine.

And while you had pretended you didn’t like Elvis at all and he was just another annoying American tourist, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing into his direction every so often and making your way to his table to ask if he needed anything else.

When you did just that after talking to some locals at the bar, he looked at you and smiled.

“Sit down,” he told you as he nodded to the empty seat across from him as he leaned back in his seat. “Doesn’t the old man give you a break?”

You chuckled softly as he nodded to an older looking, grumpy man in the corner behind the bar. Your boss. He barely did any of the work and just sipped on his beer, watching his waitresses work their asses off.

For a shitty pay, too.

“Hardly,” you admitted honestly with a soft chuckle, noticing that your boss wasn’t paying any attention to you so you sat down opposite the dark haired man that had his eye on you the entire time. “So, what brought you to Amsterdam?”

Elvis was pleasantly surprised as you asked him that. Not only would it give him the chance to keep you at his table longer, but now was also the moment where he would have to tell you what he did. And find out your reaction to it.

So, he just came clean right away. In one way, it was a good test to see how open-minded the Europeans really were.

And if you were a full blown, crazed feminist.

God… please don’t be a fullblown crazed feminist, he prayed mentally.

“I’m here to make a porno.”

A silence lingered between you two, but it only lasted for about three seconds. You nodded your head and chuckled in an amused but friendly manner.

“Are you an actor?”

Thank God.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head a little as he took a sip of his beer, licking his lips. “I’m the director of the movie,”

You leaned your arms on the table and sat on the edge of your seat, crossing your legs under the table as you swung your foot back and forth a little. Elvis looked at the way your breasts were pressed against your arms for a second before looking back at your face, an excited twinkle in his eyes.

“And why are you not directing your movie right now?” You wondered aloud, tilting your head a little.

“Well,” he let out a laugh as he tapped one of his rings against his glass for a second, looking at you. “My leading actress wasn’t as fit for the role as I thought.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as good as a director as you think you are,” you teased with a grin on your face.

At that, Elvis just looked at you with a raised eyebrow. He could tell you were pulling his tail, but perhaps far in the back of his mind… he wondered if that could be the truth. He decided not to let his insecurities get to him though, not right now, and when he felt your swaying foot hit his leg under the table, he reached a hand down and grabbed your ankle. You widened your eyes a little and stared at him as he gave you a cocky grin and removed your shoe, dropping the red heel to the floor before he put your foot in his lap.

You looked around nervously to see if your boss caught onto you slacking yet, but he was still busy with the locals at the bar. Elvis ran his hand down from your ankle to your foot and pressed his thumb against your sole, making you turn back to him and bite your tongue to hold back a small gasp.

While you certainly never let customers touch you, right now you weren’t trying to get away. Nor could you muster up a smart remark to throw at his head. You’d been on your feet all day, wearing those heels, and the little massage he suddenly decided to give you wasn’t entirely unwelcomed.

“I am a great director, sweetheart, trust me..” he grinned as he looked you in the eye, a kind but mischievous gleam in his blue orbs. This man definitely was bold and for the first time in your waitressing “career”, you were enjoying the attention of a customer. And a tourist, at that. “Some people just can’t resist the many coffee shops in the city,”

You chuckled, nodding your head as you tried to focus on the conversation and not his large hand rubbing your foot under the table.

“Ha! Bet she was A-American,” you mentally slapped yourself for the stutter (and the lame reply) but if he noticed it, he didn’t mention it. Instead he just grinned and caressed his short nails across the arch of your foot a little.

“Who said she was American?”

“Well, if she was Dutch, she could’ve.. resisted the tempting clouds of weed,” you countered back with a small, playful grin on your face.

He laughed as he cocked his eyebrow, his eyes staring intently into yours as he found your pressure point and pushed his thumb into it, making you nearly moan out loud right there in the middle of your work place.

You managed to save yourself with a small groan.

“Think you can do better?”

At this point, your face was flushed and he realised he was slowly breaking through that sarcastic façade of yours. Then again, he wasn’t exactly playing fair with the way he was shamelessly giving you a foot rub and while you had genuinely peaked his interest, he was a little desperate too.

He wanted to finish his movie and make sure it was good. It had to be perfect. And he didn’t want to get a professional actress now that he had laid eyes on you.

Porn wasn’t a strange concept to you despite never having been in a porno yourself. You lived in a city where sex was out in the open for everyone to see and consume and while porn was illegal here as much as it was in the States, it was tolerated. Perhaps it wasn’t such a strange idea for you to dip your toes into the world of adult entertainment.

“I know I can do better,” you said confidently, looking over at your boss who looked your way and you quickly pulled your foot out of Elvis’ grip, slipping it back into your heel. “Just tell me when and where,”

Elvis let out a hearty laugh as he widened his eyes at you a little. This had been easier than he expected – you were offering yourself for the job and while that was certainly surprising, he wasn’t complaining at all. You were perfect for this movie and the fact that you were inexperienced in the industry might even be better for the storyline.

After all, the lead girl was supposed to be a little naive and a whole lot of innocent.

You quickly urged him for a phone number and address when you noticed the sour face of your boss staring at you from behind the bar and Elvis quickly scribbled his contact information down on the back of a paper coaster as he realised he didn’t have any business cards on him at the moment. You grasped it from the table and shoved it in your pocket, getting up from your seat.

“Hold up,” he said after he paid for his drinks and you were about to walk off to the bar to get back to work. You felt him grabbing your wrist and you turned around, looking at him as your heartbeat sped up a little. “I didn’t get your name..”

“It’s Y/N,” You told him, gently pulling your arm out of his grip. You wouldn’t mind holding onto him a little longer but you felt your boss’ eyes burning in the back of your head.

“I’m Elvis. Elvis Presley.”

You nodded and flashed him a smile, tapping the back pocket of your shorts where you had put the coaster in. He grinned and nodded, slowly leaving the cafe, hoping you’d call him and go through with this.

A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to work in a shitty place like this.

 

You watched him go and the entire time your boss was giving you an earful about work ethics as you stood behind the bar, you barely heard the words coming out of his mouth. Quite frankly, you just weren’t paid enough to deal with this. You liked your co-workers but that’s all they were – co-workers. They didn’t pay your bills and neither did your shitty monthly pay that your boss gave you.

You wanted a change. No, you needed a change.

And maybe it was a naive and stupid thing to do, but for some reason, you had trusted that stupid American tourist.

Maybe he wasn’t even a director at all, but the longer your boss went on and on about your behavior, you decided it was worth the risk.

“You know what,” you interrupted him loudly, pulling your apron off and throwing it at his face. “I quit!”

Your boss threw a string of profanities to your head as you opened the cash register and grasped the amount of money he still owed you. He was too slow, and too fat, to stop you and before he could get to you, you were already halfway out the door. Though ofcourse, you didn’t leave without theatrically flipping him off.

 

You ran down the street, squirming your way through the crowd, and into a phone booth. Closing the door behind you, you fished the coaster out of your pocket and rang the number. You were connected to Elvis’ hotel and then put through to his room after several minutes. As soon as you heard his voice on the other side of the line, you inhaled a sharp breath of air and clenched the phone against your ear.

How bad could the porn industry really be?

The fact that you were a virgin didn’t strike you as a problem. Nobody had to know, did they? You were sure you’d be able to mask it.

Even from the director.

You stared at the people walking by the phone booth and leaned against the glass wall, your next words rolling off your tongue determinedly.

“When do I start?”

taglist: @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates

[milkygothgf]

How can be a cosplay convention be lewd? What happens at them?

18+ convention with kink panels, shibari, body painting, maid cafes, burlesque show, lots of lewd vendors and artists, and more sexually themed cosplays! Plus the after parties lol. Like I know of one panel that's on impact play where they will literally be spanking someone in front of us lol. Basically just kink+nerdy

[hbbethany]

Also after going to see Burlesque yesterday, me and my wife went into a little cafe in Manchester and got called "Ladies" 😁😁

[justforbooks]

Michel Guérard

French chef who found fame with his bestelling book La Grande Cuisine Minceur, which advocated lighter dishes

The French chef Michel Guérard, who has died aged 91, was to many British diners, readers and cooks the chief exponent of nouvelle cuisine. This way of cooking gained wide acceptance in the 1970s. It broke away from classical culinary tropes in search of greater lightness, directness and invention.

Guérard was but one of a group of transformational chefs in the nouvelle cuisine movement, including Paul Bocuse, the brothers Troisgros, and his early mentor Jean Delaveyne of the Camélia restaurant in Bougival. However, it was his book La Grande Cuisine Minceur, published in 1976, that first delivered his cookery to tables worldwide (more than a million copies sold, in 13 languages) even though the recipes the book contained were in fact calibrated for customers on a diet.

The consequence was that cuisine minceur soon became confused in British eyes with nouvelle cuisine itself, which was thereafter tainted with a reputation of minuscule portions, fancy reductions and purées, and pictures on a plate.

Although his early career boasted many successes, Guérard’s name will always be joined to that of Eugénie-les-Bains, the health spa in south-western France where he began cooking in 1974, after his marriage to Christine Barthélémy, to whose family the resort belonged. It was there that he developed a range of dishes suitable for the recovery of good health; and where he established a restaurant of immeasurable class, serving imaginative food of the highest quality, around which grew up a positive village of collateral ventures including a bistro, cafes, cooking schools and hotels.

He followed up La Cuisine Minceur with the less body-conscious La Cuisine Gourmande in 1978. Enthusiasts would assert this his crowning glory, and diners who have enjoyed multiple versions of marquise au chocolat, chicken with vinegar, or countless forms of puff-pastry feuilletés should doff their caps to their original inspiration.

His books made Guérard an international celebrity before most of the general public had heard of his equally capable colleagues in France. In 1976 he featured on the front cover of Time magazine, under the headline “Hold the Butter”. In the same year, he forged an alliance with Nestlé and launched a range of frozen foods under the Findus trademark, again in anticipation of a universal trend.

Guérard was born in Vétheuil, a village to the west of Paris once home to the impressionist painter Claude Monet. Michel was the younger son of Maurice, a butcher-grazier, and Georgine, children themselves of the village butcher and grocer. When he was still an infant, the family moved to Pavilly, north of Rouen, then later to the town of Mantes-la-Jolie on the Seine. Educated at the Lycée Corneille in Rouen, when he left school at 16 he went as apprentice to the pâtissier-caterer Kléber Alix in Mantes. There is no better training for a chef than patisserie, which imparts routine, precision and delicacy. He passed his trade examination at the top of the class, just as he would achieve the prestigious award of Meilleur Ouvrier de France en Pâtisserie in 1958 as the youngest candidate that year.

Apprenticeship over, and after more classic French cooking at a former coaching inn not far from Dieppe, Guérard spent his military service in the navy at Cherbourg. He was now fit for an assault on Paris, working first at the Hôtel Meurice and then, as pâtissier, at the Hôtel de Crillon, before moving to the Paris Lido, a barnstorming mixture of burlesque and fine dining on the Champs-Élysées.

Guérard’s parents were concerned that he was not yet set up in an owner-occupied business in the family tradition. In 1965, his response was to buy from the receiver in bankruptcy a run-down bistro, Le Pot-au-Feu, in the industrial Paris suburb of Asnières. It was all he could afford. On the opposite corner was a rivet factory, the place seated only 28 people and the kitchen was tiny.

His transformation of a hang-out for locals into a destination for the capital’s high-living inhabitants was rapid, the client list soon stellar, bookings necessary months in advance. The on-trend French guide Gault-Millau described Le Pot-au-Feu as “the best suburban bistro in the world”. It gained a Michelin star in 1967 and two stars in 1969, despite the humble surroundings.

But a life of constant activity – cooking at his own restaurant, consulting on menus at the fashionable Régine’s nightclub, sleeping no more than three hours a night – was upended by two events: meeting Christine in 1972 and the compulsory purchase of his Pot-au-Feu to accommodate a slip-road.

Christine was the daughter of Adrien Barthélémy, the postwar creator of a chain of health resorts who had placed her in charge of Eugénie-les-Bains, in an unfrequented corner of France. Her meeting Guérard, his loss of premises, their failure to find a substitute in Paris, was a series of happy coincidences that led to his assuming the direction of the kitchens at Eugénie in 1974.

He never looked back, concentrating for the rest of his career on developing this resource. Its closure for business during the winter months allowed him some freedom for other ventures, be they his books, his opening a shop opposite Fauchon in Paris or at Bloomingdale’s in New York, consulting for Régine’s expansion beyond France, or buying the nearby chateau of Bachen and developing its vineyard.

Eugénie held three stars in the Michelin guide from 1977 onwards and Guérard’s influence on French restaurants was immeasurable.

He exemplified the singularities of nouvelle cuisine: plate service under silver domes; the chef-proprietor interacting with his customers as well as his chopping board; the emphasis on short cooking; the delight in sweet-acid combinations. His firm friendships with like-minded chefs, as well as their gift for the art itself, made the movement unstoppable.

Christine died in 2017. He is survived by their two daughters, Éléonore and Adeline.

🔔 Michel Etienne Robert-Guérard, chef, born 27 March 1933; died 19 August 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[clydesavage-thefox147]

SEASON FINALE AND SONG PREDICTIONS

So with Thomas dropping the fact that there will be 6 SONGS in the Season Finale, I'm going to talk about what songs could be possible and/or what I'd(and what I assume others) hope for.

First talking point is: how many times has each side actually sang in the series? Well, if you count actually singing instead of "speak-singing", Virgil has sang 2 times with "New Year's Lies" and "Incomplete". Logan has sang 1 time and that was during the "Crofter's Musical"(if you don't count the brief lines he sang in "12 Days"). Patton has sang a total of 2 times, once in "12 Days of Christmas" and once during "Incomplete". Roman's sang the most out of the main four, 3 total times with "Incomplete", "Crofter's Musical", and "12 days". However, if we are counting how many songs they played a significant part in...Virgil has had 3 with "New Year's Lies", "12 Days" and "Incomplete". Logan has had 4 with "Crofter's Musical", "Incomplete", "Rap Battle" and "12 Days". Patton has had 3 with "12 Days", "Rhythm Redux" and "Incomplete". Roman has had 5 with "Incomplete", "Rap Battle", "12 Days", "Crofter's Musical" and "Rhythm Redux".

So in simple terms: Virgil sang 2 times, featured in 3 songs. Logan sang 1 time, featured in 4 songs. Patton sang 2 times, featured in 3 songs. Roman sang 3 times, featured in 5 songs.

So Roman has sang the most and has been featured the most. Logan sang once. That's just out of the main 4. Patton and Virgil are basically tied.

Remus has only one main song with "Forbidden Fruit". But he's so far the only Side who's had a full song dedicated to him. Janus never had a song in the canonical series. Yes, he did sing "Into The Unknown", however that is a cover, not an original song. He was featured in Remus's song but it more or less was a flashback scene and sang from Remus's perspective so it really doesn't count. And since Orange will be hopefully making an appearance, it's safe to say he might make a musical debut.

So, what could this all mean? Well, seeing as there will be 6 songs, 6 possibilities. But here's my hope:

1: a Janus centric song. He is the only side(minus Orange) without any official, original, canonical song. So, it only goes to show that maybe he will get his own. It would be a great way to flesh out his character. Show an emotional side, show a devious side, show a sensual side... anything about him. It would be interesting to see a burlesque like show from him or like a jazzy slow cafe swing song. Hell, we could get a reprise or revision of "New Year's Lies" or some level of a reference to it.

2: A duet of anything kind. It would be very cool to see some duos that have been at odds lately having a dueling duet. Janus and Roman, Virgil and Janus, Virgil and Patton, Logan and Roman, or Logan and Remus. Or maybe get a villain duet with Janus and Remus like a Partners in Crime kind of thing. Or maybe a duet with recently newly formed friendships like with Roman and Virgil or Logan and Virgil. I think any of this would be fun.

3: a Logan centric song. Logan has sang the least out of the main 4 and has a lot of pent up words he so desperately wants to force out, so what better way to do it than with a ballad or an aggressive tantrum-like rage song. Something that shows his true deep seeded emotions and maybe shows the corruption from Orange's influence. It could be a song from Logan in private or could be one directed at everyone outwardly. Maybe he could end up singing it under Orange's influence.

4: An Orange Side villain song. Now yes, a corrupted Logan song would technically count but it would be from Logan's perspective and issues. An Orange centric song would introduce him, his motives, his behaviors, his vibe etc. It would be perfect. If Remus can get a debut song, why can't Orange? Or, imagine a confrontational song with Logan vs Orange.

5: a Roman centric song. Roman has been having clear issues throughout the season, if not series as a whole. Insecurities with himself, fragile and broken ego, loneliness, jealousy and animosity with almost everyone. He's been on the brink of snapping and breaking down just as much as Logan has been lately. So, it's safe to say that a song from him is possible. An emotional ballad? And Villain song? And mix of both? Who knows. He has sung the most and has been featured the most so I don't think he really deserves another song honestly but then again, this would be from his perspective completely and not mixed in with everyone elses' or a duet.

6: a Virgil centric song. Now yes, I don't really see a huge possibility of this but it would be interesting to hear from Virgil's perspective on everything under the quise of a song. His dark side connection and reveal, his feelings on his neutral side balance, and his relationship with everyone. It would be a rather cool and emotional moment for him. Like I said before also, would be nice to see a duet with him and either a side he's fond of or he has animosity with. But if it's a full song on him alone, all that could be mentioned entirely.

7(bonus?): a Patton centric song. Similar to Virgil's. An emotional ballad on his recent struggles. Moving On, new relationship for Thomas with Nico, his relationship with the other Sides, his depression, his strictness/religious trauma. It would be a very strong song in my opinion. But it would be neat to see a duet too of him either with Virgil or Janus.

Now, will all these happen? Probably not but it's safe to say that the ones that are of most likelihood are a Janus centric song, an Orange centric song, a Logan centric song and maybe a Roman centric song. It's also likely that we might get two songs in one part. So say: 2 songs in the 1st part, 1 in the 2nd, 1 in the 3rd and 2 in the 4th. I hope that whatever songs we get are bangers and becomes huge staples in the fandom just as much as the others.

What do you guys think??

[mollymauk-teafleak]

break it if I try convey it (chapter one)

More painter Husk AU! Very sorry to do this to you all right at the top of pride month but I promise the next chapter has the happy ending (...it just also has all the gnarly stuff too...) Huge thanks to @minky-for-short for beta reading!

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

-----

Husk must have spent hours looking at Angel Dust by now. 

Millions of seconds had run through their fingers like grains of sand, so much time where the only purpose to Husk’s eyes had been to look at his model, his muse, his friend, his lover, cataloging every inch of him with monastic devotion. His hands had done the translating, turning what he saw into paint on the canvas but those tawny gold eyes had only looked, somehow making it seem that every moment was precious. Even back when they believed they’d have a lifetime of them. 

But Angel wondered if Husk realized that he was being watched in turn.

He knew for damn sure he’d never be able to make the kind of art Husk did, he couldn’t take the feelings inside him and create that kind of beauty. He could barely turn them into actions, it had taken him a painfully, wastefully long time to learn how to do even that much. But he had watched Husk for all those moments, sketching out the shape of the other man’s soul, not on paper or canvas but on something inside Angel himself. And Angel had slowly managed to convince himself that he’d found one truly good man. 

What had seemed like a one way street, like something being taken from Angel in that way he was exhaustingly familiar with, had turned into something very different, something he’d never imagined he’d be allowed. An impossible luxury, to just be allowed to look at each other and let love grow in those quiet moments. 

And if either of them had torn their eyes away from each other and thought to look at the world around them, the cold, cruel, unfair world they both knew but seemed to have forgotten, they might have seen it. 

They might have seen the danger coming. 

—

Husk was used to feeling like he didn’t belong in places. For Christ's sake, he was a black man who’d grown up poor and regularly breaking the law because of it, who’d always been keenly aware of his attraction to other men, he’d damn near made a career of feeling like he was about to be none too politely asked to leave a joint.

So when he’d received an invitation from Miss Charlotte Morningstar, written out in her own elegant, looping handwriting that spoke of years of education and practice in how to be polite, Husk had fully expected that he wouldn’t be allowed across the threshold of wherever she was asking him to meet her. Not that he could still fit into his nicest suits from way back when but even if he could, they were hardly up to those kinds of standards. 

So he ended up feeling like a bit of an asshole when he went to the address and found himself standing outside a modest looking little cafe, all warm light and chalkboard menus, young couples and families enjoying coffees and pastries. 

But he still had the question of why Miss Morningstar wanted to see him in the first place to chew over. She was a nice girl but she was Angel’s friend first and foremost, he did business with her but it had all been brokered through that connection, that strange, unlikely friendship Husk still didn’t fully understand. This felt more like a social call than a business one and yet Angel was at work, every spare second selfishly hoarded by Valentino as he choreographed a new burlesque show, the tacky varnish the pimp spread over how he made the real money. Apparently there were some high rollers in town, he hadn’t even spared him for any sittings that week. 

Husk was doing his best not to think about it. Wondering why he was being led by a smiling waitress on a weaving path through busy tables to the quieter booths at the back was a less painful task for his brain. 

If anyone on the tables nearby recognised the governor’s daughter they weren’t saying. Husk couldn’t exactly blame them, she wasn’t projecting high society with her blonde hair pulled up in a messy knot, the sleeves of her shirt dress pushed up to her elbows. Despite her best efforts there were still ink stains on them, as well as her hands and even on her cheek as she wrote furiously in a little notebook, shifting other piles of papers around her to read different snatches of what was on them before diving back into her writing. 

Her partner, Vaggie, looked slightly more put together, smiling fondly and patiently as she sat across the table and stopped papers from sliding over the edge. Her gun metal gray hair was pulled back in a thick braid, her tea dress bright and demure. You’d never guess she was armed to the teeth under that flowery fabric, that in between preventing paper avalanches she was scanning the cafe for any approaching threat, ready to pin it down on the point of her knife. Husk had painted her three times now and it had taken all those sittings to get her to open up even a little. Now she had, he found her bruised and battered, singularly devoted to her girl, rarely without her teeth bared. He liked her a lot. 

“Guess I’m a little overdressed,” Husk commented, aiming for light rather than abrasive and missing, as usual. 

Vaggie didn’t even flinch, she’d heard him approach of course, but her girlfriend looked up in delight, “You came!”

Husk gave her a nervous smile, sliding into the booth next to Vaggie, “I mean, you’ve been bankrolling me the last few months, Miss, kind of felt rude not to.”

“I’m still glad,” she gave him a sunny smile, “And I’ve told you, you can call me Charlie, all my friends do.”

Husk didn’t really know what to say to that so he just ordered a black coffee from the waitress that had shown him to their table, looking between the two of them and the piles of papers, “So what’s all this?”

“Oh!” Charlie turned her notebook to show him pages of scribblings that she probably thought made the situation perfectly clear, “I’m just putting together another funding proposal for my halfway house. I have meetings coming up with potential donors, thanks to my father, and the more prepared I am, the easier it’ll be for them to see why we’re such a good cause, right?”

Husk was as blindsided by her optimism as her kindness, feeling more in tune with Vaggie as she hummed drily, “You’d think. If that was the case we’d have a lot more donors by now.”

Charlie only had a fond smile for that, “So we keep trying…which is actually what I wanted to speak to you about, Husk. I was going to hire you.”

Husk grunted, nodding thanks to the waitress as she set his coffee down in front of him, “I ain’t ever been called charitable, Miss…Charlie. But I do have some experience in charming money out of tight fists, just not by any legal means.”

Charlie gave a slightly tired chuckle, though her smile grew a half inch or so at Husk finally using her name, “If we can’t get the roof fixed, I’ll keep that in mind…but no. It’s your artistic skills I’d be interested in.”

“Another portrait of your bodyguard?” Husk inclined his head towards Vaggie who scowled in a way that didn’t fully hide her blush.

Charlie’s smile turned soft, her hand flicking out to lightly touch Vaggie’s hand in a way that would still be acceptable between high society ladies, were anyone to glance over, but said so much more to those who really knew. Husk couldn’t help an absurd spike of bitterness on his tongue that had nothing to do with the coffee and everything to do with jealousy. 

“True, I’d never get tired of looking at them but I had something else in mind,” she smiled, “You’ve never been to my hotel have you? You’ve never seen where Angel lives?”

Husk was ready to bet there were few people in the city that had, though they’d all have heard of it. The building used to be one of the grandest hotels in all of New York, an ornate, fanciful monument to its golden age, to a time when buildings had stretched to the clouds and the money had seemed like it would never dry up. Of course the wars and the crash had come quickly to remind the city of its mortality, driving home that, for all their finery, they were just humans, always one step from being crushed under the weight of their own hate and greed. The hotel had closed and been left to rot, collapsing from an idol into a mausoleum. 

He wondered if Charlie knew the irony of opening a halfway house in a brick and mortar metaphor. He supposed it wouldn’t stop her, even if she did. Now renamed the Hazbin Hotel, she claimed it was going to be a place for people to redeem themselves, to heal and start over again. Well, the first thing that needed a bit of redemption was the building itself, most people walking past the place assumed it was still condemned. 

That was the place Angel had been calling home for half a year. It said a lot about living with Valentino that a place without a roof was the preferable option. 

Husk perched his chin on one knuckle, watching clouds of steam erupt from the surface of his coffee, “No…he keeps a lot close to the chest and I don’t blame him. Last thing he needs is that bitch Valentino hearing I’m showing my face around Angel’s home…he talks about you though. I know you’ve done a hell of a lot for him, giving him a place he can get clean, a bit of slack on the leash so to speak. And I know what that means to him, even if he doesn't always show it through the layers of brat.”

“Thick layers,” Vaggie grunted, not quite hiding the edge of pride in her voice. 

Charlie gave her a look of fond exasperation, “He means a lot to us too. He was our first resident, our only one for a long time actually but…seeing how far he’s come…it’s incredible.”

Husk cheated his throat a little, worrying the conversation was starting towards emotional depths he didn’t have a life jacket for, “So, uh, what is it I’m painting then, if it ain’t your novia?”

Charlie got the dreamy look in her eyes, the one Husk hadn’t needed to know her long to get familiar with. It was the expression that told him she was seeing some bright, golden future that scarred, spent old nags like him couldn’t see anymore. The kind of thing you could only see if you still believed there was some good in folk. 

Or if they have a countdown to their lover’s freedom painted on their wall.

Husk winced guiltily, thinking of the tally he and Angel were keeping, counting every scrimped penny and hidden dollar, a paint thermometer directly on his studio wall, rising incrementally taller with each day. The total at the top was the price attached to Angel’s contract with Valentino, grown bloated over the years as he’d proved himself a real moneymaker, cost of room and board, of food and drink and the drugs added to it so it would be a weight around Angel’s neck that he’d never be able to lift. Not without help anyway.

I ain’t asking to fix the whole goddamn world. Just a little scrap of happiness, just for him. 

“The outside walls of the hotel could use some brightening up, I think. I want people to look at us and know what we’re about, what we’re trying to do. So I thought, what about a mural?”

Husk raised his eyebrows, immediately interested in spite of himself, “Huh. I’m usually a strict paper and canvas man but I have some old friends that work the street art scene. I could ask them about materials and such. What kind of thing would you want?”

Charlie folded her arms, leaning in so Husk could clearly see the infectious spark in her eyes, “Well that’s where I’d trust you and your expertise, Husk. The way you paint expresses exactly what I want people to feel when they’re at the hotel, all that hope and joy and excitement about life.”

“Not usually how people describe me,” Husk admitted, suddenly feeling caught off guard, like she was peeking behind a curtain. 

“It’s what I see when you paint Vaggie. It’s what I see when you paint Angel,” Charlie insisted, “You see people, Husk. You understand them completely and you make it all into something beautiful. Not just the good parts either, everything. There’s something so honest about your art but so hopeful at the same time. Even if you feel like you’ve given up, I don’t think that part of you has. No wonder Angel trusts you, no wonder he…cares for you. I’d like a mural that gives people that same hope and shows them if it worked for Angel, it can work for them. Even if he isn’t there to tell them himself.” 

Husk caught that last phrase, stumbling over it, “What do you mean?”

Charlie’s eyes looked a little misty now, though her smile didn’t dim in the slightest, her hand disappearing inside her purse for an envelope. As she pushed it across the table, he saw his own name written on it, in the same looping hand as his invitation. 

“Your payment for the mural. I thought you would like it in advance this time.”

Husk had the distinct feeling of being in the audience for a magic trick, of knowing some grand reveal was coming, tasting it in the air, but held in that maddening. addictive anticipation of the world being more than you’d ever thought. It was a feeling he knew well, one he’d been desperate to master from the first time he’d met it, as a little boy sneaking into the back of tacky Vegas magic shows. He wanted to take the tricks apart like puzzle boxes, crack them open and peer inside, not realizing that once he did so, the spark of scared. He’d tried to shape that feeling into music, into art, into amber liquids in highball glasses, into dice in the palm of his hand. He’d chased it down into dark corners and off the edge of the cliff. And none of it had come close, none of it had been worth the pain. 

Not until he’d heard it in Angel’s voice. And that was a trick he still couldn't explain. 

No wonder his hands shook as he ran his thumb under the sealed edge. 

Husk was Vegas born and raised, he counted the stack of bills in thirty seconds flat. But still, he counted them again and again and again, not doubting his own abilities but the reality in front of him. 

“I…this…” his mouth worked but no coherent sound came out, his brain still reeling. 

“And before you start saying pendejada like you can’t accept it, we asked around, that's a reasonable rate for the amount of work she wants done,” Vaggie hummed, sipping her tea, “Call the rest a bonus for taking Angel off our hands.” 

“It’s enough, isn’t it?” Charlie’s voice was soft, hopeful, “Angel told me what you were trying to do, he mentioned the amount and I triple checked the math. That gets you there?”

“It is,” Husk croaked, still barely able to believe it, even as the words left his own mouth, “We have it.”

It took him a moment to realize Charlie had taken his hand, almost like his brain had decided there was some grand, cosmic mistake and kicked him out of the body that was having its dreams come true. Her touch was light, hesitant, ready to pull away if Husk flinched but it was there, something offered but waiting for him to take it. Almost as unexpected as the riches in the envelope, the first time in a long damn time that someone had offered him friendship. 

And if today had already proven itself impossible, why not take that too?

Husk lifted her hand to his lips gently, relying on etiquette skills that had gone to rust long ago, feeling rather like a knight kneeling before a princess, “Thank you. Saying that doesn’t feel like enough and, hell, if you ever think of a way I can pay you back, you just call. But thank you.”

“Well, you can paint me a mural?” Charlie giggled, her smile golden, “And…love him. Both of you, take care of each other and love each other and be happy. The way you both deserve.”

“Done.” 

Husk was used to making promises he couldn’t and never intended to keep, it was how he’d survived, how he’d made a fortune and how he’d lost it. So he knew the difference between those cons and the word on his tongue. There were no wires, no loaded dice, no cards up his sleeve, no swig of cheap whiskey to make him brave. He simply meant it, a magic he’d never been able to pull off before but, fuck, he was doing it now. 

He smiled, mirroring some of Charlie’s spark, “I won’t let you down. I won’t let him down.”

Husk didn’t think he could see the same bright future she did. But he was ready to look for it. 

—

He should have seen it coming. 

Husk would berate himself again and again, scourge himself with it until the day he was six feet under. The years he’d spent living one step ahead of his own terrible decisions, lying and stealing and cheating his way up and down the strip, they’d apparently been all for nothing. Because he’d learned rules back then, rules he’d sworn he’d never forget. Keep your eyes up. Keep your ears open. Never let your guard down. Always have a spare ace up your sleeve. 

He should have seen it coming. 

But he just kept climbing the stairs up to his little studio, oblivious, feeling nothing but the weight of the envelope in his jacket pocket and the dreams in his head. It would be torture, waiting until tomorrow evening, the first time Angel had been able to beg a break from rehearsals all week, and then only by reminding Valentino that Husk was doing the artwork for the new show’s posters. Already Husk knew he’d spent that time writing scripts in his head and tossing them into a mental trash can, versions of how he would tell his lover, how he’d give him the money, how to make it special. He felt like a young fellow nervously fidgeting with a ring box, picturing getting down on one knee for his sweetheart after a carriage ride through Central Park. 

Well, it was the closest they were ever going to get so he’d damn well enjoy it. 

But the moment Husk’s hand touched the doorknob, all those half formed dreams fled his mind, winking out of existence like a power cut had hit the marquees and billboards he was building there. And only one thought remained, flashing red in letters ten feet tall. The one rule he’d forgotten more than any other. 

If you feel like you’re on top of the world, brace yourself because you’re about to take a real bad fall. 

But Husk hadn’t even felt himself falling. He’d just hit the fucking ground.

The lock on the door was broken, not just broken but shot to pieces, edges left jagged like teeth bared, ready to bite. Someone had been in his studio and didn’t care if he knew. Husk didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to know they weren’t run of the mill robbers, no back alley hoodlum came armed to do damage like that, cold and cruel but purposeful. Which left him with a very short list of very bad men.

He forced his breaths to come slow and steady, hand slipping into a secret pocket sewn into the lining of his jacket and coming back clawed with razor blades. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, trying to take the years off himself and become the man who’d lived through Midway and Okinawa, who’d cheated against every major mob outfit in Vegas and walked away, who’d gone up against guys twice his size and won. 

But he didn’t find any of those things behind the door. He found something worse.  

Husk would have said he didn’t have much in the world but he had to admit, it made an almighty mess. His studio had been taken apart, destroyed the way fists could destroy the face of someone they really hated. His easel had been snapped over a knee, there were bullet holes through the canvases on the walls, a chaotic mix of every color he owned vomited across the floor and thrown up the walls like a massacre of circus clowns. His brushes were snapped and splintered, whiskey bottles smashed to amber fragments, the ones with liquor still in them lit as fuel for a bonfire of his books. The door to his bedroom was ajar, giving a glimpse of more destruction there, his bed had been shredded with particular savagery. There was something almost childish about the ruin, something that spoke of a tantrum, a petty, recklessly swinging fist in response to a toy being taken away. 

That realization brought Husk’s list of names down to one, the one he’d been dreading most. 

Two things told him he was correct, as much as he didn’t want to be. The first he saw immediately, eyes dragged towards it past the ragged carcass of his humble life. Their tally on the wall had never gotten the chance to reach its goal, turpentine had been thrown over it, making its colors run and bleed, stripping it away. Like it had never existed at all. 

The second took him a little longer to notice, it was one scrap of destruction amongst so many. Husk supposed that was the point, he was only meant to find it when he felt like he couldn’t take any more, just to show that he could. 

They were lying where Angel would stand when he posed for him, a sad little pile of paper scraps, torn between cruel, vindictive fingers, a parody of confetti. Part of Husk didn’t want to pick them up, he knew what they were, why did he have to see it? 

But he did. He owed Angel that much. 

The scrap between his shaking fingers showed his lover’s pencil drawn smile, the rest of the face torn away to leave just this fragment of a happier time, one that was now a grimace of agony as he held it upside down to read the words scrawled across it. 

Husk knew this drawing, it was one of so many he’d done for Angel, little mementos of their time together smuggled back into the misery that was the rest of his life. When whole, it had shown him reclining back on Husk’s old sofa, loosely wrapped in a robe, flushed and grinning from the first time they’d ever made love. He’d done his best to capture the joy shining through in Angel’s eyes, in case that would be the only time they ever got to spend together, so he’d be able to take the memory with him. It was that act of love that had doomed them. 

Husk swallowed hard, only now reading those words cruelly carved across Angel’s mouth, like they were trying to shout over him. They weren’t a surprise but they were a blow to the stomach, enough to almost bring Husk to his knees.

You’ll paint me one last one, old man. My club, tonight, 11. 

Valentino.

[detroitlib]

Large ice sculpture forms over fountain on Michigan Avenue, with the Chinese Pavilion Cafe and Cadillac Burlesque in background. Recorded in glass negative ledger: "D/Fountains-Ice fountain."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[positivexcellence]

hilarie burton: When I was a kid, I’d watch “Bell, Book and Candle” with #jimmystewart and #kimnovak over and over, wishing I could just live in the Zodiac Club. So when I finally did move to NYC at 18 years old, I sought out the jazz clubs, the calypso bands, the burlesque shows. Cajun was a favorite haunt on 16th and 8th Ave. Yaffa Cafe was bursting with bohemian spirit. The Slipper Room became a sanctuary of strange.

This week, we got to celebrate Grimoire Girl in our very own Zodiac Club…. @canaryclubnyc . I feel so lucky that I found my people - a dreamy mix of artists and creatives who are also perfectly debaucherous! Music from @msnow_music . Candy from @samuelssweetshop . Spirits from @mflibations . Childhood friends and coworkers and coven mates…..

My Bell, Book and Candle dreams came to fruition. 🔮 Thank you to all of you guys!

Photos: @michaelsimon64 @jeffreydeanmorgan@danneelackles512 @sharingwithmydoc @tara_shafer @laceysd @pokutchinsnyc @anikaking @lizzy5445 @the_woman176 @jocelot424 @jimgaffigan @jeanniegaffigan @yuluminati @johncenatiempo1 @parrismayhew @barblinmayhew @sethzog @mollyelizabethbrown @caniskovich @mikepowers133 @bungalowentertainment @bobbyfriedman @ceochs52 @posluv @jeffreychassen @thedavidcruz @virginialinzeemakeup

[dailydanneelackles]

hilarieburton: When I was a kid, I’d watch “Bell, Book and Candle” with #jimmystewart and #kimnovak over and over, wishing I could just live in the Zodiac Club. So when I finally did move to NYC at 18 years old, I sought out the jazz clubs, the calypso bands, the burlesque shows. Cajun was a favorite haunt on 16th and 8th Ave. Yaffa Cafe was bursting with bohemian spirit. The Slipper Room became a sanctuary of strange. This week, we got to celebrate Grimoire Girl in our very own Zodiac Club…. @canaryclubnyc . I feel so lucky that I found my people - a dreamy mix of artists and creatives who are also perfectly debaucherous! Music from @msnow_music . Candy from @samuelssweetshop . Spirits from @mflibations . Childhood friends and coworkers and coven mates….. My Bell, Book and Candle dreams came to fruition. 🔮 Thank you to all of you guys!

[mermaidsirennikita]

Have you read Inmortals After Dark? I think you mentioned some of them, so, are they good? I want to give supernatural romance a try again,maybe with a ranking? But they are so many I don't want to waste your time lol the ones you liked the most maybe

I read brotherhood of the black dagger years ago and loved it

I have indeed read every single Immortals After Dark book, lol, including the novellas. They're my favorite paranormals I've read (thus far--there are definitely authors I need to get into).

Compared to Black Dagger Brotherhood, I think they stand on their own better in that there's not as much focus on bringing in other characters as the series goes on, etc. So while I am personally a stickler for reading basically.... any series in order, lol, I know tons of people who read IAD out of order and love them.

Some of my favorites include:

--The Warlord Wants Forever--This is the first installment, technically, and it's a novella, so it's really focused on introducing characters and a tight love story between Nikolai, an Estonian warlord turned vampire (the mythology behind this is so cool, by the way--there's a war for the vampire throne, and one of the contenders has a rep for going around battlegrounds and offering the best warlords a chance to become his vampire generals as they're dying; Nikolai and his brother Murdoch were turned this way) and Myst, a much older valkyrie with a reputation for seducing and killing vamps. In the IAD mythos, vampires are impotent after turning, UNTIL they meet their Brides. Then, they are... in a bad state.... until their Bride helps them out. Via touch. So Myst leaves Nikolai wanting. For FIVE YEARS. Before he finds her again. Has some dubcon, magical noncon in an "everyone is loving this but still legally it's dicey" kind of way.

--A Hunger Like No Other--The first full-length installment about a werewolf king who's been trapped in eternal flame in the CATACOMBS OF PARIS by vampires until he smells his mate above ground, chews off his own leg (it grows back) and finds her in a cafe and goes "YOU" before dragging her outta there. (And when she tries to run he's like "don't do it, my kind lOVES it when you run" which... chills.) And then oops, turns out she's half vampire! Bad times for Lachlain! I am OBSESSED with Kresley's werewolves. They literally worship the bonds of matehood and I love it when they have to grapple with "HER? REALLY? COME ON". Same dubcon/noncon stuff mentioned above.

--Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night--Another werewolf one, this one is about a werewolf who's on this hunt for a magical object in order to revive his dead mate, only to run afoul of a witch who's also looking for the object. And like? His Instinct tells him SHE's his mate??? ImPOSSIBLE!!! THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!!! A big adventure book with a very growly guy and a witch capable of unlimited power who also was a cheerleader in college.

--Dark Needs at Night's Edge--Virgin vampire who's been literally insane ever since he was turned (because, unbeknownst to his brothers who turned him to save him from dying, he was a part of a vampire-killing cult lol) is locked up in a New Orleans mansion to detox and get back to reality. Except oops, there's a beautiful lady who only he can see, FLIRTING WITH HIM. She's the ghost of a burlesque/ballet dancer and she's AMAZING. But again, ghost. So how will it work???

--Kiss of a Demon King--Dethroned demon king is tricked and taken hostage by his fated mate, an evil sorceress who needs to give birth to his heir as a part of her brother's Wicked Schemes. Only, in order for it to be his actual heir, he has to marry her first. And he REFUSES because he is a noble and morally upright demon king. Until she very much unleashes his bad side. Dubcon, ultimate bratty heroine and a hero who is just living. on. the. edge. because of her.

--Pleasure of a Dark Prince--Werewolf prince meets his fated mate in a cool, calm, and collected valkyrie... but sucks for him, because she swore her chastity to her goddess centuries ago, and if she breaks her vow she'll lose her supernatural archery skills. And she super doesn't want to. So he chases her around the planet for a year before catching her, at which point she grudgingly allows him to tag along as she sets off to ritualistically murder a cannibalistic god. It's actually very romantic, very hot, and VERY funny though it does deal with a lot of trauma featuring SA in the past. If you like "The Mummy" this has THOSE vibes. It's amazing, and it has one of my favorite depictions of the werewolf devotion and the extent to which it reaches in this series.

--Lothaire--I mean, arguably the most famous of the books in the series? To me, it's probably one of the biggest paranormal romances... ever... in terms of its daring. The hero has been one of the Big Bads throughout the series, and he does not... stop being evil. And crazy. And evil and crazy! He's 3,000 years old and has been waiting to find his Bride (not because he's romantic but because he has a Revenge Plan Endgame and vampires in this series power up once they meet their Brides). Only to find out that she is in fact a backwoods human girl, which HORRIFIES him. Until he realizes that she's possessed by an evil goddess, so he's like "that must be it!!!" and when the heroine is accused of murder he lets her sit on death row for FIVE YEARS while he looks for a way to cast her soul out of her body so the goddess can take hold. Once he has to get her out, though... And once they end up spending a lot of time together... He realizes that as much as HE has an impossibly strong will, this little human psych major quite possibly has a STRONGER will. One of the best enemies to lovers books of all time, if you want to watch a horrible dude brought to his knees by a woman who just refuses to give him an inch, this is it. It is a little better imo if you've seen Lothaire in other books at least once before; he is in Hunger, Kiss of a Demon King, and Pleasures of a Dark Prince (lol in a big way--he's traveling by coffin in a cruise down the Amazon River like a freak) at min.

In terms of subsequent books after that, I like and love a lot of them, ESPECIALLY MacRieve, but I think MacRieve is one you should read after settling into the world, as it's VERY dark and pretty lore-heavy. I would also recommend Dreams of a Dark Warrior quite a bit, but I also think you should read that... only after you settle into the world. It's quite dark as well, and has a very challenging hero/heroine dynamic. It comes right before Lothaire, and if you've read other books before it, I'd actually read those two in order for some fun setup. Lothaire has a legitimate POV in Dreams, which doesn't happen often in the series. And it is... a good way to get to know him. He is bananas. His POV is always great. He wears a Panama hat while telling the hero to neg the heroine. I love him. Tbh, Pleasure of a Dark Prince, Dreams of a Dark Warrior, and Lothaire can really be read as a good little three-book sequence. Sweet Ruin is also amazing, but another I'd read after settling in a bit.

But to be real, I've never read an IAD book I don't at least LIKE. Even the weaker ones have aspects I enjoy a lot.

[destinyc1020]

Anon, we have gotten a lot of sightings reporting that Tom was giving Z little kisses on the side of her head (like in that French burlesque theater). But we tend to get those sightings from private clubs where people are not allowed to take pics. We should know by now that he doesn't like strangers taking sneaky pics of him, particularly when he's with Z or other loved ones. Still, sometimes he loses control and we got him sexily caressing Zs arm in that Warriors game or sexily touching her during the Usher concert

Haha right? 😄 How can we forget the Usher concert where he practically had his hands up and down her body? 🤣 😭

Does anyone else other than me remember the reports way back in 2021 (BEFORE THE KISS exposed them) where Tom and Z were spotted at a Cafe, and he supposedly kissed her forehead, and some fans swore that it must have been a fake sighting coz Tomdaya would never do that in public?

Then, next thing you know....

BAM!!!!

🤣😅😂

So, I think the sightings have been true 👍🏾

But yea, I don't think Tom likes being photographed like that in intimate moments.... Most celebrities DON'T like being photographed in their intimate moments with their girlfriends or boyfriends. It can sometimes feel like an invasion of privacy.

Some ppl just say, "oh whatever...." and do whatever they want in public, but others might be more sensitive to it. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Idk what Tom's love language is, but I don't think he's against PDA or showing physical affection to his gf. I just don't think he likes being photographed or videotaped while doing so. I mean.... would YOU??? 🥴 🥴

If you knew that every single time you walked out of your door that someone, SOMEWHERE (whether a fan or the paparazzi) could be sneakily photographing you and everything you're doing, wouldn't it make you a little on edge or anxious about what you're doing sometimes?

You have be a little merciful towards celebrities and have some compassion, because their lives are not normal, and I don't think any of us would want to be followed or scrutinized so heavily like they are. 😔

[weimarhaus]

George Grosz (German, 1893-1959) Burlesque Show, New York, Cafe De La Paris, 1932. Watercolor on paper, 31x48 cm. @Sold at auction, May 14. 2017