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sydnikov · 1 year

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Jersey || J. Hughes

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3

“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.

Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.

“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.

“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”

Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.

You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?

You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.

And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?

It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.

Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.

Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.

He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.

So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?

Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.

Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.

Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…

A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.

I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.

The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?

Perfect.

Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.

You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.

Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.

Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.

“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”

So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.

“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.

Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”

Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”

Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.

More confident, too.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.

Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.

“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.

You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”

As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.

Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.

What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.

Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.

Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.

The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.

“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.

“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”

Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—

“Oh,”

Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.

But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?

Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.

He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.

He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.

You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…

The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.

“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.

“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.

Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.

A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”

You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.

“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.

Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.

“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.

They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.

Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.

He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”

You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.

Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.

All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.

“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.

As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”

Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”

You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.

“Oh! You guys worked it out?”

You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color. “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”

“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.

Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.

“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.

You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.

The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.

“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.

You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.

It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.

“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”

“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.

You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.

He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.

“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.

“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”

All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.

It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:

Home.

Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.

You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.

The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.

Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.

Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.

And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.

He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.

Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.

When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.

The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.

“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”

A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”

Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”

You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.

“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.

“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.

You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”

You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.

After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.

“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.

You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”

Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.

He had to approach this conversation delicately.

He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.

“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.

Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”

Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”

“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”

Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.

“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”

The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.

He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.

“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.

“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”

Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.

Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.

“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”

“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”

That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.

Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”

The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.

“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.

“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.

“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.

“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.

“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”

You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.

Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.

“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.

Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.

You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.

“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.

“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”

You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.

Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.

Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.

You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.

A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))

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softmangoes · 27 days

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how the LIs kiss

18+

pure!sydney's kisses are sweet, mouth soft and his tongue warm. he kisses you in the same way he savors the hard candies you'd slide over the library counter, slipping them into his hands just so your fingers could brush. when he pulls away, his glasses are foggy, a nervous smile on his face. "was that..." he says, blushing. "was that alright?"

corrupt!sydney's kisses are hungry. he's got his hands under your shirt and his tongue deep in your mouth. he's been waiting so patiently, after all, and now he finally has you to himself. "you taste divine, beloved." he says, fingers slipping under your waistband. when you sigh against his mouth, he smiles. "but i think it's time i have my dessert."

whitney's kisses hurt. they're full of teeth and bruises and blood and his nails digging crescents into your skin. whenever he crushes his lips to yours, he always makes sure to leave you aching. and like every fight you've had against him, you never come out unscathed. "there," he says, marveling at the fresh marks blooming along your neck. "now everyone will know whose slut you are."

kylar's kisses are desperate. his hands roam your skin as his mouth murmurs endless promises into the hollow of your neck. "we'll be together forever," he says, drunk on the scent of you. he presses his body to yours, eager to get closer, to envelope you in his embrace. to never, ever, let you go. "nothing will ever change that."

eden wastes no time when he kisses you. he has known the lean months of winter and the lonely days of fall. you cannot deny him the sweetness of spring. he bites into the curve of your neck like the first fruit of warmer days, licks at your lips to drink in your sweetness. but a hunter is always hungry, always wanting. "it's been a long day," he growls, deepening the kiss. when he takes your shirt in his hands, the fabric rips apart easily. "too long without you."

robin's kisses are warm. they're fingers running through your hair, a smile against your mouth. sunny days and lips that taste like fresh lemonade. he always laughs when he kisses you, like he can't believe he's doing this. like he can't believe he's yours. when he kisses you, the world is a little brighter. softer. "it's a beautiful day to be with you," he murmurs after he pulls away, pressing a peck to your cheek before taking your hand in his.

there is no way you can truly describe how the ivory wraith kisses you, but there is a note of familiarity to it. your mind conjures memories of kisses whispered in passing, of lips locked in darkened halls. "as sweet as ever," he hums, licking your lips with his cool tongue. "as sweet as always." the passing of centuries have done little else but make him yearn. the wraith, with his great and terrible beauty, kisses you like he's been waiting for you all this time.

#degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity fic #dol fic #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #whitney the bully #robin the orphan #kylar the loner #eden the hunter #ivory wraith #look i know ivory isn't a love interest but he is to me and we are married in cursed matrimony #anyway i am fascinated knowing that sydney has a sweet tooth and think he would just become so ravenous when corrupted #also eden tends to put pc's mending skills to WORK after he gets especially eager #my writing

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woso-lover · 2 months

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Home is, whenever I'm with you | Lena Oberdorf

Lena Oberdorf x german!bayern munich!reader

Summary: Lena suprises you with her move to your childhood club. To finally be with you properly.

Warnings: a bit of angst, fluff

English is not my first language

Masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Girl, I never loved one like you

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You grew up in Munich. Everything you know is there. Your famil. Your friends. Your bestfriend, Sydney. Your club.... Everything you loved was in one place. Exept your home, your lover, Lena Oberdorf. She plays for Wolfsburg. That wouldn't be the problem, even trought its the rival, but Wolfsburg is too far away from Munich, to see each other more then once in a month. And its slowly infecting your realationship.

It's started when you both grow out of the honeymoon phase. That doesn't mean you're stopped being smitten about each other. But the distant made it worse. A 6 hours drive or a one hour flight. It started to come to much.

It wasn't because of the lack of trust you have for each other. You trust each other very much. But you missed the closeness, the cuddles or the kisses. The things you would only get, if you play each other or in the german camp. It was rarely that one come to visit the other. To caught up with training for your clubs.

So everytime the national break started, you follow each other like lost puppies. It's mostly Lena, who follows you everywhere. Her Wolfsburg teammates will tease all the time, when the break is going to start or gets closer. But she doesn't care. She only cares about being close to you.

But you follow her everywhere too. And your teammates tease you about that too. Like obi, you don't care either. You're just happy being with her again.

To the problem is only one solution. One has the move clubs. But you both are too stuborn.

"I'm not moving away, liebling. (Darling) I have everything here."

"I change would look on you, baby. You can't always stay in the same place your whole life." Obi argues back on a face time call. It wasn't a fight. More like a discussion, in wich you both bring the same arguments over and over again.

"You know i can't handle change. And it would be a change for you too."

"I know you can't. And i already had a change. I moved from Essen. There wouldn't be so much change. You know half of the from national and you got friends with Lynn."

You look away, to the wall, feeling defeated. "Ha Gotcha, Schatz. (honey)" Obi said happily. "If you move to Bayern, you can play with and see Lea more often." You knew what the Lea card would do. You know that Lena misses to play in the same team as Lea, like in Essen.

"Didn't you wanted to show me your new tattoo idea?" Obi distracts from the topic.

You knew Obi wants to distracts from the topic. She was a bad loser and she knew how right you were, Obi just didn't want to admit that. So you played along.

"What do you think of something like that?" You showed her a page from your sketchbook.

Since then none of you dared to bring up the topic again. In the meanwhile Obi has gotten an offer from bayern munich. She didn't know what to do with it. Should she tell you? Should she ignore it? These question were toturing her mind.

Her solution: She's going to ask on national break what you would say if she got an offer from your beloved club.

But unfortunately the right time wouldn't come to Lena. Everytime she was close of telling you something happened. So she finally decide to say it to you no matter what.

She walked into the chill room, wich she knew you mostly are. You were there but you talked with Sydney. She didn't mean to overhear, but she stayed as she heard her own name out if your mouth.

"I love Lena, but i don't know how long it's going to work" Obis face fell. She doesn't want you to think like that. She wants to be with you forever. With sad face she walks away. She talks to you after your conversation with Sydney. But she stopped as she heard Sydney speaking.

"Don't say stupid shit like that. It's going to work out. You both are so smitten and follow each other like lost puppies. It makes me love sick. It's getting to the point to become disgusting."

"Yeah because your Single" you chuckle and on Obis face a smile grows.

"But i'm serious. If you leave, then there would be nothing much different. You still have me and Klara. We still be friends and pull pranks on camp or annoy Laura. Okay? You still got us and the team. We're a big family." Sydney hugs you.

'That's why' Obi realized. You're scared that if you move, your friends will turn their back on you. Obi walked away with smile. Knowing what she's about to do, calling her agent.

You were more then suprised as Lena said she will be visiting for a few days, but gadly take it. With Lena being in Munich you were happier. Sydney and Klara took notice of it and asked themselves why. But they got the answer, when Lena picks you up from training.

"Hope it wasn't too boring, being alone." You kissed Obi. After you two broke apart, you hugged her. Behind your back Sydney, Klara and Georgia made gagging faces. Lena rolled her eyes at them.

"No it wasn't, Liebling" It really wasn't. It was exhausting. She was talking with the club, her agent and the Bayern coach. All to negotiate her move to Bayern Munich.

The day she signed the contract she had mixed feelings. The tought of leaving Jule behind haunted her. But the blonde told her to go, to get her girl. It made Obi feel a bit better about it, but not fully. The other side was excitment. To be near you. To kiss you everyday. To cuddle with you. To cook with you. To do everything with you.

Before the national camp in february the romurs of Lenas move spread over. You saw it too, of course. You didn't know how to feel. There was hope, but you knew to not trust rumors. And Obi wasn't a help either. She only said that she didn't know how or why there are rumors. It broke her heart to see your face fell, just to cover it up quickly with a smile.

On the 14th february her move to Bayern will be officinal. She came to munich for the day, because of valentines. She knew you had a came on the evening, so she took you on a date for lunch. The whole day you weren't allowed to look on your phone. You wondered why and asked her. She only told you it would ruin her suprise.

After lunch in your favourite restaurant she took you to your favourite park, in wich you finally were allowed to look on your phone. You looked confussed at her but did anyway.

"Now go on insta"

"Obi what have you done?"

"Nothing" she smiles at you.

You looked on your phone your confussed look turned into shock. You looked up at Obi, who smiled slyly at you. "Suprise?"

"You fucking idiot. I love you" You run to Lena and hug her. "But why would you do that? You didn't had to"

"I know. But i love you. And Bayern didn't Sound that bad." With that she kisses you. Happy play with you next season and to in with you

#woso #lena oberdorf #vfl wolfsburg women #fc bayern frauen #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern munich #dfb frauen #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #lena oberdorf x reader

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aphroditesbaby1616 · 12 days

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Damiana (c.b. oneshot)

♡ O/S Inspo: Damiana (otherwise known as loveseed) is used to increase the intensity of sexual magick, increase magical energy, divination, dreams/clairvoyance, enhance pleasure and increase psychic abilities.

♡ Summary: You & Carmy wake up extra early on your day off for some reason, so he knows a good way to put you both back to sleep.

♡ W/C: 1,737

♡ Posted Date: 04/18/2024

♡ A/N: OMG Thank you all for 100 followers what the actual heck!!! I want to give each and every one of you a forehead smoochin, thank you so much for hanging out with me and supporting my work! As per usual my requests are alwayyys open! For Carmy x Reader & Carmy x Sydney I woke up today at the asscrack of dawn for no reason at all, and was hit with a strike of writing lightning!! Just in time for my 100 follower celebration :D!!! I hope you enjoy this smutty smutty goodness. Sidenote - Taylor is releasing an album tomorrow so I am bouncing off the walls of my iron cage and gnawing at the bars I'M SO READY!!!! ANYWAYS enjoy my friends <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: Unedited (we die like men!!!) Breeding kink, swearing, smut smut smut, fluffy needy Carmy, established relationship NO USE OF Y/N

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

Early mornings with Carmy were your favorite. Well - the early mornings that he wasn’t jumping in the shower even before the sun had kissed the horizon. But these mornings.

You woke up this morning at 4:52 - it was Sunday, your favorite day. Carmy & your day. The Bear was closed, the single day a week that it was - so it meant your loving, wonderful husband could stay in bed with you until 3 if he wanted.

He’d told you many times before if you woke before him for some reason on your sacred together day, to wake him because he didn’t want to spend a moment without you - but for now, you watch.

It wasn’t often you saw your beloved man like this, fully at peace. Well, other then when he fucked you - but while awake he never fully looked this peaceful.

You carefully brushed his messy curls off of his forehead, dragging your nails across his scalp gently. You just couldn’t help it, you knew how much he loved it.

‘Mmm?’ He grumbled, his voice thick and low, husky with sleep.

“Sorry” you whispered, smiling a bit. You couldn’t help but think of a grizzly bear when he’d make noises like that. While he was in this half asleep - half awake state, he would grunt and huff and grumble, especially on Sundays.

Just like any other day, his internal clock was on time - and today - he has 0 alarms set.

“No ‘s fine been up” he said softly.

You kissed his forehead tenderly, the faintest bit of mint sticking to his breath from last night when he brushed his teeth before practically crawling to bed since he was so exhausted.

“Bear- it’s Sunday- go to sleep” you said, gently rubbing over his bare chest with your soft palm.

“Damn birds” he grumbled, causing you to giggle.

“Y’know it’s the boys, actually? Because the uh…the moms. They go out before the sun, to find breakfast. And the dads are - well. Scientists theorize - that the dads are calling the moms back to the nest, like an alarm the kids are up and hungry” you said softly.

He hums in interest, rolling on his side with his eyes still closed and gently kissing down your neck as you spoke

“All I heard was a really good reason we don’t have kids yet” he said, voice deep and thick with sleep.

“Yeah yeah ok Mr ‘im gonna make you a mom’ “ you imitated his horny raspy voice and he chuckled, snaking his hand under your shirt and rubbing over your stomach gently

“I am as soon as you take this fuckin thing outta y’r arm” he gently bites down on the inside of your bicep where your implant was, sucking gently, causing you to laugh.

“I swear to god - your hormones Carm, it's like you’re ovulating or something” you teased and he snorts a laugh into your skin

“Not my fault you make me horny in the morning” he reached up, palming your breast and squeezing gently

“You were horny before you woke up fucker, I feel you” you teased, wiggling into his bulge that was pressing into your ass firmly.

He moaned softly, rolling his hips into yours “Y’gonna help me out or do I have to go shower?” He teased with a grin.

You roll your eyes playfully “gonna make me work before the sun is even fully in the sky?” You asked and he chuckled a bit

“No. Just stay right like this. I can play with you, right?” He kissed your jaw gently, nipping at the sensitive part near your ear and soothing the sting with his tongue in a way that made you whine.

“Yes. But I wanna feel good too” you said, voice needy already. It was quite embarrassing the effect he so easily had on you, he barely even had to try.

“Oh of course princess, y’think I’d neglect my favorite toy? When have I ever left you without makin’ sure y’feel good mm?” He kissed the base your neck right at the top of your spine, spreading your thighs with his knee, your bodies flush together.

“Well there was that one time-“ you teased as he pulled his cock out

“Oh the one time I punished you f’r bein’ a brat.” He squeezed your hip and trailed his hand around your stomach, rubbing gently before dipping his fingers in your panties, finding your clit and humming in satisfaction when you whine hotly, arching into his frame further.

“Cause you were wearing those slutty gray sweatpants and every bitch in the grocery store was staring at your dick print” you counter, causing him to chuckle, the vibration coursing through you since you were flush to him like one being.

“mmmm and is that why you’re so wet, cause you’re thinkin’ about me wearing something slutty?” He teased rubbing slow firm circles in the way that made you writhe and squirm.

“Stop teasing before you nut all over my back” you smirk and he gasps, feigning offense.

“Someone is mouthy this morning” he moved the fabric to the left, rubbing his thick cock over your folds easily with your slick aiding him, moaning softly.

“Mmmm thank you” you rest your head back on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. “Feels soooo nice.” You mumble as he slowly rolls his hips, the head of his cock teasing your clit just enough.

It wasn’t a full rub, not enough to make you cum for a while, but more a pleasant gentle massage. You felt his hand back on your stomach, rubbing short strokes up and down as he pants, in pure quiet bliss. That was something you adored about him- whenever you were in public, he was shy, quiet. So quiet. But when you were alone together- the man didn’t have an off switch.

Neither did you, but yours didn’t shut off in public, either. You did enough talking for the both of you, it was what drew him to you. The only time you made him more quiet, was when he was playing with you this way in the morning. You were pretty sure it was the time, his brain hadn’t fully woken yet - but he had one thought bouncing around like a DVD video logo his cock was achingly hard.

“I’m probably gonna fall asleep but you’ll wake me right?” You asked and all you got in response was a breathy ‘mmhmm’

He gently bit down on your neck, then your shoulder, then your arm, causing you to giggle and look back at him as well as you could “you wanna suck on it. Don’t you.” You teased, referring to your implant.

Another whiny ‘mmhmm’ and he rolls his hips a bit harder, causing you to moan as his tip ruts over your clit firmer

“So sweet.” You smiled lazily, closing your eyes once more and humming “I love this Bear y’make me feel so good” you said softly and he whimpers

“Fuckin’ hell y’too sweet. Lettin’ me play with you like this sweetheart, the sweetest girl” he praises, pushing the hair from your messy sleep off your forehead and kissing your temple.

“Cus’ y’the best husband” you laced your fingers together and held your hands over your stomach.

“Mmmm y’know I fuckin love hearin’ y’say that, right?” He rasps, hips getting sloppier and rougher as he got closer to his high.

“I do every time I say my husband on the phone you blush. It's the cutest thing that you’re still feelin’ like we’re on our honeymoon 2 whole years later” you kissed his hand sweetly.

“Cause I’m so fuckin’ lucky. Can’t fuckin’ believe y’agreed to take my last name babe. The way you say our last name is so fuckin pretty” he said, kissing your shoulder gently

“I feel so fancy with it. Mrs.Berzatto. Berzatto is so much cooler then my maiden name.” you said

“Fuckin hell sweetheart im so close can I please cum in you?” He begged, his voice needy and wanting

“Of course Bear Y’don’t need to ask” you said and he released your hand, placing his palm at the base of your abdomen and slipping in, filling you to the hilt.

You whimper, back arching slightly “mmm feel’so full” you mutter, gasping as he started a quick snap of his hips, jaw falling slack.

“It’s so fuckin hot that I can feel myself fuck you” he pressed his palm firmer into your abdomen, angling himself in a way to both feel himself better, but also slide perfectly against your gspot

“Yeah y’get so deep bear. Y’gonna fill me up? Y’gonna knock me up? Mmm?” You whine, your own orgasm approaching fast

“Fuck yeah I am princess sh-iiit. Fuck gonna make y’a fuckin mom” he grunts, spreading your legs further and reaching down to rub your clit making you clench around him.

He whimpers hips stuttering as he ruts into you, completely bottoming out trying to get as deep as he can as he empty’s his huge load into you, breathing hard and remaining still inside of you while he rubs your clit in quicker circles.

He could tell you were on the edge because of the way you were clenching and unclenching around his now overstimulated cock, he wanted to get you there so he could remain inside of you for a while.

“That’s it, my good girl. Thank you Angel, you took me so well. Y’can always handle whatever I give you it’s so fuckin hot. Now I’m gonna make sure y’re all taken care of, mmm? Just like I promised” he said softly into the shell of your ear before kissing your head gently.

“I’m cumming. I’m fucking cumming - oh- fuck-“ you whine, thighs shaking as some of your mixed arousal drips down his balls to his thigh.

“Gooood. Tha’s it, good girl” he praised, slowing his fingers to a slow rub as he worked you down.

“Mmm that was so nice Carmy” you hummed, looking back and kissing his lips lovingly.

“So nice princess. Thank y’for letting me” he kissed the tip of your nose gently “can I stay in a little longer” he kissed your jaw gently

“Course- I was actually gonna ask you to. I like falling asleep like this” you laced your fingers together holding your interlocked hands over your belly. “Y’so fuckin perfect” he mumbled into the skin of your neck.

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ashersanity · 5 months

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I know you're a whitney enthusiast but please drop some messed up jealous corrupted sydney.

🤲

- 🤡 Jester

pft, don’t you know that I’m also a sydney enthusiast too, jester? or more like johan is.

if you haven’t already seen this post, involves corrupted yan!syd, if so then, I’m still willing to write for you a few snippets of my stupid ideas.

cw! mentions of violence, blood, non-con, burning, possessive and abusive behaviour, shitty rambles

I think.. I may have unintentionally made sydney terrifying, shit.

jealous c!sydney that can’t help but look in your direction, across from the library counter as you chat away and giggle to kylar’s sketches. their now ex-childhood friend smiling to themselves, proud to be the one responsible for that precious laughter. amber eyes narrowing at the sight, grip tightening, not even realizing they crushed the pen in their hand before a droplet of ink drips down to the carpeted floor.

jealous c!sydney’s fist that doesn’t hesitate to meet whitney’s face the second they openly refer to you as their ‘slut’, the two school mates now thrashing and squirming around on the ground, attracting quite the crowd. the bully sauntering off with a pissed look on the face, utterly humiliated that they lost to sydney of all people. seriously, the bastard is gonna get it once they’re alone again, mark their word. obviously the fallen doesn’t care, for they have you to now tend to their wounds that whitney left behind.

jealous c!sydney who purposefully sends blowed kisses your way whenever you sit at robin’s table during lunch time. of course, they’re petty like that, wants the stupid orphan to know that you’re their partner first and foremost, the one who took sydney’s virginity. enjoys the change in the other’s features, a slight frown forming on their face as they watch the initiate walk away.

jealous c!sydney who insists on marking you, leaving ‘subtle’ traces of their existence across your body. starts randomly nipping at the blade of your shoulder at times, softly claiming they’re only being playful, right? that’s what lovers do to each other sometimes, right? for it is too late once they’ve written their name down on that exact spot again, in bright red letters, unable to be missed by any filthy fucker who tries to get their hands on you.

jealous c!sydney who’s now tugging at your wrist, sneaking you inside the prayer room, insistant kisses sloppily left all over your mouth and face. god, they need you, they really do. wandering hands not stopping despite your protests, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and flushed cheeks, begging them to stop. lost through maddened lust, no driven wild by their all time high jealousy, does not listen, only ignores your frantic pleas.

jealous c!sydney who now has a torch in hand, shrill screams echoing through the isolated room as the burning fire meets your flesh, forever ingraining themselves into you. warm arms finding their way around your trembling frame, cooing you sweet nothings, reassuring you with kisses as if they didn’t just burn you. burnt your skin, irreparably leaving their mark behind. you won’t leave them after this, not ever.

“oh, my beloved,” sydney murmurs against your ear, tracing the length of their finger across your cheek, smearing fresh blood along the skin. the same one they’d cup at while you two kissed, familiar warmth now replaced with something else, something more.. sinister. darker. “don’t you understand? we belong to each other now. as one.”

#i kinda went off the rails there #my bad #burning your beloved to forever ingrain yourself into them though #fuck yeah #corrupted sydney #jealous #johan would be into that #two sadistic bastards vibing #the perfect couple really #dol #degrees of lewdity #sydney the fallen #jealous sydney #jester anon?#asher gets asks #asher writes #badly

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faunandfloraas · 2 months

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Eternity, Bang Chan - 2024 // Eternity, Arthur Stace - 1932 to 1966.

In 1932, residents all over the city of Sydney started noticing something interesting, the word “Eternity” written on the pavement or wall, over and over again. The word was seemingly written by the same person each time, in a beautiful copperplate script. The mystifying and intriguing presence of graffiti before graffiti was commonplace had Sydney residents pondering who this "Eternity man" could be. In 1956, the mystery was solved- Arthur Stace, a former soldier and alcoholic, turned man of faith, had inscribed the word over Sydney's suburbs more than half a million times between 1932 and 1966. He chose to write the word in the early hours of the morning, when few people were around, managing to keep his identity a secret for over 20 years. Something about the word eternity, written in fleeting chalk on the ever-changing city streets, seemed to compel locals- Newspaper writers published account after account speculating on the identity of this unknown man and the occasional false confession helped to maintain the air of wonder and mystery that surrounded the anonymous "Eternity man". Even after his identity had been revealed, Mr. Eternity, as he came to be dubbed, continued writing his eponymous "Eternity" across the walkways and walls of Sydney for another decade, becoming a beloved character in the city until his passing at the age of 82, in 1967. Now, nearly 60 years after the final "Eternity" by Arthur Stace was written, his message of eternity still manages to permeate the minds of Sydneysiders- becoming a representative word of the city.

#As soon as I saw the music video was all him (and berry) walking around sydney and the song was called eternity I couldn't not think of this #and no one optimizes sentimental Sydney boy like Christopher Bang so.#Thus this idea was born.#stray kids #Bang Chan #christopher bang #bystay #skz #skzedit #stray kids gifs #skz gifs #sydney #arthur stace #cb97 #funny how he wrote it in chalk and they've all long since been washed away- and he was poor and had no children #yet his little eternity signature means he'll be remembered a lot longer then he ever would have been otherwise #at the 2000 olympics they lit up an eternity across the harbour bridge in his writing #and there's a theater named for him too

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gnnosis · 8 months

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i have a theory about the bear & carmy’s artistic talent and no one else (that ive seen!) seems to be talking abt this. gotta get it out there so if it happens i can say i predicted it

carmy is going to leave the restaurant industry. we see time and time again that carmy is not happy in the industry, and maybe never has been. he’s traumatized by the fancy restaurant he worked at. he wanted to work at the beef, but only to be with mikey. he took over the beef because he (felt he) owed it to michael — and because he had the skills — not out of some great love of cooking. he only got to his level of skill out of a self-professed “fuck you” to mikey! carmy’s not happy. “this shit’s not fun for me,” he says to richie. make no mistake — he’s really, really good at it. but he’s not happy. the industry brings out the worst version of him, every single time. the stress of the kitchen turns him into the bear from the 1x01 opening, into his mother.

contrast this with syd and richie, tina, even marcus. even under stress, even with everyone yelling at each other, the kitchen brings out the best in them. they’ve improved their skill levels because they feel they owe it to themselves. richie thrives under the pressure of being a concierge, he’s a new man, he wears suits now. tina is a transformed person because she’s begun to believe in herself (and knows others believe in her). marcus (although thwarted by his own hyper-focus sometimes) delights in the craft of being a pâtissier, creates spectacular, thoughtful dishes — he flourishes.

and sydney. sydney, under stress, opening night, is throwing up in the bushes, like we know carmy did in a job that was Bad for him. but it’s not the stress of the job per se that’s getting to syd, but the pressure she’s put on herself to do well enough that her dad will see the bear as she sees it — her very own place in the industry she loves above all else, a place to practice her beloved craft, to take care of people, to pour everything she has into this one thing. it’s not the job making her physically sick, like it did carmy, it’s the pressure of showing how much she loves the job, of her dad thinking she’s doing well enough to deserve to love and devote herself to it as much as she is. and in the kitchen, under pressure, with carmy locked in the fridge, syd doesn’t panic, doesn’t yell and scream — not really. she collaborates with richie, delegates as necessary, steps up — and leads. she shines.

carmy as a chef is doing what he’s good at, performing the skills he’s cultivated. it might be the only thing he feels he’s good at. it’s all he’s ever really known. but it’s not healthy. it’s killing him. it’s ruining his relationships with everyone important to him. he needs to get out.

i predict that sydney and richie will take over the bear. probably with nat’s help behind the scenes. they love it. it gives them purpose. it makes them thrive.

and carmy… will go to visual arts school. (or simply become an artist. do people still do art school these days? if so… like… he could do worse than SAIC)

i don’t think the show has been dropping all these references to carmy’s artistic talent for no reason. the pants he designed (thom browne’s!), the drawings of claire they mention and then flash during his panic attack, the speculative drawing of the bear he gifts michael in 2x06, and the menu drawings that sydney gushes over. the painting he hates that’s hung in the restaurant? could you do a better one, carm?? in the future, will that get replaced with one of yours, carm??? his artistic talent is lingered on too much to not be indicating something about what carmy really loves. a talent he innately has but doesn’t seem to realize the depth of. what he’d spend his time doing absently before he got caught up in the rat race of the restaurant industry. he talks about art like it’s something he’s compelled to do, like it’s something he loses himself in. a flow state.

carmy can flourish too. it’s just that he’s going to need to go somewhere else to do it.

#if it happens i predicted it. if it doesn’t happen……it was still a good idea #the bear #the bear meta #the bear theories #the bear theory #the bear season 3 #the bear season two #the bear season 2 #the bear analysis #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto #the bear fishes #sydcarmy #syd x carmy #long post

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hourglassfish · 8 months

Text

On Season 1, Episode 7 Part Three : Risottogate

OK look,

Go and get yourself an ecto cooler or something, cus this is long, OK? This is long.

You comfortable?

Alright, let’s go.

don't forget the Xanax!

Elevated Beef (stock)

There’s a connection drawn between Sydney and veal stock in the Bear. She spills it all over herself during Brigade. Claire interrupts Carmy purchasing veal stock for menu testing her bone broth idea at the end of 2:2. It’s an interesting ingredient to align her with: a staple of French cuisine, something you’ll find in a professional high end kitchen but not necessarily at home, a distinctive, practical component which provides a subtle, solid umami base for a range of dishes.

The first time this connection is drawn is during one of my favourite interactions: the ‘plum haribo’ story in Brigade. Marcus has decorated his work station (I love him), and despite the fact that Carmy says he’s having flashbacks (eeeeeeek), I think he is happy to see this coming together of his two worlds.

They start talking about this fancy plum dish, and a gelee component (which will reappear in Honeydew!) that had to have a very specific texture. Carmy has been talking about the dedication needed to make this dish work with pride, presenting the texture of the gelee as a huge challenge, something it took someone a year to figure out. Sydney cracks it in less than a minute. Veal fat. She knows what’s needed, and she knows why: it congeals when it’s cold. Boom!

Carmy’s response to this always amuses me. He is not…dismayed exactly. Not quite. After all, it’s a reminder of her brilliance, and also that that world is not so far away. That being said, she cuts across a punchline here; and what was a mystery to the best chefs in the world for a year is immediately obvious to her, to the extent that it’s not even really a flex on her part: she states it quite diffidently. Marcus’s gleeful ‘Mission Accomplished’ is very different from Carmy’s, which is a bit more ‘…oh.’.

On rewatches where I feel charitable, Carmy then implements the brigade cus he's been reminded that he has someone close by from that world, he has an ally that speaks his language, who is talented. On days when I feel less charitable, I combine this with him later talking her through the differences between stock/jus/demi-glace in front of Tina like an asshole, and see him handing the brigade over at that specific moment, in the specific way that he does as passive aggressive. Most days I’m with the former! Still…we’re back in the grey areas of Syd and Carmy’s dynamic. Where all the good shit is!

He's so glad she figured that out so quickly, absolutely not feeling a type of way about it, nope, not at all

I wanted to start with this story cus it opens up three things for me:

a) just a frisson, a hint, a delicious drop (!) of competition between Syd and Carmy

b) the question, beloved by fanfic writers everywhere, of what the dynamic between these two might have been if they had met in a different context.

c) a third, messier thing, about Carmy going away, tooling up, coming back and it needing to be worth something, that going way. As far as he knows at this point, It didn’t achieve what it was meant to achieve, it didn’t get Mikey’s attention. Maybe he didn’t need to leave Chicago to do it. Sydney's talent tickles that tension, as does Marcus's (trios, trios!). So what was it for? What were the past few years of his life for, if a bunch of this stuff was in Chicago all along?

Who was Carmy away from Chicago? Who is he without his family? We’ve only seen one flashback so far, very much from inside Carmy’s head. The way he tells it is very different from what we see. At Al Anon, he describes himself like this:

‘when somebody new came into the restaurant to stage, I’d look at them like they were competition, like I’m gonna smoke this motherfucker’.

But you're tall and sexy, so don't worry about it babes

Gosh. Yes Chef!

I don’t think Carmy holds anything like this level of aggression towards any of the original staff of the Beef: it would be absurd: they don’t have his training or experience. For the most part we see doing the work of pulling a team together, which explicitly involves putting that kind of competitiveness to the side.

I don’t think he has this energy for Sydney.

Not quite.

I do think it’s an important thing for us to learn about his character. I do think that we are told it at the beginning of Episode 8, after Sydney has quit, because there are ugly feelings around the risotto dish. I do think that those feelings drive a lot of how Review goes down, and that Carmy knows this.

This ferocious comparison and competition, used as a driving force, is a part of who Carmy is, and a part of the kitchens that he has come from. In another context, Sydney would have just been competition. And he’d have been trying to smoke her.

Let’s follow a humble bowl of risotto through THREE EPISODES, and about 5000 words, good GOD.

Tracing the Journey of the Risotto: Unanticipated

I tried to find appetising pics of her cooking the risotto but mostly it doesn't look very aesthetic, so here is Syd in my fave of her scarves.

A Risotto, playing on ‘tongue in cheek’ is first tentatively pitched in Sheridan, as an idea for a new menu that they have ‘spoken about’. Carmy is… noncommittal. He’s not into it, but he doesn’t say that, he just doesn’t really engage. I think there are a bunch of valid reasons to not be into it, tbh. I’ve ordered risotto to go. It’s always kind of gluey and disappointing. Sydney isn’t given a clear no, so she decides to cook it: it becomes something she has to convince him on.

He doesn’t get to try it in this episode as there are drugs to sell and about a million different fires to fight. We know that she dreams about this dish though. In this episode she talks about how thinking about her mistakes with Sheridan Road keep her up at night, but the last images of the episode are of her dreaming: beef… raspberries… cola… fire: there it is. Cola braised short rib. We’re back in the realm of deeply personal creative expression that I spoke about in part two. That anxious energy around failing with Sheridan Road? Is going somewhere else, is being transformed. This is important, and has the potential to be profoundly healing. This dish has meaning for her.

The dish returns in Ceres. Syd is an unstoppable force with the dish, and having said she wants to be listened to, is not listening to several requests from Carmy for more time. Stressful! He deals with it well, at first. He is calm, and polite and asks her to hold on. Which is not a no. But then -

‘I know everybody you used to work for, I called them before hiring you’

oooooh weeee.

There is nothing wrong with him seeking out references. His reasons are logical, and he’s transparent about them. Personally? I think it’s sensible to let employees know you’re seeking out references to avoid paranoia, but it’s not a legal requirement. People do it informally via whisper networks all the time, both purposefully and by accident. Gotta say though, the phrasing and the timing of this ‘reveal’ made me wince.

There are a million different theories of feedback, of how to give and receive it well. One argues that feedback must be asked for, accurate and measurable. If it’s not measurable, then you are nitpicking. If it’s not accurate, you’re hating. If it’s not asked for, or at least delivered in an environment where it’s anticipated, it is unlikely to be received well. Carmy, unfortunately, delivers a whopper of unanticipated feedback here: ‘me and all your old bosses (I know EVERYONE YOU USED TO WORK WITH)have been talking about you and they all agree on this flaw’.

YIKES

Would I let Syd stab me for a bowl of this? Maaaaybe. Maybe.

My reading is that he wanted to ask for her patience, and to say that his decision to pace out the changes is coming from experience, but he’s being backed into a corner, so he summons up the spectre of her old bosses for back up. Syd had opened up last episode, and is still very vulnerable about Sheridan, so he unintentionally wounds her here. We can read this in her response. He says her employers said she was smart, talented, green and impatient, she hears ‘me and everyone you’ve worked for think your business failed because you were green and impatient, that’s why you’re here, and why this dish can’t go on the menu’. This dish is getting entangled in so many other things about where they’ve come from.

He does take the time to reframe it: outlines his practical concerns, and starts to articulate that he wants to maintain calm before they make more changes -

And then Sugar is banging on the door, demonstrating his point.

At this point, Carmy is trying to build a parachute. They don’t have one when Jimmy comes to visit in Hands, but they do have one that becomes Richie’s bail by Braciole. Reserve building takes steady, dull consistency, but this isn’t communicated, and they don’t agree on a timeframe for the menu development, or even to come back to this conversation. This is small stuff, I know I sound nitpicky! But in my experience managing people, tension builds in the unknowns, in the places where there aren’t specifics, especially when you have a team member like Sydney who is ambitious and dynamic.

Sydney is firmly in the realm of the job that Carmy specified here. He is dialling business, she is doing everything else. If you’re a nerd and you zoom in on her CV, she has done menu development before. She is green, but not that green. She is impatient, but she also doesn’t have the same complicated relationship with change at the Beef that pretty much everyone else but Marcus does. The risotto is the first unofficial test of the impact of strain on their (messy ass) working dynamic, to Review’s much more official gauntlet.

Why would they write a proper CV and film it if they didn't want me to spend 5 minutes hitting pause repeatedly until I'd read it?

*squints* designed daily specials with complete creative control! At Alinea! A THREE STAR MICHELIN RESTAURANT! At the time they wrote this, it had held and retained those stars for twelve years! She is not new to this!

Tracing the Journey of the Risotto Two: Unmeasurable

They try again with the risotto later. She is a little more patient, initially. She makes the effort and he thanks her for it. He tries it, which she really wanted (surely that will convince him!), and she has modified her request, from to-gos, to trying it as a special. Her equivalent of baby steps. She listened. She’s trying. Lovely Angel and my main man Ebra come by, taste and support Carmy’s ‘tremendous’.

But here Carmy gives feedback that isn’t measurable. It’s not perfect, but he doesn’t say why, even though he knows, and it’s an easy fix! He’s nitpicking, because he doesn’t, for a bunch of practical reasons, want to put risotto on the menu, but doesn’t want to shoot her down. He asks her if she understands after she has explicitly said that she doesn’t (cus he’s not being up front), and then doesn‘t explain himself. He’s not really asking if she understands, he’s telling her to stop. It’s not really the dish that’s not ready, not really, it’s him, he’s not ready to make a new raft of changes, to think through the gap between the Michelin star excellence he has come from, and the budgetary, practical restrains of where he’s at.

I think this is really fair. Or at least understandable. Carmy just wants to catch a breath, and he has to have oversight on so many different things at once, adding something else to that must feel terrifying. But the way he communicates this shuts down and restricts: he switches the dynamic from one where they listen to each other (which requires that they both explain themselves) to one where he tells and she does. It doesn’t really give her anywhere to go, so her frustration is inevitable and also understandable. Measurable feedback! Clarity. If you don’t want risotto on the menu Carmy, rip the band-aid, and say it, and say why. Get her to work on something that is going to fit with the menu in a different way, in the way that you want, and be clear about the way in which you want to shape it!

He knows he’s not been great here. Carmy apologises for ‘being shitty’ later in the episode (as others have noted, it’s a shit apology) and he also starts his apology with ‘needs acid’ in 1:8. He knows that a lot of Review is to do with this dish.

When Carmy apologises about being shitty later in Ceres, she doesn’t mention that she put the dish out earlier. It’s framed as a little moment of.. if not revenge, then a little something for herself. I think she knows it’s not OK, not really, or she’d have mentioned it, and her face says a lot when she says it’s cool. I’m not a chef, I only ever worked FOH, but my instinct is that its dodgy and it fills me with unease. A grey area. A pop of tension.

Tracing the Journey of the Risotto Three: Hating

Whenever I think about the strikes, I think about the broader ensemble in this show.

The next time the risotto turns up, it’s being mentioned in a review. A lot happens here, so I’m gonna bullet point out all the references, then analyse some of them afterwards. I’m also gonna jump a whole bunch, cus I want to stay tightly focused on the risotto itself, and the dynamic between Syd and Carmy as relates to it:

Ebra reads the review out!

Syd has a lovely, gentle smile for Ebra as he reads it, her whole body relaxes as she taps at the tablet. This validation clearly means a lot to her. Ebra’s dynamic with both Sydney and Marcus is consistently a joy to behold. When he tells her in Dogs that she’s given Marcus a lot of confidence, she glows, and I think it’s something she really needed to hear. He’s subtle about it, but he never makes her life difficult when she implements the brigade. There’s something about the oldest member of the team, reading the review out, a little haltingly cus English isn’t his first language, that doubles down on the love that can be present in the Beef, making it all the more jarring when –

Carmy cuts across this and starts talking about the day’s opening with a ‘stop reading that shit’

Fam ‘that shit’ just described your food as elevated and elegant! In the foodie heaven that is Chicago! In your restaurant which is kind of failing! It’s your team’s first review since you’ve been there! So straight away you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, because what has got his knickers in a twist?

Carmy is justified in being pissed off about Syd’s actions here. What he is not justified in, is not finding a way to celebrate the review itself with his team, who deserve to have this moment. It’s a milestone for them to get some external validation, and the restaurant, quite frankly, needs it. A five star review! Tina squeals with delight when she hears it. Before a new program and a busy shift is the perfect moment to read this out, and go into the work feeling good. A united, gassed up team? Would have killed those to gos.

Sydney is also responsible for this messiness though. In going rogue the episode before, something which could have been about the team becomes about her in a way that is sticky, and it becomes harder to celebrate. It was not her intention, but this is the outcome.

Ebra ignores Carmy

(cus he’s redundant and white JK JK don’t cancel me)

There is a double edged shout out to the team

‘the staff moves are next level’: this is such brilliant, important feedback from a team that has had to weather so much change! Also calls back to Richie: ‘Uh oh, Sydney making moves!’ in the car in Hands.

‘The sandwiches are so delicious as ever, but the standout dish that... that, that encapsulates all, this was the risotto with braised beef. The rice was luscious with a surprising ribbon of brine running through the sauce. The chef obviously knew what she was doing’

THAT REVIEWER IS A SNITCH

Did Syd know that reviewer was a reviewer? I dunno man. Maybe! She’s Chicago born and bred, knows the food scene well. It’s not outside of the realm of possibility that she’d recognise him. Maybe she just wanted some good immediate feedback, while she was feeling shitty! Maybe all she wanted was him to send a message back to the kitchen that’s like tell Syd the risotto was great: the impact of his Review but on a much smaller, less disruptive scale.

I think it’s genuine coincidence, which unfortunately looks… not like that. The thing is: the reviewer being a reviewer isn’t what the issue is. The issue is giving food not signed off by her boss to a customer. She'd have never gotten away with that at the places where she was before. Putting the dish out is going rogue, regardless of who she gives it to. It’s not a team move. If Carmy called in her old bosses for back up, she calls in his potential new customers. Eek. EEK.

Sydney desperately tries to get Ebra to shush, to no avail

(extremely funny work from Ayo, but also he’s pissed, and she either already knows it, or already antipates it – it’s hard to get a read on how long they’ve been in and when they learnt about the review)

‘river of brine, huh?’

Carmy, you little snark!!! This is very much his wheelhouse of expressing displeasure, he loves a little jab to the emotional solar plexus. My reading of his line is that what the reviewer tried and what Carmy tried are different, because if it had a ribbon of brine in it, I think that means that there was enough acid. Syd has two dishes, and she’s specific about Carmy trying one and not the other, so my reading here is that Carmy’s POV is not only did a dish go out of my kitchen without my sign off, but it was different from the dish I was given to try. Wince. Wince, wince, wince.

Sydney and Carmy have a fucking excruciating conversation.

Just the worst.

Carmy is not happy, but feels unable to voice this in a way that seems reasonable: he’s busy and stressed about to-gos, he hasn’t moved past the unreasonable feelings of resentment and annoyance to the clarity which enables you to articulate how you feel and why, and because Syd’s gamble paid off! It’s a net positive for the restaurant so it feels counterintuitive to reprimand her, but there is a conversation they need to have. He really does not want to have this conflict, because it’s complicated, and is, like most big blow outs over something small, about so much more than a plate of risotto. He breezes over the conversation, but you can’t start with that ribbon of brine opener and then tell me shit’s not weird.

Compare this to Brigade, when Sydney is asked what’s up, and she is brave enough and vulnerable enough to be like – here are the things that weren’t OK, here are my expectations, here are my boundaries.

On the other side of the conversation, Sydney knows that she has slipped across a slightly odd boundary, but doesn’t acknowledge this. It’s good he liked it! All’s well that ends well. Right? RIGHT? But if he hadn’t? Very different conversation. It doesn’t matter who he is! He could have been anyone - someone that left a weird Instagram comment later, or someone who didn’t finish the meal and complained. Whatever the case may be, giving it to him unofficially was not an act of partnership, or listening, even if the initial communication was shitty.

She knows she’s overstepped, but she doesn’t apologise and doesn’t acknowledge the specifics of what she’s done wrong, because she does not want to have the conflict that could come out of this either. She seeks affirmations that they are OK rather than trying to actually find out how Carmy feels and why, because at this point she doesn’t really want to hear it. She is seeking this conversation out 20 minutes before open! It’s not the time for a thorny, complex discussion.

Compare this to Brigade. Carmy knows Sydney is pissed, and makes the effort to speak to her, in private, armed with the peace offering of Ebra’s Suqaar. He is very careful in that conversation to ask open questions (‘what’s going on with you? Say more?’) that enable her to respond honestly. He persists despite her having her walls up around the fact that she’s pissed. Sydney does not do this. The power dynamic makes it hard, but still. If she wants the connection needed to power reconciliation, that bravery needs to be in play.

are you sure we can't just power through this with sexual tension?

Sweeps congratulates her and tells her she’ll have to tell her dad

Hope Mr Adamu got a newspaper clipping!

Carmy says the sandwiches are totally different and the reviewer is a fucking hack. Syd looks sad.

This moment is why I opened this essay talking about veal stock. We are back in a moment with a gap between what has been said, and what has been heard. The reviewer said the sandwiches were delicious as ever. That’s not a criticism at all! These are not words that justify being called a hack! Carmy is pissed because the reviewer says they are delicious and they always have been, that Carmy has not improved on the staple that was there before him.

And that shit hurts his ego!

His whole thing was going off to learn ‘how to be better than mom and dad’s piece of shit’. We know he’s changed a bunch of things about the sandwiches. In Hands, Sydney mentions that they’ve switched to market produce, which I’m sure is not unrelated to Richie’s ‘You’ve been here for two weeks and we’ve had money problems for two weeks’ in System. In Carmy’s time there, the bread’s changed, the method for cooking the beef has changed, the way they braise onions has changed.

To that customer? Delicious as ever.It’s not a dismissal, or an insult. It is a reminder that Carmy didn’t have to leave, and go through all he went through, that there was delicious food and skills to be learned and refined without it. We know Michael was a talented chef. Even now, with all of where he’s been, Carmy cannot surpass him or his memory.

The person that does surpass that? Is Sydney. With food his palate did not deem good enough! Sydney who has not had to leave Chicago and her family. Sydney who has found a way to be creatively free, even at The Beef, in ways that Carmy has not really been able to, because his primary concern has to be money. There is understandable resentment here. But there is competition to the way Carmy cooks, something to prove, someone to smoke. There are reasonable feelings here, but some of them are really ugly, too.

Tina describes Syd as Jeff’s friend

This is a strange little line – because we know that Tina respects Syd as a chef at this point, and she doubles down on it later when she asks Syd to teach Louis skills, like she herself has been taught. So why’s it there? My feeling is that it’s there to remind the audience of what Syd and Carmy’s relationship is usually like. I wouldn’t call it friendship, I think they operate in a weird place that defies labels, but they have this synergy which drives the business. Tina evoking that in this moment draws attention to the fact that they are not in that space right now.

He's just got a very sweet face, it's hard for me to believe he's in trouble at school

Richie has a loud, performative conversation with Carmy about many things, but for the purpose of this section, he states that they don’t do risotto, asks if they’re going to, and Carmy definitively states that ‘no, they’re not going to do that’ he also repeats Syd’s phrasing that it was ‘an accident’

She stabbed the wrong ass if you ask me!

Nah, but for real, this is nasty work. I’m gonna come back to it in the next (penultimate!) bit of writing about the Beef, the Bear, Richie & Michael, Syd & Carmy. For now, I will simply say that Carmy is doing up major pass agg here, and it’s nasty to watch. He’s really, really unhappy with her, and he’s struggling to hold it in, so it’s coming out in unhelpful and unpleasant ways that feel like humiliations in front of the whole team, and punishment.

There are really valid reasons for Carmy to be annoyed and to not want to talk about it right now. The problem is that If you don’t create a pressure valve you take responsibility for, you will end up a) exploding instead (lol) and/or b) releasing that frustration in unhelpful and harmful ways.

They move towards this with their ASL sorry in Season Two. But here, Carmy says and implies a bunch of things to Richie that he needed to say explicitly to Syd two episodes ago, and two minutes ago: that he has no intention of putting risotto on the menu, and that he thinks her saying it was an accident was bullshit. He wants Syd to know it’s not OK without the hard, painful work of having to engage in conflict with her. It’s shitty.

Sweet Louis asks what a ribbon of brine is

He seems like a good boy, bring him back!

A BUNCH OF STUFF THAT I WILL WRITE ABOUT NEXT TIME HAPPENS

Richie, Syd and Carmy, it’s delicious (a nightmare).

Syd attempts a second conversation with Carmy – having vented some frustration at Richie, and seeing how her workload is piling up and becoming untenable, she is much more open here. Carmy is not.

She’s blunt – we’re not on the same page. Carmy lies and deflects – we’re good, let’s get through the shift. He has his hands on his hips, with as much of his body turned away from her as possible, during this conversation, and walks off half way through it. Even if everything had gone right, this shift would have been a nightmare for Syd.

Everything is awesome!

The penultimate mention of the risotto is here. There is very little I can say that has not been brilliantly said by eatandsleepwell here - https://www.tumblr.com/hourglassfish/726487509540962304/eatandsleepwell-melonatures-this-one-second?source=share so I’m gonna link it.

That’s the last we hear of risotto for now, other than a quick reference to Syd as an arrogant and condescending ribbon of brine from Richie later. It doesn’t turn up on the tasting menu at the Bear, where it defo feels like a riff on risotto could have replaced one of their pasta dishes. That switch from rice to pasta feels pointed.

Spaghetti

Let’s treat The Beef as a character. If Sydney’s ingredient motif is veal stock, then The Beef’s is that family spaghetti.

Cheap and simple. Fucking delicious. Makes no sense and shouldn’t work, but was somehow the best seller on the menu. Distinctively Italian. Stuffed full of drug money(!). Always, always presented at the table with love, like a gift. You can elevate it if you want, but the fact of the matter is that even at its very best, it’s only gonna hit so hard cus it reminds you of simpler times, like the ratatouille (that is not a ratatouille!) from the movie Ratatouille.

Carmy rejects that meal at the top of the series. It ‘doesn’t make sense on the menu’, so he doesn’t care that people loved it. So far, so EMP. When he starts to cook it in episode one, it feels like a relenting to Richie’s bullying, and him throwing WHAT WE NOW KNOW WAS PROBABLY A FEW THOUSAND DOLLARS in the bin at the end of the episode feels like this exhilarating rejection of mediocrity. They change the lines for System, but in the pilot, Carmy literally cannot make the spaghetti, that last lesson from Michael is a real missing puzzle piece.

In Braciole, when he gets the recipe, he goes to cook it, for family. It’s really nice, that scene, feels comparable to Sydney making omelette. It’s quiet, and Carmy seems content, if wistful. The pork instead of beef panic of earlier is put to the side for now. The previous day, Carmy has gone to Al-Anon and confessed, unburdened himself. Then followed two quiet days and a blue hued night of atonement: he reaffirmed his commitment to Richie, paying his bail and keeping watch all night, gave Tina the night off, apologised to Marcus and acknowledged that his behaviour towards Sydney wasn’t acceptable, as well as speaking to her about her dish, like an adult. Carmy has to do all of this before he finds the money, before he gets the validation that he’s really longing for from his brother.

JAW getting his Emmy, his Golden Globe, his SAG Award, his Bafta, his future Oscar Winning role.

If The Bear at its core is about grief, and the void that Michael’s death leaves, then one of the big journeys of Season One is the subsequent death of the Beef, ready for its rebirth as The Bear in the following season. Review is the short sharp stab to the gut, of Sydney leaving, and taking any hope that it can be reformed as is, with her work. I don’t think the nature of a puncture wound, and the shortness of that episode are unrelated.

Braciole is more of a death rattle: Jimmy’s debt keeping them trapped in shitty work they don’t want to do, situations that spiral out of control and descend into violence, their parachute turned to bail money. But Michael wanted more for his brother than that, and he has left him a foundation. He does not have to burn the place down, there need not be smoke and hellfire. There’s another avenue for rebirth, one where ‘set this place on fire’ does not have to mean an insurance scam, but instead can mean an ignition of all their ambition and dreams.

To get there there has to be an ego death first, a moment of hubris that gets our protagonists fresh, and clean, so they can move to the new. Sydney sees and experiences the worst of herself (more on this in the final part!). Richie gets stabbed (more on this in the next part).

Carmy? Carmy has to encountera crisis where not only could his training not save him but many of the lessons he learnt while he was away and his reasons for going in the first place actively made the situation worse, and those that had faith in him and his preferred system turned away from him, deeply hurt. His ego gets in the way of connection, and it shatters the partnership that he needs to make it all work. He is clinging to old ways of being that has not served him, but he needs to move forward into what is new. And he does.

Well.

He tries.

SMDH

WHEW

Another long one, sorry fam. I’m almost there though. Am I sorry? No, I’m grateful if you read it, and I hope you enjoyed it.

I hope I’m pulling this together coherently, that I’m showing a sort of throughline to the way I view Episode 7. I don’t think Sydney is perfect! I do think her walking out is narratively and politically (the show wants better for the workplaces its drawn from) necessary, and I hate, hate, hate the simplification of that decision to ‘he shouted at her so she bailed’. Please, you can’t think this show is well written and think her decision is as simple as that, it doesn’t make sense. That exit is crafted so that it is inevitable, there is a movie’s worth of build up to it.

We’re looking at Richie, Syd and Carmy next time, fam. I am trying so hard to cut it down cus it’s currently sat at 15,000 words, but I’m gonna try really hard to edit down, OK? I’m gonna try really hard.

I can’t respond but I value reblogs and comments so much!

This is part of a five part series! You can find the rest here:

Expect More: Syd and Carmy's relationship,

I know you'll be listening: Marcus, McDonald's and Freedom

Risottogate

Hiring New Fucking Broads: Syd, Richie and conflict;

"That's Not You" The Moment Syd Walks Out

#the bear #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #the bear meta

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 days

Text

04/27/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Vico Ortiz; David Jenkins; Taika Waititi; Guz Khan; "Rhys Darby"; Fan Spotlight; Big Gay Energy Podcast; Cast Cards; OFMD Colouring Pages; Lesbian visibility week, mini love notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

= Vico Ortiz =

Interested in a voice over workshop with Vico? They've got one coming up May 18th and you can purchase tickets here.

= Guz Khan =

More pics of Guz at his comedy special-- this time from New York! Sad to see him go but his tour in LA/NY is finally over. I've heard so many fans that went and had a great time! Hope you all had fun! It sounded awesome!

== David Jenkins ==

Some lovely photo's out with Chaos dad, Kinga, and family today.

Img Src: Kinga's IG

= Taika Waititi =

Recently Taika took a break from filmmaking/Rita's new hair line promotion for a trip to Bridge Climb in Sydney!

Img Src: BridgeClimb IG

= Rhys Darby =

Okay so this isn't actually a Rhys Darby sighting... well it kind of is. Sam Neill (one of Rhys and Taika's previous co-workers from Hunt For the Wilder People) named his big orange mama cow after our beloved Captain! She just had a new baby! So today's Rhys sighting is quite Moooooving.

Img Src: Sam Neil's IG

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

New Episode of Big Gay Energy Podcast! They're doing a rewatch of OFMD episodes 1-3! Check them out below!

Where to Watch

Where to Listen

= Cast Cards =

Next Spotlight is Arthur Redcloud, one of the Mabo Warriors! Thanks @melvisik for making sure he was included!

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

Today's colouring page by the amazing @patchworkpiratebear is a little more nsfw! Love it!

== Lesbian Visibility Week ==

As Lesbian visibility week comes to a close, just a reminder lovelies that you are visible all year round and we love you <3

Img Src: SophieKathleenn IG

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies, my son has (adorably) sabotaged the recap last night and this morning, he is absolutely not allowing me to be on the computer. So I've put together what I can-- so today I'll be sending some other folks love notes again, sorry about that! Img srcs: A Dose of Reminders IG, Greatness IG

= Daily Darby / Today's Taika =

Today's theme is costumes <3 Gifs courtesy of @fandomsmeantheworldtome and @sevdrag

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #rhys darby #taika waititi #sam o neill #vico ortiz #guz khan #david jenkins #chaos dad

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digenerate-trash · 13 days

Note

River died trying to set up communication with the outside. Dorren and some other teachers and staff died on a patrol. Not sure what happened to Sirris but they are also dead. Winter was fucked to death. Leighton is super dead. Mason is a scout in Whitney’s gang.

these poor teachers man they never stood a chance. of course, they tried. being the "adults" they wanted to organize and keep people calm. keep classes and other groups separate so the students were easier to keep track of and control.

but every fucked kid with a grudge now has nothing to lose now they know they're never going back to their old life.

Leighton dies first. he had the most abhorrent reputation and a pension for praying on not just the vulnerable but the "uninspired" as well.

whitney and his friends are the ones to kill him. it happens fast. way faster than it should have. but from this Whitney's gang forms and he becomes quite the powerhouse. and anyone can join. he just has one rule. no teachers. he can be a better leader than any of them, all it costs is your loyalty and anything you have in your bag and locker.

of course, River is Whitney's next target, but it takes a couple of weeks to convince the students he's watching to abandon River and leave him vulnerable. all Whitney has to do is crush their dreams of getting out of here in one peace. and the job is done within an hour.

Sirris and Sydney are held up in the library and it's going well. they have some loyal students and Sydney's faith comes into play when he's trying to keep everyone calm. Sydney has no problem keeping people entertained and happy but they run out of food pretty fast... Sirris is good at rationing out food but with so many students needing food water clothes and other things he rarely has time to feed himself. he doesn't let Sydney know, but there are signs he's deteriorating... one morning Sirris doesn't wake up and that's when the library is closed to outsiders. Sydney takes a vow of silence and the most loyal of his followers follow suit. no one ever goes hungry in Sydney's faction again.

Dorren is fine until he decides that he needs to be stricter with his group. it doesn't take long for Whitney's scouts to infiltrate the faction and convince them to kill their beloved teacher.

mason is actually fine! hes hanging out with robin and is helping distribute water. he doesn't claim to be in charge and he's mostly protected by robins followers who like him for..... ahem Reasons

#Forgotten Au #what happened to the teachers????#whitney happened

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fantastic-bby · 7 months

Text

Pairing: Reader x Minho

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: Angst | Brother's Best Friend type thing | Non-Idol AU | Breakup AU | Twin Brother!Felix

Plans don't go the way you hoped and you think it's better to be the asshole in the break up for his sake.

Masterlist

[6:40]

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Minho huffs upon hearing your rushed footsteps kicking through the smooth, fine, sand.

He doesn’t make much effort to look away from the ocean even when you mutter an apology, gaze completely fixated to the movement of the waves crashing along and taking in the rhythm that it naturally creates.

Shoes neatly placed beside him, Minho has his legs extended to let the cold water just wash onto his bare feet and calves.

“Overslept,” you say and sit beside him, your own shoes tossed haphazardly beside you to mimic the zen-like position that Minho seems to have put himself in. “When I got downstairs, Felix freaked out and thought that I was a ghost, so he dropped his glass and we had to clean it up.”

“You’re brother’s strange,” Minho states plainly.

“I know.”

Once comfortable on the sand with the water splashing over your legs, you close your eyes and lean backwards with your hands holding you up.

You’ve known Minho for a few years. He moved to Sydney while you were still in high school and quickly became acquainted with your twin brother after meeting for the first time in the school’s dance club.

Not long after that, he became a regular at your house; spending weekends over playing video games or dragging you and Felix out to get McDonald’s because he was hungry. Most nights, though, Minho would try to drag only you out to watch the sunrise at the beach not that far away from the neighbourhood.

The spot soon became somewhat of a date spot for the two of you. The first time he confessed to you was while you were watching the sunrise, when he asked you out, it was at the beach—the first time you gathered the courage to kiss Minho was with the waves crashing behind you like some romantic scene straight out of a drama.

And even after Minho graduated high school and went into university, he still kept his promise of meeting you at the beach almost everyday. It was as if that specific spot on the shoreline was just your place; somewhere that only the two of you shared.

To say that Felix was shocked—and mildly horrified—when he accidentally found the two of you in the middle of a date was an understatement. Your, typically, sweet and sunshine brother had almost gone berserk, calling Minho ‘half a rat’s ass because I’m going to find the rest of the rat and make you whole again’.

Yeah… it didn’t entirely make sense… but the rage was oddly reassuring to you because at least you knew that he had your back. What wasn’t reassuring was the way Felix chased him around the parking lot of the mall for almost an hour, calling Minho all kinds of profanities for even thinking of touching his beloved ‘baby’ twin—because he was born a minute earlier.

The moment’s quiet, serene, as the two of you bask in the comfort of each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed as you lean back on your arms and just take in the beach through every once of your senses; the cold water on legs, the fine sand on your skin, the smell of the beach, and the taste of salt that lingers in the air.

“I’m going back to Korea in three months.”

And your heart drops.

But you can’t say you’re entirely surprised.

“I thought you said you were coming to London with Felix and I,” you claim, turning to him.

“Yeah, but…” Minho trails off, letting out a sigh. “We all knew I was still considering it. I need to go back, (Y/n). But that means that you’re coming with, right?”

He turns to look at you, hopeful. You made a promise saying that wherever he goes, you’d go, too. That included in his decision of whether or not he would go to London or back to Seoul to finish his final year.

But you realised your mistake in making that promise because if you followed Minho to Seoul for university, Felix would have to learn to figure out the challenges of university and a new country all on his own. You can’t find it in yourself to leave him alone in a place so unfamiliar despite knowing that he’s a tough cookie.

Nothing can take down Lee Felix; the man with a heart of gold and a mentality basically built out of steel.

Minho knows that, which is why he wasn’t too surprised when you promised that you would come with him.

“Right… (Y/n)?”

“I—” you cut yourself off and let out a loud sigh of frustration. “You can’t make me choose between you and my brother, Minho,” you say harshly. “I made that promise under the assumption that we would be going to the same place together—the three of us.”

Shock completely paints his features, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief and lips parted. This is the first time that you’ve ever spoken to him this harshly and even you know that.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now,” Minho mutters. “I’m not making you choose. You made the decision on your own—you promised.”

“Yeah! So, I did!” you laugh bitterly. “I’m sorry. I was under the impression that we would’ve gone to London anyway.”

“That’s not fucking fair. You knew that I was torn between going home and going to London. You can’t just pull this shit out of nowhere—do you know how insane you sound right now? You lied to me because you ‘assumed that we were all going to London’? Be fucking realistic, (Y/n),” he scoffs.

“Oh, come on, Minho. Did you really expect that I’d follow you? Felix would be all alone in London! I can’t just leave him!”

“He’ll fucking survive, (Y/n)! He’s not a child—he’s a grown man for fuck’s sake!”

“He’s still my brother!”

“I—” Minho quickly cuts himself off and takes a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he sighs shakily. “You know what? I can’t have this conversation right now” he mutters while shaking his head and standing. He grabs his shoes from beside him and stands, “let’s talk about this later. When we’re calm.”

His effort in still trying to stay calm in order to not accidentally hurt you makes you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to desperately try and stop the tears from breaking through. But you take a deep breath to compose yourself and re-open your eyes.

“We’re over,” you say, trying your best to stay as emotionless as possible, it’s for the best; you think. This way Minho would have a reason to not love you anymore.

He’ll move on faster.

The statement makes Minho halt in the middle of brushing sand off of his pants and he looks at you in disbelief, hurt completely painting his features.

“Is that really how you want to end this? You’re just throwing away those years like it was nothing?” His voice has lowered to a whisper, as though the very thought of it is cursed to say aloud. When you don’t say anything or even turn to look at him, Minho’s voice becomes more pained, “we can talk about this—l-like we always have. Come on…”

He doesn’t make any attempt to get closer, nor does he actually say anything else. All Minho does is stare; eyes boring into the back of your head as you maintain the appearance and stare at the horizon.

“Okay,” he finally says, voice cracking. “If that’s what you want, then okay. Just… if you wanna talk about it in the morning, I’ll still be waiting.”

The way Minho’s voice shakes, the strain in his words, right before his footsteps drag through the sand until they become more distant is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut and letting the tears start to roll.

And when the Sun starts to peak over the horizon, you can’t stop yourself from sobbing at what you’ve just done.

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