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[icml]

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[balancethescales]

thinking about the specific moments where the berzatto family falls in love with sydney (because of course they do, everyone does).

for richie, it takes the end of the beef and right up till the opening of the bear to happen. he is full of contempt and grief when he meets her and all he knows is that when he looks at her face he is afraid. he doesn’t like that feeling. richie is not a man who finds himself fearful a lot, but she is everything he is not and nothing that he is and he hates himself for it. if she is what it means to be passionate, then what is he? is he nothing but an empty shell of mikey, stuck on earth to shake his fist at passing clouds, because how dare they move and continue on like mikey was nothing to them, as if he wasn’t the very point that the earth revolved around? everyone is leaving him behind, and she is proudly leading the pack. it’s not right. but then— he gets it. he talks to garrett and jess and chef terry and he sees sydney in every corner of that restaurant. the fear slowly is replaced with respect as the week goes on and he realizes that just because she’s good doesn’t mean she’s out to get him. that’s the berzatto upbringing in him doing the talking, but it doesn’t have to, because shes a berzatto now, maybe not officially (not yet, but mark his words, she will be) but she is, and that’s not how she does things. so, he lets her lead them into the future to something good and different and better.

for sugar, it’s instant. she was born to a mother who is triggered by her very existence, and it has hurt her all her life. she is full of love and the one person she wants to give it to the most doesn’t want any part of it. she was born to give but is surrounded by those who are afraid to even take it, to reach out their hand and meet her in the middle. and if they cant take then they themselves have nothing to give, so she gets used to being the one who has to force feed her love down their throats, because if no one does, if no one shows them that they are worthy of good things, then they will crumble (“if i just talked to him more—” “no, nat—” “if i had just—” “it’s not your fault, honey. it’s never been.”). but when she meets sydney, it’s like looking into a mirror. she sees her bright eyes and soft smiles and careful but strong hands and instantly recognizes her for what she is: a giver. and sugars heart swells with even more love than she thought possible, because finally, she’s not alone— there is someone else there to slowly, albeit subconsciously, take care of her crumbling family, to show them that despite what their mother may have taught them, its okay to not be okay (she tries her best not to cry when syd asks her if shes okay, but she does. and syd doesnt grab her face or yell at her or call her stupid. she makes her a meal. and sugar cries some more).

for cicero, the love isn’t instant, and it’s not even entirely love. she is strong and she is assertive, but that also makes her naive and a very expensive risk. she makes him curious for what’s to come, intrigued by the way she doesn’t back down from carmy whose voice so often mimics the berzattos that came before him (“you’re better than this, kid.” “i don’t know what i am.” “whatever it is, it’s not this.”). she's self assured and knows her place in the establishment and is unafraid to let people know it. it’s a refreshing change of pace from mikey, who often resorted to intimidation to get his way, or carmy, who’s anxiety envelopes him and distracts him from what’s right there in front of him. but she is not them. she is focused and on track and is willing to put in the work to get what she wants. he doesn’t visit the bear often, only drops by once in a while to deliver bad news or to fulfill a favour or to just enjoy some good food, but when he does, she is always there, dedicated to ensuring that carmy and michaels, and now, her dream stays alive. she is good for his family, and he trusts her to keep the berzatto spirit alive.

for michelle, it’s quite simple. she always looked out for carmy, their little bear, so when she meets her it’s a family thanksgiving party at the bear and syd stumbles out of the kitchen, obviously frazzled and a little sweaty (“carmy, im not ready, i didn’t even change yet and the turk—” “don’t worry, tina will take care of it, you look great, they’ll love you, they just really wanted to meet you—”), but she’s smiling. she’s a little awkward when she introduces herself, and michelle finds herself endeared by her nervous ramble (“it’s, uh, really nice to meet you guys. sorry, i didn’t know that i was going to be pulled out of the kitchen so soon. uh, im sydney. yeah, i guess carmy already told you guys, huh? um. im sorry, how are you related to the family again? i mean, i dont want to offend but it’s just. uh. well, you guys are just very... normal?”) and she’ll laugh and look at stanley and the two of them will think to themselves, good job carmy, she’s a good one, before telling syd something dumb and nonsensical about a genetic mutation and richie interrupts to tell michelle it’s not a genetic mutation it’s called being boring and syd will laugh and michelle will too, truly happy that their little bear found someone normal, a breath of fresh air within the smoke of their family.

for donna, it’s weird. it’s tense. they don’t meet for a long time. they don’t meet at the bear when it first opens and not at the bear even when it has found it’s footing, but by chance. they are somewhere mundane (a grocery store, a park, or maybe just the street) and there is no other family member around when syd meets the berzatto matriarch. she only knows what donna looks like from photos at sugars house because carmys apartment is devoid of any actual sentiment (although that has begun to change since she made him get an actual dresser and he dedicated one of the drawers to her stuff). she calls out to her by her name, and donna turns around startled. she doesn’t recognize syd, of course, who introduces herself and informs her of who she is to the family. when donna smiles it’s not a real one, and syd knows this, but it doesn’t deter her. she tells donna that her kids love her (“even after everything, nat?” “she’s our mother. its all that we can do.”) and that her kids are great (“carmy, you are not broken.” “im a little broken.” “no, listen to me, the fact that you are still here, means something. its something.”) and that there will always be a table for her at the bear (“chef, someones calling in for a reso for 1 but we’re all full up… except for—“ “yo, dont finish that sentence. table 7 for ms. berzatto is an indefinite booking. is that understood?” “yes, chef”). donnas smile fades and her chest fills with anger but just as she’s about to explode in typical berzatto fashion syd interrupts her. she has faced the bear many a time before and has handled herself with grace and dignity everytime, so this is no different. she smiles brightly and thanks donna for listening to her and hopes she considers coming in, because she’d really like to cook for her. she looks like she needs a good meal. she deserves one. she turns and walks away. donnas stomach growls. that night, table 7 is occupied for the first time since the bear opened its doors.

and carmy? well, there isn’t an exact moment. its a culmination of awkward partnership (“i don’t want to be shitty.” “okay, then dont be.”) and flawless teamwork (“the menu needs—” “already on it, chef.”) and nights unwinding at the bar down the street (“of course you drink an old fashioned.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “nothing, it’s just very… tortured-chef-from-the-slums-of-chicago of you”) and spontaneous phone calls just to hear the others voice (“why are you whispering?” “i… don’t know. my dads home. its a habit.” “you’re 27.” “and you’re white, you wouldn’t get it.”) till they’re just inseparable (“cousin, wheres carmy?” “with syd, duh.” “why'd i even ask?”). and then, sydney and carmen become something else. something tender and sweet and terrifying and beautiful all mixed together into… something. there’s no word for what they have. but it feels so right; to the guests who taste their food and recognize that the hands who put it together are full of love and care; to the staff at the bear who see the unspoken communication, the lingering touches, and their soft eyes that seem to always be on the other; to the berzatto family who notice that carmy looks a little brighter, and shakes a little less. yes, its love, but its so much more. it’s syd and carmy. it always has been, and always will be.

(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)

(and it’s unspoken, but everyone knows that michael would’ve loved her too. i mean, she’s sydney fucking adamu, she conquered the bear. how could anyone not love her?)

[nolita-fairytale]

j is for james beard... and for jealousy | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

pairing: jealous boyfriend!carmy x female!reader 

word count: 7.4k

summary: after sydney takes home a big win at the james beard awards, you and your boyfriend carmy run into an old rival for a fiery, chaotic, and surprisingly sexy night. companion piece to 'make my heart surrender' but can be read as a standalone oneshot.

warnings: 18+ chapter, minors dni: lots of swearing, p*rn with a plot, smut, p in v unprotected sex (reader is using hormonal birth control in monogamous relationship), praise kink, rough jealousy sex

a/n: how dare I drag poor james beard into this hetero nonsense?! anywayssss surprise i'm back because i keep having ideas for these two. maybe one day i'll just write a carmy x reader piece that doesn't include this character but for now... please enjoy this literal porn with a plot. also: let's all agree that toxic jealousy is a red flag in relationships, however, i wanted to work with a scenario where carmy would perhaps be more sexually assertive.

“I look ridiculous,” Carmy had grumbled earlier that day, at his reflection in the mirror. 

He had never felt like himself while wearing a suit. Sure, he would spend time, effort, and money into finding the perfect vintage denim jacket, but a suit? He’d much rather be behind the scenes, in his chef whites, instead of this. 

“You look…” you’d countered him, emphasizing the word ‘look’. “...hot, Carmen.”

He’d given you somewhat of a half smile in response – flattered by your comment, and also unconvinced you hadn’t just said in an attempt to get him out of the house. 

Or out of obligation. 

Because he’s your boyfriend. Because you’ll say anything to get him out for Syd’s big night. Because you love him. 

Carmy had never gotten used to the whole celebrity aspect of the food world – especially his own. These award ceremonies were always an uncomfortable reminder that he never quite felt like he fit in. 

“Do you think Syd would kill me if-?” Carmy had asked, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Baby, Sydney is counting on us… and she and I will both kick your ass if you don’t get in the car,” you’d cut him off, because there was no way in hell he was getting out of this. With a scowl on his face, you’d dragged him down the stairs and into your Uber. 

And that’s how he ended up here, at the James Beard award ceremony on a Sunday night, as you all wait anxiously for the announcement. While the restaurant hadn’t been open long enough to be nominated and was actively in a state of ‘working out the kinks,’ Carmy’s celebrity in the food world had brought in a lot of press. Ever since Sydney and Carmy had become partners in the reopen, he had been more than happy to let her take center stage. When the nominations were announced, and Sydney was on the list, he was ecstatic for her. Truthfully, it was a relief that she seemed to do much better with all the stuff he wasn’t crazy about: press, interviews, the spotlight. 

“Wake me up when this snoozefest is over,” Richie mumbles trying his best to pretend he’s not having a good time. You snort, shooting Richie a look, because you know it’s one of the most exciting nights he’s had in a while. 

Besides Carmy, who wouldn’t want to get all dressed up to go to a fancy party and celebrate Sydney?

You’ve somehow managed to corral the core staff of The Bear here this evening. The entire restaurant had been abuzz when the nominations were announced, and talks of who would get stuck at the restaurant the night of the award ceremony had already begun. It was an easy decision to close the restaurant for that night, so that everyone who wanted to could attend. 

Your life here is better than you ever imagined it could be. Working your ass off in a kitchen that you love has been invigorating. It’s helping you fall in love with the process all over again. You suspect that your time in fine dining had, perhaps, run its course even before you quit your last job. Back then, here is what you’d longed for on the days you felt your most lost. You love being a teacher; you love mentoring Marcus. He’s got a desire to learn that never quits, and it inspires you day in and day out. But most importantly, you’re head over heels in love. You’re so deeply in love with Carmy that sometimes, you wonder what took the two of you so long to pull the trigger.

Tonight is no different. You’re surrounded by people you adore more than anything  – people you’ve been in the trenches with during a dinner service from hell, people you’ve laughed your ass off with after a round of drinks outside of the restaurant – and you’re all here to celebrate someone who’s become a close friend of yours. It’s just another reminder – another sign from the universe – that you made the right decision.

And you’re sure Sydney is going to win. 

You’re not sure how you know. 

You can just feel it. 

Sydney sits between Carmy and Marcus, and you’re seated in between Carmy and Richie. You notice Carmy’s leg is bouncing up and down impatiently as he anticipates the next category of awards. Even though you know these big social events put Carmy on edge, you know he’s really just nervous for her. 

“And the winner… for the James Beard Rising Star award of 2023…” the announcer, esteemed chef Mashama Bailey begins, grabbing the attention of the entire room. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and Carmy continues to fidget nervously. You reach across Carmy’s lap, grabbing Sydney’s hand and giving it a squeeze of reassurance. Sydney holds on to you, and while you’re sure she might cut off your circulation from squeezing so tightly, you don’t mind. You’re all on the edges of your seat. 

“Sydney Adamu of The Bear!”

You and Carmy are cheering as loudly as you can, while Richie jumps to his feet letting out a loud ‘whoop.’ A chorus of ‘that’s right,’ ‘she won!’ and ‘c’mon syd’ echoes through Tina, Gary, and Ebra and Manny, while Angel is already on his feet taking a video of the crowd. Everyone is cheering so boisterously you’re not sure it’ll ever stop. 

“You won, Syd!” you yell over the loud claps and cheers, giving her hand one more squeeze. She rises, letting go of your hand, you and Carmy both following to give her some space to walk through the aisle. 

“Let’s go, Syd! That’s right. That’s right,” Marcus calls out loudly, jumping to his feet with Richie and earning a few looks from the people sitting to the right and left. 

“Congratulations, chef,” Carmy whispers, as she passes him by. You watch as Marcus ushers her over to the aisle so that she can go up to the stage while Angel films the whole thing on his iPhone. Carmy has the proudest look on his face, the tip of his nose the lightest blush pink, and you’re beaming as you watch your friend make her way towards the stage of the opera house. 

“Remember when this was you?” you whisper to Carmy, catching his attention. 

“Tonight everything changes for her,” Carmy replies, grinning from ear to ear. 

“For the both of you,” you add. “For all of us.”

The night he won the rising star award put him on the map. While you hadn’t known Carmy at the time, you’d heard about him in those early days of both of your careers. Carmy had risen so quickly through the ranks that by the time you met him, he was only a few weeks away from his promotion to CDC at the old restaurant. Not only did this put Sydney on the map, but it was better press for The Bear than anyone could ask for. 

“Congratulations, baby,” you say, kissing him on the cheek. He just shoots you a look, the pride evident in his eyes, before wrapping his arm around you and holding you close. 

~

“I just wanna say,” Richie begins, having garnered the attention of your group. You’re all huddled in a circle at the reception, champagne flutes in everyone’s hands. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye…” Richie toasts, earning a few looks and side comments from your team. “And don’t forget about that time you stabbed me… but even if this brings a bunch of fuckin’ strokes to the restaurant, we’re so fuckin’ proud of you.” 

“To Sydney, who’s… what does Carmy say… changed the chemistry and who is the heart of this restaurant,” Ebra adds on. 

Tina smiles proudly, raising her glass to Sydney. It brings a smile to your face to see her all dressed up too. 

“Syd, I don’t know where the hell we’d be without you,” Carmy continues, raising his glass. 

“Cheers to you, Sydney!” you say, clinking champagne glasses, before taking your first celebratory drink as a team. 

It doesn’t take long for your group to break off into smaller ones – making comments about how out of place you all feel at this fancy of an event. Richie’s wrapping an arm around Carmy’s shoulder, ushering him to a side conversation – something about ‘lizards this’, and ‘the working class that.’ 

“So how do you feel?” you ask, turning towards Sydney, taking a moment to quietly congratulate your friend. 

“I think I’m still in shock,” she sighs in relief, earning a chuckle from you. 

“Well, I’ll cheers to that. You know. To calm the nerves,” you joke, raising your glass once more. 

“To liquid courage,” she agrees, clinking glasses with you again, as you both decide just to finish off your flutes of champagne. 

“Can I get you another drink?” you offer, placing your now empty champagne 

“Oooo can you get me one of those fancy themed cocktails I saw at the bar earlier?” Sydney replies, excitedly. 

“Anything for you,” you say back. 

“And when you’re back, I think I saw Carla Hall has a tasting table here so we should make our rounds,” Sydney mentions, because there’s no way either of you are missing out on the fact that the best chefs in the world are cooking in this room right now. 

You nod in agreement, heading to the bar to get both you and Sydney a new round of drinks. 

“What can I getcha?” the bartender asks. 

You glance at the menu, deciding on your go-to, a gin and tonic, and then one of the featured cocktails of the evening that Sydney mentioned, knowing she’s a tequila drinker. You wait at the bar for your drinks, knowing the fancy mezcal cocktail you just ordered for Sydney will take a little bit of a time to make. 

“I was wondering when I’d run into you,” you hear a voice say, grabbing your attention. It’s a familiar voice that you were really hoping you’d never have to hear again. 

“Funny, because I was hoping to avoid you,” you quip back, turning to the man who’s just joined you at the bar. His bravado alone is enough to earn an eye roll from you and you can feel your guard going up. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, unable to hide the disdain in your voice. 

“You haven’t heard?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face that you just want to slap off of it. 

“I don’t make it my business to keep up with you, Walker,” you shoot back, using his last name as a formality, completely unamused by his question.

“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he croons, a flirtatious low chuckle rumbling out of his chest. 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes for the second time in the last two minutes, as you thank the bartender who’s just come back with your gin and tonic. You raise the glass to your lips, getting a head start since now, you definitely need this drink. 

“Moved to LA. Took a CDC position out there. Besides, after you left… New York was… getting boring,” he explains, playing it cool. He drops the name of the well-respected LA restaurant that he’s running now in an attempt to impress you, which only seems to piss you off further. 

You scoff in response. If you weren’t waiting on Sydney’s drink, you’d be long gone by now, but as you watch the bartender burn a sugar cube, you wonder how damn long it takes for a fucking mezcal drink to be made. 

Maybe if I’ll just ignore him, he’ll fuck off, you think to yourself.

“You know, I was surprised to hear you moved to Chicago. Left without saying goodbye. Then again, should’ve known…” he provokes, continuing his very one sided conversation. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nate?” you snap, turning your head to him, instantly regretting giving him the attention he’s so desperately seeking.

He raises an eyebrow, before nodding towards Carmy as a reply. Your gaze follows, and you can tell that Carmy’s noticed who you’re talking to at the bar. 

“It’s a small world. Word gets around. People talk.”

But you’re not listening to him, your eyes fixed on Carmy. Carmy sends a look of concern your way, but you nod back to him as if to say ‘all good.’ You can hold your own here. Nate watches carefully, noticing the look you share with Carmy across the room. He was always a detail oriented son of a bitch. 

“Classic golden boy,” Nate sighs, the envy in his voice giving him away. 

“Don’t you think your little one sided rivalry with Carmy is getting a little old?” you laugh dryly. 

“One sided?” Nate asks back, taking a step towards you. 

“Yeah, one sided,” you repeat, standing your ground. Now way in hell you’re going to let this asshole back you up. “Because if I recall correctly, he never indulged you in your silly little games.”

Nate laughs again, taking another step towards you that makes you increasingly more uncomfortable. 

“If that’s how you remember it.”

“Oh grow up.”

“Not when golden boy gets everything I want.”

“You’re so full of shit!” you exclaim, finally taking a step back. “Carmy’s had to work for everything he’s achieved. You and I both know that.”

“How do you think he’d feel,” Nate starts, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to sound seductive or intimidating – neither of which are working on you. “... if he knew about what happened between us? After he left New york? It was… what? A week, maybe two, before you jumped into bed with me?”

“Carmy knows I’m not a thing to be had, Nate,” you seethe, glaring at him. 

The bartender returns with your second drink finally. 

“You sure about that?” Nate smirks, reaching out to touch you. 

What a fucking asshole. 

“You’re disgusting,” you seethe, jerking your arm away from him. You take both of your drinks, and you can’t get out of there fast enough. 

“It was great catching up,” he calls after you, cockily. 

“Can’t say the same,” you say, not even turning to look back at him. 

You return to your group, holding in your fury. It’s Sydney’s big night and you’d much rather focus on that than the asshole of an old coworker you can’t fucking stand. You try to shake off the interaction, deciding it’s not even worth expending energy on. 

“What the hell was that all about?” Sydney asks, having witnessed your tenuous interaction with the man you called Nate. She thanks you as you hand her her new drink. 

“Absolute trashcan of a human. We used to work with him. In New York,” you said, letting out a puff of flustered air. 

“Okay but… that was weird right?” Sydney questions, seeing that this guy’s clearly gotten under your skin.

“Totally. He’s a piece of shit. He and Carmy always had this weird rivalry but it was mostly on his end. I… also may or may not have made the dumbest mistake ever once upon a time and slept with him… like… over a year ago,” you confess, feeling just a little bit guilty about it. 

“Noooo,” she replies, her eyes widening. “You slept with that guy?”

“Yeah,” you answer, regretfully. “Not one of my finest moments. Long story short: right after Carmy left New York to come back here, I got a little too drunk with some coworkers. I was really sad and it was stupid, and uh, he was… let’s just say more than happy to play the part of a good listener.”

“Can’t imagine that guy being good, or a listener, let alone both at once,” Sydney replies, seeing the negative effect he’s had on you in one conversation.

“Yeah, It was a stupid fucking mistake and I regretted it the next morning. If you can believe it, he got even more insufferable when he realized it would never happen again,” you tell her, shaking off the bad taste in your mouth the conversation left you with. 

“Yo,” Carmy says, hesitantly. He can tell that you’re pissed after your conversation at the bar. “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, honestly. “Just Nate Walker being a fuckin’ asshole. But what’s new?”

“Hey Syd! Let’s go grab a bite,” Marcus calls to her. 

“You guys mind?” she asks, looking from you to Carmy. 

You shake your heads ‘no’, and honestly, you’re glad it gives you a little time alone with your boyfriend. You watch as Sydney leaves with Marcus to make the rounds, leaving you and Carmy alone. 

“Haven’t heard that name in a while,” Carmy starts, bringing Nate up again. He can feel his face beginning to heat up as he asks you about it. 

“Yeah.”

“Biggest jackoff in New York City.”

“Well, apparently he’s LA’s problem now.”

“Fucko,” Carmy says, shaking his head at the memory of his pain in the ass sous. He can’t figure out why seeing Nate talk to you near-sent him into a blind rage, but you’d reassured him that you were good so, he let you hold your own. 

“Seems like he had a lot to say to you.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” you reply dryly. 

“After that I think I need a shower. Or a bath of bleach.”

Carmy lets out a small laugh, releasing some of the tension he, unknowingly, was holding in his body. 

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about Nate,” you say, changing the subject. 

It’s not that you feel weird about it – that you’d feel weird telling Carmy about what happened between the two of you – but it just feels so small and insignificant in the face of the love that you have with Carmy. 

“Good, me either,” Carmy exhales. 

Another release in pressure. 

He wonders if he’d been this tense all night, or if seeing you with Nate had managed to piss him off this much. 

“You wanna dance?” you ask him, a mischievous smile on his face. You offer a hand out to him. 

“Baby, you know I don’t dance,” he states, matter of factly. 

“I know. But I do,” you say, with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

“One dance,” he warns, earning a triumphant smile from you.

He takes your hand, prompting you to put your drink down on the table where you’re all posted up at. Carmy shakes his head, surprised that you’ve coaxed him this far out of his comfort zone. As he pulls you into his arms, you giggle, wrapping yours around his neck and sway to the loud music in the background. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks you with such genuine love in those beautiful blue eyes of his. 

He thinks you look like a goddess – could be the dress, but he’s pretty sure it’s you. Your hair is shorter now than it was a few months ago and lays in the softest, most gentle waves, parted perfectly down the middle. He hasn’t stopped staring at cherry red-painted lips all night, and every time he gets a peek of your legs through the high slit in the dress you’re wearing, he swears he short circuits. 

Not to mention the low neckline. He’d watched you tie the top of the dress into a plunging neckline, and had to hold back his ask for you to cover up. It’s not that he cared about what you wore. But if he hadn’t been going to therapy over the last few months, he might feel some kind of way about anyone else getting to see any part of your breasts – anyone but him. 

“A couple of times… but I won’t be mad about hearing it a few more, Bear,” you grin, leaning into him. 

He smiles at your use of his childhood nickname. Back in New York, he’d kept it from you. It was just a reminder of what he’d left behind: his psycho mom, a nightmare of pain from his psycho-fucked-up family, how much it hurt when Mikey cut him out. But now, he loves the way it sounds coming from your lips, your voice the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. While he knows it’s taken him a long time to let you in, he’s glad he has. Whether it be at the restaurant or at the home you share together, you’ve become one of the most consistent things in his life. 

The rest of the night is almost perfect. It’s filled with dancing, catching up with coworkers and friends in the culinary world, and most importantly, a celebration with your chosen family. That is, until you hear Sydney swear halfway across the room, catching the attention of you and Carmy both. 

Carmy’s looking past you to where Nate is towering over Sydney at the bar. If looks could kill, he’s pretty sure Nate would be dead by now. 

“Is that Nate again?” Carmy asks, his face pink as he feels a rush of blood flow throw him. 

You can see that Sydney is practically in the same place you were an hour ago. You watch as he steps in front of her, practically blocking her in between him and the bar. 

“I don’t like this. We should go over there,” you say with a sense of urgency. 

Carmy agrees, and Richie and Marcus, who you’re currently conversing with, follow close behind. 

“Okay. You need,” Sydney warns, her voice deliberate, like a rattlesnake giving one last warning before it strikes. “... to back… the fuck up.” 

His response is even worse, causing a fire to burn in your belly as you overhear what he says to Sydney. 

“Oh come on,” he coos, forcing himself closer to her. “I’m just trying to have a little fun.”

Sydney takes another step to the side, trying her best to escape him and holding her hands up as a barrier while you charge at him. Your sudden movement attracts his attention, giving Sydney the out that she needs. You put both of your hands on his chest, shoving him away from her as you shout. 

“She said ‘no.’ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Nate’s got such a smug, satisfied smirk on his face that, if you weren’t in a room filled with the best chefs in the world, you’d actually punch it right off of him. Carmy follows you, protectively standing behind you. 

“Jealous?” he asks, amused. His eyes flicker over to Carmy, whose face is beginning to heat up, turning a brighter shade of red by the moment.  

“In your dreams, asshat,” you spit back. 

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” he says, completely satisfied as Carmy’s fist clenches. He’s clearly enjoying just how much he’s getting under his old boss’ skin. 

You feel Carmy step towards him, but you turn to him, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him, “Bear, it’s not worth it.”

“Did you tell him?” Nate asks you, with the intention of stirring the pot. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, shaking your head in absolute disbelief. 

“Tell me what?” Carmy asks you softly. 

“How does it feel, golden boy? To know that the one thing you always wanted… I got to first,” Nate sneers, a threatening sound in his voice. He looks from you to Carmy, assessing the damage. 

Before Carmy can say anything, it’s you who lurches towards NAte, and Carmy’s wrapping his arms around you to hold you back. You can feel the tension in his arms as he holds you against his chest protectively. 

“Okay this motherfucker is just asking for it,” Richie seethes, charging towards Nate. 

“Richie, don’t!” Sydney shouts, shooting him a ‘please don’t make a scene’ look. 

It takes all of Richie’s self control to stop himself. He nods to her, holding up his hands as a surrender. He begins to take a few steps back as your uncomfortably public standoff continues. 

Sydney has retreated back so that she stands side by side with Marcus, while Carmy’s loosened his grip on your waist. 

By the look on Nate’s face, you can tell he thinks he’s gotten away with it all, as he looks around at all of you one last time. 

“You all have a goodnight,” he smirks, before taking his drink and slithering away. 

You could care less where to. You’re just glad he’s gone. 

You watch as he goes before checking in with Sydney, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. Marcus is by her side in an instant and you can see Carmy’s jaw twitching with anger. “Can’t believe you used to work with that guy. Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah, fuck that guy,” Richie agrees under his breath. 

“C’mon. Let’s just…” Marcus encourages quietly, nodding to your table. 

Richie, Marcus, and Sydney all make their way back to your group as you stay with Carmy. His face is red and you can see it on his face that he’s still processing what just happened – what Nate said. You can see the gears turning in his head, and he’s staring at the floor, his face still cherry tomato-red.

“Carmy,” you say, ripping him from his thoughts. 

He looks up at you, his face softening the minute you make eye contact. 

“Can we go somewhere? Talk?” he asks, trying not to look like he’s going to burn the fuckin’ place down. 

You agree with a nod, taking his hand and leading him elsewhere. 

The further away from the reception you go, the quieter the party gets, and the louder your thoughts get. Would he be mad? You were furious with Nate for trying to use what happened to get under Carmy’s skin, but you also wonder if he’s mad at you too. For sleeping with Nate? For not telling him? But was it something you were supposed to tell him? It’s not like you expected him to tell you about every person he’d ever slept with. 

Carmy finally stops, leading you into a quieter room, far away from the party. As you flick the lights on, it looks like a single dressing room for the plays performed here. The silence between the two of you is deafening, and it’s not just because it’s the first quiet moment you’ve had together since you arrived. 

“I’m not mad… about Nate… about what he said,” Carmy says, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

He’s trying his best to sound convincing, reassuring even, but he’s sure he’s doing a shit job. 

You’re surprised, so you just take him in, searching his face for any clue that he’s telling that truth. His face is red, and you can see a tightness running across his chest as he’s looking for the courage to ask:

“But why didn’t you tell me?” 

You sigh, unsure of what to say. 

“Because…” you begin, hoping that if you just start talking, you’ll find the right words to explain. “I-, I didn’t think I had to. It happened once and it was a stupid mistake with… a lot of tequila involved.”

“You had just left New York and I was lonely. I didn’t say anything because… it didn’t mean anything to me, Bear.”

He listens, taking your explanation in, his eyes fixed on the floor again. He’s not mad at you, but he can’t seem to shake this feeling of anger – this tension that has him wanting to punch a hole through the wall. 

“I don’t like what he fuckin’ said to you,” he finally blurts out. 

“That- that he thinks he can just say whatever the fuck he wants. That he forced himself on Syd like that, like he can-.”

Carmy looks down at the floor again, his words trailing off. 

He’s pissed. 

You can tell he’s pissed. 

But you have a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that says something else is going on. 

Is Carmy… jealous?

“Carmy, I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you apologize softly. “He shouldn’t have-, I mean he really is the worst fucking person to ever walk-.”

“I’m not upset about-,” he interrupts, firmly. He holds your gaze, trying to give you the most reassuring look he can. “I don’t care about-. I just… I don’t like the way he talked to you.”

You wait as he stews on his thoughts, his anger simmering as he sorts through his feelings. It’s like watching a hot pot of water come to a boil. 

“I didn’t like seeing him touch you earlier like-.”

Let it rip.

“Like he can just put his hands on anyone he-. On you! I–.”

And then finally he explodes with, “I just fuckin’ hate that guy!”

It’s as if the pressure valve has been released as he lets out a big puff of air. While you can see it’s given him some relief, you’re still not sure what you’re supposed to offer at this moment. 

“Carmy, what can I- hmmph?” you begin to ask, before being cut off by his lips on yours. 

Well this isn’t what you were expecting.

Your head is spinning as your boyfriend kisses you with such passion, fervor, and urgency. He’s crashing his lips against yours at a desperate pace, and it’s all tongues and teeth and his hands are grabbing the back of your head, tangling into your hair. You’re not sure how you’ve gone from trying your best to hold space for your boyfriend’s feelings, to him pressing you up against the dressing room counter.

You gasp as he hoists you up onto the counter, pushing his body into yours. 

“Carmy, are you-?” you ask, feeling the tent that’s already formed in his pants as you wrap your legs around him. 

There’s a confident assertiveness he moves with, and as much as you hate to admit it, this is all turning you on.

“Hate that fuckin’ guy,” Carmy murmurs into your skin, as he begins to leave kisses down your jawline. 

His mouth moves urgently down your neck, to your shoulders, to the exposed skin the plunging neckline of your dress reveals. His teeth leave light pink and purple marks in their wake, and you’re gasping, moaning, grabbing at any part of him you can hold on to. Little love bites begin to appear, but when he’s making you feel this good, you could care less. 

He’s confident in the way he sucks little marks into your skin, biting down then immediately soothing the pain with his tongue. As he works his mouth over you, he looks up at you, his eyes wide, pupils blown out in pure desire, and it takes your fucking breath away. 

Pain and pleasure.

Just to show the whole world that you’re his. 

 “Thinks he can fuckin’ look at you. Put his fuckin’ hands on you,” he mumbles against your skin. His mouth has reached the lowest point of your plunging neckline as he stands up, pushing himself against you between your legs. 

“Baby,” you breathe out. You make a mental note to unpack why his sudden possessiveness has you so hot and bothered with your therapist next week. 

“I really, really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Carmy drops to his knees, stripping off his suit jacket and throwing it elsewhere. The sight has you absolutely drenched and you think you may cum just from looking at him. 

“You’re mine,” is all he says, eliciting another moan from you as he sinks his teeth into the soft supple skin of your calf. You slide a heel-covered foot over his shoulder, as his lips begin trail up your calf, to your knee, to your inner thighs…

“Yes. I’m yours,” you breathe out, exasperated by Carmy’s sudden forwardness. You lean back, your head hitting the mirror with a thud. “All yours.”

He works his way up your thighs, leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs while his hands disappear underneath the skirt of your dress, frantically searching for your panties. 

“Carmy, I don’t know if we have time for-,” you gasp, as he pulls away for a moment. 

His curls are unruly from running your fingers through them, his lips swollen from the passionate makeout you started only moments ago. You feel his fingers hook underneath the top of your panties and he looks at you like he can see right through you. Holding your gaze, it’s impossible to not get lost into his ocean blue eyes you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. He takes his sweet time, teasing you, refusing to break eye contact, as he pulls your panties down your legs at an unbearable slow pace. 

You don’t look away. 

You don’t dare look away. 

Finally, finally, he breaks eye contact, sliding your panties over your feet, and putting them into his pocket as you brace yourself for what comes next. 

“We should-,” you start, your words ceasing instantly as he spreads your legs, licking a stripe up your dripping wet core. You cry out loudly, panicking almost instantly, because you don’t remember locking the damn door. 

We should stop. 

Do this elsewhere. 

Lock the door. 

Keep quiet. 

But you can’t seem to get the words out, as you let out another loud moan, and Carmy doesn’t have the heart to stop you. Something primal inside of him wants nothing more than for the whole party mere hallways away to hear you crying out his name. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue through your folds. “Already so wet for me and I’ve barely even put my mouth on you.”

He wonders if there’s an award for this. 

Lifetime Loser Award.

2023’s Most Jealous Boyfriend

Chef Most Likely to Fuck His Girlfriend During the James Beard Reception Because He’s a Sad, Jealous Fuck.

“Carmy, please,” you beg, scooting your hips off the counter and pulling him up from the ground. Your demand rips him from his own self deprecating thoughts. 

“I need you inside of me. Now.” 

You need him.

“Turn around,” is all he says. 

He’s not sure where he gets the confidence for such a demand and it has you clenching around nothing. 

You’re more than happy to oblige as you whisper out a ‘yes,’ and turn yourself around to face the mirror. You can hear the sound of him unzipping his pants, then he’s hiking up the skirt of your dress once more. He puts his hands on your hips to steady you – maybe even to steady himself – and you can feel the head of his cock running through your folds. 

Just when you think you may die if you don’t get what you want, you let out the loudest cry you think has ever come out of your mouth as he pushes inside of you. You gasp, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you feel him shudder against your back. Your head hangs low, just focusing on memorizing how every single inch of him feels inside of you.

Carmy’s thrusts are slow at first, deep and deliberate thrusts burying himself all the way to the hilt. The sight of his cock disappearing inside of you is really testing his patience here as he thinks he may go insane. 

Back out. 

Then back in. 

“You’re so fuckin’ wet. So fuckin’ perfect for me. God, I love being inside of you,” he groans, enjoying his last few slow and deep thrusts. 

He’s got one hand on your hips and the other, wrapped around your waist. As he begins to speed up the pace of his thrusts, the hand around your waist goes to the counter too, to brace himself. 

“Carmen,” you moan his name, as he starts to go faster. “Yes. Perfect for you. Only you.”

Only you. 

Your words cause him to smirk, and the sounds you’re making only encourage him to keep fucking into you like he means it. 

“Look at yourself, baby,” he says, his words causing you to squeeze around him. He groans, his eyes rolling back, before he returns his gaze to the mirror. 

When you lock eyes, it’s like you’ve been set on fire. Your skin feels hot, and the prolonged eye contact has you squeezing around him as you start to grind against him. You feel lightheaded, breathless, purely at his mercy. 

Carmy holds your gaze through the mirror and you want to commit this photo to memory. You watch your reflections in the mirror, seeing your face change as he speeds up again. His hands are everywhere: in your hair, grabbing you breasts, tracing over the little marks he’s left all over your chest.

 “This how I make you feel? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel,” he asks, and you think this is the most vocal he’s been during sex.

“So good, Car,” you’re panting. He grabs a handful of your hair, guiding your head to the side so that he can kiss you. You manage to continue your praise in between wet, sloppy, and desperate kisses, and desperate thrusts between the both of you.

“So fuckin’ good. So high. Like I’ll never come back down.”

He’s satisfied with your answer, feeling more and more confident with each thrust. You can tell he likes it, so you decided, why the hell not?

“You feel incredible inside of me, baby,” you continue, wanting nothing more than to appease him. 

He’s swallowing your moans in his mouth, as he continues to fuck you, your pushing your ass back against him, your hands bracing against the mirror. You see stars as he hits that spot inside of you – the one that makes you let out a sob – and he’s bending you over the counter so that he can find that spot again and again. Carmy presses his forehead against your shoulder as his hands move underneath your skirt once again, rubbing fierce circles around your clit, trying to take you there with him. He knows he won’t last long when you’re moaning his name like that. He looks up for a moment, enjoying the reflection in the mirror a little too much, before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, feeling himself get closer… closer…

You can feel he’s close too, so you say something, something you know will bring him over the edge. 

“Want you to cum inside of me.”

“That what you want? Want me to fill you up? Have me dripping down your legs when any other fucko tries to talk to you tonight. Tries to even fuckin’ look at you…” he asks, his breath ragged and sentences becoming increasingly choppy. 

He's leaving little kisses and bite marks all over your upper back as he continues to fuck you.

“Yes,” you pant, moaning his full name once again. 

“Fffffffuck, baby. That’s so hot,” he stutters, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He grabs a handful of your ass, chasing his high with you. 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut so hard you see stars when he finds that spot again, and you remember that he wanted you to watch. You blink open your eyes, breathless as you take in the image of your boyfriend fucking you from behind. He’s got his forehead resting on your shoulder. You feel the delicious contradiction of pain and pleasure once again, as he sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, in the same place from before.

So close. And you're already so tender.

“Carmen. Yes. Right there. Please, baby. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you’re crying out as you as your walls clamp down around him. It’s like an explosion erupts inside of you and you feel that you perhaps are on another fuckin’ plane of existence from the way he makes you feel. 

Your eyes close again as he fucks you through your orgasm, taking you higher and higher. The way your walls are squeezing around him have him on edge and he gives you one, two, and then a third thrust before painting your walls with his release too.

He stops, resting his head on your back again, still buried all the way inside of you.

Both of your heavy pants fill the room, before you interrupt the status quo with a laugh. 

“Holy shit, babe,” you finally say, exasperated and completely fucked out.

He pulls out of you, and you have to put a hand down on the counter he just bent you over, for balance as you stand up straight. You can hear Carmen pulling his pants back up and you’re adjusting your dress as you turn to look at him. His eyes are fixed on the button of his trouser pants, as you grab his face for another long, lust-filled kiss. 

“What do you say… to getting out of here? Maybe continuing this at home?” you propose, your voice hoarse from what you’ve just done. Your forehead is still pressed to his and you want nothing more for him to say ‘yes.’ 

“Fuck yes. Please,” he practically groans, wondering how it’s possible for him to be hard again already. 

“I’ll order a car,” you agree, reaching for where you left your phone on the dressing room counter. 

“Surge rates, babe” he sighs, the disappointment evident in his voice as he issues the little reminder.

You shoot him a look that says ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?’

“I will pay all the surge rates in the world, if I get to have you again, as soon as possible,” you state, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to wait till you get home.

You glance back down to your phone, your fingers moving quickly through the right buttons to get a car on the way. As soon as you see the confirmation, your swiping out of the app, and over to an unread message:

Sydney: So that was weird. Where did you guys go?

You: Out for some air. Sorry, we’ll be right back in. 

Sydney: Angel wants pizza and a few of us are gonna go. Wanna come with?

You: Think we’re gonna head home. Breakfast tomorrow? My treat. 

Sydney: 100%

You: Congratulations again, friend. Love you. 

“What’s going on?” Carmy asks, as he sees you fiercely texting away. 

“Nothin’,” you answer, seeing the Uber notification popping up on your phone. “Just telling everyone we’re gonna head home.”

You turn your back to the mirror to examine the damage, immediately spotting Carmy’s bite mark on your shoulder. 

“Carmen,” you sigh, fingertips running over the huge bite mark on your shoulder – the one he left when he made while cumming inside of you.

Carmy takes a look, a small smirk on his lips as he sees what you’re referring to. He has to admit that he’s almost… proud of himself as he leans over, leaving a soft kiss against one of the rapidly forming purple bite marks left on the back of your shoulder. 

As much as he’d like to show the entire culinary world that you’re his, he removes the suit jacket he just put back on, and hands it to you. 

“Here. You can wear this.”

You giggle, taking it and appreciating Carmen’s act of chivalry. 

“As much as I’d love to do a walk of shame through a room full of the world’s best chefs… think I’ll keep this one between me and the one that just fucked me,” you joke playfully, as you kiss him as a ‘thank you.’

You check your reflection in the mirror as you drape the coat strategically over your shoulders, making sure you both look somewhat presentable enough to flee the scene with dignity. 

“Carm?” you ask. 

“Before we leave. I just-, I want you to-,” you stammer, uncertain if you’re doing the right thing by telling him. You’d hate to play into Nate’s little game – even if you both won after what just happened. 

“Hmm?”

“Just… you know… for the sake of factual accuracy and not that we’re playing Nate’s game at all but... you and I hooked up first. Nate just doesn’t know that.”

He nods in response, trying not to make it seem like a big deal. 

But it certainly makes him feel better.

“Well, if we’re being factually accurate…” he offers up in response. “I know you always thought our whole rivalry thing was one sided… but it wasn’t.”

“No?”

“Rode that guy as hard as I could, every chance I got,” he confesses, in reference to your old, very toxic work environment. 

“Because he deserved it?” 

“Because I hated how much he flirted with you.”

You shake your head with a small smile. Your phone is buzzing in your hand, letting you know that your Uber has arrived. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Bear.”

[fairestbeard]

The Bear “Pasta” episode is about tainted/interrupted magic.

 

Walk with me.

In my previous meta I discussed how The Bear uses magical realism or marvelous realism in its story telling as evidenced in “Pop”. This is also very evident in the episode “Pasta”.

What Is Magical Realism?

Magical realism is a genre of literature that depicts the real world as having an undercurrent of magic or fantasy… Within a work of magical realism, the world is still grounded in the real world, but fantastical elements are considered normal in this world.

David Lodge defines magic realism: "when marvellous and impossible events occur in what otherwise purports to be a realistic narrative"

The genius of The Bear is that it’s so subtle in its use of marvelous realism that it is totally left to interpretation. The magical aspects of the stories are so blended in with the ordinary so much so that you might not notice at all. We can see The Bear employing aspects of folklore and the supernatural in the most subtle ways.

Violet.

Over the course of the season, we’d see the color and general ambience of the show shift a lot to emphasize the mood and the events. This episode focuses on Carmy and Syd bonding over the menu they’re trying to create and it feels (to the sydcarmys at least) like some type of love is in the air. This is the closest Sydney and Carmy had ever been in proximity and intimacy to that point. It is also the most progress they made on organizing the menu in the season. We even arguably see Carmy the most animated and relaxed for how neurotic he is known to be.

In this episode we see a lot of violet or purple, which is associated in magic with love potions. There’s a ray of violet light streaming through the restaurant and all through the episode we can that (especially) Carmy’s skin is ever so slightly tinged purple. There’s also a hint of purple in almost every scene either from the lighting to random purple objects in the background (remember season 1 with the tomato cans everywhere? They’re saying something).

This was a very deliberate choice and the biggest evidence is the Chicago flag shown at the start of the episode.

The Chicago flag in The Bear vs the real Chicago flag.

Wiz Richie

Richie assumes the role of the wizard-in-charge, dressed in the purplest purple and trying to assert himself all over the ongoing renovations at the restaurant. He calls himself the supervisor (supervisor of the spell?), accuses people (obviously the audience) of not knowing “how to watch stuff”, in other words we should be paying more attention. The movement or beat of the episode is also centered on him. Everything is going chaotically well as it does with the Berzatto clan both at  the restaurant and away but then…

Richie finds an anomaly.

 

Mold is the death knell

Fak tells them mold is the death knell and it could "ruin everything". In other words, it could spoil the magic that's already happening, because it will.

 

Richie is in denial about the presence of the death knell and is trying to get everyone to ignore the problem instead of dealing with it the right way. But there really IS a problem and his efforts to prove there wasn’t results in a more catastrophic ruining of the magic.

 

This moment is where the whole trajectory changes. That’s the exact moment Carmy runs out of veal stock and has to go to the store. While Emmanuelle and Syd's dinner turn from sweet memories to an argument about whether Carmy is trustworthy, Carmy runs into Claire.

A breached portal

What I love about this scene is how once you see it you can’t unsee it.

The way Claire is introduced into the scene, it’s almost like in a marvel-esque fantasy film where a portal is opened do or create something good but some other force gains access to that portal and is introduced to their world. We also see the introduction of the cold blue that pervades the rest of the season.

We can sense Carmy's discomfort. He tries to gently evade what's to come.

But the mold has taken hold.

Sometimes the dark force is not a horned creature with a three pronged weapon. Sometimes the dark force is beautiful and smiling and “remembers you”.

Note: While I now and forever will be anti Claire bear and even though the format, through this marvelous realism lens, casts her as a malevolent force, in reality she probably isn't. Storer stays deceiving and léger de main, remember? Ultimately Carmy is the one "trapped in a prison of his own design".

[currymanganese]

Will Carmy leave the culinary world?

I know based on Carmy's current disillusionment with the restaurant world that this is a question that us fans have been asking ourselves, but here are some reasons why I think that Carmy will stay in the food service industry in some capacity, or at least why I'm hoping that he will.

Carmy loves the family restaurant:

First and foremost, Carmy does have a love for his family's business and for cooking, despite the burnout that he has been experiencing he defends the restaurant against his sister's scorn for The Beef and Uncle Jimmy's desire to purchase it in season one. Also, note that in his first onscreen face to face conversation with his sister, Via Chicago by Wilco plays in the background, and the tortured lyrics ultimately end by speaking of searching for home,

-and inter-cut with this scene, Marcus and Richie highlight an effective change Carmy has made to the restaurant (organizing the spice rack). The scene deliberately extends to have Gary tell Fak his REAL NAME while the song in the background says, "printed my name on a back of a leaf and watched it float away..." while Marcus finds a keepsake from Carmy's fine dining days / James Beard Award win that references, "Fairest Creatures", a phrase from Shakespeare's Sonnet 1 which is part of a

series of sonnets which urge a young man to marry and have children so that his legacy will live on. It is almost as if the narrative is telling us that Carmy's real name/identity is being a world class chef, not the harried, downtrodden line cook / small business owner we see him as at the beginning of the pilot, but this identity has temporarily eluded him. It also reinforces what Sydney said about him during her character introduction, when she told him that she knows who he is, "Most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America".

In a literal sense, the restaurant currently is Carmy's home away from home, even more-so than his sparse apartment, it is also his family legacy, and apart from his love for his family, the restaurant, and cooking by extension, is quite likely his "first love". He outright tells Jimmy that he loves the place in his conversation in Hot Dogs at Nicky's birthday party, and during his business pitch in "Beef" in S2;

"I love this place. I love this city. I wanna start our first business here."

He also doesn't deny it when Richie asserts that he loves the restaurant when Richie has the conversation about purpose with him also in "Beef", he just lets slip that the business is not fun for him presently, but as with many things, that can be subject to change in the future, especially if the restaurant presents him with the opportunity to have a home and a family of his own, and a legacy to give his own child or children someday! Now, don't get me wrong, a major component for Carmy's original love for the restaurant and for cooking was motivated by his love for Mikey, however, I believe that over the course of the series that Carmy may cement his love for the place and for his identity/ vocation as a chef even though he no longer has Mikey as his reference, his North Star. He may very well find even more reasons to love being a chef and to love the place that Nat and Jimmy, and his mom, and even Mikey once found unlovable.

2. Divestment and gifting of belongings, especially belongings that one is emotionally attached to is often a symptom of suicidal depression:

This may be TMI, but I first learned this as a child because my father was suicidal, he also even attempted once, but was thankfully unsuccessful, but one of the things my mother taught me and my siblings to be wary of is when he gives away clothing (he loves clothes). I know that Carmy giving Tina his chef knife in Season 2 is probably not meant to indicate that he is depressed, but I would be concerned if Carmy checks out of the business entirely to the point that he completely gives his stake in the restaurant up to Sydney or something of that nature, since, see point one above, he does love the restaurant, despite the strain that it causes. If Carmy continues giving away stuff that he loves in Season 3 onward I'd be very concerned.

I also believe this mental health symptom of suicidal depression was subtly illustrated in the pilot of Season one "System"; the jacket that Mikey gave Carmy, the one that it is implied that Carmy ended up selling to keep The Beef stocked and afloat, why did Natalie have it if Mikey gave it to Carmy? I believe that Mikey may have let Carmy know that he wanted him to have the jacket before he committed suicide, as in, Mikey divested himself of the jacket, just like in death he ultimately divested himself of the $300,000 from Uncle Jimmy and the restaurant itself. Knowing that, I don't see Carmy having an easy time walking away from the restaurant, regardless of if it is to pursue his artistic passions, even if he wants to...And also, as Carmy expressed in his monologue in Braciole, there's artistry in cooking and it is a subset of art that Carmy has become quite proficient in.

3. Carmy is competitive, but we still haven't seen him at the apex of his talents as a chef onscreen in the show so far:

Carmy was once so competitive in the culinary world that he viewed his coworkers in an antagonistic light to such a degree that he was determined to be so excellent at his craft that he "smoked" them and showed them up by comparison...He essentially becomes a master in his profession, despite his lack of academic /collegiate instruction in the culinary arts, through sheer spite for Mikey (as he expressed in his monologue in Braciole), for making him feel,

"...so rejected, and lame, and shitty, and uncool...."

-and out of spite/disdain for his coworkers. Although he is now far less anti-social and presumably has a healthier attitude towards competition, what would happen to someone with Carmy's competitive mentality if he quits the industry?

What healthy outlet does he have to be competitive to the extent that he can "be the fucking guy" and be the best at what he does, and to quite frankly be (in his own estimation, most importantly) cool? What happens to him (if he quits being a chef) the first time he walks into a restaurant and orders a meal, sits down to eat it and finds the dish shitty? What happens to him when he can't turn off the intuition that he has honed from years of self study where he can figure out how to improve a dish just off of one taste, like he did with Syd's braised Beef Short Ribs? As @thoughtfulchaos773 mentioned to me, we still haven't seen a moment where Carmy is confident and in control AND having fun while he is gelling with the rest of the crew in the kitchen, like Richie had while on expo in the season 2 finale.

If he quits being a chef, when will he get to "be the fucking guy" that Uncle Jimmy has been admonishing him to be? Because on some level he does indeed want to be that guy; he even watches Pasta Grannies in his free time, he doesn't suddenly stop being that kind of guy even if he quits, and I daresay that cooking may actually be some sort of special interest for him, which leads me to my next point:

4. Carmy may have to get into some form of further studies if he wants to pursue visual arts intensively, whether at a tertiary level or through some vocational program or as someone's understudy:

Whether it's visual or performing arts, the arts are quite difficult to get into and be successful in at a high level, and Carmy may have to undergo some retraining in order to have a competitive chance in that field, whether as an independent artist or whether he works under another artist or for a studio or fashion house etc., especially since the business administration aspect of his current job seems to be a challenge for him. However, since Carmy expressed that he had trouble in school and there were also instances where he seemed to struggle with executive dysfunction in season 2, the possibility exists that Carmy has ADHD or some learning disability that may complicate such a prospective career switch. It wouldn't be impossible for him, mind you, but this is a factor that also potentially influenced him, if not outright prevented him from going to college or pursuing another field. He'd need a lot of privilege and support to make such a career shift successfully.

Barring some assistance from connections and friends in high places (a la - his implied friendship with Thom Browne) it is unlikely that his current artistic skill level in sketching/illustration (that we have seen thus far anyway), that is either self-taught or based on his high school education, would be enough to get him very far as a visual artist. From seeing some of my artistically talented relatives struggle to make it as performance and visual artists, the arts can be very cutthroat, nepotistic and stressful industries to break into. The starving/obscure artist is an international stereotype for a reason, one of my grandfathers was even a struggling multi-instrumentalist for example; it can be quite rough out there in the art world!

Which brings me to my next point;

5. If Carmy continues to avoid dealing with the root of his traumas and does not process his grief and address his mental health issues, even if Carmy switches career, the next industry that he's in will still proverbially beat his ass:

As part owner of The Bear, Carmy has the opportunity and freedom to not just realize his own creative vision, but he also has the liberty to make it (along with Syd and Nat's and the entire crew's help) so that the restaurant is, to quote Sydney, "different from all the other places we've been at." He now has the power to make it so that, as much as possible, the restaurant is not the toxic, abusive, soul sucking enterprise that had him vomiting every day before his shift when he worked under the abusive executive chef (implied to be) at EMP. If Carmy cedes his place at The Bear, he is not guaranteed to have the same level of autonomy in another field, even as a visual artist, and the arts (or any other industry he may move on to) are riddled with challenges and injustices and struggles of their own.

While it would probably not be the intent of the creators if they do depict him leaving the culinary industry someday, in a way Carmy quitting being a chef could also be seen as a repudiation of Sydney's conviction that The Beef, now The Bear, doesn't have to be a shitty place to work at. If Syd and Carmy succeed at making it a great place to work at, shouldn't he be able to enjoy that for himself as well?

6. This show is many things, it's a study of the way grief and trauma shapes a person, it's about family, surviving family trauma surrounding addiction, and love, it's very loosely autobiographical, it's a genre bending dramedy, but so far it has also been a love letter to the food service industry and food service workers:

This is just my opinion, but wouldn't it be a somewhat tepid love letter to the food service industry/worker if the protagonist leaves the very industry that has made him who he is thus far, and that has even brought (in my opinion, don't kill me) his soulmate (Sydney) into his life at the end of the story? After the showrunners took the care to have two bottle episodes where supporting cast members gained fresh perspectives on their roles in the food service industry (Marcus in Honeydew and Richie in Forks) - we are even shown Richie (like Sydney with Coach K's "Leading with the Heart") reading and internalizing the book, "Unreasonable Hospitality" by Will Guidara.

To quote the author's website:

"Today, every business can choose to be in the hospitality industry — and you don't have to be a luxury business to do it. This book of lessons about both service and leadership learned over a career in hospitality celebrates the one principle that will never go out of season: the human desire to be taken care of. In this behind-the-scenes peek at the world of fine dining, Guidara shows us how to find the magic in what we do — for ourselves, the people we work with, and the people we serve."

As a result, I think Marcus and Richie's character arcs in season 2 foreshadowed the possibility of Carmy having a similar transformation on his current outlook on the restaurant and his place and purpose in it. It is also important to note that potential love interests served as mouthpieces to aid Marcus and Richie's perspective shifts in Honeydew and Forks, Luca for Marcus and Jess for Richie; while they weren't there as the sole reasons for Marcus and Richie's renewed appreciation for what they do in the restaurant, they were there to witness and assist with their character development and renewal.

With this in mind, how do you think learning that he prepared the best meal Sydney ever ate in her life, when he was at one of his lowest points mentally / professionally would affect Carmy? Would he really want to walk away from the field and vocation that helped him to win over / woo Sydney before he even met her, when he learns that this is effectively what brought her to his doorstep in the first place, not The Beef, not her Dad, not Mikey, not his prestige as a chef, but him and his cooking? I think that over the course of the show that Carmy has to learn to (to reference the aforementioned books) lead from his heart, and to rediscover the magic in what he does as a chef.

7. One of Carmy's struggles is loneliness and isolation, he may be even lonelier if he leaves The Bear behind:

Realistically speaking, the food service industry is a high stress industry that makes high demands on workers' time, with that in mind, how will he maintain his relationships with those who we have seen become his surrogate family members in the crew if he walks away from The Bear permanently? Let's say he becomes an independent visual artist, being self employed can be a lonesome experience. Also, loneliness itself can also cause dissatisfaction with one's job, does he really no longer think he is cut out for work as a chef, or is his loneliness one of the factors that brought him to a psychological/emotional tipping point at the end of season 2? From my own experience with losing my job at the end of last year, switching careers or leaving behind a job can, in an of itself, be a very isolating experience - especially if you were emotionally attached to your job or befriended your colleagues. If Carmy's loneliness is one of the biggest things he wants to escape, leaving The Bear isn't going to automatically make it possible to form the connections and the work/life balance that he is yearning for deep down inside.

8. If Carmy walks away from the restaurant, what happens to his partnership with Sydney?

After all, he was the one to convince her to partner up with him to start a new place. Worse yet, Carmy is heavily implied to be in love with Sydney, how will he have the opportunity to make something of that fondness for her or maintain a romantic relationship with her if he does start a relationship with her, if he leaves? He won't be there to try to make good on his promise to not let her fail, he won't see the highs and lows of her days BOH, their relationship just would not be the same. The disparity between professions and the high constraints on their time was also one factor that would have made it difficult for Carmy to maintain the relationship with Claire in the long run.

As such, it is common for persons in the food service industry and in other fields where it is common to work long hours, to get around this hurdle to proper work/life balance, by simply having their personal lives heavily intertwined with their work. It's common for persons in the food service industry to meet their spouses and partners at work and to continue to work with them. This is even referenced in season 2 which featured the husband and wife owned and operated restaurant, Kasama, and also with the butcher that mentions that he is in business with his wife to Sydney, after they lost their restaurant due to an untrustworthy partner.

So which will Carmy ultimately be to Sydney, just a partner that ultimately walks away from their shared vision and venture and goes it alone with his own career, even if it is for the sake of his mental health? Or will he be her partner in multiple senses of the word? Does he really "wouldn't even wanna do it without" her in a literal sense or will he walk away from The Bear? I'm hoping that he stays, or that even if he leaves that they leave together, and that they leave to greener pastures. Remember that Carmy told Jimmy that he wanted to open their "first restaurant" there at The Bear, imagine if they yield the restaurant to Tina, Richie and Nat someday and start another venture elsewhere or start publishing cookbooks together or become food television personalities, like Carmy saw himself as in his nightmare in Braciole, but in a positive twist?

Also keep in mind that when asked about the possibility of there being a romance between Syd and Carmy, Christopher Storer has gone on record to cryptically say about the two of them:

"It's a partnership, you'll see......."

9. Carmy is not a one to one analogue for Christopher Storer:

While Christopher Storer left the food service industry and entered the film industry as a writer/producer and director, and Carmy and his family is loosely based on Christopher Storer and his sister's life, there are some deviations from C Storer's life that make Carmy's character and story unique. Carmy is a youngest child, Storer is the eldest child in his family. Apart from having a cigarette addiction, Carmy is sober, but C Storer struggled with alcohol and substance abuse before he met his partner Gillian Jacobs. Storer is currently no contact with his mother who is an addict, but it remains to be seen what decision Carmy will ultimately make concerning his relationship with his mother, Donna. At the very least it seems that Nat wants her to be a part of their life still. This might be superficial, but Carmy is also short and Christopher is tall, here he is standing between Ebon Moss-Bachrach and Lionel Boyce who are roughly, 6' and 6' 3" respectively.

I'd be more confident that Carmy would leave the food service industry if he was more of an author stand-in for Christopher than Jeremy Allen White's depiction of Carmy currently is. Perhaps Carmy will represent the chef that Storer would have liked to work under or become if he remained in the culinary industry. And perhaps Mikey represents the person that Storer saw himself becoming if he did not meet Gillian Jacobs and become sober? Based on the earliest drafts of The Bear I know that Carmy and Sydney were supposed to more closely resemble Storer and his relationship with his sister Courtney, who is still a chef and is a culinary consultant on the show. However, since the story has changed so much after JAW and Ayo's casting, to the point that Carmy and Syd's relationship if rife with romantic subtext, then it'd make sense for me if Carmy remaining a chef is one more area where his life is not just a mimicry of Christopher Storer's.

TL;DR - I don't think Carmy will quit the culinary industry or The Bear, or at least I hope that he won't and here's why:

Carmy loves the restaurant.

Divestment of beloved belongings is sometimes a symptom of suicidal depression.

Carmy is a competitive person, being a chef gives him a healthy outlet to compete and to execute well at a high level, and we have yet to see this side of him/his full potential as a chef onscreen.

Carmy will require retraining to work in another field, even if he wants to do visual arts full time.

If Carmy keeps avoiding dealing with his mental health issues, a job in a different industry will still be a challenge for him.

The show is a love letter to the food service industry, Carmy leaving the industry someday will defeat the purpose of the show in a way, and would mark a departure from the trend of character progression where we've seen the supporting cast find renewed purpose in the industry.

Since Carmy suffers from loneliness, it is likely that he'll be even lonelier if he leaves The Bear.

His partnership with Sydney and his possible desire for a romance with her may suffer or become less likely to occur if he leaves.

And lastly, Carmy is not completely based on Christopher Storer's life, just because Storer left the food industry doesn't mean that he intends for Carmy to do so by series end.

Thanks for reading this through if you've made it to the end, and a big thank you for listening to me jaw on about all of this and convincing me to write it out @thoughtfulchaos773 !

P.S. Happy New Year everyone! 💃🏽

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Her avoidance

She can talk. She can fight. She can quit. But can she really open up?

Can she open up about her feelings? About her vulnerabilities? About her fears? Can she not be strong for a sec? Can she admit she dropped a ball? Can she cry in public? Can she break in front of someone important to her? Can she let go of her G woman mask for a sec and be just Sydney, the woman who does not get it all together at all times? The one who feels relegated and thus hurt by her business partner? Can she voice her needs and frustrations about it in an honest conversation that invariably will take an emotional turn?

Can she, not during an argument, but during a heart-to-heart conversation really voice out how she feels and why? Can she put her needs into words assertively and clearly, without having to resort to anger?

Because anger is not always an explosion during an argument or a result of a stressful situation. No. For avoidants, anger is also a fuse that blows after the avoidant mechanisms have done their job for a while covering up what has been really simmering underneath the surface for far too long. Then the burst of anger happens as a consequence of that not as a proactive behavior, and usually comes accompanied by other emotions, such as frustration, guilt, grief sometimes, etc.

Can Syd really open up to Carmy or to anyone else for that matter, like she once did under that table or in the back alley? -both situations initiated by Carmy btw, not by her-

Can Syd really stop avoiding talking about things that hurt her or that would put her vulnerability on full display?

Can Syd open up about any emotion or situation that DOES NOT solidify her G woman persona?

She operates from that G woman level at all times. Even around her father. She's self-sufficient, strong, hard-working, courageous, intelligent, talented, extroverted, talkative, can be a social butterfly, etc. BUT CAN SHE OPEN UP ABOUT ANYTHING THAT UNDERMINES THAT DEMEANOR SHE HIDES BEHIND AT ALL TIMES?

My guess is YES. She can. She chooses not to, though. Because she's avoidant in nature, which is probably rooted in her motherless upbringing. Not saying she lacked love and nurturing here, in fact I strongly believe she had all of that and I went over that here already. Syd is fine (IK it doesn't look like it rn) and she will be OK because of that. I'm sure. She's got this.

But she grew up without a mother nonetheless. And that took its toll on her. Of course it did, how could it not? Her getting along pretty much effortlessly with Nat and Tina (both mother figures) has a lot to do with that.

Growing up without a mother, no matter how great a job your father does to compensate for that absence, will, in one way or another, result in abandonment issues that don't necessarily have to be limitant although they can certainly be at some points of our lives, especially when exposed to highly stressful situations or life-changing events. Or when you know someone that turns your whole life upside down.

It's a delicate ecosystem.

In this delicate ecosystem, Syd's ecosystem, she developed a very sophisticated type of avoidance that does not cancel out her extroverted ways, they are actually fully compatible with it and highly valued in the professional realm:

Emotional avoidance

Emotional avoidance is a preemptive strike to avoid things that are perceived as threats and are associated with experiencing and/or expressing certain feelings that would jeopardize the G woman complex upon which her entire personality is built in her case. It's a defense mechanism, nothing else.

As long as it can be controlled, this mechanism, is not a big deal and can even work in our favor because it helps us to compartmentalize, when necessary. Now, when this avoidance causes conflicts to stay unresolved (I'm talking about a definitive resolution, not a quick patch) to the point of triggering panic attacks or insomnia, etc. then that avoidance has to be tackled differently because it becomes a problem.

It's important to clarify that this doesn't have to be permanent but rather consistent, meaning: it doesn't have to ALWAYS be the case.

But as long it's the PREDOMINANT TRAIT -which results in frequent issues that could be prevented or solved by not behaving this way, by not avoiding really opening up about feelings, by not postponing certain uncomfortable conversations, by not avoiding the conflict those conversations may bring to the surface, and again I am not talking about waiting for the anger to hit the fan and having a day of fury (great movie BTW), I'm talking about opening up about emotions, even the uncomfortable ones, the painful ones and putting all of that into words, clear words, assertive words. Even if that means tapping into a vulnerability that causes us unease - then it's a problem. A big one.

Effective communication

I'm talking about communicating effectively as I mentioned here and here.

For that communication to happen, her avoidant ways will have to be addressed and managed. I wish Syd, just like Carmy, would go about it in therapy, but mostly likely, taking into account that Sydney is Storer's creation, it will be forced upon her via the worst-case scenario or something along the lines of "traumatic". Like the inevitable convo Carm and her will have to have at some point and it won't be pretty. But it certainly is necessary. So, she will have to open up about what she feels for him and all the implications and base her decision on that, on all the things and feelings she's either in denial about, not ready to admit or avoiding.

That means that being Carmy's counterpoint in this case will allow her to work on her own unsolved issues, which include but are not limited to:

Avoidance

In return, her mere presence in Carmy's life allows and also forces him to improve whatever he needs to improve in himself to keep her by his side.

Like I said→ They complement each other. And they mirror each other.

Bonus track: Emmanuel Adamu is the only one she really opens up to (except Carmy when there's a table involved) and even THAT she finds hard to do as well. They love each other but their conversations, when tap into her vulnerabilities or fears turn into arguments that end up leaving her frustrated and obfuscated because he forces her to quit avoiding talking about certain topics Syd prefers to avoid.

That qualifies as class A avoidance when you have a problem letting your guard down even in front of your own father, the person you love the most in this world and who you know for a fact that will never hurt you and whose sole purpose is loving you and protecting you. So, anyone who comes after him, will not have it easy either. Obviously. Well, Carmy happens to be the one who comes after and he's as talented for avoidance and evasion as he is in the kitchen, so no wonder we are trapped in this limbo S3.

But we have a way out of here. I'm positive. In whatever way they want to do it, this effective communication will happen between them at some point. And if nothing works, they will always have a table to get under, I mean it's a restaurant, they have plenty of tables there, they just have to use them wisely ;)

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[nyikondlovu]

Chefs Kiss (Sydcarmy) fans stay with me, Chefs!

I’m not taking anything Ayo, Jeremy and Christopher say against sydcarmy, aka Chefs Kiss, seriously.

They purposefully kept Carmen and Sydney as separate as possible this season, which is a big mistake in my opinion.

The show is about the characters and their relationships with each other. Food is a part of it, but it’s mostly the relationship each character has with one another that makes the show.

The writers trying to dispel the rumours by keeping what I would call our male and female leads apart is nuts because Jeremy and Ayo play so well off of each other but by separating them Jeremy gave his weakest acting (which is still very good) during Carmy/Claire scenes?

They keep saying The Bear doesn’t need romance then give Carmen a whole relationship that was so boring to watch for like 7 episodes and felt like watching paint dry because Claire isn’t engaging.

I’m expected to care about her, what she supposedly means to Carmen and hear about how great she is but don’t get to see it? She’s an ER resident for gods sake and she’s running around town giggling every 5 minutes without a semblance of the hard work and exhaustion that comes with being a doctor.

And for the reason stated above, I believe she’s a manic pixie dream girl. She’s there to change Carmen’s view on life, be different and quirky and the one who got away when in reality Carmy forgot who she was and had to be reminded which took him a whole 5 seconds to remember the supposed love of his life, purposefully gives her the wrong number and she says “You’re the Bear, of course I remember.”

No one was gonna take her seriously as the person to keep up with Carmy and help keep him sane.

Meanwhile Sydney does. She anchors him, she keeps up with him and she calls him out on his shit. Sydney isn’t perfect. She’s terrible at stating what she needs at that moment, she slightly short tempered and she is passive aggressive.

She also is working on her impatience and passive aggression. She eventually tells Carmy she needs his attention as her partner. She speaks up for herself to her dad and she’s not letting her ambition be treated like a bad thing anymore.

Carmen and Sydney would make sense because they are flawed. Carmy stops going to group therapy as soon as he starts dating Claire because she’s ‘fixed’ him and they don’t work because of that.

Sydney has ‘levelled up’ in her professional life, she’s more assertive and willing to listen and has just grown as a person and that type of continuous strive for self growth is what Carmen needs to see in order to do the same HIMSELF.

Sydney isn’t there to fix Carmy, she’s someone who he can grow alongside.

Claire was used as a kids bandaid to a gaping wound; the wound being Michael. Claire represents a life where Mikey was alive and Carm’s fucked up family was as whole and happy as it’s gonna be. She represents the past and everyone PUSHED him to want to date her in the past.

There is too much between our two chefs for simply business partners:

S1 shows Carmen scrubbing the floor of the restaurant when in turmoil while Sydney does the same in S2;

She’s spliced into the montage of Carmy and Claire as though she’s a silent part of their relationship;

She has the three dagger heart tattoo which typically represents romantic heartbreak and turbulence;

Carmen remembers her interest in his whites from three months prior even though she didn’t say anything and gets her her own custom whites;

The imagery from their conversation under the table? Him asking her to screw the other side and “say more, please” as he holds up the table (and Sydney) while she finally shares her fears;

“You’re not alone.” “Neither are you.”;

The memories of Sydney being what calms him from his panic attack;

During said panic attack, the song that was Claire and Carmen’s plays in reverse and any flashes of her are accompanied by memories of his dysfunctional family while the moment he thinks of Sydney? The song starts playing correctly. He calms and flashes of his family (and Claire) disappear;

Them constantly cooling an argument with the ‘I’m sorry’ gesture;

Him constantly being in tune with her emotions and body language.

Sydney represents a new beginning. The chance to build a healthy family with the staff of The Bear, Sydney, Natalie and Richie. She represents a future. She represents good change.

I’m fully convinced Ayo and Jeremy are just doing what all actors do with a ship that’s not yet canon: downplaying or dismissing it.

C’mon if you’ve been in The High School Musical The Musical The Series fandom and shipped Rina from the beginning, you know how it feels to be persecuted and gaslit by other fans and the actors for seasons.

TL:DR, Chefs Kiss is literally a super slow burn and no one of the team will confirm it until it actually happens.

Also, never let your girlfriend (Claire) stop you (Carmen) from opening a restaurant with the love of your life (Sydney)

And if you think they should “stay platonic”, ask yourself WHY every swirl ship with a white male lead and black female is hated by fandoms and the argument is “they’re best friends” or “they’re like siblings”. WHY can’t black women be desired? Because you can’t self insert? Check yourself before claiming a character who was so underwhelming I skipped so many scenes is a better match than the character who has seen him at his worst and told him he cannot and will not talk to her like that. The first person he thought to open a restaurant, that means so much to him, with

[patheticbatman]

The 52nd Win A Commission Contest was the film Napoleon (1995)! I wrote it in prose form in conjunction with my drawings (lmk if you think I should add the songs), so if you’d like to see that, please

Once upon a time, there was a golden retriever puppy, who had big dreams, and no idea how to reach them.

His mother had named him Muffin, but one day, he heard humans speak a name – Napoleon! – And knew that had to be his true name. In his soul, he knew his heart beat to a tune that was both more warlike and wild. Often he had even heard the howls of wild dogs. Unfortunately, no one else saw it like that, and his mother insisted on calling him Muffin.

It didn’t help that he was afraid of water. He told himself that while every warrior had his trials, there was no need to be afraid of the humans’ pool; he was bred for swimming. Still, he hesitated.

One day, the small human had a birthday party. Cruelly, but without malice – for many young creatures are oft inconsiderate – the child decided to show off Napoleon's adorable qualities by placing him on a turtle pool floaty. The puppy panicked. Then, in an even worse turn of events, the humans forgot he was there, and soon he floated to the middle of the pool – the stuff of nightmares for both him and his mother.

Thankfully, the floaty eventually made its way to the steps of the pool, and Napoleon rescued himself – though not before a balloon fell on his head.

Irritated, he chewed and slobbered on the various objects the children left by the poolside to assuage his ego.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something new to investigate - a basket, tied to a bunch of helium balloons. He crawled in, much to the chagrin of his mother. She asked him to get out immediately, but embarrassed and overfocused on asserting his bravery, he did not heed her commands. And as she was tied to the dog house, she could do nothing to enforce them.

His wiggling and jiggling as he sniffed all over the basket – it smelled and tasted like a child with a lightly sticky hands had been messing with it – he did not notice that the basket had come untethered. Only when he had righted himself, did he notice that the basket - and thus himself – were in fact, flying.

His mother pleaded with him to jump out, but the balloons rose too fast, and he was soon too high up to tumble out safely. Both parent and puppy were terrified, and she tried to assure her son that he would stuck get in the trees, and to just sit tight.

But through some twisted miracle, he floated into the open sky.

Trying to calm his nerves as his mother’s frantic barking grew fainter and the world underneath grew smaller, he sang a song of adventure. A warrior, a true, wild dog, must of course be able to make the best of bad situations.

Soon he floated out of the suburbs, and into Sydney, seeing the incredibly tall skyscrapers from above for the first time.

And just when he was starting to float down, and his hopes rose – for maybe some human could take him home! – His basket got caught on the front spike of a monorail train.

Speeding through the city, he enjoyed the wind in his face and the rush of people in cars below. Unfortunately, the train came to a stop, and his basket came loose, and once again, he was free - floating right towards the harbor. Water!

Soon, he was over open water, and the weight of the situation settled heavily on his poor heart. A plane passed overhead, but did not hear his pleas for rescue.

But a lost galah named Birdo did. Screeching and curious, but also cautious for the puppy, he encouraged Napoleon to sit more securely and balanced in the basket. However, Birdo was still a bird, and he had a bird-brained idea. As the two floated over a beach, Birdo started popping the balloons in an attempt to gradually lower Napoleon to land.

Bemused, for Napoleon did not quite follow the plan, he watched as the first popped balloon fell to the side of the basket. However, by the second, the basket began to worryingly shudder its way to the ground - and Napoleon was not close. Still, Birdo persisted.

Unfortunately, the fourth popped balloon was one too many, and the basket hurtled to the ground.

Horrified, Birdo screamed for Napoleon to jump out as the basket impacted, and then began bouncing and rolling violently down the windswept cliff. When the basket finally reached the bottom, Birdo feared the worst, for he saw no sign of the puppy.

But it was empty! Napoleon was on a rock ledge. He ridiculed Birdo, and the galah was both irritated at Napoleon's ingratitude, and worried over the puppy’s fate in the wild.

Napoleon, ignoring both his and Birdo’s fears, decided to embrace his situation and go look for wild dogs. He climbed up a different cliff to overlook a vast rainforest. Birdo warned him that house pets don’t survive out in the wild and said he should head home. Hearing the call of a wild dog, Napoleon ignored Birdo’s warnings and descended into the forest.

It was soon dark, but Napoleon wasn’t worried, making his way through the slender moonlit trees. High above him, a tawny frogmouth caught his attention and warned that housepets either died or became something monstrous to survive. Napoleon once again ignored the advice, believing that the frogmouth was merely trying to frighten him.

—

Eventually, Napoleon decided it was time to sleep. He had gone a long way today, and would likely have further to go.

Napoleon ran across a spider and asked her for a good place to sleep. She instead fished for a compliment about her web. Napoleon pointed out a mistake, panicked because it stuck to his nose, ran through the web and ruined some more of it with his tail. The spider was quite displeased.

Unconcerned, the puppy ventured forth, until he came to a great tree, with a tunnel running between its roots. Napoleon sniffed it, hoping that it could be his bed for the night, but found it to be someone’s home. Calling out in the hope of finding someone willing to share for the night, Napoleon did not notice a feral black cat watching him from above.

"Is that a mouse I hear?" the cat said rhetorically, stalking forward. Napoleon entered the tree roots. "Can’t have a mouse in my house." Napoleon munched on something inside. "Furry mouse. Big yellow mouse."

Napoleon thought he heard something but quickly turned back to the food.

"Time to rid my house of the mouse!” the cat said, coming into view.

"Huh? What?" Napoleon said, his wide, dark eyes shining against his pale yellow face.

"The mouse." The cat growled – whether or not in reply to Napoleon, only she would ever know. Her intense, yellow eyes squinted menacingly, her body barely standing out from the dark of the night.

Napoleon laughed nervously, panting. "Good thing I’m not a mouse."

"You can’t fool me with that pitiful disguise!" She crept forward and hissed. "I’ll RIP it off you!"

Napoleon tried to run, but the ribbon the birthday child had wrapped around his neck got caught. The cat growled, and the puppy ripped free, leaving the ribbon behind. She ran after him, in that flat, close to the ground way cats do, far more familiar with the landscape than he was.

He hid, hoping that a lack of movement would protect him from the grimalkin.

Unfortunately, he had hidden right next to a boulder, which was perfect for her to creep up, plan her attack, and then pounce on the unsuspecting Napoleon.

He ran into the forest, the cat catching him occasionally, and even once bowling him over. She chased him onto a log, crossing a small, muddy pond.

He froze when he realized he was stuck over water, and the cat taunted him.

“Listen to me. I am not a mouse. You are a deeply disturbed animal." Napoleon foolishly appealed to her sense of reason.

“Shuddup!” She snarled. Napoleon whimpered. "My job is to destroy all vermin in this house. The mouse must die, now!" She started biting at his face, hoping to knock him into the water.

The tawny frogmouth, who had been observing, took pity on Napoleon, and flew down, knocking the cat into the water.

Only bubbles rose.

The frogmouth scolded Napoleon, but he did not care, and mocked the spot where the cat fell in. Remembering his manners, Napoleon thanked the bird.

"That cat won’t rest until you’re dead,” It said.

"That cat is fishbait by now." The puppy scoffed, and ran away.

The cat rose out of the mud and swore revenge, but by then, Napoleon was far out of earshot.

—

Snuggled at the base of a tree, the sun rose, and Napoleon heard his mother say, "Rise and shine, Muffin. It’s a beautiful morning. Time to get up, Muffin. Wake up."

“Mom? Mommy?” He woke up, expecting his mom to be there, but was dismayed to find himself alone.

Shaking his sadness off, Napoleon scampered through the verdant rainforest, and congratulated himself for surviving his first night away from home. He came upon a waterfall, and sat stymied. Out loud he wondered why he was so afraid of water.

A bunch of rainbow lorikeets started mimicking him. In between taunts, they told him that the wild dogs are on the other side.

Soon, Napoleon’s desire to meet them won over his fear. He found a flat spot to cross, and the lorikeets mocked his progress. But he made it!

He met a much nicer lorikeet who confirmed his intel and sympathized with him over the rudeness of the others … which gave Napoleon an adorably wicked idea.

Crossing back over - for he was slightly distant desensitized to his fear of water by then – he tricked them into calling themselves stupid, and went on his way.

Eventually, he arrived in a less dense forest, and overhearing a suspicious sound, went to investigate.

In the clearing, on a slanted tree, was a koala.

Napoleon tried to growl at the koala, but he was nonplussed. After a little more boasting from Napoleon, the koala climbed down, unconcerned with the puppy’s antics as he followed behind his odd waddle on the ground.

Napoleon tried to goad the koala into climbing up a tree and spotting the wild dogs – for once again, he heard them, but could not seem to find them. The koala turned it back on him, and kept the fact that he couldn’t see farther than a meter in front of himself, until he was away from Napoleon's reach.

The puppy stalked away, irritated. That was when Birdo found him again. Napoleon immediately jumped on the chance of having a lookout, but accidentally insulted the galah instead.

He apologized and then ignored Birdo‘s advice about going home, instead, asking for wilderness survival skills.

Unfortunately, when trying to open up to Birdo, to convince the galah of his mission, Napoleon let slip that the that they called him ‘Muffin’ at home, near a dastardly frog, and the same taunting lorikeets from before, looking for revenge. On the spot, they came up with the whole song about how he should go home. Napoleon tried to bite the frog, but it plopped onto his head. Birdo, being a good friend, kept knocking the lorikeets off their perch, but they kept flying back.

Tail held high, Napoleon walked away from the twittering animals, and found a log floating in the water. Unthinkingly, he walked on, and was surprised when it detached from the shore and floated into a bay. Despite his dismay, he resolved to sit tight, and let it take him to the other shore, where he was headed anyway. Less work!

Of course, it ended up dead in the water.

Birdo, impatient and dedicated to keeping this dog alive if he wasn’t going to go home and save himself, decided to toughen Napoleon up. He swooped down and knocked the puppy into the water, encouraging him to doggy paddle.

Napoleon was surprised to find that he was really good at it – perhaps forgetting that he was literally a golden retriever. He still needed a little instruction on how to get up the bank, but he made it.

—

The first lesson to become a wild dog, Birdo decided, was food. They had reached a rocky area, overlooking mountains. Birdo lead Napoleon to a rocky hill, covered in dry grass. A chorus of rabbits briefly scattered into sight before hiding behind other boulders and grass.

"Do you want me to eat these?" Napoleon said incredulously. All he had ever eaten was his mother’s milk, dog food, and dropped human food.

“You want to eat," Birdo said, with no small amount of vicious glee in his voice, "You’ve got to learn to KILL!"

Napoleon's incredulity did not lift. But somehow, he was convinced to try. He wandered over to where the bunnies were flitting about.

Sadly, they moved so rapidly, Napoleon had trouble focusing on just one to catch. They sang as they escaped, aware that they had the upper paw, but unwilling to show anything other than caution.

Birdo sang in opposition, calling upon Napoleon's bloodlust and hunger to drive the puppy to kill. Napoleon managed to get one alone, and it sat huddled, mostly frozen to its own detriment, as the puppy engaged in rough play with its tremorous body. But the rabbit managed to gather its wits, and after it jumped on top of a rock, Napoleon lost interest.

Birdo scolded Napoleon, but eventually gave up on the bloody venture once the puppy found lichen to eat. It did not stop his complaints.

They moved to drier, flatter land. The next lesson, according to Birdo, was learning to discern whether an animal was dangerous or not.

Napoleon approached a wombat, but as soon as it caught sight of him, it ran away, screaming, "A house pet!"

Next, he found some quokkas, former victims of the cat. They were more friendly, but still shaken from the encounter. One’s ears were quite torn.

Birdo was satisfied, so they traveled onto some snow-topped mountains. Napoleon, who loved using his nose, remarked that snow made smelling more difficult. That did not stop him from smelling something unusual.

Birdo was uninterested. He felt that it was time to learn the third lesson, about the weather. In fact … he felt a huge storm coming.

The snow that sat on the trees shivered and fell. A large rumbling came ever closer. Then Birdo realized his mistake. The rumbling wasn’t a storm. It was brumbies!

"Run!" the bird screamed, and flew away, landing in a far tree.

As the feral horses thundered by, the bird realized with great dismay that he could no longer see his friend. He called out, but if there was an answer, the galah could not hear it.

Once the herd passed, Birdo fluttered down and searched amongst the trampled snow, panic rising. But Napoleon merely had slipped into a snow burrow.

Napoleon yelled at Birdo, for he had at least smelled the horses. Birdo protested, and it only made Napoleon angrier, vowing not to trust Birdos ‘faulty’ advice again, and ran down the mountain. His nose caught something, so the puppy paused for a moment, looking over the land below. "I smell sweets!” – Napoleon followed his nose to a field of what he thought was tall grass. Birdo followed, and tried to warn him what happens to fields of dry sugarcane.

Being a dog, and one irritated at Birdo, Napoleon ignored the warnings and followed his nose instead.

Napoleon ran into a red-bellied black snake, and was nearly drawn into its eyes, but Birdo’s worried screeching pulled him out of it.

The cane around him got hotter and hotter as he pushed further in. Then he smelled smoke. And where there is smoke, there is fire. Terrified, Napoleon trampled through the burning cane, skirting around blazes and coughing, while Birdo guided the puppy out with his voice.

Stumbling out of the cane, the two reunited joyfully, and Napoleon apologized.

Of course, that was when the cat caught up with them. Bird and puppy hurried away, the cat following close behind.

Surprisingly, they stumbled upon Birdo’s flock, whom he had been searching for these last few days. Birdo joyfully flew among his kin, screeching.

This gave enough distraction that the cat, not wanting to miss an opportunity to rid her ‘house’ of vermin, crept up on a tree full of galahs.

Happy for his friend, Napoleon wandered a gulley lined with red dirt, making slight fun of the reunited family as he passed underneath. By chance, Napoleon turned his head and saw the cat creeping up behind some of Birdo‘s cousins.

Napoleon had to yell repeatedly that the cat was behind them, their excitable din nearly causing their own demise. But the galahs noticed the cat and flew away in time.

Birdo didn’t see it that way, and scolded him. He hadn’t seen the cat, and only saw what he thought was Napoleon scaring his family away. He quickly changed his tune when the cat crept up behind him.

Napoleon sauntered away as the cat lay defeated in the tree, looking for Birdo. They soon found each other near a highway. Birdo failed to land on a traffic sign, and Napoleon refrained from commenting beyond a genuine query about his health, as Birdo delicately climbed onto his chosen perch.

"Where does this road go?" Napoleon asked.

"It leads to the shore, where you landed." said Birdo. "It can be one of the most dangerous places out here!"

The puppy shrugged him off, saying, "I know all about roads!"

This was when a tractor trailer truck came into view. Napoleon wisely got to one side, but then noticed a dark colored frilled-neck lizard, laying flat on the road. Desperately, he barked at the lizard, believing it to be asleep. He wanted to go into the road, to nudge it away from the path of danger, but Birdo and some of Napoleon's housepet instincts held him back.

The truck roared by, covering the poor lizard from sight. To Napoleon and Birdo surprise, once the truck passed, they saw the lizard lay unharmed.

Napoleon went forward to make sure that the lizard was all right.

"GO! AWAY!" snarled the lizard, terribly offended at Napoleon's proximity and concern. "THIS IS MY SPACE!" The lizard leapt threateningly into Napoleon’s face. Friendliness made Napoleon a little slow on the uptake, so he didn’t really walk away until the lizard leapt.

"Never expect gratitude from a cold blooded creature. Hah!" Birdo said, landing on the road to walk away with Napoleon.

Soon, they encountered dry shrublands. In between dull green plants with thin leaves, the red earth lay cracked and uneven.

Birdo urged Napoleon to go home, reminding the puppy that his family surely missed him.

Napoleon's eyes shined wetly, but he couldn’t ignore the call of the wild dogs. It was his lifelong dream, after all.

The two debated for a while, but Napoleon held fast, claiming it was a dog thing, and Birdo wouldn’t understand, but that he was grateful for all of Birdo’s help so far. They came to the edge of the desert, and both felt in their hearts that it was time to go their separate ways.

As evening fell, they sang a bittersweet duet of parting, and bid each other goodbye, wishing to meet again. Birdo flew off to rejoin his family, and Napoleon continued on his quest to find the wild dogs.

—

Napoleon followed along a narrow footpath.

A small, spiky animal groaned as it came his way, as if each step hurt. An echidna! Napoleon went over to say hi, but it dismissed him stingily, anticipating jokes about its appearance, and wishing to keep its potential water to itself. Napoleon assured it that he would share any water he found, but that didn’t seem to matter to the echidna. Then he made a poorly-timed pun, and the creature clumsily rolled into a small pit in sheer irritation.

The echidna begin to dig, though its small paws made for slow going. Napoleon helped, and the puppy quickly uncovered some water, and drank first, much to the echidna’s chagrin, complaining about germs.

Napoleon set off again, and found himself in the desert. Red sand laid burning, wind blown into long waves of dune lines, stretching on for desiccated kilometers. The puppy scampered across, as the gait afforded him less time for each paw to touch the scorching ground. Nevertheless, it hurt.

Brown mountains rimmed the stretch of land, and Napoleon kept along until he found a solitary tree, providing precious shade. There he rested among the dead branches bleached white like bones, when he spotted an odd animal.

It stood – as much as a lizard can stand – upon a shrubby hill, and howled and barked in a heart-sinkingly silly voice.

"That’s what I left home for?" The lizard barked some more as Napoleon stared on in disbelief.

Disconcertingly, the thing started approaching Napoleon, making odd gulping noises with each step it took.

"Were the wild dogs I’ve been hearing… that?” Napoleon had to make sure. He ran to the creature and asked.

Pleased with the attention, the goofy looking beast – which he came to realize was a perentie lizard - let out a long, ridiculous howl, ending in a guffaw. Without prompting, the lizard demonstrated his poorly rendered repertoire, which included cow noises.

Napoleon ran away, heartbroken and disillusioned, the lizard’s haunting "Moo. Moo. Moo. Moo. MOO!" echoing in his ears as he climbed up the mountains.

"I am such an idiot. All this time, I’ve been chasing after a barking lizard. There’s no wild dogs anywhere. I’ve been running after something that doesn’t even exist." He whimpered. "Now I’ve got no home. No wild life. I don’t have my mother. I don’t have the instinct to make it out here. I’m a dumb house pet.” He cried for a moment. “Who doesn’t know a retriever from a reptile. I don’t deserve the name Napoleon. Not a crumb like me." Then, with a sob, "I’m just a Muffin after all."

He kept running, racing along ridges, until at last he fell down from exhaustion.

—

When he came to, small creatures - rodents, or marsupials, he wasn’t sure - were running around, hiding in rock cracks and burrows. A few noticed him, and presumed him dead or soon to be. A rain storm loomed ever closer, and promised to sweep all incautious creatures away.

Napoleon got moving. He knew better now than to ignore their warnings. Sure enough, fat drops soon splattered the ground, and currents began to form as the water overtook the earth.

Running into a crevasse, desperately hoping to find himself a cranny or nook to press himself into until the flood was over, Napoleon stumbled into a cave that stretched upwards, away from the coming water.

It was still dry, the red soil still untouched by water that would turn it into a bland tan. Napoleon climbed upward, sniffing excitedly. A safe spot! And then, at the very top, a pale movement. Two other puppies!

"Mother? Is that you?" a sweet voice called out.

"Hello?" Napoleon couldn’t believe his eyes.

"A stranger! Get out, or we’ll attack!" a rougher one said. He knocked his sister down to Napoleon in the guise of a pounce.

They were creamy tan, with ears that were still floppy like his, but looked like they were going to lift up soon, likely into sharp points.

Nancy, for that was the girl puppy’s name, decided Napoleon was fine, and after clearing up that she and Syd (the other puppy) weren’t lost, that this was their home, she tried to play with Napoleon.

But it was not meant to be. A wave rushed into the cave, and soon caught up to where Napoleon and Nancy were standing, washing them away. Syd, safe on a rock shelf, screamed as his sister was thrown about, yelping. Napoleon managed to pull himself to sit on a rock shelf, a larger and stronger swimmer.

Napoleon took charge once he saw that Nancy was still in the water. He instructed her to keep talking, and to hold on.

Nancy disappeared for a moment, the boys’ hearts leaping into their throats. But then she reappeared on a rock, the water still lapping at her feet, threatening to catch her again.

Napoleon could feel his heart racing - all his troubles with water had lead right to this moment. He swam to Nancy’s rock, barely keeping his head above the water as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.

But he made it! Too scared to swim, Napoleon coaxed Nancy onto his back. Confidence and a need to save her strengthened his paddles, as he pretended to be a boat, to distract her from panicking. Both stayed above water. He had a little trouble getting her onto the ‘dock’ -the rock shelf where her brother stood - but they managed.

And just as quickly as the rain had come, it stopped. And there, standing at the cave mouth, limned by the tentative sun, was a figure.

"It’s a wild dog!" exclaimed Napoleon in wonder.

"Of course it is. It’s our mother!" exclaimed Syd.

She shook the rainwater off, and smiled at the puppies.

"I’ve been with the wild dogs all along!" Napoleon couldn’t believe it.

In a comforting voice, the mother dingo said, "Syd. Nancy. Are you all right?" she panted. "Who is this?"

Shock at his own luck and a sudden drop in adrenaline hit Napoleon like a hammer, and he fainted.

—

He woke up hours later, with Nancy licking his face. After shrugging her off, and spotting her mother, he got straight to the point.

"Can I stay here with you? I want to be a wild dog."

"But what about your mother?" ask the dingo, her kind eyes watching from above.

"I want to live here. In the wild!" The other puppies pleaded his case too.

The mother dingo answered the only way she could: "Of course he can."

"I’m a wild dog. At last!"

All the puppies began to tussle out of sheer happiness.

—

The days passed by. The two dingo puppies played ‘Napoleon’ with the vanishing puddles, taking turns being rescued.

Both Napoleon and the mother watched over their antics. At the beginning, he would sometimes sit out of their games to make sure he did not tumble the other two puppies - being bigger and older, he could hurt them. But as time went on, he grew disillusioned with playing. For the last few days, he had not played at all, and only laid next to the dingo mother.

His new life in the wild didn’t quite satisfy him anymore. The thrill of living with real wild dogs was amazing, of course, but something felt missing. Napoleon thought it was just because they hadn’t started the more bloodthirsty aspects of the life, like fighting and hunting. But the dingo mother knew better, and so as she cuddled with the retriever puppy while he took a big nap, she made a plan.

—

"Wake up, Napoleon. Today is the day." She nudged him awake and led him out of the cave. “Come on, it will just be the two of us." She trotted it across a field of flat rocks, covered in red clay, and baked in the sun. Being unfamiliar with the terrain, Napoleon struggled to keep up, but was buoyed by enthusiasm.

"Tell me child; why did you leave home?" she asked.

"I wanted to go where there were no rules."

"And what did you find?" They crossed onto a plane of white sand.

"Well, I found that there were a lot of rules, about living with other animals, and being on your own."

Now they were walking parallel with the shore, black shells littering the ground. "And what did you want to do out here?"

“I wanted to hunt my food, and kill it!"

"And did you enjoy that?" Her voice continued to be kind.

"No. I ate moss instead." He confessed.

"Anything else you wanted?"

"Well, yeah! I wanted to stay up late and have fun all the time!"

"And did you? Have fun, all the time?" The two laid down, front paws ahead, watching as the sun bowed down to darkness.

“No. Sometimes it was scary. Lots of times I was alone."

"Then why do you want to be out here?"

"I want to be a wild dog! So I can be really brave and fearless!"

"But you’ve been that, all along. You couldn’t have come this far without being fearless. And it was YOUR bravery that saved Syd and Nancy." She paused, and then said, "In your heart, you’ve been a wild dog all along, Napoleon."

Their shadows grew long. "I guess I have!"

"Is there something more you want?".

"Well, yes."

"Tell me."

"I want – " Napoleon paused, for a moment, unsure if he was willing to say it. "I want to go home. I miss my mom."

"What if I told you I had a friend who could take you back?"

"Really?!"

"Come along." The sun‘s last rays lit the two dogs as they went back to the cave one last time.

—

The next day, Napoleon was treated to what was possibly the most inane song in existence as he rode in a red kangaroo’s pouch. Repeatedly, Napoleon was smashed full in the face with tall, bristly bushes and narrowly evaded what should have been easily avoided obstacles, such as trees. He called for help several times, but to no avail, as the kangaroo crooned to her ‘possum’. He tried hiding his face, but it didn’t fit well in the pouch.

As soon as she stopped, Napoleon hurried out and into the forest, to get away from her insanity. Somehow, he ran into the same koala as before.

"Well, well, " the koala drawled.

"Oh no, not him again!" Groaned the puppy.

"If it isn’t my favorite dining companion, the wild dog himself."

"No! I’m Napoleon! Wild house pet! Conqueror of the outback, and the backyard!" Napoleon declared, sure of himself.

“I can run fearless across waterfalls!" he yelled as he did just that.

The lorikeets, who still didn’t have anything better to do, mimicked him. "Little birds suck!" Was all he said, tricking them into insulting themselves once again.

Soon he was back at the beach where he first arrived. "Now what do I do?" he said, clambering over the rocks and pebbles that lined the shore. He could see home! But how was he to get across? Then he spotted his basket, a little worse for the wear, but still floating, and felt triumphant. He went over to the tide pool where it rested, bobbing occasionally with eddies of the waves.

But instead of it being empty, as he had assumed, a New Zealand Adélie penguin popped his head out! It was nearly full grown, but was still small and round.

They argued a bit, but the puppy was able to assert ownership over the basket, and then they fell to talking. As Conan the penguin kept extolling his fierce nature and super–penguin abilities, Napoleon had to laugh; the little bird was exactly like him at the beginning of his journey!

Conan’s speech started to turn dangerous, so Napoleon decided to tell his own story, hoping to help the penguin avoid his own mistakes.

—

By the time he finished, an unconvinced Conan stood watch as Napoleon struggled to climb into the basket – the plan was that he would be carried out into the bay at high tide during midnight. But the penguins' bravado dissolved as soon as he saw his family.

"Pengy!” a raucous voice called out. Conan tried to hide, but as his mother just called out “Pengy!” again, he reluctantly turned to face them. Napoleon laughed at the silly name.

Terribly embarrassed, Conan waddled up a dune to escape, only to find his family already there.

Apologetic, Napoleon convinced the family that he could persuade Conan to go home. He felt bad for making fun of Conan’s name, but still thought it best to try and stop any so-called adventuring – even going so far as to continue to call him Pengy.

Napoleon climbed into the basket before Conan could, annoying the penguin.

"It’s my turn to howl! You’ve had your fun!" said the penguin, who then howled in a goofy manner. Conan began waddling up a hill, continuing to monologue about his future adventures.

There was a low rumble. At first, it sounded like a vicious wind blowing through trees, but it soon transformed into a noise Napoleon knew and dreaded. It came from the hilltop.

"That sounds… Could it be?" Napoleon tilted his head in hopeful confusion. "Hello, is somebody else up here?"

Rocks fell. Napoleon knew it had to be her. "She’s back!" he yelped, voice high with fear.

Lightning illuminated a black figure, stalking downhill. Unconcerned and unaware, Conan carelessly looked for the cat, peering down and making empty threats, as the predator gazed from above. Thunder rolled, and again, the cat growled.

Napoleon scrambled out and up the hill. He couldn’t let that dumb bird die!

"Time to rid my house of the mouse!" the cat announced.

Finally, seeing her, Conan, ignorant of his impending mortality at the claws of the creature above, suavely said, "All right. Come on! Let’s go, hunt down a few."

"But I’ve already found one! An unusual, black and white mouse."

Napoleon finally arrived. "Leave the penguin alone!"

"Well, if it isn’t the Muffin mouse!", she hissed. "The mouse dies!" She lashed out at him, claws outstretched.

Finally getting a clue, Conan waddled away. “Well. There is such a thing as too much adventure!"

“Just you and me, wacko!" Napoleon challenged.

"Seems unfair, nine lives against one," the cat quipped.

Within his head, Napoleon quickly came up with a plan to get her into the water, where the cat seemed much less of a threat. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" he called, while backing closer to the water.

Showing her absolute detachment from reality, she followed his call. As both walked across constantly wave–beaten slippery rocks, one hit her body, and she slipped off the rock, yelling.

"Bull’s-eye!" Napoleon yelled, then gasped as he saw the drenched cat hissing from behind another rock.

"You’ll pay for that!" she vowed.

"Okay, it’s payday!" Napoleon ran up a hill.

The cat shook herself and followed.

"Come on!" he taunted. "Come after me!" Napoleon slipped and loosened some rocks, sending them tumbling at the cat's face.

"No!" she wailed, unable to stop as the rocks underneath her paws became loose and pulled her now towards the edge. "Kill! No!" she hooked a paw on the ledge as more rocks tumbled down, persistent to the last.

"Running out of lives?" Napoleon said unsympathetically.

"I still have many more!" Her paw was slipping. "Come, let me slash you!"

“Happy landings!"

"Slash you with-" She shrieked, falling to the dark depths below.

Napoleon pulled himself to the peak, and looked down at the tumultuous water. "I knew that cat was on the edge." The waves raged on. "Look at that! Guess she used up her lives." Suddenly, he remembered Conan. "But what about that penguin? Hey Pengy, you down there?"

The cat watched the golden figure from behind, hate burning in her eyes. She hissed, and Napoleon sent a glance her way, but he must have not seen her, for she she was able to rush behind and headbutt him off the cliff.

She laughed at the puppy stuck on the ledge below. "That’s it! No more games."

"Games?!" exclaimed Napoleon incredulously.

The cat encouraged the puppy to jump to his blue death; the waves beat mercilessly upon the shore.

He refused and tried to appeal to their common background; after all, weren’t they both just lost house pets?

She hissed and crept her way down to him, telling him to shut up and boxing his ears. It was looking a bit dire.

“Hey, ‘fraidy cat!" called Conan from further down. No way was he going to let some cat hurt his friend!

This distracted the cat just enough for Napoleon to push her off the ledge and into the basket waiting below.

She laughed maniacally as the impact of her fall dislodged the basket from the rocks and pulled her out into the bay.

Conan jeered.

From the ledge, Napoleon heard a howl. Looking up, he saw the spirit of a wild dog; and just as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

"I really am a wild dog, " he murmured in awe. But his awe soon drained; forlornly he watched his way home disappear, yowling into the night.

—

Morning came.

Conan questioned Napoleon's plan to get home, but the puppy had no idea what to do. He was very distraught.

Then Conan spotted something, approaching them from the water. A green sea turtle, with something … on its back?

It was Birdo!

Puppy and galah reunited, Napoleon agreed that his friend was right all along, and Birdo brought good news. He had found Napoleon a way home!

As Napoleon stood on the turtle’s back, letting it take him back to Sydney, he bid his friends goodbye, reminding them to come visit soon.

—

Running, running, running, Napoleon made his way home. His tail wagged like a propeller as he saw a familiar yard.

"Mum! Mum! Mum! Mummy!"

His mother, who had just a moment before had been slumped mournfully, stepped out of her dog house and began a full body wag. “Muffin? Is that you?!" She couldn’t believe her ears.

"Mum! Mummy!"

She scanned the yard, but could not see her baby.

"Mum!"

“Well come here!" she said desperately. "Come here! Let me put my paws around you!"

His little head peeked over the patio wall. "Mum! It's me! I’m back! You wouldn’t believe where I’ve been!" He put his front paws on top of the wall.

She spun around, unable to contain herself, held back by the rope attached to the doghouse. "Come here! You didn’t get hurt, did you? What happened to you!?"

Maddeningly, he came no closer. "What happened? Everything happened to me!"

"Careful! You can’t get over that wall!”

"Are you kidding? Piece of cake!" He leapt down, and ran to his mother, nearly smashing into her face out of sheer exuberance.

They jumped and tumbled and kissed joyfully, relief and love filling their hearts. Mother refused to let son out of her grasp and finally, the world was right again.

"Muffin, I want you to promise me you’ll never run away like that again."

"I won’t. And I want you to promise me something."

His mother laughed. "Anything darling, anything."

"I want you to call me Napoleon."

"From now on, you’re my Napoleon."

—

Nobody noticed the cat peering over the wall. "Ah, not a mouse. A dog! Dog must die!"

Napoleon Explanation

So this was a story that took me a long, long time. It’s definitely my longest adaption of film, tv or podcasts yet - and I hope it stays that way! The adaption ended up a little dry, but I feel that I was able to describe the events effectively, and utilize the dialogue (the hardest part to adapt) sparingly but appropriately. At the beginning of my transcription, I tried to avoid any dialogue at all, but oh well. This covers the entire movie, a movie without any books or scripts to help me avoid typing.

Last summer, 2023, I had the job of Lost Parents. That basically meant I’m the person lost children are brought to if the security guards can’t find their parents right away. Eventually, a security guard brings the guardians, or the guardians come themselves, and pick up the kid(s). Which is all fine and dandy, especially since I don’t have kids for most of the shift. Kids have stayed with me for over two hours, but usually they’re gone within half an hour and I’m rarely brought any in the mornings. So I get projects like these done!

The movie is on youtube (see link), so over several days I slowly worked through it and wrote out all relevant details into a notebook (I find writing easier if I start in a notebook and type it into a document later - if I just start on a document I never finish. Plus I wasn’t really supposed to have my phone out, and switching between apps is annoying). Then I typed it up - often via voice-to-text, unless I was recording dialogue. For some reason, the program does not recognize quotation marks very often. Then I fixed it up and whalla! What you see above is what I wrote!

But I didn’t finish editing it until after that summer, because I was more interested in drawing the pictures. In fact, drawing the title picture was the first thing I did!

To be honest, I often drew the title pictures well before anything else. They were easy.

This title picture was in reference to the old VHS cover I used to have for this movie. It’s an Australian movie, so they speak English, but for some reason they released an American dub and released it over here. So I’ve loved this movie ever since I could remember. But the balloon scenes were iconic, so of course I had to include it. Especially since I decided this adaption would only have four pictures total. As I wanted to save my labor for my more original projects, and because this was a movie, it has less pictures.

The second picture is Napoleon getting chased by the cat. It used to scare me as a kid, so I always had a clear picture of it in my head. Plus, it serves to contrast Napoleon’s bravery in later scenes.

The third picture is Napoleon saving Nancy. I basically just wanted to draw all the puppies and Napoleon being brave. So we ended up with that part!

Last is Napoleon and Pengy/Conan looking up at the wild dog spirit. It’s the least accurate picture, but one I felt fit well. In the movie, Napoleon and Pengy look up to see a wild dog on top of a cliff who gets swept away by mist. But considering that they were still up on the high parts of the cliff at the end of the fight, the timing and location doesn’t quite make sense. And drawing *lineart* of mist is hard with my style, and requires more texture than fits in line with my most recent coloring book drawings. Way back at the beginning, I used to add details like shading, lines of hair and such, but that gets in the way of coloring, so I stopped. As such, I adapted it to fit my needs. Now Napoleon and Pengy/Conan are in the shot (I wanted to include both), and the wild dog spirit is in the clods and stars! I’m decided that the storm went away.

The Pengy vs. Conan thing was something of which I struggled when writing the last part. I support chosen names, especially when the old names totally don’t fit anymore. Hell, Napoleon insists on being Napoleon right to the end! But I decided since this was basically from his viewpoint, he would not call the penguin Conan, not even in his head. For the rest of the movie, after all, he calls the penguin Pengy. So while this choice does not reflect my preferences, I think it does reflect Napoleon’s.

Last thought: the setting of this story is genuinely fantasy. I think the creators wanted to go for a pan-Australian vibe; so many different ecosystems from across the continent are shown in the film. This means, of course, that Napoleon went to a fantasy kind of island across from the city though. There is nowhere in Australia where ALL of those environments are present. If he truly walked the entirety of Australia, a continent, he would have been a grown dog well before the end of the movie. But since he is still a puppy by the end, that just means he went to a fantasy Australia. Which is kind of cool.

Hope you enjoyed, and please check the movie out!

[kyndaris]

An Introspective Lull in the Pursuit of Love

I have often found that it is quite easy for me to fall into new routines. Take this blog, for example. In the past, it would contain impressions of the games I'd played and finished, along with the occasional anecdotes I'd come up with that had been on my mind. As I started to date, many of my posts soon changed to revolve around my attempts to find love. But despite going at it for nigh on two years, I haven't felt closer to cracking the mystery that is romance even as I've flooded my weekly entries about my adventures.

As my love life dwindles though, I've been scrambling to find something fun and lighthearted to share with the dear readers I've accrued on my blog. Not that there's many.

Still, at least I now have the opportunity to opine about the state of the world or properly allow my errant thoughts some breathing room.

Of course, if you've read the title of this blog, you'll know that in this instance, my thoughts haven't strayed too far from the familiar.

Since I've started chronicling the dates I've gone on, it has come as no surprise that I don't regard myself as straight. There have been many a time wherein I've asserted that I sit somewhere on the asexual spectrum. But recent revelations on who I might be attracted to has had me scrambling on what it means to be in a relationship and the sacrifices one needs to make.

Although I've opened my preferences for all genders on Hinge, I've found it extremely hard to date or chat with people from unique backgrounds. Invariably, most of the people that tend to like my profile or who I actually respond are cisgender heterosexual men. Probably because they're the ones most active on the dating apps. And while conversations can start off strong, it almost always seems to fail. Whether it's because they're a bad texter and I find it hard to continue a conversation or they just stop responding altogether.

The only person I've kept up a steady communication with is Dikottir. And in fact, we might be venturing out to VIVID Sydney for a fifth date (at time of writing, VIVID has only just begun). But while this may seem promising, it comes with the caveat that we've technically met in person since August 2023, with our initial chat on Hinge back in July of that same year.

If ever there was a relationship that was the epitome of a slow burn, this would be it.

Perhaps it comes from the fact both of us have our own individual lives and interests. Or maybe neither of us know how to navigate the quagmire encapsulating relationships.

I know I certainly don't lead a very riveting life that requires constant chronicling/ updating to a third party I barely even know. Heck, not even my own mother asks me how my day has gone even after absconding to China and leaving me to care for my grandmother (although, if I'm being honest, there's not much to say on a daily basis anyways. I wake up, I work, I cook and then I go to bed after playing some video games).

Besides, it's not like I consider Dikottir my Roman Empire. There are just so many other things to preoccupy me: books, video games, shows, road trip planning...

To be fair, Dikottir has been nothing but a gentleman. But after years of having romance novels and films harp about a 'spark' or the 'chemistry' between two people, the word I'd use to describe my 'relationship' with Dikottir would be torpid. At best.

Still, I persist. Wondering if this 'thing' between us will ever work out. Although, if I was being truly honest with myself, I think it'll just end up being a friendship.

Hinge, and many other dating apps, simply aren't very conducive for me in building up a connection. Constant interactions in a shared environment or a neutral setting are some of the best places for me to slowly build up the foundation to a strong friendship.

And yet, there have been people I've met that I've felt an odd compulsive pull where I want to learn more about them. Alas, it's only happened with women. As I've detailed before in an earlier post, there have been women I've been drawn to, believing we could be the best of friends. Is that love? Or is it the makings of a crush?

I wish I knew. I wish there was a definitive definition of what it means to fall in love with someone so I could tick off the symptoms and diagnose myself with it instead of having people tell me: "you'll know it when it happens to you."

A part of me does want to believe this is me like-liking someone but discussions with Sorrengail, a fellow ace, has described these instances of obsession as a 'squish.' And, in almost all instances, my swift and sudden obsessive curiosity does fade.

But it is in those rare moments that I do wonder if there might be something more beyond the platonic.

These last few days, I've posited the theory to myself that maybe I'm questioning these 'squishes' as something more because my mind has been focused on trying to build relationships and finding a romantic partner. But the more I do, the more I fear what might become of an actual committed relationship.

How much of myself will I need to compromise? Will it have all been a waste of time if nothing eventuates? How do I know if someone likes me or not? What are the 'signals' that I should be looking out for?

I think for most people the start of a relationship is always fraught with a mixture of emotions: the desire to make a good impression and the fear the other person might not like the 'real' you. Especially if you immediately lean into the chaos gremlin dwelling inside the human exoskeleton.

It's certainly something I've thought about because even as a neurotypical person, I've often found myself portraying a heightened version of myself to different social circles. For example, I know I can't go into a deep dive about Kingdom Hearts lore at work because no-one else would appreciate the collision of Disney and Japanese role-playing games. And I don't talk about the books I read to many of my non-reader friends.

While these aren't exactly separate personas, these images of me that I project are tailored to the audience I'm with.

Yes, they are all me but they are me in different situations.

And there aren't many social circles where I feel comfortable enough to unleash the nose-booping, terrible picture-taking chaos gremlin menace that I really am on the inside. At least, I'm not comfortable with showing off that side of me.

Although, yes, there are people at work who know I'm a big massive nerd. And who are a little frightened of my ability to memorise addresses.

I also have a tendency of phrasing things terribly. So, there might be a subset of people I know who fear for their lives (looking at you Chinchilla) even though I wouldn't hurt a fly (that's a lie. I kill a lot of insects).

Jokes aside, I'm also worried I've entered this race for all the wrong reasons. Love isn't something to be pursued. You can't force it. It either comes naturally or it doesn't. But maybe, too, I need to stop being oh so cautious and just jump in with both feet if I do feel something.

As Ellie Chu, from the film The Half of It put it: love isn't patient and kind and humble. Love is messy and horrible and selfish and bold. It's not finding your perfect half. It's the trying and the reaching and failing. Love is being willing to ruin your good painting for the chance at a great one."

Maybe that's what I need to do. Instead of comparing and contrasting Hinge profiles to see who might be a good fit and letting my executive functioning do most of the work, I should lean into my instincts. Instead of fearing that a relationship won't work out, I need to fight in the trenches for it.

And whether or not love will hit me over the head with a hammer or sneak up on me like an assassin, I need to be open to it.

Easier said than done!

But hey, that's life, isn't it?

[randomfoggytiger]

React: "Return to Me" (from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs, Part VII): Scars and Hearts, Dining and Dashing

We're back, let's go!

**Note**: Editing later, brb.

Bob is deterred from further work instructions by his workers' "we got it all done" even if they don't know what it was they got all done. It's time to clock out, let them live.

The new enclosure's done-- Sydney gets a new cage, woo.

Some guy named Fennington is going to do the speech and apparently that's mock worthy. Forgot who that was, maybe old man at the party (in Part I) or one of the boardroom guys (in Part II?)

"Elizabeth would love that, huh?" Charlie quips.

"She would've loved this."

"You did it."

"Took me long enough."

Love how Bonnie Hunt sets aside time for characters to celebrate each other-- the restaurant, the bowling alley, and now the construction completion. It makes this world feel homey, lived in.

Charlie picks up that Grace is playing at something; but he thinks it's long-term teasing rather than her being scar-shy. To be fair, no one but she and her family (and Megan-Bonnie and her husband-- who are practically family anyway) know about the scar thing.

The mock turtle soup line DOES play into this but not directly as Charlie asserts: "This is a game that all women play just to reel us in."

And that could be true-- for the women Charlie surrounds himself with, who want to play rather than settle down. But Grace isn't like that; but he doesn't know she's not like that. And he's worried about how hard Bob has fallen for her, especially how quickly.

"Well, it's working."

"You are so sad."

Bob calls Charlie Sammie Sosa-- brb, gotta research him because the kids went HAM and chased his pal across the park. ...'Kay, so he was a Chicago White Sox player big enough to be on a baseball card. That explains that, though I'm outta the baseball card loop (and baseball.)

Megan-Bonnie still insists that Grace tell him about the heart surgery; and is adoring of her chaotic, salt-of-the-earth Joe man.

Bob's getting prepped for "the talk" Grace promised-- which includes messing up the microwave over and over to make popcorn.

He does know how to make popcorn, guys.

He does.

He says so while grabbing the popcorn back out to rip off the plastic wrapper he'd forgotten to take off.

He brought up the writeup on his wife's tribute coming up.

The magic fingers worked: the popcorn will now pop once the safety guidelines have been followed. A miracle.

I guess affectionately slapping your dog off the couch is the next order of importance. I mean, he's a dog who likes it, so that's kind of tempting.

Enclosure talk time. Bob's proud and relieved and feels like a weight is off his back. And a bit of closure as well....

3/4 angst mark here we COME.

Grace understands and compliments him on his hard work.

"Yeah, but it's been worth it... to make Elizabeth's dream come true. At least I could do that for her."

"I'm sure she's very proud of you."

That's such. an amazing compliment.

Unlocked: Bob will remember that.

"Thank you, Grace." DD, perfect line delivery: a breathy exhale more than a word. A sentiment instead of a sentence. Validation and understanding.

Grace is saved by the bell (the microwave timer); and Bob reads the room, backing off and giving her space to recuperate.

And, of course, this is when Grace stumbles across the letter.

Her letter.

I knew this plot point was coming, here we go.

A furthering of the gag: Bob burns his hand on the hot popcorn... in a bowl?? Bob, you put the popped microwave packet in a bowl???? Are you okay--

They're all burned and Bob's discouraged.

Bob--

Bob, what.

Bob's spraying the popcorn demons away. Please tell me that's-- IS THAT WINDEX.

What's peak comedy about this is the scene's done in complete silence other than the kitchen banging and spritz sounds, perfectly cutting back and forth with Grace/Minnie's unraveling revelation upstairs.

Grace reads the paper, sees Elizabeth's death date, and starts making gruesome connections.

Yuuuuuuuuuuup, she just saw the letter.

Yuppity yupperoo.

She books it, making up a babysitting excuse.

Bob tries to help put on Grace's coat even if she's already whipping it on herself. It's the little touches that, to me, are unintentionally hilarious and also really endearing.

She's wheelin' outta there even if parts of her bike are breaking; and both of them are chattering-- she to avoid conversation, he to engage it.

Bob's as perplexed as any reasonable man would be. Maybe she smelled the popcorn upstairs, BOB.

He trails her out, maneuvering the bike down the steps and catching a few extra seconds with his gal pal. Bob is still chattering, wanting to lighten Grace's stress as much as possible.

All his solutions and questions are brushed away as she zooms off.

He's smitten... but he's also thinkin'.

Survivor's guilt kicking in.

"What was God thinking??" got a chuckle out of me.

Megan/Bonnie is all for transparency and honesty but can't say the complicated truth herself. Great characterization.

Joe walking in and knowing someone died and misinterpreting everything and wanting to fight Bob is both why Megan loves and wants to strangle him.

Megan blurts it out.

Joe: "He's not married? ...Oh, okay." That's good enough for him.

Joe's great.

Grandpa is making plans for Grace to go alone to Rome since that's what she thinks will make it easier for Bob to process.

It's the day of reckoning.

Bob pops in, greeting both of them cheerfully; and charmingly adds, "Hey Gracie, close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you to open them."

Marty gives her some advice-- the strongest character gets the hardest challenges-- doing his best to uplift her by twisting lemons into lemonade.

Bob got her a new bike because her other one was a bunch of busted bolts. Ooooooooh, isn't that always how it goes in movies? Make it just that gut-punch a hair tougher, why don't ya?

A touched and pained cry-- I like it, Minnie Driver, I like it a lot.

Bob even made a trumpet noise to celebrate.

Bob I'm sorry I ever doubted you if our journey led up to this trumpet noise.

Those chipmunk cheeks of happiness won't last, Bob. Enjoy your mood while you may.

"You okay? I was worried about you last night."

"I'm going away."

"What?"

"I'm going away."

"Why?"

Minnie/Grace reveals what she didn't have the courage to tell him sooner, leading up to her admittance of surgery last year.

Bob's radar fears are up; but he has no idea what's coming. (But WE do, heheheh.) His posture is slightly turtled back: stomach tucked in, shoulders hunched, preparing for the worst (nice acting chops)--

but EXPLODES forward in relief at the heart transplant news.

He flings out the quickest joke he can think of that's farthest away from his true fears: "I thought you were gonna say you were a man or something." Which is the least detached way of expressing unbearable relief.

Then he immediately jumps back like Minnie/Grace feared he would: "Am I hurting you??" His face then cycles from worry to panic to lessening anxiety ("You're okay now?") to saturating, processing relief ("You're fine. You're healed."); and, finally, to mild but reasonable reproof ("You could have told me that....")

Apparently, Tumblr's decided I've had too much fun and is making me cut off there.

Will continue as soon as I can.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[m3lzalz-honeybee-noble]

This article was a very interesting read. Anyone else spiraling and wondering in which episodes or moments in season 1 and 2 the writers’ minds went straight to… and Tim And Lucy kiss?

To kill time, if anyone wants to participate and offer their thoughts or ideas, please feel free to comment here, reblog, or create your own posts. You can tag me it you wish.

These may require some more thought and analysis, but here are some that come to mind for me:

Season 1: This is so hard, because there are so many tension filled scenes, but Tim and Lucy were just getting to know each other, Lucy was getting over her situationship with Nolan, and Season 1 Tim would NEVER. I couldn’t really think of a moment or scene that could’ve led straight to a kiss, but maybe the episode as a whole:

1x07 (Lucy confronts Tim outside of Isabel’s). I know, definitely too soon, but that tension and angst between them in that moment… GAH 🤤. You can’t convince me there wasnt a shift.

1x11 (Lucy gets stuck with a used needle; Thank you! For What? Doing my job?). If Lucy was as bold and confident then as she was in episodes 4x22 and 5x01, she would have sought comfort from Tim by kissing him.

1x14 (Plain Clothes Day)- The banter, Tim in plain clothes 😍, Tim’s discreet protection, loyalty and trust. I wouldn’t have blamed Lucy. I probably would have skipped her in line.

1x18 (Chenford paintball date)- their first unofficial date. A trophy kiss for their Team winning.

1x20 (Tim gets infected with deadly virus)- nothing like a NDE (Near Death Experience; any OA fans out there?), and fear of death, to put things in perspective. Their mutual comfort was chef’s kiss. The closed door being a literal barrier between them. Their last looks at each other, like no one else was in the room (a callback for episodes 5x03-5x04). I could see them running to each other embracing and kissing, a la Sydney and Vaughn (Alias).

Season 2: Oh this one was definitely much more easy. There are so many. This post is getting too long, so I’ll just name 6. I can do a part 2, for second half of the season

2x01 (Lucy confronts Tim about his mistreatment of her so far along; suicide ideation) - Lucy is at her best when she is assertive and stands her ground (🔥) -I could see a Tim apology that leads to a confession and 😘

2x02-(Lucy records audiobook for Tim): the time and thought Lucy put in, on top of the 8-12hr work shifts. That alone warranted a kiss of gratitude. Bonus: Tim was breathing, sleeping, eating, showering, exercising, and working with Lucy’s voice in his head, 24hrs a day. Some say he still listens to the audiobook, you know as a refresher course to being Sergeant 👀

2x03: (betting Lucy couldn’t find a partner for Tim; Lucy’s short sleeves victory): The flirting and invasion of each other’s personal space (boundaries non existent). 📢GET A ROOM📢

2x06 (missile crisis, end of the world): they chose to spend their last moments on earth with each other. Let’s end it with a kiss.

2x08 (Tim wouldn’t have gotten that stupid plaque if Lucy didn’t have his back; Thank you! For What? Doing my job? Part 2): She saved his picture on her Lock Screen! The first thing she sees when she goes to unlock her phone. They breathe each other’s air on that bench. Tim leaned in to her, while drinking his beer. Just kiss her!

2x10 (Introduction of Rosalind Dyer; Lucy meets acolyte Caleb): if Tim had offered to take Lucy out for that drink with another human, the sequence of events that followed never would have occurred, and the night would have ended with a kiss.

2x11 (Lucy’s Rebirth/ Reawakening )- including this because technically there was a kiss. A kiss of life. I could also see their hospital scene ending with a kiss if they weren’t interrupted and talked a little more.

2x12 (Tim keeps tabs on Lucy and gives Lucy her ring back): Both scenes had so many unspoken feelings/ unresolved, good tension. I can imagine if they hugged, it would have ended with 2 kisses.

Bonus: I won’t elaborate, that is unless you are not over this post and care to know more

Season 3:

3x06 (Lucy goes undercover as Nova, the first time)

3x09 (Lucy “fake” feelings confession, and Tim, heart eyes 😍, will miss riding with Lucy)

3x14 (Lucy undercover as Nova Part 2; Tim asks Lucy to Save him a Dance)

Season 4: Before 4x22

4x01: (Their first on screen HUG)

4x07: (first undercover together (please correct me if I’m wrong); Lucy 🎤 Tim up with wandering eyes, all the way down and up)

4x09 (Tim’s day of validation/ reflection/ retribution/ and Lucy’s Hug of Life)

4x12 (Lucy and Tim’s Date with 3rd and 4th wheel, Chrispy and Ashy; Personal Space, into the VOID you go)

4x18 (The collection of a debt that was owed… THE DANCE)

Season 5: Manifesting First REAL Kiss:

5x08 (Lucy and Tim riding together again for the first time, after a long hiatus, pun intended)

[unseemingowl]

The Bear and the daily struggle of leadership

Look, we all know it, there are tons and tons of things to love about The Bear. The sharply drawn characters, the way it deals about trauma and addiction and what makes family and community. 

For me personally though, the thing that makes it the most special is the way it portrays the difficulty of leadership and building a good work place.  

I seem to have watched very few tv shows or movies that aren’t about the military that actually takes a long, hard look at this, and that’s usually through an ultimately heroic lens. Though of course, one could say that working in the food service industry is a lot like doing battle, but that’s another discussion. Fact of the matter is that a lot more of us are gonna to go through a kitchen than active duty.

I’ve been a union rep and am still active in the politics at my place of work – and I also write a lot about leadership and management in my current job – so this shit is important to me, and the Bear does it so fucking well y’all. Like so fucking well.

In the Bear we’re shown three different sort of leaders. Mikey, Carmy and Carmy’s former boss in New York. Or what I’d for the purposes of this will call leading through friendship, leading through respect and leading through fear.

Mikey makes confidants of his employees, just like he makes best friends with everybody. That inspires loyalty for sure, but he also does not help them grow, in fact more than once he causes them to demean themselves. Carmy’s former boss pushes his employees to offer their absolute best, becoming the best that they can be, but he also bullies them so terribly that they leave his kitchen traumatized, and gives Carmy the desire to do things differently. Not put others through that.

Honestly, it's amazing how much leadership skills get undervalued considering how many of us have tried what it feels like being at the mercy of a bad leader. Just because you’re good at your job, does not automatically mean you’ll be a great leader of people. A common misconception, one that I see a lot of in my current industry, and other high pressure and/or creative industries. 

But in the Bear, Carmy does actually does make a decent go at it. He proves himself to his employees, teaches them new skills - from his second in command Sydney to the fresher Marcus, delegates responsibility, lifts them up when they fuck up, but he is also willing to assert his position in the hierarchy. He really does so much right, shows that he does seem to have the aptitude for it.   

And he also fails. Fails hard.

Because leading is fucking difficult. And that really is the trick here. I always wanna tear my hair out when people act like whipping an organization or a company back into shape is just about instituting a few new codes of conduct and get rid of one bad apple in the basket.

Sure, those things will help, they’re good first steps, but leadership is putting in effort every day. It’s consciously making the right choice all the time. Because falling back into known patterns is so easy when things get tough.

When Carmy gets put under real, serious pressure, when shit hits the fan, he falls back into what he’s seen before. Screaming, berating, bullying. Because that’s easier. Because he’s human, and even the most well-intentioned people fuck up.  

Carmy’s lucky that he has put in effort before that happens. He’s given his employees a taste of what kind of leader he can actually be. Given enough that they’re willing to come back.

And fuck, I can’t wait to watch the next season to see what kind of leader he’ll be now with that vote of confidence. 

Hopefully his journey can inspire others like him. 

[endlessreruns]

(Hannah Waddingham) [The Performer]. Please welcome [ Charlotte ‘Lottie’ Finch (she/her)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [48]-year-old [RESIDENT] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [owner of Auntie Em’s Antiques and Oddities]

Name: Charlotte Finch

NickNames: Lottie

Face Claim: Hannah Waddingham

Age: 48

Gender/Pronouns: cis woman ;  she/her

Orientation: Bi

Town Resident

Neither Hunter or Gatherer

Occupation: Owner of Auntie Em’s Antiques and Oddities

Traits:  Assertive / Captivating / Calm / Guarded / (self) Perfectionistic / Confrontational

-----------------------------------

Born to an upper middle class family in Huntsville

Never quite felt like she fit into the small town life

Had a natural gift for singing, took lessons from a woman on Sundays after church

Family drove her to take dance classes outside of Huntsville as a kid/later on her own when she could drive

Started doing plays during the summer in the closest city when she was 10

Graduated high school and spent the next couple years continuing to build up her resume, taking courses at a community college and working as a waitress in town to save up money

Moved to Chicago at the age of 20 where she lived for the next 3 years where she was part of many productions, usually as a swing or in the chorus

At 23 she became part of a touring company and then 2 years after that at the age of 25 she and a friend moved to New York. 

Continued to work on and off over the next couple years, not receiving a lead role til she was 30, a role that would end up bringing her a lot of notoriety and acclaim within the theater world. 

The next few years found her not only performing on stages in New York, but London, Sydney, and a few other places as well. 

Hadn't meant to come back to Huntsville, glad to have left small town life behind

Wound up stuck 2 years ago when taking a trip and the shortest path happened to take her through town 

Figured she might as well, and stop and see family while she was at it (finding it odd and somewhat offensive that in all her years of performing since leaving that none of them had come to see her perform, especially after she started getting bigger parts.) 

Bought the antique shop about a year ago

Works on putting together shows once every couple of months that helps showcase the artistic and musical talents of the people in Huntsville, usually renting out space at the dance hall to do this. 

Despite trying to make the most of it, because what else can she do, she hates being stuck here. 

[icml]

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[aangussca]

Gallery visit: MOMA (6.7.24) - PART 4

Exhibition description (found in all other exhibition locations for 24th Sydney Biennale): "Change - or mudança in Tadaskía's native language of Brazilian Portuguese - lies at the center of the multidisciplinary artist's practice. In her work across drawing, sculpture, and other media, Tadáskía employs an improvisational approach, conveying a sense of fluidity through her dynamic mark-making, nuanced imagery, and kaleidoscopic palette. Rather than pursue a complete or final image, the artist has explained: "I'm interested in the passage from one thing to another." Tadaskia's unbound book ave preta mística mystical black bird (2022) forms the centerpiece of this presentation. The work recounts a fantastical tale of "winged transformation," and pairs the artist's freeform drawings alongside her poetic, bilingual text. The images depicted in her colorful compositions, which she often initiates with closed eyes, vary and morph from one sheet to the next. They might appear as crescent moons and brilliant suns, or as ambiguous abstract shapes. Through the story, we are invited to follow its titular ave preta, or black bird, on her flight across earthly and divine realms, "towards a journey of freedom," informed by the artist's lived experience as a Black trans woman. For Projects: Tadáskía, the artist has produced an expansive wall drawing and a set of sculptures in response to this exhibition space. While her vigorous mark-making encourages us to trace her coursing and shifting lines, the organic materials used in her sculptures evoke the ephemeral life cycles of nature. Alongside the central role of change, as Tadáskia herself asserts, "the main character in the work is time.""

ave preta mística mystical black bird (2022, unbound illustrated book (pencil, colored pencil, oil pastel, and spray paint on torn paper, 61 sheets) - excerpt below)

Description: "While briefly hospitalized as a child, Tadáskía discovered reading, writing, and drawing as ways to imagine community. This work was inspired in part by a storybook she received during her hospital stay, and in the artist's words, serves as "a fable, but without the moral." The hopeful tale is also influenced by the writings of Black feminist thinkers like Audre Lorde. It begins with a dedication to her "Black sisters and Black brothers," to "Black women and Black trans people," as well as to "people who care about children and to people who are equally children at heart.""

Row 1: animated play Ill (brincando animada lIl) (2023/2024, mural - charcoal and dry pastel on wall)

Row 2: arrangement (arranjo) (2019/2024, diptych sculptural installation - bamboo, beachgrass, willow branches, wire, beads, eggshells sewn with gold thread, face powder, black liquid, clear liquid, plates, fruits, and vegetables on platforms with charcoal and dry pastel)

Description for animated play Ill (brincando animada lIl) (2023/2024): ""When I was drawing, my mother, Elenice Guarani, and my aunt, Gracilene Guarani, who are both Black, Afro-Indigenous women, told me to add more color because color is life," the artist has said. From her earliest art-making experiences as a child, collaboration has been a central aspect of Tadáskia's practice. To produce this large wall drawing, she worked with a team of assistants over several weeks as they built up its prismatic palette."

Description for arrangement (arranjo) (2019/2024): "In keeping with her improvisational approach, Tadáskia's sculptures are made in response to the exhibition site. She approaches their creation with an openness to materials - often organic - that will continue to change over time. Raised in the Pentecostal church, the artist sometimes incorporates objects, including cattails, beads, or stones, that are significant within various Afro-Brazilian religions like Candomblé. Her choice of materials derives from the relative magnetism of certain elements: "There is a vibration in things and people we meet, which sometimes pulls together, sometimes pulls apart.""

[lawofnaturesblog]

Navigating the Waters of De Facto Relationships in Sydney

Introduction: In the bustling city of Sydney, where cultures converge and opportunities abound, modern relationships have taken on diverse forms. One such form is the "de facto" relationship – a unique bond that holds legal and personal implications, often referred to as the Australian equivalent of a common-law marriage. As couples increasingly opt for this alternative to traditional marriage, it's essential to understand what de facto relationships entail, how they are recognized legally, and the rights and responsibilities they bring to the table.

Defining De Facto Relationships: A de facto relationship is a partnership in which two people, regardless of gender, live together on a genuine domestic basis without being married. This can involve couples who are same-sex or opposite-sex, making Australia a pioneer in recognizing and legalizing such relationships. It's important to note that the duration of cohabitation, while significant, is just one factor considered when determining a de facto relationship.

Legal Recognition: De facto relationships are legally recognized in Australia under the Family Law Act 1975. This recognition has far-reaching consequences, including property rights, financial obligations, and access to social benefits. In Sydney, a city known for its high cost of living, understanding these legal implications becomes paramount.

Rights and Responsibilities: Just like married couples, those in de facto relationships have rights and responsibilities that extend across various aspects of life:

Property: In the event of a separation, the assets and liabilities acquired during the course of a de facto relationship are subject to a property settlement, similar to a divorce settlement in a marriage. This involves a fair division of shared property and financial resources.

Financial Support: De facto partners may have financial responsibilities towards each other, particularly if one partner is economically disadvantaged. This includes potential spousal maintenance, ensuring that neither partner suffers undue financial hardship post-separation.

Parental Rights: De facto couples who have children together share parental rights and responsibilities, just as in a traditional marriage. This includes decisions about child custody, visitation rights, and financial support for the children's upbringing.

Social Benefits: De facto partners can access many of the same social benefits and entitlements as married couples, such as health care and superannuation benefits.

Proving a De Facto Relationship: To assert the existence of a de facto relationship, several factors are considered, including the length of cohabitation, the nature and extent of common residence, financial interdependence, and the presence of a sexual relationship. This assessment can vary, but it generally involves demonstrating that the relationship is genuine and enduring.

Conclusion: As Sydney continues to evolve into a melting pot of cultures and lifestyles, de facto relationships have become a significant part of the social fabric. With legal recognition and implications akin to traditional marriages, couples in de facto relationships need to be aware of their rights and responsibilities. Navigating the waters of such relationships might seem complex, but understanding the legal landscape and seeking professional advice can help couples build a strong foundation for their shared future in this vibrant city.