#on the other hand we have a child who was let down by the system and became a mass murderer about it

[oh-no-its-bird]

Im listening to revolting children from Matilda on loop for the like 10th time in a row. Got me thinking thoughts.

No one asked me the specifics of how this would work, but like:

AU where the childen of Konoha just fucking revolt. Just straight up say "nah fuck this" and revolt against the entire shinobi system. Tear it down from the ground up by simply refusing to participate, leaving Konoha stranded without an entire generation of soldiers to command

Iruka Mrs.Honey,,,,,,,,

Again: do not ask me the specifics of how this would work or how they'd get there. Maybe in this AU we really lean into the bleak, child soldier side of Konoha? Like, they fucked up by not making the lessons child-friendly enough to keep them distracted w the sparkles and coolness of the shinobi world. Used too firm a hand on their kids, was a pile of explosives just waiting for a matchstick

This somehow gets in the way of the Uchiha massacre bc ofc it does (which also means Itachi gets to join the revolting children let's go)

Make it funnier and bigger, their revolts somehow spread to the other villages. The entire fucking shinobi village system is suddenly facing a major crisis: their children don't want to follow orders anymore.

Make it a "Hey let's unionize the jinchuriki" au too, they're backing up the kids let's go (plus there are quite a few who are children themselves, so that works out nicely)

Lean into like the education differences of (big) clan kids vs (small) clan kids vs civilian kids and the countless restrictions on each class, in and out of home.

You have these like, super repressed clan kids who have never known anything but the blind obedience they've been taught (could especially have fun w the Hyuuga here) but you also have these clan kids who've potentially been told and taught to keep their head down, but like, at home yk they may or may not get to be a real kid— but suddenly they can't be that anymore, bc they have to be a shinobi. And just the clashing educations and spirits of all the different upbringing between them, etc. And how they might rub off on eachother in the worst ways possible (for the adults)

Just. The kids of Konoha throwing a collective tantrum. It'd be funny!

[ghostfacd]

YOU CAN LET GO NOW ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which tom blyth can’t let go of your hand after an intense argument scene in your film

installment of this au | your character and Tom’s lines in the film are written in italics

“Action!”

Tom and you have probably been on your tenth cut by now, the scene was an argument between yours and his character, Balleona and Coriolanus. It was fierce and intense, filled with lots of angry yelling and a few tears.

Needless to say, your director was on both of your asses to make sure you got everything down perfectly, from the lines and hand movements to the crocodile tears.

“You can’t just expect everything to be okay Coriolanus!” You yell exasperated. You look up at Tom, who was currently looking down at you with a cold gaze. “You decided to cheat! You decide to risk your entire career for Lucy Gray, now you go sit with the consequences!”

Tom slams his hand on the table nearby, making you flinch back. “I had to! I did it for us! All of it! The rat poison—the scarf—I did everything for us! And now you repay me by yelling at me like a child?!”

You push Tom back with an accusing finger, eyes lingering with hurt. “You’re acting like a child Coriolanus Snow! I told you that my family has enough money, enough for you to go to university. But you just had to ruin the entire system, didn’t you? Is it Lucy Gray? The disgusting filth from District 12? Is she influencing you?”

Tom places his hand on your chin, grabbing it harshly, making you let out a whine.

“You don’t speak about her like that, do you understand?” Tom tightens his grip, making your hands come up to try to get out of his grasp. “Do you understand?!” He yells, causing you to close your eyes tightly.

“Let me go, you’re hurting me.” You say, “Coryo, let go, you’re hurting me.”

Tom’s eyes suddenly switched from anger to softness, and he lets go of his hold on your face. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He brings you into a hug, letting you bury your head into his chest. “You know I didn’t mean it right? You know you’re more important to me than Lucy Gray—that’s why I did all of this. It was for you.”

You nod, letting out a few tears. Tom breaks the hug to hold your hand, his other one coming up to wipe them away.

“And.. cut!”

Tom stops wiping the tears that have fallen down to your cheeks, sighing in relief when the director says that they don’t have to redo the scene again.

However, he’s still holding tightly on your hand, nodding slowly at each of the words that come out from the director’s mouth.

“You okay?” You whisper to him.

“Hm? Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He reassures you, smiling down at your figure. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water?”

You smile and nod, letting him walk you two over to the water dispenser. He’s still holding firmly onto your hand, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your co stars, Rachel and Josh.

“Geez Blyth, do you always have such a possessive hold on our dear Y/N here?” Rachel jokes, smiling teasingly at you two.

You roll your eyes, looking up at your boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to hear Rachel’s words, instead, focusing on getting the two of you water.

“Do you want some Rachel? Josh?”

“I’m good,” Rachel replies, “and Josh is too. We were gonna head out to this smoothie place for our lunch break.”

“Ah.” With his free hand, Tom pulls you closer to him until you’re practically leaning against him. “Well have fun you two.”

Rachel and Josh say their thanks, but before they leave, Rachel slips by you, whispering “he’s stuck to you like glue, isn’t he?” in your ear.

You try to hold in your smile, butterflies filling your stomach. Despite shooting the scene 15 minutes ago, Tom was still holding onto your hand as if you were his lifeline.

“Hey babe,” you say, which automatically makes all the gears in Tom’s hand focus their attention on you.

“Hm?”

“How come you’re still holding onto my hand?”

He seems to be surprised at your words, glancing down briefly at your intertwined fingers.

“Oh, I didn’t realize.” He says, shrugging.

“Yeah,” you tease him. “Obsessed with me aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes, but nods in agreement. “Just a habit I guess. I felt really bad for yelling at you so much in the scene and grabbing your face. I’d never do that in real life.”

You let out a laugh, making Tom furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

“Aww Tom,” you say, leaning into his chest with your head. “I know you would never do that in real life baby. It’s just acting.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just hate arguing with you, whether it’s acting or not. Coriolanus is a loser for not realizing what he has, you know.”

Now that made you laugh even louder, “yeah, but Tom Blyth is a sweetheart.” You tippy toe to reach his nose, placing a small kiss on the bridge of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[lizbeth-loon]

Bakugou, while not "tortured" like other characters, was - like those other characters - a product of his environment.

He was a literal child who said and did shitty things because he was arrogant and self absorbed and deeply, deeply insecure. He felt confused and threatened and he didn't know how to handle those feelings. He defaulted to anger and arrogance because that's what he knew and was comfortable with - and that was repeatedly excused or even encouraged by the adults in his life.

We're literally told in chapter one that (while still largely excused) his behavior is unusually extreme. We START at his absolute worst moment (in middle school!) and watch him struggle to untangle his mess and improve from there.

And he faced real world consequences, some of which were off the charts disproportionate! (like being muzzled and restrained in front of a national audience, or you know, kidnapped and nearly killed by adult villains and feeling personally responsible for the end of his personal hero) but his "victim" never showed him anything but grace, understanding, and admiration.

Then, still a child, he came to realize - mostly on his own - that he had been wrong, that his behavior was shitty and unjustified, and he wanted to change. And he stuck to that, making great effort to atone with his actions and then very publicly verbally owning up to what he'd done and apologizing as well.

And he was very clear in that he did not expect to be forgiven or for them to be as close as they used to be. His only concern was undoing damage he'd contributed to, being a better hero and friend, and protecting the life and happiness of someone he cared about.

Endeavor was a grown ass man with an obsession who emotionally and physically abused his wife and children until his past literally came back to bite him in the ass. It took him his whole adult life to realize he was wrong. Not even the violent death of his son or his wife literally losing her mind was enough.

He was pushed into change by the sudden pressure and spotlight of being the #1 hero and his children's unhidden disgust and contempt that he could no longer ignore.

And yes he also made a continuous effort to change, but he had a LOT more to make up for and right alongside that he expected this effort to be met with a perfect happy ending and "being a family again" until the past once again refused to go quietly into the night.

Kind of comparing apples and oranges, and being mad that the oranges aren't pineapples, no?

Can you stop with the with the whole “bully secretly loves his victim,” BS with Bakugou?

It’s pathetic.

Bakugou shouldn’t have never gotten a redemption arc.

His redemption arc is crap compared to Endeavor’s.

Bakugo is worse than Shigaraki. Shigaraki was a tortured character.

Dabi was a tortured character,

Toga was a tortured character.

Bakugo was a a butthurt spoiled brat who had everything handed to him and threw a fit when he wasn’t getting his way and tortured and blamed Deku for everything.

Stop being a bully apologist.

Die mad ✌️

I can do what I want

[ellecdc]

can you pleasee do dad!Sirius x AFAB reader with a young child please I'm craving it. Maybe the kid got a cold and everyone's worried idk but I would love to see how Sirius would spoil her or take care of her

poor dramatic sirius hahaha. thanks for your request!

dad!Sirius Black x mum!reader whose child is sick [534 words]

CW: kid fic, fluff, the reader is actually gender neutral (no gender specified) but is the other parent of the child and I wrote it with a fem!reader in mind

“That snot-nosed little mouth breather isn’t allowed over anymore.” Sirius muttered into the crown of Aurora's head from his place on the couch; your daughter laid stretched across his torso with her cheek smooshed against his chest as she breathed audibly through her mouth on account of her stuffed up nose. She was a pitiful sight, though she seemed wholly safe and content in her father’s arms.  

Now, you were quite sure you heard what Sirius had said, but you had to ask again just to be certain; or just in case he wanted to amend his statement. 

“What?” 

“I said,” Sirius started, looking at you pointedly over the child’s head to ensure you were listening; you had to admit, Sirius was very good at making his points with his entire chest, “that snot-nosed little mouth breather isn’t allowed over anymore.”

“Sirius,” you chided, though you were sure your smile was audible in your voice, “are you talking about your godson?” 

“Uhm, is my godson a snot-nosed little mouth breather?” He asked in faux derision, face crumpling in misery when Aurora let out a rattling cough in her sleep. “My poor sweet girl; look what he’s done to her!” 

“I hardly think he did this on purpose, Sirius.” You scolded around a smile. “We have no idea if he even had the sniffles before he came over.”

“Oh, I’m sure he definitely did have the sniffles before he came over.” Sirius countered bitterly; hand rubbing soothingly up and down Aurora’s back as she drooled on his chest to which he was either ignorant or wholly unbothered. “Then James went and sent him over anyway. Probably payback.”

“Payback?”

“I just never thought he’d stoop so low as to biological warfare,” he continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all, “and my child?! No, it’s not right at all. Who do we call about this, hm? The Scotland Yard? Or do we take this right to the UN for war crimes?”

“Sirius-”

“She’s too sweet to be so poorly.” He murmured quietly then, bottom lip jutting out comically as he looked at you beseechingly. 

“Baby.” You sighed, finally standing up from the chair to kneel beside Sirius and Aurora’s forms on the sofa. Of course, your arrival came at the price of two kisses for Sirius, both of which you paid eagerly. “Kids get sick, my love. And when she ends up in school, she’ll be coming home sick every other week.”

“That’s disgusting.” Sirius pouted. 

“I know.” You agreed quickly. “But being exposed to some illnesses also helps build up their immune systems. Maybe now she’ll stand a better chance against all the other snot-nosed little mouth breathers she’ll meet at nursery school.” 

Sirius let out a long suffering sigh, though his eyes remained glued to your face and his hands continued their broad strokes along Aurora’s pyjama clad back. “So I shouldn’t call the UN?”

“No.”

“Not yet.” Sirius compromised, looking into the room unseeingly. “But I will have to get James back for this. Maybe we’ll send Harry home jacked up on sugar and treats? Oh! We’ll get him a puppy. No! Four puppies!” 

You hid your smile (and the roll of your eyes) behind pressing a kiss to your daughter’s overly hot forehead.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud VII

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your biological parents want a meeting

*TW: discussions of past child abuse*

Pernille can still remember the pictures from the police.

Nestled in with other pictures of your childhood, you were just a baby. A baby sitting on a big hospital bed in just her nappy and mottle of bruises around her skin, wrapped around you like a vine.

It was sickening and Pernille can remember dropping your foster file in shock.

She hadn't been able to equate the twelve year old moving into her house with the baby that had been so horribly abused.

According to the police report, they'd been called after a disturbance in the house. Bottles shattering. People shouting. A sound violation more than anything else.

But no one had answered the door when the police knocked.

They had been planning to leave if it wasn't for the wailing of the baby, the wailing of you.

They'd forced their way in after that, finding you laying on the floor, covered in your own sick and with way too high a fever for a baby.

What was standard child neglect turned into a child abuse charge at the hospital when your dirty onesie had been taken off to reveal all the bruises down your skin and the dilation of your pupils showing the concussion you'd received.

Rights were terminated by a judge and into the system you went.

The picture is etched into Pernille's mind though, something that appears to her any time you get injured, any time you go down in a match.

The picture appears to her now as she sits in a mediation meeting with your biological parents.

These are the people that did that to you.

The people that had bruised you and caused you a concussion.

The people that had their rights terminated because of their treatment of you.

The same people that sit in front of Pernille and Magda in ill-fitting clothes and unkempt hair. They're smiling a bit too widely, mismatched on their sagging faces.

"So," The lawyer that they've clearly paid an extortionate amount for says," We're here to discuss Miss Y/n L/n-"

"Harder," Magda says at Pernille's side," That's her name. Y/n Harder."

The lawyer flashes her a saccharine smile. "Of course. We're here to discuss visitation with my clients."

"Their rights were terminated." The same lawyer that helped finalise your adoption is the same one in the meeting with Magda and Pernille now. "Years ago. They have no leg to stand on. Visitation isn't something they can have."

"I have reason to believe that the judge that terminated their rights made a hasty decision," The slimy lawyer says back," My clients have put their lives back together and are ready to see their daughter again."

"I can't help but think this timing is a bit coincidental," Their lawyer returns," My client's child has had a breakout year as a footballer, joining the senior Sweden team so her face has been plastered on the tv everywhere. A bit coincidental that this is the time that your clients decide to reach out."

"Well, she was taken out of the country."

"When she was sixteen," Magda puts in bluntly," They had sixteen years before that. We live in Germany now."

"We were looking for her!" Your biological mother says," It's all just one big conspiracy against us!"

This is the woman who left you in a pile of your own sick, crying and sobbing and covered in bruises, suffering from a concussion that could have killed you.

Pernille feels sick, rage bubbling in her stomach.

"Oh, grow up! You're not nearly important enough to have a conspiracy around you!" She slams her hands onto the table. "You are nothing to her! She doesn't even know your names!"

Magda pulls at Pernille's hand, weakly at first and then a little harder when it doesn't look like Pernille wants to sit down again.

"Let me put it plainly," Pernille and Magda's lawyer says," My clients and their daughter have a packed schedule in Germany playing football for club and then football internationally. Their daughter is sixteen years old and is capable of making decisions by herself. Your clients have no parental rights and will not be getting them back."

"How dare-"

"I believe this meeting is finished."

You weren't in the dark about this meeting. You'd been told the moment the Magda and Pernille were sent the letter about it.

You just hadn't wanted to attend, sitting in the nearby café with your schoolwork spread out in front of you.

You expected it to take longer than it did so you'd brought a lot of your science homework.

You check your watch as Pernille and Magda slump down into the seats in front of you.

"Half an hour. I thought it would take at least an hour."

"Pernille went off on them. It was kind of hot."

You wrinkle your nose. "Gross."

Pernille huffs in her seat, arms crossed. "The gall of them! The audacity! You're not going anywhere near them, do you understand me? They don't even deserve to breathe the same air as you!"

A grin quirks your lips upward. "It's nice you hold me in such high regard."

"You're my daughter. They're nothing."

"I'm not all that much."

"You are to me."

You hold her gaze for a moment.

There's something immovable in her eyes, staring at you like she's daring you to challenge her.

You drop your eyes with a smile.

"Do either of you know anything about nuclear fission? I'm drawing a blank."

[dinarosie]

I Was Bullied Too, So Why Didn’t I Turn Out Like Severus Snape?

I came across an anti-Snape post where someone shared their experience of being bullied in school. They said that even though they were bullied, they were able to overcome it, which is why they admired James Potter—because he changed and stopped being a bully. However, they hate Snape for not being able to move on from his past.

Everyone has the right to hate or love the characters based on their taste but What bothers me is how people often compare their own trauma to others' and disregard the genetic and environmental differences that shape us as individuals. I’ve decided to write a long post comparing my own life with Snape’s—two people who were both bullied as children. it was difficult for me to write this post, but I hope this comparison shows that not everyone who experiences bullying ends up the same. The variances in our upbringing and support systems play a crucial role in shaping who we become.

When I was seven years old, I was mocked and humiliated by a group of older girls on the school bus (they were eleven at the time). They made it clear that they bullied me because I was smaller and weaker than them. They treated me in a way that made me believe I deserved their bullying. I thought a weak and ugly girl like me was deserving of all their humiliation. They would mess up my hair, pull it, and ridicule me for having messy and ugly hair. Whenever I cried, they laughed. They didn't even let me be friends with other girls. To torment me further, they would point at me, whisper to each other, and giggle, making me feel even more isolated. I had allergies and a runny nose, and they wouldn’t let me wipe it, which they used as another reason to belittle me, saying I was disgusting. Even if there was an empty seat, they wouldn’t let me sit with them because I was "gross." I was terrified of them, hated school because of them, and cried every morning, begging not to go to school.

But why didn’t I turn out like Severus Snape?

1- I grew up like a normal child in every other aspect of my life. I was cared for and valued. I always had birthday parties with cake and gifts. I was praised when I got good grades. I had friends outside of school to play with, went on family vacations, and had fun times. From childhood to adulthood, I’ve had a safe home, enough sleep, good food, and a loving family.

2- I had parents who loved and cared about me. When my mother found out about the bullying, she went to the school and demanded they stop it. My parents also enrolled me in a private school to protect me from further bullying. When I started having nightmares and trouble sleeping, they took me to a child therapist.

3- My grandparents adored me. I would stay at their house when my parents were at work, and they made my childhood even more joyful. I always had safe arms to run to. Plus, my aunts and uncles cared for me and regularly took me to parks and other fun places, showering me with gifts and making sure I enjoyed my time.

4- My family had a respectable place in society, and I was never shamed or humiliated because of my family's circumstances. My father cared for me, my sister, and my mother, and he worked hard to provide for our needs. He respected my mother, and I never witnessed any abuse from him toward her.

5- My family had a stable income, and I always had new, appropriate clothes to wear. I never had to worry about poverty, hunger, or wearing hand-me-downs that would make me feel inferior to my peers.

6- My bullies mocked me, but they never caused me serious physical harm. I never feared for my life or sexual assault at school. The bullying was short-lived, lasting less than two years, and by the time I was a teenager, it had completely stopped. As I grew older, I made plenty of good friends and was popular among them. I have many fond memories from high school with my friends.

7- As a teenager, I didn’t worry about my future. My concerns were not about surviving a war, avoiding humiliation, or escaping poverty. I was free to plan my life, knowing I would go to university and study what I loved. Whenever I needed help, I knew I could count on my family—they were always there to support me.

8- I’m a psychology student, and studying this field has completely shifted my perspective on myself and others. It has allowed me to see the world with greater depth and empathy. I’ve become better at recognizing not only my own psychological wounds but also those of others, which has helped me connect with people on a deeper level. I've also sought therapy, both in-person and online, and have seen positive results. While I still struggle with some issues from my past—like feeling insecure about my appearance, doubting people’s motives, and having a hard time trusting—I’ve learned how to manage these feelings fairly well.

All of these factors combined have shaped me into someone different from Severus Snape. Yes, I was bullied, but I didn’t turn out like him because, unlike Snape, I was given numerous opportunities to grow, to experience love and joy, to heal, and to find pleasure in life.

Now, It’s much easier for someone like me to be kind and nice to others, to love people, to forgive myself and others, and to move on from those who don’t like me. It’s easier for me to see the world and people not as threats but with a more mature and balanced perspective. but I’m under no illusion that I am a better and more worthy person than Severus Snape or anyone like him who didn’t have the chance to heal. I simply know that I’ve been luckier, and for that, I’m grateful. But I never want to dismiss or belittle the suffering of others or blame them for their psychological struggles.

I can’t say for certain what I would’ve done in Snape’s exact situation or how bitter I might’ve become. But I’m certain of one thing: I could never be as brave or as selfless as Snape was, sacrificing his own life so readily for others. I know that I could never be a hero like him.

[starkwlkr]

Hi, I love your Ruby universe. Can I request Ruby's first day at pre-k and Charles being a nervous wreck about it.

just like papa | charles leclerc

idk how the school system works in monaco or at what age the kids start school there so if i get anything wrong, please correct me <3 also instead of charles being nervous, it’s my girl ruby 👀

another similar request: Hi, I really like your work, could you do a picture of Ruby at school and what her experience would be like

small mention of charles’ father

Charles was extremely thankful that he wasn’t racing or in another country when the day of Ruby’s first day of nursery school arrived. A week before, she was excited. She had gone shopping with Pascale and Y/n and picked out a new backpack, supplies, new shoes and clothes. Everyday leading up to the first day of nursery, she would make sure she had everything in her backpack. She didn’t want to miss anything.

But then came the first day nerves on the night before she would officially be in school.

“You’re going to have so much fun, Ruby.” Charles assured the girl who was too nervous to even go to sleep. “You’re going to meet other children make friends.”

“Is it scary?” Ruby asked.

“It’ll seem scary at first but then you won’t want to leave.”

The nerves were still there the next morning. Ruby was always a bit energetic in the mornings no matter what, but now she was a little too quiet. She ate her breakfast in silence, spoon full of cereal in one hand while the other held her bunny plush she had named floppy.

“Good morning, my Ruby Jules.” Charles entered the dining room and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s temple to greet her. “Ready for school?”

Ruby hugged floppy tighter and slowly nodded. She remained quiet.

“It’s okay to be scared, mon amour. I get scared before I race too. But guess what? You’re the bravest girl I know.” Charles said.

“You’re brave too,” Ruby finally spoke. “Just like papa.” She said, referring to Hervé. Charles had told many stories about his father to Ruby, which convinced her that her grandfather was a brave, kind, loving man.

“Yes, just like papa.”

Y/n joined her family and watched as they continued their talk about nursery school. “Are you taking floppy?” She questioned the girl. Floppy was like another member of the family. She was a gift from Arthur when she was just born. She quickly grew an attachment to the stuffed animal.

“Can I?” Ruby asked.

Before Y/n could say anything, Charles spoke. “Of course you can. Floppy can join you everyday.” Ruby cracked a smile. Now she felt like herself again knowing floppy was joining her.

Y/n knew she would have to talk to Ruby’s teacher about taking floppy. She hoped the teacher would understand and let Ruby and floppy stay together.

“Okay, finish up. We have to get you to school, baby.” Y/n said to Ruby, who happily nodded and ate the rest of her cereal.

Charles wasn’t going to let Ruby and Y/n go to the nursery alone. He wanted to see Ruby enter the classroom with his very own eyes. It wasn’t everyday his little girl would experience her first day of school. He felt like his girl was growing up even though she was just going to school. He didn’t want to miss that.

The nursery was a walking distance from their home so as the family of three walked, Charles told Ruby about his nursery days. He didn’t remember much, but he told her good things to help ease her nerves.

“By the end of the day, you’re going to be even smarter. You might even be smarter than papa.” Y/n teased.

“She already is, right?” Charles looked down at the little girl who was holding his hand.

“You’re smart, papa.” Ruby smiled at Charles.

“Thank you, my Ruby Jules.”

As the family arrived to the gates of the nursery, Ruby began to feel the nerves again. She held onto floppy as Y/n greeted a friend who was also dropping off her child. Soon, they found themselves inside the nursery school. The hallways were painted with bright colors and had tiny handprints with names written on them. Ruby gripped Charles’ hand as they walked to Ruby’s classroom.

“Welcome! I’m Ms. Olivia.” A woman greeted the family at the door.

“Hi, I’m Y/n and this is my husband, Charles. And this is our daughter, Ruby.” Y/n introduced her family.

Ms. Olivia crouched down to meet with Ruby. “Hello, Ruby. I’m your teacher.” The woman smiled warmly.

Ruby looked unsure. In that moment, she wanted to be anywhere else, she’d rather be with her grand-meré. She backed away until her back hit Charles’ knees.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” Ms. Olivia assured. She then looked at the stuffed bunny in Ruby’s hand. “That’s a lovely bunny. What’s their name?”

Ruby looked up at her papa and mama as if asking if it was okay to talk to the woman. Charles nodded at her.

“His name is floppy.” Ruby said quietly.

“That’s a pretty name. I have more toys for you and floppy to play with. Would you like to see them?” Ms. Olivia asked.

Ruby looked around the classroom. It was filled with kids her age. Some were playing with dolls or trucks, others were coloring. Y/n could see Ruby was still nervous.

“Is it okay if we go in with her?” Y/n asked the teacher.

“Of course. Most parents do that because of how nervous the kids get on their first day.” Ms. Olivia explained.

The family entered the classroom and found a table and chairs where they could sit at. Problem was that the chairs were small since it was designed for a child so the parents looked like giants in the chairs.

“Look, we can color.” Y/n saw blank coloring pages and a pack of crayons on the table. She passed the page and crayons to Ruby. “What color are you going to make the butterfly?”

Ruby shrugged, still holding onto floppy. “I don’t know. Papa, what color?” She asked Charles.

“What about blue? Blue is a nice color.” Charles said.

“Floppy likes blue.” Ruby added. “Mama, what color do you want?”

“I think pink goes nice with the blue.”

As Ruby colored, Charles took the opportunity to take out his phone and take a few pictures of his daughter on her first day of nursery school. He sent them to his family group chat and of course to Pierre.

“That looks beautiful, baby. Let’s put your name so everyone knows who colored it so pretty.” Y/n said once Ruby was done coloring in the butterfly.

Ruby grabbed a red crayon in her left hand. Just like her uncle Arthur, she was a lefty. It was actually Arthur’s fault for Ruby being left handed. He dared the girl to write with her left hand so she practiced for a whole month and it just kinda stuck with her.

“Rubyyyy Ju . . . Jules.” Ruby sounded out her name. “What goes next?”

Y/n chuckled. “Your next name is Louise. Lou . . . ise. There you go, you’re my smart girl.”

It wasn’t really readable at all, but to Ruby, it was her name. It looked like scribbles, but she didn’t care.

“And what’s your last name, mon amour?” Charles asked.

“Yours!” Ruby excitedly said.

“Yes, but what is it?”

“Gasly.”

Y/n tried to hold in her laughter once she heard Ruby. Charles quietly laughed as Ruby looked confused as to why her parents were even laughing.

“Baby, that’s uncle Pierre’s last name. Ours is Leclerc.” Charles explained to her.

“I know, but can I put Gasly too? Then I can show Uncle Pierre.”

“I’m sure Pierre is going to love it.” Y/n nodded, still holding in the laugh.

“Okay, how do you spell it?”

Liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc and 739,266 others

charles_leclerc baby leclerc takes on nursery school

scuderiaferrari good luck from all of us here at Ferrari!

lewishamilton the smartest girl already❤️

pierregasly tell her to stop growing up or I’m going to get mad

charles_leclerc she says she wants to be tall so she can give you all the kisses and hugs

pierregasly ok then she can grow 😌

lorenzotl hope she had a great first day!

charles_leclerc she wants to show you her drawings

lorenzotl on my way with ice cream❤️

[drghostwrite]

Dark Nights

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x preg!wife!reader

Summary:

********************************************************

"You can't ask that of her!" Natasha yelled across the table. You were both called into a conference room with Fury and agent Hill, they were talking about a last-minute mission though your wife was concerned about your approaching due date. While they argued and Maria played referee you found yourself staring out the window of the large conference room a million things running through your mind, one hand running along your bump as your baby kicked.

"And who are you to decide that?" Nick Fury shot back at the other agent.

"I'm her wife." Nat responded.

"Oh because that's stopped other agents before." He responded

"Fury you know I respect you but that's my wife, the mother of my child, our unborn child that in case you haven't noticed she's carrying."

"Okay, okay, before this goes any farther... How about we ask Y/N, she is sitting right here." Maria finally spoke up, motioning to your distracted form.

"Y/N?" you're wife gently called.

You rubbed a hand over your eyes trying to clear your head taking in a gasp before refocusing your eyes on them, "If and I mean IF I were to agree to this what all would it entail?"

"Well that..."

"No I want full disclosure, no more confidentiality and clearance levels, if I'm doing this and potentially putting my life and the life of my unborn child on the line I need to know everything." Nat sat next to you and turned to Fury.

"We had a situation a few years back, an agency that's been working against SHEILD, they used to be a part of Hydra but they reformed, they have recruited agaents and took over one of our smaller compounds, though it's to be evacuated this week to keep their identities a secret, we need someone to get in ther."

"That's where I asked why they picked you with being on leave."

"My main concern isn't getting you in, it's the systems on the inside, all the coders did was build into the SHEILD mainframe, they have no access to us but they have similar systems so I need someone that's a trained agent, and good with the computers, it would be in and out, need to know basis, all I need you to do is get in, crash their systems and get out."

"So that's where I come in?"

"Exactly."

"Okay, in and out, only on the condition that you do have agents on site and Natasha is in the command center, I want her in my ear at all times."

"Whatever gets you onboard, let's get you briefed and prepped for the field." Fury said.

---time jump---

You turned down the hallway, dimly lit by soft baseboard lights, you turned another corner but quickly pushed back when you saw two guards stationed outside the control room, any other time you would've just incapacitated them both but being 36 weeks pregnant wasn't helping you much.

"Natasha?"

"Y-Y/N? I'm r-r-ri-ght here what'sss go-going on-n?" The intercoms were breaking up which meant your job was going to get that much harder. "Two guards outside the command room, change of plans."

"Detka please, be careful."

"Will do, intercoms are getting scratchy, if this is it till I get out of here, I love you Natasha."

You made the decision that if you couldn't get in the control room you could still shut it down remotely, so you backtracked and took some different turns stumbling upon the old director's office, silently patting yourself on the back and opening the door.

You walked over to the desk, and brushed your hand along the command bar that's built into the desk, the hovering screens flashed to life. You swiped moving the screens around, they asked for your password and thanked Tony Stark for giving you a built in back door, when Ultron took over he built a back pathway that allowed you access but nothing was associated to you as a person so you had access to the entire system without anyones knowledge. You quickly started working pulling up the mainframe and started untagling the mess the rebellion had created, you were so close to unraveling the whole thing when you felt a sharp pain running through your abdomen.

You stopped in your tracks waiting to see if it was just your imagination, but then another one, this time catching you off guard causing you to keel over using the desk for support. "shit, shit, shit... this can't be happening." you said worry flooding your features, you tried calming yourself but you knew what this could mean.

"Natasha?" You called over the intercoms, but no response so you tried again but you realized there was no signal, you were alone and going into labor. You thought about backtracking and alerting them but as you went to exit the office you heard footsteps, quickly swiping the screens dark again you watched as the guards walked by standing next to the door frozen, you felt the warm liquid running down your legs and realized that this was it, the night just went from dangerous to deadly if you didn't get help quickly. Your water just broke and you were by yourself in an enemy compound with no way to communicate with anyone outside.

You cringed as another contraction took over your body pressing a hand tightly under your swollen bump, "Oh baby not now, please not now." you brought the screens back up typing rapidly, taking the mainframe down meant potentially setting off a bunch of alarms which meant that you would be exposing yourself in the height of labor.

"Okay wait if this is built into the SHEILD mainframe I can get ahold of your other mommy...Oh God..." Another contraction took over, you slid to the floor, pulling out your phone you connected it to the computer sending an "SOS" to Nat hoping that she would get it in time.

"Okay baby, this is me and you until we get help, so I'm gonna need you to slow down a little bit." you ran a hand over your bump closing your eyes and leaning against the strong desk.

You moved quickly into the adjoining room moving into the corner, grimacing at the pain of your baby trying to make it's way into the world, "God you're as impatient as your mother...Nnngghh."

You heard the door to the office start to open and held your breath, hearing light footsteps, and saw as a light scanned the room.

"Y/N... detka are you in here?" you heard a whispering voice call out.

"Natasha?" you called, you listened as hurried footsteps moved towards you, the door swung open revealing your wife. As she looked in on you her worst fears coming true, she quickly got down in front of you, running a hand soothingly along your thigh.

"Y/N what's going on?"

"It-it's the baby...Nnghh, Natasha our baby is coming," you said and tears started to fall, you were a trained agent one of the best to ever step foot in SHIELD, you were an Avenger a super soldier, but in this moment you were scared out of your mind.

"Um, okay baby it's okay."

"M-my water broke...we need to get out of here"

"Okay, Y/N it'll all be okay, Maria is outside getting a hold of Steve she's calling in a rescue team, you know Bucky will be breaking down that door as soon as he finds out."

"I-I cannghh..." you gripped her hand throwing your head back gritting through a contraction, "I got you baby, just breathe."

"Nat this is happening now."

"Okay, then let's do this." she said as you slowly shook your head agreeing with her.

"Okay, my pants you gotta help me." you said pushing at the waistband, she quickly hooked her fingers in your pants pulling them off along with your panties and laying them to the side.

"Y/N, I can see it... I can see the head."

"Whaa- no I-I no this wasn't supposed to happen like this... Nat I can't do this... Hhahh, I can't do this."

"Y/N Romanoff yes you can, you are my wife, one of the strongest people I know I've never once seen you back down from a challenge or a threat and you protect the ones you love so fiercely, I never once doubted starting a family with you, so if anyone knows, I do. I know that you can do this."

"Woouuu...Nnghh." you tried but these contractions were getting closer and closer, "I-I need to push."

"Okay, follow your body." you pushed, your nails digging into Natasha's shoulder as she was bent down in between your legs, she was reassuring you while you fought through a few more contractions.

"Okay Y/N head is out, just a couple more and we meet our baby." you tried to answer but the contractions were too close, you pushed a couple more times before your wife was holding your newborn in her arms.

"It's a girl, we have a baby girl." you listened as her cries filled the room, you started feeling lightheaded.

"Natasha I don't feel so good."

"Y/N, I-Y/N..." she said noticing the blood, you were bleeding fast and she realized that you needed to get out of there asap.

She heard as the door to the office crashed in, "Y/N! Natasha!" you heard Bucky yell out, he moved around the room and stopped outside the door hearing your newborn daughter's cries, he opened it coming in.

"Is that?"

"Yes." Natasha said tears in her eyes, and he quickly realized how dire the situation was.

"Bucky, she, the blood..."

"Okay let's go I got her." He quickly picked you up making sure you were covered and started out the door. Natasha saw the screens still live and hit the execute button, running our behind Bucky with your baby in her arms.

46 hours later and the mission had been executed, you were finally awake and safely at your home holding your baby girl, Natasha was next to you holding you both in her arms, you had minor hemorrhaging after the birth but luckily had some of the best doctors around, meaning you made it out almost completely unscathed and with a perfectly healthy baby girl. Though you and Nat quickly agreed that next time there would be no last-minute missions so close to your due date.

[whenmemorydies]

You love taking care of people: Fine Dining in the Time of Late Stage Capitalism

CW: this post discusses toxic and abusive workplaces and makes brief mention of institutional child abuse and intergenerational trauma. I might also talk about global systems collapse, for shits and giggles. Also this is another long one. You know the drill. Lets have a cuppa. Also this is my last minute submission to Sydcarmy Week 2024 and the theme of “you love taking care of people”. Enjoy!

I have a confession to make to The Bear fandom:

The food is my least favourite part of this show.

Its not that its not interesting. It definitely is. I'm a home cook and for the most part, I enjoy cooking (when I can do it at my leisure and not like most mothers, while balancing the mental load). I just find all the other aspects of the show much more fascinating.

In fact, I think this show about a bunch of cooks in commercial kitchens is so popular not so much because of its take up of cooking but its unflinching and loving interrogation of grief and trauma, including the kinds that get passed down through families.

The truth is, I've also never been overly excited about the world of "fine dining." I grew up in a large, Tamil family and so our meals were big, shared and not necessarily conducive to the minimalist plating preferred in exclusive, "gourmet" spaces:

Photograph is mine, delicious Jaffna Tamil spread is the handiwork of my great aunt (Kunchi Ammamma or “little maternal grandmother”), arguably the best cook in our sprawling, extended family.

As tumultous as family life could get, I often experienced meals (that, lets be real, were almost always prepared by the women in my family) with my loved ones as a happy experience. I mean we also had our share of blow ups at the kitchen table but what was always consistent was the love and care that went into the food that we were given to eat. It was woven into the rich and complex flavours that made up the curries, varais, and sambals we had on our plates (and that even now, make me salivate just thinking about). It was spread throughout the warm, coconut-y rotis and steaming rice and puttu we ate with our hands and used to mop up all that spicy, flavourful goodness.

And if there's one question I heard more than any other from older family members growing up, it was "ni sappittiya?" ("have you eaten?"). More than "how are you?" and definitely more than "I love you." As with many Global South cultures, for Tamil folks, food is used for nourishment but also as a primary means of conveying deep care. Obviously Tamil people don't have the monopoly on using food to show their affection (or even the monopoly on using food to replace actually saying the words "I love you" lmao). Food has been found to increase interpersonal closeness and can also contribute to emotional regulation. Feeding a child is one of the first means of bonding between parents and children. Food also plays a big role in the course of romantic love: as a basis for first dates and future time spent with a partner, and of course also as an aphrodisiac.

As Cesar Chavez, Mexican-American civil rights activist, labor organiser and co-founder of the National Farm Workers Association (which later became the United Farm Workers union) said,

The people who give you their food, give you their heart.

You love taking care of people

Conveying care and love through food is a theme that comes up repeatedly in The Bear. Recall 1x02 Hands and the phone conversation with Nat and Carmy:

Natalie: Chefs always say a big part of the job is taking care of people, right?

Carmen: Yeah, yeah. No I guess.

Also recall an almost identical bit of dialogue between Carmy and Sydney, under the world's most famous table that had absolutely nothing wrong with it in 2x09 Omelette:

Carmen: You love taking care of people.

Sydney: Yeah I guess.

Here's some further mirroring between Sydney and Carmy about giving people joy through food. Recall again the phone call between Carmy and Nat in 1x02 Hands:

Natalie: When did the breathing problem start?

Carmen: I think maybe sometime in New York. I was throwing up every day before work.

[...] Chef was a piece of shit.

Natalie: Then why'd you stay there?

Carmen: People loved the food. It felt good.

Also recall the conversation between Sydney and Marcus in 1x08 Braciole:

Sydney: I want to cook for people and make them happy, and give them the best bacon on Earth.

Be gentle with each other, so that you can fight stronger together: seasons 1-2 of The Bear

As rough and tumble as The Beef was, the clear throughline in season 1 (when The Beef was in operation) was the importance of the relationships and care between the show's characters. This was also the case in season 2 where the majority of the season was spent in the context of renovations and training prior to the opening of The Bear (in that season's last episode).

In season 1, we had Carmy leading the crew at The Beef by being patient, clearly explaining technique and positively reinforcing his staff's work.

Above left: Carmy walking the BOH crew through making Donna Berzatto's Lemon Chicken Piccata in 1x05 Sheridan. Above right: Carmy encouraging the crew to keep up their current pace in 1x06 Ceres.

We saw him working with Sydney, supportively encouraging the team to go further, to push themselves. We even saw Carmy at ease enough to talk about Mikey and his mother while at work. We had a Carmy showing us how integrated he can be.

Above: Carmy and Tina in 1x05 Sheridan

Heck, we even had a Carmy who wanted to get a compost installed at The Beef for processing food so that it didn't go to waste. Recall this golden bit of dialogue between him and Sweeps in 1x01 System:

Carmen: Eh yo Gary, you set up a compost for me today, Chef?

Sweeps: After I do my thing in the place.

Carmen: That's very clear. Thank you.

We had a Carmy who had time. Recall the below scene in 1x02 Hands before Sydney gives Carmy her draft business plan for The Beef (that she drafted on her own initiative and time to support his family's struggling business. If this man doesn't hurry up and fight for her in s4 istg...):

Sydney: Hey you got time?

Carmen: Always. What's up?

Similarly, we had Carmen in the first episode of season 2 making time to talk to a clearly distraught Richie:

Richie: Yo you ever think about purpose?

Carmen: I love you, but I do not have time for this, alright? *starts to walk up the stairs out of the basement*

Richie: *Nods, looks dejected, sniffs*

Carmen: I have time for this. *comes back down the stairs and sits with Richie*

Most pointedly in season 1 we had the conversation between Sydney and Carmy in 1x03 Brigade which lays the blueprint for their joint vision for the restaurant and which should have acted as a touchstone for both of them in season 3:

Sydney: You know, I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.

When I said I didn't think that the brigade was a good idea, you didn't listen. And its not that you told me that I had to. [...] But you just didn't really listen and if this is going to work the way that I think we both want it to work [...] I think we should probably try to listen to each other.

Carmen: Yeah. You're right.

Sydney: The reason I'm here and not working somewhere else, or for someone else, is 'cause I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don't wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don't care about, or running brunch, God forbid.

Carmen: *nods vigorously*

In season 2 while The Beef undergoes its facelift into The Bear, some of the show's most beautiful moments were when characters displayed their faith and trust in one another. Recall 2x01 Beef where Sydney asks Tina to be her sous chef, or 2x02 Pasta where Sydney and Carmy send Tina and Ebra to culinary school (and Tina's unwavering belief in and support for a nervous Ebra once they get there), and 2x03 Sundae and 2x04 Honeydew where we see Carmy and Sydney send Marcus to Copenhagen to stage with Chef Luca and build up his skills as a pâtissier.

So what happened at The Bear?

Season 3 of the show has been the most divisive of the series, with its preceding two seasons being almost unanimously adored by fans and critics alike. There's been a lot of debate on here and elsewhere as to why this is the case. What appears to be a dominant line of reasoning in this regard is the shift in Carmy and his approach to running The Bear as a fine dining institution.

At The Bear, we have Carmy as an Executive Chef who's berating, hostile, and blaming everyone else for his emotional state ("You guys are fucking killing me"). We have a Carmy who has taken "every second counts" to a point so minute that he has given up smoking because of the time away from the kitchen that it will cost him. We have a Carmy who has no patience for his team, almost all of whom have no experience working in fine dining before the opening night of The Bear. We see how out of sync Carmy and Sydney are ("Been off"). We have a Carmy who is reverting to patterns of behaviour that have been modelled for him by two of his abusers: his mother, Donna Berzatto and his previous boss, Chef David Fields, Executive Chef at Empire.

Perhaps second only to Donna and her stand in Claire, Chef David Fields' toxic legacy haunts season 3 of The Bear.

This is nowhere more clear than in the sheer wasting of food and money in season 3 epitomised by Carmy's insistence on changing the The Bear's menu every day (to quote Tina: "Every day, Joffrey Ballet?!") and his repeated throwing out of dishes he deemed "not perfect."

The waste did not go unnoticed by other characters on the show. Recall Natalie telling Carmy off in 3x03 Doors:

Natalie: The menu cost is out of control.

Carmen: Nat, figure it out.

Natalie: Oh. Oh. Figure it out? Wow.

Carmen: Figure it out.

Natalie: Why don't you fucking figure it out?

Carmen: I'm trying to use less shit.

Natalie: Okay, well, whatever you're doing, the R&D [research & development] of that, its fucking us.

Carmen: Well, we're using the best shit.

Natalie: Duh. Duh. Well, duh.

Carmen: Duh? Don't duh. No duh. [lmao this dialogue]

Natalie: Don't buy fucking crazy shit and then use it once, Carm. It's so wasteful. Duh! Duh, duh. Fucking duh, bro.

In episode 3x05 Children, Uncle Jimmy commissions The Computer to come in and run analytics on The Bear in an effort to get its costs under control (LOL at his assessment below, scrawled on the back of the dodgiest looking pie chart I've ever seen):

Computer: This sample is based on the month and a half we've been operating and does not take into account any funds spent previously on build, friends and family budget, other assorted fuckery.

Carmen: I mean, there hasn't been that much fuckery.

Cicero: Oh neph. You specialise in the fucking fuckery, bro.

Uncle Jimmy had plenty to say about Carmy's use of the former's funds (which Jimmy has duly invested in The Bear to support his nephew) including Carmy's decision to spend $11,268.00 on Orwellian butter (aka Dystopian Butter from the Fucking Rare Transylvanian Five-Titted Goat, lmao).

Even Carmy was under no delusions about how wasteful he was being this season. Recall his discussion with Sydney in 3x05 Children:

Sydney: You know what we should be doing?

Carmen: Produce vendor. You don't have to say it.

Sydney: Okay, I didn't say it then. I didn't say anything. Do you want me to say something?

Carmen: That I'm jamming us up 'cause we have a new menu every day and the economics aren't great?

Sydney: Well, I'm an accomplice, so...

Note: the language in this small bit of dialogue struck me as being off. Why does Sydney needs Carmy's permission to say anything? Its like she knows that he knows the constantly changing menu and exorbitant expenses are an issue but doesn't want to say anything until Carmy brings it up first. @yannaryartside has a great break down drawing the analogy between Sydney's "accomplice" confession here with Molly Ringwald's (sorry I dunno what her character's name was) confession about facilitating her partner's substance abuse, during an Al-Anon meeting in 1x03 Brigade.

We have Carmy repeating harmful patterns of behaviour at work that he has picked up from his personal life (for example, from his mother) but also from his professional experience.

The world of fine dining that both Carmy and Sydney came to The Beef from was marked, by their own admission, with "complete and utter psychopaths" who screamed, pushed and yelled at their staff (recall Sydney's disclosure to Carmy at the end of 1x05 Sheridan) or "fucking assholes" (in the case of Chef David Fields), who made their staff "very, probably mentally ill." Sadly, this aspect of The Bear is not fiction. @moodyeucalyptus pointed out in this post that both Carmy and David Fields appear to have elements of their characters based off of real life fine dining wunderkind Chef Charlie Trotter: a Chicago-based chef known to be brilliant but who mistreated his staff so badly that he had two class actions brought against him (one by FOH staff, and another by BOH staff led by James Beard Award winner Beverly Kim).

There are other stories about the grinding nature of the fine dining industry which we'll get into below. We'll also look at a few stories of chefs who are leading a renaissance away from the "toxic, hierarchical shit show" that has historically plagued fine dining and who Joanna Calo and Chris Storer may have front of mind as they take us through Carmy and Sydney's journey together in season 4 (because as tempting as Shapiro's offer is, we know Sydney isn’t leaving Carmy). But first, we need to go further back in time to look at how the fine dining industry itself has created the conditions for a chef like season 3 Carmy to exist in the first place. Lets look at the system, baby (to quote Tina in 1x01).

The Bear's culinary ancestry: Chef David Fields and the Fine Dining Industry

I should say that I did not want to go too far into history with this post. After Carmen, Natalie, and the Berzattos, I was committed to trying to write shorter meta (/snort). But I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about the origins of fine dining, and before that, the rise of Europe as the base of "haute cuisine" (which itself is directly tied to its history of colonialism and...Empire *badumbum* @freedelusionshere has made the point that The Bear writers have given Chef David's restaurant the name Empire purposefully and they're not wrong). All of this informs the current state of fine dining today.

Though France is often credited as the place where restaurants began (in the 1700s), its been established that folks were eating in communal restaurant settings all over the world, including in China about 700-600 years earlier. The origins of western fine dining (the tradition that Carmy and Sydney have trained within) however, are synonymous with French cuisine and the efforts of Georges Escoffier (who Carmy name drops in 1x03 Brigade).

The French Brigade

Escoffier was responsible for developing the French Brigade system of organising kitchen staff which is still used today in many restaurants worldwide, including at The Bear. The French Brigade was based on Escoffier's own military experience in the Franco Prussian War and was set up to identify roles in the kitchen and increase efficiency and consistency so that restaurants could scale their work to serve larger numbers of customers.

The thing with anything based on structures found in the military is that its going to replicate hierarchy (a chain of command is central to the running of military operations). In fact, much of 1x03 Brigade is spent with Sydney resisting what she identifies as the imposition of a "toxic hierarchical shitshow".

Mariya Moore-Russell, the first Black woman in the world to get a Michelin star (who also happens to be from Chicago) talks at length here about the benefits of the French Brigade for systematising commercial kitchens but also how easily it can get corrupted if the wrong people are in the kitchen. She says in those circumstances, the Brigade can quickly perpetuate, racism, sexism, perfectionism and "all of the isms." My fav quote from the video? When Russell talks about the French standardisation of cooking adopted by most kitchens in fine dining industry (at 23:39):

They were like okay, how do we take what Grandma does, what Mama does and make it you know efficient and consistent but also just extremely stressful for everybody involved? (lmao)

Note: Moore-Russell has a series of videos on YouTube about her experiences in fine dining which are very illuminating. She's also such an engaging storyteller. For example, watch "My path through the restaurant industry".

Service à la française to service à la russe

In addition to the French Brigade, another development in the history of western fine dining was the shift in styles of food service from service à la française to service à la russe. Service à la française ('service in the French style') involved serving all the dishes for a meal at once, allowing patrons to serve themselves. Think something akin to buffet style. See below for table layout using service in the French style from 1775:

Source: Wikipedia.

To me, service in the French style looks kind of similar to how my Tamil family lays out our meals (as can be seen in the first picture of this meta, minus the pheasant, moonshine and roasted woodcocks...lol). This style of service also looks a whole lot like "family style" dining which can be described as: "when food is brought to the table on large platters or serving dishes rather than being individually plated. Guests then serve themselves from the dishes which are passed around the table." In fact, service in the French style or family style dining is how many cultures serve and eat their food, both in the home and in restaurant settings (whether they use these terms to describe that layout is another matter).

I also seem to recall a couple of soulmates Jeffreys deciding to open a family-style restaurant in 1x08 Braciole (which @bootlegramdomneess has also pointed out in her post here).

In the 19th century, service in the French style became replaced in European restaurants by service à la russe ('service in the Russian style'). This style of service is what Western fine dining and haute cuisine restaurants utilise to this day. It involves bringing courses to the dining table in sequence, one after the other. Courses are portioned and plated before being brought to the diner by service staff.

In the case of Western fine dining, Escoffier shaped haute cuisine ('high cooking') through the use of his French Brigade system and the implementation of service in the Russian style. Haute cuisine has undergone shifts and changes since the 19th century including with the nouvelle cuisine movement in the 1960s which was marked by a focus on fresh produce, paired-back menus and a focus on invention. Haute cuisine of today has been described as a fusion: employing elements of nouvelle cuisine and more elaborate techniques and processes from Escoffier's system.

To my mind, service à la russe involves a lot more people (definitely more wait staff) to have it deployed effectively. When you have more people, you have more room for error (like all those dropped dishes in season 3). Family style service or service à la française allows people to serve themselves. It encourages sharing. Personally, I prefer the latter. Also can we talk about how small the portion sizes are in haute cuisine? lmao. I get it, its art. You need a gigantic plate for a small piece of hamachi because thats the canvas. Some (read: me, lmao) might also say its big ol' waste to wash a plate that size for food that takes up maybe a 1/5 of its surface area. Can we also talk about the concept of "chargers" (which the Computer rightfully rips into Carm and Sydney for in 3x05 Children) - why do you need a table setting that no one's gonna use? I'm sure there's other aspects to haute cuisine that make no fucking sense but honestly this meta is gigantic enough as it is so I'll stop there lol.

Anyway, notably it is service à la russe and food that would be described as haute cuisine that we see at The Bear. Family style is nowhere to be seen in season 3.

Colonialism, Empire and the rise of Western food cultures

A fact that is often left out of discussions about why the French and other European countries developed such globally renowned food cultures as well as their staggering wealth and status as "first world countries" (particularly in the period between the 1600s to the 19th century) was that at around the same time, these nation states were expanding their own empires by colonising other parts of the world with the express purpose of acquiring ingredients (and other resources) that they did not have access to in Europe. A brief and non-exhaustive list of examples below:

Europe's demand for flavour was so great in the 1600s that the Dutch traded Manhattan to the British in order to secure the Indonesian island of Banda Run which, at the time, was the world's only source of nutmeg. When they first arrived in the Banda Islands, the Dutch killed and enslaved much of the Bandanese population, taking control of the island's local nutmeg plantations. This violence would come to be known locally as The Banda Massacres.

It was the hunt for a direct trade route with India for black pepper that Christopher Columbus used to pitch his voyage to the King and Queen of Spain and which ultimately led him to the Americas. Columbus' arrival precipitated the colonisation of the Americas, which resulted in enslavement, disease and outright genocide, decimating First Nations populations throughout North and South America.

The colonisation of the Americas would also lead to the exporting of various foods that have come to be staples in European cooking. For example, the tomato - the key ingredient in many Italian (and Italian American) dishes - orginated in South and Central America and was brought to Europe via Spanish colonists.

The British set up their infamously brutal East India Company (EIC) to control the Indian subcontinent and the trade of various resources including precious metals, opium, textiles (silks and cotton), spices (such as cinnamon, black pepper, nutmeg, cloves, mace) and other food items (like salt, sugar, coffee and tea). The EIC would later be supplanted by the British Raj in Britain's stranglehold on India and after almost 200 years of imperialism and economic fraud, it has been estimated that the British drained India of nearly $45 trillion. I can't even begin to fathom an amount of money that large but the British could, and that theft powered much of the empire during its height.

The influence of Indian ingredients and cuisine spread throughout the British empire, including back to Britain itself. In fact, through colonisation and empire, Indian influences appear in various global cuisines (including other European cuisines as well as in the Caribbean).

Indeed the British's impact on food globally included its colonisation of Australia and New Zealand. These two colonial outposts essentially became gigantic cattle and sheep runs for the British who facilitated the wholesale theft of land - and in the case of Australia, did so without even bothering to enter into treaties with First Nations people - in order to run livestock that was then exported to feed Britain.

In order to satisfy its sweet tooth, France operated huge sugar plantations on the backs of the labour of enslaved Africans, particularly in Haiti (known at the time as Saint-Domingue). In the late 1700s, Haiti was responsible for exporting 40% of all the sugar consumed in Europe. The human cost of this was high and brutally violent. Eventually in 1803, after many armed revolts, enslaved African-descent people kicked the French out of the country after over a hundred years of heinous exploitation (thereby creating the first Black republic in the world). The French were so economically dependent on the colony for its production of coffee and sugar that when Haiti got its independence, France decided to punish the new republic for the loss of future income on Haitian exports, demanding 150 million francs in gold as compensation. The French sent warships to enforce this cruel debt. All in all, Haiti spent approximately $21 billion paying off France for the freedom that its people had already lost their lives and shed their own blood for. The debt (which involved the fledgling republic taking out exorbitant loans and fundraising amongst its citizens) was not paid off until 1947: 122 years after it was initially enforced. The French even charged Haiti interest.

Were it not for its vicious history of slavery and its century-long extortion of its former colony, I'm pretty sure France wouldn't have had the quantities of a certain key ingredient necessary to develop its worldwide reputation for pastries and desserts. I mean, you try making a crème brûlée, an eclair, a tarte tatin, a sweet galette, a mille-feuille, a madeleine, a crepe...without sugar.

This history deeply informs fine dining today. For centuries, Europe underdeveloped much of the world (borrowing Walter Rodney's turn of phrase) through colonialism and imperialist extraction. It then used those spoils and excess wealth to, among other things, develop its own food cultures and then self-proclaim itself as the cutting edge of the culinary world. To be clear, you can only faff about in a kitchen and create fancy sugar palaces and 10-course meals if you have the means and resources to do so. Haute cuisine is a product of wealth and resources, accumulated over time. Europe's colonial history also dictates which cuisines are recognised via awards like the Michelin star system. Hell, it dictates why you have the French (Michelin is a French tire company) dictating what constitutes "good" food in the first place. If you want to read more about this topic, this essay on Medium provides a good overview of the sad, racist state of affairs over at the Michelin Guide.

Where Europeans colonised and settled, this same lens was applied. This is why you have the undervaluing of Indigenous cuisine and ingredients in Australia, a situation which has only recently begun to shift. The colonisation of Australia actively involved the lying about Aboriginal foodways in Britain's attempt to falsely claim that Aboriginal peoples were nomadic hunter gatherers who did not use their land. Its why the history of how enslaved Africans brought their food cultures with them through the Door of No Return and transformed American cuisine, is not more widely known. Its why so few chefs of colour have been recognised for Michelin stars globally.

Empire and The Bear

Season 3 of The Bear pays clear homage to the impact of European empire on the world of fine dining in a few ways. The most obvious is the fact that Chef David's restaurant is literally called "Empire" lol. Another example and one of the most visually striking to me occurs in 3x01 Tomorrow. First, recall Chef David Fields' outright theft of Carmy's dish (I think we've established that you can't get more empire than the theft of food, yes?). Can we talk about how not only did Fields steal Carmy's dish but also, turned it into the most beige meal we've seen on The Bear to date, bar that single sprig of dill fighting for its life?

Carmy's penultimate plate (the final version being The Best Meal That Sydney Ever Had™):

Chef David Fields' dick measuring exercise version:

Carm was not a fan:

Can we talk about how the original plate featured the colours of the Italian flag (green, white and red) - emblematic of Carmy's cultural heritage and what is certainly one of the single biggest influences in his culinary journey (the dish also features fish, just like the main course in La Vigilia, the Feast of the Seven Fishes) - but after Fields was done with it, that shit was practically three shades of mayonnaise?

Can we talk about how Carmy's version of the dish almost certainly had a varied and dynamic flavour profile while Fields' looks just how I imagine it tasted like: whatever flavour meh is. The dish literally has no acid from what I can see (ingredients: paupiette of hamachi, fennel soubise, potato chip and dill). And I *know* a balanced dish has salt, fat, acid and heat (cos Chef Samin Nusrat told me).

Can we also talk about how Fields hates the most commonly traded of spices? The one that Columbus was looking for when he landed at what is now the Bahamas. The one that was an integral part of the East India Company's business plan rort to fuck India and South East Asia more generally?

Carmen: He hates black pepper for some reason I'll never understand. (from 3x10 Forever)

White folks in Europe were so hungry for spices to liven up their food that they invaded large swathes of the rest of the world to get the stuff. And yet, here we have Chef Fields, disliking Europe's gateway spice: the one that the Romans (Carmy's ancestors) had been trading with the East for centuries prior to Europe’s imperial frenzy, and which now makes up 20% of the world's spice trade.

Is the man so dedicated to meh that he couldn’t even bring himself to embrace pepper? Used to be one of the best chefs in the world, is right Chef Luca.

On top of dubious taste (I'm not a food critic but no one can tell me that hamachi and fennel soubise dish tasted anything other than fucked lmao. idc idc), Chef Fields is also one of the clear antagonists in The Bear. Along with Donna Berzatto, he is one of Carmy's two primary abusers. His impact on Carmy was never as clear on the show as it was in season 3. Lets take a closer look at that impact below:

Culinary ancestry and intergenerational trauma

Both Donna and David are ancestors of a kind to Carmy. Donna is clearly a biological ancestor in that she's Carmy's birth mother. I've argued here that David Fields is a culinary ancestor to Carmy. For ease of reference, I'll include my explanation of what I mean when I say "culinary ancestry", from that earlier meta, here:

Most folks understand ancestry to refer to our family or genetic lineage. When I was in university, I learned about intellectual ancestors or genealogy: where one can trace your intellectual lineage - the thinkers and creators that have shaped your understanding of the world and/or your chosen profession. I think its useful to take this concept and apply it to The Bear to help understand what the show is saying about legacy. I wouldn't limit the concept to "intellectual" ancestry though. It might be more helpful to talk about culinary ancestors in this context because the process of creating food - crafting dishes - isn't solely an intellectual exercise. It engages our intellect yes, but also each of our senses, our memories (recall that chocolate banana from 2x10 The Bear), and the need to nurture and be nurtured. Culinary Ancestors Carmy's culinary ancestors are varied given his work history. We know he's cooked under some of the best chefs in the culinary world of The Bear, including: Daniel Boulud (of Daniel), René Redzepi (of NOMA), Thomas Keller (of The French Laundry), David Field (a sociopathic Joel McHale, of Eleven Madison Park Empire), and Andrea Terry (a sublime Olivia Colman, of Ever). I'd also include here Mikey, Donna and Natalie Berzatto. I'd include cousins Richie Jeremovich and Michelle Berzatto as well. These are the home and line cooks Carm grew up with, watched in his mother's kitchen and at The Beef. He took his lessons - the good and the bad, learnt voluntarily and involuntarily - from all of these people, incorporated them into his working self and transmuted them into his food.

NOTE: In "Ancestors and The Bear" and in other meta I've written, I've incorrectly noted that Chef David Fields was the EC at Eleven Madison Park (instead of Empire). This was due to the fact that up until 3x10 Forever, we are not told the name of the restaurant that Fields and Carmy worked at together. In the draft script for the pilot, the restaurant is identified as EMP (Eleven Madison Park) by Sugar (see p 23 of that script), however this appears to have changed to "Empire" during the course of the show's development.

Through the lens of culinary ancestry, there is a clear connection between Carmy's wasteful R&D and menu choices in season 3 with the "lessons" he received under the tutelage of Chef David at Empire. For example, and as discussed above, the refusal to serve any dish that isn't viewed as "perfect" led to extreme amounts of waste at both The Bear and at Empire.

Additionally, Chef David focused on "subtraction" (recall his writing "SUBTRACT" on green tape and sticking it to the expo of Empire in 3x01 Tomorrow) and never repeating ingredients in the dishes that came out of Empire. Instinctually, these two strategies appear to me to be techniques to create needless scarcity. They're attempts at repression in and of themselves. Carmy adopts these philosophies and tries to implement them at The Bear as well. They manifest in his unilaterally overhauling the original menu at The Bear (without Syd's input) as well as his insistence that the menu change every day.

Minimalistic subtraction of elements was also a characteristic of Escoffier's approach to cooking which would be taken even further with the nouvelle cuisine movement in France. That movement focused on minimalistic dishes with fewer seasonings and sauces. Chef David Fields is clearly rooted in the French school of fine dining in this approach.

Subtraction also shows up in the show in a more dire way: in the cutting off of relationships and the whittling away of self.

I recently come across a promo still for The Bear. It features Carmy as the CDC of Empire, plating a dish. I've seen the image before but I never noticed the writing on the wall next to Carmy before. It reads:

"Its only after we've lost everything we're free to do anything"

This quote also appears in the 1999 David Fincher film, Fight Club (which itself is based on the book by the same name by Chuck Palahniuk):

Left: Carmen Berzatto, CDC at Empire in The Bear; right: Tyler Durden, general nihilistic fuckwit in Fight Club, also preaching the gospel of David [Fields].

This ethos, written on the wall and haunting the kitchen at Empire is emblematic of how Chef David operates. It reads like a fucked Psalm, giving a poetic shimmer to Field's abuse. Chef David tears down his staff, verbally degrading them to the point that he has the gall to whisper "you should be dead" to them. (OK. Can we...for a minute...imagine being a manager and that being your management style? Telling your best performing staff that they should be dead? Excuse me, mon cheri? A literal devil).

Chef David literally strips his staff of their dignity and their connections to the outside world. He makes them lose their sense of self and claims its all to make them better chefs. He tells Carmen in 3x10 Forever:

Chef David: So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent.

The parallels between Carmy's experience at Empire - and even in the Berzatto household - and the critique of performative violent masculinity that Fight Club was trying to get across are worth pointing out. In Fight Club, white men beat each other up to try and assert control over a perceived loss of power. At Empire, Chef Fields consistently berates and degrades Carmy, clearly threatened by his CDC's talent. Similarly we have Richie complaining about having to take orders from "toddler" Carmy, saying "I was a baby too once, Syd. Nobody gave a fuck" in 1x02 (which could have been the origin story of any one of the men who joined Brad Pitt/Edward Norton to carry out "Project Mayhem" lmao. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the dudes on Reddit fawning over Richie circa seasons 1-2 also watch Fight Club as if it was some sort of aspirational manifesto and not the satire that Fincher intended it to be).

Chef Fields is meant to be representative of a toxicity found in the restaurant industry globally. There have been numerous reports of the physical and psychological violence meted out against kitchen staff by those higher up in the brigade.

Additionally the structure of the French Brigade system is such that those at the bottom - stages - are often expected to work for free. While unpaid internships are common in various lines of work, those industries start to run into trouble when large amounts of their products and services depend on unpaid labour. In fact, darling of The Bear, René Redzepi of Noma faced criticism of his restaurant's unpaid internship program. The internship program was rife with stories of ridiculous working conditions. Redzepi finally began paying interns in 2022 but then announced that Noma would shut down regular service at the end of 2024 due to being unable to afford its staff (at one point, unpaid stages made up almost half of Noma's staff).

The fact that entry into the world of fine dining means people need to work for free as a stage automatically eliminates this as an option for folks who cannot afford to volunteer in order to gain work experience. This would disproportionately impact on certain communities, particularly communities of colour whose members may not have access to sufficient wealth that would allow them to work for free. This is clearly illustrated in The Bear where we see that Carmy has the safety nets and access in place that allow him to stage at various fine dining institutions and gain much sought after experience (e.g. his family's ownership of The Beef and his ability to work there, his cousin Michelle's restaurants in NYC and his access to those spaces). Sydney, Tina, Marcus and even Richie have very different entries into the world of restaurants and fine dining.

The issue of sexual abuse and harassment in the restaurant industry is also very subtly broached in The Bear (though it is more heavily implied in the draft script for 1x01), particularly in 1x07 The Review with Richie accusing Sydney of giving a food critic head in order to get a positive review for her risotto (season 1 Richie was genuinely the worst). But the issue is huge, with more sexual harassment claims filed in the US in the restaurant industry than any other field of work.

Even scrubbing floors by hand and cleaning with a toothbrush, while ensuring sparkling kitchens, have also historically been used as a means of punishment, particularly in institutional settings. During Australia's Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse, there were numerous reports of children in care homes being forced to scrub floors with toothbrushes as a means of physical punishment and control. (CW: the above link discusses accounts of institutional child sexual abuse).

Given the above, its clear to see that the industry - the system - facilitates a whole lot of shit that its workers are subjected to. So when Chef Adam Shapiro catches Sydney as she leaves the train station in 2x04 Violet and asks her how she's doing, her response is telling:

Sydney: It's been a long month [at The Bear].

Chef Adam: Ah. That bad?

Sydney: No, just-- Restaurants.

Chef Adam: Yeah. Right? Why do we do this to ourselves?

Sydney: 'Cause we're crazy.

Chef Adam: Yeah. What was this month's crazy?

Sydney: Um. The kind that's inherited.

Chef Adam: *Nods emphatically* Understood.

This Financial Times article on the dark side of restaurant culture in Copenhagen, sums things up perfectly:

“We always had this joke, an explanation for why things are so horrible: shit falls down,” [Chef Levi] Luna told [the author Imogen West-Knights], with a cold laugh. In the kitchen, the head chef gets mad at the sous-chef, who gets mad at the person below him, a chef-de-partie, who then takes it out on a stagiaire. Then one day, the sous-chef is the head chef, and he has learnt how a head chef behaves: badly. It should give a sense of the strength of feeling I encountered about how damaging this system is that several people independently described it as being like children who are abused going on to commit abuse as adults. This is the dark flipside of the restaurant-as-family metaphor.

Challenging the status quo @ The Bear

By the end of season 3, Carmy appears to recognise that subtraction in his life is not going to bring him happiness. In fact, in 1x08 Braciole, he identified subtraction - specifically, the cutting out of people from his life - as the reason his life got quiet as he grew more isolated. In 3x10 Forever, when he finally confronts Chef David, Carmy laments the psychic and physical impact of Fields' abuse as well as the isolation it engendered. Fields, psychopath that he is, remained unfazed:

Carmen: You gave me ulcers, and panic attacks, and-and nightmares. You--You know that, right? Do you-- Do you understand that?

Chef David: Yeah, I gave you confidence, and leadership, and ability. It fucking worked.

Carmen: My life stopped.

Chef David: That's the point, right?

Additionally, its worth pointing out that despite all the focus on precision, minimalism and (quite frankly) rage being put into the impeccably plated dishes of The Bear, it's the messy, juicy, multi-ingredient filled Italian beef sandwiches that remain the site's best seller. Indeed, in 3x05 Children, Nat tells Carmy that the sandwich window is the only thing at The Bear making any money. So much for subtraction.

We also see Carmy resisting a total acquiescence to Chef David's approach to running a kitchen early on in season 3. His non-negotiables read in the hindsight of the entirety of the series like his attempt at integrating the lessons he’s learned from various kitchens. It’s why the list says “no repeat ingredients” AND “vibrant collaboration”. We know that vibrant collaboration had to come from someone else’s kitchen cos Fields certainly wasn’t collaborating with anyone. That asshole was out there dictating like a fascist.

Additionally, while Carmy has realised the dangers of the fine dining industry by the end of season 3 (and not for the first time - recall in 2x01 The Beef when he called the Michelin star system "a trap"), and while Sydney grapples with her role as an "accomplice" to Carmy's season 3 bullshit, their protégés Tina and Marcus continue to keep the flame of genuine care, collaboration and inspiration alive. This is most clearly seen during the conversation Tina and Marcus have in 3x09 Apologies where they discuss Marcus' mother and his memories of her as well as brainstorm ideas for Tina's cauliflower, brussel sprouts and horseradish dish (please for the love of gad, give us more Tina, Marcus and Ebra next season).

Challenging the status quo in the real world

There are also actual chefs in the real world who appear to be doing something different with their work: embracing their own food cultures that have historically been locked out of the world of fine dining and also trying to run their kitchens in more egalitarian ways.

Above clockwise from top left: Chefs Tim Flores and Genie Kwon of Kasama, Chef Adejoké Bakare of Chishuru, Chef Asma Khan of Darjeeling Express and Chef Mariya Moore-Russell formerly of Kumiko and Kikkō.

The first, most obvious example of this for The Bear fans is Kasama, (shout out to @currymanganese and @thoughtfulchaos773 for introducing me to the above linked, short doco) the Filipino American restaurant founded and run by Chefs Tim Flores and Genie Kwon (who also happen to be married) in Chicago. Kasama is also where Carmy and Syd were meant to have their palate cleansing "reset" in 2x03 Sundae and where Sydney may have also been hit on by fellow Coach K fan, Kasama bae (shout out to @sydcarmyfan for verbalising what I squee-ed about on first watch of this episode lmao).

Both Flores and Kwon come from fine dining backgrounds but appear to challenge some of that industry's basic tenets, including the messianic role of the EC as top of Escoffier's brigade food chain. Flores openly states that his cooking is an ode to his Filipino mother who regularly taste tests his food. In the Nick Cavalier doco linked above, Flores states "if [his mother Lolly Flores] eats [the food] and there's no reference to her dish at all, I'm not doing the right thing." Flores and Kwon also operate Kasama using a hybrid model (that I think would send regimental Escoffier into a tailspin) where they offer fast and casual service featuring Kwon's baked goods during the day and offer a Filipino tasting menu led by Flores for dinner service only. Kasama was awarded a Michelin star in 2023, the first Filipino restaurant in the world to achieve that title. It also took home a James Beard Award that same year.

Note: if you haven't already, have a read of this interview of Tim Flores and Genie Kwon conducted by the Michelin Guide. ISTG Storer and Calo have read this and lifted whole paragraphs for The Bear's script. An excerpt that stood out to me, in particular:

The two first met at Bib Gourmand restaurant GT Fish & Oyster, also in Chicago. "He was leaving as I was starting. So we didn't overlap for very long. But I actually went to eat at the restaurant that he was working at afterwards, and I had one of the best experiences of my life at a tasting menu. And after that we started talking and hanging out, and eventually started dating," recalls Kwon about how she and Flores first met.

Sounds a lot like a couple of Jeffs we know, yes?

Also check out Chef Adejoké Bakare, who in 2024, became only the second Black woman to get a Michelin star in the world (the first being Chicagoan Mariya Moore-Russell who announced in 2020 that she was taking a break from her career for her mental and physical wellbeing and who also...is married to a chef lol). Bakare's restaurant, Chishuru in London, specialises in West African cuisine rooted in Bakare's Yoruba, Igbo and Hausa cultures. Bakare, like Genie Kwon, has a background in biological sciences. She also began her career as a home cook, then ran a fish and chip cart while studying at university in Nigeria. Once she moved to the UK, she ran a supper club and later won the opportunity to run a short term pop up restaurant. During the ceremony where she got her Michelin star, Bakare noted "[i]t did feel rather odd at last night's ceremony that 90% of the room was white middle-aged men. But the passion I see among young women in the industry is such that I'm confident things will change."

Take also Chef Asma Khan, who got her start in the industry as a home cook and then began running supper clubs out of her house in the UK. She then opened up the Darjeeling Express with a group of South Asian women she had met when they were all fairly recent arrivals in the UK, none of whom had formal culinary training. To this day, her kitchen remains fully staffed and run by women.

In this TEDx Talk about her work, Khan says:

"I wanted to cook but I actually wanted to feed people. This gave me the greatest pleasure. I felt at my most powerful when I was able to serve someone something I had cooked. In some ways it was my way of showing affection and love, and being able to give them something that took them home."

Sounds familiar yes? Like a couple of Jeffreys in season 1 of a certain show?

About the systemic sexism in the industry, Khan says:

"But at that time, in England, anywhere in the West, everywhere you looked it was male chefs you saw that was on television [...] in the media. It was always about men who were cooking kitchens. The greatest irony of it all is that [...] in every South Asian home you go to, you will invariably find a woman [cooking] but in every South Asian restaurant you go to, not just in India but in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, almost everywhere in the world, you will usually find a man cooking in the kitchen. And it was a desire for me that I wanted to cook but there was no road or route in front of me."

Khan elaborates further on the skewed and gendered manner in which elite fine dining operates, in this article:

“There is no public hanging [in her restaurant]. Male chefs have made cooking into a combat sport. I think it’s a reaction to the idea that cooking is feminine: I’m not the dinner lady! I’m not your grandmother! Sorry, but if you’re constantly screaming at staff it means you’ve trained them badly.”

Khan is describing the hyper-competitive nature of fine dining (and her suspicion that in a highly gendered industry that is populated by majority men, that there is a need to perform a hypermasculinity in order to put distance between themselves and the historically feminine-gendered roots of the act of cooking) and how Khan wanted no part of it, for herself, her staff or her patrons. In this Guardian article, Khan points her attention directly at the toxic work cultures of many fine dining institutions:

Khan sees herself as a vital heckler on the sidelines of the industry, rather than part of its elite club of star chefs. She is especially scathing of a macho restaurant culture that has allowed workplace bullying and abuse to become normalised – and of those who enable it.

“My deep concern during the pandemic is seeing very prominent people with considerable wealth remove the entire workforce without a safety net.” A surge of restaurant and pub workers were reported to be sleeping rough in central London in April, a fact Khan can’t shake. “It is so shameful, my heart bleeds for the industry, it is immoral. I don’t want restaurants to be ranked by Michelin stars for the fluff and edible herbs they put on a plate. I want to know how they treat their people, they should be ranked on that. Where there is bullying and racism, where there is sexual harassment, where staff don’t feel safe, people should boycott those restaurants. I don’t want to see them prosper.”

Honestly, after reading some of the horror stories about work place practices in the restaurant industry, I'm with Khan. I'm also with Flores, Kwon, Bakare and Moore-Russell. I reckon Storer and Calo are also with these folks too and that we're going to see a shift in season 4 of The Bear that reflects the larger industrial change in the world of fine dining that chefs like these are heralding.

The death of fine dining

Above: Carmy's phone in 3x05 Children

Like @freedelusionshere says here, I don't think its a suprise that season 3 ended with Ever's funeral. The fine dining of Empire and even Ever is dead. How can it not be given the way its been largely running to date, as discussed above? How can it not be when we are living in a time of severe food insecurity precipitated by runaway consumerism and the twin existential threats of global climate and extinction crises. How can anyone in good conscience justify charging exorbitant amounts of money on a plate that is not going to fill patron's bellies while there are communities worldwide who do not have enough food to feed their children? When some communities, even in so-called "first world" countries like America and Australia cannot access clean drinking water?

Truly, the argument for fine dining posited by Will Guidara in 3x10 Forever made me (and I'm sure many others) actually cringe.

There's nobility in this. [...] We can give them the grace, if only for a few hours, to forget about their most difficult moments. Like, we can make the world a nicer place. All of us in this room. We have this opportunity, perhaps even a responsibility, to create our own little magical worlds in a world that is increasingly in need of a little more magic.

There *is* nobility in nurturing people, in feeding them. But in a time of the multiple and rolling, global existential crises, where particular communities are being targeted not just for marginalisation but whole scale eradication, this is not a time for more "magic"; particularly when those "little magical worlds" are reserved for the select few who can afford them. We don't need more holes to bury our heads in. We need real spaces of care that are accessible, kind (read: not nice, but kind. there is a big difference) and nurturing. And those spaces need to be those things not just for the patrons who visit them but also for the staff who work there.

There is also literally no time for escapism, at least not of the kind that late stage capitalism promotes and as described by Guidara in 3x10. We are living at a time where food systems are said to make up one third of all greenhouse gas emissions, pushing the climate crisis further to the point of no return. What's the point of making magic worlds to escape an actual world on the brink? And while your magic-making contributes to the brink getting closer? Its like putting lipstick on a pig.

Indeed some have posited that it was the British Empire's remaking of the world to feed Britain (which we've looked at briefly above) that has been the single biggest contributor to the current environmental crises facing our planet. The Bear acknowledges the issue as well. Recall 2x04 Violet when Tina visits Jerry at the farmers' market and his explanation for why he has so little produce to sell:

Jerry: There's fewer and fewer moths to grow vegetables now, and 'cause of that, there's fewer and fewer farms. Used to be you could come down here, buy everything you needed for a full menu. All in one spot. Whatever grows together, goes together.

The reason there are fewer months to grow vegetables is because of climate change which has impacted on everything to season length, groundwater and rainfall levels (as the two main sources for global farming irrigation) and increased periods of drought and heatwave.

So whats next for The Bear?

Season 3 put us through the ringer with Carmy replicating toxic practices in his restaurant that are rife in the industry at large. Yes, Carmy also has mental health issues and is a survivor of multiple sources of trauma. We know this. I've talked about this at length here and here. But he's also a guy who's running his own business with folks who are dependent on their place of work for their livelihoods. As such, he, Nat and Uncle Jimmy (as co-owners of The Bear) have responsibilities to their staff.

As EC at The Bear who is directly responsible for managing BOH, Carmy has a choice to make about whether he "blows his trauma through" (shout out to Dr Resmaa Menakem and his book My Grandmother's Hands) the bodies of those closest to him, including the crew at The Bear. Just as parents have to work on themselves so that they don't replicate harmful patterns of behaviour in raising their children, so too do we all in our daily relationships, including where many of us adults spend most of our waking lives: at work.

Like Richie observed, Carmy is not integrated in season 3 but neither is the industry in which he's working. A menu that constantly changes, wasteful food practices, a food production and agricultural industry that contributes to a third of global greenhouse gas emissions leading to increased global warming. These things are absolutely not integrated. In many ways, Carmy's mental state in season 3 - anxious, agitated, exhausted, is a reflection of the times. Given all of the above, Carmy's "I'm so fucking sick of this" in 3x09 Apologies hits me harder in the chest. Yes Carmy, you should be. Now go do something about it.

Having looked at the career trajectories of a few talented, conscientious chefs in the course of writing this meta, I think its pretty clear that the old way of running restaurants a la Chef David Fields is over. As we sit at the precipice of climate disaster, watching multiple genocides unfolding at once, during a time of massive food insecurity, who the hell has time to be suffering in the way Chef David made his employees feel in the course of making food that is meant to nourish people? What fucking cognitive dissonance is required to continue on THAT kind of a path?

Come season 4, I reckon we are going to see a massive shift in the trajectory of The Bear. This will be precipitated by multiple things (like the review Carmy got at the end of 3x10 and whatever the fuck Uncle Jimmy is up to with that box and those golf clubs lol) but most significantly, by a realisation on Carmy's part that his version of Michelin mode IS NOT IT.

I reckon Carmy and Sydney are going to continue to work together but they'll go back to the original plan they made with one another in 1x08 Braciole. They're going to go back to family style. They're going to treat their staff better (after Carmy apologises lol). They're going to shift from wasteful, haute cuisine to sustainable food practices that support producers and the planet more broadly. They're going to leave Chef David Fields' scare tactic of subtraction behind and lean into using more pepper.

Above: Sydney's notebook as she workshops a recipe at home in 1x08 Braciole.

Tagging: @moodyeucalyptus @currymanganese @hwere @freedelusionshere @thoughtfulchaos773 @ambeauty @brokenwinebox @devisrina @espumado @fresaton @kdbleu @vacationship @birdiebats @bootlegramdomneess @mitocamdria @tvfantic87 @angelica4equity @anxietycroissant @turbulenthandholding @yannaryartside @afrofairysblog @ciaomarie

cos you may be interested but as always, I'd love to chat to whoever wants to about this stuff!

[specialagentlokitty]

Reid x Deaf!Teen!reader - translation

reid x teen/child!reader who is deaf but no one realises till he starts signing to her - Anon💜

A/N: sign language will be in bold

Sitting in the interrogation room, you frowned a little as you stared at the two older men in front of you, they were talking but you had no clue what they were saying.

Looking around the room, you found a clock and decided that if you stared at it long enough maybe they would let you go.

“Can you give us anything? Did you see anything?” Rossi asked.

You didn’t reply and he turned to Hotch who sighed and shook his head, gesturing for him to leave and they did.

They stood on the other side of the glass watching you.

“Are they just ignoring us?” Derek asked.

“I assume so, but they’re the only one what was in the area. Surely they must’ve heard something, we can’t even get a name out of them.”

“Partners with the unsub?” Emily asked.

“I don’t think so, the profile points to the unsub working alone. Unable to work with a partner.” JJ replied.

“Maybe they’re protecting the unsub then.” Hotch said.

They all looked at you, they had no clue what to do.

They couldn’t find any ID on you, no address or anything, you didn’t have a phone with you, you weren’t coming up on their system and you didn’t match any missing persons report.

So if you did have a family they didn’t notice that you were missing.

“Hey Reid, come here.” Derek called.

Reid looked over from where he was sat at the table doing some research.

Getting up, he walked over.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“What’s with the kid? You’re the only one who hasn’t talk to them maybe they’ll talk to you.”

“We’ve all tried, we’re not getting anywhere.” JJ sighed.

Reid turned to look at you through the glass, you were looking at the clock on the wall.

“We haven’t gotten any response, they won’t even look at us most of the time unless we touch the table.” Hotch explained.

Reid watched you, raising a finger but stopped himself.

Instead, he walked into the room, noticing how you didn’t look at him as he quietly closed the door.

What did make you turn was when he tapped once against the table and you looked at him.

“Hi, I’m Dr Spencer Reid, can I sit?” He asked.

You blinked, staring at him blankly.

He smiled a little and raised his hands.

Can I sit?

You quickly nodded and waited for him to sit down before raising your hands.

You can sign?

He nodded.

Yes. I learned in high school, my team think you’ve been ignoring them. Are you mute or deaf?

Deaf. Since birth. My parents only sign so I never learned to lip read.

He smiled his head and nodded in understanding.

Can you tell me your name?

(Y/N) (L/N). What’s yours?

Spencer Reid, can I have someone come in to ask you questions? I’ll be right here to translate.

You nodded and he left, you sat patiently waiting for him to come back.

It was one of the same men from not long ago and he smiled at you.

This is Hotch, he’s going to ask you questions and I’ll translate for you.

Go ahead.

You were asked all sorts of questions, did you see anything, was there anything unusual, why were you out so late.

They were trying to get as much information they could to find anything that could help and when you saw Hotch ask something and Reid stop translating giving him a deadpan look at Hotch smiled sheepishly you smiled.

You tapped the table getting their attention.

He asked if I heard anything, didn’t he?

Yeah. Sorry.

You laughed a little, and shook your head.

I heard a massive mole man wondering about.

Reid laughed at this and told Hotch what you said and he laughed a little bit as well, smiling at you.

Do you have any family we can call?

You shook your head a little.

No. They passed. You can just drop me off where you found me.

Reid frowned and turned to Hotch.

You watched them have a conversation that seemed to last a few minutes and finally Reid turned his attention back to you.

You can stay at the station with us for now, just to be safe. Is that okay?

You shrugged a little.

Yeah beats my crap motel room.

Reid smiled and nodded, gesturing for you to follow him and you did.

He showed you where you would be able to sleep, and got you some food and something to drink and he sat talking with you most of the night.

When you did fall asleep, Reid covered you up with his sweater and went back to helping with the case.

He knew they’d have to cal CPS eventually, when the unsub was caught and you were safe, but he felt protective over you. He felt he had to keep you safe

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Jay Halstead: By The Four 

Just finished rewatching 5x5 and I had to write this. Pure indulgence. Short and sweet. 

You opened the apartment door and instantly knew that something was different. You could usually hear the muted sound of the game and Jay cheering or frustration depending on how his team was doing. You tilted your head as you heard a familiar song from a Disney movie. You could also hear the sliding of sheets.  

You weren’t sure what to expect when you rounded the corner, but it certainly wasn’t the site in front of you. Jay was in his normal position on the couch sipping a beer. Encanto was on the TV instead of the hockey game. A little girl, maybe five, half asleep with her head on his lap. His free hand was carding through her thick dark hair like he often did for you. The blow-up mattress was on the floor in front of the couch with two other olive-skinned children. One boy and one girl no older than eight or nine. They were cocooned in soft blankets. A final Asian boy was sitting on the floor slightly separated from the group holding a pillow to his chest.  

You paused in the doorway, “Hey baby,” Three sets of little eyes and your boyfriends turn to you. Jay had a guilty look. You raised an eyebrow at him before heading to the kitchen to drop off your stuff. He slowly started to untangle the girl from his lap to follow you. You were pouring yourself a glass of wine when he entered the kitchen. You were a DFS worker and had been called out on an emergency keeping you out late. You met his gaze, “Why are four children sleeping in our living room?” 

“It was a bad case, we just freed them from a child trafficking ring. They didn’t have a good placement- they were planning on sending them to a lockdown group home for the night. I couldn’t let them do it.” 

You smile at Jay. He had such a big warm heart. You leaned and stole a soft peck from his lips. “Seems like I’m not the only one who can’t help but bring home strays.” You rub your noses against him in a few Eskimo kisses. 

You drink your glass of wine as Jay explains to you how parents were using online sites to “rehome” their adopted children. You had nodded along with him. You were aware of the barbaric process. Hearing about how these children had been used, makes you sick to your stomach. “How am I supposed to trust that these kids are going to be taken care of? After all this? Put them back in the system that allowed them to be used like that?” Jay shakes his head in disgust. You rub a calming hand up and down his back, pressing a comforting kiss to his jaw.  

“Bunk beds in the spare room?” His gaze shoots back to yours assessing your seriousness. 

“Don’t joke. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it.” His voice is half sarcastic, but you can hear the honest undertone. "They would fit."  

“You would make an amazing dad.” You lean more against him, and he wraps his arm around you. “Doing it four at a time might be a bit overwhelming, but not completely undoable.”

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

Who Wants To Talk About Japanese Orthography In Manga???

Me, it's me, I do, and I have been chomping at the bit to get the chance to.

Orthography refers to the conventions of written language to represent sounds. That may bring to mind the idea of rigid grammar rules or spelling standardization, but in a linguistic sense, orthography simply describes observable trends across language use. This isn't about authority--I am not going to talk about what schools teach or say people should write one way or another. This is about examining how real people use written language creatively to convey different things in popular media.

This is a huge topic, so I'm only going to use examples from MHA to highlight Horikoshi's style.

First, let's get a run-down of the main parts of written Japanese and how they tend to be used.

We've got kanji and kana; kanji are logograms, while kana are syllabaries. Kana refers to both hiragana and katakana collectively, but we will delineate the two from here on.

The Wikipedia page for kanji, describing this more succinctly than I'm about to.

For clarity, I'm gonna color-code each one.

Let's take a quick look at all three in action.

Chapter 65

By virtue of being the syllabary that grammar particles are written in, hiragana can get away with a lot that kanji and katakana can't.

You can write simple sentences in hiragana alone, like so:

The sentence is perfectly comprehensible like this, but it reads as casual or perhaps a bit immature, like the person is either leaving out kanji for speed or simplicity (like online) or they aren't confident using kanji. Although, the word hito (person) is extremely common and its kanji is simple, so this would probably look more natural:

But there are also kanji for the word kawaii, so you could also write it this way:

On the other hand, writing the whole thing in katakana looks weird as fuck:

bECAuSE iT kINDA reADS LIKE THis, or maybe L I K E T H I S

It seems almost alien, overemphasizing the phonetic sound of the words, implying there's something notable or unusual about them.

But what if you write it like this?

Both ways use katakana to put flavor on a specific word. The first puts it on person, which could be used in a situation where someone hasn't been named yet, but the speaker tonally emphasizes your knowledge of them--like "oh, you know who."

The second emphasizes cute, which could read as sexually suggestive, teasing/joking, or even a threatening tone, depending on the context. "Real cute, ain't they?"

Basically, the connecting grammar bits need to be in hiragana, but nouns, verbs, and adjectives can typically be written in any of the three systems. That introduces choice into the matter, and these choices may have some cultural connotations.

This is a subtlety in written Japanese that manga loves to take advantage of. Orthography contributes a lot to characterization and tone, so individual creators develop little quirks as part of their own writing style.

Now let's finally take a gander at some of Horikoshi's!

Kanji instead of hiragana for semantic emphasis

Chapter 48

Best Jeanist could have used only hiragana for the word "good" (いい, ii), which is a very common way to write it. But he's not just commenting that they are nice kids, he's talking about them as "goodie two-shoes" and even puts brackets around the idea. The kanji emphasizes the cultural idea of a Good Child™, a well-behaved, morally upright, obedient young person.

Kanji instead of hiragana denoting a serious or severe tone

Chapter 36

Katsuki's "you" pronoun omae being written with kanji comes across as markedly serious, especially compared to how his dialogue is normally written. This is actually the only time Katsuki says omae and it is written with kanji--all the rest are in hiragana, which tends to read as more casual.

Hiragana instead of kanji denoting a gentle tone or youthful/childlike language

Chapters 129 and 183

Katsuki and his omae show us how kanji use can be seen as more mature and serious; Eri's dialogue does the opposite of this by using hiragana when it could use kanji, emphasizing her youth and innocence.

Katakana instead of hiragana or kanji for emphasis or slang

Chapters 209, 207, and 2

As I detailed above, one of katakana's most common uses is similar to italics or all-caps.

But you also tend to see slang written with it, and depending on the slang, the word being in katakana can immediately clarify it from other, perhaps more standard meanings. In Jirou's case, her personal pronoun uchi can mean a couple other things, so it being written in katakana clarifies her usage. It could arguably also imply she is taking a bit of an argumentative tone--Katsuki's slang is typically written in katakana for both of these reasons!

Katakana denoting regional dialect/accent, nonstandard pronunciation/muddled speech, or confused articulation

Chapters 102, 208, 394, and 2

Ochako gets flustered and defaults to her regional Kansai dialect. Instead of "chigau wa" (Tokyo dialect), she says "chau wa" repeatedly.

Katsuki and Toga both drop the w- sound from a word. Katsuki says "ore a" instead of "ore wa," while Toga says the word "kawaiku" as "ka'aiku" and "kawaii" as "ka'aii." Notice how the katakana which represents the vocal omission/hiccup is actually smaller than the others? That's also a little stylistic detail for communicating this kind of nonstandard speech.

Izuku repeats All Might's words, chikara wo, in a confused daze because he isn't following All Might's point. By removing the kanji especially, this kind of katakana emphasizes him sounding the words out without recognizing the underlying meaning.

Basically, Japanese has some excellent ~vibes-based~ orthography because of how the language is structured!

Of course, you find this kind of thing in English as well--especially in the age of the internet, where people note that "how dare u" reads as tonally distinct from "how dare you." As you develop language fluency, you tend to pick up these things subconsciously more than anything, but it's one of my favorite things to analyze and compare.

These are just a few examples and my own interpretations of them. I'm sure there are many more uses and flavor-nuance I'm not picking up on. Since any given choice can be read a few different ways, context is very important. My examples aren't definitive proof of anything, but it can be fun to keep these kinds of details in mind while reading.

Shueisha and Shonen Jump surely have in-house standards for text, and mangaka must operate within that range. That said, I have indeed seen every one of these examples in other manga as well.

And on the independent side of things, doujinshi and online manga are basically the wild frickin' west--I have seen tons of totally crazy, highly creative ways to take advantage of the unique flexibility found in Japanese, but that's a post for another day.

I will probably write more about this kind of thing in the future when I can pinpoint some more observations, but I hope you all enjoyed the ride. <3

[alwaysbewoke]

our entire political system is flawed, but

you're not going to change it in one election to perfection; what you can absolutely do is make everything worse in one election. also, you can acknowledge that the system needs work and that you want more without lying and pretending as if it has produced nothing positive for you. the problem right now with many people is that you guys want an instant solution. you want an instant fix. however, there is no such thing. there will not be one election or one candidate or one bill that's going to fix this. this is going to take long-term, strategic, methodical work for us to make it right, and i can tell right now that many people are not up for the task. they're too weak, but they won't be weak enough to complain, make videos, tweets, ig posts, reels, tiktoks, blog posts and whatever whining when shit hits the fan. they'll be the first ones howling at the moon and gnashing their teeth without taking responsibility for the part they played in the shitstorm.

here's some simple advice: pack the senate and congress with hardcore progressives. hardcore progressives. and then go to your local election and pack that with hardcore progressives again. but by no means should any of us accept any talk or strategy that gives the republicans power. at some point, you've got to stop playing checkers in a chess game.

however, the problem is this point of view should have been adopted in 2016. i fear that it might actually be too late because people played checkers in the chess game knowing full well that whoever won that election was going to have at least one supreme court pick. that winner actually got three and now has set this country back for the foreseeable future. generations are going to be feeling that pain. we missed out on critical years to address climate change. the voting rights of black people have been completely undermined. the educational opportunities for black people have also been undermined. discrimination against gay people has been affirmed. we saw the death of millions of americans at the hands of a global pandemic that was profoundly mishandled, and yet having seen and experience all of this people are willing to entertain the idea of allowing those in power who did all this to get even more power again. UNBELIEVABLE! people like that deserve ridicule.

if you actually care about black lives, people of color, trans rights, gay rights, healthcare, education, palestine, dr congo, police brutality, child poverty, climate change, restoring democracy, voting rights, equitable access to all levels of education, ending the prison industrial complex, women's rights, and etc do not entertain any talk about taking actions that will give republicans power. not in the short term. not in the long term. don't let your anger and your disappointment force your hand into making things worse for yourself and others. there's already been widespread voter suppression so if you think you're going to give republicans all that power and then vote to take it away from them down the line when everything is more to your liking, you are delusional. if you really want to change things (like for real, you're not just talking shit about "progress"),here are some insightful videos:

#FuckBidenButHellToTheNoOnAnyRepublican

[strawberrysodaslut]

On the Road Again - Rockstar!Eddie Munson x GN!reader

tags/warnings: ~700 words // SFW, fluff, no use of Y/N, established relationship no descriptors for reader, sleep troubles, slight mentions of nausea and vomit as well as mentions of the standard toilet system in tour buses, in my writing world the bunks are big enough to fit you and eddie no matter what!

i wrote this for @corrodedcoffinfest’s writing event day 5 prompt as it has officially been the 5th of July for about 2 hours for me so.. yeah. I had fun writing this so i hope you enjoy!

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

You’d grown used to the quirks of the tour bus. It wasn’t easy at first. Eddie warned you about the difficulties when you first agreed to come with him on his band’s tour. Living on the road has its challenges, and the bus is as cheap as they could get it. But you’d survived 14 hour road trips, and this time you’d have the love of your life and, most importantly, a bed. How hard could it be?

It was fine, mostly. Although not ideal in the long run, relying on gas station snacks worked for now. The toilet had an odd design where you couldn’t flush toilet paper or any solid waste. Gareth proved this when he forgot and caused a lingering stench on the bus for 3 hours, but you could manage. What you weren’t prepared for was the disastrous effect it would have on your sleep.

At first Eddie; ever the man-child, called dibs on a top bunk. He assured you it would work fine, and while the bed had enough space, the swaying was so bad you almost vomited 3 times in two hours. Jeff only offered to trade after Eddie had convinced the group that the smell of vomit would be even worse than the Gareth incident.

Despite the warm welcome of your stomach settling once you were in the bottom bunk, you still struggled to get to sleep. It seemed every time you would drift off, the bus would make a sharp swerve, drive over what seemed to be the largest rock possible and crash back down, or enter complete road rage over another vehicle and blare the horn.

The next morning when you stopped at a gas station, the first thing you went for was earplugs.

It’s hard to say if the road conditions have gotten better the further on the tour you got, or if your body has gotten immune to disruptions. But, over time, it got easier to get a proper night’s rest.

Still, you dealt with the occasional jolt.

In all honesty, you hadn’t even realised you had fallen asleep. One minute you’re resting your head on Eddie’s lap, his fingers lazily stroking across your head, and the next you have the adrenaline of a caveman being hunted, shooting up into a sitting position and looking around for the source of your distress.

Your panic settles when you feel his warm hands on you. “Hey, hey.” He whispers, gently running his hands up and down your arms. “That was a big one, eh? It’s okay, come back to me, sweetheart.”

You angle your head to look at him. Judging by the deep croakiness of his voice and the light redness of his eyes, he must’ve fallen asleep as well. The constant shows taking a toll on him. He wears a bashful smile as he looks at you through his eyelashes.

Stretching your back, you let out a groan and look out the window, seeing the busy streets of the town where Eddie’s next gig was.

“Are we here already?You ask, looking back to see the other band members staring out the windows like you.

Jeff stifles a laugh. “Already? You slept for four hours.” He says, gingerly pointing to the clock above his head.

He was right. It was almost 4 o’clock, four hours was being charitable.

“Huh,” you say, turning to your boyfriend, who was rubbing his eyes in earnest. He scrunches his nose as rolls his shoulders back slightly. He has less freckles now that he’s not in the sun as often, his under eyes darkened to the point of needing to buy concealer for shows. Yet you still think he’s the most beautiful man in the world.

When he notices you staring at him, Eddie flashes you a smile before wrapping his arms around your waist to turn your back to him and pull you closer. “Guess you’re getting better at this sleeping thing than you thought, huh?” He says, tucking your head under his chin.

You look around at your friends, the energy and excitement of the upcoming show beaming from them and filling the bus, feeling the warmth of Eddie and even the rumble of the old, cheap bus, and you feel at home.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

eddie munson masterlist

comments + reblogs are always appreciated <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn III

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: You're still sick

Mommy doesn't get you dressed properly the next day.

She lets you stay in your pyjamas because you're sick. She's sick too but not as sick as you.

Mom, of course, still has her hurt knee but she's the only one not sick in the entire house.

Your head pounds and your nose remains stuffy even as you play with your dinosaur toys, making them attack each other because they're in a war and that's what things do in a war. They fight.

"Open," Mommy says and you firmly clamp your teeth together," Chook, I'm not joking. Open."

She's got a syringe full of medicine in her hands and you refuse to open your mouth.

You've never had good tasting medicine before and you refuse to believe that Mommy's gone out and bought some.

You keep your mouth shut.

"Chook," She says sternly," This will make you feel better."

You sniff, wiping your nose on your shirt and shake your head. You know if you talk, Mommy's going to dose you up so you settle on just glaring, puffing out your cheeks to show her that you're wise to her tricks.

"Chook," She says again," We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you're taking your medicine."

"Chook," Mom says from the sofa," Come here."

Warily, you skirt around Mommy and run over to Mom, who lifts you up to sit next to her. Immediately, she attacks your sides with tickles and you can't keep your mouth closed anymore, opening it to let out peals of giggles.

Mommy squirts the medicine down your throat and Mom's ticklish hands disappear.

You glare, eyebrows drawing together in outrage. "That was mean!" You say," You cheated!"

Mommy laughs, ruffling your hair. "It was sneaky," She says," Not cheating. You'll feel better soon."

You huff but know she's right, shuffling off the sofa to return to your toys.

Helen joins you, curling up next to your side. Her ear flicks a few times as you continue your dino war. You have to blow your nose a few times because it gets clogged but Mommy is right because the churning of your stomach settles and your head no longer feels like it does when you bang it on a wall by accident.

"What do you want to watch?" Sam asks, channel surfing as she keeps one eye on you playing with Helen.

Kristie sighs. She doesn't look as bad as you did but it's still clear she's sick. She's got a bit of a fever and the end of her nose is all red. "Something that requires me to not think," She groans, massaging her temples to stem off the headache. She's only recently taken her own painkillers so she has a bit of wait until they kick in.

"So trash reality tv?" Sam teases and Kristie whacks her with a pillow.

You're playing nicely on the rug with Helen and your dinosaurs despite how ill you are.

Maybe eating all that dirt gave you a stronger immune system than Kristie thought.

"There's Love Island," Sam offers and you whip your head around.

"No!" You say," That's mine and Auntie Millie's show! You can't watch it! It'll spoil it!"

You sound adamant and Kristie manages to get out a laugh that could have been a cough.

"It's not a new episode, Chook," Sam assures you with her own laugh," It's last season. It's not going to spoil anything."

Your brow furrows for a moment before you're up on your feet. You've got two dinosaurs clutched in your hands as you wiggle yourself between your mothers.

They're sitting close enough that their legs are touching so you make sure to force them apart so you can be comfortable.

"Last season was okay," You tell Kristie very seriously," I will watch with you so you know what's going to happen. Mom, you need to put on Love Island."

Sam keeps laughing. "Oh? I need to, do I Chook?"

"Yes. That's what I just said. You need to, Mom."

With the other options being Deal or No Deal and Flog It, Sam's pretty sure that Love Island was truly her only option and changes the channel.

Clearly, the medicine has perked you up a bit because Kristie doesn't get a moment of respite the entire episode as you narrate what's going on during every single little moment.

Somehow, you manage to put yourself to sleep during it until you're lying draped over Sam and Kristie's laps.

"And we just let Millie watch this show with her?" Kristie asks, dumbstruck and Sam chuckles nervously.

"I didn't think she actually absorbed this much of it," Sam replies," It's like she studied it or something."

You shift a little in your sleep, death gripping your plastic dinosaurs so hard that Kristie can't pry them from your hands.

"Well," Kristie says," At least she's taking her nap without arguing."

"You mean, at least you can take your nap without her interrupting," Sam teases and Kristie rolls her eyes.

She lifts your limp body easily into her arms as she stands up. "Well, just for that. I don't think you can join us for naptime."

"Hey...Kristie! Kristie, wait! I'm sorry! Wait for me!"

Kristie doesn't wait for Sam though as she makes her way to their bedroom.

She settles you in the very middle of the bed but slipping in next to you.

You wiggle a little bit as Kristie tugs you closer, laying a protective hand over your belly just as Sam hobbles in, taking her own place in bed on your other side.

Helen joins in too, leaping up onto the bed and curling herself up around your feet.

"You have to get her to take medicine when we wake up," Kristie says, already half asleep.

"No fair! She's wise to my tricks now!"

"Not my problem, Sam."

[threepandas]

Bad End: Games Played

As children, we learn to play the Quite Game.

It's rather simple. You scrunch down real small, ball yourself real tight, and find the bestest most hard to reach hiding spot you can! Then? Oh THEN, children, we all get really, REALLY quite. Until mummy or daddy find you. And no matter what, no matter WHO, you Do Not Move, until THEY come and find you.

Not for treats. Not for hugs. Not for threats or scary noises.

No. Matter. What.

To the others, it was a game. But to me? Born just a bit... different? I looked my parents in the eyes, saw the fear that lived there. That hunted them and haunted their dreams. I watched the way they acted. Guarding me. Never letting me wander. Keeping me between them as they slept. Holding me, shielding me. Both whispering their lessons, their love, each moment they could.

And I knew it was no game.

I was an obedient child. Perhaps that is why I lived, where others did not.

Or perhaps? It was my vague, half remembered, knowledge of this world. To be more exact, the chronological series of Otome games, set in this world. Endless streams of political and social clusterfucks, that cast the map into conflict after conflict, all for the selfish romances of a few. Pseudo-historical straight to pseudo-modern magical realism.

Clans of mages. Elves, werewolves, the whole shebang. All trapped in an endless cycle of conflict. Sometimes silent, sometimes open. Always, soaked in blood.

But hey... at least the Protagonist is happy! Right?

We should be furious. We should HATE them.

Our Clan? Did shadow magic. Unfortunately. Because unsurprisingly, Otome troupes ran true, and we? Have a complete Edgy Little Fuckboi as our Clan Heir. Worse still, I RECOGNIZE that Edgy Little Fuckboi! The fucking chuunibyou is a romance target!

I'm sorry, I was under the impression the Clan Heir's job was to KEEP US ALL ALIVE! Not get your DICK WET! But, my bad! My fucking MISTAKE! How COULD I have BEEN so foolish! You go on, then! Just piss RIGHT off, and leave the rest of us to suffer, while you chase SOMEONE ELSE'S GIRLFRIEND!

Fuckwit!

Ha ha.... oh god. We're all gonna die. Aren't we?

We should trust Alphard. No one else understands us.

Everyone? Absolutely fucking EVERYONE? Waves it off. 'Just a phase' and 'he's young, he'll get it out of his system'. As though the problems doesn't run deeper. As though the Clan Head isn't an old man, barely holding us together. As though he isn't planning to hand it all over to a chuunibyou who refuses to sit still and LEARN ANYTHING. Who picks fights he expects US to win for him. Expects US to die for him.

So he can look 'cool'.

Alphard is basicly running this place. But does the Clan Head care? No. Because Alphard is a 'half-breed'. Because ALPHARD has the audacity to be, what? Fire Mage?! Oh dear god! Not ANOTHER GROUP OF HUMANS!? Gasp! Shock! Someone call the fantasy church! Fuckers.

Ooooh but their TEMPER! Everyone knows how UNSTABLE they are!

We should show them 'Unstable'. Make them regret what they've done.

'Bout to see up close and in person MY 'temper' and 'unstable' fuckin BOOT, old man!

No, I don't care if that made sense! Shut up! Fuck you! I get to be upset, okay!? This is nepotism and it's dangerous! And... and NO ONE LISTENS TO ME! It's like they're merrily marching towards a cliff and calling ME paranoid for pointing it out! Telling me to calm down. To stop exaggerating. It's a CLIFF!

The only one who listens? Is Alphard.

Alphard is our friend. Alphard listens to us. We should Trust Alphard.

Storming towards his office, shadows writhing in my wake, I seriously wonder. Would I have gone completely apeshit by now with out him? Left the clan? I don't know how he can bear it. The weight of their stubbornness. Their wilful blindness, which IS going to get people hurt. Killed. Probably already fuckin has.

How many more clansmen do we have to LOSE?

They'd tucked him away in some side wing, like some dirty little family secret. I'd always hated it. Big whoop! He gets two powers instead of one! Jealous ass little shits. It was fear and politics. I KNEW it was! He refused to say so, but I KNEW. And no amount of pained smiles and changing the subject would make me drop it!

It wasn't RIGHT.

God, the more time went on? The angrier I felt about it. The more it burned me. Ate me up inside. It's like my temper just...? Gah! Fuck this and fuck THEM! We don't need them! We should leave! Just the two of us. Go and never com-!

.....wait a second... that's not... right....

My head pounds with the worst sort of migraine. Shadows hissing like angry cats, as they crawled viciously around my head. Chasing whisps of something they can't seem to catch. I stopped between hallways. In one of our Clan's many, MANY shady areas. Leaning more into the darkness... helped. Made my head hurt less.

God, I've got to talk to talk to Alphard about this. It's starting to really worry me. The anger, the snarling flare ups, the dark moods. Not to mention the obsessive thoughts. It wasn't like me. Might be a curse? Maybe. Could be fire magic or related, so he would know. And if not? Well, nothing beats Fire for burning curses away.

....actually, Light, might. But we are A PROUDLY BIASED household here, thank you. So like? Not gonna SAY Shadow magic is BEST magic... BUT it absolutely, totally IS. And Alphard? OBVIOUSLY the greatest Fire Mage alive! No I will not be taking questions, thank you and goodnight.

We should see Alphard, we miss him.

Yeah... yeah I do really miss him, dont I? Where is he?

My head throbs viciously. Ow. It's been getting worse. My control too. My shadows fighting me at every turn. Which? Scares me more. Because YEAH, others? Have been big on the 'beat them into submission' tract of Shadow Mastery. But ME? No, no. I know for a FACT. You can not rule through fear. Not for long.

Bribery and alliances work wonders. Friendships and love. My shadows get FED. They get CUDDLES. I take my shadows for enrichment walkies and give them interesting puzzle boxes to play with. They fuckin LOVE me. Would meat thresher through CITIES if I asked.

So to suddenly Stop Listening?

It means they think I'm... I'm not myself. They are making the executive decision to act on my behalf, to protect me, even if they have to do so FROM me. And... and I don't know what's causing it. Don't know what's wrong or how to fix it. I'm getting scared.

Because something is very wrong.

Everything is fine.

Another wave of vicious hissing, of throbbing pain in my head. This time though... THIS time? I think I felt that. The discordant thoughts. The contradiction. That isn't me. There's something in me head that DEFINITELY isn't me! No there isn't. No WONDER my Shadows are so pissed! Fuck!

I stick to the darker hallways. It helps with concentration, the pain. Whatever is in my head? Is like sticky, burning, spiderwebs. Like trying to grab at thin lines of super heated metal, covered in tar. How... how LONG has it all BEEN there?

You should leave it. You don't know what you're doing. You could get hurt.

Oh fuuuuck YOU. Get out of my HEAD! Where is Alphard?

I stumble down the final hallway to his so called 'office'. It was a guest room once. As a kid, I helped him convert it. Back when the old fuck refused to step down, despite his son and heir, the next clan head, being DEAD. And? AND!? That Heir's fuckin chuunibyou kid being a tiny, insufferable, brat.

We get it! You're hurting! EVERYBODY'S hurting! Your fuckwit parents got HALF THE WARRIORS KILLED! We STILL haven't recovered from that. And Edgy pants goes on and ON about the 'glory of his ancestors' as though? He's not talking about his PARENTS. One generation fucking BACK!

That family ORPHANED me. But do you see ME starting shit? No!

Yet? God forbid the Old Bastard do what's RIGHT for the Clan! No, no! Between a literal infant, a FUCKING ZYGOTE, and a fully grown adult? Better pick the baby! Who CARES that Alphard was the better choice!? Chuunibyou brat is BLOOD! And we CAN'T have the 'half-breed' nephew in charge!

Better connections? More accomplishments? Fully trained and, once again, AN ADULT? All irrelevant. He's too fucking well liked! Too TRUSTED! Too much a THREAT to your precious little legacy and hold on power. So hey, fuck the rest of the Clan! Right? Why would WE need competent leadership!? You can just shove all the work you can no longer DO, on to Alphard.

Force him to rule in all but name. All but honor and title. Spit in his face then tell him to thank you.

Bastard!

He isn't there, in his over crowded office. Piles of paperwork. Empty tea cups, long cold. Mismatched pillows I'd stolen from around the compound, to make it feel less depressing. His classy art pieces mixing with my cheap, shitty ones. The souvenirs I'd brought back, again and again, because I do not forget my friends.

My head hurts so bad. How long has it been building?

Another wave of pain, as my Shadows hissing and growl in outrage, writhing like electric snakes around me. Safe and stronger, here in the unlit office of a friend. They want 'it' out. Hunt and hunt, but can not catch hold. How strong must the caster be? Older then me, probably. Far more experienced. I've been pretty diligent.

They'll stand no chance, though, against Alphard.

He's the best curse breaker I know. Honestly? He's the best at a lot of things. It's been great to learn from him. And he's? Gonna lose his SHIT. He already worries when I go out without him. But to find out somebody slipped a curse on me? Ooooh, shit. I'd almost laugh, if my head didn't feel like it was in a VICE.

Man's gonna feed them their KNEES.

As a PASTE.

.......I wonder, now that I think about it? Looking around the crowded office space? If Alphard has any pain meds? He SHOULD. There's no way in hell, he deals with chronic stupid all day without headaches. He should? Definitely have something for this. Probably. Might not actually FIX it, since it's magic based, but it can't HURT.

Decided, I get up. Slowly. Spread my shadows out. They love doing simple, achievable, tasks. Like 'find the box!' Or 'open this puzzle!', usually for treat rewards. (Cup time, usually. Or bits of my food. But honestly? They LOVE cup time. They like to hide under it and push it around the floor. Each group of them have favorite cups.)

Nothing but paper, cups, snacks, a couple piles of pillows, and a coat I had forgotten. Huh. Maybe his desk? Would make the most sense I suppose. It'd be on hand. Head and neck, one big regret, I stiffly shambled over. Organized chaos. More nonsense and damages caused by chuunibyou and his sycophants, in the name of luuuuuv~. God damn it.

At least no one died... this time.

I tear my eyes away from the top page. The one next to it? Shouting reports. Elves: pissed, werewolves: pissed, everybody: pissed. Guess who's fault? Oh fantastic! So THAT'S why he's not in his office. Probably trying to keep us all from dying. Another report after that. Protagonist-chan.... wow that's unflattering. Word it a little harsher, why don't you?

My eyes absent-mindedly keep scanning, as I look for a med box. Some sort of pill bottle. Something that might hold headache medication. Nothing on top of the desk. Drawer? Should be top right one, right? Since he's right handed? Easiest to reach. Let's see... pens, pens, spellwork paper, brushes, mints, bottle! AaaHAH! I hold it up to what little light there is and squint.

Wow. That's pretty strong. And not just for headaches.

.....should I have a talk with Alphard? Probably. Maybe? Definitely keep an eye on this. Don't wanna be jumping to conclusions, here. Still! Helpful. Down the hatch!

I pop back one of his pills, stealing one of his fancy tea in a can. He may complain, but we both know he won't stop me. Nor does he even mean it when he does. I'm like this sorta needy, demanding, housecat. I wander in, eat his food, tell him to pay attention to me, then wander off. Should have known better then to feed me, that first time~! He got stuck with me ever since.

Briefly a burning wire escape my grip. We should-Stop THAT! I beat it back down. Violently. It's taking a lot more concentration, more pain, then I'd like to admit, to fight it. Damn near wack a mole in my brain. There's no-CEASE! Desist! You are NOT welcome! Get! GET!

The pain meds are definitely helping. A LOT.

In fact...? Huh. Looking around? Without the pain to distract me? Those... aren't my shitty art works. Not the meme-y ones I bought, that I thought he'd like, nor the pieces I made in various art classes. They're just...? Random cheap art.

What the fuck?

Was Alphard ROBBED? Also? Where are HIS pieces? That one with the lady and the clearing? The couple dancing near the lake? That little statue? It's all random snobby fake art. Like someone wanted to give the IMPRESSION that nothing had changed, but had cleared out everything personal...

Alarmed. I looked down at the can I grabbed. It was the kind he offered to guests. Kept for me. Because... because he couldn't STAND it. Too sweet. Tearing the mini fridge back open? Nothing but cheap tea cans and teas he hated remained.

I slammed it closed. Urgently reached for the tea cubbies. Fancy LOOKING teas. The kind Alphard always makes fun of. Quality is in the tea, not the pretty pictures on the box, he says. His tea is GONE. Worse? MY drinks are gone! Why are MY drink-? The coat!

My hand snaps out. The coat flung into it by my shadows. The instant it touchs my palm, I know it is wrong. Too rough and too new. Some modified mimicry that my shadows could tell apart from the original. It's not their fault. They don't have senses like mine. I stare at it, feeling a building sense of panic, before look back up at the room around me.

Is... is ANYTHING where it should be?

Gaze snapping from place to place, shaking as the panic starts to swallow me whole, I realize... No. Not a single thing. It's all staged. Made to LOOK like nothing's wrong. When... when everything IS. Oh god. Where is Alphard? What the FUCK have they DONE to him?!

I drop the coat. The drink. Adrenaline slamming into me like a truck. Slamming the door open, I flood the hallway beyond with writhing, furious night. I AM Shadow and it IS Me. We run. Hunting, hurting, FURIOUS. If they have hurt our friend? If they DARE have-!

A howling whistle splits the night, closer, Closer, BANG. The compound rocks with the force of the explosion. The wards hiss to life like great titans of black sand. Ink dark, they nerely block out all light. Casting eerie spell light over the buildings below, as lights flip on. More whistling. Booms.

We are under attack.

For an instant, I am torn in two. Half of me? Demands I find my friend. They other half? Knows that I must protect the Clan. We stand together or we DIE together. Loyalty wins out. My parents, Alphard, the people I care about, they would never forgive me, if I abandoned my post now.

I turn from my hunt. Race towards the ward stones out front. I'll have to help the others reinforce them. Lend the Clan my strength. As long as they can't get in? We should be-

The wards SHUT OFF.

Even as I run, fast as I can, I watch with horrified eyes... as they slide back away. No. No no NO! They should do that! That CAN'T DO THAT! That's IMPOSSIBLE! Those are SEIGE Wards! Built over generations! Hundreds of mages poured power into them! Went over them with pin prick combs! They don't 'malfunction'!

Oh god. Please, God, NO!

Did someone SHUT THEM DOWN?!

Ahead, the sounds of violence and chaos draw near. Above, I can finally see what's raining down on us. It's war magic. FIRE war magic. Thrown from air ships, who's spotlights bathe the compound in a terrible, all consuming light. All the better, to prevent our Shadows from reaching even a single one of them.

Someone told. They didn't know about that limitation to our powers before. Our front gate! Open! Traitor, traitor, TRAITOR! WHO!?

Across the chaos, the bloodshed and death, familiar color catches my eye. Explosions and spotlights light him from above. The airships blades, kicking up leaves and dust. That familiar, familiar color. From his Father.... the fire mage.

Alphard stands so calmly, one hand still resting on the command stone for the wards. As chaos reigns around him. The pleased little smile on his face, the one he wears, when all his plans come together, ever so nicely. No. Please. No.

His eyes are so cold. So flat.

He feels nothing as they die. Doesn't even glance, at the kinsmen desperately calling his name. Dying at his feet. He... he doesn't look away. Just raises one hand, one finger, and...

"Shhhhhh~ Be. Good." He says, utterly silent in his betrayal.

My world shatters.

I run.

Slamming my palm against the evacuation alarm, sirens begin to blare. It's over. It's all... all fucking over. How could he? H-How COULD-? Grief wants to choke me, blind me, but I don't have the TIME. I have to get out. Survive. I.. I can cry later. Mourn for the friend I THOUGHT I had, later. I trusted him. FUCK, I TRUSTED him!

I skid around the corner, heading towards the closest exit. Gotta grab my bug out b-!

Shadows in the darkened hallway surge, up and over, like a heavy hand slamming down. I barely drag myself out of the way. Lose my footing as I do. Go crashing to the floor. Scrambling, I turn as my shadows hiss, only to be met with deeper rumbling thunder. Shit. No!

I try to get up. Fling my self up into a run. Only to meet a shadow formed backhand. Smashed, thrown. Finding myself slammed back, onto the floor, wheezing. The air knocked out of me. Lightly, dark shapes takes form. Alphard stepping through blank and barren wall, using the Shadows under his control as a medium.

Not a hair out of place.

Just the two of us.

Alone.

"Why the rush, mischief?" He teased lightly, as though my world was not collapsing, all around us. As though my best friend had not betrayed me, betrayed US, to our doom. Up and down the hall, sirens blared. "You look upset."

I snarled. Grief and betrayal twisting into something ugly in my chest. Hand whipping out, I aimed for his fucking throat.

"Ah~, you're mad. Is this because I didn't consult with you first? Mischief, there was so much to do! You know you hate all those boring political meetings. Alliance work and archival research. Sweetie, there were stake outs! You hate those."

Effortlessly, he leaned out of the way of my attacks, looking amused and unbothered as he continued to speak. I RAGED. Screamed. Taking chunks of the wall behind me, to use as projectiles. Anything. Anything, anything, ANYTHING! Just HURT, damn you! TRAITOR! How COULD YOU!?

In the distance... the haunting, damning, final cries of my kin, as the died.

I Trusted You!

"I know~" he laughed, as though nothing had changed. As though this were a fucking GAME! "It was so easy, too."

His voice became two toned in a way that could only be magic. One that was heard, one that was felt. One that... that I had...! Realization did not crash. It seeped, like the cold and fatal poison it was. His betrayal was not NEW... was it? Not SUDDEN.

I... I had been betrayed long, long ago.

No you weren't. Alphard loves you~

How long had he been in my head? He was my magical instructor. I had hated the Clan's main teachers. Right? DID I? Could I even know? H..How much? For HOW LONG?! I was a CHILD! Had no defenses against the manipulations of my mind! Would you really stoop so LOW?! Was ANYTHING real!? ANY part of out friendship-!?

I choked, on the sob I refused to let him have. He... he didn't have the RIGHT.

"Oh, Mischief." He said, sounding mournful as he strolled easily through the ruins I had created around us. "Don't cry. Shhh, shhhh. It's okay, dear. You're upset. This is upsetting, I understand that. But we will preserver, overcome, and together? We will get through this."

We? There was no 'WE'. N-Not anymore. Not after THIS.

"Oh but that's where you're wrong, Mischief." He breathes out, like the confession of the truely insane, his voice soft. Yet, somehow? Bonechilling in how loud it seemed.

"I get you."

"That's the first thing I demanded, after all! No more idiots. No more dead weight. No insults, fools, or brats I can't break! Ha ha! Just me and my Mischief! Free at last! And all it cost me? Was my chains. Best of all? All the idiot Fire brat wanted for it all? Was his 'competition' out of the way! Ha ha ha! Gods bless, usefull fools!"

He stood before me now. Head thrown back, hand over his eyes in disbelief, as he laughed and laughed. Unhinged with his euphoria. With the machinations, that had lead to his victory. And... and I could not recognize him. This... this monster wearing the face of my best friend. I felt numb. Cold and far away. I... I just... I wanted to go away... please, God. Far, far away.

Stop it. Please, Alphard... Stop it...

P-please...

My shadows curled around me. Battered, torn, but ever loyal. They would not leave me. Not even now. Not even to save themselves. Weakly hissing. Thrashing, trying, in their own small ways, to appear bigger and stronger threats then they were. In... in the vain hope that... that the thing that was hurting us? Might believe them.

Might leave me alone.

I had never felt so unsafe, surrounded by the shadows sworn to my once friend. How many times? How many times? Had I fed and played with these very Magics? Snuck them charcoal? Interesting toys to burn? Creatures of fire and shadow. Massive and rumbling, the very Shadows that once played with my own... now tore them apart.

It burned. Hurt. Who...? WHO was this man? This monster? That wore my best friends face? I couldn't... I can't... please! God, please! Don't make me do this anymore...

My mind, somewhere between delirious and screaming, for some god forsaken reason? Reminded me of the Quite Game. I... I wondered, terrified and full of grief, if the children would know to run. Not to wait, for parents that... that would not be coming. Not this time. Not ever again. All because of this man.

The smoke on the breeze terrified me. Everything terrified me. How? How could I possibly hold so much fear? How could there possibly be MORE? Just as I think I can not feel it anymore deeply. Once again, Alphard teaches me I am wrong. This... this is not how he, is... is supposed to be... how WE are...!

"Oh sweetheart, mischief, darling..." He again attempted to sooth, hand slipping away from his face as he rolled his head down to peer at me. Kneeling with almost boneless fluidity. "None of that. No more tears. Alphy's here, okay? I know change is scary. And you're upset and confused. But Alphy loves you just like always, and nothings gonna happen to you, alright?"

"Remember how you wanted to travel before? See those festivals? Go abroad? We get to do that now! Alphy can take CARE of you, now. Properly. Get you all the things you deserve. It'll be great, Mischief. No more stress or tears. Cuddles for days. You'll love it, I promise."

From beneath his feet, spreading like a terrible rot, black fire spread. It didn't touch me. Couldn't, as it seemed to reach, with greedy hands, down the halls. Consuming the only home I'd ever known in this life. Consuming everyone it touched, if the distant sounds of panic, were any indication. He was killing them all. Friend, foe, what difference was there?

Everything burned.

Numb, I could only sit there, before the stranger I thought I'd known.

"Our love story's been a long time coming, sweetness. My perfect, beautiful, Mischief~♡. Once we're free? We'll never look back. Have the happily ever after we deserve. Let the rest of the burn."

"I'm so glad I found you, Mischief. So glad I made you mine. It's going to be beautiful, darling. I promise. You'll thank me."

"Now come here, to Alphy. We're gonna play a game~♡"