#particularly when my cousins all have young kids

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 

“Did he do that?” He asked. 

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 

 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 

 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 

It was fake as hell, but it worked. 

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  

 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 

xXx 

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 

They really were looking for someone. 

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them. 

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 

[whenmemorydies]

Chaos and Consistency

I've been thinking about why Carmy chose a career in fine dining in the first place. Obviously there are the reasons we're told in the show:

Cooking was a source of connection between Carmy and his family, particularly with his brother/surrogate father, Mikey (recall the first scene of 1x06 Ceres).

Carmy also knew that he wanted to be chef from a young age (recall 3x02 Next and the convo between Carmy and Chi Chi, and 3x06 Napkins and the convo between Tina and Mikey about Carmy's purpose).

Carmy's family is well connected in the restaurant industry: his parents owned their own restaurant (The Beef) and his cousin Michelle owns restaurants too (recall Michelle and Carmy's sidebar in 2x06 Fishes). Carmy is given the opportunity to work in these places and gain valuable experience that opens up doors for him to go onto work elsewhere in the industry.

In addition to the above, I think Carmy chose and stayed in professional kitchens as a response to the chaos he grew up in, which was largely the result of his absent father and abusive mother. I'll explain my reasoning for this conclusion below.

Chaos

The chaos that would have been present in Carmy's childhood is never as clearly illustrated in the show as it is in 2x06 Fishes. The emotional powder keg that is his mother, Donna Berzatto, propels the action in that episode, whether its via her constant yelling at the people around her, the repeated dinging of her kitchen timers or the multiple pots and trays of food she has going that simmer and bubble until everything boils over at the end of the episode with Donna purposely crashing her car through the family living room:

Its clear that in Donna's house, chaos reigned. She was erratic, unpredictable and inconsistent as a parent. She also nursed an alcohol addiction and left her children feeling afraid. Recall 1x08 Ice Chips and Natalie's disclosure to Donna about the former's fears for her unborn daughter:

Natalie: Mom, I don't want her scared like I was scared.

Donna: I scared you?

Natalie: You scared all of us.

While its indicated on the show that Carmy's father left the family when Carmy was young, its also implied that he too behaved erratically and suffered from multiple addictions. In 1x04 Dogs, Cicero tells Carmy that the last time he spoke with Carmy's father, they had fought about the latter's drug and alcohol use as well as gambling issues. Cicero also discloses to Carmy that his dad couldn't settle on a job and had a new career "every ten minutes."

Cicero's chat with Carmy along with what we know of Carmy's father from Mikey and Donna (i.e. that he abandoned his family leaving his eldest son to step into the trap role of "man of the house", that he was an unsupportive partner only being present for the birth of one of his three children - Carmen's - and while he was at the hospital, did everything BUT support his wife through her labour), paints a picture of a volatile and incredibly unreliable person.

Consistency in childhood

One of the most important things that caregivers can provide children is consistency in their parenting. This usually takes the form of regular routines for your child and as much predictability as possible in your reactions and behaviour.

Routines and predictability give children a sense of safety as they absorb the world around them. Consistent parenting gives kids the space to learn what to expect in any given situation, particularly in relation to cause and effect. It teaches them about limits: physical and behavioural, because kids can rely on their parents to model and guide them as to what is acceptable in both regards. Repetition through routine has a big role to play in children's learning (as kids - and adults alike - learn new skills through repetition). Importantly, the security that children feel due to consistent parenting also gives them the confidence to take risks and try new things. And novel experiences expand children's knowledge bases and skill sets.

Think about it: if you are in an unpredictable situation with lots of things changing or out of your control around you, would you feel comfortable doing something totally out of the box that you have no experience in? Probably not.

Where a child experiences parenting that is inconsistent or unpredictable, this has been found to lead to a number of different, harmful outcomes for that child, including but not limited to:

low self-confidence

anxiety

depression

attachment issues

emotional dysregulation

Its clear that the Berzatto kids grew up in a home where chaos and a fair measure of dysfunction dominated. Consistency was rare and when it did occur, it was likely to have involved the elder Berzatto children, Mikey and Natalie, stepping into provide that security for each other and their youngest sibling, Carmen.

Throughout The Bear, we've seen multiple examples of the impact of that chaos and dysfunction on Carmy as an adult. Those impacts include Carmy's various attempts at asserting control over his life (for example, his spiral in 1x07 The Review or his obsessive focus on perfection, most dramatically highlighted in season 3). Another example is the firm boundary he's able to set with his volatile mother. Of all three of Donna's kids, Carmy is the one who's maintained the widest distance from her: its been established by those working on the show that by the end of season 3, Carmy hasn't seen Donna since the events of 2x06 Fishes (which took place roughly 5-6 years ago).

Carmy is also the only Berzatto child whom we see clearly articulate that at least one of his parents was chaotic. He's also the first Berzatto child that we hear name the antidote to chaos: consistency. Recall the conversation between Carmy and Nat in 1x06 Ceres:

Natalie: Plus, we never spend any real time together. This place is eating you alive.

Carmen: You always blame this place.

Natalie: What do you mean?

Carmen: I mean, you blame the restaurant. Alright, you don't blame Mom. You don't blame Mikey.

Natalie: How can I not blame this place? I just cleaned up shot-out glass, and now, I'm covered in carbon. All of our time, money, work, gets sucked up into this place. The only thing we get back is chaos, resentment. Its bullshit.

Carmen: Sounds like Mom.

Natalie: I'm serious.

Carmen: I'm serious.

Natalie: I just want things to be calm. I just want things to be on solid ground. I want things to feel...

Carmen: Consistent.

Natalie: Yeah. Consistent.

Carmen: Yeah. That's totally reasonable.

While Natalie identifies The Beef as the source of the chaos that plagues her family, Carmy insists that that chaos rests at the feet of their mother, Donna. It is here in this conversation, that we can see a difference in approach between Carmy and Nat when it comes to relationships. Natalie is quicker to give her family members grace (recall her admission in 1x06 Ceres that she knew it was a bad idea to co-sign with Mikey for ownership of The Beef but did it anyway; also recall 3x08 Ice Chips and her reaching out to Donna to help her through labour, despite all of her trauma directly caused by her mother) while Carmy has shown that he will internalise sleights (real and perceived) and will cut people off as a result - though we know how deeply feeling the man is, I imagine the cutting off would be experienced as akin to dismemberment for him. Recall his monologue in 1x08 Braciole and his description of how Mikey made him feel as they grew apart:

Carmen: He stopped letting me into the restaurant, couple years ago. He just cut me off, cold. And that...that hurt, you know. And I think that just, that flicked a switch in me, where I was like, okay, fuck you, watch this. And because we had this connection through food, and he had made me feel so rejected, and lame, and shitty, and uncool, I made this plan where I was going to work in all the best restaurants in the world.

Also recall the entire walk-in blowout between Carmy and Richie in 2x10 The Bear after Richie compared Carmy to his mother, Donna (I'll just include an excerpt below because, honestly, I hate rewatching this fight):

Richie: Where were you when I fuckin' put your brother in the ground you selfish piece of shit?

Carmen: You know what? You're-you're obsessed with my family. That's what you are. You fuckin'...

Richie: I'm fucking obsessed with you.

Carmen: You're a fucking leech.

Richie: I'm obsessed with you.

Carmen: You fucking leech.

Richie: Yeah.

Carmen: I should've cut you out!

Richie: I fuckin' love you!

Carmen: I should've fuckin' cut you the fuck out!

Above: The line that, in my view, blew up Carmy and Richie's relationship at the end of season 2 and from which it still hasn't recovered by the end of season 3. Screenshot from 2x10 The Bear.

Despite Carmy and Nat's different approaches to their relationships, the conversation between them in 1x06 Ceres shows they do have something in common when it comes to responding to the chaos in their lives: a desire for consistency.

Striving for consistency as adults

Natalie and Carmy go about achieving their goal of consistency in different ways. Nat has sought it out and found it in her partner and father of her daughter, my beloved Pete. The man is the definition of an unproblematic king: see this post and this post by @thegirlwhowatchedeverything for the evidence). Natalie has also got a head for accounting and project management. Its hard to be good at that stuff without being consistent and diligent. She's actually a bit of a jack of all trades: she can lecture a plumber on how to fix a toilet (recall her phone call about The Beef's possessed toilet in 2x02 Pasta), run FOH for The Bear and interference with The Bear's main investor, Uncle Jimmy. For Natalie, consistency means making sure her home life is safe and secure. It means being practical and reliably available to check in and help others, even to her own detriment ("if someone feels sick, I start to feel sick").

In contrast, Carmy spends little to no time on building a secure home life for himself. When he does partner up, its with a woman wearing a bullet necklace, who talks about almost committing manslaughter at work and who mirrors his abusive mother. Carmy's home itself is pretty barren and he appears to be living out of boxes. He's still storing his books in piles on the floor by the time we hit the penultimate episode of the series thus far (3x09). Its also clearly established that Carmy is not practical (recall Sydney and Nat's joint observation in 2x01 Beef: "Your math is fucked" lmao), and he's often not reliable (recall episodes 2x03 through to 2x10 when he flakes on The Beef's renovation repeatedly).

The primary way Carmy has sought consistency in his life has been through his work as a chef.

In the course of researching and drafting You love taking care of people: Love in the Time of Late Stage Capitalism, it became very clear to me just how regimented the back of house of commercial kitchens aspires to be. The creation and implementation of the French Brigade system is one way that the restaurant industry tries to imbue order into a kitchen setting. The French became synonymous with fine dining and restaurants because, in large part, of their involvement in systematising the kitchen in order to scale service and increase the number of patrons that could be fed.

That systematisation and desire for order, consistency and control in restaurants is reiterated repeatedly in The Bear. Recall the following bits of dialogue from throughout the show:

1x02 Hands

Marcus: [cleaning BOH] Why am I using a toothbrush?

Carmen: Its about consistency and being consistent. Can't operate at a higher level without consistency.

1x08 Braciole

Carmen: And the more he wouldn't respond, and the more our relationship kind of strained, the deeper into this I went and the better I got. And the more people I cut out, the quieter my life got. And the routine of the kitchen was so consistent, and exacting, and busy, and hard, and alive, and I lost track of time and he died.

3x10 Forever

Will Guidara: I was just, like, immediately obsessed with the controlled chaos. Like, the orchestrated frenzy. [...] And then you get to, like, be the conductor of it all.

We also saw visuals throughout the show of the control asserted in restaurants, particularly in BOH. Recall Carmy scrubbing floors by hand, the cold sterility and precision in the Empire kitchen, and the well-oiled cleaning machine that is The Bear crew in 3x03 Doors:

Note how different the above restaurant kitchens are to the state of the kitchen in the Berzatto house - how orderly and clean. While I'm sure these kitchens can reach epic levels of mess when staff are in the middle of service, through his experiences as a chef Carmy would have seen time and time again a system - as fucked as it was - to get that mess under control. In the Berzatto house, there was no system - at least no reliable one - that could reign in the chaos left in the wake of Donna and her ex-partner.

We know Carmy came back to The Beef to try and fix his family, as he tells us in 1x08 Braciole. But what if Carmy has been trying to fix his family with every job he's taken as a chef? What if he is using - either consciously but more likely unconsciously - his experience in each kitchen he's been in as an opportunity to perform control and consistency in the way he wishes he was able to have done at home, with his mother and with Mikey?

Carmy may not be able to fix people, but he knows restaurants. He’s had experience in wrangling, to varying degrees, the chaos of a kitchen into some semblance of order. And if he can impose that order, that consistency in one context, maybe he can do it in another. What Carmy will need to learn is that consistency in terms of a product (e.g. a clean kitchen every night or immaculately plated dishes each service) and consistency in terms of relationships are two different things. You can strive for consistent products but destroy all your relationships in the pursuit of them. Conversely, if you strive for consistency in your relationships, you may not always make consistent products (and quite frankly, that's OK - is a perfectly plated agnolotti dish worth Carmy's relationship with Tina? Is driving Syd to a panic attack worth Carmy's pursuit of a star? I think not on both counts).

Consistency as peace: Sydney

The reason why Sydney makes Carmy better at his job is because unlike him, she is a chef who has practically mastered both forms of consistency. She understands what consistency of product means in the realm of the restaurant industry and can execute to that standard (she may not be as experienced as Carmy in this regard but she's more than capable).

Sydney is also incredibly adept at relationship-building and the consistency required for this. In regards to her relationships, Sydney is consistent to a fault, likely due to the fact that the parent who raised her for most of her life - Emmanuel Adamu - was also a consistent and loving father. He modelled steady, unwavering love for his daughter and Sydney exudes this in turn.

For me, the most clear manifestation of Sydney's consistent love and care is in how she mentors the staff at The Beef and The Bear. Unlike Carmy, she does not visit the trauma she has been subjected to (which we understand has largely occurred in kitchens through her work as a chef) on her peers. Sydney does not displace or blow her trauma through others. The one time she comes the closest to doing so is in 1x07 The Review. However, the experience is such a foul one for Sydney that she quits her job because of it (much to Carmy's dismay). And as we all know, she returns to The Beef and then goes onto run interference between Carmy and the rest of The Bear crew in season 3, protecting the crew so that don't get in Carmy's line of fire.

Above: Sydney physically and emotionally protecting Tina from Carmy's emotional dysregulation in 3x03 Doors.

Like Nat, Sydney is reliable and practical. Recall the below non-exhaustive list of examples:

how Sydney took control of lunch service at The Beef in 1x05 Sheridan after the restaurant loses power and gas (including by building an entire grill from found construction materials - what?!);

how Sydney single-handedly oversaw much of The Beef's transformation into The Bear in season 2 while Carmy was out numbing himself with Claire;

how after the birth of Nat's baby, Sydney makes a shit tonne of food for Nat and Pete, including Nat's favourite lasagne.

Above: Sydney and Tina building an outdoor kitchen in 1x05 Sheridan

Sydney is also able to establish firm boundaries with Carmy ("You are an excellent chef. You are also a piece of shit.", "If this is going to work the way that, I think, we both want it to work, we need to try to listen to each other.", "I'm not your fucking babysitter") and pushes Carmy to be consistent in his relationships. Recall 3x01 Tomorrow and her gentle insistence that he call Richie after their walk-in blow up.

Carmy recognises all of this pretty quickly with Sydney, making her his sous chef by the third episode of the series ("I will dial business. You are everything else.") and offering her part ownership of The Bear by 3x02 Next. Whether Syd is going to accept Carmy's offer is another question and one that I suspect is going to heavily depend on Carmy's ability to repair and practice loving consistency in his relationships next season.

I think key to this, is going to be a realisation on Carmy's part that he cannot treat consistency in relationships like he does consistency in the restaurant or creating a dish. He can't just "be square with everything [...] and everyone" or "make it good [by filtering] out the bad" like he described in 3x07 Legacy.

That description by Carmy of how he wants to be remembered - his legacy - still reads to me like the description of a product. That Carmy wants to be remembered for creating something panic-less and anxiety-free while giving little attention to how he might go about actually creating the thing in the first place: the consistent work that needs to be done in relationships to make sure that people aren't panicking and aren't anxious. Contrast this with Marcus' desire for his legacy:

Marcus: I kept my chin up. Listened and learned. I did honest work. Fun to be around. And an excellent emergency contact.

Marcus' legacy is all about relationships and process. He, like Sydney, knows that at the end of the day, the end product - his legacy - will not be a thing. It will be the sum total of everything: what he made through honest work but more importantly how he engaged with others: how he listened and learned, was fun to be around, and was reliable enough to be an excellent emergency contact. Key to all of this, is his consistency (which Marcus models from the first episode of The Bear and is probably why he is held so dear by Carmy as well). I’ve no doubt that Marcus’ consistency and how he treats people was modelled for him by his primary caregiver, his mother Angela Brooks. This is based on Marcus’ eulogy for Angela in 3x03 Doors.

Marcus: She loved everyone. I think you can tell 'cause there's so many people here. I always felt loved. It didn't matter what was going on or if I was in trouble or whatever. I knew she was listening. And she knew I was listening too.

This is essentially, the core of consistent parenting. Ensuring that a child feels loved, even when things are hard. Its also the core to consistent relationships throughout one's life. And it depends entirely on people and how we handle our connections to each other.

Indeed, what Carmy needs to realise could also be put another way, as it was by Chef Terry in 3x10 Forever:

Andrea Terry: I think what I've learned over the years in all the places I've worked, is people don't remember the food. [...] Its the people that they remember.

Tagging in case you're interested in more of my rambles but as always, I'm interested in chatting about this stuff with whoever wants to (tagged or not!):

@currymanganese @vacationship @thoughtfulchaos773 @moodyeucalyptus @fresaton @ciaomarie @hwere @tvfantic87 @freedelusionshere @mitocamdria @ambeauty @angelica4equity @anxietycroissant @turbulenthandholding @brokenwinebox @devisrina @alwaysrunningoutoftime

[malisorn]

✧ || 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧

Pairing / Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary / As the diamond of the season, no one could ever deny you, not even your one-eye prince ๋࣭ ⭑

Warnings & Suggestions / Fluff, a bit of kissing but nothing NSFW, The title “Diamond of the Season” inspired by Bridgerton, basically idiots in love

Delight, desire and jealousy flowed through all the lords' and ladies' eyes as they exchanged their whispers of you. Within the walls, you have heard it whether it was about your beauty, your nature, even the way you walk or the sound of your talk.

Ever since your arrival at court, young and old lords have been following you everywhere, offering to guard you through the castle as they try to impress you with their bare skills. The ladies often invite you to their gatherings, you do enjoy listening to all the gossip and you know well that when you're not there, it is you who is the topic.

You didn't mind it still, after all, their perception of you only turned you into what you have always wanted, “Diamond of the Season”, the reserved title pronounced by the Queen. In each year, her grace will do the honour presenting the season's diamond at the celebration of her wedding's anniversary to King Viserys I of House Targaryen.

You held your head high as she announced your name. This is all you have ever wanted. It takes you back to when you were just a little girl, your lady cousin was named as the season's diamond, you remember attending her grand wedding to the noble lord of Westerlands and every time you saw her afterwards, she would always dress in the most lavishing gowns and finest gold.

You smile at the thought. This title would benefit you in every single way possible. As a maiden, men across the seven kingdoms would duel to take your hands. Going as far as to offer you the most of themselves only to hear your rejection.

“What a fine jewel, Lord Wylde.” You can see him grinning, thinking he has succeeded.

“But I do not think your wives would be pleased to know that you have gifted me this.” You put down the jewel as you stared right through him. He was a much older man, the “Ironrod”, the man who had wedded four wives and sired twenty-nine children. You would never marry him, he is merely a distraction.

“My fair maiden, I would displease them a thousand times over if it meant to be in your presence.” You could not believe any words you just heard. “As a fair maiden, I have been gifted with things greater than jewels. Perhaps we could discuss your pleasure and your wives' displeasure later” You instantly stand and leave, giggling to yourself as he was lost at his words.

During noon, you have a quiet time with Princess Helaena. Sweets such as lemon cakes, apple tarts and mint tea were laid fully on the table. The second you were named the season's diamond, you were particularly following the Queen around as her lady-in-waiting. But as you were closer to her daughter's age, your role was changed to Princess Helaena's lady instead. The two of you didn't have many similarities, but there are senses of comfort growing through your friendship which only brings you two closer. “Have you found a proper man?” Helaena asked you as she drank the mint tea. “The tea would do you good, princess, it soothes and reliefs-”

“Do not turn a deaf ear to me” She interrupted you and you stared at her. “It has been stressful enough, but I promised you, I would choose a husband who will stay in court so we will always be close to each other.” You touch her hand in comfort as a gentle smile appears. “You didn't hear it from me but Ironrod tried to persuade me this morrow” You can see her pure shock and you two started giggling. “Ironrod? Lord Wylde?! Did he not have four wives already? Twenty-nine kids, I have heard” You nodded. “Three as of now, his last wife died of exhaustion.”

“I wouldn't wish to see you beside him.” You chuckled again. “Never, I already have a chosen man in mind, I promised to choose the one whose presence in court, didn't I?” As you finished your sentence, that man appeared just at the right time. “Brother” Helaena greeted him but his eye only looked at you and you grinned at him. It was only a short second, but it seemed like he understood every single thought in your mind. He didn't bother to stay after, immediately leaving to attend his duties. What a pity.

But it didn't take too long until he ran back into your arms. “Is it true? Did he try to ask for your hand?” He kissed your neck with pure lust and hunger, you laughed at his questions. “Jealousy suits you so well, my Aemond” You softly move your hands on his chest back and forth. “I did tell you that once a man who's rich enough, fine enough and brave enough asks for my hand, I will answer.” Your words anger, his grip tighten on you. “He is nothing close to that, tis I who of royalty and ancient house that could provide all your needs, it is I, who is brave enough to asks for your hand-”

“Yet, it is I who have only ever heard sweet nothing from you.” You playfully push him away. “If you truly wish to see me bare your name and your children, you would take me to the Septon and make me your wife, as simple as that.” You left him there right after. You have already made up your mind, it will always be Aemond. As his wife, you will be the lady of House Targaryen, your children will have dragon eggs placed in their cradles. Dragon riders' blood flows through their veins. You know that only he could answer to the power you have thirst for and the love you have desired.

As a fortnight passed, all the signs were finally clear. “I have named you the season's diamond myself. It is only right that you should become my daughter-in-law”, The Queen said as she held your hand. Aemond stands behind her as he stares at you. After all the little glances, soft touches and teasing whispers, it finally happened. The Diamond of the Season has become the wife of Aemond Targaryen.

masterlist for more

images' credits ๋࣭ ⭑

Spring by Eugene Bidau

An Amusing Letter by Vittorio Reggianini

Lovers, Doves by Francois Boucher

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen, sorry for dumping a big rant in your askbox but your blog has helped me figure out my identity and I don’t have anyone to talk to about this in real life lol. Feel free to delete if this is too weird.

So I’m a 17 y/o butch, and I have been masculine since I was a little kid. I always felt lucky to have a family that was generally okay with my gender nonconformity. They treated it like a cute quirk of mine, and I never felt like I was being judged or that I should change the way I am around them. My dad got a kick out of it. One summer he let me help him build the deck in our backyard. He always took me to baseball games, he dressed me up in his old clothes, basically treated me like I was his son and I loved it.

I feel like as I get older, my masculinity becomes less acceptable. I went to visit my paternal grandmother for the holidays, hadn’t seen her in a few years, and the first thing she said to me was “I thought you would’ve grown out of all that by now” (in reference to my haircut and outfit, I think.) I just don’t know how to react to the way my extended family treats me now. They used to be totally fine with it, but I spent my entire Christmas feeling like I was being judged for every little thing.

Like, what’s changed? Why is it cute and funny when a little girl wears boy’s clothes and wrestles with her cousins, but disgusting when I grow up and settle into my masculinity?

It’s like I’ve crossed the invisible line between being a tomboy and being a dyke, and now no one wants to entertain it anymore.

Again, sorry for the rant haha, I just feel like I’m going crazy because I tried to talk to my sister about it and she said she didn’t notice them acting any different, but I swear my aunt spent half of our Christmas dinner telling me how pretty I would be if I just wore a bit of makeup lmaoo. I’m just wondering if anyone else has experienced this, because I’m feeling pretty lost right now. Thanks, and happy holidays!

It is not weird at all. I hear that young lesbians, particularly butches, do not have older role models to bounce ideas off of or vent or get any perspective on certain experiences. Moms and Dads and straight sisters and cousins, no matter how well meaning, will just not always "get" what is happening. They say things like "we love you no matter what" and "we don't care if you are a lesbian" and they mean it, mostly. But they often don't see the subtle clues (or blatant ones)they toss around that indicates how uncomfortable they are with you being so visible, but just existing as you naturally are.

AND OH MY GOSH yes I have experienced exactly what you are talking about with the deepening judgement as you move from a cute little Tomboy to an adult butch women. It is almost like they hope to "catch it early" when we are in our teens and redirect us away from the "danger" of being a visible lesbian. And a woman who does not, in very overt ways, conform to their idea of how a woman should be and act.

My dad was relatively consistent in treating me pretty much like he would a son and, to his credit, he did so with my straight sister. We were allowed to do just about anything my older brothers did. In part because my sister was pretty strong willed but also a lot like him. I was less strong willed but she had mowed the path.

Mom was the one who was forever concerned about my looks and behavior, both out of worry I would not fit in, and because she had a certain expectation of how her daughter should grow up. Both normal Mom reactions. She understood bullies and knew that sticking out could be difficult. Her solution was not to strengthen my resilience but to attempt to "tone me down". Her efforts increased as I made the jump from kid to teen and into my late teens. She would discourage me from cutting my hair, becoming almost angry when I brought it up. She would tell me how lovely I was in dresses and skirts and say thing like " a little make up would be nice". It got really old. It lead to us not always getting along even though I loved and respected my mom. She was a great mom. But this one thing made us both crazy. She could not cool it and I could not change who I was.

Friends at school saw hints of my liking girls. I stopped wearing cowboy boots and my favorite horse buckle and it their place went with K Mart Tennis shoes and a generic belt that came with my pants, again, from Kmart. I put away the cowboy fringed shirts and flannel and went with simple jeans and sweatshirts, the acceptable attire for boys and girls in my rural high school. I kept my hair long to disguise my "looking like a boy" traits.

I (barf) agreed to date a boy and spent the better part of that time making excuses to not kiss him or spent time with him. I was starting to listen to mom and do my best to hide ME from the world. Anything (with in reason) to throw the world off the scent, the scent of me being a lesbian. Being butch made that one more step difficult.

It is hard to hide the space we take up naturally.

It might seem hard to see it now by your family is slightly well intentioned, knowing that being "seen" easily as a lesbian can be dangerous. But also, they are uncomfortable with your energy and physical presence because it does not coincide with their ideas of what a woman acts, feels and moves like. This is a THEM problem and I can give you words of comfort based on experience.

The more you begin to be you, and dress in what gives you comfort the more your confidence will grow and be evident. People who are emboldened to try and change you for their own comfort tend to back way off when there is no opening for their opinions. They just sort of realize they are wasting time. AND for those that don't, there are always a few, you don't have to give them any air or acknowledgement. You get to let them waste time and energy while you look great in whatever you wish to wear and however you wish to cut your hair. And in a wonderful turn around, you don't have to spend any effort just being you or trying to defend or correct them.

You are fast approaching adulthood and with that will come even more freedom and independence. Don't rush it but also, work towards that.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

That Eden specifically called them “William’s friend” makes me think it’s a Windsor who has friends in common with William, which is probably more likely Frederick or Gabriella, than the Yorkies. But as far as I know, the Kent branch doesn’t leak…except it was the Kent branch of Windsors that Eden referenced by name when he was talking about the crowded balconies. I think it’s from that side of the family.

I agree. A royal watcher on Twitter was oddly furious about the balcony this year and complaining that the extended family were being “disrespected”, particularly the Kents. (They weren’t this worked up the previous two years.) They’ve previously claimed to be friends with some of the Kents and tend to lose their temper very quickly whenever someone brings up Lady Amelia liking that IG post about turning BP into a gift shop. Various weak excuses such as it wasn’t her account (there’s screenshots, it WAS her handle) or suggesting she didn’t read the post first.

I think the source is a more distant relative who has absolutely no chance of becoming a working royal, and thus no chance of getting back on the balcony if it stays this way. Even if W doesn’t currently intend to have any of his first cousins, I think they do realise that there is always a small chance for them as he doesn’t have any other siblings like Charles. This is likely someone whose PR plays heavily on their adjacency to the BRF (e.g. Amelia - “the most beautiful royal”).

I agree - it’s someone whose career is heavily connected to the BRF, like Amelia and/or her siblings. And really, they’re the only ones it could be, from my perspective.

Since this topic seems to be generating some excitement from anons (going by my asks, the top 3 options are Frederick Windsor, Princess Eugenie, and Amelia Windsor). Let's dig deeper into it!

The Mountbatten-Windsors branch:

Peter and Zara couldn't give two shits if they're on a balcony or not, and their kids are too young to know what kind of "marketability" they have career-wise or attention-wise for being connected to the royal family. Not only that, their kids are very close to William's kids. They're in a pretty safe position as far as access and privilege goes. It's definitely not them.

Harry and Meghan. Well, there's a lot we could say here, but we're not going to look that deeply at them. All I'll say about them is this: Eden is not one of their usual sources when they leak, so I'm skeptical it's them but Harry does (or did) have a lot of friends in common with William so that's the most plausible "William's friend" excuse to me. But the guys who are legit still friends with William know better than to leak, so it wouldn't be those friends (like a van Straubenzee, Grosvenor, van Cutsem, or Pelly). It would be someone with a tenuous connection to William - maybe a friend of a friend who knows Harry better.

Beatrice is also close with William and she has her own career going for her. Edo also has his own career and he seems to be pretty financially set that Beatrice, and their children, probably have a super comfortable life and don't need the BRF as much. It's not her.

Eugenie is still a big question mark. She seems loyal to the crown for now and while she does have a chip on her shoulder, she does know which side of her bread is buttered. She is also probably fully aware that leaking about William guarantees a ticket of no return to Excludedville and after getting the invite to the Cousins Garden Party after being on the outs for a couple years, I don't think she's going to risk being "in," so I don't think it's her.

Louise and James have been raised with the expectation that they won't be working royals, not even part-time the way Beatrice and Eugenie were back in the day, so it's definitely not them or their friend circle (who are much too young to have friends in common with William).

Anne and Tim don't talk to the press, and neither do Edward and Sophie, like this. Andrew and Sarah do talk to the press and have leaked about the main branch before, but I don't think this is them. They wouldn't be quoted as 'William's friend' but - BUT - Eden had an exclusive from Sarah a couple days ago (about whether she and Andrew would remarry) and this nugget could've come up then, from Sarah.

The Duke of Kent branch:

The Duke and Duchess of Kent have never leaked or spoken to reporters, so I'm fairly certain it's not them. Besides, they're probably too old-school to think about going against the heir, and they probably raised their children (the Earl of St. Andrews, Lady Helen Taylor, and Nicholas Windsor) to be more ordinary than royally-privileged.

The bios for the Earl of St. Andrews and his wife (the Kents' eldest child/first son) on Wikipedia read like they enjoy the professional privilege that comes from being connected to the BRF but don't seem to be flaunting it. It's not them. And I doubt that they have friends in common with William. Edward and Andrew, sure. Not William.

Their children - Lord Downpatrick, Lady Marina, and Lady Amelia - are precisely the people who grew up with social media and thus understand how the power, access, and privilege of the BRF can further their work. Lord Downpatrick has a pretty successful outdoorsy/adventure-based travel company; he doesn't need the BRF. There isn't a whole lot known about Marina, but we do know that Amelia had/has a modeling contract and works in fashion. Marina seems unlikely to leak (since there isn't much about her), but Amelia is definitely a contender as Eden's source because much of her career is based on aesthetics and lifestyle - which she needs the BRF for.

Lady Helen Taylor, her husband, and their children. There's absolutely no easily-findable information about their four children. Even though they're the same ages as the Earl's children, and they'd be fully aware of the BRF's power with social media, the fact that they don't have Wikipedias and aren't very easily googlable hint that they're probably not the source.

Nicholas Windsor, hs wife, and their three sons. Not them. The sons aren't in the line of succession (owing to their Catholic baptisms). They have no use for the BRF because they wouldn't have had any privileges anyway.

The Prince Michael of Kent branch:

Prince and Princess Michael have complained about royal privilege before, but they also know - and respect - their places. They also wouldn't call themselves "William's friend" and I'm very skeptical that they have friends in common with William.

Frederick and Gabriella probably grew up without any expectation of royal connections and both seem to be in steady careers. They seem pretty tight with many of the Mountbatten-Windsor cousins - Eugenie is godmother to Frederick's eldest (which is odd to me but whatever), Frederick and Peter probably played together, Frederick's kids are the same ages as George and Charlotte, Lady Gabriella rode in the ascot carriage with Anne and Peter, and Lady Gabriella has been deputized by William before. It's definitely not Lady Gabriella, and I feel pretty confident saying it's not Frederick, even though he and his wife have spoken about being members of the extended royal family before (all positive, mostly about the time when Sophie was seriously injured in an accident, and Charles sent his personal chef to prepare meals for them).

Frederick's kids are too young to know any difference about what it means being related to the royal family. I do think Frederick enjoys the privilege of being related to the royal family and what it means for his career, but I don't think he cares from a publicity standpoint. Sure, he might like to go out on the balcony, but the guy's a finance executive. He doesn't need the balcony to help with his career.

The Gloucester branch:

It's not them. We don't even know a whole lot about them. The Duke and Duchess have three kids (Earl of Ulster, Lady Davina, and Lady Rose) and there's not much known about them. They enjoy the social aspects of being in the extended family but they wouldn't have had any expectation of using the BRF for career or professional connections.

The Margaret branch:

David Armstrong-Jones, Earl of Snowdon and his kids: I feel pretty confident saying it isn't the Earl since he doesn't really speak much to the press (that I'm aware of). His kids are the ages where they would be fully aware of what the BRF magic can do for them but I'm not sure. They seem to have a healthy relationship with the Elizabeth/Charles branch and I don't think they'd do anything to risk that. However, that said, Lady Margarita (David's daughter) does do some modeling work and she has her own art brands. I still don't think it's her because she was in William's wedding and if there's anyone who can profit off the royal connection, it's going to be her because all she needs to do is flash those photographs. She wouldn't complain about the balcony.

Sarah Chatto and her sons. It's definitely not Sarah. She has a safe and stable connection to the BRF and she strikes me as someone who doesn't want the attention. Her sons are of the same age who'd have grown up and know what social media could do for them, but they're not really in careers where they need publicity or the lifestyle for success; Samuel is an artist and Arthur is in the military.

So all that said, the top candidates for being Eden's source (for me) are Sarah Ferguson, Harry, Amelia Windsor, and Margarita Armstrong-Jones.

Since:

Sarah doesn't need any help getting attention for her career (or lack of it)

Harry doesn't use Eden, and

Margarita has the royal wedding pictures,

that leaves Amelia Windsor, aka the Kent branch. Who is in a publicity-hungry career, who likes social media content that criticizes the royal family, and who probably has the sour grapes of not having had any access or claim to fame with the BRF other than sharing the last name.

Also, another nail in the "it's not Margaret's side" theory for me is the Christmas walk. David and Sarah, and their kids, are often at the Christmas Walk and everyone is often being named by the press. I don't recall the Kent Windsors being on the Christmas walks recently and receiving similar treatment - so that's probably more sour grapes for whoever's the leak.

Oh, I forgot. I'm too lazy to scroll back up.

The PB branch:

Well, we know Camilla talks and talks and talks. But would she characterize herself as "William's friend"? I think that's a bit of a stretch for her.

Tom PB or Laura Lopes: Possibly. They probably do have friends in common with William, but they've never had access to or privilege from the BRF before, not even after Charles and Camilla made it official. So why would they care? I could see them caring from their kids' perspectives, but they've been around the BRF long enough to know that the affiliation to the BRF gets their foot in the door but any more than that only invites scrutiny in and they probably don't want that for their kids, and I think their kids are too young to understand the significance.

So for me, all roads lead back to Kents: it's either Amelia or Frederick, but I lean more to it being Amelia than I do Frederick.

Yes, I'm procrastinating some work stuff this afternoon. Gee, how could y'all tell?

[sleepygremlin11]

The reactions to Miquella as a character is honestly so telling about the broader souls gaming community. I mostly mean on Reddit because I am like 90% straight cis Reddit guys couldn’t analyze a evil character with any sort of benefit of the doubt. TLDR at the bottom because I’m a hoe who loved to ramble…

I’m not gonna pretend that I have a perfect grasp on Elden ring lore, so if anyone notices anything like crazy wrong with this feel free to let me know. But, from what I have seen on YouTube and Reddit people are desperate to make miquella out to be the most evil mf to ever exist in a video game. In all of the analysis I’ve seen of him as a character. People don’t seem to want to acknowledge that he’s probably mentally stunted from his curse. Like be so for real 10-year-olds are the most evil motherfuckers to ever exist, being stuck like that for hundreds of years, would drive anyone to a little bit of mass genocide. People also don’t want to see that he had majority positive intentions, and if you’re looking at it in a way that acknowledges that he’s probably despite his actual age only thinking with the mental capacity of a young child, the sort of black-and-white morality that he used in his campaign is completely fitting for a kid of that age. I think dudes on Reddit just are all not allowed within 60 feet of school so they’ve never interacted with children before, but I think if I asked my cousins that are that age they would solve a corrupt world they would say they would force everyone to be nice if given the opportunity.

Also, please take a second to consider the situation he was raised in before you make judgments on him just being a completely morally black character. Marika is absolutely insane from what we know of her, and wouldn’t you know it? So much of what Miquella does is similar to his mom. But he also leads with intentions to be better than her and a more positive force broadly. anyone who has played Elden Ring can and should tell you that the setting of the game is absolutely grim dark. Most of the characters you meet want you dead and if they don’t want you dead, they will probably end up dying by the end of the game. Even in the games happiest endings, the end is still bittersweet and nothing is really fixed. particularly because that’s just what the souls like genre goes for in it’s messaging.

I don’t want to make baseless accusations of homophobia to an entire group of people and a fandom that is admittedly accepting for websites that tend to be cesspits of homophobia and transphobia. But I feel like despite They being similar intentions and results Rahni does not get as harsh of a reaction as Miquella does. I firmly believe that this is because he is one of the few queer characters that we see in any soul games. It’s of course not great that the one aspect of queer representation is an incest pairing where one of them is getting molested. But I would still categorize him as a queer character. I think with a het pairing people would be more willing to make the relationship seem less predatory, but because it’s a queer relationship and Miquella is admittedly a bad character, people don’t look at their relationship with any sort of nuance. Radahn and Miquella are not the only examples of incest in Elden ring, and I think it’s also very common for stories based on pantheons to have incest. That sure is weird as hell, not a good thing, and it’s weird as fuck in my opinion. But it’s common in these stories. This could just be me being naïve, but I have never seen such a harsh reaction to a couple in media even when discussing other similarly, toxic and abusive pairings within media.

Idk if anyone’s willing to share their thoughts on this, I am more than happy to talk in the comments, so please let me know what you think 🥺

TLDR: Miquella is an evil but well written character and his actions make sense in the story. Fandom should not regard him as harshly as they do. Especially on sites like YouTube and Reddit, which are adorably dominated by straight cis men. I think part of the reason fandom reguards him so harshly in these communities is because he is a canon queer character. It’s also two in the morning right now when I’m writing this so this probably makes no sense and I’ll delete it tomorrow. 





[medusapelagia]

A Magnet For Trouble: CH 1 Are you looking for trouble?

First of all.... Happy Stranger Things Day to everyone!

To celebrate I did one of those things that only I can do... which is... writing a prequel spin-off of my own fic Steddie BB fic XD Getting To Know You (Again)! Is it crazy? Definitely! Did I have fun? A LOT!

That's why I'm super happy to announce that the first chapter of A Magnet For Trouble is finally here!!!!

Thank you thank you thank you to my super talented artist @akichania who did such an amazing job and I can't wait for everyone to see! You can find the first art they did HERE!!!

And a big thank you to my beta @ghostdeb who is an incredible beta!

Another thank you to the @billybigbang2024 mods and the entire Billy BB server...

... and here we go!

TW: gun violence, teenager death Rating: E

Read here on AO3

The air is thick with steam when Jason finally steps out of  the shower. He’s alone, his coworkers long gone to drink themselves stupid after the particularly hard day they’ve all endured. They asked him if he wanted to join, but he is still trying to shake the lingering effects of his final call of the day. A code 10-13 with a fifteen-year-old threatening a seven-eleven owner, ending in the worst way possible. Blood was shed and the kid - because that’s what he was, after all - ended up in the morgue  with the coroner.

Fuck.

On  days like this, Jason regrets having decided to join the police force. Shooting kids wasn’t exactly what he signed up for. He was lucky enough today not to have been  the one doing the shooting, but still, the empty eyes of that kid will haunt him for days. If he breathes deep enough he can still smell the gunpowder in the air, even after having just showered.

He yanks  the door of his locker open and the sound of metal slamming against itself reverberates through  the empty room.

Fuck.

He can’t stop thinking about the kid. Just fifteen  years old, no father, a mother who works three jobs, two little siblings, and not enough money to feed them all. Just a number in the crime statistics among young individuals that will leave a big hole in his family's heart. Jason was the one who had to give the news to the boy’s mother, a lovely woman with a toddler in her arms and another kid behind her legs. She just saw Jason’s face and whispered “I knew it would happen,” even before Jason said anything.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

His damp hair drips onto the  shoulders of his  white tank top. His mobile phone starts to buzz while he’s tying his laces. It’s Chrissy, his cousin.

Jason holds the phone in his hand briefly before hitting the green button and answering the call.

“Hard shift?” A sweet female voice asks before he has the time to reply.

“Yeah.” Awful. But he doesn’t want to dump all his problems on her, so Jason takes a big breath before adding, “Sorry if I didn’t call. I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“Don’t worry about that. Robin and I were just leaving. Do you want to stay at ours?”

It would not be the first time that he slept  at his cousin’s place after a hard shift, but tonight the girls are celebrating Robin’s promotion and Jason really doesn’t want to ruin the mood, so he responds softly, “No, I’m very tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Jason…”

“I promise. I’m going to bed,” he  insists, grabbing his bag and closing his locker before leaving the station, phone propped between his  shoulder and ear while he fishes for his car key in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Call me if you need anything. Ok? Anything at all.”

Jason smiles, Chrissy is a few months younger than him, but she’s always looking out for him and that’s the sweetest thing ever, especially after their parents kicked  them out of their homes.

He shivers for a moment, remembering a cold voice calling him “ Church boy ” and the keys fall on the ground.

“Fuck.”

“Jason? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just dropped my keys. I have to go, Chris, but I’m fine. I promise.”

Chrissy doesn’t seem convinced when she says her goodbyes and closes the call.

Jason kneels on the sidewalk and gets the keys from under the car, puts his bag in the trunk, and then drives toward his place, looking absent-mindedly at the colorful neon bar signs lining the street until one catches his attention: The HideOut. 

He stops the car, trying to remember the name of the previous bar that was there, until someone starts to blow the horn at him. Putting the car in drive he reminds himself that he should go home, that he already had an awful day, and that the last thing he needs is to get drunk in a seedy bar, but before he can finish these thoughts he’s already parking and getting out of the car. The policeman takes a good look at the people in line, all of whom  are young and loud, and he feels so out of place with his white polo and his washed jeans.  He gets in line nevertheless, ready to be removed by the bouncer, but the big man at the door gives him a good look and then tilts his head toward the door.

Inside, the music is low and the strobe lights make him nauseous, but that's exactly what Jason needs to escape from his thoughts. The crowd pushes him from every side while he tries to get to the bar so he can order a beer, nothing too fancy, just something to help him calm down a bit.

A huge pride flag on the wall tells him what he needs to know about the place, and he finally relaxes a bit looking at men and women kissing under the vibrant lights. The place smells of sweat and cheap perfume and the ground is sticky, and still, this is the best place he could hope to be right now.

He turns to look at the crowd, and a beautiful blond-haired man dancing in the middle of the dance floor catches his attention. He wears an open red shirt and his wide chest is covered in tattoos and glitter. He dances like he has fire inside him.

“That’s Billy,”  a voice behind him says, and when Jason turns the Mexican young man who took his order is smiling at him, “He’s trouble. Are you looking for trouble?” 

Jason shakes his head — he has had enough trouble for a lifetime. 

“Well in that case stay away from him, huh?” the man smiles at him, offering another beer Jason had not yet ordered, “It’s on the house. You look like you need it,” the man says with a wink, before moving to serve another customer.

Jason continues to drink his beer, his eyes pinned on the stunning man, and for a moment their eyes meet above the crowd. It’s just a moment, but Jason shivers, his grip on the bottle of beer tightening as he feels the cold of the glass and the drops of condensation dripping around his fingers.

He shakes his head, drains the remaining beer, and goes toward the bathroom so he can  wash his face and calm down. 

The bathroom is covered in colorful writing. There are a few Sharpies on a little table on the side for anyone who wants to leave a sign of their passage on the wall. There are doodles, names, and dates.

“What’s a preppy boy like you doing in a place like this?”

The voice is warm and thick, and Jason has to suppress a moment of disappointment when he sees that the man behind him isn’t the blond dancer but a tall man with a mustache.

“Going to the bathroom?” Jason replies, turning his back and starting to wash his hands.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” the man mocks him, pressing against Jason’s back.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you need to stop it right now.”

“Come on, doll, don’t tell me you’re not here for some fun. With those plump lips… I’m sure they would be perfect around my dick,” the man insists, pushing his erection against Jason’s ass.

He’s not the tallest cop ever, but he’s been well-trained to disarm people and he’s not going to let this dickhead grope him in a fucking bathroom. He  turns like a snake and pushes hard enough against his assailant’s chest that the man falls on his ass.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jason growls.

“Who the hell do you think you are? You’re just a fucking whore like all the others!” The man yells, getting ready to fight, and Jason is more than willing to fight back when another voice interrupts them.

“What the fuck is going on?” 

And this time Jason’s heart starts to beat faster while he stares at the sweat-slick face of the blonde dancer who caught his attention on the dance floor.

“Billy, this whore…”

“I’m not a whore!” Jason yells, “And I’m not going to suck your dick, so go find someone else!”

“Calm down, tiger.” Billy replies, laughing, “Robert here was just joking, weren’t you, Rob?”

Robert glares at Jason but after a long moment of silence, he nods, taking the hand that the blond tattooed man offers him, helping him get up.

“Good.” Billy replies with a smile before he turns toward Jason and his smile fades a little, “Come with me.” 

Something inside Jason hurts. He feels ashamed and hurt. Did he already fuck up? Yeah, that’s not surprising. After all, Jason was always a big disappointment.

“Hurry up.” The blond dancer insists, and Jason follows him like a loyal dog.

The crowd seems to part to let the blond man pass through, and after a few steps Jason finds himself back at the bar.

“Hey Argyle, can we have two bottles of water?” Billy asks with a smile. 

Jason frowns. He  doesn’t want any stupid water, he wants to drink away all the memories of his shitty night, but the blond man - Billy, he reminds himself - is holding his wrist and dragging him toward a quieter corner. He plops down onto a fake leather couch and drags Jason along with him.

“I’m Billy,” he says, offering him one of the plastic bottles, “what’s your name?”

“Jason.”

“The Lord is salvation. Are you religious?”

“My parents are.”

Billy nods, sipping some cold water and Jason stares, enchanted as he watches  Billy’s pink lips and the gentle bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he sips from his bottle of  water.

“You have a crucifix,” Billy observes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Jason lowers his eyes to his own chest where a little golden cross is half hidden behind his polo.

“Yeah. Wearing it has become more of a habit at this point.” Jason replies, hiding the necklace under his polo.

“I’m sorry for Robert, he drank too much, but I can totally see why he approached you.” Billy snorts, drinking more water and gesturing to Jason to do the same.

“I’m fine.” 

“It’s important to keep hydrated.” Billy insists, his mesmerizing blue eyes pinned on Jason. To  avoid his scrutiny, Jason cracks the bottle open and sips some water.

“Good boy.” Billy smiles at him and Jason feels something warm blooming in his stomach. 

He turns his head toward the dance floor to avoid Billy’s stare.

“You don’t look like the kind of guy who likes  to dance,” Billy comments, “Are you here with someone?”

“No.”

“So what brings a pious boy like you to the HideOut?”

Jason could be offended, could reply with some snarky comment, could lie. But instead it’s  the truth that comes out of his mouth while the other man seems to read into his soul.

“I had a bad shift. A very bad one. And I just needed to forget about it.” He replies, gulping down the bottle of water, wishing it was vodka.

“Paramedic?”

“Policeman.”

Billy nods quietly. He doesn’t ask about Jason’s shift and he doesn’t make any obvious comments.

“My father was a policeman too,” He quietly states, “it’s the kind of job that can kill you. In more ways than what most  people think.”

Jason nods; it’s a dangerous job where you can find yourself on the wrong side of a gun, but Jason feels even worse when he’s the one pointing the gun.

“Let’s get some fresh air, huh?” Billy proposes, and without waiting for an answer he intertwines his fingers with Jason’s, guiding him through the maze of sweaty bodies. Someone waves at them, but Billy simply nods and keeps going until they are standing in the cold air of the night in the alley behind the bar, next to a dumpster.

“Better?”

For the first time since he saw that kid holding the gun, Jason can breathe. The smell is far from pleasant but the cold air wakes him like an electric shock.

He nods, looking at Billy’s long fingers as he fishes a lighter and a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

The warm glow of the lighter enlightens Billy’s face for a moment and the glitter on his chest shines while Jason stares at the big letters tattooed just under Billy’s clavicles. Even though  some of the letters are covered by his shirt and Jason can’t read the entire sentence, it looks like a statement, but before Jason can ask him any questions Billy quickly closes a couple of buttons.

“Shit. It’s cold out here.” He chuckles, and without even thinking about it the policeman takes off his jacket and puts it on Billy’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

“Can’t have you freeze to death because of me. Too much paperwork.” Jason jokes, smiling for the first time.

“I knew it. You have a kind smile.”

Jason feels himself blush in the fresh air.

“Billy! Where the fuck are you?” A female voice asks and a brunette peeks from the door, staring at them, “Is there a  problem?” She asks, stepping closer to them.

“I was just grabbing a smoke with Jay,” Billy says, pointing at him with his burning cigarette.

“Jay, huh?” The woman asks before shaking Jason’s hand, “I’m Heather, Billy’s partner.”

Jason's smile dies on his lips while Billy chuckles, “She’s my business partner,” Billy explains, “but she’s really possessive of me, as you can see.”

“You still owe me half of this month's rent, shithead.” She growls, before turning toward Jason, “Isn’t he too pious for your tastes?” she asks, popping her gum.

Billy winks, “Maybe.” He replies with a smirk before turning toward Jason again, “My carriage awaits” he says, pointing at the brunette, “I have a long appointment tomorrow. Are you going to be ok? I can call you an Uber if you need it,” Billy says, scrutinizing Jason’s expression .

“I’m fine. I’ll be ok. Thanks,” Jason replies with a nod. 

Billy studies him for a moment and then nods, “Great.” he replies, stomping out his cigarette and giving Jason’s jacket back. 

For a moment their fingers brush and Jason shivers as he takes back the jacket, “I’ll see you around,” Billy says with a wink before disappearing back into the club, leaving Jason flustered and confused.

“See you around,” he says to no one, before walking back to his car, still feeling the warm sensation of Billy’s fingertips on his skin.

***

A one-to-one mandatory counseling session for the next two months and a couple of weeks of suspension, that’s what Jason earned for doing his fucking job. He was too slow, his partner complained, he hesitated and almost compromised his partner's safety. And now he’s suspended. Well not really suspended, because he didn’t do anything wrong, but he’s on a mandatory paid leave for a couple of weeks. To make matters worse, he  has a weekly mandatory session with the fucking therapist, a nice woman who wants him to talk about his feelings even though the woman has never held a gun in her manicured hands.

She told him that union rules dictate that he’s provided with time to relax and process what happened so he can  come back with a clearer mind, or so they pretended. Jason saw the way his partner glared at him when he got out of each weekly  session. He knew. Everyone at the fucking station knew. Fuck them all. Was he really supposed to shoot a teenager in the face without even trying to de-escalate the situation?

That’s not what he signed up for.

The point is that Jason hasn’t mentioned that he’s been suspended to Chrissy, so now he’s trying his best to pretend he’s still busy with work even when he definitely isn’t. But  there’s a limit to the number of silly romantic comedies he can watch on Netflix before he loses his mind.

It’s Saturday night, one of the nights Jason hates most when he’s on duty because they always mean trouble, but staying at home watching television isn’t helping. The policeman grabs his phone, wondering if he should just call Chrissy and head over to her place so they can  watch a movie and drink some of the expensive champagne Robin’s brother brought. 

The guy — Steve —   isn’t really Robin’s brother, but there’s no doubt they are attached at  the hip and that he’s very protective of her. Steve insisted on meeting Chrissy’s family, which basically means Jason, before letting Robin move in with Chrissy. It was sweet. Strange,  but sweet. Maybe he should call Steve — he seems like  the kind of guy who knows how to have fun. 

Scrolling his phone, he sees on the HideOut’s Instagram page that they are hosting a party to celebrate their first birthday. Argyle, the barman, has prepared two new cocktails to celebrate the night: the Upside Down and the Right Side Up. In the Instagram stories, Billy is smiling while sipping a blue and red cocktail that’s apparently called the Upside Down.

For a moment Jason wonders if he should go to the club. He had fun last time after all, and it definitely wasn’t just because he met a beautiful man who is conveniently still haunting his dreams. He shakes his head. There’s no point in going there —  he doesn’t know anyone, the club will be packed, Billy will have forgotten about him by now, and- 

Jason’s finger slips and sends a heart reaction to one of Billy’s pictures. 

He freezes, trying to delete the reaction before anyone sees it, but before he can make a coherent thought he gets a notification: 

Coming  to join the party?

Jason might not know the screen name  of the person who is writing to him, but he definitely knows the blond man in the picture, so after long deliberation, he types back:

It looks like a private party.

It’s not. Move your ass and come. You still owe me a drink. I offered you one last time.

Water. You offered me a bottle of water.

Still something to drink. I’ll wait for you, but not for long ;)

Jason stares at his phone, still unsure. He’s known he’s gay since he was a kid, and even though that’s the main  reason he and Chrissy were kicked out as soon as they graduated, he hasn’t really had a relationship since they moved and he feels unsure of himself. His flirting skills are rusty and no one at the police station knows about his sexual proclivities. He knows he would definitely prefer to keep it that way. For a moment he holds the crucifix he has around his neck, finding comfort in the warm metal that’s always on his chest.

It’s not true that he’s not religious, but his relationship with religion has changed a lot since the first time he kissed a boy in the high school locker room  after basketball practice. 

For a moment he thinks about his cousin and how happy she is now that she finally found a girl she loves. He takes one last look at the picture of the tattooed man with the cocktail in one hand and the other raised above his head.  He looks longingly at Billy’s face turned to one side, his mouth open, maybe singing, and makes his decision: he grabs his jacket and his car keys  and starts out  toward the club. 

*** 

As expected, the street in front of the club is crowded with  people, but  what he wasn’t expecting was that Heather, the brunette he met the other night, would be there  waving at him and getting him inside the club ahead of  the long line.

Once inside, the loud music and the lights overwhelm Jason for a moment, and he shields his eyes with one hand. That’s when he sees him: this time Billy is dancing on an elevated  stage. He’s wearing a mesh black shirt and a pair of very tight black jeans that hug him perfectly while he runs his fingers through his blond curls.

“Don’t drool on me, church boy.” Heather chuckles, pushing him toward the stage.

Jason glares at her, offended. This time he’s wearing a black designer t-shirt emblazoned with a skull that Steve bought him for his birthday, and a pair of blue jeans. Not a church boy, but still a far cry from Billy's style. The people around him move to the beat  of the music, but Jason’s eyes are locked on the beautiful man dancing on the stage. When Billy finally turns toward him, almost as if  he could feel Jason’s eyes on him, he smiles at him. A big bright smile that makes Jason smile back like a fucking idiot. With a graceful leap, Billy gets off the stage right  in front of Jason.

“Are you gonna offer me something to drink?” He almost screams in Jason’s ear to overcome the loud music, and Jason nods while, once again, Billy intertwines his fingers with Jason’s and drags him toward the bar where Argyle is busy pouring the cocktail he created to celebrate the event.  When  Argyle  sees Billy he gets a couple of glass bottles from the back. Jason frowns, confused, but pays what Argyle asks him and when he sips the cocktail he’s surprised to find out that there’s no alcohol in it.

"Alcohol-free?" He asks, confused.

“I have been sober for three years, not gonna fuck up now, you know?” Billy replies, studying Jason's reaction, but Jason simply nods in agreement.

“Three years is a long time. Congratulations.” He says in Billy’s ear, cupping his hand around his mouth and brushing his fingers against the shell of Billy’s ear.

“I knew I liked you.” Billy winks, before dragging Jason back out to the dance floor.

Jason doesn’t dance. He doesn’t go clubbing. He doesn't hook up with random men who just admitted being alcoholics. If Chrissy could see him, she would not believe her eyes.

They drink their cocktails, leave the glasses on the bar, and then jump right back out to the dance floor.

Jason’s far from being the best dancer, but he’s doing his best, and honestly having Billy so close to him —  sensually moving around him, rubbing his legs against Jason’s — is enough to  make him shiver from the friction and proximity. And then he moves away, but always stays close enough  that they can breathe the same air.

They both have blue eyes, but Jason’s are calm and quiet like the blue water of a swimming pool, while Billy’s are deep like the ocean and bode of storms and mermaid songs. Jason can’t resist either.

When the song changes to a slower tempo and all the couples hug each other and start to sway  gently, they stare at each other, embarrassed.

“May I have this dance?” Billy asks, offering Jason his hand, and when Jason nods he holds him tight. Billy’s body is a little damp and smells of a mix of sweat and cologne and his heart beats so fast that Jason can feel it pumping between them. Or maybe it's Jason's heart beating so loudly to fill the entire room. It doesn’t really matter. Billy’s lips are on Jason’s ear when he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

Jason nods, it’s almost imperceptible, but it’s enough for Billy to gently tilt his face until they are facing one another and put a soft kiss on his pink lips. It’s just a peck, the same kind of kiss Jason gave to Lawrence in freshman year, but the effect is so much different. Billy keeps holding his chin, staring into his eyes like he was searching for something. And he might find it because the next thing Jason knows is that those hot lips are back on his, while a curious tongue is asking for permission to enter and he grants him immediately, opening his mouth and letting Billy explore and taste everywhere he likes.

The music changes again, another fast song, but they are still kissing as if  time had stopped at that very moment. Billy’s body is warm and soft around him, like a fluff blanket, and Jason lets himself be held for the first time in a long time. Held like that, he doesn’t feel shame or guilt, he feels seen and cherished like a precious possession.

When the kiss ends, for a tiny little moment their mouths remain connected by a little thread of spit that breaks when Billy’s tongue darts. “Strawberries and peaches.” he says, and Jason stares at him in confusion before understanding that Billy is referring to the alcohol-free cocktails they just drunk, “So much better than vodka or whisky.” He winks.

Jason doesn’t reply, he feels like all his words have been swallowed up by Billy’s mouth and all he has left is a fuzzy brain and a pleasant warmth spreading in his stomach.

“You ok? Did I go too far?” Billy asks, unsure for the first time, and Jason is quick to smash his lips against Billy’s. He might not have words or thoughts at this moment but his body knows what he wants. They bump into another dancing couple that loudly complains, but they don’t care. Pushing their way through the sweaty bodies they get to the opposite side of the room and Jason pins Billy to the wall, grabbing his wrists and holding them over his head while he keeps exploring and tasting until he feels they are one being.

“Should have known you’re stronger than you look.” Billy chuckles, breathing in some air.

“Policeman,” Jason replies, before starting to kiss him again.

“Do you want to move this party to somewhere quieter?” Billy asks once Jason releases his wrists.

The policeman nods eagerly and Billy smirks, tugging a lock of hair behind Jason’s ear, “Let’s get out of here, huh?” He suggests, and then he guides Jason out of the club, waving  at Heather as they leave. .

“My place is nearby.” He tells him, grabbing their jackets from the cloakroom, “Is that ok?”

Definitely better than some seedy motel, but-

“Are you sure?” Jason asks, “You don’t even know me.”

Billy pinches Jason’s chin, turning his face toward him, “I am. Are you?”

Jason gulps. He is. He wants Billy more than anything in the world. He wants his hands, his mouth, his dick.

Once outside, the fresh air helps clear Jason’s mind but it doesn’t affect his desire. He’s already hard and the lust in his eyes must be obvious because Billy grins and chuckles while they run into  the night like teenagers.

[fancyfeathers]

I love your blog! Your darlings are so well written, you want to be mad at them for accepting their fates but their backstories are so complex that you actually cant get mad?!

And Eloise is my favorite of the kids.

In one of your posts you compared the noble boy she meets to a Young Vincent Phantomhive… but how messed up would it be for the Moriarty plan if she met O!Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian instead… Eloise is very smart - O!Ciel is too, as well as very determined and a manipulative little shit (which we love).

Good luck Moriarthree dealing with this Queen’s Watchdog and his pet demon.

I know black butler is not in your possible requests but I found the idea pretty entertaining.

Keep up the gréât writing!

*Turns to Kitty*

“Wanna help?”

“Oh yes I do.”

Co-writers on this one baby!

Father Like Daughter (Yandere William James Moriarty and his darling having a genius daughter)

While this would definitely be an AU but it is definitely fun together, if they ever met it would be during the public school arc and I imagine even through it is a boy’s school that all the children in the Moriarty family would be sent due to them needing to be away and safe during a particularly dangerous mission that could take awhile, the girls’ enrollment is managed through Albert and William pulling a few strings with a few friends who work there, along with Eloise’s high IQ, Hyacinth’s high literacy level, and Madeline’s and Marguerite’s high physical performances.

Andrei would be placed in Red House at age seventeen, Hyacinth in Purple House at age fourteen, Marguerite and Madeline in Green House at ages fourteen, and Eloise in Blue House at age sixteen which would place her in along with Ciel.

Due to the the special circumstances I believe one of the members of the crime gang would be keeping an eye on the children, James Bonde and or Miss Moneypenny. Of course Eloise’s circumstances would draw attention especially because she is a lady, but not just a lady but a lady with an insanely high IQ, and any stupid welcome house traditions will be stopped immediately by James Bonde who is posing as the caretaker of the Moriarty children due to their special circumstances which is another curious thing about this family.

Both Sebastian and Ciel notice her lack of effort in her classes and personal studies but still having extremely high marks even in the most difficult of studies. When Sebastian checks up on her as housemaster during quiet time she is reading her own personal fiction literature, and Mr. Bonde has to explain to him that little Eloise had always excelled since she was a little girl, studying Shakespeare and advanced sciences when she was barely five years old, and her cousins and sister were just as talented but in different ways, her sister Madeline of Green House being a top tier fencer and mathematician, her cousin Marguerite of Green House being a skilled markswoman and equestrian, her cousin Hyacinth of Purple House being a talent in the theater along with having a deft hand in sewing and art, and then her eldest cousin Andrei of Red House being the heir to the title of Earl of the Moriarty family and being skilled in the psychological sciences.

When Ciel is late to tea, he spotted Eloise and and Andrei in the gazebo as well which quickly shows the quick favor the Moriarties had won from the prefects. That evening when Ciel is complaining to Sebastian, Eloise comes knocking with her little charming smile but when the door closes her little act fades away.

“You have no actual intentions as a student here do you? You are up to something and that is painfully obvious.”

“How did you-“

“Know? You have no idea what my family life is like, you learn a thing or two in the Moriarty Estate. I have a proposal for you, I can help you if you help me eventually, and need I remind you I have a relative in each of the houses. So do we have a deal?”

“…I-“

“I will let you sleep on it, it is the only fair since I am your senior. You can let me or Mr. Bonde know, or perhaps Miss Moneypenny… but she is looking after Hyacinth in Purple House.”

So the next day when Ciel goes to speak to her, he catches her at a time where Mr. Bonde is at her side, but speaking to her in a tone in much more of a scolding than his usual tone to her, showing that he is no servant of the Moriarty family that he was led to believe, much on how Sebastian is not an actual housemaster.

“Eloise, you cannot have others dragged into the affairs of your family, your father and uncle sent you lot here to keep you safe.”

“I am sorry alright, but something is not right about any of this, that Ciel boy is not hear for school, something is clearly wrong-“

“Stay out of it, or else I will alert your father, do I make myself clear?”

“…Very.”

When Bonde steps out, giving Ciel a smile as he walks off to check up on the other Moriarty children in the other houses. Ciel steps into her room and sees her in pure anger.

“Who is your father exactly-“

“And who is your butler? It seems we find ourselves in a stalemate of secrets.”

After the incident with Cole, I think Andrei would be the one to take his place due to his high level of manners and being the heir to the Moriarty name. Putting more Moriarties in Ciel’s radar, and honestly why he does not really need help from Eloise anymore, he is now curious about what she wants and who exactly her family is. So when speaking to Andrei one day and bringing the topic of Eloise.

“Number one, my cousin is far too old for you to court if that is what you are after, but then again she is already being courted by that gentleman at the university. Number two, if you are trying to find out about our family, we would be fools to tell the Queen’s guard dog, now wouldn’t we? Leave family affairs to the ones who bear the Moriarty name.”

Then he tries his luck with trying to talk to shy, little Hyacinth, but she just hides behind the other students or Purple House.

Then with Madeline and Marguerite in Green House but the two of them refuse to give him any of the answers he seeks.

Their family is so secretive is as if they were related to the Lord of Crime himself

(Both Kitty and I doubt Eloise and Ciel would be friends, rivals at best, enemies at worst since their personalities would clash rather easily)

(Kitty honestly had the idea of Ciel meeting Eloise’s lover and immediately remembering his father and also the idea that her lover could be the reincarnation of his father but that really wouldn’t work because of their ages)

(Also just imagine when the Moriarty kids are all at the gazebo and their father’s pay them a visit and the bunch all just are surprised and slightly yet clearly worried and distressed at the sudden visit, Eloise especially)

[getvalentined]

@sephirthoughts: my tumblr app isn’t showing your ask box for some reason so i’m asking here 😂 8, 12, 35, 47 for vincent please? 🖤🖤🖤🖤

(I turned it off and back on again so let me know if you see it now! I just turned it back on today after having it off for a couple weeks, so I'm not shocked it's a bit buggy.)

[For the Random Character Asks game.]

8. Unpopular opinion about them?

I mean my most unpopular opinion about Vincent is definitely that he's the single most compelling character in the entirety of Final Fantasy VII, but with regard to like...headcanons and character interpretations, it's probably that I don't think most of his monsters are actually entirely separate entities with their own unique personalities—I don't even interpret Chaos as sapient the majority of the time.

Aside from Hellmasker, who I've discussed before, any personality seen in Vincent's monsters is literally just a facet of Vincent's own with various traits and aspects stripped away based on the trauma through which they manifested. Galian and Gigas are more like partially-dissociated identities, not complete entities unto themselves, while Chaos has the capacity for periodic sapience only after decades of filtering itself through Vincent's consciousness via the protomateria. At its core Chaos is really just an animal, meaning any personality it might seem to express is the result of it mimicking Vincent over time, which is why it's just vicious and out of control when it manifests in Dirge without the protomateria. (I think my take on the protomateria is probably also wildly unpopular, but I actually can't remember seeing anyone else ever talking about how they believe it functions, so I'm not sure you can call something "unpopular" when there is no "popular" option.)

Fandom really likes portraying all of them as completely separate fully-fledged characters, and it's easier for my Vincent to refer to them similarly in most contexts, but he knows that's not really how it works—he just chooses not to explain it.

12. Crack headcanon?

Vincent is the king of Junon. No, I'm not kidding, this is consistent in basically all my renditions of Vincent. Even if it doesn't come up, if I'm portraying Vincent in basically any version of the canon universe wherein the Wutai War took place, Vincent is the king of Junon.

My version of Valentine family is founding nobility in Junon, which is a crowned republic, with the royal family basically operating as a ceremonial figurehead. The royal family has no actual ruling power at this point, but people like having them around—particularly the other noble families, who use their existence as a way of maintaining the right to a share of taxes and the like—and between the war with Shinra and everything else, nothing has ever really been done to change that.

I was going to try to explain the genealogy behind this, and then I remembered that I have a chart—and I'm gonna put it and the rest of this post under a cut, because this is stupidly long at this point and I'm two questions deep.

Vincent's extended family tree:

Okay so, Vincent's second cousin was Queen Adelaide, who took the throne fairly young due to her mother passing away; the one who "married in" doesn't keep rulership after the death of their spouse except in cases where their heir is still a minor, and then rulership passes to the heir upon adulthood. If there is no heir, the title gets kicked to the next royal-by-blood on the line. Adelaide died in the late '90s, unmarried and without an heir—but there were no other royals left. She was an only child, and all the others were dead.

...Well, probably. See, Vincent had been listed as missing in action since 1978. Because of the clandestine nature of the department, Turks that disappear aren't listed as dead until there's either a body recovered, or they've been missing for 50 years, whichever comes first. Legally, Vincent was still alive, and the Junon Society of Royals (aka the JSR, the group responsible for keeping Junonese nobility in their wealth) grabbed onto that to perform what's called a "paperwork ascension." These used to be pretty common back when heirs would get sent away to war or for school or whatever, gone for years at a time whether their ruling parent died or not.

The plan was for the JSR to plug Vincent in temporarily and proceed to dig back through the entire genealogical record to try to find some distant heir who was actually present and definitely alive to put on the throne instead (there is also a mechanism for this in Junonese tradition) but there was the whole war with Wutai, and then a bunch of terrorist nonsense happened, then everything went sideways with Meteor, then Geostigma, then Omega—and then King Vincent Vickalor Valentine VII, a man who should have been about 60 years old and whom everyone assumed was actually dead as hell everywhere except on paper, reappeared working with the WRO in 2010.

Vincent had absolutely no idea any of this had happened. He had no fucking clue that he'd legally been king of Junon for over a decade. Upon finding out via a very angry letter from the JSR asking him to pass the crown to another noble family and please do not come be King Cryptid the public cannot take it, he instead routed as much of the royal family's share of taxes as he was legally allowed to the WRO as a recurring charitable donation, including that same percentage from the escrow account into which that share had been fed since Queen Adelaide's death, and divvied up as much of the rest as was permissible to various other charitable causes. A good chunk of it is stuck just sitting there, which is annoying because he doesn't want it, but if he dissolves the monarchy then the WRO stops getting that funding so he can't do that just yet. He will eventually, since he can't die and thus the JSR screwed themselves over by putting him "in charge," but it will be a while before he does it.

This means that the king of Junon owns three pairs of pants, lives in an apartment that contains only a mattress and a radio, and hasn't gotten his hair cut in over 30 years. The JSR do not broadcast his existence and he doesn't meddle too much with their bougie nonsense, so it's not general public knowledge.

Reeve knew the entire time and just never said anything.

35. Their idea of a perfect day?

This one is actually really hard, because my Vincent doesn't really...think that way? He doesn't really make his own plans or have his own aspirations, because if he thinks about his future he won't stop and that's pretty crippling for him what with the immortality, so the idea of a perfect day hasn't crossed his mind since he was sent to Nibelheim.

If we're going outside his thoughts on the concept and into what would be a perfect day for him within the feasible bounds of his general existence immediately postcanon, it would vary depending on which headcanon universe I'm working with. Going with the one I've been playing in the most recently, it would start with cloudy weather in Junon and a short workday at WRO HQ—busy enough to keep occupied but slow enough that he can afford to head out early—followed by his mostly-monthly visit to Edge to help Tifa deep clean the bar and kitchen at Seventh Heaven. After that, he and Tifa and Cloud (and Barret, who is stated to live in Edge as well post-AC) would hang out in the closed bar and catch up, maybe have a few drinks; once it's dark enough, Vincent and Cloud would split off, finding somewhere quiet and secluded to recover from all that peopling. Maybe up on the roof, maybe a little ways out of town, and they'd stay out there until Cloud got sleepy, at which point Vincent would get him home. Maybe Vincent would stay the night, but realistically it'd only ever be to sleep. Someday maybe it would be more than that, but Vincent does his best not to think about the future.

A perfect day is being useful, getting to pretend he's still a normal person, and spending time with the people who won't call him out on the lie.

47. Their dream job?

Vincent's dream job is being a Turk. Period. It doesn't matter what point in time we're talking about, that's the answer.

Postcanon, this isn't because he wants anything to do with Shinra (the Turks don't actually work with Shinra anymore by then in my headcanon, the department was absorbed into the WRO just after AC), but because it was the only thing Vincent ever really wanted to do before. He and Tseng would butt heads too much for him to rejoin the department, but that doesn't even matter—Vincent is extremely mako-enhanced, among other things, and Turks aren't allowed to have any biological augmentations. His abilities may have been forced on him, but they're still very much enhancements, so Vincent's physiology bars him from the only job he ever wanted.

Vincent is no longer a Turk, and never will be again—no matter how much he might dream about it.

[felixravinstills]

any hcs about felix when he was a kid? i'm curious lol

Hmm... See the problem is I don't know how much of my fics, you've read, anon, so I feel like I'm danger of repeating things you might already know. I feel like a lot of my headcanons get sprinkled across all my fics lol. Some of this might be familiar if you're familiar with my fics.

Thanks for the ask! (HCs below cut)

He was orphaned during the the beginning of the war at age 4 (going on 5)

He's raised in the Presidential Palace by President Ravinstill (whose pretty distant because that man has baggage)

He has two living cousins who are over 10 years older than him, Marius and Gnaeus. He isn't particularly close with either of them.

He doesn't remember much of his parents (or the rest of the large, dead extended family I gave him) as he grows older which is part of what reinforces the distance between him, his cousins, and his great-uncle.

To grieve with Felix would require them to remind him of what he's lost which would rip open wounds for the rest of them that are just beginning to try and heal. In the middle of a war, those three don't have the emotional energy. Once the war's ended, they all feel like it's too late.

He was homeschooled for the duration of the war, and doesn't join the rest of the kids until he's 8 going on 9 (around the time the war ends)

Being a Ravinstill offers him amount of confidence in social interactions. He believes that he's owed a certain amount of respect from his peers

He also offers a certain amount of respect back, but he can come across as rather patronizing

He doesn't actually pull rank (saying his great-uncle is the president or that his family is more prestigious). He expects people to to treat him that well without a reminder, and when they don't, he believes he's failing to fall into his idealized view of what a Ravinstill should be.(I weirdly think about John Locke's social contract when I think about Felix's views of his interpersonal relationships. Ravinstills are great, and everyone should want to be our friends! If they don't want to be mine, maybe I'm not doing it right? Maybe, I should be overthrown I'm not a worthy Ravinstill?)

For most of his childhood, he isn't really able to tell the difference from doing what he thinks he should and doing what he actually wants to do

Felix is jealous that Gaul can get his great-uncle's full attention so easily, and he develops a bit of a grudge against her from a young age. Plenty of other officials can get the president's attention more than Felix, but he's sensitive to how his distant father figure interacts with others and can see the president will pull his attention away from other matters if Gaul speaks.

[sweetteaanddragons]

Hi

Huge fan of your writing here. I was wondering if you had any ideas for a sequel to your ‘A Question of Precedence’ AU. No need to answer if you dont feel like just my imagination running wild lol but i was curious about how Feanor meeting Fingolfin, Finarfin, Lalwen and their wives and kids would go down. I imagine it would be strange to meet you brother who died as an infant (something which caused your father a lot of trauma and grief) as an adult with a wife and kid. What was their opinion on Feanor before Finwe was slain and Feanor reborn. Did they ever feel like their father loved them less?Would Feanor + siblings get along better in this AU or just about the same ? What was it like for Finwe to die and meet his son and ex wife only for them to leave to live with Vaire ? What was it like for Findis to raise her famously chaotic brother? Are they close? What’s it like for Indis to lose her husband and have his dead child brought back in his stead and then have said child raised to be king a title which previously belonged to her children. What would the relationship be between the sons of Feanor and their cousins ? how is Feanor viewed by those that stayed in Valinor and those that left especially after he chose to aid his kin in Beleriand.

This got a bit longer than intended so again no need at all to answer i just love your writing ❤️💕

Thank you so much! It took me a minute to remember that AU - it's been a while!

(For those who also don't remember, this was my AU in which Feanor died as an infant when Miriel did. All of his half-siblings except Findis still end up going to fight in Beleriand; Findis stays and ends up raising him when Feanor is released from the Halls. Feanor, for his part, ends up leading the reinforcements to Middle Earth.)

I think meeting Feanor is definitely strange for the siblings that went to Middle Earth, especially because of the circumstances. They are used to thinking of him as a Tragedy™, not a full grown force of nature riding to the rescue.

I do think they'd get along better in this AU; a Feanor raised reasonably well by Findis is not going to be raised to resent his siblings, and the attachment to his father that he was so afraid of the others usurping is going to look very different here. He also isn't worried about competing with the others for the crown; Findis raises him to know that it's his as soon as he's old enough, and the others aren't there to fight for it.

His relationship to Indis is still complicated, I think; she knows Finwe chose to remain dead in order to give him a chance to return, and part of her does resent that, but on the other hand, she's ashamed of resenting a baby for anything, especially that. The issues between her and Findis regarding Indis's perceived abandonment might actually cause as many issues between Feanor and her as the remarriage does.

For a long time, Feanor's sons have no relationship with their cousins, for obvious reasons. This changes with Fingon's resurrection; they are very, very eager to get to know him, and he is very, very eager to encourage them to go fight in Beleriand . . . though he feels a bit guilty about that. Whatever their actual ages, he can't help thinking they're too young to be dragged into this.

Once they get to Beleriand, their surviving cousins have an interesting mix of "Reinforcements! I love you!" and . . . possibly some resentment? Because they've been fighting this war all this time, and here their younger cousins come sweeping in, all shining and golden from Valinor to win the day without the centuries of hopeless warfare. Once they get to know them, some of those relationships improve.

(Some get worse.)

In general, the Noldor in Beleriand see Feanor as a hero and a particularly shining symbol of hope - if even Finwe's long lost son has returned, surely all darkness can be overcome! The ones in Valinor see him as less of a symbol, but he is still their respected king (though there might have been some dissent about showing up as reinforcements.)

[aconflagrationofmyown]

Will we be seeing more of sweet Rosalee’s connection to her father? As an ultimate Daddy’s girl, I hope so. I showered with my Dad until I was in third grade and when they told me I had to start showering alone I refused to shower for like two weeks, I’d scream like if they were murdering me when they tried but my mom’s the tougher one and she was like “Nope she’s going to learn to shower alone!” So she waited me out haha. But even afterwards like in high school I’d have movie nights still with him and I’d lay on top of him on the couch and cuddle. My dad was honestly just the best. He was my best friend. When I had my first kid he went in the hospital room and checked on me first. It’s sad that some people would probably read this and think it’s weird that I was so close to my Dad but to me, it’s more sad that we live in a society where a Dad and daughter can’t be affectionate with each other after a certain age because of the world we live in. My cousins all hated me when I was young because my Dad was the fun uncle but I wouldn’t let him play with other kids! I asked him one time if I bugged him by always being with him but he told me that he was just always scared to fail me which blows my mind because I just always wanted to be near him that’s all I needed. Even after I had my own kid I’d go visit him and lay in the bed with him and bug him and my mom. When he would vacation without me, he would check in with me three times a day and yes, I have siblings but I was the only one who gravitated towards my Dad like that my sister and brother were all about my mom and I’d ask them why if Dad was better and my mom would get upset with me lol! Don’t get me wrong I love LOVE my mom and she knows I do it’s just a different connection. Hope you don’t mind me sharing my memories, Rosalee just wanting to shower with her Daddy and getting a kiss attack on her face until she smiled brought back happy times and I would love to see so much more of that especially because I’m sure Elvis was an amazing father to Lisa Marie too.

P.S I still refer to him as my ‘Daddy’ even now and as I’m from Los Angeles (I think it may be more normal to do so in the South?) so many people tell me that’s weird I hate what people have done to the word Daddy.

Oh my darling anon, this touched my heart so much. We are indeed the lucky ones to have our own connection and memories to draw on, makes me sad for others who would view it through the lens of our unfortunate and broken world. Not everyone’s so fortunate but it’s a beautiful thing and ought to be normalized as much as it can be, the bad always gets more publicity -and while it should always be called out- my goodness, we gotta have representation for the good dads and their devoted little girls.

All of Lisa’s anecdotes suggest such a connection with Elvis, and even the way she respected and honored the man who was her daddy (even though she called him Elvis, haha) more than the legend she could have, touches me. I love it and have tried to bring that to Sarge and give a various connections to each kid but Rosalee is that one special baby who relies fully on him, and that’s quite the weight for him as Elaine is so capable he’s used to the kids finding her sufficient, but not this child, she needs him at all times and I think he’d love that and take it seriously.

All that to say, YES WE WILL GET SO MUCH MORE OF THEM including when she’s an adult and a child. If you ever have any prompts you’d particularly like to see, from memory or otherwise, please send them in!! This is another reason I chose Riley as her faceclaim, I wanted his Rosalee to be his real relative and Riley’s got his bright grin, in my opinion.

Can’t thank you enough for this sweet note, you’ve made my night.

Much love, Marina 💋🎀💋

[viscardiac]

it's been a Dayne day for some reason. you could even say a Day-ne. (ba dum ts). ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP FUCKOS IT'S TIME FOR VISCARDI'S NEW FAVE DELUSION (Dayne edition)

Fire and Blood cuts off at a particular point in Targaryen rule, the end of Aegon III's regency. He rules as king for 20 more years, before an early death. Then, his son, Daeron I, takes over, and The Bullshit™ with Dorne begins. Dornish takeover, which results in Dorne being brought into the Seven Kingdoms by his cousin nephew whatever Daeron 2 (electric boogaloo) later on.

Now. The Daynes are just. Overall. we don't really know jackshit about them. GRRM says he can't divulge their words bc it's a huge ass spoiler. My reasoning is bc they do become relevant later on, esp with the choice of Dyanna Dayne as wife to then Prince Maekar. Shit happens in Dorne and in court and i think that might be the reason why there's a postpone of the release of F&B2, aside from the obvious TWOW ordeal. I do think that's also why the choice of where to cut off might be there and not at the end of the dance or after his reign. F&B2 likely does contain context that helps with some of the unsolved things still going on in ASOIAF.

Anyways. We have Lady Dyanna Dayne, who gives birth, aside from Aegon, Aemon, and Daeron, to the three people of interest for this, Aerion, Daella, and Rhae. According to Aemon, Rhae and Daella have had children, and Aerion has had a wife, his cousin, Daenora, and with her, he had a son, whose "ill fated" name was Maegor. Aerion died guzzling down greek fire as we all know, but the fates of 1) Daella, 2) Rhae, 3) Daenora, and 4) Maegor are unknown aside from "existed" and "procreated" in the women's case. Those four are the only unnacounted for trueborn Targaryens we got. Everyone else was given a final location, like in Saera's case, where she was known to be in Volantis.

We have no idea who do Rhae and Daella are married to, if they indeed do get married. In Maegor's case, we don't even know if he made it past infancy. Daenora herself could have gotten married again, she was young when Aerion got himself killed.

My working theory here is that one of those folks married into house Dayne. Whoever those folks married, they're unnacounted for in the main tree. They were not given the name Targaryen. And it would have made sense to a certain degree that it was into Dyanna's house. It could have been any of them, but I sure as fuck would like if it was baby Maegor because it would be Particularly Funny.

I might be wrong, and i might not be, who knows. Something is UP with the Daynes and it happened after the conquest of Dorne.

Note: I do not account this as a secret targ theory because they're Not Targs. Whoever married into the house had their kids named Dayne and so on and so forth amen.

This has been me for this Day-ne's bullshit. Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Nothing naughty or romantic here, but how would Killer Croc react to a group of kids thinking he's super cool because they think he's a dinosaur? They're not scared at all or being rude, they're just in awe. "Fuck Barney, this guy could wreck Barney's shit!"

Killer Croc in the Park

So. I ended up writing a short fic.

Tw: ableism, not particularly dark but unfortunately related directly to his appearance, implication of past drug addiction/abuse

When Killer Croc got to the park that day, he was already in a terrible mental space. He got released from Arkham on rehabilitation. Again. And again he found the outside world just as hostile as before to anyone that didn't fit their mold. Another job interview that ended before he could even get a word out.

Maybe he should try going back to sideshow gigs. The wrestling paid alright. It was that or stealing shit- not that he thought himself suddenly above it. But he's not fucking crazy like they say.

He knows the consequences of what will happen if he goes down that road again. The only time he seems to feel any kind of peace anymore is at the park. He can sit and no one bugs him. It's peaceful. He can watch the ducks.

What he didn't realize is that today he sat closer to a playground in the park than he normally would have. The moment this becomes apparent is when he sees a small girl running in front of him and then eating shit into the dirt and rocks. Before he can really stop himself, he's grabbing her up by the scruff of her shirt with his talons and setting her down on her feet.

As he speaks, the hint of a creole accent slips through, "You better watch it. Could get hurt." His voice is graveled and low- the result of teen smoking combined with his condition wreaking havoc on his vocal folds.

When her eyes open wide, he prepares himself for the screaming. That he's a monster. Scary. There's been many times he's made children cry just by his appearance. Got used to it when... that all started.

Instead of a frightened shriek, it's one of delight, "Are you a dinosaur?!"

He pauses. What. There's a moment he wants to tell her to fuck off. To scram.

He hesitates for a moment before clearing his rumbling throat, "Kid, you really think I'm a dinosaur?"

She nods, "Well- not one I've ever seen. And I've seen a LOT- my mom takes me to the museum a lot and- oh! OH! Hold on-! Don't go, okay?" She speaks so quickly he can't even get another word in edgewise. Then she's running off.

He figures she's just hyperactive until he sees a mob of small humans rushing towards him. Oh fuck, there's more of them. In an instant, the children surround him, staring. After the day he's had, he doesn't want to feel like he's on display. He's ready to stomp off when the little girl steps forward and speaks to the others, "I told you! This is my new friend, isn't he cool?"

"Is he a dinosaur?! Like... like Barney...?" A shy little boy asks.

Another boy crows, "Fuck Barney, he could wreck Barney's shit!"

Croc almost growls, "Watch your fff- frickin' mouth! Outta wash your mouth out with soap!" He points a talon and the cursing boy wilts.

"Sorry..." the kid looks nervous and now he feels bad.

"Don't be sorry," he says, "Just watch it. Too many... You're too little." He feels weird scolding children. It's not something he's done since he scolded younger cousins when he still lived nearby.

Another child in the group chirps, "What's your name?"

He almost answers his criminal name. Almost. It's what most know him as now. Yet as all these young faces look him he can't help but mumble, "...Waylon."

The girl is sitting next to him, "I knew that! My friend, Waylon."

He can't help but laugh, "Oh, yeah? Why don't I know your name, then?"

"Ella. I just forgot to tell you." She shrugs, "'Sides it was WAY more important to show you my other friends."

"Oh." He snorts, "What, you guys all like dinosaurs?" His grin is sharp and toothy. It doesn't quite look right with his lack of "lips." He can see one of the other kids looks nervous.

He stops smiling.

"Uhh um..." Ella seems to think, "Not Susie, Ethan or... Bobby. But they're not going to be mean to a new friend."

"Haven't your parents ever told you not to talk to strangers?" He finally asks.

"Yeah but that's like. Creepy people." One of the other kids is almost laughing at him, "You're not creepy people. You'd eat creepy people!"

He looks off to the side. They have no idea that he's actually tasted human flesh. Definitely not something they ever need to know, actually. Not exactly something he's proud of.

But he grins again, "Right I would. Especially if they try to hurt kids." That gets them excited.

"I bet I could fit my whole head in your mouth!" Another kid announces, "That's SO COOL!"

Before he knows it, he has several children hanging off his arms as he carries them around. Being above 7ft tall he can definitely get them high up off the ground. Swinging them lightly and safely. A couple of the more shy ones he lets them touch his ridges and claws. He's not surprised that several of the parents look over and seem frighted. Ushering their own children away. Yet none of these little beasts. It's only after about an hour and they're all laying in the sun talking that they start to get called to leave. One by one, they all laugh and tell him goodbye- that they'll see him soon!

Its just him and Ella now.

"Where's your mom?"

"Oh. She's right over there. Watching." The little girl points to a nearby tree where a woman sits on a bench, reading. She waves as the pair look over.

He hums, "How come she ain't scared? None of your parents..." he shrugs.

The question seems to confuse the girl, "Why would they be scared...? Oh. 'Cause they might be scared of dinosaurs, huh? That's for babies." She squints at the sun. She looks up. Croc looks up. Ella's mother is approaching.

"Hey, squirt." She smiles, "Having fun? I hope you haven't been bugging this nice man."

The little girl immediately goes into a ramble about all the things she did with her new friend and obviously she's not bugging him. Croc gets up off the ground and stares down at them both. Awkward. Why is this woman not acting the way others do?

The moment her daughter stops, the woman turns to him, "Nice to meet you, I'm Lenore." She reaches her hand out for him to shake.

He looks at her hand nervously, "I don't uh... I don't shake hands. I'm Waylon." He shows his claws and she takes back her hand.

"Sorry. Thank you so much for humoring the kids. They're a handful." She laughs and tilts her head.

"Nah, no- it's... it's no problem." He says softly. He looks around. When was the last time he had a pleasant conversation with someone where they just treated him like a normal person?

Too long.

He finally broaches the subject, "You all seem. Pretty okay with... with a freak playing with your kids."

Her brows move to sympathy and she shakes her head, "You're not- oh, please don't think that. Look. The truth is, it's a bunch of us parents that regularly bring our kids to the park. At first, yeah, we were kind of nervous when we first saw you." She shrugs and he winces.

But then she continues, "Derrick, he works in IT, Tim's dad, he did research that you were... rehabilitated. And some people were still weird about it... but then we noticed something."

He waits with baited breath, "What did you notice? Did I do something?"

Finally, Lenore shrugs, "It's not something you did. It's Gotham. And what we noticed is that suddenly- the park was way safer once you started hanging out. I mean. At least one of us would have something stolen, like, once a month. Creeps, super villains. Maybe it wasn't your intention, but hey. None of us are going to complain."

"And uh... the kids?" He motions to Ella who is already running and buzzing around them.

"Oh, she..." the woman is trying to think of a way to say it without offending him.

He gets it, "I look like a dinosaur. They like dinosaurs."

"She's crazy about them right now." She says, apologetic, "Just obsessed. And you know, we took all of them to the natural history museum so right now that's all they want to talk about- I'm... really sorry if they offended you."

It makes him smile, "It's not the worst thing I've been called. They're sweet kids."

Her smile in return is sweet, "Thank you. There's a lot of different people in the world. They need to know that."

"Yeah... yeah, there are." There's a moment he thinks briefly that if more parents were like these ones, maybe growing up wouldn't have been so bad for him. He's not going to say that, but the thought is there.

After a moment of silence, she clears her throat, "So hey. Waylon. Did you know that the uh. Playground here and the daycare are owned by the same guy?"

He shrugs, "Not to state the obvious, I'm not exactly a guy who pays attention to that."

"...Right. Well. Long story short, my uncle does. And..." she looks awkward herself, "I don't want to assume anything. But if you were ever looking for a job, I think I could put in a good word."

He scoffs, "As what? Hiding under the beds at naptime to be the bogeyman?"

That makes her laugh, "God, no! As an attendant. Kind of like security but a lot of it you're just watching them. At the actual daycare, on the playground. Ella hangs out there when I'm working and she's not at school..."

It's a strange idea for him. Working with kids? With his face? Jesus, he can't think of a job he'd be less qualified for.

She's quick to wave her hand, "I'm sure you have better offers. I'm probably coming off like some kind of ass- jerk." She's quick to correct herself. As the woman rubs her arm, he sees what he thinks are faint raised scars in the pit of her elbow.

When she notices him looking, she shrugs, "It can be hard raising yourself back up. Second chances are hard. Or third chances, or fourth..."

His eyes grow softer, "I hear that. How long did it take you?"

"She was three when I finally made my chance stick." Lenore smiles, "I know it's different but..."

He puts his hands up, "I'm not judging you, believe me. I uh... thanks... for sharing that. If you don't mind, I think I'd like an interview."

There's another pause between them. Then she laughs, "Do they even make dress shirts your size, big guy?"

He shrugs, "Sure. My tailor works well when I tell him I'll eat him if he makes it too small again." He's laughing and there's a moment she covers her mouth to laugh. Horrible!

Ella steps next to him and grabs one of his giant fingers in her small hand. When she smiles there's a gap from a missing tooth. Yeah. Maybe working with kids wouldn't be so bad.

[memoria-99]

Wizardess Heart: My fiction profiles

Erin Leiado

I wanted to make someone whose personality resembles mine a bit. Wanted to dig more into Leiado's duty as well.

Name: Erin Leiado

Appearance: Silver hair, black eyes

See here

MBTI: INTP

Specialty: Playing the piano, Spellsinging, Controlling people's minds

Class: Day Class Vir Ingeniosus

Roommate: Heidi Alpheus

Alias: Songstress Diva

Alive Relatives: Mother, younger sister, Saella(distinct ancestor), Cerim Leiado(paternal cousin)

In Class: Quiet listener, but tries different way rather than copying the textbook. Often gets pinned on one point and is trapped in that thought. Reads other books when bored, only to get scolded when found out.

Her father was brother of Cerim's father. However, after a certain incident when he nearly lost his daughter, he refused to take the Leiado's duty and cut the ties with the other Leiado family so was eventually killed by the knight ghosts. Since her father passed away early, her mother had to take care of two daughters all by herself. She knows what Cerim does when not taking classes, and her relationship with him is a bit odd. She has a strong repulsion to the duty and feels bad for him. However, ever since her father passing away, she regularly suffers from nightmare, now being the knight ghosts' target. She was born with marvelous spellsinging ability and also good at spellbinding people through songs, particularly because her mother was a siren, who gave up her life as a siren after the marriage. She eventually became the second Songstress Diva after Princess Saella. She looks expressionless, but her eyes lighten up when something catches her interest. Also being a massive bookworm, she spends more than half her time in the library. She seems to know a lot of things that are impossible for her to know in current state. Actually, she was a 'player' of the game set in this world in her previous life, who accidentally died from car accident while playing it. On the verge of her death, she met the so-called Almighty of this world saying "Welcome, honored visitor from the otherworld", then found herself as a young kid of this not-so-blessed family. After a few years later, she met this being again who said sending her soul to this body was a system error. He said he meant to give her a better life, so as a sign of apology he gave his 'bless' to her. It was this so-called bless that protected her from the knight ghosts, otherwise she might have been long dead. But it couldn't completely block the ghost in her dreams and that was the cause of her nightmares.

[karaonasi]

KitKat: Flashback (Prologue)

continued from

Playlist:

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Flashback 5 Years

I was thirteen and it was the night of the Cypress’s annual Summer Soiree. I had gone before, of course. I had gone every year. I had even danced at them--I usually danced at them since, while Lizzy had taken up golf instruction at the club from a young age, I had taken up ballroom dance. I could have just as easily taken up tennis, but with swimming and surfing, I felt I already had enough sport activities and wanted something different. Besides, dance was something my cousin Lee and I could connect over. Dancing and singing.

The difference was that this year my parents were treating us kids more as adults now that we had both hit our teens--Elizabeth by being allowed to stay home alone for the first time, and me being allowed to bring a date. I kinda wondered why she had chosen staying at home rather than taking a date herself. But I guess she just was in that phase where she wanted nothing to do with any of her family. It hurt a little bit. Because while she was often bossy and a bit of a pain, she also was the first one to come to my aid when I fell and skinned my knee or got some other injury from being the active kid that I was. She was, afterall, usually already there on the scene. She was almost like a mini-mom at times, mimicking our own mothers. But when she hit her teens, that changed. She was always out with friends or, if not, was on the phone with them rather than playing with me. And I missed her. I missed our closeness. I guess that’s how Cove and I had gone from friends and playmates to best friends so close that we were almost brothers.

So, when I was told I could bring someone with me to the Soiree, I naturally thought of Cove--not as a date. I didn’t think of him that way. But that was the problem. I didn’t think of anyone that way. I had never had a secret crush, never felt that…something that other kids had talked about, the thing that every movie seemed to have as its central theme.

I had gone down to the beach to find Cove, intending to ask him as a friend. But when I just mentioned that I was going to a fancy event at our country club, the crinkle of his nose in disgust and the look of pity on his face told me all I needed. I should have figured. ‘Fancy’ had never been Cove’s thing. And when I thought about it later, the guy probably would have gone to support me if I had asked, but he would have been miserable. Nah. It was better for me to go alone.

So that's how I ended up there at the edge of the dancefloor. I scanned the edges of the crowd for a partner. It wasn’t like I had ever been shy. So I never really lacked a partner if I wanted one. Often I found a girl either from school or from dance classes here at the club. Always a girl though. Not because I found myself particularly attracted to girls. I didn’t find myself attracted to anybody (well, except perhaps having noticed that both Cliff and Kyra had rather nice…um…chests--not that I would ever have admitted that to Cove). But because I had never quite felt up to facing the possible scrutiny if I chose a partner that was a boy. That’s why I was surprised when the tap on my shoulder turned out to be a boy. A boy with deep brown eyes. He was around my height, but his expression and the way he carried himself marked him as being older, more mature than me.

“Are you planning on dancing?” he asked. His voice was deep for our age and pleasing. Smooth. Soothing. And yet hearing the low purring quality of it made me feel anything but relaxed. Instead, I found this…exciting somehow…

I guess it was that unexplainable excitement that led me to crack a joke, my go-to move when feeling a little out of sorts. “Actually, I was planning a bank robbery. Looks like I got the address mixed up. Dancing might be an okay second choice.” What was I saying? What if the boy didn’t like the joke and decided to take back the offer? My chest clenched slightly at the prospect.

But the boy smiled instead and nodded. “We should dance then. It’s perfect timing, a new song is just about to start.”

My heart pounded in my chest. This boy stood there so calmly, so easily, asking another boy to dance in front of all these people. Not caring what they thought or if they might judge him for it. He was so…brave! I felt a surge of admiration for this older boy, my smile growing visibly brighter, my violet eyes shining at him. Those soft brown eyes met mine and, with an elegant roll of his wrist, he held his hand out to me. I took it without question, unable to look away from his confident gaze.

I have a tendency of getting a bit hyper when I feel particularly happy or excited. I had even been tested for ADHD at one point due to this tendency, though with my ability to focus and good grades I didn’t qualify for a diagnosis. But in this moment it took a great deal of focus for me to keep my excess energy under control. Because I wasn’t merely happy, I was ecstatic! Meanwhile, my partner wore a casual smile. He probably did this all the time. And yet I hadn’t seen him dancing with anyone earlier. I had never seen him at any previous functions at the club either. So I couldn’t help but feel a little pleased by having been singled out by him.

Together, we walked the few paces to the dance floor, hand-in-hand. I had the strangest sensation running from the warm hand in mine--as if electricity zinged up and down my whole arm…charging my entire body with electrical energy. I looked down at our combined hands in confusion. This was new. I had held a lot of peoples’ hands--family, Cove, friends. It had never felt like this. And though I felt a little nervous from these strange sensations, the boy was steady and sure next to me, lending me stability. I let out a breath of relief when he struck a stance, the proper form for leading a foxtrot. Good. That answered the question of who would lead, taking the burden of that awkward question off of my shoulders. I was proficient at following as well as leading, and honestly it was probably for the best that I wouldn’t be responsible for the lead with all these strange and unfamiliar sensations running through my body and mind. His free hand went around my waist and he confidently guided my body into position. He obviously wasn’t one of those kids whose parents had enrolled in last-minute classes before a big event such as this. From his form and confidence, he had taken lessons for some time--like I had myself.

The first notes of the new song pulled me from my thoughts and my partner began to lead me. Now it wasn’t only the hand in his that tingled, but the zinging energy also radiated from where he touched my waist and along the small of my back as well. I had to stifle a small gasp of surprise as the feeling spread further along my body where I definitely had never felt with another person before, and I could feel my cheeks prickle with heat. As we started moving to the music, the familiar rhythm of dancing helped to overcome the less familiar sensations. Muscle memory took over my movements under his guidance. His eyes lit up as he ascertained my skill and ability to match him. They were…so pretty…deep brown but as the lights caught them, I could see that the brown was closer to a deep dark honey, giving off amber highlights in certain lights. Wow. I was a bit disappointed when the boy’s eyes closed in simple enjoyment of the dance, cutting them off from view. But then I could really look at him. HIs skin was so pale, so delicate--only enhanced by the ebony of his hair. Just as delicate were his features. His nose was almost elfin with a small swoop at the tip, so different from the blunted curving under tip of my own nose. And his lips…they were just as delicate…and looked so soft…so…touchable. I bit at my lower lip and tore my gaze away, grateful for my hands being otherwise occupied so I couldn’t succumb to the unfamiliar impulse. I heard a low chuckle. Great. Did he catch me staring at him? I hoped he didn’t think I was some sort of weirdo. I braved a peek at him under my lashes to see the same lop-sided smile as before, only softer, those brown eyes warm and inviting.

I couldn’t help but wonder why, of all the teens here, he had picked me. Could he tell somehow that I had experience in dance? Or was it simply that I had very obviously been looking for a partner? Or was it completely random on his part? There was no way to really know, and I wasn’t about to ask.

Instead of dwelling upon the question, I simply chose to enjoy the dance. The style of dance meant that our bodies were close. My usual dance partners were people I knew. But he was a stranger--a stranger who was…exciting… Brave and confident, yet with a delicate beauty, topped by being an excellent dancer. I had never in my life met someone like him--met someone that made my mind so…aware, my heart race, my body tingle everywhere, and…that made me…interested in ways that were completely foreign to me up to this point in my life. I had never experienced a moment so…perfect and I wished the song would never end. It was odd. I didn’t even know his name, but I felt like he had changed something in me forever…

All too soon, the song came to an end. “Oh…” I let out with unveiled disappointment. I looked to his beautiful face with a hopeful raise of my brows, a silent request for another dance. But his hands released mine and he politely took a step back. As he did so, I noticed a cute little birthmark on the right side of his neck.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” he said, his smile so bright it made his lovely face seem to light from within. I was about to open my mouth to reply when he continued. “You have nice legs.”

That was not something I expected. I blinked at him in confusion, then looked down at the items in question. But…I was wearing pants. How did he know? When I looked up again, he had drifted away.

“Wait!” I called out, hoping to at least get his name. But the music had started again and the boy didn’t look back. Then he disappeared into the crowded dance floor. Wait! I tried to navigate around the crowd myself. I was tall for my age, but still couldn’t see over the taller adults. There was no sight of him. And despite my gaze searching for him the rest of the evening, I didn’t see a glimpse of him. Nor did I at the next function. Or the one that followed that. Or the one after that.

I never saw him again at all.

Until this moment--

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To be continued: Present Time