family fork

fatimagic  asked:

also, and apologies if this sounds stupid, but has inbreeding been said to explicitly be a factor in targaryen madness? because if this were the the real world (i.e. with no ~dragon magic), there is no way the targ line would have lasted as long as it did.

Oh, it doesn’t sound stupid at all, no worries. The “madness” of Targaryens is generally said to “run in their blood”, and their practice of incest is not necessarily blamed for it. It was King Jaehaerys II, after all, who married his sister and forced his children Aerys and Rhaella to marry each other, who said that “madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.” So he evidently believed that madness was possible in every Targaryen, inbred or not.

And Jaehaerys’s uncle Aerion, who was the descendant of two successive exogamous marriages (to a Martell and a Dayne) and yet was still mad and cruel, would seem to be the proof there. (Especially since Aerion’s siblings all seemed to be fine… well, except for one brother, but he was cursed with prophetic dreams so he probably doesn’t count.) Also Aerys – the Mad King himself – though he was a child of a brother-sister marriage, his parents were the descendants of three successive exogamous marriages (Martell, Dayne, Blackwood) and so were not more heavily inbred than anyone else in Westeros. (Joffrey, whose grandparents were first cousins, was more inbred than Aerys.)

However, there were other opinions as well. Even though the practice of incest among the Targaryens was more-or-less accepted by Westeros, after Robert’s Rebellion you could sometimes hear people saying that the gods hate incest and therefore destroyed them. King Aegon V, who was raised among the smallfolk as the hedge knight Duncan the Tall’s squire “Egg”, was convinced that the Targaryen tradition of incestuous marriage “did more harm than good.” Though whether he was concerned with inbreeding and madness, or the potential psychological harm involved in such marriages (power imbalance, dysfunctional relationships), we don’t yet know.

Nevertheless, if you do a search of the books for “incest” and “madness”, there is nothing found (or any similar searches), so it seems that none of the actual characters in the story have drawn a connection between Targaryen inbreeding and the tendency to madness that appears in their line. We the readers may understand that, yes, but it’s not certain that it’s a known factor in the books. They look at madness as just a Targaryen thing, not necessarily a Targaryen incest thing.

As for the real world… oh, no, you don’t even know. Take a look at the Hapsburg family tree some time, particularly that of the ancestors of Charles II of Spain – but the Hapsburgs lasted six centuries. The Ptolemaic Dynasty of Egypt lasted for nearly 300 years, and they frequently married brother-sister or uncle-niece. (The “beautiful” Cleopatra had married her brothers before her relationships with Julius Caesar and Mark Antony.) The Ptolemies are actually GRRM’s direct inspiration for the incestuous practice of the Targaryens, as they did so to keep their royal (Macedonian, not Egyptian) blood “pure”. And it wasn’t just the Ptolemies, multiple Egyptian dynasties were known to have had incestuous marriages as well as inbred. (See Ankhesenamun, sister-wife of King Tut, for example.)

I should leave you with GRRM’s words:

The Targaryens have heavily interbred, like the Ptolemys of Egypt. As any horse or dog breeder can tell you, interbreeding accentuates both flaws and virtues, and pushes a lineage toward the extremes. Also, there’s sometimes a fine line between madness and greatness. Daeron I, the boy king who led a war of conquest, and even the saintly Baelor I could also be considered “mad,” if seen in a different light.

Hope that helps!


I would like to point something out that I’m not sure anyone is talking about.

The obstacle course Ian is using while Mickey is shooting at random targets above him? That obstacle course wasn’t just THERE, guys. You know what that means? That means that Ian and Mickey found this place (probably Mickey knew about it first or they discovered it together. I’m assuming this because we never saw Ian here before and Mickey made himself at home here after what happens in 3x666) and MADE it into a shared space where they can each just hang out and do whatever they want. Mickey can shoot his gun to let off some steam and Ian can train for ROTC with an obstacle course they probably built together. They’d have a place to hang out without worrying about getting caught (you know, since the Kash and Grab CLEARLY wasn’t going to work anymore because each time they got caught up to that point, it was at the store). BUT it’s super important that we take notice that they are not just either fucking or working together. They spend platonic time together just hanging out. They are taking interest in each others interests and I really just CAN’T stress that enough to people who argue Mickey is toxic for Ian or that the relationship was bad in general. They were not just fuck buddies. They were friends, best friends.

So in the first scene Mickey is in, we see Ian proposing Mickey help him rob Ned’s house. 

Mickey seems disinterested in the conversation, but that’s likely due to Ned being mentioned and I imagine Mickey doesn’t really want to hear about him. I know I certainly wouldn’t. 

Something that may have concerned some people was when Mickey shot beside Ian while he was on the ground, but I’d like to point out something. We’ve seen this kid handling guns basically since we met him. He knows what he’s doing and I assume is an excellent shot. We see him shooting at targets all of the time. His family is swimming in guns. Plus if I want to be cold (and possibly get some hate) Ian is wanting to go into the army… May as well get used to bullets getting pretty damn close.

There wasn’t any malice behind it, though it is a shocking move to say the VERY least.

I love also how Ian is totally cool with the Milkoviches. He’s best friends with Mandy, in love with Mickey, and accepts basically everyone in Mickey’s circle.

Notice how he’s trying to make this a throw-away comment. Trying to act like he isn’t emotionally invested in why Ian likes Ned or hangs out with Ned. He’s trying (and failing) to hide his mounting jealousy.

I think Mickey shoots at these reasons for a couple of reasons. 1. It’s bullshit. Though I’m sure Ian does like being treated to stuff, Mickey also knows that this isn’t why Ian likes him or is pretending to like him. Those shots are his way of calling bullshit but in a way that won’t reveal how irritating this actually is. And 2. Because no matter the circumstances, Mickey will never be able to give Ian (materialistically) what Ned can and I think deep down that bothers him.

You can see that vulnerability in his eyes even when he’s trying to hard to act unbothered and casual, he can’t completely hide that Ian’s initial answer bugs him. He’s poor and even in season 4 when he has moments of wealth from the Rub N Tug, they are fleeting and not to the level he probably wishes he had. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

^THIS is the root of Ian’s problem with where he and Mickey are at and Mickey recognizes that as the truth.

And while he understands Ian’s impatience, he’s also really really scared to get emotionally attached. Nothing good in his life lasts forever, each time he and Ian find some semblance of happiness together, it gets fucked up so I can understand why Mickey would be afraid of building a connection (internalized homophobia aside!) But then there’s also a determination, and I’ve talked about it before. Almost like he’s wrestling with himself a bit. Like, okay I’ll still not admit I’m gay… But I’m losing him to this old guy and while I can’t buy him shit, I can maybe give him this? It’s at least worth a try, right?

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Don’t Go Where The Upir’s Play

I’m Sorry It’s Another Roman Fic But I Am Team Leter <3

Being best friends with Letha Godfrey came with so pros and cons, while she and her family had happily forked out on lavish gifts for you since you’d first met Letha in nursery school, cooked your meals and helped you study, you still had to put up with the infuriating Roman.

When your parents passed the Godfrey’s won custody of you, but that just meant that Roman’s odd possessiveness of Letha, was simply passed onto you to. Obviously you were incredibly grateful but Olivia and Roman were still dark figures in your life that silently loomed over you.


“Hey (Y/N).” Letha hummed as she skipped into the room, her hand running over her slightly swollen belly.

“Morning Letha, you want French toast… it’s better than skipping breakfast?” You hummed wiggling the frying pan in your hand towards her.

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Because the fauna and flora are different, it follows that food is different. Humans are still more or less humans though and still like their sugary salty and umami tastes, so the culinary conclusions they draw are similar but made out of different stuff. For example, Verdamt has very American approach to food with their love of heavy grease and salt, but because they don’t have cows to make their burgers, they have to use a meat they do have… like dragon.

“Dragon” was once used to refer to a varied category of animals, but presently its main association is the cattle analog widely farmed in Tartra. (Their larger wilder relatives, closer to the kind of creature you might dub a “dragon”, are rarely seen and their range on the continent has shrunk to the point where they’re all but extinct.) They’re highly omnivorous and can grow large and fat on just about any food source as long as you have enough of it—a good meat and milk source if you’re keen on putting up with the danger of herding a bunch of massive lobster rhinos. Smaller creatures in the dragon category called cockatrices similarly fill a poultry niche.

(side note: most non-Verdamt countries domesticated things a little more… easy to domesticate. Verdamt just looked at all the towering lumbering dragons in their territory and was like “h/o lemme get my fork.” Sam’s family are also dragon farmers by trade and tradition…)

However, dragon meat is only available in places where they’re actively being farmed or places with enough money to be worth importing to. Cockatrices are easier to keep and therefore more accessible, but less viable/efficient as a staple protein source. So, even though farming is a thing there’s still a lot of supplementary hunting for edible bushmeat.

Luckily, almost everything on the planet is hardy so the farming of fruit and veggies and fungi doesn’t have so many hurdles. Genuine food scarcity is mostly a problem in settlements without an established farming or trading presence. Man-made food scarcity still exists as it does in the real world, though…

Processed food is a big thing too, VERY big. It’s much more widely available and accessible than anything fresh. Food expectations are kind of low because of it, and there are some pretty weird and unpleasant social ideas about food and under what circumstances do you deserve to eat a real food and not some shitty tasting astronaut nutrient bar… not that Sam gives a fuck she’ll just eat an entire dragon.

(I wanted to draw more of the actual FOOD instead of just the livestock but I’m running out of the time I allot myself for each of these posts… trust me though you’ll see it later because I do like drawing food)

hummingbird heartbeat - pt32

They slept in the next morning, and when Bitty woke up, he was surprised to see that it was nearing noon. The heavy curtains in Kent’s room kept both light and heat at bay, despite the hot sunshine in Las Vegas. Kent was still curled up in bed, and he barely stirred when Bitty slipped out to go to the bathroom.

Down in the kitchen, Bitty took out things for coffee, setting Kent’s Hockey Hall of Fame mug on the counter next to a chipped Harry Potter one. After the boiled water sat for a minute, he poured it over the coffee grounds and left it to sit with a timer. Bitty wandered back into the living room and took a moment to stand by the back doors, staring out at the yard. The sun was bright over Kent’s meticulously arranged succulent and cactus garden.

Lord, what a mess.

He hadn’t checked in with Jack again. Staring out at the only lavender succulent in Kent’s whole garden, Bitty sighed a little. He was probably fine. Right? Jack would be fine. And he probably didn’t really want Bitty to check on him.

He startled when Kent slid an arm around his waist. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of Bitty’s neck. “You look contemplative.”

“Lord, I didn’t know you were up!” Bitty relaxed a little, letting out a soft breath.

Kent laughed a little, voice still rough from sleep. “You weren’t in bed. I woke up.”

“Good morning, honey,” Bitty said, leaning back against Kent’s bare chest. He was warm.

“Well, kind of,” Kent said. He kissed Bitty’s shoulder before pulling away to answer the kitchen timer. When he returned, he handed Bitty the Harry Potter mug, now full of steaming coffee.

“Did you sleep okay?” Bitty asked.

“Like the dead,” said Kent. Retrieving his own mug of coffee, he took a sip. “Did you?”

“Yes,” Bitty said. “I was really tired, I guess.” He joined Kent at the table, sitting down and wrapping his hands around his mug. “What did you want to do today?”

“The boyfriend tag on YouTube,” Kent said. “Watch trash television. Be with you.” He paused. “I have to go in for a bit, probably as soon as I finish this. Optional skate.” Kent took a long drink of his coffee.

How was it possible that Bitty hadn’t thought of doing the boyfriend tag? “Oh!” He laughed. “Yes! Oh my Lord, I can’t believe we haven’t –”

“– Done it already? I know . That’s why I wanted to do it while you were here.” Kent grinned. “I figure we’ll do mine first, then yours. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “Unless we do mine next time you visit me.”

The corner of Kent’s mouth quirked in a smile. “Okay.” He glanced back at the kitchen. “Fuck, I gotta eat. And get dressed.”

“Eggs?” Bitty asked.

“Whites,” said Kent. “And peppers. And stuff.” He loved to scramble things together in one skillet.

“And meat,” Bitty said.

“I guess,” said Kent.

“You’re too skinny again,” Bitty said. Kent opened his mouth to protest and Bitty shook his head. “I know you lose weight in season, but you need to eat to keep it on. Okay?”

“God,” said Kent, “you sound like Jeff. Fine! Fine. I’ll put sausage in it.”

Bitty leaned over, kissing Kent’s cheek. “Thank you, honey.”

Soon they were both in the kitchen, pop music playing quietly in the background as Bitty chopped vegetables while Kent cooked turkey sausage in a pan. Before sitting down with his plate, Kent glanced at the clock. “Gotta eat fast,” he said.

Bitty put a forkful in his mouth, nodding. “Got it,” he said.

Kent paused. “Um,” he said.

“What is it?” Bitty asked, not looking up from his plate, where he was scooting eggs onto his toast.

“Do you want to come?” Kent asked.

Bitty almost dropped his fork.

“It’s family practice,” Kent said. “So a lot of the guys will bring their kids and stuff…”

Family practice. Everyone who met Bitty would meet him as someone who was, at least, close to Kent. “Yeah,” said Bitty. “If you want me to come, I’d love to.”

It would be his first time meeting the whole team. When they got to the arena, Kent frowned as he parked his car. “Why’d Chris bring the baby so early?” he muttered, opening his car door.

Opening his own door, Bitty saw Christopher Troy holding a small child in one arm, ushering two other children out of an SUV. Kent was already walking over, hands held out as the baby reached for him.

“What’re you doing here?” Kent asked the baby as he took him from Christopher. He pressed a kiss to the child’s forehead before settling him onto one hip. “Hiya, Teddy.”

“Oh, thank god. Bethany’s puking,” Christopher said. “And since both our normal sitters are here, I had to bring the kids early.” He grinned, and Bitty was struck by how very much Christopher looked like Jeff.

Kent laughed a bright, bubbly laugh. Teddy stroked the side of Kent’s face and he turned his head, murmuring something Bitty couldn’t hear. He looked perfect . God, why was Bitty’s stomach all hot? Was he really that affected by the sight of Kent with a baby?


“It’ll be fine,” Christopher said. His car chirped as he hit the button to lock the doors. “C’mon, guys! Go inside! Oliver – put that – don’t pick that up,” he said, lunging for a skinny boy in glasses and a chemistry t-shirt who was reaching for something on the asphalt. “Why don’t you go see if Uncle Jeff’s here already?” Christopher asked.

A girl who looked to be about ten had spotted Bitty, and she was already heading over. “Who’re you?” she asked. She had a different color of glitter nail polish on each nail and Christopher’s same thick, dark hair.

“Juli, I said inside,” Christopher said.

“Eric’s my friend,” said Kent. He glanced at Christopher, who already had a small, smug smile on his face. “Shut up.”

Bitty followed the kids inside, staying a step behind Kent as they walked in. How were they going to manage three little kids and have practice? He chewed on the inside of his mouth as he walked.

They were quite a spectacle, pushing into the dressing room with a diaper bag and sparkly backpack and three small children.

“What, you forget your wife?” asked De los Santos, the backup goalie.

“Mommy’s puking,” said Julianna.

“Gross,” he said. “So we’re stuck with you, eh?” He ruffled Julianna’s hair with a hand, smiling softly.

“I can watch them,” Bitty said, edging just a little closer to Kent. The nervousness in his stomach, tight and cold, was making him nauseated.

“Oh!” Christopher turned to him. “Are you sure?”

“I love kids,” he said. They’d be a great distraction.

“Who is –”

“This is my friend, Eric,” Kent said, shifting Teddy on his hip. “He plays college hockey. And he made that peanut butter pie I brought you guys a while back.”

“Y’all can call me Bitty.” Bitty smiled. “All my friends do.”

“Oh, fuck,” said Jeeves, “that pie was the best thing ever.”

Language !” Christopher turned to Bitty. “It was good, though. Did you bring another one?”

“I didn’t know I needed to bring pie,” Bitty said.

“Oh, cool.” One of the Aces rookies was eyeing Bitty through narrowed eyes. “Where do you play?”

“Samwell,” said Bitty.

“Parse finally brought someone to family skate? That’s wild,” said Jeeves, pushing past Christopher. “Dude, why are your progeny here?”

“Bethany’s sick,” Christopher said.

“I got this,” said Bitty. “Y’all go ahead and get ready.” He glanced at Kent. “Give him to me, yeah?”

Kent was a little hesitant to release Teddy, but after a moment he relented. “He pulls hair,” he said.

“That’s okay,” said Bitty, settling Teddy onto his hip as a tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt. He glanced at Julianna. “Y’all wanna go put on some skates and show me some moves? I bet you’re faster than your dad.”

“You should ask Eric for moves,” Kent said, already lacing up a skate. “He used to be a figure skater.”

Really ?” Julianna whipped around, staring at Bitty.

“Really,” he said, feeling warmer already.

“Why don’t you help me watch tape, Ollie?” Jeff had entered the locker room, dropping his bag down beside Kent with practiced ease.

“Okay,” Oliver said. “I’ll tell you where you messed up.”

“You really are your father’s son, you know that?” Jeff ruffled Oliver’s hair. “C’mon, then.”

They ended up with Bitty on one end of the ice, holding Teddy, while Julianna showed him things she’d learned and begged for him to show her spins. The Aces were mostly down on the other end, working on things individually or in pairs. Kent seemed to be focusing on endurance while Papadakis was doing… something… with De los Santos. It involved a lot of laughing. Most of the guys Bitty hadn’t met were doing off-ice things like watching tape with Jeff or working with trainers. It wasn’t much different from Samwell’s practices.

Sara waved at him when she arrived. Bitty had Juliana hold Teddy while he showed her the most basic spin he could remember. It felt good to be on the ice, even just fooling around with kids. He caught Kent looking at him a few times, and he put a little extra oomph into the next jump he demonstrated. For Julianna, of course.

Aces family day, it seemed, often involved a barbecue. Practice wrapped up early as family members began to arrive, filtering in a few at a time. Bitty found himself wrapped up in a conversation about the merits of pie versus cobbler with Coach Scott’s wife before he knew what was happening, and the time flew by. Teddy babbled at his side, a bright spot in every conversation. Kent introduced him to everyone, and while Bitty recognized a few of the suspicious looks he got from some of the players, everyone seemed happy that Kent had finally brought someone. Jeff avoided Bitty, taking care never to be in the same group conversation with him and finding convenient excuses to leave when Bitty approached.

He’d have to do something about that.

When he caught Oliver yawning, Christopher began to gather up his children. “We gotta go, guys,” he said. “Your mom’s lonely.”

“Aww, but I wanted to skate with Bitty some more,” said Julianna.

“I’m sure Bitty will come back,” Christopher said. All the same, he let Bitty help him out to the car with Teddy. Once he’d settled Teddy into his car seat, Bitty attempted to take a step back, stopping when he realized Teddy hadn’t turned him loose yet.

“Thanks for watching them today,” said Christopher. “It was cool of you. Teddy can be a handful.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Bitty said, carefully detaching Teddy’s arms from his neck. “They’re adorable.”

“Bye, Pie!” said Teddy, waving. He was precious.

“Bye, Teddy,” Bitty said, wiggling his fingers.

They both showered when they got back to Kent’s house, Bitty taking the guest bathroom while Kent used his. When he stepped inside, Bitty saw a retainer sitting in a little case by the sink next to an electric toothbrush. The guest bathroom was quite different from Kent’s – less luxurious, more efficient. The soap in the shower was plain and, from the smell of it, hypoallergenic. Even the shampoo was basic, though it was at least pleasantly tingly on the scalp. When he stepped out, Bitty glanced at the toothbrush again, thinking.

Kent didn’t have a retainer.

He returned to Kent’s bedroom with damp hair, flopping onto the bed while he waited for Kent to get dressed. “What now?” Bitty asked.

“Boyfriend tag,” said Kent. He tugged a sweater on over his head. “And then whatever you want.”

Bitty sat up, grinning at Kent. “Perfect.”

Kent set pillows down on the floor in front of the bed. They both sat down, Kent draping his arm over Bitty’s shoulders as they settled in to film. He’d edit the video later to make sure it stayed anonymous enough, but Kent usually set his camera up in such a way that he didn’t have to do that much to his videos to achieve that. Bitty cleared his throat.

“Is it on?”

“Yeah. Ready?” Kent gripped his mug of tea. He was wearing a soft wine colored sweater, and it looked pretty next to Bitty’s light blue.

“Okay!” Bitty took a breath and snuggled closer. “Go.”

“All right,” Kent said, looking at the camera, “Okay! So, I’m here with my boyfriend –” he gestured to Bitty.

“Hey, y’all!” Bitty waved. “Oh – can the camera see my hands?” He hooked his thumbs together, wiggling his fingers. “Hm?”

“Yeah, it can. I’m gonna – what are you doing, is that a shadow puppet?”

“Yeah, look, see –” Bitty laughed, holding his hands out to the side. A butterfly shaped shadow fluttered on the mattress behind them.

“Oh my god. Anyway! I’m here! With my boyfriend –” Kent elbowed Bitty. “And we’re going to do the boyfriend tag!”

“We are,” Bitty said. “Big time. Boyfriend tag. Doing it.”

“I know a bunch of you guys have been asking me to do this for a while now, and we decided we’d finally take the time to go ahead, because…”

“Because we’re boys!” Bitty laughed. He sipped from his mug of tea, leaning back against the pillows.

“Yes,” said Kent, “we are boys. And we’re friends. So. Okay. Fine.” He held up his phone, looking at the question list before glancing at Bitty. “Where was I born?”

“Tonawanda, New York!” Bitty laughed. “At least, I think so. Because that’s where you grew up, right? So – yeah. Tonawanda.” He glanced at Kent, whose face was placid. “No?”

“Yes,” Kent laughed. “Tonawanda. I was born there and I grew up there, too.”

“Next question!” Bitty said, bumping Kent’s shoulder with his.

“All right.” Kent glanced at him. “When’s my birthday?”

“Fourth of July,” Bitty said. Looking at the camera, he grinned. “Easy.”

“Yes,” Kent said. “And your birthday is May fifth.”

“Yes, it is,” Bitty said. They both laughed.

Kent looked down at his phone again, scanning the list of questions. “Where did we meet?”

“On here,” Bitty said. “We met on YouTube.”

“Yeah,” Kent said, “and you messaged me first.”

“Well, y’know, you seemed like you could use a friend and –”

“– And you had a crush on me, right?”

Bitty laughed, feeling his neck heat with a blush. “Yeah, and I had a crush on you. Kind of.”

“Aw, babe. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Shut up!” Bitty swatted at Kent’s arm. “We’re adorable.”

“We so are.” Kent looked at his phone. “Okay. What kind of television shows do I watch?”

“Well,” Bitty said, “Sweetie, as you can tell by all the songs he covers, is a throwback hoe, so he likes old stuff.” He paused. “ The Golden Girls . And, like, Darkwing Duck .”

“Yes!” Kent laughed. “ The Golden Girls is the best!” He looked at Bitty’s face. “Oh, c’mon. You know you love it. I heard you say you liked Blanche best.”

“Lord,” said Bitty, rolling his eyes. “You think that just because she’s Southern, and – just move on!”

Kent scrolled through the list while Bitty sipped tea. “Ooh, okay. Who said I love you first?”

“I did,” Bitty said, rubbing Kent’s thigh. “But I think you almost did, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. I was just – you know, nervous.” He paused. “You know, I’ve only had like, one boyfriend before you, and I just…”

“He didn’t want to say it first,” Bitty said. “Huh?” He pressed a kiss to Kent’s cheek. “But there were a lot of times where you were like, ‘hey babe?’ and I’d be all ‘what’ and you’d just say something like ‘never mind’ or ‘have a good night’ or something.”

“I did do that,” Kent admitted, playing with a bit of Bitty’s hair.

They went through questions about their first date and their first kiss and some random questions about Kent’s favorite sandwich and how many covers he kept on the bed. When he got to questions that would be too revealing, Kent skipped over them. He didn’t ask any questions that would be answered with something related to hockey. “Where’s my family from?”

“Your mom is from Marseilles,” Bitty said. “France. Right?”

“Right,” Kent said. “My grandmother still lives there. I’ll take you some time, but you’re gonna have to work way harder on your French, because my grandmother won’t speak English to you. Okay, okay.” Kent looked at the list. “Uh – what’s my weirdest habit?”

“Oh Lord,” Bitty said. “You’re a left-to-right dresser.”


“Yeah, you –” He gestured at his left thigh. “You put all your clothes on left side first. Like, always .”

“Huh. I didn’t know I did that,” Kent said. He was looking down at his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You know what? I guess I do.”

“Yeah, and you won’t let me sleep on the right side of the bed, either,” Bitty said.

“Okay, okay – next question!” Kent laughed. “Oh, man. All right. What color are my eyes?”

That was such an unfair question. “Your eyes change color all the time, honey,” Bitty said. “How am I supposed to answer this?”

“What does it say on my driver’s license?”

“How am I supposed to know?” He paused. “Hazel, I think.”

“Yeah, it is. I don’t think it’s right, but that’s what they put on there. Anyways, how do I take my coffee?” Kent asked.

“With enough milk to make it khaki,” Bitty said. “Unless you’re going to Starbucks and then I think you order some kind of stupid Americano thing that tastes like dirt.”

Kent scooted a little closer, settling his arm around Bitty again, fingers brushing the back of Bitty’s neck. “Am I a morning person or a –”

“No,” Bitty said, “you just force yourself to get up anyways.”

“And do I like the mountains or the beach better?”

“The mountains,” Bitty said. “You love the mountains.”

“Mmhmm.” Kent leaned closer. “Who’s my favorite YouTuber?”

Bitty grinned. “Me,” he said, and then Kent kissed him. “Mm – honey, you’re gonna get our faces on here –”

Kent wound his arms around Bitty’s waist. “I’ll edit it,” he said, one hand already sliding under the hem of Bitty’s sweater.

They ended up in the bed, clothes in a pile on the floor. As Kent straddled Bitty’s lap, cupping his face gently with both hands, Bitty swallowed. Kent pressed soft kisses to his forehead, pausing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Bitty said. “I just – I think I just –” Why was he crying? His breath hitched.

“Oh, Eric.” Kent brushed a tear away with his thumb.

“I think I thought you wouldn’t want – this,” Bitty said. “After everything.” After Jack.

“I love you,” Kent said, “and this is everything I want.”

Bitty tangled his fingers into Kent’s hair, pulling him down into a hard kiss.

Kent was going to have to edit a lot out of that video.

That evening they cooked dinner together, both of them comfortable in Kent’s kitchen. His part of the meal finished, Bitty leaned against the counter, just watching as Kent peeled and sectioned lemons for a salad with a painful amount of precision. God, what if he’d messed this up? He could’ve made that night the last time he ever saw Kent. It was so –

“I can feel you looking at me,” Kent said.

“I like looking at you,” said Bitty.

Kent laughed.

“I do,” Bitty said. “Honey. I’m really so–”

“No,” Kent said, finally looking up. “Don’t. We’re both responsible for that.”

Me more than you . “But –”

“I said I’d do it,” Kent said. “You didn’t make me say that. All right?”

“Yes. That’s true. But I –”

“Do you wanna be with me?” Kent asked.

“Yes,” Bitty said. I want to make a life with you.

“Good. Because I wanna be with you.” Kent dumped his tiny lemon wedges into a bowl. He made it sound so simple. “So that’s settled, then.” He handed Bitty the bowl of salad. “Put this on the table.”

“Very well, Mr. Parson,” Bitty said, turning to walk away.

Kent made it sound so simple, and as he set the salad bowl on the table, it occurred to Bitty that maybe it was . Maybe love was a choice, consciously made. Maybe it wasn’t about always doing the right thing, about not making mistakes, about knowing every single thing your partner needed or wanted. Bitty had always thought of loving someone being like a peaceful river, but to Kent it was the ocean, storms and all.

Bitty had always loved the ocean.

After dinner, they curled up on the sofa together, Bitty’s back pressed up against Kent’s chest. They were both full and lazy, sprawled over the cushions with Kit purring above their heads. The swish of her tail stirred Bitty’s hair every so often, just enough to remind him that she was there.

“I think I’m gonna tell my friends,” Bitty said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Oh,” said Kent. “I guess I thought they already knew.”

“I told Shitty.” Bitty twisted a little. “It’s not – I don’t know why I didn’t tell the rest of them. It’s not you, it’s –”

“It’s fine.” Kent pressed a kiss into Bitty’s hair. “Tell who you want to tell when you want to tell them.” He leaned his chin on Bitty’s shoulder as they both fell silent, attention returning to the television.

When Kent got up to get a glass a water, Bitty scooted around on the sofa, rearranging so that Kit could climb into his lap. He stroked a hand over her soft fur, thinking.

“Aw,” Kent said, returning with his glass. “You guys are so cute.” He settled back onto the sofa, slinging an arm back around Bitty and pulling him close.

“You can tell your team,” Bitty offered, as the television rolled over into another episode of Golden Girls . “If you want.”

“Really?” Kent shifted so he could see Bitty’s face. “All of them?”

“Well –” Bitty paused, thinking about it for a minute. “I won’t, um. I mean I won’t sit with the wives if I come to games and make it super obvious, but… yeah. You can tell them all. You can –” He took a deep breath. “You can tell the press you have a boyfriend, if you want.”

“Babe. They’ll start looking for you,” Kent said, voice soft. “People will tear apart pictures of me with anyone trying to figure out who I’m dating.”

“I know,” Bitty said. His voice didn’t waver, and he was proud.

“What about your family?” Kent asked.

“I’ll just have to… cross that bridge when I get to it,” Bitty said. “I guess.”

“Is this you saying that you want me to do that?” Kent asked.

“Yes,” Bitty said. “Just wait until I go home.”

His flight the following morning left ridiculously early – it would get him home in time to make his afternoon class, which was great, but it also meant that they had to make it an early night and get some rest. Kent dropped him off at the airport before the sun was up, lingering in the lobby until Bitty had gone through security.

He posted the boyfriend tag video while Bitty was still in the air – he landed to find a notification on his phone that SweetiePie90 had a new video up. When he opened it, Bitty couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. They looked so… comfortable. Happy. Even though the video didn’t show either of their faces, Bitty got the sense that everyone could see how close they were. The video cut off with the kiss.

School picked right back up where he’d left it – which meant that Bitty was, to be honest, a little behind. He hurried to his afternoon classes and then to practice, and by the time he got back to the Haus, Bitty didn’t even want to think about his pile of homework. He had at least two papers to write and resolved to deal with them just like he usually did – procrastination by baking. He was happily cutting butter into flour to make crust when he came up with a plan.

Three pies later – honey peach, chocolate pecan, and blueberry crumble – Bitty felt ready to bring his friends to the table. Coordinating schedules wasn’t that difficult, but because of senior stress levels, Bitty waited until Holster, Lardo, and Ransom were all already back at the Haus.

“So,” he said, clenching his hands under the table, “I’ve, uh. I’ve been seeing someone for a while, now.”

Ransom and Holster exchanged a look and grinned.

“Yeah?” said Ransom.

Lardo didn’t say anything.

Right. Best to just… rip off the bandaid, right? “It’s Kent Parson,” Bitty said, after a long moment of silence.

Holster stared. “Wait,” he said. “ What ?!”

“Kent Parson ?” Ransom filled his mouth with pie a moment later, glancing away from Bitty.

“I thought you were dating Jack,” said Lardo, pausing with a fork in hand.

“Yeah,” Holster said.

Oh. Fuck.

“No,” Bitty said, twisting his fingers together. “Kent and I have been together for, um. For like. A year and a half?” His voice rose on the last word, nerves coming to the surface.

“Holy shit, bro,” said Ransom. “It wasn’t Jack?”

“Wait. This is Bribery Pie,” said Holster, looking down at his plate of blueberry crumble, fork halfway to his mouth. “How dare you lure us in here to discuss your flagrant falsehoods with a Bribery Pie?!”

“Three Bribery Pies,” Ransom said.

“Flagrant falsehoods?” Lardo raised an eyebrow.

“He’s been watching some period dramas,” said Ransom.

Three Bribery Pies!” Holster put a bite in his mouth anyway, ignoring their discussion of his word choices. “S’not like you needed ’em. But goddamn, bro.”

“Was it the kegster?” Lardo asked, looking back to Bitty.

“No,” Bitty said. “I met him online. It’s a long story.”

“Spill, bro,” said Holster.

“Wait. Wait ,” said Ransom. “Was Kent Parson your Boston booty call?”

“More like my Boston boyfriend ,” Bitty said, the tips of his ears burning.

“Bro,” said Holster. “ Bro . Is this why you got to go to the Winter Classic?”

“You know it is,” said Ransom. “Fuck. You sneaky bastard.”

It was a good thing Bitty had made coffee. They sat around the kitchen table for a long time, talking about everything – how long Bitty had known Kent, how many people knew about their relationship, Kent’s visit over the summer. When he returned to his room, Bitty flopped onto his bed. Had he ever been so tired? It didn’t seem like it.

When he picked his phone up, the notification from Kent’s Instagram caught his eye. Opening the app, Bitty found himself looking at a simple picture of a familiar lamp. It glowed in the photo, brilliant gold against the darkness of Kent’s bedroom. Scrolling to see the caption, Bitty swallowed against a lump in his throat.

I love you like XO You love me like XO Baby love me lights out

( missed the beginning? catch up on AO3! )

ohnowhatreyoudoing  asked:

I know the family tree from TWOIAF of the Targaryens, but is there a more complete tree that shows all the births of bastards and unmarried Targs? For instance, Aegon IV had NUMEROUS bastards, but had only 3 legitimate children; is there a more accurate tree (probs fan made, ya know?) displaying lineage for these bastards and such?

The biggest and most complete Targaryen family tree that I know of is this one on the Wiki of Ice and Fire. It doesn’t include all of Aegon the Unworthy’s bastards, unfortunately, only Daemon Blackfyre (and Viserys Plumm), but you can see some of their trees in the family tree category. Don’t overlook the Blackfyre tree, for that matter.

Though if you’re into giant family trees, you have to check out the all-ASOIAF family tree, which is seriously intense and does include all of Aegon’s bastards that we know of. As well as everybody else. It’s not quite as readable as the wiki’s trees, though. (And I think it makes one or two incorrect assumptions.) But it’s wildly ambitious, successfully so, and should not be missed. :)


“All right.  All right. I want you sit out a couple of rounds, all right? All right”


I Can’t Swim 2/? (Boys Suck)

@beccashaf123 asked: (An extension to ‘I Can’t Swim’) Can she end up making out with Carl somewhere when they didn’t realize Ron was there, and Ron and Carl get in fight.

A/N: Part two in the ‘I Can’t Swim’ series. Also I’m switching this to first person just because it flows better, sorry. I hat doing it, but I must. 

Also sorry it’s short, I wanted to make it short since the first part was long. Tell me what you guys want to happen next, this journey will be lead by you guys (we can even crash the car here if you want.) 

The Rarl fanfic will be out soon btw, just have to put it off. Sitting on it as I think.

A week has passed, Carl and I have not left Alexandria since I nearly drowned. I haven’t talked to Ron at all, and I’ve been hold up with the Grimes family. Fortunately, Jessie did fork over my belongings after she realized I was no longer coming ‘home’. She handed my a duffel bag of my clothes with a, “I’m sorry, my boy is not exempt from the whole ‘boys are stupid thing’.” I really don’t know what she meant by it, but I’m sure it was supposed to be something nice considering she gave me all my clothes back. Now I can stop stealing Carl’s clothes, not that I want to though. His clothes are way more comfortable than mine. Plus, they smell like him which is oddly reassuring. 

“Hey, (Y/N), wanna go hang out by the gazebo?” Carl peeps into my room (well technically it’s his too since the Grimes house only has three rooms).

“Sure just let me change into some of my clothes,” I smile, sliding from our bed. 

“Why? You look fine in my clothes,” he scoffs. I feel my cheeks heat up as I stand.

“Yeah, okay,” I can feel a timid smile play on my lips, “Lets just go then.”

As I pass him I feel his hand link with mine and I blush again, but I know he doesn’t understand why. Carl has never had a girlfriend before, he doesn’t get it.

“Sooo, why the gazebo of all places? We could have just stayed home,” Ii laugh lightly nudging his shoulder as we sit.

“I dunno, thought you might like to leave the house for a bit,” Carl grins, “Carol is watching Judith today so we can have some time to ourselves.” 

“Okay, well what do you wanna do?” I ask, leaning over to rest my head on his shoulder. He tenses beneath me, but I ignore the sensation as he easily relaxes.


I sit up straight again, giving him a confused eyebrow raise. My head tilts to the side as I quickly study his face with growing confusion.

“What do you mean ‘talk’ Carl we can do that inside-,” His lips press to mine before I can finish, and my eyes widen. I did not expect him to be this bold, since he had never kissed before. Relaxing into the inexperienced boy, I lift a (s/c) had to cup his cheek and lean forward. Honestly, for a first timer Carl really isn’t a bad kisser. Plus his lips are really soft despite their chapped appearance. I lean into him as I climb into his lap legs on either side of his waist. Our lips move in sync and in this moment the only thing on my mind is the feeling of Carl’s lips against my own and the butterflies bouncing in my chest.


The clearing of someones throat snaps me back into reality and I pull away from Carl. My (e/c) eyes meet his momentarily before I glance over my shoulder to look behind me. I don’t like the sight I’m seeing.

Ron is standing behind us, arms crossed. He looks like he is on the verge of throwing a hissy fit, not that it’s really my problem anymore.

“Why the fuck are you making out with my girlfriend, Grimes?” Girlfriend?

“Last time I checked you kicked her out. Guys don’t do that to their ‘girlfriends,’” Carl sasses from beneath me. I look back to him, cringing as he motions for me to stop straddling him so he may confront my ex. 

As much as Ron deserves it, I really don’t want to see his ass get handed to him today. I’ve got better stuff, things.

“Why don’t you say that to my face,” Ron yells, hands balling into fists. The brunet looks to me apologetically before he stands to face the other boy.

“I just did, dumbass.” Carl states, rolling his eyes.

This is where all hell breaks loose. Ron jumps on top of Carl and they both go rolling down the stairs of the gazebo, shouting things at each other that I can’t comprehend. By the time I am able to run down and catch up to them Carl is on top of Ron and they’re both struggling with each others hands. I can’t tell who did what first but Carl has a busted lip and Ron’s eye is starting to go red. Amazing, it hasn’t even been three minutes and they both damaged each other.

“What the hell is going on,” Rick is next to me now, looking for answers. I try to explain, but he doesn’t waste time on that and instead goes to pull his son away from Ron who is scooped up by Glenn (woah didn’t even see you there Glenn). Once separated Ron continues struggling to get to Carl who has let it go now.

“(Y/N), what was going on here?” Rick looks to me again, Carl’s gaze drifting to me too.

“Ron wanted to fight Carl, I dunno why.” Hey, if I told him I wouldn’t be able to share a room with Carl anymore. No thanks, he’s really warm.

“Ron, why don’t we go have a chat,” Rick states releasing Carl and moving over to Ron who glares at me for lying, “Mind helping Carl clean his lip up (Y/N)?”

“No problem Mr. Grimes.” I smile.

I bend down to dab at Carl’s lip as he sits on the toilet seat. His eyebrows are furrowed with confusion as I work, but I choose to ignore the confusion. He looks fairly fine aside from the lip, he must’ve gotten Ron good.

“Why did you lie to my dad, (Y/N)?”

“Did you not want me to?”

trueloveforeverbeautyandthebeast  asked:

Which family would you say is more inbred Dany's line or Gilly's line?

The Targaryens still win here, I’m afraid. Viserys and Dany have a coefficient of inbreeding of 37.5%, but Gilly’s baby is only 25%.

This is assuming that Craster has only been able to maintain his… operations for two generations. If Gilly’s mother were also his daughter, then it would be like this:

Which would be the same as the last generation of Targaryens. Siblings who marry and have children who marry is a seriously huge effect (as the coefficient of relationship between the first is 50%, and then it increases in the next generation), but a father-daughter relationship coefficient is also 50%.

Though even with this two-generation version and the equal coefficient of inbreeding, I’d still say that the Targaryens are more inbred, with less genetic diversity between generations and between each other. Viserys and Dany have only two grandparents and two great-grandparents and four great-great-grandparents, whereas Gilly’s baby has four and eight and sixteen. (Like normal… almost.) And since Craster maintains a harem – his children all have different mothers – there’s much greater genetic diversity between those children than between Viserys and Dany. Even with Craster’s incestuous repetitions, that’s still a far greater number of people contributing to the gene pool of his family than to the gene pool of the last Targaryens.

Hope that helps!

anonymous asked:

When the new family arrives, the fork stays in the sink. Life goes on like this for decades, family after family spending their life in the house. Still, the fork remains with everyone thinking to themselves but never saying aloud, “we’ll wash it eventually.” Over time, the house eventually crumbles down, and civilization moves on past the once-thriving family community.


arriviaderci  asked:

Do you think it's odd that Rhaenys Targaryen as in The Queen Who Never Was didn't have the Baratheon look (from her mother Jocelyn) despite it being made out like it was some sort of super gene in the first book?

Well, you have to realize that Jocelyn was only half Baratheon herself – her mother was Alyssa Velaryon. (Widow of Aenys Targaryen, and thus also Jocelyn’s husband’s grandmother.) And for all the talk about the Baratheon “strong seed”, Valyrian genes seem to be pretty powerful themselves. Consider the family of Daeron II and Mariah Martell, how we only know one of their sons looked like his mother. And consider how only one of the sons of Aegon V and Betha Blackwood seems to have the Blackwood coloring. (I really wish we had descriptions of their daughters Shaera and Rhaelle– Shaera I’d suspect looked Targaryen, but I wonder if Rhaelle had black hair and thus reinforced the Baratheon “power” when she married Ormund.) Mind you not every Targaryen outcross has a Valyrian appearance, but the silver hair and purple eyes do seem to breed true more frequently than you’d expect.

Anyway, this is Rhaenys’s family tree:

Note that Jocelyn’s father Robar Baratheon was at least 1/8 Targaryen through his grandfather Orys. (Based on the belief that Orys Baratheon was a bastard brother of Aegon the Conqueror.) With his wife Alyssa Velaryon (presumably a full-blooded Valyrian), that would make Jocelyn 9/16 Valyrian – so less than half Baratheon, really. And so Rhaenys Targaryen was 25/32 Valyrian – that’s 78%. (And her children with Corlys Velaryon would be 89%.)

Against that power, even the Baratheon “strong seed” wouldn’t stand a chance. So the coal yielded to the silver, and Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, had the look of the Targaryens, as did her children.