#not until george explains it has to go over the net

[alasarys]

Monza 2023

[sequinsmile-x]

Heartbeat on the Highline

She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need. 

AKA, the one in which Emily and Aaron get a call that their daughter has had to go to hospital whilst they are away on a case.

-x-

Hi besties <3

This is a fic I started a long time ago and never really got anywhere with beyond one particular scene, but I finally reopened the document today and finished it.

This fic brings my total word count to 1,736,161...which is more than the entire Game of Thrones book series (1,736,054) . Which is ridiculous and amazing and...just about everything in between. If George R. R. Martin ever actually releases the next book in A Song of Fire and Ice I guess I'll just have to beat him again!!

Thank you so much for your continued support of my writing, it means the absolute world. As long as y'all are here reading, I'll be here thinking of new things to put these two through!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Sick child, hospitals

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily grimaces as she takes a sip of her coffee, looking down at the mug in her hand with disdain as she swallows. 

“Leaves a lot to be desired, doesn’t it?” 

She smiles as she looks up at her husband, “It’s not the worst we’ve ever had,” she mumbles, taking another sip and grimacing at the bitterness, “But it’s up there.” 

It had been a long day that had started with a phone call from Penelope before dawn. They were dragged out of sleep and their bed for a case. Aaron had called Jessica to ask her to come over to look after the kids as Emily got ready for the day, distracted partway through her make-up routine by their toddler crying out for her. Ines had been grumpy, the 18-month-old’s usual happy demeanour nowhere to be found as she demanded her mother’s attention, her slightly too warm forehead against Emily’s neck as she refused to be put back down. 

As they’d left the house and she’d handed her little girl over to Jessica she explained that Ines had a bit of a temperature. Familiar guilt had lingered in her belly all day, the reality of balancing her love for her job and her love for her children something she was never sure she got right. Leaving behind her daughter when she wasn’t quite herself made her heart feel heavy, a weight in her chest that she knew wouldn’t lessen until she was home again. 

Aaron smiles at her and nods towards the front of the bullpen, “Come on, the sooner we deliver the profile, the sooner we catch this guy. And then we can go home.” 

She nods and downs the rest of her coffee, putting her mug down before she follows her husband. She stops as her phone rings from her pocket and she pulls it out, her momentary joy at her wallpaper, a picture of Jack and Ines cuddled together on the couch, is immediately squashed. She feels a sense of dread when she sees Jessica’s name appear on her cellphone screen. It roots her to the spot, her limbs heavy, her grip on her phone tightening as everything else around her fades out, the sound of the rest of the team delivering the profile muffled as if she was behind glass. 

They had a routine. If they were away on a case Jessica would always send a text to check if they were free before she called so Emily and Aaron could say goodnight to Jack and Ines when they were away on a case. They would step away from whatever they were doing, she and Aaron huddled together around one of their phones as they spoke to their children just before they went to bed, an ache in her chest that Emily learnt never quite went away when one of them told her they missed her. 

This was different. It was only 5.45 pm, too early for either of them to be going to bed, even Ines, the 18-month-old well known for being occasionally defiant for anyone other than Emily when it came to bedtime. 

She shakes her head at herself, ridding herself of thoughts she’s sure are an overreaction and she briefly looks up, her gaze catching Aaron’s. She tilts her head towards the hallway she’s near and holds up her phone to tell him she has to take a call. He nods, his smile as reassuring as it was subtle, something only she would ever be able to pick up on. She answers as she steps away, not wanting the call to ring out, her instincts that something was wrong still vibrating under her skin.

“Jess, hi,” she answers, looking back over her shoulder to make sure she’s far enough away from everyone else that she won’t be overheard, “Is everything ok? You don’t usually call this early.” 

“Emily,” Jessica replies, and Emily immediately knows she’s right, that something has happened. Her training and profession both a blessing and a curse as she picks up on the poorly concealed concern in the other woman’s voice, “I’m so sorry to have you call you and tell you this, but Ines is in the hospital.” 

Emily feels like all of the air has been stolen from her lungs. Her breath catches in her chest, hooking onto her ribs in a way thats painful. She leans against the wall she’d been standing near, suddenly not trusting her legs to hold her up. Her shoulders press into the plaster, the coolness of it through her shirt barely registering. 

Something was wrong with her little girl and she was hours away from her. “Wh…what?” She asks, her voice hoarse. “What happened, is she hurt?” 

“No, she didn’t hurt herself,” Jessica says, her voice calmer now, naturally falling into the role of the caretaker she often filled, clearly picking up on Emily’s unusual display of panic, “She spiked a fever and I couldn’t get it down with Tylenol or anything else and,” she pauses, blowing out a breath before she continues, “She had a seizure.”

Whatever she thought Jessica was going to say it wasn’t that. Her stomach churns and she immediately feels sick, the distance between herself and home further than it had ever felt, the guilt she felt for leaving, even for work, when she’d known Ines wasn’t entirely herself that morning overwhelming.

“Oh my God,” Emily exclaims, her hand coming to cover her mouth, her nausea climbing up her throat. Before she can say anything else Jessica continues, giving her more details she doesn’t know how to ask for. 

“The doctors said she’s okay, it was brought on by the fever. It seems to be an ear infection and they are treating it now, they are also going to do other tests to make sure it isn’t anything else.”

“Okay,” Emily says, her throat dry, all of her efforts channelled into not bursting into tears in the middle of a police precinct. She clears her throat and swallows thickly, pushing down the bile that feels like it’s climbing up her throat, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, can you stay with her until I get there?”

She knows she doesn’t have to ask, that Jessica considers Ines as her niece as much as Jack is her nephew, but she does because she can’t think of what else to say. 

“Of course,” Jessica says, “I’ll text you the details of where we are.” 

“Thank you,” Emily breathes out, trying to steady herself, her nerves frayed to the point where they might snap. She’s immediately hit by another thought, cursing herself for not thinking of her son sooner, “Fuck, is Jack ok? Was he there when she…” 

She drifts off, sure if she said outloud that her daughter, her baby, had had a seizure she would fall apart right there. That pieces of her would spill out onto the coffee-stained carpet beneath her feet, something she couldn’t let happen until she saw her little girl, until she made sure she was okay. 

“He saw it happen,” Jessica says carefully, “He was scared but he’s okay now Ines is ok, he’s in there now reading to her.” 

Emily chokes out a laugh that sounds strangled, caught in her throat in all of the fear lodged there, and she nods despite the fact Jessica cannot see her.

“Good, I’m glad he’s okay,” She blows out a steady breath and she looks up as she hears footsteps, her smile tight as she sees her husband enter the hallway she’d sought solitude in. 

Regret fills her chest at the thought of what she has to tell him and she turns her attention back to Jessica on the other end of the phone. “I should go, but let me know if anything else happens ok?” 

“Of course.” 

Emily later wouldn’t remember if she said goodbye to Jessica, or anything beyond turning so she’s looking at Aaron properly, his eyebrows creased as he picks up on her demeanour, how something was clearly wrong. 

“Em?” He asks, stepping closer to her. His hand reaches out and wraps around hers, linking their fingers together in a way he usually wouldn’t at work, instantly providing comfort that she never has to ask for. He was always there, ready and waiting, aware of her needs often before she was, “Is everything okay?” 

She shakes her head in response. “No,” she swallows thickly and squeezes his hand in return, “It isn’t,” she clenches her teeth and presses her lips together, determined not to lose her composure, “That was Jess, Ines is sick. She’s in hospital.” 

It feels like a jolt of electricity, a rush of adrenaline that makes him feel frozen in place, sending a shiver up his spine. His stomach churns, the mere mention of his little girl being unwell enough makes him feel sick. He looks at his wife and he knows he has to pull it together. She was always the strong one, always the glue that held him together, but he knew their family, their children, were her weak spot. The chink in her impenetrable armour. She was barely holding herself together, the emotions he can see she is desperately trying to hide showing through the cracks in her facade.

He could fall apart later when they knew their daughter was okay, when they were home and by her side. 

“What happened?” He asks, stepping closer, making sure he is providing all the comfort he can. 

“She has an ear infection, her fever spiked so high she had a seizure,” her voice cracks on the last word and she looks at the ceiling, willing the tears she can feel gathering in her eyes to disappear, “I need to go home, Aaron. I need to see my baby.” 

It had never been in any doubt, the logistics of everything already playing out in the back of his mind as he stood there with his wife, “Of course, sweetheart,” he says, cupping her cheek with the hand not linked with his and briefly resting his forehead against hers, “Dave can take point here, we can get a flight-”

She looks at him, moving so fast she feels something pull in her neck, the pain barely registering. 

“We can’t both leave,” she says, even though she wants him with her, her words contradicting everything she was feeling, “We’ve barely been here a day.”

She knew it was a fine line between being his wife and being his employee, and it was something she usually walked well. Balancing on it like it was a tightrope, a well-practised routine. But she felt like she’d tripped, like she was freefalling, and as much as she wanted him to catch her, to be the safety net she always claimed she didn’t need. 

“Emily,” he says firmly, pushing down the spark of irritation in his gut at the implication that anything was more important than their family. He knows it’s unfair, that she’s like a frayed nerve right now, so he ignores it, aware she isn’t necessarily thinking straight, “There is no way I’m staying here when our daughter is in hospital. I’m coming with you. Okay?” 

She pauses for a moment before she nods, “Okay,” she says, her lower lip trembling, “Can I…can I have a hug?” 

It feels pathetic, like a ridiculous thing to ask her husband, but she asks anyway. Unsure what to do in this situation, this collision of their personal and professional lives, any pretence that they weren’t together, their relationship usually a point of interest to local cops if they figured out they were married, shattered on the floor around them. 

“Oh Em,” he says, pulling her into a hug, his lips against her temple as she settles into his embrace, “You never have to ask,” he kisses the side of her head and then pulls back, “I’ll go speak to Dave and then we’ll go home to see our little girl.” 

She nods, smiling tightly at him as she pulls back, her arms tight across her chest to hold herself together until he can do it for her again.

___

It feels like the longest flight of her life. Longer than the one that had brought her back from Paris, the flight that had brought her back from the dead, out of the place she had been hiding in the shadows for months whilst she waited for her demons to find her. 

This is worse. Her fear not for herself, or coming face to face with the man who had torn through her life like it was made of something no stronger than paper, but for her little girl. For her son who had seen his sister get so sick so quickly. It was paralysing in a way she could never have anticipated, as if her heart was outside of her body. Walking around in the form of an 8-year-old boy and an 18-month-old little girl, a price she’d happily pay for the rest of her life in exchange for the joy she felt as a result of being their mother. 

As soon as Aaron has parked up outside the hospital she’s out of the car, walking towards the entrance with a determination in her step. Aaron catches up with her, his hand wrapping around hers when he makes it to her side. He squeezes her hand, his fingers linked through hers as they walk into the hospital. They approach the nurse's station, Emily’s shoulders feeling tighter by the second. 

“Excuse me,” Aaron says, his smile frustratingly polite despite the circumstances when one of the nurses looks up at him, “Our daughter was brought in earlier, Ines Hotchner?” 

The nurse nods, typing on the computer in front of her before she looks back up at them, “She’s been admitted for observation,” she says, smiling reassuringly at them, “Paediatrics is on the fourth floor. She's in room 4102, the elevators are just down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Aaron replies, nodding before he turns around, his arm around Emily’s shoulders as he leads her towards the elevators, “Let’s go see our little girl.” 

They take the stairs, both too anxious to wait for the elevator now they are so close. They give Ines’ details to the paediatrics desk, and for a moment Aaron is sure he’s going to have to stop his wife from yelling at a nurse for just doing his job when he asks for identification. 

Emily takes a moment outside of the room they are directed to, giving herself a second to collect herself, aware that neither Jack nor Ines needed her to be a mess in front of them. Aaron places his hand on his wife’s shoulder, reminding her that he’s there, that he always would be. She puts her hand over his, hoping she can press her gratefulness, her love, from her skin into his. 

She never quite had the words for how she felt about him, for how she felt about her life. She’d grown up surrounded by people who never said what they really thought, every word calculated and purposeful. It left her unable to always express herself in the way she desperately wanted to, the words I love you never feeling enough. Not even scratching the surface of how much she loved him and their children, how she would burn the world down to protect them. 

She blows out a breath as she walks in, her heart seizing in her chest as she sees Ines, the toddler seemingly smaller than she usually was in the large bed she was sleeping in. Jack was asleep on the couch in the corner of the room, a blanket pulled over him and his arms hugging a cushion to his chest. Jessica turns to face the door as it opens, a relieved smile spreading over her face as she sees Emily and Aaron, 

“Hi,” she says as she stands up, walking over and pulling Emily into a brief hug, “I’m so sorry, I should have brought her here sooner.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Emily says, hugging her back, “There’s no way you could have known what would happen.” 

Aaron stores the comment away, making a mental note of it to remind her later when she inevitably blames herself for this, forever holding herself to a standard she’d never use against anybody else. Her concerns about turning into her own mother, something he knew was impossible, always lingering just below the surface. Breaking free through barely healed skin, pushing up through an always festering wound, whenever she considered herself a failure as a parent. 

Emily disconnects from Jessica and walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it. She looks at Ines, who, apart from the IV in the back of her hand, her soft skin bruised on her arm where she’d clearly had blood tests. Emily reaches out and brushes some of her unruly hair from her forehead, the softness of it against her fingers easing some of the tightness in her chest. 

“The doctor said she’s fine, she should be able to go home tomorrow,” Jessica says, and Emily turns to look at her. 

“Thank you, Jess. For looking after her and staying until we could get here,” Aaron says, pulling his former sister-in-law into a hug. 

“Of course I stayed,” Jess says, rolling her eyes at him as she pulls back, her voice incredulous, “She’s my niece.”

Emily is about to respond, about to tell Jess how grateful she is regardless, how nice it was to know that her daughter was with someone who loved her until she could be there, but she’s cut off by a tiny voice. 

“Mama?” 

She turns back to look at Ines, forcing a smile on her face as her eyes meet her daughters, “Hi sweet girl,” she says, stroking her hand over her hair again, “Mama is here,” she says, her voice shaking a little, “How are you feeling?”

Ines shrugs, “Icky.” 

Emily chokes on a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh and she leans forward to kiss the toddler's forehead, “I’m sorry, baby. Mama is here now,” she says, not sure if she was reassuring herself more with the repetition of her assurance or her little girl. Ines grasps at the collar of her shirt, pulling her towards her with more force than she thought an 18-month-old should have. “Do you want me to snuggle with you?” 

“Snuggle,” Ines says, nodding as she tugs on Emily’s shirt even more, and Emily kisses her forehead before she stands, carefully rearranging the little girl in the bed before she joins her. More of the tension in her chest unfurls as Ines leans against her, curling up in her mother’s arms, the little girl releasing a sigh as she rests her forehead against Emily’s neck. Ines looks over at Aaron, her smile wide like it always was when she looked at her father, “Hi Dada.”

“Hi princess,” he says, closing the gap between him and the bed as he leans in to kiss his daughter’s forehead, “Are you feeling better than earlier? Aunt Jessie said you weren’t very well.” 

She shrugs, “Head hurt.” 

“It’s all better now, though?” Emily asks, lost in her own world with her daughter, her awareness reduced to just the two of them in the bed for a few moments. She smiles as Ines nods against her neck, and she kisses her forehead, “Good. Mama loves you.” 

Ines snuggles into her even further, getting heavier as she starts to fall asleep again, her words slurring together. 

“Love Mama.”

___

They convince Jack to go home with Jess when he wakes up. It takes a while, the boy resistant to leave his sister’s side, but he eventually relents when they promise he’ll see her tomorrow. Emily and Aaron both stay at the hospital, both of them not wanting to let their little girl out of their sight, the latter using his badge to convince the nurses to let them break the usual ‘one parent overnight’ rule. 

Aaron sits next to the bed, his focus on his wife as she watches their daughter sleep, her hand rubbing circles on her back. 

He remembered when they found out they were having a girl, the mix of excitement and fear that had crossed over his wife’s face as she asked the doctor to repeat herself something that was burned into his memory. She’d quietly admitted to him later that same day that she was worried history would repeat itself, that she was cursed to be the same as her mother. He’d assured her it wasn’t the case, that she was already a better mother than hers had ever been, that she had been since the moment she’d stepped into that role in Jack’s life.��

He knew moments like today she’d focus on the parts that seemingly confirmed her worst fears. That the distance between her and their daughter when she was sick was evidence that she was everything she hadn’t wanted to be. She wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that she’d got to her side as quickly as she could, that she’d glared at the air steward on the plane when he tried to make a joke about her nervous energy, or that she’d left work without even thinking about it. Her children her priority, the most important part of her life, which was something Elizabeth had never seemingly been capable of. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and quiet as he makes sure he doesn’t wake up Ines. 

Emily hums and looks up at him, her lips pressed together, “I…” she swallows thickly, “I don’t know,” she says honestly, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop herself from crying. She presses her lips together and her chin shakes, the emotions that had only been skin deep all evening finally starting to escape, “I wasn’t here, Aaron. She needed me and I wasn’t here.” 

It feels like her chest cracks open, the pressure of everything she’d stuffed in there breaking free, her ribs aching as she tries, and fails to suppress a sob. 

“Oh, Em,” he says softly, encouraging her to stand up, helping her lay Ines down on the bed so she stays asleep. He wraps his arms around his wife and leads her over to the couch, tugging her close and holding her tightly. She holds him back just as fiercely, her hands grasping fistfuls of his jacket as she sinks into him, her cheek against his chest as she keeps her eyes on Ines, her view of the little girl blurred by the constant stream of tears that didn’t seem to be going anywhere how they’d started, “She’s okay. She’s perfectly safe.” 

She pulls back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed, “She had a seizure Aaron,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek to try to feel anything other than the tension in her chest, “Our little girl had a seizure and I wasn’t there. I was working. I knew she wasn’t well this morning, I knew it and I still went to work. What kind of mother does that make me?” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice firm but kind as he cups her cheek, forcing her to look at him, “You could never have known that would happen. As soon as you knew something was wrong you were on your way here,” he says, stroking her skin, his calluses against her skin soothing, a reminder of his strength, of his love for her, “You’re an excellent mother.”

She sighs, “Honey-”

“I won’t argue with you about this,” he cuts over her, a soft smile on his face, “You’re an excellent mother,” he repeats, “And I know the two youngest Hotchners would agree.” 

She chokes out a sound, not sure what to call it herself, and she nods, too tired to argue with him, wanting nothing more than him to be right. She leans forward and presses her forehead into his shoulder, “Thank you for coming with me, I think I would have killed that air steward if you weren’t there.” 

“You definitely would have,” he quips, kissing the top of her head as he rubs his palm up and down her back, “And you don’t have to thank me,” he says, encouraging her to look at him, “Our family is always my priority too. No matter what.” 

She nods and leans forward, stamping her lips against his. It was moments like this that made her grateful to be the second person who was lucky enough to love him, to build a family with him. That he had learnt from his past, his complete lack of hesitation to come with her today all the proof she would ever need. It isn’t lost on her that he’s held back how he’s feeling, his own fear at their daughter being sick today buried deep in his chest whilst he helped her. 

She’d make sure she gave him the space as soon as he needed it, at the first sign that he was letting his well-constructed barriers down. 

“I love you,” she says, running her fingers through his hair. 

“I love you too,” he says, kissing her before he wipes tears from her cheeks, “Do you want to lay down with her again and try and get some sleep?” 

“God yes,” she replies, kissing him once more before she stands up, she looks at the bed and sighs, “I don’t think we’ll all fit.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, carefully lifting Ines so Emily can get back into the bed, her shoes kicked off and under the bed, “I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

She frowns at him as he settles Ines back onto her chest, “Honey, your back-”

“It will be okay for one night,” he says, even though they both know it’s not true, “Worth it so I can keep an eye on my girls.” 

She rolls her eyes at him as he tucks the sheet around them both, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, smiling softly as Ines shifts in her sleep, “Sweet, but ridiculous.” 

He presses a kiss against each of their foreheads and settles in the chair next to the bed, “Get some sleep, baby,” he says, “And tomorrow we’ll take her home and spoil her.”

“You always spoil her,” she murmurs, kissing the top of Ines’s head as she closes her eyes, the smell of her daughter’s hair soothing her. 

Aaron chuckles in response, watching as she falls asleep, their daughter safely curled up in her arms, “You’re one to talk.” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florencremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my taglist here!

[darkmaga-retard]

Should you take an arch-technocrat at his word? I think so. Larry Ellison is the founder and former chairman of Oracle, the third-largest software company in the world. According to SFGATE, “The CIA was not just Oracle’s first customer. Founded in May 1977, the firm’s name came from a CIA project code-named “Oracle.” Small world, indeed. Listen to the video and be prepared to be shocked.

When I was in the software business in the 1990s, the VP of Sales at Oracle approached me about integrating my sales and marketing software into the growing stable of Oracle products. I thought I had struck it rich! That is, until I got a whiff of their internal culture. The sales manager for Oracle was a woman who affectionally called her sales team her “yuppie guppies.” How cute, I thought, until I asked one of her “guppies” what that meant. He explained that guppies eat their own offspring and if they didn’t make their sales quotas by hook or by crook, they would be escorted off the campus within the hour. Needless to say, I ran as fast as I could to get away from them.

Larry Ellison has never changed his spots over the years. He should have been branded as a menace to society long ago. ⁃ Patrick Wood, TN Editor.

On Thursday, Oracle co-founder Larry Ellison shared his vision for an AI-powered surveillance future during a company financial meeting, reports Business Insider. During an investor Q&A, Ellison described a world where artificial intelligence systems would constantly monitor citizens through an extensive network of cameras and drones, stating this would ensure both police and citizens don’t break the law.

Ellison, who briefly became the world’s second-wealthiest person last week when his net worth surpassed Jeff Bezos’ for a short time, outlined a scenario where AI models would analyze footage from security cameras, police body cams, doorbell cameras, and vehicle dash cams.

“Citizens will be on their best behavior because we are constantly recording and reporting everything that’s going on,” Ellison said, describing what he sees as the benefits from automated oversight from AI and automated alerts for when crime takes place. “We’re going to have supervision,” he continued. “Every police officer is going to be supervised at all times, and if there’s a problem, AI will report the problem and report it to the appropriate person.”

he 80-year-old billionaire also predicted that AI-controlled drones would replace police vehicles in high-speed pursuits. “You just have a drone follow the car,” he explained. “It’s very simple in the age of autonomous drones.”

Ellison co-founded Oracle in 1977 and served as CEO until he stepped down in 2014. He currently serves as the company’s executive chairman and CTO.

Sounds familiar

While Ellison attempted to paint his prediction of universal public surveillance in a positive light, his remarks raise significant questions about privacy, civil liberties, and the potential for abuse in a world of ubiquitous AI monitoring.

Ellison’s vision bears more than a passing resemblance to the cautionary world portrayed in George Orwell’s prescient novel 1984. In Orwell’s fiction, the totalitarian government of Oceania uses ubiquitous “telescreens” to monitor citizens constantly, creating a society where privacy no longer exists and independent thought becomes nearly impossible.

But Orwell’s famous phrase “Big Brother is watching you” would take on new meaning in Ellison’s tech-driven scenario, where AI systems, rather than human watchers, would serve as the ever-vigilant eyes of authority. Once considered a sci-fi trope, automated systems are already becoming a reality: Similar automated CCTV surveillance systems have already been trialed in London Underground and at the 2024 Olympics.

China has been using automated systems (including AI) to surveil its citizens for years. In 2022, Reuters reported that Chinese firms had developed AI software to sort data collected on residents using a network of surveillance cameras deployed across cities and rural areas as part of China’s “sharp eyes” campaign from 2015 to 2020. This “one person, one file” technology reportedly organizes collected data on individual Chinese citizens, leading to what The Economic Times called a “road to digital totalitarianism.”

Begging for GPUs

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“MAN WHO RAIDED BANK CAPTURED BY POLICE,” Toronto Star. February 4, 1933. Page 4. ---- Frank West Captured and $1,060 of Stolen Funds Regained --- Penniless and desperate for money, Frank H. West, 22, no home, robbed the Markham branch of the Canadian Bank of Commerce last Monday, police alleged last night, following West's arrest in one of the biggest man-hunts conducted by the Toronto police since the search for the slayers of Dr. More, Parkdale dentist, some months ago. 

While West's arrest not wholly unexpected, police state that. the dragnet was really thrown out, for the accomplice of Joseph Girouard, Detroit, who was captured after a gun duel with P.C. Oswald Brown yesterday, following the rob- bing of the Wellesley and Church branch of the Royal Bank. The fugitive, for whose arrest a reward of $1,000 has been offered, is believed to be the prisoner's brother, George. 

West's arrest last night and the recovery of $1,000 was the result of painstaking work on the part of Detective-Sergt. Albert Johns, Patrol Sergt. Fred Bevan and Acting Detective Morsmon. 

West appeared in county police court to-day, charged with armed robbery, and without plea or election was remanded by Magistrate Keith until next Friday. 

The prisoner, neatly dressed in a gray suit and blue overcoat, made only a brief appearance. He was brought over from headquarters by Inspector Gurnett of the provincial police, Detective Sergeant Albert Johns and other officers after he had appeared in city police court where he was remanded until February 11, when he pleaded guilty to stealing the automobile owned by Geo. Dawson, 2 De Lane Ave.. which police say was used in the robbery.

Following the Markham robbery, in which $2,788 was stolen, police searched Toronto "flop-houses" in the belief the thieves might be in hiding there. Yesterday, the district in which the Royal Bank hold-up took place, was combed thoroughly. Last night Detective-Sergt. Johns, with P.S. Bevan and Detective Morsmon, following a clue, walked into a fashionable uptown rooming hotel.

Captive Is Stoical When they burst into West's room and ordered him to throw up his hands, he merely looked up from the book he was reading and stoically remarked: 

"I know why you are here and what you are looking for. You'll find it up in the cupboard there." 

In a wall cupboard the police found $1,080 and two revolvers, one identified as that belonging to Samuel Marchan, teller of the Markham bank. 

West calmly accompanied the officers to West Dundas St. station, where he is said to have signed a confession. Police say they aware of the identity of the other robber and his arrest is expected hourly. 

West, it is alleged, stated that he had lived in city relief hostels and "flop" houses and was desperate to get some money. He recently met a man who was willing to take a chance with him. They obtained a gun downtown- West did not explain how-and stole a car belonging to Bert Dawson, 2 Delaine Rd., East York. They in- tended, it is said, to rob a bank at Danforth and Main Sts., but became nervous when they saw people going in and out. They then drove to Markham, where they robbed the bank after herding the staff into a vault. They had a narrow escape from capture when Orval Heisey, a grocer, gave chase in his car, losing them near Aurora. 

West, questioned as to what became of the rest of the money, is said to have stated that his friend got a good portion but he took the major share of it. He rented a smart apartment, the one in which he was captured, bought a new suit and complete wardrobe outfits. Last night he seemed dejected and did not care, it is said, what became of him. 

Seek Yesterday's Gunman A police net has been thrown over the entire of Ontario for the fugitive (who, police believe, goes under the name of James Clayton), who, with a companion, held up the staff of the branch office of the Royal Bank of Canada. Church and Wellesley Sts., yesterday morning and after a running gun fight eluded pursuing bank clerks and police with nearly $3.130 in currency stuffed in his pockets. 

His companion, Joseph Girouard, was shot down at St. George and Bloor Sts., where they had been overtaken, and is now in the Toronto General hospital under police guard, with wounds in his chest and right arm. 

Chief Draper has been authorized to offer a reward of $1,000 for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the missing hold-up man, who is described as a Canadian or American, apparently of foreign extraction, between 30 to 35 years of age and weighing 160 pounds, about 5 feet 8 inches tall and of swarthy complexion. At the time of the hold-up he had a heavy beard, and was wearing an old, dirty fedora with a snap brim, and a blue overcoat. 

The Daily Star radio station, CFCA, assisted police in their efforts to apprehend the wanted man and bring him to justice, broadcasting his description at half-hour intervals. 

Every radio station in the city was enlisted by headquarters and before the night had elapsed the entire countryside knew of the escape of the bank robber.

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

It’s grey outside this morning, low fog, and we expect rain later in the morning that should go until midnight tonight. My what a difference a week makes. Last week at this time is was 8 Fahrenheit outside, this week 49 Fahrenheit at 8AM. Weird.

My first cup is steaming on the table next to me. It’s delicious. ☕️

NBC News

WASHINGTON — A federal judge indicated Wednesday that then-President Donald Trump’s remarks on Jan. 6 telling a crowd to “fight like hell” before the Capitol attack could have signaled to his supporters that he wanted them “to do something more” than just protest.

It seems obvious to all of us TFG riled up his supporters and sent them marching to the Capitol to overthrow the will of the people. Of course he’s likely to get away with it, run for President, win again, and never leave office. Thus destroying our democracy.

I hate being so negative but I haven’t seen anything that makes me believe justice will eventually come home to roost for TFG.

Ashur Cabrera

Thanks to my instance admins, though, seeing the red no alt badge is a simple way for me to know not to boost that post. Conversely, an alt badge gives me the green light to boost, knowing the author has taken the time to describe the image.

My friend, Ashur, on why it’s important to add alt text to images in your Mastodon posts. It’s all about accessibility.

Mac Rumors

Historically, Apple released at least one new Mac model every year in the fourth quarter that runs between October and December, starting in 2001 with the launch of the iBook G3. This means that there has been a new Mac toward the end of the year for the entire lifespan of product lines including the iPod, iPhone, iPad, and Apple Watch.

While I still love me some Apple devices I don’t really pay much attention to what’s happening with Apple releases. Most of the end of the year Apple enthusiast angst is around their promise to convert the entire Mac line to use Apple Silicon. They didn’t make it.

Meanwhile I’m plugging along on my 2019 MacBook Pro and it’s a perfectly great computer. Yes, even for writing code.

Rob Napier

We spend so much time drilling algorithmic complexity. Big-O and all that. But performance is so often about contention and memory, especially when working in parallel.

I see Rob Napier’s name all over Stack Overflow when I have a question about iOS or Mac Programming. This little piece walks through his process to optimize some code. I love these types of posts.

Not Just Bikes

I tried the “Full Self-Driving (Beta)” on a Model Y in Toronto. It was terrifying.

I don’t want a full self driving car and I have zero confidence in Tesla ever creating a good one, much less a perfect one. Musk is delusional and rapidly slipping into insanity after his purchase of Twitter. More on that later.

Don’t waste your money on a Tesla, there are lots of really great EV’s on the market now.

Mobile Syrup

After a heavy winter storm hit southern Ontario and parts of Quebec around December 25th, one lucky home could keep the lights on via the power from a Ford Lightning.

Speaking a a great EV! How cool is it to have the ability to power your home when the power goes out? I’d like to have that ability. I mean prices start at less than $40,000.00! 😳 Who can afford these things? I can’t. 😕

The North Shore Leader

Controversial US congressional candidate George Santos has finally filed his Personal Financial Disclosure Report on September 6th - 20 months late - and he is claiming an inexplicable rise in his alleged net worth to $11 million..

This Santos guy is a real piece of work, just like TFG. He’s nothing more than a grifter and he’s going to be a Representative for New York’s 3rd congressional district. Hogwash, I say. He should be expelled for lying and we need a better systems in place to vet any candidate before they’re allowed to run for office.

Seat 31B

A lot of people have been asking for an explainer on what is going on with Southwest Airlines and the massive meltdown that has occurred.

This whole Southwest thing is a real mess. It sounds like they need to invest heavily in their digital infrastructure. I know a company full of great folks who could help fix it.

David Penfold

Eating too much cake is the sin of gluttony. However, eating too much pie is okay because the sin of pi is always zero.

Lovely, geeky, dad joke. I had to share it.

Denny Henke

Building the tiny house, setting up the garden and food forest during the first summer. Then, of course, learning about living in the tiny house during winter and what that means for keeping warm and keeping things working.

This is a really great series of posts! Our youngest daughter is taken with the idea of living in a tiny home. Guess I should pass this series of articles on to her? 🤔

Dave Rogers

But, like anyone I suppose, I have darker moods from time to time; and I often find that I’m reluctant to post those thoughts at the marmot. They’re not strictly political, though politics has a role in why they exist.

I love reading Dave’s work. He’s a very thoughtful man and shares wonderful stories about life, tech, and photography. This post is out of the norm for him but I understand exactly where he’s coming from. I have these thoughts myself and I often wonder how many folks share them with me.

You’re not alone, my friend. ❤️

Dave Winer

One of the reasons I chose Twitter for identity for my apps, a decision made in 2014, is that I hoped that a developer community would grow up around Twitter. I hoped that Twitter would take a chance on co-promoting products. It could still happen, but it seems unlikely now.

With Twitter imploding there’s a decent chance Dave will have to swap out his identity system. As nice as it would be to not have to do it, it seems somewhat inevitable unless Musk can turn things around at Twitter.

Time for my third and final cup of coffee. See y’all next week. ☕️

[tarosin]

The great adventures of y/n tubbo jack niki and george

requested:yes/no

pairing: platonic y/n,tubbo,jack,niki and george

summary: minecraft cave in real life

content warning: cursing

an: the word love is used a couple times but this is all platonic <3 i still don’t know how to add read more on mobile i am sorry about that, part 3 to great adventures series

it was around 4 am when the heat became a problem, unable to sleep you grabbed your phone and decided to facetime ranboo just as he was ending stream

“hey boo...you look like you’ve seen a ghost what the fuck were you doing”

“fnaf vr”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad you’re being dramatic”

“okay we shall see how you like it when I make you play it when I’m in the UK”

“okay bet I’ll add it to our list of videos and stream ideas anyway I can't sleep it’s too hot and I’m so confused as to why Tommy keeps asking me if I like and I quote being high”

“tubbo was telling me about that he keeps teasing him about planes you never know maybe you’re all going on an international adventure... or being pushed out a plane”

“doubt it there’s no way Tommy would pull something as crazy as jumping out a plane it would be pretty cool, I was thinking about doing it for my birthday”

“with a parachute? I hope”

“eh with or without, either way, is fine for me”

an hour passed you and ranboo sat talking about what was happening tomorrow and how you wished he was going to be there with you, after all, you knew how it felt to be watching people you care about making plans and doing things without you.

“didn’t you say you were going to a cave tomorrow? Minecraft in real life, nice”

“I’m begging please touch grass”

“I’ve already done that it made me want to become an engineer now get some rest y/n you’ll be getting up in a few hours, I’ll call you tomorrow goodnight”

“see you tomorrow I love you”

*y/n has ended the call*

•••

when you woke up at 9 you couldn’t shake off the awful feeling you had, today just didn’t feel like a good day you needed some time to yourself to recharge however you knew you’d be okay later on

Niki: good morning y/n!! would you like us to pick you up now or do you need a bit longer

y/n: don’t worry about it I’ll make my own way!! :]

Niki: okay see you soon!!

George: we will pick you up in an hour and a bit

Tommy: wait what are you guys doing

tubbo: following jack and Niki around

y/n: what he said

Tommy: have fun then guys without me

y/n: don’t you have work to do big guy

Tommy: don’t you have to get ready

y/n: leave me alone

•••

soon enough you saw jacks car pull up outside so you grabbed your bag from the other day as it still had everything you needed except this time you decided to bring along a mini first aid kit as you knew your clumsiness and a cave wouldn’t mix well. now you were fully awake you couldn’t wait to go explore the caves, you sat next to Niki who decided to play with your hair and spent half of the journey on a call with an unhappy Tommy who was in college waiting to go to lesson the other half of the journey was spent singing along to the radio

•••

jack started recording and turned around to see you Niki and tubbo leaning over looking down at the floor

“oh hi jack” you waved at the camera “so what’s the plan of action”

“we’re going up there”

you loved heights so hearing that you were going to go on a cable car made you pretty excited once you all got into the car you and George tried opening all the windows whilst tubbo complained

“stop trying to open things”

“it’s a window”

“scared you’re going to get pushed over the edge hmm? scared you’ll have to free fall? it’s not that high you'd probably survive the fall, it’s not like I'm trying to open the door on a plane”

“y/n I mean this in the nicest way possible I’m never going on a plane with you”

tubbo laughed and joined the conversation “we shall see about that”

you tilted your head to the side and blinked a few times trying to process what he just said

“heh?”

“tubbo if we fell we would die right”

“you know jack I've done a lot in my life”

you took the phone from jack and began filming him and George

“why is it slowing down”

“we’re going to die”

“I didn’t bring enough food”

you sat laughing at your friends' reaction before explaining that it’s slowing down for a reason

“they’re slowing it down so you can jump out, what I didn’t tell you is there’s actually a parachute underneath where you’re sat, good luck gamers”

“We could probably climb out the window”

“NO, where do we go”

you just sat shaking your head laughing whilst your friends sat screaming about it stopping

“y/n we’re going to die”

“oh no.. let me just text ranboo to start planning our funerals”

eventually, the cable car began moving just very slow you then ended the recording after jack made jokes about it moving as fast as a George video comes out, you all then spent the rest of the time enjoying everyone’s company.

•••

tubbo noticed a park and ran to the ropes giving you time to update your community a stream will be happening later on

y/n has tweeted: I am outside, stream with ranboo when we get home :]

you laughed as you posted that as all the comments started rolling in questioning if ranboo had come to the UK. you walked back to your group and wrapped your arms around jack and Niki making them both jump out of shock

“Sorry about that ahah now if you don’t mind I want to play in the park”

they laughed as you ran to the rope trying to swing without falling that’s when you gave up and started climbing the net close to Niki.

“that’s not a swing George”

jack ran towards them “I’m getting on the swing with George”

Niki laughed as she recorded what was happening in front of her, she looked to her left expecting to see you stood next to her however she heard you laugh and run towards your friends

“I’m getting on the swing with tubbo”

a few moments later George pointed out a castle and tubbo mentioned the ‘wet rocks’ you just stood with your arm around Niki's shoulders enjoying the view of the castle that was until a dog caught your attention and you walked off to go ask if you could pet it

“Niki where’s y/n they were with you last”

“with the dog”

“tubbo when they come back just follow the path towards the castle, me and Niki are going to record”

“got it, boss man”

•••

after a few minutes, you walked back to tubbo and George realising jack and Niki weren’t there you tilted your head shrugged then sat next to tubbo on the swings as George began recording

“jack and Niki have left us but we’re having fun on the swings..”

“maybe we’ll lick some rocks”

“YEAH”

•••

“if we’re quiet we can sneak up on them”

the three of you ran down the path towards the start of the castle steps looking at the cameras that allowed you to see the top of the castle

“there they are”

“they’re vlogging”

“We can just see them through the castle cameras they have no idea we can see them”

you stood leaning against George until you all noticed they were about to make their way back down the steps so all ran off to hide

“there they go”

the three of you ran back down the path ignoring the stares from strangers and comments about how your hair was obnoxiously bright, the three of you scared the pair who were looking for you all

“I’ve never been less displeased to see George”

the five of you continued walking around after joking about the green water and questioning George on how he could tell what colour it was

“I’m a genius”

a few fans can over and took photos with you all and George began questioning them

“George you’re really self-promoting right now”

“George I am disappointed in you”

•••

“dude it’s boiling”

“ice cream?”

the five of you stood inline

“I’m dying to tubbo”

“I’m not going to ask questions, I love how you just accepted defeat”

“you’re next y/n” tubbo let go of George and began walking towards you

“FUCK OFF NO” you ran behind George and used him as a shield

“y/n George isn’t going to protect you”

“I will y/n don't worry tubbo fuck off” the three of you stood laughing not realising jack was walking towards you all with the ice cream

“thank you”

“you’re welcome how’s the ice cream”

“great thank you”

you laughed at jack who somehow managed to get ice cream on his nose

•••

you and tubbo noticed a wishing well and walked over to it

“wanna make a wish”

“yeah but we have no money”

you both looked at each other then at jack them looked back at each other and nodded

“what are you two doing”

“We wanna make a wish”

“come on give me your money”

everyone stood laughing at you and tubbo determined to make a wish whilst jack argued he had no money however tubbo noticed a £20 note and grabbed it

“y/n quick make a wish”

the pair of you held the note and then dropped it into the well

“yay!!”

“We made a wish”

the pair of you walked off whilst jack stood telling you both how he can’t believe you and the pair of you had stolen over £100 from him today making you both laugh

“tell me the wish”

“We can’t or it won’t come true”

•••

“right cave time”

“we’re going to die”

“well thanks for that George”

you stood next to tubbo trying to ignore your friends as they made comments about there being mobs like creepers in the cave

“you two really need to go outside more”

everything was going well for you until the worker said to everyone

“I think we do have some kids here who are doing a vlog”

you could feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment although you loved your job you still weren’t used to people pointing it out

•••

“This cave has a door”

“naturally formed door”

“y/n tubbo were in the caves, where are the diamonds”

you pointed in a random direction then continued walking whilst tubbo kneeled examining the rock claiming there were diamonds, as you all kept walking you had to put up with tubbo jack and George making Minecraft jokes whilst Niki followed behind them staying rather quiet, everyone’s as focusing on the cave not saying much till George spoke up

“it’s turned into a horror movie”

“why’s the cave so low why can’t they just dig up”

“y/n did you really just ask that”

“yes I did my neck hurts from ducking under the rock”

“so sorry to hear that”

“thank you for your concern George”

“I’m not concerned”

“oh-“

the tour continued and you were genuinely having a good time, you found all the different rocks and information given to you by the worker fascinating and slowly stopped listening to what your friends were saying behind you

“so this little tunnel up here is where they would send the kids”

“off you go tubbo and y/n”

“please no”

you all continued for a while till you were told you were going in the dark despite the fact you were excited you were also very afraid of the dark so stood closer to tubbo who instantly noticed and pulled you into a side hug

“we’re going dark”

“oh wow that is the only source of light”

a minute or so later they turned on some softly coloured led lights so you could all look at the geode

“holy shit that’s beautiful”

“I thought a geode was a small animal”

“that’s a pokemon dude”

you were all given time to go for a wander however rather than walking with the others you decided to stay with the geode and started a group call with ranboo and Tommy

“hi guys can’t stay long break is almost over”

“that’s okay Tommy but look at this giant fucking rock”

you flipped the camera so they could see and went around showing them parts of the cave

“holy shit”

“looks great y/n”

“cool right I have to go the worker wants us to get ready to leave see you all soon”

“wait y/n one last question, how are you with heights”

“oooh I’m great I love them we went in a cable car earlier”

“awesome see you all later”

*Tommy left the call*

“I’ll call you when I get home boo I’ll see you soon!!”

“bye y/n stay safe”

*ranboo has left the call*

*y/n has left the call*

as you all left the cave you and tubbo noticed two rocks and went to pick them up

“hey look our wish came true”

“yeah we wished for a weird looking rock when we left the cave”

“you paid £20 for a rock”

“yes”

a few minutes later you and tubbo just started walking away only to be later followed by everyone else

“where are you going”

•••

you all got the cable car back at this point you were exhausted you used all your energy running around the cave determined to show Tommy and ranboo everything

“What did you all think of the cave”

“loved it”

“you lost your rock tubbo?”

tubbo pulled out the rock and smiled at jack

“no, I didn’t”

“but you chucked it”

“told you we wished for a magic rock”

jack finished the recording and you all just sat talking about your day and any future plans

•••

the journey back home was extremely quiet you and tubbo sat next to each other, you fell asleep with your head resting on his shoulder, Niki sat in the front with jack quietly singing along to the radio and George and tubbo quietly spoke to each other trying not to wake you up.

when you finally got home you woke up on your couch confused as to how you got there it was only when you checked your phone you got the answer

Niki: you looked exhausted we didn’t want to wake you, hope you don’t mind. your keys are on the table next to your bag!! see you soon it was lovely meeting you <3

you decided to reply thanking your friends for today.

•••

*incoming call: ranboo*

you accepted the call

“hey y/n tell me all about your day whilst you get ready to stream I'm already set up”

“oh they’re gonna be so annoyed I've joined in with making jokes about you being in the UK anyway so my day was pretty good but I did end up asleep on my couch and had no idea how I got there”

“heh?”

“let me explain”

[janeofcakes]

Soulmate: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 2

Hello, my friends! I come to you today knowing there is but one burning question in your minds today: What will Gracie and Olive get up to next? Okay, maybe two: When the hell will John and Sherlock meet, Jane? Tell me. Tell me now! Haha. Patience, my lovelies. You know I can't write a story without stringing you along for a while first. I am very firmly on the naughty list and like our dear friend, Martin Freeman I cannot abide being on anyone's nice list. Mwahaha.

I also wanted to say that the next few chapters are not as long as the first. There was so much to get through in that one. I hope you aren't disappointed. The good news is my typing and editing are going well so I should be able to keep my weekend schedule. Hooray!Happy reading. Jane

----

Gracie casts a side look at Olive from where she sits on the jungle gym. It is afternoon break and the two girls just climbed frantically up the poles and bars to sit at the top for a rest after running themselves ragged all over the playground pretending to be Nancy Drew and George Fayne solving a mystery. Every day since Monday has gone more or less the same way. They play together for morning break, talk at lunch and play again in the afternoon. They write notes on one another’s notebooks during lessons, but manage not to disrupt class or miss instruction. It has been a truly amazing first week of school, better than Gracie could have ever imagined.

Gracie looks at Olive again and feels her throat swell. It’s like she has known Olive forever. They seem to always understand each other and be in perfect sync. Gracie has talked about nothing else at home and has even dreamed about playing with Olive each night. Olive has told her all kinds of things about London and its history. Tower Bridge, London Bridge, the National Theatre, but what Gracie is most interested in seeing is the Tower of London. She asked her father just last night if they could go sometime to see the old castle and the crown jewels. She can’t wait to see and do everything, and it would be even better if Olive could come along for some of it. London is much more exciting than Bath ever was, hands down!

“Gracie,” Olive begins in a lazy tone, “how do you feel about bees?”

Turning to face her friend fully, Gracie furrows her brow and frowns. Olive does not react to the movement and continues looking at something in the distance, or perhaps at nothing at all. Gracie says nothing at first, wondering if Olive had been talking before and all Gracie heard was the bee question. The taller girl finally turns her head and fixes the blonde with an inquisitive gaze. Gracie frowns as she considers the question. She is not really partial to any insect, nor is she upset by them. 

“They’re all right, I guess,” Gracie shrugs. “They make honey, so there’s that.”

“Mm…” Olives hums in approval. “True.”

Gracie raises her brows, every inch of her face asking ‘What are you on about?’. Olive blinks and seems to realize she was lost in her own mind, leaving Gracie with absolutely no context for the question.

“That’s what my dad wants to do when he retires,” Olive explains. “Beekeeping. In Sussex, probably.”

Oh no. This can’t be happening. Gracie just met Olive and had the best week of her life and now she’s going to lose her to bees?!

“You’d leave London then?” Gracie chokes on the words, not even trying to hide her distress.

“Yeah,” Olive answers absently, playing with the end of her long braid. “He says they’re fascinating.”

Gracie’s whole body tenses and her stomach roils. She feels sick and a bit dizzy when she glances away from Olive to a girl laughing wildly on the swings. It’s like a bad dream spiraling out of control to the soundtrack of that girl’s mad laughter. Gracie bites her lip hard to ground herself and looks back at Olive.

“Is he close to retiring?” Gracie forces out, beads of sweat beginning to collect at her temples.

“What? No,” Olive huffs a laugh and looks at Gracie again. “He’s definitely old, but not ancient. He has too much fun working anyway. Hey, are you okay?”

“Fun?” Gracie asks incredulously, ignoring her friend’s inquiry. “At a crime scene?”

“Oh, yeah, he loves it,” Olive laughs, seeing Gracie begin to relax. “He loves a good mystery. Locked room murders are his favorite.”

“Wow,” Gracie mutters, only half understanding what that means.

“He used to have a partner, you know,” Olive adds with a grin. “He loved it even more then.”

“So he had his own Clue Crew?” excited energy vibrates through Gracie’s body as she pictures a grown up and male version of Olive with a man and woman posed behind him like on Charlie’s Angels. Gracie’s dad loves old shows and movies, so she has seen her fair share. James Bond is his favorite. She makes a note to ask Olive if she has ever seen any of them.

“Not a crew,” the brunette corrects. “Just the one partner. They solved all kinds of cases together. They were best friends.”

“Like us?”

“Yep, exactly like us,” Olive says with a flash of teeth. Gracie grins too and is about to ask about Bond when something else pops to the forefront of her mind.

“Oh! It’s like my dad’s bedtime stories!” Gracie blurts eagerly. “Sam Williams and Dean Jensen. They’re best friends and solve crimes together. That’s how I got started on Nancy Drew in the first place. Dad’s read some of the old ones to me.”

“Really?” Olive cries. “Oh! Oh! Mystery of the 99 Steps?”

“That’s my favorite!” Gracie shrieks, her hands flying to her cheeks.

“Mine too!” Olive gasps.

“Girls,” the teacher on duty calls up to them from the ground below. They look down at her, all wide eyes and smiles. “Time to go back inside.”

They climb down as the teacher walks away to tell other kids. The two girls bound towards the school, slowing to a walk as they get closer. Gracie feels something brush against her hand and glances at it just in time to see Olive’s longer fingers wrap around it. She shifts her wide eyes to her friend’s, barely able to contain her joy.

“We should get our dads to read us the same old Nancy Drew book, a chapter each night,” Olive tells her conspiratorially. “Then we can compare notes the next day and see if we can solve it before Nancy.”

“That’s the best idea!” Gracie crows. “We can figure out which one during library time.”

“And then you check it out,” Olive says decisively. “Mrs. Hudson has all of them. I can borrow it from her.”

“Ok,” Gracie agrees, already knowing so much about Olive’s godmother that she doesn’t even question the woman would have the whole series. Honestly, Gracie wants to meet her almost as much as she wants to meet Olive’s detective father.

The two girls giggle for a moment at their new plan and then skip into the school building.

***

Saturday afternoon finds Gracie hand in hand with Candace McCleary, a nanny John handpicked while Gracie was still in Bath. They met the day after Gracie arrived last week and she instantly fell in love with Candace, much to John’s relief. Candace would not be a live-in nanny, but is employed like one. John needs her to get Gracie from school and stay with her until he gets home in the evenings. He also needs her to be available at a moment’s notice for when an emergency, like the birth of a baby, arises. John had warned his daughter after Angela Taylor’s check-up on Wednesday that he thought the baby would come early and probably at a most inconvenient time. Sure enough, he received the call just as he started lunch. Gracie was disappointed that her first trip to Hanover Gate Children’s Playground in Regent’s Park would be without her father, but was still over the moon when Candace was happy to take her. She had been looking forward to it almost all week.

“Oh my gosh!” Gracie exclaims as she and Candace approach the playground. There is equipment everywhere to climb and swing on and slide down. Gracie immediately decides the sandpit is first on her list. A tall tree stands in its center with wooden bridges and walkways built all around it. Rope ladders and nets offer admittance and there is even a hammock to sit on. “Candace, this is amazing! This is the best park ever!”

“Why don’t you jump right in?” the woman laughs. “I’ll just be right on this bench if you need me.”

Candace points to an empty green bench as she speaks and starts heading for it before someone else claims it. Gracie calls out her agreement and makes a b-line for the nearest rope ladder. She is up it in seconds and running across a bouncy bridge, laughing all the way. She runs the whole course, turns right back around and does it again. There are quite a few kids in this part of the park, but it’s still easy to work her way around them. After a few more laps on the equipment, a small group of kids asks Gracie to play tag. She recognizes them from school and accepts.

A good hour later, two of the kids have to go home and Gracie is exhausted. She begs off, having had her mind set on playing in the sand since she and Candace got there. Plopping down in a shady spot, she plunges her hands beneath the beige and brown grains. The sand is cool and dry and feels soft in between her fingers, not like the rough sand that is sometimes used in parks. It’s like the white sand from a beach. She has half a mind to pull her shoes off and let her feet sink into its depths. Gracie closes her eyes and wiggles her fingers, feeling the sand move around them like a favorite blanket. She opens her eyes as she curls her fingers around the tiny grains and watches them slip through when she lifts her hands. 

Gracie does this again and again until she grabs a stick and begins to drag it through the sand like a plow. At one point, she makes a short trench and plants sunflower seeds and raisins from the snack baggy in her pocket. She pats the sand with satisfaction after covering them and looks toward the bench where Candace sits. She waves and her nanny waves back. Gracie giggles and gets to her knees, but stops when a figure just sitting down on the hammock suddenly blocks her view of Candace.

“What the…” Gracie mutters, her mouth falling open in disbelief. She gets to her feet and runs straight for the rope hammock and its occupant, who hears her footfalls and looks up with blue-grey eyes.

“Gracie!” Olive cries in surprise as her friend trips in the sand and drops face-first next to the hammock. “Gracie?”

“I’m okay,” the blonde girl declares, pushing herself up and standing quickly. The two girls lock eyes and start laughing. “What are you doing here?”

“We come every weekend,” Olive replies, pulling Gracie onto the woven rope. “Our flat’s just that way.”

“Really?” Gracie gasps with a delighted squeak. She points in the opposite direction. “Mine’s that way.”

“No way!” Olive shouts with glee. “That’s amazing! I had no idea we lived so close.”

“I know right,” Gracie exclaims, beginning to rock the hammock a bit. Olive unfolds her legs to hang them down and help push. “What are the odds?”

“Well,” Olive considers, adopting her contemplative face. Gracie knows instantly that a deduction is coming. She giggles and her smile widens as she watches her best friend. “Since we go to the same school, it seems fairly likely that we would live close together because it’s usually based on geography. However, it’s a bit different with public school. Kids can come from all parts of London as long as they have the money to pay.”

“Oh my god,” Gracie can barely contain her excitement and she stamps a foot on the ground a few times. “We could play here every weekend! I’m sure I could get Dad to bring me.”

“Yes! Let’s set it up now,” Olive sits up straight, ready to jump off the netting. “Is your dad here?”

“No, he had to deliver a baby,” Gracie rolls her eyes. Olive makes a dismissive noise that sounds like she just opened an air-tight container and sinks back into the hammock “Exactly. I mean, babies are important and all, but now he has to wait another week to see all this.”

Gracie swings her arms out wide and tilts her head skyward before flopping unceremoniously onto her back. Olive lets herself tip backwards as well and they soon lie side by side, looking up at the clouds. Gracie points out one that looks like a panda and proceeds to tell her friend all sorts of facts about pandas.

“I even have a panda,” she finishes.

“You do?” Olive asks, her eyes widen with wonder. 

“Since I was three,” Gracie nods. “She’s my favorite stuffie. She’s called Pandy and I sleep with her every night.”

“I have a bee,” Olive says without hesitation. “I call him Wellington, sometimes Wellies for short.”

“Do you like bees as much as your dad does?” Gracie is curious because Wellington might have been a gift like Pandy was, but it certainly sparked her interest in pandas. 

“I don’t think anyone could like them as much as Dad,” Olive huffs a laugh, “but yeah, I definitely like them too. It’s amazing how they make honey and their whole society and all.”

“Wow. Would you tell me?” Gracie fixes her with a serious gaze and licks her lips. “I loooove honey.”

“Sure, and you can tell me more about pandas,” Olive grins and points to a medium-sized cloud. “That one looks like a catapult.”

Gracie cocks a brow and follows her finger to a cloud that, amazingly enough, does resemble a rudimentary catapult.

The afternoon passes as the two girls tell each other stories and make up new games, their favorite being pirates sailing their hammock boat across the sea to a mysterious island. They leave their spot at this point to explore sandy beaches, nearly being vanquished by a giant hippo and almost losing Olive beneath quicksand. Gracie keeps her head about her and is always within Candace’s line of sight, and it’s a good thing too because the two girls are interrupted as tea time nears.

“I knew I’d find you here,” a low rumble of a voice comes from behind Gracie where she sits facing Olive. They have just dug up a treasure of sunflowers and raisins, a very valuable find on the sea. Their eyes grow wide as a menacing laugh fills the air around them. Gracie swallows hard and turns slowly to see the towering silhouette of a man in a billowy black coat. She shields her eyes, but with the sun behind him, she cannot make out his features. He probably has an eye patch and everything.

“What are you doing on my island?” the man demands as he steps closer. Gracie gasps and pushes herself backwards toward Olive to get away from the dark figure only just coming into focus.

“Hi, girls. Is everything okay?” Candace McCleary asks from the right and Gracie glances at her gratefully. Her trusty companion must have bolted from her park bench as soon as the giant appeared. Now she stands alert as though ready to pounce and Gracie breathes a sigh of relief. She hadn’t even seen this man until it was too late. Gracie grits her teeth and silently berates herself as her father’s words about being observant come to mind.

“Uhhh…” Gracie finds her voice, but it comes out as a meek croak. Meanwhile, Olive leaps up next to her and runs for the figure with open arms. Gracie gapes, sure she is about to see her friend eaten before her very eyes.

“Daddy!” Olive cries, launching herself into the man’s arms. Gracie blinks and it is like a cloud has moved from where it had covered the sun. The giant, no longer in the shadows, transforms into a tall man wearing a nice suit with no tie and a long coat. Gracie finds herself marveling at the fact that he doesn’t appear to be hot in the slightest and momentarily wonders if he has ice in his pockets, but stops all speculation when she sees his face. Angles and cheeks like Olive, dark curls and the same grey eyes that seem to change from green to blue and back. The corners of Gracie’s mouth turn up and a sense of ease washes over her.

“Is it time to go already?” Olive is speaking at a mile a minute. “We only just started playing pirates. Can Gracie come home with us? We’re having Thai for dinner. I bet she’ll like it.”

The tall man chuckles at his daughter and the sound is like a really warm blanket, soft and comfy. He glances at Candace and settles his gaze on Gracie. She bristles for a moment at those all-seeing eyes. It’s true they are like Olive’s, but much wiser. Gracie has the feeling he is learning much more from just watching her than anyone else can. She’s not entirely sure how she feels about that, but supposes it’s why Olive is so perceptive and she loves her. Besides, this is her dad. Gracie feels like she knows him already after all the stories she has heard.

“Ah, so this is the infamous Gracie,” Sherlock says surreptitiously with a look in Olive’s direction. The girl smiles broadly and nods while Gracie smiles a little timidly. His chin dips in greeting. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

“I know a lot about you too,” Gracie replies as she rises, finding her tenacity again.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Sherlock answers. He turns his attention to Candace, who still looks a touch uneasy. “And this is your friend?”

“Yeah,” Gracie confirms enthusiastically. “This is Candace.”

She jumps up and grabs Olive’s hand, pulling her toward the young woman.

“And this is Olive,” she exclaims.

“Oh,” the last traces of suspicion vanish from Candace’s eyes and she gestures at the girls. “Of course. You’re Olive. Gracie has been telling me about you all week.” “And this is my dad,” Olive introduces. “Sher…”

“William,” Sherlock interrupts, offering his hand. Candace steps forward and takes it in a firm shake. “Will.”

“Nice to meet you,” Candace replies, not noticing the quizzical look on Olive’s face, but Gracie sees. She also sees Sherlock glance at his daughter and communicate something that clears the confusion from Olive’s mind in an instant. Gracie tilts her head in thought, considering this new information. She and John can do that sometimes too. It makes her that much more certain that Olive is meant to be her best friend.

“It’s quite a coincidence them meeting in the park like this,” Candace is saying when Gracie emerges from her thoughts. “Do you live around here?”

“Yes, just on Baker Street,” Sherlock answers politely, but with a tinge of the tone Olive has when she mutters that something is obvious. Gracie lets out a quick giggle.

“Oh, right,” Candace nods with a friendly smile. “That’s not far at all. Maybe we’ll see you here again.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Sherlock looks down at the two girls, both of which are very excited. Olive is almost dancing in place and Gracie would swear she needed the toilet if she didn’t know better. “We’re here every Saturday just after lunch.”

“Perfect,” Candace says. “That’s about when we arrived. I’ll let her father know too. He’ll usually be the one who brings her.”

“He had a baby to deliver,” Gracie supplies. “He’s a doctor.”

“So Olive tells me,” Sherlock tells her with a certain mirth in his tone. “I would very much like to meet him, especially now that I’ve met you.”

“He’s wanted to all week,” Olive exclaims, giving Gracie’s hand a squeeze. “Ever since the first day.”

“I just can’t believe we ran into each other like this,” Candace declares, still a little dumbfounded.

Gracie doesn’t hear Sherlock’s response because Olive leans in close to whisper in her ear how great it will be when their fathers meet. The blonde nods her head vigorously and they laugh together quietly.

“Oh my, it’s nearly tea time,” Candace says to her watch. “I have to get her home. Are you ready, Gracie?”

“I guess so,” the girl pouts. She throws her arms around Olive in a huge hug. “I can’t wait to see you on Monday.”

Gracie gasps and looks at Olive with wide eyes, her hands still clamped around her arms.

“I’m going to write you a special note tomorrow and make a comic with my favorite markers,” she announces with glee. “They smell like strawberries and grapes and stuff.”

“Oh, wow!” Olive hoots. “I’ll make one of my maps for you.”

“It could be of this park!” Gracie shouts as Candace’s mobile sounds. She pulls it from her pocket and glances at its screen, pressing the surface to turn off the alarm.

“We really have to be going,” Candace says apologetically. “It was so nice to meet you both.”

“And you as well,” Sherlock dips his chin in farewell as Candace takes Gracie’s hand and leads her away.

“Bye, Gracie!” Olive calls, waving madly.

“Bye!” the blonde shouts back.

Olive waves for a good thirty seconds and then turns to face her father with her arms crossed over her chest. She raises a brow expectantly and Sherlock knows precisely why, but says nothing.

“Let’s go, shall we?” he begins walking toward home, knowing she will follow. “I believe Mrs. Hudson is making fresh biscuits.”

“What was that about, Dad?” Olive asks in disbelief, already matching his steps. “Why William?”

“You know I use aliases at times,” Sherlock replies without looking at her.

“Yeah, for cases, but these aren’t criminals,” Olive insists. “These are my friends.”

“I know, love,” he turns his head to see her earnest expression looking up at him. “I just don’t want to prejudice Gracie’s father.”

“What’s prejudice?” Olive furrows her brow as she repeats the word.

“Well, you know my profession can be dangerous,” Sherlock begins.

“Yeah…” Olive says slowly, eyeing him curiously.

“A lot of people know that because they see my name in the media,” he explains. “I don’t want Gracie’s father to hear my name and assume Gracie will be in danger. I’m concerned he will get the wrong impression and feel uncomfortable about you being friends.”

“Oh,” Olive says flatly as if she hadn’t considered that. They walk in silence for a moment until she speaks up again. He knew she would. She is too smart and inquisitive not to have follow-up questions. “So what are you going to do when we’ve been friends for months and it’s time to tell them your real name? Say ‘By the way, my name is really Sherlock Holmes.’?”

Sherlock gives her a withering look and says nothing. Her jaw drops and she shoves him lightly.

“Dad! You can’t NOT tell them,” Olive insists. She bends at the knees slightly to emphasize the word not. “It’s dishonest. Dad, it’s lying.”

“Sometimes we lie for the greater good,” Sherlock tells her curtly.

“Now you sound like Mycroft,” Olive sneers and that stops Sherlock dead in his tracks. He turns to face her, dropping into a squat and meeting her eyes.

“I would do anything for you, Olive,” he says sincerely, resting his hands on her shoulders. She curls the corner of her mouth and cocks a brow.

“Dad,” Olive begins matter-of-factly, “I know that and I would do anything for you too, but you told me I couldn’t lie.”

“Yes. Yes, I did,” Sherlock sighs and then continues resolutely. “You’re right. I’ll introduce myself properly when we meet Gracie’s father. Okay?”

“Okay,” Olive grins and they walk again, hand in hand.

“Olive?” Sherlock says, glancing her way. She looks up at him in answer. “Don’t compare me to Mycroft again.”

Olive lets out a quiet chortle and tightens her grip on his fingers. 

“Desperate measures,” she replies more than a little pleased with herself. Sherlock puffs a quick breath through his nose and smirks as they walk on. Like father, like daughter.

---

What the hell, Jane?? I know what you said at the beginning, but this is unfair. Gracie and Candace get to meet Sherlock, but not John?! I want the boys to meet again! NOW! So sorry, my friends, but you'll have to wait a bit longer. Worry not, it will happen. Eventually. (insert evil smile, cruel chuckle and holding of fingertips together like Mr. Burns) Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[silverducks]

Jaime Lannister – A theory on his ending in the books

So, as you can probably tell from my blog, I’m not quite yet over the ending of Game of Thrones, which I binged watched and finished about a month and a half ago now.

The main issue is the ending, or the last 3 episodes to be more precise, where so many things didn’t make a whole lot of sense. The main one being, for me, how the story ended for Jaime Lannister.

So, whilst writing all my super long character analysis for Jaime is definitely helping, (I’m about half way through the next one), I’ve also been reading about possible ways his story could go, and how it might end in the books.

And today I came across a theory I really, really like. It’s become my new headcanon for what will happen in the books and I’ve added a mix of other theories I’ve read to it as well.

Now, show and book spoilers beneath the cut.

First off, I’d like to say I haven’t yet read the books, so this post is based on the show and what I’ve read happens in the books. None of these theories are my own, but I’ve combined them all together in a way that actually makes a lot of sense to me. So until the books prove me wrong – or I come across an even better theory, this is my new headcanon.

(I don’t have any links as they’re random posts/comments etc I’ve found on the net on my phone, but I’m not claiming these ideas as my own, just putting it all together, so I hope the lack of links to source is ok.)

So without any further preamble, the theory is that Jaime and Tyrion’s story arcs and endgame in the book were reversed in the show. This would mean that the main plot points the writer, George R.R. Martin (GRRM) told the screenwriters (D&D), were swapped around between the two characters.

That would mean that it would be Jaime who became the hand of the King, not Tyrion, and Jaime who put forward the idea of the Bran becoming King.

And I love this theory, because it would be such a fitting end for Jaime. And below I will explain why.

Firstly, the idea of Jaime becoming the Hand of the King for Bran is a wonderful final step in his character arc – he’s gone from throwing this kid out of a tower to try and kill him, to serving as his main advisor, trusted with the power and command of the King. Jaime and Bran’s character arcs are already connected, much more than Tyrion’s ever was, and for the similar reason why Bran gave it to Tyrion, he could give it to Jaime – in fact it makes more sense!

And rather than a redemptodeath for Jaime, he doesn’t have to die, and can instead have a fulfilling life, continually making up for past wrongs as the Hand, and with the real love of his life, Brienne. She could still be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, as per the show, but married to Jaime (they’d change that outdated celibacy/non marriage rule easily enough), giving her a much more satisfying ending. And why does Jaime have to die? He’s atoned for his past wrongs, lost that darn hand that (symbolically in the show), did push Bran out the window, and it doesn’t serve any other higher story telling purpose… And by becoming the Hand of the King, after he lost the hand that hurt said King, is even more symbolic.

I know Jaime has refused to be Hand before, but that was old Jaime. And if we assume Jaime continues on his road to self-betterment, then he can continue to learn and improve the skills that would make a good Hand. He’s becoming more honourable, but has seen enough of the world to know sometimes there’s a conflicting choice (unlike Ned in series one). He’s been learning to rely on his own wits and brains much more since he can’t now just fight his way out of everything – and is proving pretty smart. He is proving to be a good commander of the army and has been a Lord Commander for the Kingsguard. And has enough Lannister cunning, but with actual mercy and honour, to make it work. A stark King with a Lannister Hand!

Imagine, ending the very first episode of the show with Jaime pushing Bran out that window, to ending with Jaime by his side, advising (and also of course) protecting him. How good is a full circle/reflection piece for Jaime as that!

And in a similar vein, Jaime can be the one to put forward to the council of Lords (I assume something similar happens in the books, but much better written), that Bran should be King. That being the all-knowing Three Eyed Raven means he’s a good match. And surely the other Lords would more likely listen to Jaime – who is a good commander – than Tyrion, who hasn’t really won over many of the Lords in Westeros. After all, he was sentenced to death for killing a King (they don’t know it was a set up), and also killed his father and escaped. He’s been in a foreign land serving a foreign (to them anyway) ruler who has just sacked their Capitol city. Doesn’t it just make so much more sense that they’d listen to an alive Jaime? Yes he killed the King too, but he also did a lot of other good stuff as per his redemption arc etc.

Anyway, I just think it makes more sense – and then the Kingslayer Jaime, becomes the Kingmaker Jaime – again another wonderful full circle arc for him.

So, from a storytelling theme, symbolism and arc perspective, I think it just makes so much sense!

But when you also look at the show itself, in comparison to the books and where the show sort of went wrong, it makes more sense too.

So, just to give a bit of background on it, the theory I read today about Jaime and Tyrion’s role reversal was in a post mainly looking at how Tyrion’s character seems to be going in a very different direction in the books versus the show.

The idea is that book Tyrion is in a much darker place in the books than show Tyrion, and this, in the upcoming books, could continue. This could send book Tyrion down a difficult, morally dark path, which could result in him becoming more of a villain type character, perhaps taking on more and more of his father’s bad traits. This makes sense to me, as Tyrion was most like his father and was certainly cunning. And where the books start to properly deviate from the show, after series four, Tyrion could go either way. He has just killed his father and his lover. And in the books he also falls out with Jaime when Jaime tells him the truth about his first wife (that she wasn’t a whore like Tywin said). Being in this foreign land with all these dark thoughts and deeds haunting him, I can definitely see him turning into more of a bad guy.

So, basically, a completely different story arc for Tyrion.

In terms of his endgame? Well, if he’s swapped with Jaime’s then I guess it means he might die. Maybe after killing Cersei, hence them dying “together.” Or at least be punished such as sent to the Wall or something. I don’t think GRRM said either Lannister brother actually dies in Cersei’s loving arms, so I’m guessing they took some differences in both Jaime’s and Tyrion’s endgame, if the theory is correct.

And I’m tempted to believe it is, because it helps explain Tyrion’s kind of dodgy characterisation in the later series of the show. He just wasn’t really the same after series four, which at the time, I just put down to D&D not being clever enough writers to write a clever character such as Tyrion. But with this theory, it actually makes more sense. Tyrion was such a fan favourite character in the show, the underdog, clever, snarky good guy, I can understand why D&D didn’t want to take him down this other, darker path. In the books, there’s much more time and details and PoVs to make it work, whereas the show would struggle, especially against such a popular fandom character.

It also explains why Jaime never told him the truth about his wife, or they had their big fall out in the show.

And by changing Tyrion’s story arc so much, they didn’t really know what to replace it with (I think we all agree D&D are not the best writers), so his characterisation was not only off in later series, but it meant they took Jaime’s end game and gave it to Tyrion instead. And this further makes sense as they might have thought having just Cersei (a female) the only bad Lannister at the end was too much, especially when one of the other main female characters, Dany, was also going bad. So, they made Jaime “hateful” in the end to better match and even out Cersei, because it was supposed to be Tyrion…

(I do think D&D were also unhealthily obsessed with Cersei and Twincest, so they probably thought it have them an extra good reason.)

And there’s a really good reflection in this between the two brothers – Jaime starts out the villain, but ends up the underdog hero, Tyrion starts out the underdog hero, but ends up the villain.

But, in changing Tyrion’s character, if indeed it does, it then also has a knock on effect for so many other things.

The theory also said that he might negatively influence Dany, when they meet. For example, help to slowly bring out her suppressed mad/dark side, encourage her to take Kings Landing (which the theory points out Tyrion actually ends up hating because of how the people there view him.) So perhaps if Tyrion’s influence is so vengeful in the books, maybe’s Dany’s own turn to madness makes much more sense. And the lack of Tyrion’s negative influence in the show, undermines this. And this could then make Jon’s decision to have to kill her much harder etc.

So, I do think it’s quite possible, looking at Tyrion’s side, that they gave him a very different story arc, and so had to swap it up with Jaime’s endgame.

The show has certainly mixed and matched up characters from the book, so this would help explain why the main beats are still GRRMs, but why they didn’t just work for some of the characters. So not completely made up and ruined, but they just weren’t able to make the pieces fit together properly in their changed version. (And I do think they could have easily done a much better job, so I’m not letting D&D off the hook.)

Now, back to Jaime, because as much as I love all the characters, I’ll be honest, it’s only really Jaime and Brienne who I obsess enough over to properly theorise about.

Why do I think this works so well for Jaime? Well, first off, the whole him dying in Cersei’s arms just does not make any sense at all to me (hence all my super long posts about it). Especially if we take into account how over Cersei show Jaime seems in series 8, until that scene in episode 4. He behaves like he’s completely cut ties with her, fallen out of love with her and has fallen truly in love with someone else instead – Brienne. This is even more obvious in the books, where Jaime actually burns Cersei’s letter where she’s begging for help. And when he looks back on it later, he’s dreading retuning to Kings Landing and facing her. In fact, he thinks that Cersei might well die, but there’s nothing he can do anyway and perhaps she deserves it. Granted we do have 2 more books to go, but this is like the complete opposite of his ending in series 8, that I think it’s highly unlikely it was meant to happen in the books. A LOT of stuff would have to happen for book Jaime to change his mind now.

But as they gave Jaime’s ending to Tyrion, as per our theory, then what do they do with Jaime? Well, why not have him die in Cersei’s arms and fulfil their Twincest fix. Have Jaime be the bad brother Lannister, not Tyrion.

In fact, I don’t think D&D knew what to do with Jaime either, as he changes so abruptly in the show. It’s like they had to try to cover Jaime’s actual plot points from GRRM (which I’d assume were things like fighting the dead, getting together with Brienne), but then suddenly have him change his mind and rush back to Cersei... Also, as much as I loved Jaime in early series 8, he doesn’t really do anything pivotal. If you take him out of the equation and have him never even in series 8, the actual storylines all stay the same anyway. So, for me, this further adds weight to the idea that, in swapping Jaime’s endgame with Tyrion, they were left with the same problem, what do we then do with Jaime?

It’s like other aspects – they try to change one thing, but by changing that, it affects everything else so what you’re left with doesn’t make sense for the characters.

Now, so far I’ve talked mainly about the show, because overall I do think the main plot points in the show will happen in the books. And if you consider the role reversal between Tyrion and Jaime, it makes more sense why what happened did happen (which makes no sense in the show story itself).

But this is where I start to tie the various theories I’ve read together – it also makes a lot of sense in the books, for Jaime to not die, but instead be Bran’s Hand.

Other than the wonderful symmetry we’d get, as mentioned above, there’s a few things that happen in Jaime’s arc just in the books that make it even more possible, which I’ll talk about now.

So, most of this comes from Jaime’s fever dream, or also called his Weirwood dream. Now, there’s lots of analysis on this dream on the net, and there’s lots of ideas, some conflicting, of what it could mean. It’s not all relevant to this particular theory, so I’ll just summarise it. Basically, in the books, Jaime doesn’t go back to save Brienne from the bear straight away. Instead he travels quite far away with Bolton’s men, and goes to sleep on, what we assume, is a Weirwood stump. At the same time, Jaime is also suffering from a fever due to his hand becoming infected. Now, that means he’s potentially delirious, but also the dream is potentially prophetic. The Weirwood trees are those magic trees that Bran uses to have visions and to find the first Three Eyed Raven. I’m sure there’s more about them in the books as well. But it’s this potential for it being prophetic that I’m most interested in here.

Ok, so the dream starts a bit like a nightmare – Jaime is led somewhere underground that’s dark and feels dangerous by lots of ghosts. He first assumes it’s under Casterly Rock, and indeed he thinks he’s surrounded by the ghosts of the Lannister family. He’s scared and naked (eg vulnerable) and his father, sister and Joeffrey come. Cersei is holding a torch – the only light in the world for Jaime, but they leave and Jaime is left scared again in the dark. Before they go, he begs them for a sword, which Tywin says he gave him, and he begs Cersei to not leave him. Jaime finds a sword and as he touches it, the blade flames blue, providing some light. Now, a lot of analysis on this part of the dream tie it to Jaime’s metaphorical death, (ie of the old Jaime going to Hell) or breaking away from his family so they leave him. The light of Cersei’s going out, and instead a new light on Jaime’s sword coming, could also then symbolise that he’s breaking away (or about to) from Cersei and finding himself, his own light, instead. I also think, as we know Tywin and Joeffrey die later in the books and show, that it’s also foretelling their deaths. Which means it’s likely that Cersei dies before Jaime in the books, hence why he leaves her and he can’t follow. So this firstly means Jaime can’t die in Cersei’s arms.

Now, the next bit of the dream gets interesting, because who shows up next, after Cersei and his family has gone? Brienne of course! She appears (also naked) and Jaime imagines she looks not only more like a woman now, but also that in the light she could also be beauty, and a knight. This is generally taken to show Jaime’s growing (and so far subconscious) attraction to Brienne – and that he sees her as both a warrior and a woman. Now she asks for a sword, and also asks to be able to keep him safe, as she has pledged this and must keep her oath. A sword appears and Jaime gives it to her, and it also starts burning with blue flames.

Now, I think these two swords represent Oathkeeper (the one Jaime gives to Brienne in series four) and Widow’s Wail, which Jaime gets after Tommen dies in series 7. And these are two Valyrian steel swords that were from the melted down sword Ice, which used to be Neds. Now, I don’t think this is coincidental, but again I’ll come back to this.

Brienne is there to help protect Jaime, but she also asks him what’s down in this dark place (which may or may not still symbolise Casterly Rock or another place). Jaime says doom, and Brienne is worried it’s a bear (foreshadowing her being in the bear pit later). We hear, but don’t see Cersei saying that if the flames go out, Jaime will die.

In the next part of the dream ghostly, mist like figures appear and Jaime recognises them as his former Kingsguard and then Rhaeger, the heir to the throne before he was killed in Robert’s rebellion. These ghostly figures accuse Jaime of not keeping his oaths and seem about to attack. Jaime tries to plead with them and give his reasons, and Brienne is still there ready to defend him. These ghosts likely represent the internal guilt and self-hatred Jaime still has for killing the Mad King, but also for not saving Rhaeger’s own children, which were murdered on Tywin’s orders. As the ghost like figures continue to accuse Jaime, the flame on his own sword goes out, and the ghosts rush in, and then Jaime wakes up. As soon as he wakes up, pretty much, he demands Bolton’s men take him back to Harrenhal, where he then saves Brienne just like in the show.

Now, I read a lot of people saying this foretells Jaime’s death, that his flame goes out, but I disagree. I think the fact that Brienne has a matching flame, on a twin sword to his, means that Jaime doesn’t die – after all Cersei says flameS. Instead, I think this ending to the dream foretells that Brienne will actually save Jaime – that as long as she is alive, Jaime will also be.

Now, onto more foreshadowing theories from this dream – I think the ghostly, mist like figures also represent the White Walkers, and that him and Brienne are there facing them means that they will indeed (just like in the show) stand together to fight them in the books. As this has also happened after Cersei has left Jaime with his now dead father and son, I think it means she’ll already have died by this point.

I also think his guilt and the mention of Rhaegar’s children, which Jaime feels guilty about failing to protect, will also tie into Jon’s storyline. As the only surviving child of Rhaegar, I think once Jaime finds out, and Jon, Jaime will pledge himself to protect/serve Jon to make up for this guilt. I then think, based on this, that Jaime will effectively save Jon’s life in the battle with the White Walkers and then, Brienne will have to save Jaime’s. After all, she says in the dream she pledged to protect and save Jaime.

Now, the reason I think the end of the dream means Brienne saves Jaime, is not only because her flame keeps burning in the dream, but also because, as soon as Jaime wakes up, he decides he has to save Brienne. As we are going with the idea that this dream is prophetic from the Weirwood stump, it seems very important that Jaime rescues Brienne, so she can be there to fight with him. And what better reason than having to save him, when his own light (the sword flames) has failed?

And those swords – two halves of one whole, from Ice, the Stark’s sword. Turning into blue flames and helping them in the battle against the dead. Likely at or near Winterfell like in the show… When the books have a theory about a special sword called Lightbringer, wielded by the hero Azor Ahai to defeat the Others..

Soooo, perhaps this is really going into the realms of fan theory, but I definitely think that ICE could be Lightbringer, and that Brienne and Jaime, with Jon (who imo is the Azor Ahai character) will be imperative in helping to defeat the White Walkers. And that Jaime will fall in this battle, and Brienne will have to be there to save him so he doesn’t die.

Now, you might ask, what does all this random dream theorising mean for Jaime becoming the Hand of the King? Well, first of all I think it foreshadows that both Jaime and Brienne have a major part to play in the battle against the dead – much more than in the show. And that as Jaime is near death, it was super important for Brienne to be there to save him. And that it was super important for Jaime to give Brienne the sword Oathkeeper, and have Widow’s Wail himself – two halves of the same sword. So, all this must happen, and Brienne must save Jaime, which is why Jaime was given the prophetic dream in the first place. After all, if he hadn’t of saved Brienne, none of the above could go as it should…

And, this is where Bran comes in and this is more my own idea than anything else, so forgive me if I’m just not understanding the books properly. But as Bran himself sees visions through the Weirwood trees, which I suspect are due to them being sent either by the old Three Eyed Raven, or markers from Bran himself in the future, or perhaps fate or another unseen magical force. Then I wonder if the reason why Jaime was sent this vision, is because of Bran – and also the White Walkers. That Jaime had to help in the fight, but also had to be saved by Brienne. (Maybe even because it’s through his interactions with Brienne that he does become a better person and chooses to fight). And he had to be saved, because it was his destiny to be the Hand of the King to Bran. And also to save Jon so Jon can defeat the White Walkers. And that perhaps, this saving of Jon by Jaime is another reason why he is chosen as the Hand of the King.

I would also like to add in here, my other theories for book Jaime, which can lead him up to being Hand of the King, and tie up other loose ends in his story arc. So, the books and the show deviate a lot for Jaime after series four – he breaks away from Cersei much earlier and he’s currently off on an adventure in the Riverlands with Brienne in the books. A story arc not put into the show, featuring Lady Stoneheart (LSH). Now, she is a re-resurrected, zombie like version of Catelyn Stark, who is hell bent on revenge for the Freys and the Lannisters for the Red Wedding. She’s threatened Brienne with the death of Pod, unless she brings her Jaime. (At least that’s what most people infer from the books, it’s left open ended on a bit of a cliffhanger.

Now, my theory on this is that somehow Jaime and Brienne will have to fight each other in a trial by combat (echoed in the show itself by Brienne’s line about maybe having to fight Jaime). Of course they won’t be able to kill each other and will somehow be able to escape from, or kill Lady Stonehart.

So, why am I mentioning this? Well, GRRM himself has said he was disappointed they didn’t include the LSH plot in the show. Instead, D&D completely cut it out and sent Jaime to Dorne instead (as in series 5, which isn’t in the books). But for GRRM to say he wanted it in the show, makes me think there’s something very significant that is going to happen from it – either to the characters, or their relationship. Something which will later prove to be important in the rest of the story. This makes me think that Jaime and Brienne have a much bigger impact on the overall story arc than they were given in the show. And if it is more important, it makes the idea they’d have an important ending as well – Hand and LC of Kingsguard respectively – make more sense. And perhaps add more weight to the idea that Jaime HAD to save Brienne.

Now, after LSH, my idea is that Jaime will have to go back to Kings Landing and Cersei – but not in a romantic way. I think, like in the show, Jaime’s going to have a story arc that takes him on the role of commanding the Lannister’s forces against Dany’s when they get to Westeros. And if we assume Cersei does die before the battle with the undead, maybe this is also when Jaime kills Cersei – if he is the Valanqar, the one prophesised to kill Cersei. Or it could be someone else…

I then think the battle for Kings Landing will happen before that of the White Walkers, so Jaime then goes to help in the North, and catches up with Brienne again, who has been busy saving Sansa after her and Jaime parted ways (on good, but still unrealised and not yet acknowledged romantic terms) after LSH. I then think, like in the show, Jaime and Brienne will get together near the end, but this time not only will there be no Cersei for Jaime to rush back to (and throwing his character arc out the window like he does in the show), but he will still live to then become King Bran’s hand.

Of course, there’s still so many unknowns, and all, none or bits of this could happen, so I really hope we do get to see the last two books and find out what really happens.

But until then, I’m going to stick with the idea that Jaime marries Brienne, and becomes the Hand of the King and survives!

There, that’s the end of my theory – several all tied together really. I’d be interested to know what people think.

I know that my later reasons are more random ideas, but I do think, above all, the idea that Jaime is going to be the Hand of the King, not Tyrion, helps explain why the show didn’t really make sense for those characters (Jaime's 180 change at the end being the main one). But also just the wonderful symmetry of a redeemed Jaime fulfilling the role of Hand, for a King he once tried to kill, after he became a better person after losing his own hand…

[imagitory]

Obama was no trump, but he want spectacularly great either. All he did was fix the economy, let gay ppl get married, and try (and fail) to give us healthcare. Not that those things aren’t good, but he had 8 YEARS. And that’s all he did? The Obama cult on this site just needs to calm down

...Anon, I’m really sorry, but...I couldn’t completely bite back a laugh at that second sentence. XD; I’d say “fixing the economy” is a pretty significant feat, eight years or no -- and I’d say there are many gay Americans who are very happy that the Supreme Court decided to honor their civil rights and allow them to marry, regardless of what state they lived in. I’d also say that there are many, many people with preexisting health conditions who are rather happy that the Affordable Care Act became a thing -- if nothing else, when the Republicans tried to repeal “Obamacare” after Obama left office, they pissed off quite a lot of their constituents, who didn’t love the thought of being denied the coverage they received under Obama’s law, and ultimately those Republicans had to back down. And admittedly there are other significant net positives that one could point to as being part of Barack Obama’s legacy, such as ending the War in Iraq, repealing the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy, and giving the FDA the power to regulate the tobacco industry, as well as more understated things like acting and adding onto President Bush and Clinton’s policies on pandemic responses so that we weren’t affected by the H1N1/Swine Flu pandemic like other countries were. (I don’t think we could truly appreciate this until seeing how thoroughly Donald Trump has mismanaged things with Covid-19.) Then of course there’s just the fact that Obama acted infinitely more presidential and professional than his successor Donald Trump and (I would also argue) his predecessor George W. Bush did, in the way that he was incredibly well-spoken, intelligent, methodical in his word choices, and very cognizant of how other countries viewed him and therefore America and the people he represented. There are polls showing that internationally America was more respected under Obama than in Bush or especially Trump’s tenures, and that’s because Obama actively engaged in rational, respectful, diplomatic foreign policy more than either of those two Republican presidents.

I’m not going to act like Barack Obama was a perfect president or anything -- there are plenty of things I wish he’d fought harder for, like universal health care and gun control legislation at the federal level, and there are things he did I really didn’t approve of, like the shift toward drone strikes as a replacement to having troops on the ground. And yes, he had eight years as opposed to Trump’s four...but doesn’t that in itself say something? He did enough for the American people in four years to have earned a second term -- and honestly, I’ll take eight years under Barack Obama before eight years under George W. Bush any day of the friggin’ week, considering that Bush ran our economy into the ground and got us engaged in two wars in the Middle East, while Obama saved the economy and pulled us out of one war and started the withdrawal out of the second. And of course Donald Trump has already done more than enough damage in four years: I would hate to see what he could do if he somehow had gotten more time.

I honestly have never seen any sort of “cult-like” devotion toward Obama the way I most assuredly have for Trump despite his laundry list of failures and debilitating character flaws...but if people are a little over-dramatic in their love for Obama, I’d say they might have some cause, considering what we got after Obama’s departure. Nostalgia is an understandable and inevitable thing, and I think after we came under Trump’s watch and were able to look back at Obama’s presidency with hindsight, we realized how much we’d taken for granted.

Obama would laugh and make fun of himself at the White House Correspondents’ dinner -- Trump flat-out refused to host the dinner at all, and he absolutely cannot take a joke made at his expense. Obama got emotional during speeches, such as after the shooting at Sandy Hook -- I have never once seen Trump show any genuine emotion or tears for anyone other than himself. Obama would tell the American people when things were going to be hard, but still give us hope by explaining what we’d have to do to face the problem -- Trump only ever expresses confidence that things will work out or that he’ll take care of it, with no specifics or insight. Obama planned things out -- Trump flies by the seat of his pants. Obama was cool, calm, and collected -- Trump is hot-tempered, petty, and vindictive. Obama allowed photographers inside the White House outside of the standard press conferences, so they could take candid photographs of the First family -- Trump never has. Barack and Michelle Obama were openly affectionate with each other -- Donald and Melania’s lack of chemistry and affection has been pretty obvious since day one. The Obamas had a dog! The Trumps have no pets.

Even if one’s view of Obama is a bit rosy, I think it’s kind of an understandable rosiness, given where we are as a country. In my opinion, the nostalgia surrounding Obama is a helluva lot more justified than the nostalgia that’s popped up around presidents like Ronald Reagan.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 29, 2020

Heather Cox Richardson

One story jumped out at me today. The Hill reported that as soon as a Democrat is back in the White House, Republicans intend to retrench and be careful about how the country spends money, although during Trump’s term, even before the pandemic, they spent huge sums without worrying about it.

This is a pattern. Since President Ronald Reagan’s presidency in the 1980s, Republicans have insisted that tax cuts will pay for themselves by stimulating economic growth, thus increasing tax revenues as everyone gets richer. At the same time, they have dramatically increased military spending without ever suggesting a way to pay for it. Then they complain about the debt, and insist that the only way to get our finances back into whack is to cut domestic spending.

There are two important metrics involved in figuring out our national expenses. One is the deficit, which is the difference between the money the government spends every year and the money it takes in. The other is the debt, which is the total amount the government owes.

Until the late twentieth century, the government took on large debt during the Civil War, WWI, WWII and during the Great Depression, when Democrat Franklin Delano Roosevelt initiated a new kind of government that regulated business, provided a basic social safety net, and promoted infrastructure. But leaders of both parties believed that deficits should reflect emergencies and that debt should be held at a low percentage of the nation’s Gross Domestic Product, used to estimate the growth of the economy. It was to pay down the national debt that the Republican Party created national taxation, including the income tax, during the Civil War, and that Republican Dwight Eisenhower kept the top income tax bracket at 91% during his administration. Eisenhower was the last Republican president to balance a budget.

After the Great Depression, taxes and the social welfare programs they funded created what economists call the “great compression” when economic inequality in America shrank.

But the stagflation of the 1970s drove white families into higher tax brackets without giving them more buying power at the same time that politicians eager to end business regulation and social welfare programs told them that their tax dollars were going to the civil rights protesters that featured so prominently on the evening news. In 1980, they voted for a president who promised to cut the taxes that he insisted were going to “welfare queens” and to put money back in their pockets.

Ronald Reagan promised that cutting taxes would actually produce more revenue. As business leaders—the supply side—had more money, they would invest in businesses which would hire more workers, at better wages. Rather than focusing on the demand side of the equation—the workers—as governments had done since FDR fought the Depression with the New Deal, Reagan said he could jump-start the economy by putting money into the supply side. The man who would become his own vice president, George H.W. Bush, called this idea “voodoo economics,” but who would complain about a plan that enabled Americans to have the government programs they had come to depend on, without having to pay for them?

Unfortunately, it actually was voodoo economics. In 1981, Congress cut $35 billion from the next year’s budget and cut the top income tax rates from 70% to 50%, as well as cutting capital gains and estate taxes. At Reagan’s urging, it also added $17 billion in new defense spending. In the next five years, it would increase defense spending by 40%. As that money (and more, from the deregulation of savings and loan banks, and from lower interest rates) boosted the economy, it seemed that supply-side economics worked.

An up-and-coming Republican spokesman named Grover Norquist insisted that voters did not want to be taxed to pay down deficits, and it was clear they didn’t have to be. When Democrats called for higher taxes and defense cuts to balance the deficit, Republicans accused them of being anti-business and soft on communism.

But the booming economy was paid for by extensive borrowing. During Reagan’s years in office, the federal debt tripled from $994 billion to $2.8 trillion, and America went from being a creditor nation to a debtor nation. Republican leaders insisted that the Democrats were responsible for the rising debt because they would not make sufficient cuts in domestic spending, but in fact increased defense spending meant the administration itself never submitted a balanced budget.

When he took office, George H.W. Bush tried to take on the national debt, which was costing Americans $200 billion a year in interest payments. In 1990, facing a $171 billion deficit for the next year, Bush agreed to raise taxes if Democrats agreed to steep spending cuts. Republicans led by Georgia Representative Newt Gingrich signed onto the deal in private, but in public began to force those willing to raise taxes, people they called RINOs—Republicans In Name Only—out of their party. The belief that economic growth depended on cutting taxes had become the test of Republican purity.

In 1993, to deal with budget deficits, President Bill Clinton convinced Congress to raise tax rates on incomes over $250,000—affecting about 1% of Americans—to 39.6%, increase the highest corporate tax rate by 1%, and increase the gas tax. Not a single Republican voted for the measure, but under it, the economy boomed and the annual deficits began to shrink. In 1997, Clinton expanded domestic programs and cut the capital gains tax rate, but even still, in 1998, the government was producing a budget surplus.

Even before he took office, President George W. Bush prepared a $1.6 trillion tax cut to wipe that surplus out. Norquist explained to a reporter that so long as there was money to spend, it would go to social welfare legislation, and the Republicans were determined to starve the government, not feed it. Bush did not get the full cut he wanted, but in June 2001 Congress passed a bill cutting $1.3 trillion over ten years.

Immediately after 9-11, Congress appropriated $358 billion for security before Bush dramatically increased military spending—by $48 billion—while slashing domestic spending. When the administration launched more tax cuts the following year, Bush’s Treasury Secretary, Paul O’Neill, worried about a fiscal crisis. Vice President Dick Cheney disagreed: “Reagan proved that deficits don’t matter.” Bush took the country into war in Afghanistan and Iraq but, for the first time in U.S. history, did not raise taxes to pay for the military actions. Instead, Congress cut taxes again. By 2009, the Congressional Research Service estimated the cost of those wars at $1 trillion.

President Barack Obama took office in early 2009 with the Great Recession in full swing. Deficit spending to restart the economy put the deficit at more than $1.4 trillion that year. As the economy recovered, deficits dropped to $585 billion.

Under Trump, though, they rose dramatically again despite the fact he inherited a growing economy. In 2017, he pushed through a tax cut which increased the 2019 deficit to $984 billion. It was projected to be $1.02 trillion in 2020—a 74% increase in four years of a strong economy—when the coronavirus hit. This meant that interest payments on the federal debt—before coronavirus—were estimated to cost $382 billion, 8.2% of total government spending.

The pandemic, of course, required a huge relief package. The CARES bill appropriated $2.2 trillion, making this year’s deficit projected to be at least $3.7 trillion.

Measured against GDP, our accumulated debt is now higher than at any time except in 1946, during World War II. In June 2020, it was $20.3 trillion.

Economists are of two minds (at least!) about the economic effects of deficits and the federal debt, but there is one very clear political meaning to them. This pattern of government spending and taxation since 1981 has moved wealth upward dramatically. In 1979, the top 1% of Americans held 20.5% of the nation’s wealth. In 1989 the top 1% held 35.7%. By 2017, the top 1% owned 40% of the country’s wealth, more than the bottom 90% combined. The top 20% in 2017 owned 90% of the wealth, leaving just 10% for the remaining 80%. The bottom 20% of Americans have no wealth; they are in debt.

When Republicans today say they are going to turn their attention back to the deficits and the debt, what they are saying is that they intend to continue to cut taxes. Then they will blame the Democrats for being fiscally irresponsible when they call for the infrastructure and social welfare spending that used to keep the American economic playing field somewhat level.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[marvinswriting]

a beautiful roar (that’s in my head)- one

THIS IS A NEW AU?!?!?!? AND A NEW MULIT CHAPTERED FIC?

welcome to the first fic in the mean heathers au. thats right. a crossover au. bear and i have so many hcs and ideas about this au, and this was so much fun to write. keep in mind, this is only chapter one....much more to come

Tw: d slu, the ususal

mean heathers au ft bmc

Veronica stared at the hotel room laid out before her.

"Well, it's nice." Heather McNamara said, stepping into the room and lowering her suitcase.

"Yeah."

It was a nice hotel room. A bathroom, mini corner kitchen, two beds, a closet, and a dresser. Just- 

very small.

"Remind me why we're here again?" Veronica places her suitcase on the edge of the bed Mac didn't pick.

"Veronica," Heather says resembling a disappointed mother. "We are here for Ram and Kurt. This is a big sport tournament for them and we're lucky enough to be able to come here through the school."

"And?"

"And it's an excuse not to be in school." Heather finishes.

"Mhmm." Veronica teases.

Westerburg was attending some big event for schools across the nation. It featured sports for both tinies and giant and was only for the best of the best teams.

To have the tiny football team here was an honor.

"Maybe they'll fund the teams properly now," Heather said. "The tiny cheer squad and the football team have always been the better ones. They just won't fund us because we're smaller. Literally."

Veronica cackles, flopping on her bed. "This is why I don't bother with sports."

Heather grins. "No, it's just because you're lazy."

"Yo! Heather! Ronnie!" The hotel door swings open, Kurt popping his head in. "Heather wants us in the lobby, stat."

Veronica rolls her eyes standing up as Kurt disappears. "We should remember to lock that door."

"Yeah." Mac grins, getting up. "Better not keep them waiting."

The lobby was a lot nicer than the tiny room, as most things are. It was furnished with expensive-looking couches and fancy coffee tables. Sitting at one of those nice sofas already was Duke, Chandler, and JD.

Veronica, Heather, Ram, and Kurt stood at the platform where the tiny hotel ended, flagging down their friends. 

Chander noticed them first, whispering something to Duke before the green Heather got up and walked over. 

"Hi, Heather." Mac said.

"Hello, Heather."

Even to this day, the whole Heather, Heather, and Heather never got any less confusing for Veronica. 

Duke let Veronica and Heather on her shoulder before scooping up Ram and Kurt. 

She walked back over to the coffee table, dropping the two jocks roughly. 

Veronica and Mac stayed on the shoulder, where it was safer.

"So, what I was about to say," Duke continued what she was talking about before grabbing the tinies. "Another school here, Northshore, they're here for soccer and football, their HBIC is a tiny. Regina George."

"Really?" Chandler's eyebrows raised.

"Mhmm." Duke nods. "Their social hierarchy is all out of wack too. Regina kicked a friend off the squad and ruined her social life only to befriend her again later, with her social life still ruined. And the tiny got replaced by a giant only for Regina to rule again."

"Must be one strong tiny." Mac said.

"Or a little bitch." JD offered, not even bothering to look up from his phone. 

"It could be both." Veronica said.

"Wait I'm not done."

"Do tell more. I feel like I'm hearing the summary of a bad Netflix show."

"There's rumors of this dude, Damian. He's punched Shane Omen."

"Shane Omen?!" Chandler leaned forward. "You're kidding."

Northshore and Westerburg might not be close schools, but popular kids know popular kids, no matter what. Veronica who was still fairly new to the popular kid life- had no idea who Shane Omen was.

Gotta be a pretty big asshole to get a reaction like that out of Chandler though.

"Jesus, okay. Let's not piss off this Damian."

Duke nodded. "Apparently broke his nose."

"Really?"

"Damian's got a tiny friend, Jane, Janis, something with a J. Shane was fucking with her- as one does- and Damian just decked him."

"So, all I'm hearing is that J girl is off-limits," JD says.

"You're not threatening tinies." Veronica scolds.

"It is fun to do though," Duke says.

Veronica held the shoulder underneath her tighter.

Her giant friends would never actually hurt her, but that didn't mean they didn't like to fuck around.

"Ha! Shane's a loser." Kurt said from the table.

"You've never met him," Duke says. "Quiet."

"Who is Shane?" Veronica asks tentatively.

"A boy Heather and I would party with a couple of summers back," Chandler explained. "He came to Westerburg every summer up until highschool. Biggest asshole I've ever met but man. He's a pretty good kisser."

Okay.

Sure.

"I wonder if Shane's here this year since Northshore is here." Duke questions out loud. 

"Maybe. Northshore is here for tiny soccer and giant football." Mac answers.

"Two? Holy shit." Ram exclaims from the table. "You think we could take on their giant football team?"

"They'd use you as the ball." Duke deadpans.

-

"This place is big and loud and I'm just not having a good time." Janis sinks further into Damian's jacket pocket. 

"We're doing it for Aaron, love." He reminds her, opening the door to the hotel room Damian has.

Janis was supposed to share with Regina, but since Damian got his own room, well- Janis was definitely staying with him. 

"Couldn't we have just gotten him a 'wow you're a good soccer player' card and moved on?"

Damian chuckled. "No, sweets. We're good friends. Unless you just want a card next art show you win."

Janis huffed but provided no further argument.

Aaron was playing a game right now, actually, but the rest of the gang had to check-in. If they rushed, they could probably make it to the end of the game. 

Not that it mattered. Tiny games were recorded and live-streamed into a theater where giants could watch or playback later on the tournament's website. It wasn't the same as being in the bleachers watching the game live.

Still, Damian dropped their luggage and went to meet everyone else back in the lobby.

Cady was already in the streaming room, supporting her tiny as usual. Gretchen picked up Regina and met Damian and Karen before walking to the rooms themselves. 

The room was pretty empty because once again- replay online. 

Cady saved three seats in the front row for the other giants and grinned hen everyone sat down. 

"It's a tie with one minute left."

"I don't understand soccer," Janis said, trying to make sense of the commotion on screen. 

The ball was passed to Aaron and she watched as he dribbled it down the field, shooting it into the goal. 

The goalie reached out but the ball just bounced past the tips of his fingers, landing in the net as the whistle blew.

Cady jumped up with a cheer. "Yeah!"

"Did Aaron score a winning goal? I don't understand soccer." Gretchen asks with a nervous laugh.

"Yes!"

"Is that good?" Janis says.

"Yes, it's good! Northshore won the first match!"

"Hell yeah!" Regina cheered.

The live stream ended as Cady called Aaron.

"Where do we meet you?"

There was silence as Aaron responded to Cady, something the rest of the gang couldn't make out.

"Okay, we'll see you there."

Cady hangs up the phone turning to her friends. "The team is taking the bus back to the tiny part of the hotel, Aaron will meet us in the lobby."

"Okay but how long with that take," Janis says. "Tiny bus means a long ride."

"Bout an hour."

"So let's explore for an hour!" Karen says. "This place is huge."

-

"I don't think I can put into words how badly I hope you fall." Duke remarked, watching Kurt trying to do pull-ups hanging off the edge of the table.

Veronica laughed from her spot on JD's shoulder. "Ram, push him."

"Okay."

No hesitation, the jock pried his friend's fingers off the edge of the counter.

Chandler rolled her eyes. "None of you know how to act."

"Please be careful." Heather McNamara said worryingly, peering over the edge of the table where Kurt fell.

"You don't have to be." Duke sneered.

 "Heather." Chandler turned to the girl sitting next to her. "I want to go look around. Come with me. JD, please try not to kill the tinies."

"Okay, Heather." Duke stood up, lifting Kurt back to the table in the process.

"Heather, you're in charge." Chandler pointed to the small girl on the table.

"Okay!"

"So, tell me moth about the other schools."

Veronica watched as both giants walked away, their conversation fading. 

-

"You've reached Regina's voicemail. Either I'm busy talking shit about you or I don't want to talk to you. You know what to do, beep!"

Janis sighed, lowering the phone from her ear and looking around the room.

She lost Regina about ten minutes ago and there was still no sign of the blonde.

The was on one of the rooms off the lobby that was tiny accessible. More specifically, she was standing on the tiny platform. 

There were lots of people in the room, both big and small, but no Regina Geroge.

Janis's eyes trail over the giant crowd, trying to find some of her bigger friends.

"You lost, shortie?" A voice calls out.

Janis looked to see who girls, both wearing ridiculous costumes, staring at her.

The girl who spoke was wearing green and had sleek black hair tied into a low ponytail by a scrunchie.

"No, I'm not." Janis states flatly.

Shes had enough of asshole giants from Northshore. She doesn't need it from other schools.

The girl in red looks her up and down silently. She gave off an entitled vibe and Janis didn't like it. Very pre-bus Regina. 

"Can I help you?"

The red chick suddenly reached out and Janis stepped back.

"Use your words, not your hands, bitch."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

"My name is Heather Chandler. You don't get to talk to me like that."

Who does this bitch think she was? Heather Chandler. Okay? Doesn't change anything. 

Janis was having a pretty shitty day She didn't need this.

"And I'm Janis Sarkisian. Great, we're on a first-name basis. Leave me the fuck alone."

The green chick seemed to have a moment of recognition but didn't vocalize it. Before Janis could say anything about it, a hand landed on her shoulder.

"Sorry for leaving you, I saw somebody I knew." Regina explained. "C'mon, Damian's looking for you. Don't want him to lose it."

Jains groaned. "He needs to stop worrying about me."

"Damian?" Heather asked. "Are you two- from Northshore?"

If Janis didn't know any better she'd say she looked scared.

"What's it to you?" 

"No, it's nothing. Never mind. Sorry about earlier." 

Heather turned away, dragging her friend with her.

"What was that?" Regina asked.

"No fucking clue," Janis said, turning to the tiny exit. "Let's go."

They walked through the tiny halls, making their way to the lobby. "Those girls were confusing," Janis said. "One minute it's all, I'm Heather Chandler, don't talk to me like that, and the next its all, I'm so sorry. What a bitch."

"Okay, somebody isn't having a good day."

"No, I'm not. Thanks for noticing."

The anxiety of being in a whole new crowded place, mixed with exhaustion, and just lots of things going wrong today was the perfect formula for a pending breakdown.

"I need a nap."

"Ohhh me too," Regina said as they entered the lobby. "Let me call Gretchen, let her know we're here. Oh, twelve missed calls from Janis."

"Yeah. Stupid."

The whole gang sat at one of the dining tables where the hotel was hosting a Sunday bar in celebration of kicking off the tournaments. Gretchen dropped Janis and Regina off at the tiny table to get food telling them to flag her down when they were done.

To be honest, Janis wasn't that hungry. Just tired. So fucking tired.

"Yo! Space Dyke!"

God damnit.

"Not today, Shane. Seriously."

Regina and Janis turn around to see Shane Omen, backed up by a boy they've never seen before.

Janis huffs stepping back as Shane reaches his hand. "Dude. Not fucking kidding."

Not that she's kidding normally. But, with a new environment and piles of stress, she might just start sobbing.

Like that would hinder Shane anyway.

"Please, I just want to introduce you to my friend."

"We've heard a lot about the little space alien." The friend sneers.

Space alien over dyke anyway.

Whatever. 

Janis was pretty desensitized to the name. 

"Well, now you've met me. Leave me alone."

"Damn, she's got a bite, huh?"

Bite.

Not a bad idea.

Regina wrapped her arm around Janis. "Shane. Please take you and your goons and leave."

Shane grins. "This ain't Northshore, Reggie. You think I'll listen to you?"

"It be in your best interest too." A voice calls behind Shane.

The duo turns around to give view to Gretchen and Damian- neither looking too pleased.

Shane's friend shugs. "And what would you do about it?"

Gretchen raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

Without a warning, a hand grabs Janis off the platform. "What. Would. You. Do. About. It?"

Why doesn't Regina get picked up and messed with?

"Hey!" Janis pushed at the fingers wrapped around her. This was pretty par for a school day, but-

This was supposed to be a fun week to support Aaron.

What the hell.

"Put her down!" Damian steps forward. 

"And who are you to do anything about it?"

Gretchen pauses for a moment before ginning, stepping next to Damian. "That's Damian Hubbard."

Shane's friend holding me laughs. "Damian? You're kidding. Shane- this is the dude who broke your nose?"

Shane huffs but can't defend himself over his friend's laughter.

"Jesus, and here I thought I should be worried."

The fist around Janis tightens, further then Shane's ever fucking done.

She almost preferred Shane. 

Almost.

"Stop-" She couldn't breathe.

Her ribs hurt.

What the fuck.

"What you gonna do about it, Damian." The dude holding Janis mocks. "Punch me? I'd like to see you try."

"Oh fuck! Get em, Damian!" Regina cheers.

If Janis could breathe, maybe she'd laugh.

There's a whacking sound as the fist around her releases and Janis can only assume Damian did fact, punch him.

She had bigger worries though as she went from an extreme lack of air to being surrounded by nothing but-

This truly felt like your average school week. 

It felt just like Northshore.

The hands, the grabbing, the freefall and the-

Janis landed on a warm surface just like normal

-the catch.

Damian's fingers wrapped around Janis the second she was securely in his hand. 

Janis looked up as she was brought to Damian's chest to see Shane's friend bent over, holding his nose.

Regina was cheering, still on the ice cream bar counter.

"What the fuck was that for?" Shane asked stepping forwards aggressively.

Damian shrugged. "Did he not literally say he wanted to see me try?"

"Yes, he did!" Regina grinned.

Y'know when a cornered dog lashes out? Yeah, Shane resembled that.

He stepped towards the tiny platform. "You're a fucking bitch Regina George. I hope you know that. I could fucking kill you if I-"

"Hey, Shane?" Gretchen tapped him on the shoulder, making him turn around. 

"Wha-"

There was a loud smack that echoed through the room- over the other conversations around up. 

Shane's hand shot to his cheek. "Did you just slap me?"

"I'll do it again." Gretchen stood to her full height, chest to chest with Shane. "Fuck. Off."

Janis felt Damian's fingers tighten around her. Not painfully just- defensively.

Fortunately, Shane and his friend walked away, both clutching their faces.

"I guess that solidifies the rumors," Gretchen mumbled, glancing over the crowd, most of whom were staring at the four of them.

"What rumors?" Regina asked, allowing herself to be scooped up by Gretchen.

"Nothing lets just- eat ice cream."

-

Heather and Veronica sat in one of the tiny spaces in the hotel.

They were just little areas with sofas and vending machines but- they were tiny-sized and it was nice.

"Have you seen Kurt or Ram?" Heather asked. 

"No, maybe it's for the best. They're probably doing something stupid." Veronica said, glancing up from her phone. 

"Yeah."

Three kids their age walked into the room, making way to the vending machine. Veronica didn't may them much mind, a lot of students stay at the hotel for the event, there have been lots of kids walking in and out. They typically didn't interact.

"Um, excuse me?"

Typically.

Veronica looked up to see a girl with two-toned length hair. She wore a baggy denim jacket covered in paint and fancy patterned fishnets.

"Do you happen to know a Heather Chandler?"

"Uh, yes? Why?" Heather responded.

The girl shrugged. "You all have a similar get-up. Wasn't sure if it was a coincidence." She stepped closer as her friends finished up at the vending machine. "I'm Janis."

"Veronica."

"Heather."

Janis' eyebrows raised. "Two Heather's in the same friend group? Doesn't that get confusing?"

"Actually there's three. And yes, it's confusing as fuck." Veronica nods.

Janis grinned. "Sounds rough."

The boy she was with stood next to her holding candy from the machine. "I'm Aaron, the girl kicking the vending machine for her chips is Regina."

There's a clunk and Regina bends down. "Got it!"

Janis shook her head. "Well Heather and Veronica, maybe we'll see you around."

The trio waved bye and they turned down the hall, their voices fading.

Heather waved after them before turning back to Veronica. "Well, they seem nice!"

oh ho ho when i say me and bear have talked about this for weeks- i mean weeks. this will be fun

@realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

[raginggrannies]

From our friends at Radical Women

October 15, 2020 Radical Women statement   Another Supreme Court showdown: Feminists need united resistance and revolutionary change now!    Here we go again. Another hard-right Supreme Court nominee sits before Congress dodging questions that we know the answers to. Her record is crystal clear. Amy Coney Barrett follows in the conservative footsteps of Antonin Scalia (her mentor), John Roberts, Clarence Thomas, and Brett Kavanaugh. And as the Democrats wage yet another ineffective attack, we can pretty much be assured of Barrett’s confirmation. Barrett opposes abortion and reproductive rights. She has routinely ruled in favor of corporations over individuals. According to the Alliance for Justice, Barrett’s business-focused actions on the federal bench have limited the enforcement of age-discrimination laws, restricted federal agencies’ power to punish companies that mislead consumers, and reduced people’s rights against predatory debt collectors. In August, Barrett ruled that GrubHub drivers were not a “class of workers” and therefore not able to file a class action lawsuit for unpaid overtime. Furthermore, she favors denying green cards to undocumented immigrants who have used the social safety net. She ruled against victims of sexual assault on campus and would take away hard-won victims’ rights. So, no, we don’t have to wonder what damage she can do to civil liberties and the rights of women, queers, workers, and immigrants as a Supreme Court judge. We know. Barrett is on record saying she believes in the Constitution as it is written not as justices would like it to be. But the reality is she and her cohorts will torture the Constitution if needed to make a ruling that lines up with their ultra-conservative beliefs. The personal is political Radical Women is appalled by Barrett’s attempts to pander her family to the television audience, showcasing her husband and seven children to prove she’s just a regular hard-working mom. She tells how she cried with her adopted Haitian daughter over George Floyd’s murder, but refuses to answer any questions of substance on the Affordable Care Act, civil liberties or a woman’s right to control her body. Barrett, and her Republican backers, argue that her religion and personal life are not at issue. Of course they are! Her personal and religious beliefs are the backbone of her political ideology. Barrett belongs to a hard-right, secretive Catholic group called “People of Praise” that believes in extreme gender roles and until recently called high-ranking women “handmaids.” They expel gay members. How is this not relevant? Barrett signed an open letter that opposed abortion, and believes life begins at fertilization of the egg. This makes many forms of birth control, including the pill and IUD, equal to murder. Furthermore, Barrett belongs to the right-wing Federalist Society, which grooms conservative lawyers and judges and has ties to the notorious Koch brothers. It’s opposed to “government intrusions” and believes in limiting laws affecting private property and businesses. Members of the society have rigorously gone after abortion rights and the Affordable Care Act. Of the federal judges Trump has put on the bench, the vast majority are current or former members of the society. Clearly, Barrett is more than willing to be a handmaid to Trump and his ilk. Building united resistance The Supreme Court upholds and promotes the priorities of the class in power — the capitalists. This partially explains the ineffectual showing of Democrats every time another rabid right-winger is put forward for the court. They serve the same fat cats and bosses as their Republican cohorts. Supreme Court justices are appointed for life — it’s completely undemocratic. As Howard Zinn so aptly stated in his 2005 article, “Don’t Despair About the Supreme Court”: “The courts have never been on the side of justice, only moving a few degrees one way or the other, unless pushed by the people.” Feminists and working people can’t rely on either party or the Supreme Court to protect our rights. We have to do it ourselves! Apply enough public outrage, and even conservative judges can make surprisingly good decisions — as evidenced by civil rights legislation, same-sex marriage and Roe. It’s not going to be easy; the court has taken a hard turn to the right in recent years. But one role of the court is to serve as a safety valve against rebellion of the populace. Exert enough pressure and the court will rule to let off some of that steam. Thanks to the leadership of Black and brown youth, especially young women, there is an active movement in the streets protesting against systemic racism, misogynistic white supremacists, killer cops and discrimination on the job. This is the kind of organizing that can influence the courts. Creating a united front is a good next step. An expansive movement with agreed-upon demands led by and including the issues of all those groups targeted by the right wing and religious fundamentalists — women, people of color, the LGBTQ+ community, youth, people with disabilities, elderly, immigrants, unemployed, underemployed, unionists, and students. But ultimately, what’s needed is ending this misogynist, racist, planet-killing, profit-driven economic system. Replacing it with a socialist society based on shared wealth would eliminate worrying about laws being made by those who oppress us. It is possible to provide access for all to quality education, childcare, health care, reproductive rights and employment along with clean air, water and land. We just have to get rid of the profit motive. Capitalism and its bought-and-paid-for politicians and judges can’t and won’t meet basic needs. It is our constitutional right to demand revolutionary change. The time is now! Don’t mourn, organize! Radical Women of all ages, races, and sexualities are leaders fighting for just this kind of powerful, multi-issue socialist feminist program. Get involved at RadicalWomen.org. 

[the-canary]

Irreplaceable - B.B (1/2)

Summary:  It’s not even about not noticing what’s in front of you. At this point, it was plain idiocy on both your parts. (Modern/Childhood AU!Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Prompt: “You know that feeling when you’re not your favourite person’s favourite person, and it kind of feels like you’re constantly swallowing sand?”  

A/N: This is for @writingcroissant 2k writing challenge. hello, people i was in the mood for a trashy cliches so i put them all together and you guys get this. not the best, but enjoy the mess! 

Masterlist

Feedback is always welcomed.

August.

In the summer between elementary and middle school, little James Buchanan Barnes is supposed to move from the only city he has ever known, New York City, to a little no-place on the map called Shelbyville, Indiana. He and his sisters had been told their mother had gotten a large inheritance from her grandaunt (someone they had never met before), things needed to be watched over so they were going back -- little Bucky being reminded that he had been born there, but he didn’t know such a place. All he had ever known was New York -- Brooklyn was where he had spent 10 years playing and learning, it was where Steve was at.

With a hug and Steve’s information safely placed in his luggage, James Barnes and his family make the drive. A sour look on his face the entire time as his sisters seemed excited over the change, but maybe it might be over the fact they might get horses and have seen pictures of the old estate they will be living on -- just like things out of their picture books.

Twelve hours later, he’s in a completely new area -- there is green grass everywhere and tall homes with white fences around them. The new Barnes’ home was painted is dark green hues that mixed in with the large oak woods that surrounded it. The movers are bringing things out, as he looks around in momentary awe compared to the small apartment that cramped in the 6 family members. It’s while he’s looking around that he sees two adults walking up to his parents. George Barnes calls out to all his children to meet their new neighbors.

“This is James, he’s twelve and starting middle school,” his father explains, as he notices something move behind the tall woman as the slightly shorter man speaks.

“Our daughter is the same age!” he declares, as he pulls on the figure and brings her into the spotlight. She gives her name and welcomes the large family. Her eyes meets Bucky’s blue ones and she gives him a nervous smile. Little James’ heart speeds up for a moment before his sisters drag her away into the grassy front lawn.

Bucky Barnes, years later, swears it was love at first sight.    

September.

There is a lack of children on your block before the Barnes came into your life and you happily accept all of them.

For James, it’s like Brooklyn all over again but with you instead of Stevie, though he doesn’t enjoy the fact that he has to share you with his sisters from time to time. You remind him of Stevie (he even shows you the letters the blond sends him) sometimes because while you are quiet, there is a strong core at your center -- you’re stubborn when you want to be and that often leads to small spats here and there when you want to do something (usually something quiet and indoors) and he had something else in mind (something loud and outdoors).

Like tonight, when he knows that he shouldn’t have ditched you for all those new kids he had meet in school. Everyone had ganged up on him as the new kid from New York and Bucky couldn’t say no to the attention, even if it had pushed you away from him -- he only saw your sad face before you disappeared into the main building with a blonde girl, and he couldn’t exactly apologize when you didn’t have any classes together

Clink! Clink!

You hear something tap at your window after dinnertime, while you’re trying your best to finish the math homework that had already been assigned. However, it’s too boring and dreadful that the first noise you hear catches your attention, as you walk over to the window and look out to the joined backyard your family and the Barnes share, that where you see him -- James standing there with handful of rocks in his hand. You frown.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” you huff out feeling all the anger from today raising within, as you call him all the bad words you can think in your 12-year-old head, but Bucky takes it all with a smile and a soft look in his blue eyes. He waits until you stop, out of breathe but much calmer than before.

“I’m sorry,” he says before pulling out a daisy chain, Rebecca probably made it, from his pocket. You stare at him for a long time and he is sure you’re going just ignore him, but you just nod and say okay.

“--But you owe me ice cream,” you say as an afterthought and he can’t help but grin.

The years are spent like that -- James, or as everyone else calls him “Bucky”, going into different cliques here and there -- one day he’s hanging out with the jocks, another he’s with the artists, and let’s not talk about those “alternative” and emo phases he went through, though somehow he always manages to have some of the highest grades in all of the school. James is always trying to find somewhere to belong as his sisters make friends and drift apart with age and you find your own things to be busy with, such as sports and student government. However, at the start of summer there is always that one rock thrown at your window -- all pretenses, false friends, and temporary girlfriends forgotten-- at you ran to your door to see a boyish smile and bright blue eyes.

Every summer you’re temporary James Barnes’ favorite person, and you cling onto that desperately for the rest of the year -- the memories making that nostalgia sweeter as he runs away to play a different person, thus ignoring you entirely.    

Because you’ve known for a long time that he’ll always be yours.

Too bad the winter of your junior year finally makes you see the truth and how stupidly naive you were.

December.

Winter break is a short thing that you usually spent at home, enjoying the winter weather of your hometown by staying inside. You were old enough that your parents let you do your own thing now, as they went to banquets for your father’s affairs and later on the West Coast to visit family. The Barnes usually headed back to New York, though one or two sisters stayed as they got older -- James always went to visit Steve. So in your lonesome, you watch old movies, read anything you can get your hands on, and sleep for hours -- a true teenaged paradise.

Snuggling in your bed fort with some Hot Pockets and old movies until you hear a knock at the door, though due to the time of night you decide to stay in your cave, that’s until you hear that familiar clink, clink. You get up and rush to the window to have a cheeky looking James Barnes looking at you -- wearing a black leather jacket and a lip piercing. You couldn’t help but at admit that it did look in part of that outfit.

“What do ya want, James?” you yell as he lifts his hand to show you a black box, which just confuses you even more, so he decides to explain.

“I need some help dyeing my hair!” he yells back since he knows that you parents aren’t there, though Rebecca and Lizzie are probably at home, though you are wondering why he hadn’t gone to see Steve instead of staying here. He doesn’t wait for your answer, as he is already climbing up that vine wall on the side of your window -- like he had started doing since 8th grade. You yelp as he pushes his way through window.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly as you can’t help but shake your head for the moment. You shake your head before leading him to the bathroom at the side of your room since you know he won’t leave when his mind is already made up on something.

He sits on the toilet seat, taking off his jacket to reveal a short-sleeved band shirt that you aren’t quite so familiar with. He gives you the box as you start reading it. James hums a little tune as you start opening the box.

“So why exactly are you trying to dye your hair again?” you ask remembering the bright red he had for Halloween a few years back for a pretty girl to win a costume contest.

“I lost a bet with some punks in Rumlow’s group,” James shrugs like it’s nothing, as you can’t help but let out a hum of disapproval, while putting on the gloves that come with the box and making sure that everything is ready.        

“Why are you trying to hangout with Rumlow, James?” you ask, as you take the bleach filled container and begin to run it through his hair. He looks up at you for a moment, blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

“He’s cool, his parties are pretty wicked too,” he answers back as you frown, only for you to pull his head back down and keep going with the process as described on the back of the box.

“He’s dangerous,” you add, remembering what you had heard of Rumlow’s gang and the things his stepfather was good at hiding due to his connections to the affluent people of the city. It was on open secret and only the rowdy and stupid kind of folk fell into his schemes -- them and Bucky, you try to compromise in your head.  

“Not everything ya daddy says is dangerous is, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead against your shirt and you give silent thanks that it’s an old band shirt instead of  something your mother would kill you over if it got a bleach stain on it. You finish and let him sit there for the color to sink it. You grab a plastic hair net and put it around his head with a smile.  

“Just be safe,” you plea, dragging him up just a little so you can place a kiss on his cheek, “Please.”

You try to go back to a standing position, but a hand on your wrist drags you back. Blue eyes are smoldering with something you had never seen before, at least never in your direction, as he goes from looking at your face and straight at your lips. The air is heavy with anticipation as he bites his bottom lips for a moment, leaning it little by little -- giving you enough room to break this, whatever is happening. However, you looking at his own lips gives him all the motivation he needs to move in until---

There’s a knock and then the welcome yell of your father as your parents come back from their banquet earlier than usual. The moment passes and you’re out the door, to welcome them, as James lets out of curse of defeat, though not exactly sure of what the hell happened and questioning why his heart is racing so fast with you compared to all those other girls he had been with. Bucky knows he needs to leave and process everything that had just happened.  

He goes out through the window of your bedroom, having done it several times before, not knowing that this was the last time you would really talk to each other.

January.

You don’t see James after the bathroom incident since you and your parents had traveled to the West Coast to visit family and work friends. You have long forgotten the incident  and shoved it to the back of your head until the last possible minute when it all comes crashing back to you the night before school starts once more. You think about blond hair, bright blue eyes, and that laughter that never seems to be directed your way and for once it is. And you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to forget it.

You want to ask James a lot of things, want to know what he would have done if your parents’ hadn’t come back home earlier than promised, if he felt the same way you did. You’re all sweaty palms and a beating heart on the way to school -- it’s a new semester, but it could also potential lead to something else. You know that you and James hadn’t always had the best relationship, but then what the hell was he doing just about to kiss you?

“Good morning,” Sharon smiles as you enter the building and head to that old familiar locker, “Guess what I heard!”

“What?” you ask with a pitch too high, thinking that your closest friend has found out the only thing you haven’t told her. She raises an eyebrow at your strange attitude before going back to what she was talking about.

“Bucky and Dot eloped!” Sharon squeals like it’s some time of forbidden romance when it’s just two stupid teenagers doing stupid things (as your father would say later on about the event), “Went all the way to Indianapolis, and now their parents are trying to bring them back!”

You remember badly dyed blond hair and bright blue eyes -- and you let it die.

“Good for them, I guess,” you shrug, unable to say anything else. Sharon agrees, deciding not to say anything about your current attitude as the bells rings to signal the start of first period.

February.

James and Dolores come back towards start of the month, embarrassed and guilty with rumors running wild from her being pregnant to money being involved. It’s too crazy for the redhead that her parents eventually send to out of the city, to where you don’t know and James -- well, you don’t care about that. You are too busy with badminton, student council, and your high-level courses. It gets to the point that the counselor tells you that you could graduate a year early.

That wasn’t your plan of action, you wanted to enjoy senior year but you weren’t going to have it be in Shelbyville, as you informed your parents that you wanted to move to the West Coast to live with your favorite aunt -- as a way to prepare yourself for college since all your choices were there.

They agree with your level headedness, though with some rules placed here and there. They make you wait until the start of summer for one and you agree with a sigh. At least it’s only a couple of more months, is all you can think.

March - May.

He swears that he tries talking to you, tries to catch your eye when you’re walking down the hall or when you walking back to the school bus. Bucky is an idiot and he needs to explain a lot of things, but after the incident with Dot, nobody wants to listen to him. His parents barely let him out of their watchful eyes, but he doesn’t blame them. His friends look at him like he’s a different person, unsure of who the real Bucky Barnes is. Hell, he doesn’t know anymore either. The school only lets him back in because of his grades, though the principal watches him and tell him not to run afoul.

His sisters are the only ones that have his back. The only people that listened to his side of the story and it was only until the end, when Rebecca finally talks that he realizes the truth about the whole matter.

“ Jamie, are you in love with our next door neighbor ?” she asks and it was like a firecracker sparked in front of him. He had been in love with you since 6th grade when you walked alongside a very nervous him to school. Even though he pushed you away whenever the spotlight was on him, you were always there with a soft smile on your face waiting in the background, waiting underneath that starry backdrop after he hit your bedroom window with that first rock.

Now, he had lost you. However, Bucky has always been stubborn, especially when it came to you.      

He tries throwing a rock on your window one chilly May morning, he gets no response on the first, second, or third try. On the fourth, he sees something move from the inside. The air in his lungs freeze in anticipation only for his heart to stop instead when he sees the curtains close for the first time in years.

That’s the point that he confirmed that he had lost you.

June.

June marches in without notice as you prep the last bit of your items for the move. Your aunt having already received the major things over the last couple of weeks, now all that was left was a duffel bag and you ready to be sent the airport. All the goodbyes --to Sharon, to the Barnes sisters-- had been said and you were ready to move on and even though the bottom your throat ached at the thought of a certain boy -- you knew you were better than this. You couldn’t be stuck on Bucky Barnes forever.

Your mother gives you a hug and promises to visit you during the annual summer events the company has, as you promise to call her every other day. Your father is waiting in the front seat of the old car as you notice Rebecca Barnes, barely awake and in her pajamas, waiting near her home.

“We’ll miss ya,” she says with a sad smile as you pull her in for a hug. You promise to call or write when you can, but the little hiccup in your voice makes her realize that you are lying -- you’ll cut all ties to be a stronger person, that’s the type of person that she knows that you are. She wants to tell you that her older brother is in love with you, that he’s been a mess since the last time you had seen him.

“Take care of him,” is all you manage to whisper as she lets out a small sob because even with all the hurt you had felt over the years, over these past couple of months -- you still felt something. You just didn’t plan on ever acting up on it. Rebecca wanted to slap both of you over your heads, but it was too late.

She waves as you get into the car and drive away -- it’s like when she and her family first came here to find you. She just never thought she would see the day you would be leaving before them -- you always been a part of their lives and now she could only wonder how they would all deal without you. She gives your mother one last smile before heading back inside. She just didn’t expect to see Bucky waiting for her midway through the staircase, dressed and waiting for something to finally happen. Well, it had -- just not in the way he was expecting it to.

“Becca, why were you outside?” Bucky’s sleepy voice is hopeful from his position on the stairs. Maybe, his younger sister had finally been successful in being the mediator in this rough patch between the two of you. However, that happy thought is soon snuffed out at the sight of her sad blue eyes and scowl.

“I was saying goodbye,” she remarks as Bucky gets confused over her statement, “She left to the airport just now, going to Cali.”

“Like a trip?” Bucky asks. You and your parents had always gone these little trips during winter and summer breaks, which he had always hated since you left him all alone -- now he knew why. Rebecca shakes her head and Bucky’s heart stops.

He curses and hits the wall next to him with all his fury and anguish before heading back to his room. Bucky Barnes goes back and doesn’t come out for the next 3 months -- why would he?

You had taken the golden rays of summer with you and the world became a colorless afterthought.  

Part 2

[sashagreypocket-blog]

Masturbate and Feel Good

male stroker "Masturbation... is simply not approved of the actual Lord not this religious organization, regardless of what can be said by those as their 'norms' are lower", Chief executive Kimball of the Religious organization involving Jesus Christ connected with Latter-Day Bienheureux (1981)

male stroker

"Every sperm is usually sacred. Each and every sperm is wonderful. If some sort of sperm is thrown away, Lord gets quite irate. very well Monty Python's The real meaning associated with Life.

A quotation generally used by various chapels in an effort for you to contain illicit serves amidst its people. Every single monserga on masturbation would likely estimate it, at least all of the sermons I have listened to. Within the circumstances, is the idea difficult to envision fleshlight as one of the particular biggest taboos in each of our society? Even today? Research education has done a new little to switch it. Can that mean people no longer masturbate? Certainly not. 00% of men and 70 percent of girls masturbate according to help various reports. The difficulty lies in the endorsement of the fact in which you masturbate. Clearly the story... a story regarding you.

A single night anyone were sitting on your own within your apartment eating lasagna. You decided to verify out a few new web sites on the net whilst you eat. So you journal on to the speed of your internet connection as well as start surfing. Inadvertently, you locate some piece of pornography(yes, online is quite entire of it! ) Shopping at those erotic (and often downright nasty photos) you feel a tingley amongst the legs. One issue leads to an additional and also you end up going bad your own underpants. Now enable me tell you one more story.

One night you are sitting alone in any pub drinking beer. Along with then some sort of most wonderful person penetrates the club. The person that reasons tingley between your lower limbs just investigating him or even her. You decide this you can't release this kind of opportunity to get in order to know this creation regarding god. And that means you move to this person and initiate little talk. One thing contributes to another and you conclusion up in your current condo.

Whether you are a new woman or possibly a man, typically the next morning you actually more than likely be jumping using delight in the first event. When you go out and about in the nighttime to be able to meet your friends, a person would not necessarily tell these people about the hot website you found and precisely how an individual jerked off for you to it. Even so, in often the second case, less complicated sharing with anyone who cared for to help listen how you possessed by far the most wonderful experience involving your life you get. The reason why? Well, maybe simply because self applied pleasure is, effectively, practically nothing special. You can accomplish the item anytime you would like. Of course influencing the actual person of your ambitions is very an accomplishment. Zero wonder you may need an market. But what when you have the friend like me. A pal who is crazy plenty of individuals you did anyone wank off yesterday evening? Ended up being it good? Precisely what could you do then? Would likely you inform your friend concerning the hot web site along with your experience? Would you actually merely say, "Yeah! The idea was wonderful! What with regards to you? " Or maybe will you pretend nothing acquired happened and lie... similar to you were somewhere different yesterday night time, or perhaps lead your pal in order to believe you got happy having someone?

I in the morning guessing you would probably do the particular latter. Most certainly you'll not acknowledge the act connected with masturbation. Rather you might elude the question in addition to alter the topic. And any time your close friend tells a person about a hot cure the same night, an individual would want a jar of water when you could possibly drown. Shame as well as shame would come over anyone and you would transform the issue in two times quick time period. Are you actually crazy? Noway! You will be simply one of the vast majority. And an amazing majority with that! Way more bulk that what George Rose bush had in the very last elections! The reason why -social fitness!

You are the same as the child who ran outside the movies hall that was screening process an adult film (mind a person, he had absolutely no business that they are there inside the first place! However each of the cinemas care in relation to is the good discounts associated with their tickets! )

After in the day, typically the buddy who had also been at the movies along with him, caught up together with him or her and asked, "Why from the hell's name does an individual run out? micron The youngster answered, "My mom explained if My spouse and i watched a woman acquiring naked I would switch to gemstone. And darn you Harry, a aspect of me was actually becoming stone! "

Unfortunately, often the social conditioning is definitely inappropriate. It is while wrong for the reason that social issue in 18-19th hundred years Of india, where widows were being compelled to burn well using their husbands. As drastically wrong as the church ended up being in using up Galileo with regard to implying everything was definitely not the centre from the whole world. Lily Tomlin placed it ideal, "We have reason why you should consider that man first strolled upright to free the hands for masturbation! inch If god didn't desire us to masturbate, possibly we would still become walking such as dogs and also horses!

Typically the social health and fitness is a result regarding several myths, lies along with hoaxes perpetrated by many individuals regarding personal gain. Unfortunately, that conditioning is actually like a hard enthusiast, very tough to fracture. However, with effort in addition to chanelising your energies, you may break it. Remember, the actual nuts that crack the toughest, are often the versions that taste the top! Anyone must be wondering, what sort of hell does it subject if you are guilty about fleshlight. Why wouldn't you spend time smashing this housing?

Certain objective believe that guiltiness cognizant, whether sexual remorse or perhaps in any other application form, is the most detrimental element on your mental well being. Others find that it is one involving the most destructive. Yet the biggest effect connected with guilt conscious in my opinion offers been a lack associated with confidence throughout self. At this point you are an brilliant reader. I don't want to clarify you the particular importance of self self-confidence. Specific your career, romantic relationships or any some other feature of life, lack regarding self-assurance can bring your own personal downfall. I am not really implying which will you start off to feel more secure regarding masturbation, you would certainly succeed in almost all features of life. But this will be nice step to be able to take. A useless sense of guilt that should, and they are eliminated from your mind. Recall, an ocean is built of tiny droplets involving water. Eradicate a decline at a time since due time, the water would be empty! Involving course it will take numerous millennia! The good news is, you have a tendency have an ocean rich in guily! Just some naggings occasionally!

The first action towards eradication with this shame is knowledge. There are actually hundreds and hundreds of myths around fleshlight. Most of them perpetrated by certitude, unfortunately. Nevertheless some perpetrated by simply con runners. Lets look into typically the most important ones.

one particular. Fleshlight is against often the will connected with god.

Hokum. At a single point the actual church regarded as anyone who else was overtly ardent for you to his wife a adultrater. Follow that instructing as well as your wife would end up being doing adultery! Several clergymen have become on record to help say which not merely the church's coaching concerning sexuality were not related in order to the scriptures, but that they can caused more harm when compared with good amongst people. Aside from, nowhere in the non secular instruction of any key foi is masturbation regarded incorrect.

2. Masturbation can cause erectile dysfunction.

Most men and even several girls seem to think and so. Wrong again. Lets undertake the repair of the males first. Its understandable that seeing their very own sperm flow out associated with themselves, they think that may end sometimes. Effectively, it will end eventually... maybe when you are generally 100 years old. Although until then don't be anxious. Your sperm bank is fairly unlike Standard Chartered. You could have unlimited credit here! Ejaculate is a completely replenishable useful resource, renewable on the hourly foundation! For girls, well, there is simply no schedule in the hypothesis. Probably perpetrated by outdated ladies who also never experienced an ejaculation in all their entire life!

several. Fleshlight causes acne, hairloss, skin area diseases.

This one will be my favorite. Mainly due to the fact it is one of several a great deal better scams of all occasions! Your own personal social conditioning would likely have you feel that fleshlight is not particularly healthy. But awful how? No person would present you a satisfying reply! Now some scam music artists saw this as a good fine opportunity to will sell their products just like frizzy hair growth lotions, etc. Considering that most people start masturbating throughout their teens, (the periods of pimple and additional skin problems), they'd possess you believe that this particular is a result of masturbation! Unfortunately for them, it is seeing that untrue as the direct sun light rising from the western world! Fleshlight has no actual side effects!

some. Masturbating will make you slender and skinny!

Then there is no need for diet program pills and exercise routines my friend! And almost all surely 70% of US would not be overweight!

your five. Merely Kids masturbate!

Exactly why can you say that? My partner and i wonder! Very well quite not true, most grownups masturbate... yes even after marital life!

some. Masturbation is for guys.

And it is intended for 70% in the women way too. That's right, 2/3 regarding all females masturbate!

8. Only losers masturbate!

Yet another of my favorites. Simply goes to show merely how much of the taboo is masturbation! Right off the bat, 00% of males and also seventy percent of females have got masturbated at least once with their existence. Now that will is a hell of your lot of losers avoid you feel! Nothing far more that I can also add genuinely... this is really the particular supreme insecurity amongst men and women with regards to self pleasure.

6. Fleshlight is for homosexuals.

Wow. Exactly where did in which one originate! An individual have to make a etymology of the myths, would make to get an intriguing read! Merely as untrue because just about all these myths, masturbation along with homosexuality have nothing in accordance. Some people masturbate to be able to their dreams of contrary sex, some others to their own fantasies of similar sexual. That's it.

being unfaithful. Fleshlight will make you impaired!

Others claim that fleshlight is usually bad for your personal eyesight. Nonetheless their states are unsupported by specifics and health care advice. We suggest you talk for you to your standard physician in addition to he will describe anyone what a load involving bull this is.

twelve. Fleshlight changes the appearance of your manhood

Nicely, it does make the idea firm. But believe us, after you orgasm, the firmness fully gone! So no. Fleshlight provides absolutely no influence on how the penis appears to be.

[the-firebird69]

And yes the woman in the Walmart and others called the cops it said he's harassing him in a way that is very vulgar and a lot of Max saw it and saying he's saying he's a Mac and do this to him do this to the max and we said we've had enough this foreigners had a door you get the hell out of our face and he wouldn't so they called the cops and had him arrested

They came out and gave statements his waving his arms around this guy's wanted felon he's bothered by him he's trying to Max his bike up we saw him doing and told him not to the cops wrote it all down and took him away the cops waved and said do not bring him back here said well I can explain the game it'll make everybody feel better he doesn't care what happens to me he wants me someone intact and it's the truth to kidnap me to try and take over the comet Empire and other things in space and to launch some threats to verify it and that's what he's doing so he doesn't care about anyone and he's getting rid of his own so he has a certain number I guess you could probably get rid of his astronauts and stuff and he'd have a lot more to worry about in this calm cool collected humongous loser and pain in the ass and Tommy f is his competition

Both of them worked over the situation in the mental hospital and George was doing it and they're out and the computers are working the whole situation but these two won't back off me they never do you can jam it right to him it's still going to be idiots just wait until tomorrow the sky net thing it's huge losers

My son said that part and it's true he's our son is my grand nephew and it's true too but boy this is really a saga these two idiots Trump and John remillard they take the cake man they suck so bad other people have stuff and they're not running around like jackasses with their head cut off hoping to get hit we're going to hit these people they don't seem to care they're so damn dumb well you know we have you shot right John remillard we have a shot hello listen we have you shot for what you're doing the same to my people when you saying it's me but you're not listening again hey turd turn you're going to get shot today what you doing right now can you hear that it's audible no you're hoping to get shot so you can blame him we didn't say where how about a 12 gauge your head right to your temple that's what happens every f****** day they tell you and you do this like you're avoiding it like some sort of complete f****** smash you making garth look like a genius. And Tommy if you're knocked out beyond belief you're narked out.

So putting a hit on you John remillard because you don't get it what we said is stop what you're doing are you going to get shot and he's doing the antics to show us how stupid you look to him this f****** freaky piece of s*** in front of him everyday then the stupid freaky act it's so non-human we should be slaughtering you you're like a primate that's completely insane we're going to start doing that we need to get very aggressive with you and your group we need to put you down you're a sick animal we're handling Tommy f anyways along with you as a matter of fact your fleets being sought out right now by everybody's fleet especially Tommy f is stupid loser he's not involved at all what the f*** are you but an a****** man I'm going to punch you myself you piece and Zeus and Hera asked me to come in here and do it now come through the backyard cuz he always threatens too and smash his face into his brain so useless turd so I'm going to do that

Thor Freya

[guysbeingdudesbeingbros]

Pulled Into The Middle ~ George Centric

Prompt: I love your imagines and one shots and can you please write one where the boys get into a fight and George gets hurt? Thank you.

It was very rare that the boys got into a fight. Most of the time, they got along great. But, like most people, the more time you spend in constant contact with someone, the more likely you will get annoyed at them.

Their fights were never serious, mostly over silly, little things that they would disagree about for a few hours and then laugh about later.

This was not one of those times, though.

The boys were on tour with Sabrina Carpenter, traveling all over and performing shows together. They were loving the opportunities to play in places they've never been, meet more fans they haven't had the chance to, and bond with each other. Everything was perfect.

They had two travel days between shows, and they would be spending the majority of the two days on the tour bus. Which was fine, they had video games, movies, and wifi to entertain themselves.

A couple hours into their first travel day, Blake and Reece decided to hold a huge Fifa tournament with everyone on the bus. George didn't want to play, but after a lot of begging from the other two, finally gave in.

George beat Ben and Tanner, but lost to Reece, causing Reece and Blake to be in the final against each other. George sat between them on the couch, watching the two become fully immersed in their game.

It was very amusing for George to watch them battle each other, Blake kept jumping off of the couch each time he almost scored a goal, and Reece cursed quietly when he would lose the ball. But the game was ending, and they were tied 3-3. George realized that maybe the boys were taking this too seriously just when Reece took his final shot. Blake was all ready to block it when the tour bus hit a pot hole, causing him to drop his remote. George watched as the ball went into the net, the virtual team celebrating.

"Yes!! I won!!" Reece cheered, letting out a series of happy whoops. George giggled a little, enjoying seeing Reece happy. But, Blake was not happy.

"No you didn't! That's not fair because the bus messed me up!" Blake practically yelled, glaring daggers at Reece. George felt his cheery mood disintegrate, glancing back and forth between Reece and Blake. Reece's face morphed into a smirk.

"Blake, stop being a sore loser. I won," Reece said smugly, putting his controller down and leaning back on the sofa next to George. Reece slung his arm around George, pulling him close to his side, but George didn't feel so relaxed. He watched as Blake seemed to get more angry. Uh oh, he's gonna lose it.

"I didn't lose!! You're a cheater!" Blake screamed, throwing his controller like a child. George sighed, taking out his phone with the intention of ignoring them both until they calm down. Ben sent him a text asking why Blake was screaming, causing George to tell him the whole situation. All Ben sent was laughing emojis in response, thanks for the help Ben, George thought slightly annoyed.

Reece got up at some point, standing face to face with Blake. Reece and Blake were still yelling at each other, George tuned out what they were saying until he heard his name.

"George, you were watching! Was that fair?" Reece questioned, turning to look at George. His eyebrows were raised in a I know I'm right and you know it too way. Blake was looking at George too, making him feel on the spot.

"Well, I mean I saw it but, I'm not sure..." he trailed off, really not wanting to be involved. Reece rolled his eyes, while Blake took a step closer to George grabbing his hand gently.

"Come on, Georgie! You know it's not fair! The bus made me mess up!" Blake practically begged, pulling on George's arm for emphasis. George looked between the boys again.

"I really don't want to be in the middle of this. Just redo the game," George tried to be rational about it. It was a stupid video game, they'll be over it in an hour.

"No, I'm done with him. All he ever does is cheat at games and act like he's right all the time!" Blake spat at Reece, glaring at him one final time before storming towards his bunk.

"Well, you are a sore loser who sucks at video games!" Reece shouted at Blake's retreating form, dropping onto the couch next to George once Blake was out of sight. George could tell Reece was still angry, so he didn't say anything. They just sat in silence, George scrolling through Instagram while Reece stared at the ceiling with a pissed off expression on his face.

"Boys, we are stopping for dinner! Where's Blake?" Ben announced as he walked into the back room. George was laying down on the couch, watching television, Reece on the other end of the couch on his phone. George looked to see if Reece was going to answer, but he didn't.

"Blake's in his bunk," George mumbled, turning the tv off and putting shoes on to get food. Reece continued to sit on the couch, though. Ben nodded, leaving the room to find Blake.

"Reece, you coming?" George asked softly, not wanting to set Reece off again if he was still angry. He hesitantly approached the oldest boy, standing over him slightly.

"No, I'm not hungry. You go ahead, G," Reece said, sending George a small smile and patting his hip lightly, before looking back down at his phone. George nodded even though Reece wasn't looking at him, and left the bus.

He met Ben and Tanner outside, Blake not there either. Both of the other boys decided to skip dinner which they didn't do unless they were really bothered by something. It's only been a couple hours since the fight, maybe they just need more time to cool off, George thought hopefully. Ben, Tanner, and George went off to get food, deciding to bring stuff back for Blake and Reece to eat if they get hungry later. George didn't talk much during the meal, too busy worrying about the boys. They headed back after an unusually short meal, boarding the bus silently.

George climbed onto the bus first, and immediately heard people yelling. He rushed to the back of the bus, seeing Reece standing there in a towel with soap in his hair, Blake standing near him. Both of them were red in the face and screaming like crazy.

"What's going on over here?" Tanner yelled over them, catching both of their attention.

"I was in the middle of a shower when Blake just shut the water off! And now he's saying I'm not allowed to use the soap!" Reece explained, his tone frustrated.

"He was taking too long in the shower and it's my soap! He can't use my soap!" Blake gestured wildly with his arms, narrowly missing George's head, who ducked out of the way. Blake sent George an apologetic look.

"Boys, knock it off," Ben sighed, walking away with Tanner following. The whole situation was petty and annoying.

"Georgie, can I use your soap please? Mine is lost somewhere in my suitcase," Reece asked sweetly, as if he hadn't been screaming like a wild man a minute prior. George just sighed quietly, nodding, and moved to get his bathroom stuff from his suitcase.

"G, don't give him your stuff. Let him go get his own," Blake said, punctuating his sentence with a harsh glare at Reece. Blake grabbed George's arm to make him stop walking and pulled him close to his body. Blake wrapped his arms around George possessively, staring Reece down. Reece just huffed and rolled his eyes.

"It's fine. I'll give it to him so he doesn't have to use yours," George mumbled, pulling out of Blake's hold. The youngest boy sent him a sad expression, hoping to get George on 'his' side. George squeezed passed him and got the stuff out of his bag for Reece.

"Thank you, George. You're the best!" Reece said the last part pointedly at Blake, ruffling George's hair. Blake grumbled under his breath and George went to his bunk to avoid the argument that would probably start back up again. He climbed in and put his headphones in. It was still very early, but George wanted this day to be over, the fighting was annoying and they kept dragging him in the middle. It was unfair and cruel. He fell asleep, not saying his usual goodnight to the boys.

George woke up pretty early the next morning, considering he went to bed before eight o'clock. He climbed out of his bunk quietly, with the intention of getting breakfast. Maybe a good night's sleep was all they needed to feel better. Everything's probably fine now, George thought happily as he poured some cereal for himself.

But, it didn't get better. Throughout the rest of the travel day, Blake and Reece continued to have small arguments about everything. It was exhausting listening to them. And every time they fought, they would drag George into the middle of it.

When they finally arrived at the hotel, Ben decided that Reece and Blake needed to be separated in different rooms to end the bickering.

"Me and Tanner are sharing one room, George can choose whatever room he wants to stay in," Ben announced, before going to get their room keys. Blake and Reece turned to look at George, waiting for him to make his choice. Ben, why would you do that?! George desperately asked in his head.

"Come on, G. Let's go get our room key," Blake said, gently grabbing George's hand and pulling him towards Ben.

"Wait! George is staying in my room," Reece said, grabbing George's other hand. George looked back and forth between the boys, taking in their angry expressions. Oh no, they are going to fight over me, in the middle of the hotel lobby, where everyone can see!

"George is staying with me," Blake gritted through his teeth, pulling George towards him slightly.

"No, he's staying with me!" Reece spat out, tugging George in the opposite direction, making him nearly fall over.

"Boys, stop-" George tried to end the fight before it started, but they cut him off.

"George has been my friend longer, so he's staying with me!" Blake practically shouted, drawing some attention from people nearby. George felt his arm being pulled a lot harder, both boys tightening their grips on him.

"Well, he likes me better, so he's staying with me!" Reece smugly said, tugging George very hard. A whimper came out of George's lips. They were starting to hurt him, and people were staring at them, and he was tired of the stupid fighting.

Blake squeezed George's hand tightly, enough that he knows it'll be bruised tomorrow. Reece did the same, causing George to let out a yelp.

"Stop!" George shouted, making everyone turn at look. Ben started making his way towards them quickly, noticing what was happening. Blake and Reece immediately stopped fighting, their attention on George. The smallest boy felt like he was about to explode, the backs of his eyes burning and a huge lump in his throat.

"What's going on boys?" Ben asked hesitantly, taking in their expressions and grips on George's arms.

"They are hurting me," George whimpered, trying to twist his arms out of their grasps. Once they heard him though, the boys immediately dropped his arms.

"George, we're sorry, we-" Reece began, stepping towards George.

"We weren't thinking, we didn't mean to-" Blake cut Reece off. Both of them started to apologize to George at the same time. But, George was overwhelmed and very close to crying. He backed away, not looking at any of them.

"I'm staying in my own room," George declared, grabbing a key card out of Ben's hand and practically running away. He ignored his name being called by the boys, stepping into an elevator and making his way to his room alone.

George found the hotel room, unlocking it and quickly closing the door. He leaned against it, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. And then he finally cried.

George sat there and cried for a while, he's not sure how long. He felt his phone vibrate like crazy in his pocket, but he made no attempt to check it. Once he stopped crying, he pulled on a sweatshirt, feeling cold, upset, and just awful. George was alone, without the boys for the first time since they got on tour. Part of him hated being alone, but another part was so hurt and mad about what they did. All over some stupid video game. He climbed into bed, pulling out his phone to check his messages.

106 messages in the boys' group chat, 67 messages from Reece, 73 messages from Blake, 23 from Ben and Tanner, and a plethora of phone calls and voicemails that he would never listen to.

He quickly scanned the messages, most of the ones from the boys were explaining how sorry they were, and that they were stupid, asking George if he was okay, or where he was. They were frantic, begging George to just respond so they knew he was okay. He didn't reply to any of them.

He was about to lock his phone when a new message came in.

From Ben: Let me in your room. I'm alone, I promise :)

At first, George thought about not letting Ben in, but decided that he didn't do anything wrong and he didn't really want to be alone anymore. George slowly climbed out of bed, checking the peep hole and seeing Ben standing in the hallway, alone like he said. George carefully opened the door, and Ben quickly came inside, shutting it behind him.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked, making George shrug his shoulders. Was he okay? Mentally, he felt like shit. Physically, well he hasn't checked the damage yet.

"Let me look at your arms," Ben demanded gently, almost reading George's mind. George pulled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, finally seeing the damage. There were small, blue finger shaped bruises on his wrists and hands, not really noticeable yet but they would be tomorrow. There were red lines with a couple crescent moon shaped marks on his skin. Some even were bleeding a little, where Blake's and Reece's fingernails bit his skin.

Ben winced at the sight, "Aw, Georgie," he cooed softly. The sight made George tear up again. Ben left to get medical supplies from his bag that he brought with him. He methodically cleaned the cuts and scrapes, while George let silent tears fall. They didn't mean to, they didn't mean to played in a constant loop in his mind. Blake and Reece are his best friends, they didn't mean to hurt him, they loved him. But somehow they still did.

"I'm sorry, George. I shouldn't have put you in the middle of it," Ben apologized quietly once he finished tending to George's arms.

"'S okay," George mumbled, wiping his eyes on his sleeves. Ben hugged him gently.

"Get some sleep. The boys are staying in the room across the hall. I told them they have to make up and no more fighting, ever," Ben says seriously, making George smile a little.

"Thank you," George says, waving as Ben lets himself out of the room. George is about to climb back under the covers and go to sleep, when someone pounds on his door.

He slowly creeps towards the door, not knowing who would be knocking so loud, this late at night. George take a deep breath and looks through the peep hole. He sees Blake and Reece pounding frantically on his door.

"George!! Let us in! We know you are in there, Ben just came out of there!" Blake shouts, continuing to knock on the door.

"Please George!" Reece begs. George thinks about letting them in, before deciding that he needs space from them.

"No, go away!" He calls through the door, surprised at how strong and angry his voice sounds. The knocking stops abruptly.

"Georgie, we are really sorry. We didn't mean to hurt you," Reece's voice sounds like he's about to cry. George closes his eyes. If they cry I'm done for, he thinks, knowing that his resolve will crumble regardless of what they did.

"We never wanted to hurt you and we won't ever do it again, love, we promise!" Blake calls through the door, sounding guilty and upset.

"I-I need space. Away from you both," George's voice barely makes it through the door. Reece and Blake feel their hearts break at the sound of hurt and pain in George's voice.

George steps away from the door when he doesn't hear anything else from them. He fights the urge to cry, choosing to just go to sleep and ignore everything.

In the morning, George feels better. His eyes are puffy, but he doesn't look too bad. His arms aren't as bad as he thought. There are still faint lines and prominent bruises, but he expected much worse. George sighs, pulling on a sweater to cover them. He's definitely going to wear a long sleeve shirt for the concert tonight.

Ben texts George telling him to meet him downstairs for breakfast, so he sends a quick response as he walks out of his room.

And promptly trips over something, landing on his face in the middle of the hallway. He lets out a groan before turning over to see what he tripped on.

Reece was sitting up, rubbing his back where, apparently, George tripped on him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" George asked angrily, standing up. "You could've gotten hurt, or hurt someone else! Have you idiots been out here all night?" George shouted, taking in Blake and Reece's disheveled appearances.

"We stayed to show you how much we are sorry," Blake softly said, pleading with his eyes for George to understand. Both of the boys took a step closer, silently celebrating when George didn't move away.

"We are sorry, love. I don't know how else to say it, and we hope you believe us. But we will be spending the rest of our lives regretting what we did to you and earning your trust back," Reece vowed, stepping even closer to George, who was eyeing both of them carefully, but making no move to leave or react negatively.

"We love you, George and we are very very sorry!" Blake said, opening his arms as an invitation for a hug.

"No more fighting?" George asked softly, staring at each of their eyes for an hint of doubt or dishonestly. They both shook their heads, and George saw nothing but open honesty in their faces.

So he stepped forward and hugged them both. He knew it would take a while to trust them again and for them to make up for what they did. But, it was a start. And George knew they loved him enough to never drag him into the middle of a fight again.

This is a long one because I had it written awhile ago. 

Thanks for requesting, much love 

xx