#i built the patience and skill for ignorance when in middle school these kids who would antagonize me on the bus learned my name

[mars-ipan]

genuinely the smartest (and funniest) choice i ever made in junior high was completely ignoring people who tried to bully and/or annoy me

[flightfoot]

Divergent Points - Feast

AO3/FFN

Previous installment: Divergent Points - Weredad

Turning Points

Inspired partly by this conversation I had with @fearlessinger

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Plagg curled up against Adrien, purring. It’d taken a long time for Adrien to fall asleep.

He didn’t blame him. He’d be having nightmares himself for a long time after this.

Plagg had been separated from a lot of his cats. Most of the time, it was bittersweet. On the one hand, it’s hard to be around a person a lot who wasn’t COMPLETELY despicable and not grow to care about them, at least a little.

On the other hand…

Tikki got the “nice” wielders and the “nice” powers. Sugarcube got paired with idealistic, inventive users who would quickly become fast friends with her. At worst, they’d see her mostly as a tool.

But at least she wasn’t usually considered a THREAT.

Plagg’s wielders tended to fall into two categories; the cautious wielders and the unrestrained wielders.

The cautious wielders were usually wielders he was assigned to by some outside force. The Order of the Guardians, for example. He might get to pick among a few different candidates if the person in charge was extremely generous, but this was a rare privilege.

The most dangerous kwami were rarely allowed that kind of freedom.

 And he was considered the most dangerous of them all.

Those cautious wielders were chosen for their ability to temper both their destructive impulses and his own, keeping him on a tight leash. They were rarely outright malicious about it, and if he really, truly wanted to he could probably leave… well, most of the time.

But then he’d have to leave his friends behind. And if the person was mistreating him badly enough that he was at the end of his rope and WANTED to leave…

The monk who had created the Miraculous in the first place in order to allow Kwamis to physically manifest, had also built a safeguard into every Miraculous, just in case the spirits he was trying to pull into the physical plane turned out to be malicious.

Not a totally unreasonable precaution, but it screwed him and all the other kwamis over. They’d never figured out a way to undo the compulsion, and he suspected that most of his wielders hadn’t really wanted to, either.

If his wielder was terrible enough that he wanted to bolt? It was very rare he’d be able to.

He sympathized with poor Nooroo. He’d been in that position often enough.

In those cases, he was lucky if he just wanted to leave because he felt stifled or ignored or unwanted, and his wielder was just enough of a jackass that they wouldn’t let him go or listen to him.

The unrestrained wielders were often far worse.

If he ended up with one of them, it was usually due to something going horribly wrong. His ring falling out of the Miracle box and getting lost, for instance, like what happened to Duusu and Nooroo. Or more commonly, being stolen from one of his other wielders.

With the wielder being either random or an outright thief, he’d rarely had a good time with those wielders, at least not for long. Some of them could be okay at first, giving him more freedom than he’d normally have and not treating him like he was about to launch a cataclysm at any moment.

But they were often the worst ones, because unlike the cautious wielders, they often became corrupted, if they weren’t already. The power to destroy ANYTHING, very, very easily, was a heady power, especially in the wrong hands.

He was often glad to go back to a cautious wielder after his miraculous was inevitably removed from the offender. The cautious wielders wouldn’t make him kill anyone.

Over time he’d just… tried to stop caring. Make light of destroying the dinosaurs, of sinking Atlantis, of any mistake he’d ever made, and it wouldn’t hurt as much to have it thrown back in his face.

Then he was given to Adrien.

At first, he thought this would be just like the other cases where he was assigned; given to a cautious wielder who’d be nice enough, but was ultimately there to control him. Yeah this kid was a lot younger than his usual wielders – while some of the other kwami were assigned to kids for bonding purposes, the Order of the Guardians usually assigned him to adults, who wouldn’t be influenced or persuaded by him as much – and he hadn’t been raised as a monk or even really been vetted much, but Fu had chosen him. Considering how cautious and fearful Fu was of Plagg going out of control, he doubted that the monk would’ve chosen any sort of loose cannon or free spirit as his wielder.

He’d underestimated Fu’s desperation and lack of vetting.

When Fu’d said that he’d found the right wielder for him, he’d known that Fu wouldn’t have been able to look deeply into the wielder’s background or get to know them – they were operating on only a few hours of notice. It’d made him pretty nervous about the type of person he might get, honestly. He’d seen even people who appeared nice and kind slowly become corrupted and dangerous over time.

With only having a few hours to research? There was no telling whether the wielder would be decent even at the outset.

Turns out, Fu’s actual vetting process wasn’t even THAT extensive. Wayzz had told him later that Fu had just randomly tried to walk into the middle of a busy street to see whether anyone would help him, and decided that the first person to help should be Tikki’s wielder. For finding Chat Noir, he just randomly acted like he was super frail, dropping his cane and pretending he couldn’t get up, and waited to see who’d help him. Adrien did, so Fu decided that he’d be Plagg’s wielder.

Honestly he was lucky that Adrien was as famous as he was, otherwise Fu wouldn’t have been able to find out where he lived. At least with Marinette, he’d been able to see her leaving her house beforehand.

…Okay, maybe he was being a little harsh on Fu’s vetting. He genuinely had almost no time to work with, and his tests at least established whether that person cared about the APPEARANCE of being a kind, helpful person.

Plagg shuddered. It was a good thing Lila hadn’t been around at that point. She probably would’ve passed the tests. She at least knew it was a good idea to appear helpful and kind. Made it easier to manipulate people later.

But it hadn’t been Lila.

It had been Adrien.

Even the first time he met Adrien, he liked him.

The kid was bright-eyed and thrilled to see him. Still, just because he was thrilled right off the bat didn’t mean much. Plagg had wanted to make a good first impression – they’d probably be working together for awhile after all – but also test him a bit. Feel out where the boundaries were and how controlling Adrien would be. So he gave a little test. Flying around the room trying to eat everything sounded like a great way to test his patience and his new wielder’s problem-solving capabilities.

Also it was just plain fun. He’d never have been able to get away with this in the temple!

Adrien had gotten annoyed, but nothing worse than that. Had to compliment the kid’s acrobatic skills too. The leap off his climbing wall was impressive, to say the least.

He’d given Adrien the usual spiel about not telling anyone about him, keeping his identity secret, his powers, etc. Well, maybe wasn’t fast enough on explaining his powers. Kid jumped the gun a bit on that one.

After he’d told Adrien some basics about the Miraculous, he’d gone and spread toilet paper all over his room. To his surprise, Adrien didn’t seem to care much. Around that time he’d realized that while Fu may have thought that he’d given Plagg to a cautious wielder, that definitely wasn’t the case. A cautious wielder would’ve lectured him about making a mess, probably in that calm, authoritative voice they often had. Better than the yelling he’d gotten from some of his unrestrained wielders at least.

And then…

“But I'm stuck here! I'm not even allowed to go to school! What good is a superhero who's imprisoned in his own house!”

That was the first glimpse he’d gotten of Adrien’s frustrations.

The first glimpse of the similarities between the two of them.

Their imprisonment, their caution, were for different reasons. People feared Plagg and tried to, if not imprison him, control and restrict him at least. Adrien’s father (and Plagg used that term in a loose sense) at least claimed that he was imprisoning and controlling his son to try to keep him safe. Considering how he acted whenever Adrien did something that was perfectly safe, but that didn’t benefit Gabriel and ESPECIALLY when it threatened his control? He had his doubts. Plagg had had enough wielders justify enslaving him as “keeping everyone else safe from destruction” that he knew the type.

At least Adrien had the Dupain-Chengs now. He may not have been willing to run away to stay with them permanently – yet – but they were there for him. He had a safe place to go with adults who cared about him as a person rather than what he could do for them.

Sadly, he couldn’t say that about any other adults in Adrien’s life. Gorilla came closest, but even then the most he’d really been able to do was look the other way when Adrien needed a bit more freedom than he was technically allowed. He wasn’t really able to give him the support he needed.

Plagg winced a little. While he’d given Adrien some support even early on, he tried not to give too much. Get too attached. The kid was nice and a lot more fun than most of his other wielders, but… well, he’d been burned a lot.

But Adrien had a way of worming his way into even Plagg’s cheese-obsessed heart.

He’d get annoyed with Plagg, but never in a way that suggested he was a burden or unwanted.

He genuinely enjoyed spending time with Plagg, even if most of it was just Plagg sitting around eating cheese.

Most importantly, Adrien NEEDED him. Not just for his abilities – though for that too – but as a person.

Adrien was lonely. Even when he did get to hang out with his friends – which wasn’t as often as he liked, and was prone to changing at a moment’s notice – he still didn’t feel comfortable showing all of him. He had a lot of feelings he kept repressed, that he felt like he HAD to keep repressed, because that’s what he’d been taught to do. And if he stepped out of line where his father could see… well, it wouldn’t be the first time that Gabriel had threatened to pull him from school.

Plagg had been the first person who was always there for him. Who couldn’t be taken away. Who he could express all sides of himself around. Anger, frustration, adoration… everything. Even as Chat, he mostly just let out the part of him he didn’t feel safe showing normally. He still didn’t really show every side of his personality.

Plagg had always been the one who people felt like they needed to teach and lecture.

He’d never needed to be the one to teach and provide support instead.

It made him feel needed. Wanted. In a way he’d never been before.

And this kid…

He looked at Adrien’s sleeping face as he twitched, making small distressed noises.

Plagg snuggled up against him harder. “Don’t worry, kitten,” he whispered. “I won’t leave you. Not forever. I’ll always come back.”

Somewhere along the way, Adrien had turned from just a kid, to being HIS kitten.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the change had occurred. It just kind of… was. But he knew when he first suspected it.

Adrien hated being left in the dark. Feeling like he wasn’t trusted. Wasn’t wanted.

But it wasn’t Plagg’s place to bring him to Fu without a very good reason. Not when Fu could’ve gone to Adrien at any time and chosen not to.

Plus – well, there was a more selfish reason.

He was afraid that Fu would interfere in the bond he had with his kitten. Teach him about how uncontrollable and dangerous destruction was, how out of control Plagg’s powers could get, and that he should keep him on a tight leash.

Even as Adrien’s frustration grew, Plagg still didn’t give in, though he was tempted. And not just by exotic stinky cheeses, though those WERE tempting.

Then Adrien reached the end of his rope. He took off his Miraculous and detransformed, believing that it genuinely didn’t matter whether he was around or not. That he wasn’t needed, that no one would notice or care if Chat just… didn’t show up.

That’s when Plagg realized just how much he cared about Adrien. And how much his kitten needed to hear that. That HE would care if Adrien wasn’t Chat Noir. If he didn’t see him again.

I  will!

Why? Because you won't have anyone to give you Camembert?

Oh, I'm sure there'll be another Chat Noir to give me cheese... but he won't be you. 

That’s what Adrien needed. People who genuinely trusted and respected him as a person, and not as a tool. Who valued his feelings and opinions.

As nervous as Plagg had been about how Fu’s interference could affect his bond with Adrien, he was glad he’d showed up right then. That Marinette had cared about her partner’s distress over the seeming lack of trust – of not even having enough information to know WHY he was being left in the dark – to push Fu into talking to Adrien directly. To showing Adrien that it wasn’t that Ladybug didn’t trust him or believe they were equals, but that it was just Fu’s commands, and it wasn’t her secret to tell.

Even if it meant that Adrien might put him on a tighter leash, if meeting with Fu helped Adrien… well, he’d survived being restricted before.

But that hadn’t happened. In either sense.

Sure, Fu had met with Adrien ONCE – but that was it. Only once. And only after being pressured first.

Plagg kept on waiting for Fu to contact Adrien again. He might not be able to hand out his address – with Marinette visiting regularly, there was too much chance of them bumping into each other – but he could still drop by and visit Adrien. Or even ask Ladybug to arrange a private meeting between him and Chat Noir, if he couldn’t get to Adrien without being spotted.

But he just… hadn’t.

Plagg had entertained the idea of asking him on one of the occasions he himself went back over there, but he doubted he’d get a satisfying answer. It hadn’t seemed worth having a confrontation about at the time.

Even at that point though, he still wasn’t quite ready to tell Adrien everything. He trusted Adrien, he really did, but… well, old habits die hard. He was terrified that this would all end, and Adrien would turn cold and controlling, like some of his other wielders.

Which was why for Nooroo’s birthday, he created a stand-in and didn’t tell Adrien that he was leaving. They were already going behind Fu’s back to do this. Going behind his wielder’s back just seemed normal. Natural.

When Tikki had told him that she’d just told her own wielder exactly what she was doing, he wasn’t surprised. Tikki rarely got the controlling ones. Telling the truth rarely had negative repercussions for her.

Then the akuma happened.

And Plagg hadn’t been there.

When Adrien had needed him most, he WASN’T THERE.

And Adrien didn’t even know what’d happened to him.

He’d flown back to Adrien as quickly as he could.

Finding him imprisoned in his room, alone, desperately pulling on bars he KNEW wouldn’t bend  - he’d known that Adrien feared being imprisoned. That he lived in a gilded cage, one that Gabriel would open the door of occasionally, but that Adrien always had to return to lest he lose that right.

And worse than being imprisoned? Being alone.

Without even knowing why the person he’d cared for, the person who’d cared for HIM, had vanished.

He’d felt pretty guilty after that, especially seeing Tikki and Marinette affirm how much they trusted each other.

Because honestly?

He trusted Adrien too.

He might have hang-ups about his previous wielders, but taking that out on Adrien was unfair. And that day, it had hurt him. Badly.

So when Adrien had told him that he knew what it was like to have his freedom restricted, that he didn’t need to sneak around to leave – that was when he’d decided.

His previous wielders were his previous wielders. They were NOT Adrien.

And it was high time he returned the trust that Adrien had placed in him.

Because Adrien placed a LOT of trust in him. He didn’t even fear his powers! Everyone else was always worried about Plagg going out of control and destroying everything, even his fellow kwamis.

Adrien had never doubted him.

On Heroes Day, he showed no fear or trepidation about Plagg causing a little destruction in the street to let Adrien escape from Gorizilla and transform. He KNEW he could do it. And when he did? When he managed to keep his powers in check himself, only causing as much destruction as was needed? Adrien had patted him on the head and called him his hero.

Now it was time to be Adrien’s hero again.

Carefully, he extricated himself from Adrien’s side. Now would be the WORST time to wake him. Seeing Plagg gone after what he’d just been through? Would be his worst nightmare.

But at least Adrien still had the ring this time. He’d know that Plagg hadn’t been stolen. And he trusted that Plagg would come back.

Still, best to be back before Adrien noticed he was gone.

He looked back at Adrien – his wielder, his best friend, his kitten – and flew off into the night.

Fu was sound asleep when he arrived.

Unsurprising. Feast being around wouldn’t have been conducive to sleep, even if Fu HADN’T pulled his little escapade during the middle of the night.

He was probably exhausted after the kind of day he’d had.

Unfortunately for Fu, Plagg, frankly, didn’t give a crap about that.

If he didn’t want to do this now? Tough luck.

“WAKE UP!”

Fu startled awake, flailing wildly.

“WHA-?”

Wayzz appeared at his side. “Plagg, what are you doing here? Master needs his sleep.”

Plagg growled. “Well, he should’ve THOUGHT of that before KIDNAPPING ME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!”

“I had to,” Fu mumbled groggily, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Feast would’ve eaten Adrien and Marinette otherwise.”

Plagg glared at Fu, then took a deep breath. “You were willing to put your own life in danger from Feast, but not theirs. You believed that taking their Miraculous was the only way to keep them safe. Fine. I can respect that.”

“What I CAN’T respect is everything you did surrounding that.”

Fu looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“You gave me and Tikki to Marinette and Adrien with almost no explanation, no training, and no support. And I was fine with that at first! Just sink or swim, either they’d manage or they wouldn’t.”

“But then I got to know them better. And I got to CARE about them. Fu, Marinette is drowning in her responsibilities. I don’t get to see as much of her as I do Adrien, but- well, she’s not subtle about it, and Chat’s one of the few people she can open up to about it. It’s gotten better recently since she can talk to Alya and Nino about it as well –“

Fu’s head shot up. “What! Alya and Nino know her identity?”

Oops. He didn’t mean to let that little fact slip.

“For how long?! Marinette knows the rule-“

Oh HELL no.

“THAT IS A STUPID-ASS RULE!” Plagg shouted. The shop shook slightly, his destructive energy leaking out – though thankfully not enough to actually cause permanent damage.

Still, he needed to reign himself in. Destroying Fu – or the rest of Paris – was not on his agenda.

He wanted to shake Fu and make him understand what he was doing wrong, not make him go the way of the dinosaurs.

Once everything stopped shaking, he took another deep breath and continued. “I understand the reason you don’t want anyone else to know their identities. If Hawkmoth akumatized or just had the right mind control akuma take control of that person, their identities could be jeopardized, putting them, as well as Tikki and I, in danger.”

“But you know what? NOT having anyone else know their identities is ALSO dangerous.”

“They’ve both been suffocating, Fu. Marinette in her responsibilities and the pressure to maintain her double life, and Adrien with not being able to really show all sides of himself, and of having very little stable support.”

Fu frowned. “Marinette is a bright young woman who has handled the Ladybug Miraculous admirably, and Adrien seems to have managed well enough before now.”

Plagg bit back some nasty curses. Best not to destroy the shop. Or Fu, he guessed. “Yes, they’ve MANAGED. Which is more of a testament to how resilient they are than anything you’ve done. But the point is, just because they’ve MANAGED doesn’t mean that they should be expected to! They’re only FOURTEEN. They need more support and help than you’ve given them – than you can provide. Alya and Nino give them that. They were able to take babysitting off Marinette’s shoulders, help them sneak out when they need to transform, and just generally have their backs!”

“Wait, so they know not only Marinette’s, but also Adrien’s-“

Plagg flew up to Fu’s face, an inch from his nose. “If you even THINK about taking me away from Adrien again, I will cataclysm you where you stand.”

“Plagg!” Wayzz shouted, dismayed. “How could you threaten-“

“How could I? HOW COULD I?!” Plagg screamed. Vases started to rattle.

Deep breaths, Plagg. Think of cheese. Lovely, delicious, stinky cheese.

After getting a handle on himself, he spoke, struggling to keep his voice level. “You have no idea what waking up to find me gone DID to Adrien. What that’s like for him.”

Fu frowned. “I know he’s your friend, but he survived before I gave you to him-“

Plagg growled, quivering with rage. “SURVI-“

He cut himself off as the shop started to shake again.

“PLAGG, GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF!” Wayzz yelled, positioning himself in front of Fu.

As much as Plagg hated to admit it, Wayzz was right. He needed to calm down.

Mmmm… Adrien with Camembert… Camembert bread straight from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery (seriously why couldn’t they just live there, human laws were stupid)… Marinette and Adrien kissin-

Nope. Nopenopenope. He’d seen enough of that. Those two were gross together, why would that even come up when thinking of calming things?

(He steadfastly ignored the warmth that filled his chest when he saw the two of them finally able to be together and happy. It was warmth from eating tons of cheese bread, that was all).

Ok. Back to yelling at Fu. He NEEDED to understand this.

“Do you know what his life was like before he met me?” Plagg hissed.

Fu blinked. “He’s grown up wealthy, so he’s never wanted for anything – except going to school. He models a lot, though he only started doing that in the past year, after-“

Fu’s eyes widened, realization dawning. “After his mother went missing…” he ended softly.

“Do you get it now? At least that small part of it?” Plagg asked.

“He probably had flashbacks to when his mother disappeared,” Fu murmured. “Thinking that he was losing someone else he cared about, so soon after losing a parent.”

“Yeah.” Plagg deflated slightly. “That hit him pretty hard, but he’s persevered and done REALLY well despite that. Especially considering – well, you know what you said regarding him ‘never wanting for anything’? That’s not true. At all. Him not getting to go to school? That’s the tip of the iceberg. Gabriel – that man does NOT deserve the title of ‘father’ – has kept him isolated from people for basically his whole life. Maybe his mother too, I’m not sure, I’ve been afraid to pry too much. She’s a sensitive topic, and even I know better than to stick my paw in that.”

“Anyway, Adrien’s only friend growing up was little miss cause-of-half-the-akumas-in-Paris CHLOE, and even THAT was mostly because Gabriel saw some value in having his kid be friends with the mayor’s daughter! And once Emilie went missing, he didn’t even allow Adrien to see HER! He was stuck all alone in his room with no one to talk to or support him right after losing his mother. And by ‘stuck’ I mean actually imprisoned, because yeah, Gabriel’s a DICK, and worse than that, he’s a RICH dick who can afford a security system that seals all entrances and exits in his house!

“Oh, and remember when I said Adrien was ‘alone’? Well I MEANT that. His father’s only left his house a handful of times since Emilie went missing, but does he spend any time with his son, who just lost his MOTHER? NO! He constantly makes Adrien cancel or just prevent him from making plans so they can eat together at least, but he only shows up maybe a fifth of the time! No apology, no nothing. Adrien has to drop everything to accede to his wishes, but he doesn’t even CARE enough to apologize on the few occasions when they DO see each other in person! He treats Adrien as an employee at best and an object at worst. He only holds value as long as he does EXACTLY what Gabriel says, and if he ‘fails’ him in any way – doesn’t do quite as well at a photoshoot, isn’t as perfect at piano-playing as Gabriel would like – he’s punished severely, often by taking away his ability to spend time with his friends, some of the only people who DO care about him as a person!”

“I care about Adrien!” Fu interjected, affronted.

“Do you?” Plagg growled. “You’ve only visited him ONCE, after Marinette asked you to. You’ve never asked me what his life was like or how he was feeling or doing, even though I’ve visited here a few times! So tell me, how have you showed that you care?!”

“Master was willing to let himself die to keep BOTH Adrien and Marinette safe,” Wayzz cut in. “Yes, Fu may have made some mistakes, but he DOES care.”

Plagg breathed out. “Ok, yeah. I’ll give him that. He was ready to sacrifice his life for them. But the way he did it – that didn’t exactly scream ‘I know and care about them as people’. He had you KIDNAP me ad Tikki, and he didn’t even give Adrien the luxury of knowing what was going on beyond a quick letter! The only reason he wasn’t completely lost on that was because Marinette texted him with details after talking to Fu, because she was TIRED of leaving her partner in the dark when he didn’t need to be.”

“Fu never gave me or Adrien the chance to protest or argue, present alternative plans or arguments. He never gave us the chance to decide. He just decided that that would be the best course of action, and that was that. No one else’s opinion mattered, because HE’D made a decision. If anyone protested? He shut them up.”

“Well…” Wayzz looked uncomfortable now.

“Oh.” Plagg’s voice lowered, his ears pinning back. Softly, he said, “He did it to you too, didn’t he? Shut you up when you started poking holes in his plan? When you said things that went against his decision?”

Wayzz squirmed, not looking Plagg in the eyes.

“..Yes,” Fu admitted, taking over from Wayzz. He walked over to the turtle kwami, cupping his hands, allowing him to rest in the bowl shape they formed. “I’m sorry, Wayzz. I should never have done that. I truly believed at the time that taking the Miraculous was the best move to protect them, but at the very least, I should never have tried to stop you from talking. To renounce you so I didn’t have to listen to your arguments.”

Wayzz just gave a small nod.

“You see the problem?” Plagg asked. “You care about other people’s lives – I’ll agree with that much – but you keep on forgetting that they’re people, and that they have the right to know information that affects them, to give their input, and to make their own decisions. Yes, Marinette and Adrien are young, but they’re the ones out on the field, not you. They have the right to know whatever they need to in order to make informed decisions – BOTH of them, not just Marinette. She normally takes the lead, and she’s damn good at it too, but don’t dump everything on her shoulders. Let her have support, let her lean on other people. And give other people the ability to provide that support. Yeah, you can’t tell both of them everything – there are some things even we kwami can’t be allowed to know, in case we’re compromised – but you can sure tell them more than you have. Like for instance, what happens when a Guardian renounces their Guardianship?

Fu flinched. “I don’t know how much longer I have before Hawkmoth catches up with me. I don’t want her to worry before then.”

Plagg’s tail lashed. “Oh sure, and you don’t think she might worry AT THE TIME?! I know she’s a superhero, but she’s still HUMAN! And she’s just a kid! I understand not wanting to worry her, but when you plan to dump the guardianship on her lap, she has a right to know what it comes with!”

“And that’s another thing – did you ever bother to really ASK her whether she was okay with being Guardian? Or did you just decide she would be?”

Fu looked at the ground, mumbling. “That’s how it’s always been done…”

“Yeah, and ‘how it’s always been done’ is STUPID,” Plagg said. “Look. Honestly? You’re a decent Guardian compared to some of the others I’ve had to put up with. But that’s not saying much, and Adrien and Marinette deserve better.”

As Fu opened his mouth, Plagg hastily added, “And by that I do NOT mean shove the Miracle Box onto Marinette and skip out of their lives! –well, let’s be honest, out of HER life, you’ve never done squat with Adrien.”

“The sad thing is? I’m not sure who has it worse – Marinette for being the one you shove everything onto, or Adrien for being left in the dark.”

Fu was quiet for a moment.

After a few tense moments, he spoke. “I knew I had failed as a Guardian – that I was never even really a Guardian in the first place – but I’d never realized I’d failed these young people so badly.”

Plagg nodded. “Yeah. You have. But that doesn’t mean you can just skip out because you did poorly. You made this mess. Now, you need to fix it as best you can.”

Fu nodded, determination shining in his eyes. “What do you recommend? Beyond what you’ve already said.”

“Well for one thing, actually try to get to KNOW Adrien. Talk to him, treat him as a person, not just a tool. Let Marinette and Adrien know that the secret identity rule is rescinded, reassure them that you won’t take their Miraculous, and that you’re ok with Alya and Nino knowing.”

Plagg hesitated a moment, but then plowed on. “And… this one really IS more of a suggestion, not an order. But. Maybe observe Alya and Nino and get to know them as well? I think they might also be good candidates for permanent Miraculous, and Nino might be a better Guardian candidate than Marinette. Not because she’s not perfectly capable – she’d make an awesome Guardian I’m sure – but because that’s really too much to dump on her, and to prevent hers and Chat’s relationship from becoming too imbalanced again. Divide the responsibility, so it’s not all resting on a single person’s shoulders – especially when they haven’t agreed to it, and don’t know what all it entails.”

Fu closed his eyes, contemplating. “If you think that’s best, then I’ll follow your suggestions. If there’s one thing this incident with Feast has taught me, it’s to listen to others seriously. And honestly – you’re right. About everything. And… I’m sorry.”

“Apologize to Marinette and Adrien, and try to fix this mess. THAT, will be a sufficient apology,” Plagg said.

Fu smiled. “I will.”

As Plagg flew towards the window, Fu called out, “Oh, and Plagg?”

Plagg stopped, turning around. “What?”

“Thank you.”

Plagg grinned. “Hey, I’ll give you a kick in the butt whenever you need it. Just – don’t need it again, alright?”

He flew off into the night, back towards his kitten.

It looked like things would change for the better.

[fireflysummers]

Mob Psycho 100 x Paranatural

Okay my dudes, I figure I may as well put these ideas down in one post since I don’t have time to draw them (or any more at least). They all stemmed from a convo a month or two ago between me and @happikattwuzheere concerning how Reigen is the Anti-Spender.

@7bluecats and @cocoa-bee I think you two were asking about this general stuff.

-cracks knuckles- 

Okay so. I have like. Several variations on the theme.

1. Total Crossover: The cast of paranatural meets the cast of MP100 (ignoring language barriers and geographical locations)

Or: The Fun AU where friendships and rivalries abound and there’s not much angst

Johnny immediately picks Mob out for a wimp and attempts to intimidate him...he is immediately stopped by (1) Ritsu, (2) Teru, (3) The Body Improvement Club

Dimple terrorizes PJ and attempts to arm wrestle Lefty

Suzy and Mezato meet. Even to those not physically present, there is an immediate chill as though some unholy partnership has been formed. (Alternatively they also compete for information because one girl is a master at bribery and blackmail, the other one literally started her own cult in her classmate’s image)

Reigen left hooks Spender for putting kids in the line of danger in order to satisfy his own ego (”You f*cked up some perfectly good children is what you did. Look at them. They’ve got anxiety!”)

Spender attempts to convince Mob (and the other Esper kids) to be his disciples. Shou laughs. Ritsu hates him more than he distrusts Reigen. Teru laughs and insults his choice of clothing. Mob is uncomfortable.

Salt Mid Student Council v Mayview Mid Student Council: an immovable object meets an unstoppable force

idk but Tome and Lisa look like they could be related all right?

The Esper kids in general get along with the Activity Club

Isaac and Ritsu have literally no patience for each other; Isaac and Teru have no patience for each other because Teru keeps insisting that he (and especially Mob) are probably stronger than Isaac

Isabel challenges them all to arm wrestles. To Shou’s horror, she wins them all.

Ed and Teru for some reason actually hit it off. Mostly because Teru is a movie buff like Ed and Ed is an invaluable source of creative ideas that Teru can actual implement in battle.

Shou (on Isaac): HAHA LOOK IT’S LIKE ME AND YOU FUSED TOGETHER TO MAKE ONE SUPER VOLATILE ANGST LORD

Max doesn’t really like Reigen, but he doesn’t immediately distrust him either because, despite being a con man, Reigen is by and large more honest than Spender

Max isn’t sure if he likes Mob, but he’s nice to him. He finds Teru obnoxious, but finds Ritsu tolerable in a way that Isaac isn’t. Mostly because Ritsu doesn’t demand things like loyalty and friendship right out. He gets along best with Shou, who is King at Wicked Stunts and Lighting Stuff on Fire.

Johnny is kind of terrified of Teru because Teru has expertise in dealing with delinquents and isn’t afraid to pull that card (even without the use of his psychic powers)

Hitball tourney between the two schools. Mob spends the entire time surrounded by the Body Improvement Club. People are reasonably intimidated. Despite that though the teams are pretty evenly matched.

BL makes the mistake of trying to connect into Mob’s mind. She disconnects that one REAL FAST.

Matsuo comes home with a new collection of mundane objects that are infused with spirits of all kinds

Mob accidentally pops the bubble surrounding Mayview and unleashes the apocalypse

2. Spender is Reigen

Spender is a legitimate psychic who runs the Spirits and Such Consultation.

He is a good bit less successful than Reigen because he is actually relatively bad with interpersonal relationships

Also his main goal is boosting his own ego, as opposed to Reigen who was kind of bored but mostly wanted to help people somehow

tbh I don’t think that Mob would have stuck around Spender like he did Reigen. Spender talks too much about himself, and as hard as he tries to be inspirational he lacks the sincerity and emotional depth that Reigen does to pull it off.

But assuming that Mob did stick around, I don’t think that Spender would be healthy to his maturity

Spender wouldn’t trust Mob to make decisions as a rational individual. He’d treat him like he was kind of dumb, just because Mob approaches thoughts very differently from most people. He’d maybe try to shelter him out of this weird protective instinct, but he wouldn’t really respect Mob as an intelligent individual (and he is, that smackdown with Touchirou shows that he not only thinksa bout stuff, he thinks deeply)

Spender would take Mob’s silence as approval. All the time. 

Spender would however be able to teach Mob how to channel his powers to an extent but his teaching would always be hampered by his own inferiority complex regarding Mob’s natural ability.

In the end, Mob would have more technical mastery of his psychic skills (despite that not being what he REALLY wants out of life anyways), and also likely be a lot more doubtful of his own decisions and less likely to take risks

This story would end with the Mogami arc, wherein Spender would think himself the True Hero as he does, and attempt to take on Mogami himself.  He dies.

3. Reigen is Spender

The least developed of the AUs, in which Reigen is an American middle school teacher

He still doesn’t have powers, beyond being able to see the spirits. He can’t use spectral energy or use weapons. 

Everybody thinks he can though

As in, BL thinks that he’s an incredibly powerful spectral because he keeps resisting her attempts to link with him mentally. In reality he doesn’t even know that that dream stuff exists, or is vaguely aware of it only.

He’s known for being a little bit scattered as a teacher, easily flustered and known to bullshit his way through stuff that he obviously doesn’t know

Despite that he’s well loved because at the end of the day, no matter how frustrated or tired he is, he legitimately gives the impression that he cares about his students.

He’s slightly better at handling Isaac than Spender is. For starters, he actually gives Isaac a degree of respect, answering him honestly where he can and giving him “I can’t tell you that right now, but I promise I’ll tell you when you’re no longer inhabited by a highly dangerous spirit monster okay?” where he can’t

Also he wouldn’t have fought Forge. I mean, he doesn’t have any powers anyways, and because holy shit that thing spits fire. If the kids were in danger he would have ditched so fast because the kids always come first.

Actually he probably would have called off the mission the minute that things started turning out more dangerous than projected

Zarei would probably still hate him though because he’s the type of guy who gets under her skin

Day is sneaky af and Reigen wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating her like literally everybody else in the series right now

He’s legitimately worried about Max, who has clearly not moved on from mourning his mother. He’s a lot more attentive to this as a motivator in Max’s actions, and although he won’t ask about it directly he’s definitely checking for warning signs

He’s nearly gotten fired three times for physically threatening students (they deserved it but whatever)

Has been called a coward many, many times by almost every character in the series. Literally does not care because the people he cares about are still, by and large, alive

4. Max’s Mogami World

I don’t really remember the context of this one but it definitely started with discussing how differently Mogami’s world would have presented itself

There are a number of context clues implying that Max feels guilt over his mother’s death, so his isolation in the mind world is built around that

In this world, he still has a dad and a sister, but they both blame him for what happened to his mom. Not verbally, usually, but definitely in the coldness towards him and the way that look at him when they think he’s not looking

The move to Mayview isolates him completely, and he’s not brought into a circle of friends at his new school

Physical bullying doesn’t bother him nearly as much, because he knows how to fight back, but he takes to ditching school in an attempt to avoid his tormentors. This, in turn, causes a lot of the teachers to label him as a delinquent and start treating him more poorly

Minori (or the character equivalent in this world) finds out about Max’s mom somehow (via Suzy or somebody else snooping around), and uses that knowledge to emotionally bully Max into a corner

Max is the only one in the Paranatural cast that would have survived longer than a week in a Mogami world. Everybody else would have been too easy to pull apart.

Except maybe Ed. Mogami wouldn’t know what the heck to do with Ed. (Nobody does.)

I may have to add stuff later because I can’t remember what other stuff we talked about, but Katt and I did develop a fun new painful theory or two from this mess of stuff.

[boschlingtumbles]

It’s a Nice Day for a White Wedding (Chapters 4 - 9)

Chapter 4 – Stannis

Stannis groaned as the phone went off at three in the morning. In the pitch black, he groggily reached for it, his hand groping blindly across the bedside table. Finally he found it and cracked an eye open.

A picture of Robert mid sneeze greeted him.

With a sigh, Stannis sent it to voicemail. Trust Robert to get wasted and decide that three in the morning was an appropriate time for a heart to heart. Didn’t he have practice tomorrow morning? Didn’t his entire job depend on some measure of well-rested sobriety?

Stannis ground his teeth and snuggled deeper into the bed. 

He was just drifting back to sleep when Melisandre’s phone began buzzing.

Stannis groaned again. Not a good sign.

There was a pause as the phone continued to ring cheerily and Melisandre fumbled for it in the darkness. Stannis didn’t even bother trying to see who was calling because there was only one possibility.

“Hi Thoros,” Melisandre yawned. Something inaudible on the other end.

“It’s three in the morning and I’m a two hour drive away, can’t you ask Beric?”

Another pause.

“Ha Beric too?” Melisandre sounded amused. “Well I suppose that’s a sight worth driving two hours for. I’ll see you in a while.”

The phone was placed back on the bedside table. The bed shifted as Melisandre got up.

“Thoros and Robert and Beric are all in the drunk tank at Oldtown. I’m going to drive out there and pick them up,” Melisandre said.

Stannis grunted.

Melisandre went into their bathroom and the light turned on. Stannis rolled onto his other side. He could hear the faucet turn on as she began to wash her face and he moved the pillow over his head to block out the sound.

The bed shifted again as Melisandre sat down to pull her boots on.

“Fine, I’m coming!” Stannis huffed.

“As you like,” Melisandre said serenely.

Stannis continued to brood in the car. It was just like his brother. And her brother for that matter. They were two peas in a disastrous slow-motion car crash of a pod. Selfish, irresponsible, completely disrespectful of authority...

“If you’re going to keep grinding your teeth, I’m going to have to make you another dentist appointment,” Melisandre warned from the passenger seat.

Stannis unclenched his jaw. Robert got this from their parents, who were currently hunting big game in Sothyros. If anything, all three Baratheons had turned out rather well considering they had been raised like feral animals with a checkbook. Where Thoros had gotten it from, Stannis had no idea since he’d never actually met Melisandre’s parents, who had basically abandoned their children in high school.

No, Robert was their father through and through. Steffon had spent years assuring them that the family shipping company was fine being entirely managed by a board of directors comprised of half a dozen of his father’s golfing chums. Of course the moment Stannis had looked into it, it had been clear that the company that had been in the family for five generations was if not hemorrhaging money, not thriving like Stannis knew it could with robust leadership. There had been nothing for it but to graduate college in three years and take over the business and give it the kick in the pants it needed. In the last two years, Stormsend Shipping had consistently beat market competitors and their profits had grown.

Meanwhile, Robert was off playing professional football. Sure he made a couple million a year at it, but it didn’t change the fact that he was wasting his life doing exactly what children did on the playground. So much for being a contributing member of society. And while Steffon and Cassana had never once mentioned Stannis’ feature article in Forbes, there was nothing they liked better at a cocktail party than to name drop their son Robert, the professional athlete. Meanwhile Stannis was the one who graduated early summa cum laude, Stannis was the one securing the family legacy, Stannis was the one making sure he and his brothers would be comfortable for the rest of their lives (not an easy task given Robert and Renly’s spending habits).

“Don’t glower like that, your face will stick,” Melisandre teased, snaking her arm around his elbow and kissing him on the temple.

Stannis slowly felt the tension ebb away. It was not Robert’s fault that their parents could not be bothered to do normal parent things like care. He didn’t need their approval anyway. This life that he and Mel had built together made him happy and that was enough.

They pulled up to the Oldtown police station as dawn broke across the sky. The station seemed surprisingly busy for five in the morning. 

“Do you want to wait in the car?” Melisandre offered.

“Drove all the way here, I may as well get to watch you yell at them,” Stannis smiled. 

“I’m not going to yell, I’m just disappointed,” Melisandre said drily.

“That’s the spirit,” Stannis opened the door for her.

Frankly the police seemed all too relieved to be rid of them. Nobody was pressing charges, nobody was hurt... Melisandre and Stannis were escorted back as the officer talked.

The holding cell was full of all manner of disreputable characters, and Stannis would have taken some pleasure in letting Robert languish for another hour or two were he not convinced that Robert felt right at home. The man in question was retelling some football game to a group of college kids in Maesters jerseys who were eagerly hanging on to every word.

Thoros looked up on their entrance and waved, the movement jostling Beric who had been using his shoulder as a pillow.

“Stanny!” Robert shouted. “This is my bro guys, the one I was telling you about.”

The guys turned to look. Stannis internally sighed at the confused expression. They had the same black hair and dark blue eyes, but that was where the family resemblance ended. He was shorter and significantly leaner than Robert. Robert looked younger than his twenty four years and Stannis looked older than his twenty two. Side by side, it would not have been clear who the older brother was.

“Robert,” Stannis nodded stiffly.

“You three out,” the police officer snapped, putting an end to their touching reunion.

“I hope you are all ashamed of yourselves,” Melisandre said haughtily. 

Robert scratched his ass. Thoros yawned.

“I am,” Beric said mournfully, and then promptly clapped a hand over his mouth. Stannis eyed him warily but Beric managed to relax after a minute with no further incident, although the color had drained from his face.

“Well I’m proud of you,” Thoros said stubbornly. “Douchebag had it coming.”

“Did I have it coming?!” Melisandre snapped. “Did I deserve to be woken up in the middle of the night from my deliciously cozy bed and dragged from the strong arms of my boyfriend—“

“His arms aren’t strong,” Robert interjected. “He’s never beaten me in arm-wrestling.”

“You are a professional athlete!” Stannis snapped. “Maybe if someone paid me millions of dollars to lift weights I would.”

“—drive hours through the darkness across the country to rescue you and now it’s already morning and I’m going to have to use a sick day at the lab and you haven’t even said thank you,” Melisandre ignored the Baratheons entirely as she lectured Thoros who was looking sullen.

“Thank you, Mel, now stop yelling and we can go back to the pub and I’ll make everybody breakfast,” Thoros offered. 

“YES! Gods I’m starving, I could eat a moose,” Robert beamed. “Everything just keeps getting better and better.”

As he said that, the door to the police station swung open with a crack.

“ROBERT!” The scream was pure fury distilled into a sound that cut through the room like scalpel. Robert’s face fell.

An all too familiar willowy blonde stormed into the station, flanked by Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth.

“Hide me!” Robert whispered and dove behind him. Stannis blinked. He was still completely visible, as Robert was significantly larger than him.

Cersei Lannister marched up to them, and treating the rest of them more or less as furniture, planted herself in front of Robert, eye twitching.

“Hi queen—“

“DON’T—YOU—QUEENIE—ME!” Cersei howled, punctuating each word by whacking him with a rolled up magazine. Finally Robert picked up Stannis and put him between them again.

When the next blow of the magazine hit him instead of Robert, Stannis decided he had had enough. He caught the magazine and yanked it firmly out of Cersei’s grip.

“What are you doing here?” He asked Brienne. “Renly said you were in Hardhome?”

“Cersei caught the evening edition of that,” Brienne said glumly, jerking her head toward the magazine.

Stannis unrolled the offending object. Just a normal tabloid glossy, the usual trash, weddings, divorces, bar brawl.... oh.

“Congrats,” he said to Robert. “Your stupid fight made the magazine.”

“Not just any magazine!” Cersei wailed. “That’s Yes! Weekly, they have three million subscribers! What kind of publicity is that for our wedding?!”

Wedding?

“You’re working yourself up again,” Jaime said soothingly, trying to pull his sister away from Robert. “Deep breaths. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

BABY?!

“Explain,” Stannis growled at Robert. 

“Well when a boy and a girl love each other very much—“ there was a harsh bark of laughter from Cersei, “I mean when a boy loves a girl very much and she’s using him for sex because he has mind blowing skills in the bedroom—“ 

“Robert!” Stannis felt his fraying patience snap. “Did you knock Cersei up and not tell me?!”

“To be fair, I only found out like two days ago. Surprise, you’re going to be an uncle,” Robert patted Stannis on the head.

“That was forty-eight hours ago! Is your phone broken?!”

“Excuse me?” Cersei tried to break in.

“I knew it! I knew this day would come, you irresponsible idiot!”

“See this is why I don’t tell you things Stanny, you don’t have any sense of humor—“

“It’s a child Robert! Not some hilarious misunderstanding with the Myrrish mafia! Haven’t you ever heard of a fucking condom?!”

“Excuse me!” Cersei stomped on Robert foot hard with her stiletto heel and simultaneously smacked Stannis in the back of the head. Ow?

“If the two of you are quite done with whatever hissy fit this is, can we refocus on MY PROBLEMS?!” Cersei snapped. “Robert, I need to convince Vogue to do a feature length story and full spread of our wedding in two months, even though it will require them to completely reshuffle that issue. But maybe, just maybe, I can sell it as a universally adored and admired socialite marrying her childhood sweetheart. What I cannot do is sell it as some kind of appalling shotgun wedding to a drunken second-string football player with ANGER MANAGEMENT ISSUES!”

There was a pause.

“I’m not second-string,” Robert said sulkily. “I’m the starting quarterback.”

Jaime managed to grab Cersei before she could claw his eyes out, holding her from behind until she ceased struggling.

“Let’s all get breakfast,” Thoros interjected, pushing Robert away from the Lannisters. “Things will seem better once we’ve all had something to eat. Also, those guys totally had it coming.”

“You keep saying that,” Melisandre rolled her eyes. “What did they do, bring up the three interceptions?”

“It was one bad game!” Robert whined. “And yes. And then that guy called Beric maimed and said he must be dating Thoros because he was too fucked up looking to do any better.”

Beric winced.

“What guy?” Melisandre said, in a very serene and calm voice that gave everyone present chills, Stannis included.

“It’s fine, I broke his nose,” Beric mumbled, even as Robert said “Crakehall right?”

Stannis was very quiet as they piled into the cars to drive to Thoros’ bar, because Melisandre was very quiet. He pretty much thought his girlfriend was perfect. She was brilliant and stubborn and completely fearless, not to mention way too hot for him. But if there was one character trait that he possibly liked a tiny fraction less than her other character traits, it was her tendency toward psychotically disproportionate acts of vengeance. The last person who had really gotten on her bad side, one Kinvara Volantis, had been last seen fleeing for Essos. And Thoros was family and Beric as good as—the Dondarrions had basically adopted them in high school—and Stannis was starting to feel like maybe warning this Crakehall fellow to lay low for a couple years might not be the worst thing in the world.

He, Mel, Beric and Thoros arrived at the bar first, followed by Brienne driving herself, Jaime, Cersei and Robert. He was annoyed but not surprised to find that a dramatic reconciliation had taken place between Cersei and Robert and that they were now holding hands. Jaime, trailing behind them, looked vaguely ill.

“And I’ll put a call in to Varys and it will all be sorted. I think we should move on this quickly to beat the evening news cycle. We won’t name any names of course, but it won’t be hard to let something slip to Varys, just between old school friends. We’ll do a follow story next week. We should talk to Stannis about setting up some kind of donation in your name, maybe get some photos with you throwing the football with a couple of tragic looking orphans…”

“Talk to me about what?” Stannis said flatly.

“Oh I’ve sorted everything,” Cersei waved her hand airily. “We’ll just leak a counter story that Beric was being bullied on account of his disabilities, when Robert stepped in to save the day. By the way, Beric, you probably have a Westerosis with Disabilities Act case against those boys, but I think we can probably get them expelled without you having to go to court.”

“Expelled?!” Beric blurted, looking even more ill than Jaime.

“They were harassing you for your disability,” Cersei explained slowly. “Robert naturally feels very strongly about bullying people with disabilities, because Stannis has whatever personality disorder he has…”

“I don’t have a disorder!” Stannis snapped.

“You don’t?” Cersei frowned for a second. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Then why are you so… well, never mind. So yes, Robert stepped in to save the day, and he’s going to start a foundation to provide support for children with physical disabilities to play sports.”

“Robert didn’t save me!” Beric interjected. “And I wasn’t being bullied, or not anything I couldn’t handle MYSELF, and I’m not some charity case that needs a bunch of internet strangers feeling sorry for me! I’m missing my eye, I’m not a quadruple amputee over here!”

“Details,” Cersei shook her head dismissively. “If any photographers try to snap a picture, try to look pathetic.”

Beric glared at her.

“Yes just like that,” she patted him on the shoulder. “Now how is Thoros coming on that breakfast? I’m simply famished!”

“Well you are eating for two,” Robert kissed the hand he was holding, and she beamed at him and Stannis hated them both.

Chapter 5 – Robert

Two evenings previously, Robert had been woken by the sound of someone letting themselves into his penthouse high rise. He had been passed out naked on his bed, still clutching a mostly empty handle of bourbon. Which it turned out was handy, since he was dealing with a creepy intruder in the middle of the night and needed to defend himself. As he listened to the footsteps—definitely two people—moving through his massive open floor apartment he tried to keep his eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. Once they got close he would spring and crack the bottle over the head of the first one and then gut the second with the shards. That was the plan. It was a good plan. “Robert stop being an ass and open your eyes,” an all too familiar voice snapped. “I heard your snoring stop when I let myself in.” Robert cracked an eye. Tywin Lannister was standing in the sunken sitting room area, flanked by one of the Lannister security goons, looking deeply unimpressed. “Well done. Now why don’t you get dressed like a good boy and get me something to drink,” Tywin said in a condescending sneer that made Robert wonder if he shouldn’t just stick with the plan. Robert sat up and put the bottle of bourbon down with a wistful sigh. On seeing Tywin’s arched eyebrow, he decided to double down and dressed himself like a good boy by stripping the bedsheet from the bed and folding it into a toga. Once be-toga’ed, he killed the bourbon and then swaggered past his guests to the kitchen, arcing his bottle into the recycling bin with a perfect jump shot from across the room. “Tallisker?” He asked Tywin. “If you have nothing less peaty,” Tywin sniffed. “Nope,” Robert had already started pouring. “What’s your friend having?” “Mr. Lorch isn’t drinking,” Tywin said coldly. Robert brought him the glass and then proceeded to go back and pour himself a much larger glass. “Another?” Tywin asked drily. Robert turned in some surprise. Tywin’s glass was empty. He shrugged and brought the bottle over when he returned. Tywin poured himself a second glass just as large as Robert’s. Robert flopped down in an armchair and adjusted his toga. Tywin continued to stand. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here,” Tywin began. Not really. More like how? Because this building had like doormen and shit, and his security system was pretty state of the art to keep angry and/or amorous fans at bay. “There comes a time in every man’s life when he is called upon to do the right thing. A test of character, of conscience.” Maybe this Lorch guy had special skills? Was he going to find a bunch of dead doormen when he came down tomorrow morning? “For me, that time came when I was forced to choose between a highly lucrative partnership with a childhood friend and the safety of countless strangers. I speak of course, of the episode the press so affectionately refer to as Robert’s Rebellion.” Hahaha, that’s right. Robert. That was him. They didn’t call it Tywin and Police Rebellion. They didn’t call it Jaime-Lannister-Is-An-Asshole-Who-Got-My-Brother-Shot-Rebellion. “I have always believed in nature over nurture. A child with innate gifts will find a way to rise to the top, regardless of circumstance. Frankly, you have spent your life testing that theory,” Tywin was pacing back and forth in front of the gas fireplace, which he had taken the liberty of turning on. Sure, if you’re going to break into a guy’s home in the middle of the night, why not make yourself comfortable.

“You are not without potential. Your father was much the same way. Unmotivated perhaps. I have spent your entire life watching you squander the many gifts you were born with in relative indifference. I would not have let you get away with this…” Tywin made a vague gesture that somehow encompassed Robert’s stunningly expensive flat, his toga, the bottle of Tallisker he was now drinking from—“puerile nonsense, but you are not my child.”

Thank the gods for that.

“But here we are. You are now facing your test of character, as ill-prepared as you are. And I deeply hope you will do the right thing. Truly,” Tywin glared at him, and even though Robert would never admit it to anybody, he felt just the teensiest bit unnerved. “But if you don’t, rest assured, I can think of plenty of incentives to make your choice easier. After all, accidents happen on the football field every day. Just look what happened to my son. Wouldn’t it be a shame if something like that happened to you?”

“Why don’t you cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do?” Robert said tiredly. Because you know, it was three in the morning and he was hungover and confused and a little intimidated.

“You don’t know?” Tywin raised an eyebrow. “Oh.”

The funny thing was that Tywin had been so convinced that this would be some kind of crisis for Robert. First, he liked kids. Kids were great. Cat and Ned had just had one last year and they’d named him Robb. Robert loved to visit them up north and toss his little namesake in the air and pretend that maybe one he could do this with a child that looked a little more like him.

Second, it had been increasingly obvious to Robert that even if Cersei claimed she could do better (and psh who was she kidding, he was the best), she didn’t want to do better. Every girl he’d ever dated had found him difficult to break up with, but Cersei seemed to find it impossible. She had dumped him when he graduated, then after getting back together and doing the whole long distance thing, she had dumped him when she got to school because he was being “clingy”. She had dumped him after an imbroglio with a cheerleader who could put her legs all the way behind her head. She had dumped him for flunking his world civ class. She had dumped him, she claimed, for the very last time when he had dropped out of college to join the professional football draft—but they’d still been sleeping together plenty and he knew it was only a matter of time before she yelled at him for looking at another girl because he was HER BOYFRIEND, and then they would be back on again. But that was so much work. This way seemed much easier. 

Plus they got to have a really epic party on Tywin Lannister’s dime. If she wanted him to enter riding on an elephant to greet her as she descended from a hot air balloon, that was fine in his book. Anything Cersei wanted, he was fine with. Including, whatever... this was.

“And would you say you are often subject to bullying?” Varys was asking in a sympathetic tone, pen at the ready.

“What?! No!” Beric spluttered.

“But surely you get some second looks because of your off-putting appearance.”

“I don’t have an off-putting appearance!” Beric huffed.

“So no second looks?”

“Maybe some second looks,” Beric grudgingly allowed.

“The subject was subjected to a persistent whisper campaign that made his life hell,” Varys said into a recorder. 

“I didn’t say that!” 

“Please trust the process Beric,” Varys shook his head. “And would you say that Robert has always been a hero of yours?”

“No,” Beric growled. Ouch. 

“But he’s very protective of the little guy? You know, the downtrodden, the victims, the pathetic losers?”

Beric groaned and buried his head in his arms. 

“I guess,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

“Overcome with emotion, the subject had to turn away. However, before he did, I caught a glimpse of a tear in his lone—”

“I’m not crying!” Beric snapped, lifting his head immediately.

Mostly he just looked acutely embarrassed. 

“I think it’s going well,” Cersei said, tugging at his arm and favoring him with a beaming smile.

“You do?” Robert asked dubiously. The smile faded markedly.

“I mean—you do! It’s going great!” He shifted gears. “

“Well I’ll have my people call your people about setting up a foundation,” Cersei said.

“I’m not sure I have people,” Robert admitted.

“I’ll have my people call Stannis and the Oldtown Maesters’ PR department. Varys’ story will run tomorrow, the follow up identifying this Crakehall character will run Wednesday, and I’m thinking we have a photo shoot with the children Friday to get some good press this weekend.”

“I have to be at practice Friday, there’s a game on Saturday,” Robert pointed out. Cersei narrowed her eyes.

“But the kids could come to practice,” Robert said hastily. “It’d probably be really fun for them to watch?” He hoped that would be okay with the team. Really all of this. He wasn’t in the best standing with the coach. Something about being consistently late to practice and bar fights being bad press for the team. Honestly Robert tried not to worry about it. He didn’t have time for that kind of negativity in his life.

“So how are you feeling?” He asked Cersei.

“I was feeling better before you got on the front page of Yes! Weekly,” Cersei pursed her lips. “I know it was a good cause, but I don’t have time to put out these kinds of fires before our wedding.”

“It won’t happen again,” Robert promised earnestly, squeezing her hand.

“That’s good,” Cersei rested her head on his shoulder, and he felt a giddy wave of happiness.

“Because if I lose my Vogue cover, this wedding is off,” Cersei continued sweetly. “To hell with father and to hell with you. Am I making myself quite clear?”

“Totally,” Robert swallowed. She cuddled closer.

“Oh good. And I told Jaime he could stay with you while he’s in town.”

Robert tried not to flinch. Cersei’s moody, sarcastic brother was the last person he needed to see first thing upon waking up. Well, Tywin hadn’t been a picnic. Second to last.

“He wouldn’t rather stay with you?” Robert tried to sound casual.

“Of course he would. But Brienne’s staying with me and if I let them stay together unsupervised, I’ll have to sit on my couch every day knowing my brother probably just had sex there.”

“Why doesn’t he stay with you and Brienne stays with m—“

“Really Robert, you’ll say something crass and traumatize her. I have a deep exfoliation treatment set up for us tomorrow morning at 5:30 and then one of those new massages where the Ibben masseuse beats you half to death and you feel marvelous after. Then we’re going to the ring maker’s to design an APPROPRIATE engagement ring”—she’d totally dug the soda tab thing, who was she kidding—“and I have an appointment in the afternoon at the boutique where Argella Durrandon got her wedding dress. So there’s no time to pick her up from your apartment anyway,” Cersei waved a hand. Brienne looked forlorn and Robert wasn’t sure she wasn’t going to be traumatized anyway.

“Cool,” he said agreeably. He gave Jaime a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Shall we head out Lannister? I mean, future brother in law?”

Jaime’s expression could have curdled milk and Robert gave his own forlorn glance at Brienne. She was so quiet! He probably would have forgotten she was even there after a couple days!

“I assume your eye sore of a car is parked around here somewhere?” Jaime drawled.

Robert wondered if this was one of those problems that couldn’t better be solved with violence. And then he remembered Cersei threatening to call the wedding off.

“I suppose my car is a little loud,” Robert ground out. “It’s in the back.”

Jaime’s completely unimpressed expression didn’t even falter when Robert pushed the penthouse button on the apartment building elevator, or when the doors opened literally in the apartment to a breathtaking vista of Oldtown harbor.

“Don’t you have rooms?” Jaime sneered, taking in the open space floor plan that some designer Cersei had delivered on his doorstep had created.

“Cersei likes it this way,” Robert said, a trifle smugly.

“Probably so you don’t have anywhere to hide your side pieces,” Jaime sniped back.

Gods it was going to be a long two months.

Robert hit a button and part of the wall folded down into a guest bed.

“Good luck child proofing that,” Jaime snorted.

“This is where Renly and Stannis sleep when they visit,” Robert said, trying to envision a calm tranquil pool. The team’s sports psychiatrist had told him to do this when a referee made a bad call. In the perfect stillness of the pool nothing mattered. 

“Robert?” Jaime snapped his fingers inches from his eyes. “Are you still there? Fricking space cadet, and this is who she wants to marry?!”

Robert’s hand shot out, grabbing Jaime’s shoulder in a crushing grip, fingers digging under his collar bone.

“Oh physical violence too? Yeah that’s a positive attribute in a life partner,” Jaime appeared in acute discomfort but snarked back, determined not to yield. “You’re not good enough to marry my sister, you’ll never be good enough to marry my sister, and this wedding will happen over my dead body.’

Fuck the pool.

“We are getting married,” Robert said as calmly as he could under the circumstances. “And there’s not a fucking thing you can do about it. And if you try, well,” he squeezed just a little harder, “I know where you sleep.”

“Like I’m scared of you?” Jaime arched an eyebrow. “Maybe that speech would have been more impressive coming from my father.”

Instead of the pool he saw Cersei’s face, threatening to call off the wedding.

Robert let go of Jaime, brushing the wrinkles out of his shirt. Jaime glared at him, rolling his shoulder, which made an audible popping sound. Probably fine. Joints did that sometimes.

“You’re right of course,” Robert shrugged. “It’s just, like, you wouldn’t be the first person to underestimate me. And somehow I usually win. Maybe I just get lucky?”

From Jaime’s visible flinch, that shot at least found its mark.

Chapter 6 – Jaime

Jaime groaned and turned, trying to bury his head deeper under the pillow as Robert’s snoring from across the apartment grew even louder. How did Cersei handle it?! He hoped someday the biscuit would appreciate the lengths to which Uncle Jaime had gone to rescue him/her from the clutches of this ape. Cersei would probably not appreciate it, which was why Operation Derail Wedding had to remain a secret. But the poor darling was just overwhelmed and dealing with pregnancy hormones and the stress of an overbearing father and if she wasn’t going to voluntarily run away to Essos to raise the biscuit with him and Brienne, he would simply have to break up the wedding himself. It was partly for that reason that he had agreed to move to Oldtown for the next two months. Although he had ostensibly started at Lannister Corp after graduation, he considered his hours to be rather... fluid. And his father would hardly object to him supporting the family. Family, after all, came first. The second reason was that Brienne had agreed to move to Oldtown for the next two months, and it was painfully clear that if he didn’t jump in as a human buffer from his sister, her entire summer would devolve into an indentured servitude to the eldritch horror that was the Lannister-Baratheon nuptials. And the fact was that even though they were far too young to be thinking about such matters, Jaime kind of sort of already knew that Brienne was his forever person. So to have her exposed to his entire extended family, very obviously in the context and framing of a wedding—well, he had to do everything in his power to stop her from running away screaming. So the prime directive was to save Brienne from Cersei. The secondary directive was to save Cersei from Cersei. Jaime finally began to drift off to sleep, comforted in the knowledge that if nothing else, nobody knew his enemy better than Jaime. He’d been with her literally since birth. If there was anyone who could subtly undermine the notion that she should marry this loser because she had internalized her need for her father’s approval as a burning desire to run Lannister Corp, it was him. Plus how hard could it be? All he had to do was point out Robert’s many many failings as both a potential father/life partner and functional human being, but in a way that it didn’t seem like he was the one doing it. (Partly because Cersei definitely followed the ethos of shooting the messenger and partly because Robert actually was kind of scary when he was mad. Not in a Tywin Lannister I’ll kill you and bury the body way, but more in a I’ll get really mad and kill you on accident kind of way.) So it was with drowsy dreams of living in a seaside cottage with Brienne and a very single Cersei living next door with her biscuit that Jaime fell asleep. Only for Robert’s alarm to go off at five. And again at 5:15. And again at 5:30. “ROBERT!” Jaime finally yelled. “Get the fuck out of bed before I shove that alarm clock up your ass!” Not that Robert awake was any better. That sound was Robert running a blender to make his morning smoothie. That sound was Robert starting the dishwasher. That sound was Robert gargling. For the stranger’s sake, he even walked loudly! When he finally, thankfully left the apartment at seven, Jaime dared to let out a sigh of pure relief and put his pillow beneath his head instead of above it. First thing today he was investing in some ear plugs. He took some small consolation in the knowledge that even if Robert and Cersei did get married, she would undoubtedly murder him within a week of moving in. But then biscuit’s mother would be in prison! No the wedding really had to be stopped. At eight the phone rang. That was when Jaime discovered the first thing he was doing today was actually painting a nursery. “Pink?” Jaime said doubtfully, looking at the cans that Cersei was shoving at him. “I thought you wouldn’t know what gender...” “Biscuit will be a girl of course,” Cersei sniffed. “I’m sure of it. A beautiful little girl who looks exactly like me. And it’s not pink, it’s blush.” Jaime shot a look at Brienne who was shaking her head. Poor Brienne was already showing signs of the deep fatigue that no doubt lined his face as well. “I’m think of naming her Genna,” Cersei said. “After Aunt Genna? Why?!” Jaime blurted. Because Aunt Genna was almost as scary as their father. “She’s the swing vote on the Lannister Corp board of course. Uncle Kevan always votes with father and Uncle Gerion and Uncle Tygett always vote against.” “You’d name your daughter—I mean your child—after Genna to get a vote at corporate board meetings?!” Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Really Jaime, I don’t have time to explain it all to you,” Cersei frowned. “Brienne and I need to go look at engagement rings and you have to be here for when the crib gets delivered.” “Why?” Jaime asked suspiciously. “It’s a doorman apartment.” “So you can put it together of course.”

The crib had dozens of interlacing parts that were supposed to form some kind of intricate Norvosi forest scene, and just trying to read the directions (which were naturally in Norvosi Valyrian) gave Jaime a splitting headache. 

The first time he was able to be alone with Brienne was when she managed to slip away after lunch. Jaime was spattered in pink—blush—paint, staring blankly at an assembled crib and several parts that were (hopefully) extras? Or maybe optional? He inspected a screw that might or might not be vitally important to the crib’s structural integrity. It was probably a spare. “Jaime,” Brienne said from the door softly and he grinned at her, and swept her into his arms and gave her one of those slow motion romantic kisses from the old movies that Brienne loved. “You’ll get paint on me,” Brienne finally laughed, pushing him away. Seeing her smile made him almost giddy with happiness, that she hadn’t cracked under the completely unnecessary stress Cersei was putting her through. “Be honest, how bad is it?” “It’s not... great,” Brienne admitted. “If I don’t get to eat meat in the next twenty-four hours I might die. Seaweed does not a meal make.” “My poor carnivorous wench,” Jaime murmured, nuzzling her neck. “I’ll take you to a diner. We’ll get burgers wrapped with bacon.” “Mmmm,” Brienne smiled against his temple. “But I only have two months to drop a size. Cersei and I are dieting together in solidarity.” Jaime rolled his eyes. “You can say no to her. I’m serious. And I’ll do it for you if you want. I have a lifetime of practice. Just let me know.” “It’s fine,” Brienne protested weakly. “Only maybe... do you think you could talk to Cersei about letting me go to my real job with Archmaester Marwyn at some point?” “You want me to talk to Cersei about giving you more work?” Jaime raised his eyebrows. “Well it really is such a unique opportunity, and if he’s going to slap my name on some article I was hoping to at least assist him with some research or even get his coffee or something,” Brienne bit her lip. “You’re inscrutable,” Jaime kissed her lightly. That was his lip to bite. “I’ll talk to her.” “She wants to spend her afternoons in some dusty library?” Cersei wrinkled her nose when Jaime finally managed to corner her as she stalked the aisles of a boutique dress store. “These are all too hideous. I really think I’m going to have to hire a designer and start from scratch.” “Yes, and since you made her last job disappear, you are going to let her,” Jaime said firmly. “I suppose she can work from two to five,” Cersei allowed grudgingly, “and we can do the real wedding planning in the morning.” “Thank you,” Jaime squeezed her hand. “I saw Varys’ article made front page of the Daily Raven.”

Cersei’s lips curved into a smirk.

“It was brilliant wasn’t it? And such a good photo of Robert. And did you catch the reference to our wedding? I’ve already had a call from Agora about covering the wedding—no Vogue yet, but it’ll come.”

Jaime had personally thought that Robert looked exactly the same as he usually did. Sort of good-naturedly vacant. Beric Dondarrion, nearly swamped in the photo by Robert’s larger frame, was looking at him with an admiring expression that bordered on pathetic. Jaime wondered how they had managed to produce that effect, since when last seen, Beric had been close to giving both Robert and Cersei a stern talking to, which was about as mad as Beric could get.

Regardless, he knew he had to get Cersei focused on the actual concept of marriage (which he knew she’d always been more or less bored by) and not on the social coup that would be a feature in Vogue.

“So when will you actually move in with Robert,” Jaime asked.

“When will Robert move in with me, you mean. Can you imagine child-proofing that apartment?!” Cersei laughed lightly.

“Have you ever actually lived with him for an extended period of time?” Jaime prodded.

“We’ve gone on trips together,” Cersei shrugged.

“A little loud isn’t he?”

“You mean the snoring?” Cersei smiled. “Doesn’t he sound like an adorable snuffly bear?”

“I would not have described him as an adorable snuffly bear, no,” Jaime said stiffly.

“Oh really Jaime, it’s nothing a pair of ear plugs won’t fix,” Cersei waved a hand. 

“And will he be helping with the nursery?” Jaime huffed.

“He bought the crib,” Cersei beamed. “Not quite my taste, but I thought it was a sweet gesture.”

Jaime shoved his hands into his pockets where they were promptly scratched by severally hopefully spare parts.

“Very sweet,” Jaime ground out. Robert Baratheon may have won this round, but he was only just getting started. Clearly reinforcements were needed.

“No,” Brienne sighed, possibly in dismay, possibly in pleasure, as Jaime kissed her shoulder from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I will not help you break up this wedding,” Brienne managed, despite Jaime nuzzling her with his stubble in a way that he knew secretly drove her crazy.

“Please wench? What if I put on a suit and asked?” Brienne had been known to gush over Jaime in a suit.

“Mmmm... I mean no! Jaime, I realize this isn’t a traditional wedding, but they both seem very happy and I think you’re letting your jealousy—“

“Jealousy?!” Jaime sputtered. “I’m not jealous of that buffoon! What could I possibly be jealous of? Being one concussion short of brain dead? His alcoholism? His anger management issues?”

“That he has a career in football like you could have if you hadn’t shattered your hand,” Brienne turned to face him, her enormous blue eyes warm with empathy. “That you saved the entire city of King’s Landing and somehow he walked away with all the credit. But those aren’t really his fault, and he has always been nice to you and he’s always been nice to me and…”

Jaime ground his teeth.

“I have known him my entire life and I have never liked him and it has nothing to do with those things! And you expect me to watch my sister throw her life away because he’s NICE?!”

Brienne looked unimpressed. His wench had clearly been brainwashed. Sleep deprivation, a restricted diet, beatings at the hands of Ibbenese masseuses...

“I’m sorry,” Jaime leaned forward and kissed her. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now. I’m just being silly. I promise not to put on a suit and ask you to help me derail this wedding.”

“Thank you Jaime,” Brienne smiled, and watching how her face brightened sent a warm rush of endorphins through him.

“I’m so glad you’ve decided to give up this nonsensical idea,” she said as she melted against him. He stroked her hair.

Oh sweet naive Brienne. He wasn’t giving up shit. He could find somebody else to help him. Not Tyrion, who had always found Robert hilarious. Ugh, siblings. No he needed someone else who appreciated the gravity of the situation. Wait a minute... Very serious siblings...

“I’m sure you can appreciate the gravity of the situation,” Jaime said smoothly, cradling the phone in one hand as he hid from Brienne behind a couch.

“It’s going to be a train wreck,” Stannis said flatly.

“They’re completely unsuitable.”

“Indeed.”

“And you hate to see somebody with so much potential shackle their lives to somebody who will just drag them down!”

“I know! Are we even sure she’s actually pregnant?! This is exactly the psycho next level shit that she pulls all the time!”

Jaime blinked.

“Wait, you think Cersei is the shackle that’s going to drag ROBERT down?” He said.

“Well yeah, she’s a vindictive, manipulative, completely crazy control freak and she’s been obsessed with him since high school and...”

“My sister is a SAINT and he’s an obnoxious boor who has broken her heart countless times...”

“A saint?! What about the time that she spread a rumor that Lysa Tully had an abortion?!”

“She fixed that...”

“Or got that girl Ros expelled by planting drugs in her locker...”

“That wasn’t proven...”

“Or set up a website dedicated to Euron Greyjoy’s autoerotic asphyxiation obsession?”

“He deserved that...”

“My point is that she’s evil!”

“And Robert is a fucking choirboy?!”

“It’s an impulse control problem, not a demented god complex!”

Jaime forced himself to take a deep breath because if he screamed at Stannis then Brienne would definitely hear him and he would be caught.

“We need not get into specifics,” he continued, trying to keep the edge out of his tone. “The point is that I think we can both agree that this wedding should be stopped.”

“Hmph.”

“And the two of us have a strong track record of teaming up to stop the forces of darkness.”

“Do we?”

“Duh! What about when we teamed up to stop Gregor Clegane?!”

“You ended up locked in a room somewhere. Also I think Beric technically died.”

“Well what about when we teamed up to stop Aerys Targaryen?!”

“You ended up locked in a room somewhere. Also I think I technically died.”

Jaime ground his teeth. Then inspiration struck.

“What about when we teamed up to rig the school elections?!”

“Beric and I ended up locked in a room somewhere. Also I think Beric almost died. Were you even there?!”

“I played a very important role!” Jaime huffed. “Look, we will avoid locked rooms and Beric Dondarrion, and we will rescue our siblings from this temporary bout of insanity by any means necessary.”

There was a long silence punctuated by Stannis muttering something about Tywin Lannister not being his father in law. 

“Fine,” Stannis said presently. “I accept.”

Chapter 7 – Thoros

Thoros did not consider himself a morning person. All the same, when the alarm went off at six in the morning, he turned it off before the second ring and was out of bed before Beric had even rolled over. He pulled on some clothes, cursing slightly when he managed to get his shirt on inside out and then deciding it didn’t matter and throwing a sweatshirt over it He stepped out into the small landing of the fourth floor walk up they rented in whatever Oldtown’s equivalent of Flea Bottom was. Even only paying half the rent, it was all he could afford on a bartender’s wages, and even though Beric and his parents would have been happy to foot the entire rent, Thoros was doggedly determined that they would do no such thing. And if Beric minded walking down four flights of stairs in the morning, waiting at an exceptionally sketchy bus stop and then taking two different buses across town to get to the Citadel because his boyfriend wasn’t good at accepting handouts, he had never betrayed any sign of it. Which was part of the reason Thoros was getting out of bed at this ungodly hour. He stopped at the newsstand that Beric walked by every day to get to the bus stop. Sure enough, on the front page of the Daily Raven, there were Robert and a frail looking Beric. Thoros rolled his eyes. “How many Daily Ravens do you have?” He asked the surly proprietor. The man was glaring at him like he could tell a petty thief when he saw one and Thoros better not try shit. Prejudiced jackass. “How many?” The proprietor sneered. “I dunno, two hundred at the start of the day, bit less now?” “Right,” Thoros sighed, fingering his not particularly fat wallet. “I’ll take them all.” Despite some aggressive haggling, the man refused to give him a discount for buying in bulk. Thoros retaliated by lifting several packets of gum on the way out. It turned out it was not especially easy to walk back to the apartment with a teetering pile of one hundred and eighty three newspapers. Thoros stopped at every garbage and recycling bin he could find (carefully ripping the first page of every copy just so nobody would fish it out of a dumpster and spoil the whole thing), and had winnowed it down to about twenty leftovers when he reached the apartment building. Fine. He would stuff the remainder into the crawl space in their apartment where Beric refused to go because there were spiders. He trudged up the four flights of stairs and had inserted his keys into the lock when he heard the unmistakeable sounds of Beric moving in the apartment. Fuck. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to!” Beric called cheerfully. “I’m making waffles!” Thoros looked around their spartan and sad little landing for a hiding space. He managed to fit exactly one newspaper under their doormat. Great, just nineteen more to go. “Thoros?” Beric called, and his voice was definitely coming closer. Hastily, Thoros shoved all of them into the back of his shirt, tucking it in so they wouldn’t promptly spill out. With the sweatshirt concealing most of it, he thought he stood up to inspection reasonably well. The door opened. “I thought I heard you,” Beric grinned, still looking a little tousled from sleep. He was wearing one of the matching sets of silk pajamas that his mother was always buying for him, and his eye patch was a little askew, and Thoros felt his normal surge of affectionate incredulity that somebody like this was living in a shithole with him. “Morning,” Thoros leaned up to give him a quick kiss, already edging toward the back hallway. “Where are you going so fast,” Beric’s fingers wrapped in his sweatshirt. “Bathroom,” Thoros disentangled with a gentle push. It was a moment’s work to hide the papers and he returned much relieved and ready to resume that conversation. Beric however had turned his attention to carefully pouring the batter into the waffle iron. Thoros, who did most of his cooking in industrial kitchens for an already drunk and indifferent audience, was often amused at the strange gadgets that Beric seemed intent on filling their apartment with. The waffle iron had earned its keep though. “When will they be ready?” Thoros wrapped his arms around Beric from behind, eyeing the batter with interest. “Patience is a virtue,” Beric said absent-mindedly, head bent to the task at hand. Thoros stealthily reached a hand out for the bowl of batter. Beric swatted it away without looking. “What’s the occasion?” Thoros asked nonchalantly, continuing his stretch just a little further to try and reach the whip cream can. “Us being awake at the same time,” Beric pushed the can further away. “Beric,” Thoros pouted. “Thoros,” Beric turned with a teasing smile. He placed a drop of batter on Thoros’ nose. Thoros scowled and wiped it off with a finger, sucking that finger sulkily. “It’s all ending up in my stomach anyway.” “It’s not always about the destination,” Beric smirked, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Thoros’. “Sometimes the... anticipation is half the fun.” “If we’re still talking about waffles, I’m going to be very disappointed,” Thoros arched an eyebrow. Beric stepped back with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I’m going down to check our mail. I’m expecting to find everything exactly as I left it,” Beric said over his shoulder. “If you can manage that, I think I can manage not to disappoint.” Thoros promptly removed himself from the kitchen area and settled himself into a couch. He was watching a sportscast with utter disinterest when Beric returned. To his surprise, all of the earlier energy seemed to have dissipated. Beric tossed the mail on their kitchen table and went into their bedroom without even glancing at the waffle iron. Thoros blinked. Then he looked at the kitchen table. There, with all the usual bills and junk mail, was a copy of the Daily Raven. Thoros cursed and grabbed the offending copy and dumped it into the garbage. He went back and poked his head out the front door, nudging the door mat with his foot. The copy he had stashed under there was gone. Fuck. Twenty minutes later, Thoros knocked on the door with his head, his hands being otherwise occupied cradling a plate with a waffle generously dowsed with syrup and whip cream, a mug of hot chocolate, and some cutlery. When there was no response one way or the other, Thoros pushed it open. Beric had gotten back into bed, buried deep under the covers. Thoros sighed and sat down on the bed, putting the plate down on the nightstand. He wafted the smell toward the lump under the covers. Beric’s face peeked out from under the comforter. “Take it—mine’s getting cold on the counter,” Thoros prodded. Beric pulled himself up and took the mug, cradling it in both hands. “Thank you,” he said quietly. Thoros went and got his, gave it a healthy kick of Baileys and then with a deep breath returned to the lion’s den. Beric could get a little self-conscious about his appearance, and on an already introverted person, extra social anxiety wasn’t... ideal? And it didn’t help that Thoros was acutely aware that if this situation were somehow reversed, Beric would be all understanding and sensitive and know exactly what to say. Beric was big on talking out problems. Thoros, not so much. So instead, he crawled into the bed next to Beric and snuggled against him, slurping loudly from his mug. Beric look at him with a spark of tired amusement. “So are you going to eat that waffle or admire my handiwork,” Thoros nudged him. “Not hungry.” “What if I cut it up into little bites and made airplane noises?” “Please don’t.” Thoros ignored him and cut a piece. “Air traffic control to Beric, air traffic control to Beric, do you copy?” Beric sighed and took the fork from him and obediently took the bite. Thoros pulled the plate over and balanced it in his lap. For a while they alternated taking bites of the waffle, eating in companionable silence. “I just don’t get how the newspaper even ended up under our mat,” Beric said abruptly and a little sulkily. “We barely even know our neighbors.” “Er right,” Thoros scratched his head sheepishly. “I might have hid it there.” “You bought up a copy?” Beric groaned. “Why, to torment me?” “Um I might have bought a lot of copies? To keep you from seeing them because I knew you would be upset?” Beric stared at him. Thoros took a defensive sip of hot chocolate. “How many copies?” Beric asked finally. “A hundred and eighty three?” Thoros winced. There was a pause and then Beric gave a snort of laughter. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard! You know the moment I got to class somebody would have said something right?” “Well saying something is different from seeing it!” Thoros protested. “Right, they would have said something and then I would have gone to the website...” Beric picked up his phone from where it was charging and typed in an address. The picture immediately popped up. “And we would be at the exact same place.” “Well I didn’t think that far ahead!” Thoros huffed. “I know,” Beric kissed him, tasting of maple syrup. “And you have terrible instincts.” “What?” Thoros finally registered what Beric was saying because he’d been distracted by the kiss. “I have great instincts!” “If our apartment caught on fire, you would freak out and pour gasoline on the flames,” Beric laughed. “I would not!” “It’s okay, I think it’s adorable.” “I’m not adorable,” Thoros protested. “Sweet then.” “I’m not sweet either!” “You just don’t want people knowing that you’re nice. That’s different.” “I stole two packets of gum today,” Thoros crossed his arms. “Not sweet.” Beric kissed him again. “Objectively false. Very sweet.” “That’s the maple syrup!” Beric smiled, and it seemed like they were in the clear. “That was a composite photo you know,” Beric said. “Hmmm?” “I wasn’t really looking at Robert when they took that, you had just come out from the back kitchen.” “Well I’m glad you weren’t looking at Robert,” Thoros joked to distract from his blush. “I’d have to beat him up.” Beric rolled his eye. “You don’t think I could?!” Thoros poked him playfully. “I don’t think you could and I don’t think you WOULD.” “What’s that supposed to mean?!” “That you can’t stay mad at Robert. It’s okay, it’s hard for me too. It’s like some kind of weird conversational jujitsu he does.” “I can stay mad at Robert! In fact, I AM mad at Robert. He needs to get his woman under control! I don’t have the money to keep buying every issue of the Daily Raven!” Thoros downed his hot chocolate and set it down with an emphatic thump. “Sure,” Beric pushed him. “I’m serious. I am marching over there as soon as he gets back from practice and giving him a piece of my mind!” “If you say so,” Beric shrugged. “But that’s not for another six hours.” “Whatever shall we do in the meantime?” Thoros drawled. Six hours later, Thoros was chewing some gum and reading one of his many editions of the Daily Raven in the third row of the Oldtown Maesters Stadium. “What up?” A very sweaty Robert vaulted the wall and landed in front of him. “You’re an asshole!” Thoros snapped, shoving the paper in his face. “How could you let them embarrass Beric like this?!” “Woah! What the fuck is that picture? We never posed for that! Ha Beric looks like such a dork!” Robert pulled the paper from him and studied it. Thoros paused, his head of steam a little stymied. “How did you not know this was going to happen?” He scowled, shoving Robert. Robert shoved him back and he tripped backwards over the stadium seating, landing hard on his back. “I swear I didn’t, dude. Cersei doesn’t run this shit by me,” Robert lifted him to his feet. “Well she’s put him in a shitty situation! You know how much he hates to be the center of attention, and how much he REALLY hates people talking about his scars. He totally skipped class today and you’re a bad friend for letting your baby mama walk all over him!” “Okay first, he’s an adult who is just as capable or incapable of standing up to Cersei as I am, and second, she is the mother of my child! This shit is so delicate, you have no idea. She could get cold feet at any moment, I swear Jaime is plotting against me, Stannis just sent me a fucking Venmo request for his gas bill to Oldtown and I need to submit my picks for the bands to Cersei by Friday.” Thoros opened his mouth and then shut it. “Thoros! I’m stress eating! I think I’m going to get fat!” “You work out too much to get fat,” Thoros offered. “You’re supposed to say, don’t be ridiculous, Robert, it’s all going to be fine.” “No these all sound like real problems. Except that Stannis thing. Just pay him.” “It means he’s mad at me! If I pay him, we don’t resolve our issues!” “Your issues are incapable of resolution. Just learn to treat them as a charming facet of your relationship with him.” “Fuck,” Robert groaned, collapsing into one of the seats and burying his head in his hands. “Why does everything have to be so hard?” “I’m sorry buddy,” Thoros leaned over and pat him on the back. “Is there anything I can do to help?” “Could you pick up Ned from the airport?” Robert looked up hopefully. “Sure?” Thoros frowned. “When?” “Friday. It’s the soonest he could come.” “Why does he need to be here?” “Evil forces are on the move,” Robert tapped his nose. “We must gather our strength.” “For the night is dark and full of terrors,” Thoros rolled his eyes. There was no reasoning with him once Robert had gone into conspiracy mode. “Alright, text me the details.” It wasn’t until he got home that he realized Beric might have a point. “How’d it go?” Beric looked up from a legal textbook. Poor boy didn’t know the first thing about cutting class. “What go?” Thoros yawned, checking his watch. Only an hour before his shift. “Telling Robert off?” “Huh,” Thoros opened his mouth and then shut it. “Really great. He was very sorry. There was some groveling. He’ll never do it again.” “You’re a terrible liar,” Beric told him. “I’m an excellent liar,” Thoros snorted, poking through his dirty laundry to try and find a work shirt. “I just don’t like lying to you.” “Then what really happened?” Beric laughed. “I don’t know exactly,” Thoros scratched his head. “I went over there to yell at him and then all of a sudden I was promising to pick Ned up from the airport.” “Conversational jujitsu,” Beric nodded wisely. “Since when could he do that?!” “He could always do that. Your problem is just you usually don’t need any convincing,” Beric sighed. “Why is Ned coming anyway?! Doesn’t he have a child to take care of?!” Thoros shrugged. “Dunno. Robert just said that the forces of evil were on the move.”

Chapter 8 – Melisandre

Melisandre’s face brightened when her phone buzzed with Brienne’s name. She started to reach for it only to be cut off by the disapproving cough of her lab supervisor.

She gave a haughty sniff. As if she cared one whit for lab supervisors and their petty concerns.

“Hi Brienne,” Melisandre said in a hushed voice from the women’s restroom, her voice dropped into a whisper so that nobody would hear her. Petty concerns or not, she really needed this job on her resume to apply for medical school. The good news was that there were only a handful of female researchers, so the odds of being interrupted were low.

“Hi Melisandre,” Brienne said warmly. “It’s been too long.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been meaning to call you! I assume we both know why we’re having this conversation.”

“Oh did Thoros say something?”

“No why would he? I just figured it out. I can’t believe this is happening, it’s such a nightmare!”

“Oh,” Brienne cleared her throat uncomfortably. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have asked, it’s such an imposition. You don’t need to help—“

“Of course I need to help! I can’t leave you to deal with this on your own! We both remember the last time, they’ll get themselves killed!”

“Errr, last time? What are talking about?”

“That our nincompoop boyfriends think they’re going to stop this wedding?” Melisandre prodded impatiently. She’d seen that dreadful Yes! Weekly cover, and had picked up a phone to call Thoros to warn him that he should probably burn down the newsstand by his apartment before Beric saw it, only to hear Stannis talking to Jaime Lannister of all people. 

“Wait, THEY WHAT?!” Brienne snapped. “Jaime specifically told me he was past this!”

“Wait, what were you talking about?”

“Oh, um, Cersei really really needs a fourth bridesmaid and she asked me to find someone.”

“WHAT?!”

“I mean your thing is objectively worse—“

“No it’s not! Brienne, you know how I feel about the wedding industry! It’s a gross capitalist swindle that corrupts both the sanctity of religion and the purity of love!”

“I’m not sure the sanctity of religion or the purity of love will be big selling points at this wedding,” Brienne coughed.

“Well I can’t! As a follower of R’hllor, I am forbidden from participating in other religious ceremonies!”

“Are you just doing that thing you do where you make up facts about your religion because nobody knows enough to correct you?”

“...NO!”

“Well okay, because Thoros is going to be a groomsman—“

“He’s a heretic! I refuse!”

“I really wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency, but I’m desperate! I called every girl in Cersei’s sorority! Do you know how many people hung up on me? And those were the good ones! I got a ‘May that witch burn in hell’, somebody who just sobbed on the line for twenty minutes, another girl who asked me to tell Cersei she still loves her and would do anything for her...”

Melisandre groaned.

“And if Jaime and Stannis really are teaming up to stop this wedding, we need to have an excuse for us to be hanging out as well! Otherwise I don’t even want to know what Tywin will do when he catches up to them!”

Melisandre groaned again.

“Please Melisandre? I know you hate all this crap, but I’m at the end of my rope and I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“Catelyn Tully.”

“Already a bridesmaid. And so is Lysa.”

“Ellaria Sand.”

“She said she would consider it if I flew down to Dorne and... persuaded her.”

Melisandre had to snort at that, imagining Brienne’s blush on the other side of the phone. Honestly, she was as bad as Beric.

“I’ll think about it,” Melisandre sighed.

“Could you think about it really fast?” Brienne said nervously. Melisandre’s phone buzzed with another text.

“Why?” Melisandre said suspiciously.

“Um because I might have already told Cersei you would do it and we’re going to be in King’s Landing this evening for a dress fitting?”

“What?!” Melisandre’s voice dipped into permafrost territory.

“Surprise?” Brienne squeaked.

“There’d better be champagne,” Melisandre growled. 

She hung up. The buzz had been an invitation from Cersei to her wedding calendar. With a feeling of doom, Melisandre clicked accept.

There was not champagne. It was sparkling apple cider, which was not the same thing at all, but Cersei had given a delicate bell-like laugh and said she didn’t want to tempt herself with the biscuit around and it really tasted about the same. It did not.

“I didn’t even realize bridal boutiques stayed open this late,” Melisandre confided to Brienne.

“They don’t. They made an exception for Cersei because she’s custom designing her gown with them.”

“Shouldn’t Catelyn and Lysa be here?” Melisandre looked around, trying not to gag at all of the frills and tulle.

“Catelyn said that Robb has whooping cough and her family is coming to visit any day now and there’s no way she can fly down to King’s Landing just to try on a dress. And Cersei told me not to bother inviting Lysa because she’ll do as she’s told and like it.”

Melisandre eyed the dresses dubiously. 

“It’s all set,” Cersei said briskly. “I’ve instructed them to bring out every shade of pink they have.”

Melisandre stared at her.

“Er pink, Cersei?” Brienne asked hesitantly. “Three of your four bridesmaids are redheads and two of Robert’s groomsmen... you don’t think—“

“Oh it’ll clash hideously,” Cersei agreed blithely. “Which is perfect, I really want to accentuate the difference in attractiveness between everyone else and me. I’m thinking pink flowers as well, just to make sure you all blend into the background in photos. Don’t look so glum! At least it’ll bring out the roses in your cheeks. Yours too Melisandre. You both have skin that’s so...”

“Alabaster?” Melisandre offered with a shade of snark.

“Corpse-like,” Cersei continued. “Excuse me miss? I’ve narrowed it down to these seven shades.”

“But,” Brienne shot a nervous look at Melisandre. Melisandre only shrugged indifferently. She had spent a lifetime wearing various shades of red and was used to things clashing with her hair. Plus she refused to involve herself in this enterprise more than she absolutely had to. But if Cersei thought she was wearing anything with frills, she had another thing coming. Difference in attractiveness? Melisandre was fairly deft with a needle. They would see who would be blending into the background.

“Of course you’ll have to wear flats. Melisandre stand up for a second?”

Melisandre stood.

“I’m wearing three inch, so nothing higher than one inch for you, dear.”

She made a mental note to wear the tallest heels she could find.

“Excuse me, Susayn, was it? I’m think a mermaid dress with lots of frills. Oh and plenty of tulle at the bottom. What do you have like that?”

Melisandre shot a look at Brienne, who had the decency to blush.

The situation did not approve once the dresses arrived. Cersei insisted Melisandre try on them all, claiming that Brienne’s figure was much too unique for her to visualize what the others would look like wearing off the rack. 

Melisandre stood, chin lifted haughtily, in one monstrous pink confection after another, as Cersei prowled around her, determined to find ways to make the dress ever more awful.

It was nearly ten o’clock at night before they were done, and both Melisandre and Brienne’s stomachs were growling loudly.

“Time for a slice before you head back to Oldtown?” Melisandre asked Brienne, pointedly ignoring Cersei.

“Pizza? Heavens, you must work out a lot,” Cersei smiled, putting her hand on Brienne’s arm. “Better to skip dinner tonight I think, there’s so much sugar in apple cider as it is.”

Brienne looked like a childhood friend had died.

“Well if you change your mind about anything,” Melisandre arched an eyebrow to encompass every terrible life decision that had led Brienne to this point, “do let me know.”

Brienne swallowed. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine,” she said weakly.

“See, she’s fine,” Cersei cooed. Melisandre considered whether Stannis and Jaime weren’t on to something.

“You were out late,” Stannis eyed her as she let herself into their flat. It was just where Stormlands gave way to downtown King’s Landing, which let Stannis drop in on Renly when his parents had been away for exceptionally long periods. The style was sleek modern, all clean lines and impeccably clean. It was all very Stannis, except for the artwork which was all very her. Poor dear didn’t really understand that you couldn’t have too much red.

“It was ghastly,” Melisandre said tiredly, balancing a large pizza box, of which she’d already managed to devour half. “What’s up with you?”

“Robert hasn’t responded to my Venmo request,” Stannis huffed, helping her with her jacket and then taking the box from her so she could collapse dramatically across the sofa. She did, and then watched fondly as he carefully put the pizza down and then hung her jacket on their rack just so. She reminded herself that she really should be annoyed with him—after the whole Robert’s Rebellion debacle, he had PROMISED her no more secrets—but it was hard to be annoyed as he rehung the jacket when it didn’t fall exactly right.

“Oh leave it,” Melisandre as he prepared to give it a third go. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s not,” Stannis scowled at the jacket.

“You’re perfect then,” Melisandre stretched out on the couch. “Speaking of Robert, anything you want to tell me?”

“I know you said not to send the Venmo request, but it’s the principle of the thing! He can’t just expect that I’ll drop everything and run to help him clean up his messes! I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, I can’t just fuck off to bail my brother out of whatever disaster he’s created! And now I’ve got Cersei breathing down my neck to sign off on this trust agreement for that stupid charity she’s creating, and I need a speech for the shareholder’s presentation on Friday and I’m not remotely close to prepared, and...”

Melisandre stuck a piece of pizza in his mouth. Stannis glared at her as he chewed mechanically and then gulped.

“Anything else,” she toyed with the collar of his dress shirt, unbuttoning the top button. 

“That seems like a lot,” he said doubtfully, distracted by her hands which were continue to unbutton.

“I just thought,” Melisandre breathed against his ear, her lips brushing the shell. Stannis shivered and she pressed a kiss against his neck. “That there might be...” she began to unbuckle his belt, “... something new.”

“Nothing new,” Stannis managed, his hands falling to her hips. She pushed him off playfully, even as she slipped the belt out of his pants and tossed it on the couch.

“You’re sure?” She asked coyly, sliding the pants off him. They hit the ground in a puddle. Stannis was staring at her hungrily.

“Well?” She pushed him lightly back into an arm chair and then stood over him, starting to take off her own top.

“Well what?” Stannis asked, voice dazed. She dropped the top, leaned forward. Automatically he reached to unclasp her bra and again she pushed him off.

“Nothing you want to tell me?” She purred.

“Nothing,” Stannis rasped.

Melisandre blinked. She pushed herself back upright and retrieved her top. 

“Mel?” Stannis looked bewildered. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to watch television and then I’m going to bed,” Melisandre said. 

“Um, did I do something?”

“Apparently nothing at all,” Melisandre snarked.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Don’t be silly. How could I be mad at you when you’ve done nothing?” She grabbed the pizza box.

“Wait!” Stannis called, as she opened the door of their bedroom. She smiled, but carefully wiped the expression back to neutral before she turned to him.

“Can I have another slice of pizza?”

The entire apartment reverberated with the force of the door slam.

Chapter 9 – Ned

It had been a long night, punctuated by Robb’s hacking cough, and when his one year old son woke up at day break, Ned had the peculiar sensation that he had never actually fallen asleep. He was across the room to the crib before Catelyn had fully woken, lifting Robb into his arms. 

“There there little man,” Ned whispered, and Rob gurgled at him, the soft morning light catching the blue of Robb’s eyes. Catelyn’s eyes, and Ned had to give him a quick kiss on the forehead because it was constantly hitting him all over again, how much he loved his son.

Robb was one now, had followed almost nine months to the day after his and Catelyn’s marriage. And every day he became a little more of a person, a little closer to walking and talking, a little closer to growing up. Ned kissed him again, and then wandered into the kitchen with him to heat up some formula. Catelyn had planned to breast feed until about eighteen months, but was not so secretly hoping that Robb would lose interest sooner. To that end, they were mixing in formula, especially in the morning and at night, and Catelyn deserved to savor her sleep a little longer.

Ned glanced briefly at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and winced. His brownish-red hair was rumpled and he badly needed a shave. There were dark circles under his eyes like bruises. Abruptly, he turned to go back to the kitchenette and managed to bonk Robb’s head on the door. Robb immediately started to wail.

“I’m sorry!” Ned rubbed his head. “Daddy didn’t mean it, Daddy’s sorry.” Inwardly he cursed this awful graduate student housing for making such tiny spaces and having no conception of what family living entailed. Both he and Cat were graduate students at Winterfell—Cat in Medieval Literature and Ned in Westerosi History—and trying to study and grade papers and write their theses and raise a child in an oversized closet was driving them both slightly mad.

If that didn’t make things worse, Catelyn’s entire family was coming this weekend as a prelude to the annual two-week Tully family summer holiday. He didn’t know where they were all going to fit. He tested the temperature of the formula and then put it into the sippy cup for Robb. Robb stopped crying and began working at it with greedy sips.

Honestly, Robert’s invitation/command/desperate cry for help couldn’t have come at a better time. If they blew up an air mattress in the nursery, Catelyn and Lysa could sleep there. Edmure could sleep on the couch. Hoster could sleep in the master bedroom. Plus that got him out of the dorm. It was no secret that Hoster was deeply disappointed in Cat’s marriage. He had always liked Ned’s brother Brandon better, and had been convinced that their relationship was just puppy love that would run its course. When it hadn’t—when Ned had proposed their senior year, and Cat, crying and laughing through her tears had said yes—Hoster Tully had been furious. Ned didn’t have the ambition of his older brother, the earning potential, the connections. If Cat married him, she would just be some professor’s wife. Cat knew that of course. She just didn’t care.

Ned knew that Cat felt the estrangement with her family keenly. This visit, ostensibly to see little Robb and for Catelyn and Robb to join them on the Tully family vacation, was their chance at reconciliation, a chance at putting the past behind them. Ned knew that Cat hoped her father would thaw in Robb’s presence, would be so pleased with his grandson that he might unbend over her less than strategic marriage. Ned also knew that his presence was a hindrance in that effort.

Robb was already asleep again in his arms when Ned made his way back to the master bedroom and put him in his daybed. He climbed back into bed, pausing to brush the hair out of his sleeping wife’s face. Softly illuminated in the morning light, Catelyn Tully was as beautiful as the day he’d married her.

“Mmm,” she shifted in the bed, rolling toward him. “Is it time to get up already?”

“I think we have a minute or two longer,” Ned whispered, his voice rough with sleep still.

When he had tentatively brought up Robert’s request that he visit as soon as possible, Catelyn had been more than supportive. She would never deliberately hide him from her father, but if he happened to be gone while Hoster happened to be there... Ned wasn’t sure who would be more relieved, himself, Cat or Hoster.

Not to mention, he had been feeling rather guilty that he wasn’t there to celebrate with Robert. He could still remember Robert’s delight when they had told him about Robb—he’d been playing for Sunspear then and had driven all the way up to take Ned and Cat out to celebrate at Moondoor, driving through the night to surprise them in the Vale the very next day. Now it had been ten days, ten days since his best friend had found out he was going to be a father AND gotten engaged—and Ned was still watching his wife sleep and wondering if he shouldn’t just stay here and squeeze in three last days with his family, Hoster be damned.

As if sensing his thoughts, little Robb started to cry again, this time punctuated by the cough that Ned had grown to dread.

“Well it was nice while it lasted,” Cat yawned, and rolled out of bed to collect him.

“Mmm,” Ned said noncommittally.

“What are you thinking about so hard this early in the morning,” Cat teased as she brought Robb back to their bed and cuddled against Ned’s shoulder.

“Robert’s wedding. And flying to Oldtown, I guess,” Ned admitted. “Are you sure you won’t need me here?”

Catelyn rolled her eyes.

“You know Lysa is obsessed with babies. She’ll take care of Robb the entire time, I’ll be lucky if I even get to see him. And with Daddy and Edmure... I’m not so sure your presence will be much of a help,” she smiled wanly.

“I never meant to take you from your family,” Ned frowned, taking her hand.

“You haven’t,” Catelyn squeezed back. “As you can see, they are very much still in the picture. I haven’t regretted our marriage for a moment, and Daddy can accept that fact or not. I just hate how much stress it’s put on you, when you’ve done nothing but love me. Knowing that you’re off in Oldtown goofing around with Robert instead of listening to my father’s snide comments about you and Brandon makes me happy. Promise me you’ll have fun Ned? I want to think about you having fun while I’m on this horrendous family vacation.”

“I’ll try,” Ned said doubtfully. It would be his first nights apart from Cat and Robb since Robb had been born.

Catelyn put a hand on her hip.

“Do better than try,” she scolded. “Don’t make me take Cersei up on her offer to relocate all of us to the Citadel.”

Ned winced at the mention of Robert’s on and off again girlfriend turned baby mama turned fiancée.

“I promise,” he sighed, a doleful sound completely at odds with the sentiment expressed.

“Such enthusiasm,” Catelyn had to laugh. “Well who knows, maybe some fun will sneak up on you.”

And for an afternoon it seemed like Catelyn Tully Stark had been right. He got off the plane to a markedly warmer climate, a sunny afternoon and a high school friend leaning against a beat up sedan.

“Did Robert make you pick me up?” Ned groaned.  “I’m so sorry, I could have totally gotten a taxi.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t send flowers and a mariachi band,” Thoros Asshai laughed.

Ned had only gotten to know him senior year of high school through Robert (he had an anti-authoritarian streak that made Ned a little nervous sometimes and meant the two of them would have been unlikely to really bond one on one) but he was easy going and good natured, and after working for two years with exclusively high strung academic types, it was nice to talk sports and commiserate about Cersei’s crazy plans to get publicity for the wedding and hear about Robert’s latest misadventures.

By the time Thoros dropped Ned off at Robert’s apartment, with the assurance that Robert should be home from practice within an hour or two, Ned was feeling almost relaxed. He had time to get unpacked, take a shower, call Cat... the elevator whooshed open and there was Jaime Lannister, looking up in surprise.

Ned froze. Jaime’s surprise melted from bewilderment to scorn with a heaping side of malice in the shade of an instant.

“I should have known you would eventually turn up. I don’t suppose you’re here to confess your undying love for Robert and beg him to call off the wedding?” Jaime arched an eyebrow. Ned was at a loss for words, but a response did not really seem to be required.

“Pity, that would have made my life easier. Well Robert’s bed is over there. I assume you’d prefer sleeping with him over a murderer,” Jaime said lightly, before walking past, his shoulder hitting Ned’s in the process. Then the elevator doors whooshed closed again, and Ned dropped his bags really wishing he’d stayed up north with Cat.

The worst part about it was that Ned had nobody to blame but himself. He and Jaime Lannister had never gotten along particularly well—he found Jaime to be rude and sarcastic, and he suspected that Jaime found him annoying and dull. But they had more or less co-existed without incident until the end of senior year, when the mayor had gone mad and tried to burn the city down.

Ned had helped though! He and Robert had corralled the police and gotten them to the mayor’s house where he had taken Jaime hostage. And when they finally broke the door down, Ned had only said the first thing that popped into his head—“you shot him in the back”—okay was it kind or tactful, no, but it was a factually accurate description of the scene, he was a high schooler looking at a dead body, what exactly was the right thing to say?! And then the police body cam video had leaked and Ned’s accusation had become immortalized as incontrovertible fact and Jaime had never forgiven him.

Ned groaned and slumped on Robert’s bed. And now Jaime Lannister was going to be Robert’s brother-in-law. They were literally sleeping under the same roof! Jaime hated him and Ned was a terrible person and Robert was going to be so disappointed that they couldn’t get along and absolutely everything was a complete disaster.

“Everything is going exactly according to plan!” Robert beamed in the car on the way to dinner.

“Wait what?” Ned blinked. “Jaime looked like he was about to murder me! I mean, not that I actually think he does that, of course, except for that one time and I’m sure it was self-defense but...” Ned realized he was babbling and shut his mouth. Fuck, see, this was why he shouldn’t be accountable for things he said when he was nervous! 

“I know!” Robert gave him a one armed hug and the car swerved. Ned shut his eyes as they narrowly missed oncoming traffic.

“Jaime’s trying to sabotage the wedding. Or he will. Or he might. He’s plotting something Ned, I know he is,” Robert told him.

“Robert, we’ve talked about you reading comic books before bed time,” Ned pinched the bridge of his nose. “And how the entire world doesn’t actually run on vast conspiracy theories?!“

“Except for that time that Rhaegar was murdered by his father and then it was covered up as a political assassination gone wrong? And that other time that Aerys tried to destroy the city with wildfire?” 

“Yes except for those two times which were actually one time because they were connected,” Ned sighed.

“And I totally called it and nobody believed me?!” 

“Actually you managed to convince like a weirdly high number of people. All things considering.”

“Whatever! The point is that this isn’t a conspiracy because Jaime told me to my face!” Robert huffed.

Ned massaged his temples.

“What did he say exactly?”

“You’re not good enough for my sister, you’ll never be good enough for my sister and this wedding is happening over my dead body.”

Okay, well that was a little difficult to misconstrue.

“And I can’t have anything go wrong! Cersei said if I did anything to fuck with her Vogue coverage she would call off the wedding!” Robert groaned as they sat down at the table for dinner and buried his head in his arms.

“Hey it’s going to be okay,” Ned frantically summoned the waiter. “Everything will look better once we’ve had a couple beers, you’ll see.”

“Maybe,” Ned said thoughtfully on his fourth beer and their third bar, “maybe he means he has a terminal health condition and won’t survive until the wedding.”

Robert groaned.

“If only. Appreciate the positive thinking Neddy. Also how long has it been since you were out drinking?”

Ned blinked at the beer in his hand.

“Umm definitely before Robb was born. And then we were so busy with classes... maybe the wedding?”

“Hmmm,” Robert yoinked the beer from him and drained it himself. “Maybe we should let me do the thinking.”

Ned blinked at his now empty hand.

“Okay,” he said amiably. “What do you want me to do?”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Robert grinned. “Almost nothing. I just want you to stick to Lannister like glue. It’s perfect! He hates your guts! He’ll be so freaked out that he won’t be able to focus at all!”

“I don’t want him to hate me,” Ned said plaintively. “I really think if we could spend some time together he would understand how sorry I am about what happened.”

“That’s the spirit!” Robert clapped him on the back.

It was that thought that kept Ned cheerful through his fifth and sixth beer and the taxi home. When the doors whooshed open at three in the morning and they staggered back into Robert’s apartment, Ned was even inspired to wander over to the guest bed.

“Jaime,” he whispered loudly. The lump under the covers twitched. Ned sat down heavily on the bed next to him and prodded him a couple times.

“Jaime, I want you to know—“ he hiccuped, “how awful I feel about what I said that day with Aerys—“ this one was more of a burp, “I’ve never doubted that it was self defense, I’m sorry it seemed like I didn’t, I—“ woah like a really BIG burp, “I just think we should start over you know? Like a blank—“

His entire stomach rebelled and he threw up the contents of his dinner on to Jaime’s bed.

[itsartworkbylem-blog]

Japanese Film: Blog #5

Bushido: The Way of the Warrior

 “…Bushido involved not only martial spirit and skill with weapons, but also absolute loyalty to one’s lord, a strong sense of personal honor, devotion to duty, and the courage, if required, to sacrifice one’s life in battle or ritual.” (pg. 41)

 I chose this quote because it reminds me of the expectations of we have for soldiers in the U.S. In this country when you join the army you are now responsible for maintaining the high expectations that the country has for you. You have a special status in society much like the samurai. They are expected to hold a high moral standard, are trained to handle weapons, be loyal to their country and President, and are devoted to their duty. When a solider dies in the field, or even off, they are honored to the highest degree because it is seen as a sacrifice for their nation and its people.

 The difference would be that Japanese bushido is rooted in the training of the mind and spirit as much as the body. The practice of Zen Buddhism is important to the samurai bushido because it calmed their mind during battle. The goal of Zen Buddhism was for people to achieve satori, or spiritual enlightenment. When they did it was said to experience conscious of the Unconscious, also known as mushin or “no mind.” It was only then that they could attain the ultimate secret of practicing martial and aesthetic arts. They strove to use mushin to unite the body and the spirit, which would relieve their fear of death.  

 In modern times, the bushido spirit is a little different. Much of the Japanese have lost the spirit or are not interested in keeping it as a trait. Those who encompass it seem to do it unknowingly, especially the negative aspects like in karoshi. I think that many Japanese today people view bushido as an aged way of thinking that doesn’t apply to them.

 “…bushido can still be found in the martial and aesthetic arts, which follow certain forms (kata) that are practiced repeatedly until practitioners master the form and enter the state of “no-mind.” (pg. 47)

 Artists like myself practice our art over and over again until we master the form. When I was learning to paint with watercolor I had to practice the new techniques everyday until I felt like I had a grasp on it. I feel like this is the same as modern bushido spirit. Watercolor is a very free form of painting that was unlike anything I had done before. Sometimes I have to relax my mind and top thinking so much about what I’m going to do and just let me fingers and hand guide my movements through feeling and not thinking. I feel like this is the closest I will ever get to a state of “no-mind” like those who studied Zen Buddhism.

 The idea of practicing over and over again is something that both Japanese and western societies like the US have in common. American parents, teachers, coaches, and mentors encourage kids to keep trying when they are attempting something new. In the US this is done to teach persistence, patience, and determination. In Japan, I believe that the bushido spirit does the same while also asserting a more ideas of loyalty and the unification of the body and spirit.

 The bushido way is no longer a large part of the modern Japanese culture, although there are some instances where it is still seen. Largely, it is based on individuals, some having a strong sense of bushido and others who are uninterested in it. In my opinion, I think that some of the people who are moving away from the bushido way is because of the negative ways it impacted Japan in the past and present. Bushido, in part, led to kamikaze pilots in WWII and now leads to karoshi for many company workers. Suicide is still thought of the only way to show ultimate loyalty to their leaders or company, which has an overall negative outlook for many young Japanese people.

 Giri: Japanese Social Obligations

 “People who received goodwill from others in the rice field in the form of help in transplanting and reaping rice wanted to return that goodwill, and those who provided the assistance must have expected something in return. In addition, people who lived in the same hamlet…carefully noted whether they actually received something back.” (pg. 95)

 Giri is the custom of returning something for goodwill. The concept reminds me of when someone does a favor for another person and that person gives them something in return as a thank you. For example, when my dad was painting our house when I was younger his friend came over and helped. When they were finished my dad took him out to dinner and bought him a bottle of whiskey to say thank you.

 While there is no perfect translation of the term, giri is practiced in western societies like the US. We have customs of returning something for goodwill to maintain harmonious relationships at work, at home, and with friends. We exchange gifts all the time like cards during Valentine’s Day and birthdays. I think the biggest difference is that we do not always expect a gift when doing a favor for someone else. If I go out of my way to help my younger sister fix her laptop I don’t expect a gift or anything else in return. I do it because she asked for help. This doesn’t hurt our relationship in any way. Whereas in Japan, it would be considered ignorant to not give something to the other person and who would be very upset with you.

 In Japan, the concept of giri is deeply rooted in the history of rice growing. People had to work closely together and help each other during the tough days of planting and harvesting rice. This built a custom of returning gratitude through gifts or gestures that remains strong in the Japanese culture today. It’s so rooted that they follow this custom even if they don’t actually feel gratitude. People from the west might view this as dishonest and wonder why even do it if you don’t actually care, but the custom is more nuanced than that. Japanese people always place harmony in relationships over everything else so this is one way that they are able to achieve that with their peer groups.  

 “On Valentine’s Day, women give giri choko to men they may not have any particular liking for as a means of preserving the harmony of human relationships; on the other hand, they give honmei choko to men they really care for.” (pg.98)

 Valentine’s Day in the US is much more of a romantic holiday than it is in Japan. The action of giri choko makes me think of when we are young and exchange Valentines with our whole class in elementary and middle school. Even if you didn’t like someone you still had to give them a gift so they didn’t feel left out. I think that it similar to giri choko just on a different scale since in Japan it is performed between two adults.  

 In America, for adults, giri choko might seem a little weird or inappropriate. We do not give gifts to men that we don’t have any sort of relationship with because it would be seen as improper. We have other holidays designated for this kind of gift giving like Boss’ Day. Women do not give gifts to men they’re not in a relationship with just to maintain harmonious relationships. Also, Valentine’s Day is considered a mutual holiday in the US meaning that women and men exchange gifts. If a woman gave her boyfriend a gift on Valentine’s Day she would expect one in return immediately. However, in Japan it is the opposite. Boys perform okaeshi on White Day, a month later, to return the gifts.  

 While Valentine’s Day is relatively new holiday in Japan, it is a reflection of giri. The exchange of gifts is not just a reflection of love, but also a way to maintain harmonious relationships with others. Women do this by separating the two forms of social duty into giri choko and honmei choko. Separating the two makes it easy for everyone to understand her intentions with no misunderstanding.

 The Japanese Ie System

 “The position of women was low in the ie system since it was believed they were inferior to men. Even if they married well, women were in a weak position because they could be sent away for any reason.” (pg. 120)

 I chose this quote because I grew up in a family with no brothers and a strong female influence. I have 3 sisters and it is very foreign to me to think that women are viewed as inferior in any way. Growing up I was taught to be independent and not rely solely on my husband or boyfriend. My parents instilled that I should work hard in school and at work to make my own money and pave my own way. My dad was the only man in my house, but my mother was equal to him in every way. They both worked hard to raise my sisters and me, both having their strengths and weaknesses.  

 In the US the concept of women being inferior to men, however, is not an altogether foreign concept. Women are largely seen as inferior and are told that their role as a wife and mother should outweigh their ambitions. At the same time, the role of women in the US compared to Japan is still very far ahead in regard to female independence. Many women have families and work to support their families like their husbands. They have a say a bigger role in finances and other household things. In Japan, it is sometimes hard for single women to get jobs. Women are supposed to marry and have children to maintain the family line of their husbands. Oftentimes, they are solely responsible for raising their children, including all the things that come with that like feeding, clothing, and so on. Husbands play a much smaller role in the raising of children because it is seen as the wife’s job.

 In Japan, women are viewed as inferior to men because of the ie system. Patriarchism is one of the main components of the ie system that still has influences today. The male is the head of the household and has to maintain order, power, and influence in the family. Family members obeyed his orders to maintain a level of harmony in the group. Modern Japan is still inclined by this even though there are more nuclear families. Typically males are the ones who work to bring the family money and have the final say in all matters like marriage, household, and legal.

 “Second, the law allowed parents to control the lives of their children because they needed the consent of their parents when they marries, divorced, took part in adoption, or engaged in business or other occupations. Parents could choose where their children lived, and managed their children’s property and that of their children’s wives.” (pg. 123)

 I personally could never imagine having to ask my parents, or more specially my father, for permission to do any of the examples in the quote. It’s a little mind-boggling to imagine having to explain my reasons for wanting a divorce and hoping he agrees to it. Divorce and marriage are very personal, and I think it would be inappropriate and uncomfortable to have to explain why I wanted one to my father.

 In the US, this amount of power is not given solely to the father. More often than not, power is divided more equally amongst father and mother. However, even then, they do not hold these rights of power over their children. American children don’t need to go to their parents if they want to start a business, or be told where they could live. There are plenty of times when children marry someone that their father disapproves of, but the father cannot stop the marriage from happening just because he doesn’t like the potential spouse. In Japan, even though this code was ended after WWII, it still has influence over families. If a woman’s father disapproves of her marriage partner, he may cut her out of his life as a result. People in Japan take into consideration the opinions of their parents much more than those in the US. So if a father disapproves of a potential spouse, his daughter might take hi more seriously than someone from the US.

 In Japan, before they revised the civil code after WWII, the Japanese lived under a revised code of family law that defined the father as the head of the household. He held the right of power over his children because it was considered sacred and to be obeyed. One of the reasons this was done was because it was a good way to ensure obedience and the family line. If the father can oversee who his sons and daughters marry, then there is a higher chance of a good match that will lead to heirs. The same went when it came time for the sons to look for jobs. They had to be approved because the father wanted to make sure that the son could provide for his family and bring pride to his whole family.

[myupdatesystems-blog]

Activity Internet Online Marketing Information

New Post has been published on https://myupdatesystems.com/2017/04/14/activity-internet-online-marketing-information/

Activity Internet Online Marketing Information

NETWORKING

You didn’t learn it at school, or at the office. Would you believe your mother?

Networking is more than shaking hands and giving out business cards. Forget about the endless networking skills you may have learned at the office. We just have to put the few lessons mother taught us into practice. As a kid, we were always in a hurry to find something better. Our mothers taught us patience.

If you’re in a hurry you miss the value that can be built taking time with building relations in networking. Establishing a relationship by taking time, gives you a solid framework in networking building.

Your mother worked hard as an example. This is one of the better examples in networking she gave you. That’s why it is called networking, not sit work. For networking to be successful you have to work hard and put out the effort.

Remember her telling you to share your things with others? Some of our best resources are time, money, and information we are willing to give to the relationship. They appreciate us when we are willing to give to the relationship.

She always made you clean up after yourself. In networking, follow-up is required. Whether it’s a promise to meet someone, or just a thank you is one of the most important lessons of networking. These life lessons we learned from the mother during childhood are solid bases for strong networking skills. Thank you, mother, for all your help.

The biggest time spending selling, more so in mail order or on the Internet is developing a relationship with your customer and building trust. If you did a good job in the first two, closing a sale will take the smallest of your time spend with your customer.

CARD TRANSACTIONS REPORT TO IRS

Starting in 2011, banks or other companies that process credit cards must report the amount of the payments a merchant receives on card transactions to the IRS. The law will not apply to merchants doing less than 200 transactions totalling less than $20,000.

SCREENSAVERS

If you are looking for something different remember windows has a great choice. Don’t unload any free ones from anywhere, could have bugs, and almost impossible to delete.

For windows screen savers, right click on a blank area of desktop. Click “properties”, “screen savers”. Click the arrow to the right of “screen savers” just below the monitor. Pick the one you want. For the best information for your site or to check your competitors for persons who use Google AdWords, try out the Google AdWords Keyword Tool.

ADVANCED NEWS SEARCHES

A new offering from Google – Advanced News Search, allows visitors to scour headlines by date, location, exact phrases or publication. People can use it retrieve articles from more than 4,500 news outlets publishing on the Web.

WEB PAGE TRANSLATION This feature is particularly helpful if your search has non-English results. Google offers a facility to auto-martially translate a page for you in English. Currently, Google supports Italian, French, Spanish, German, and Portuguese languages.

LIGHTSIDE

A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP

All the rooms were taken when the soldier got into town. After pleading with the desk clerk, the clerk remarked. “Well, I do have a double room with only one occupant, but to tell you the truth he snores so loudly that people in the adjoining room have complained. I am not sure it would be worth it to you”. “No problem.” The tired army guy assured him, “I will take it’.

When he came down for breakfast the next morning the clerk asked, “How did you sleep?” “Never better”, replied the soldier. The desk clerk was impressed. “No problem with the other guy snoring”, the clerk asked?” “No I shut him up in no time”, explained the soldier. “How did you manage that?” asked the clerk.

“Well, he was already in bed, snoring away, when I walked into the room, so I gave him a kiss on the cheek”, explained the soldier”. “Then, I whispered in his ear Good night beautiful, and he sat up all night watching me.

COMPUTER WARNING

The tip on unplugging your computer from the wall outlet during a thunderstorm was sound advice. And we’re coming to the season when thunderstorms become more frequent. But let’s take that advice one small step further. Take the time to also unplug your modem from the telephone line! Surges can also pass through the telephone lines and even a small surge of static electricity can fry the delicate circuitry in your modem.

Your Clipboard can be seen by any hacker. For your protection, you should not copy passwords, credit card numbers or other sensitive information. To prevent this from happening to go to Internet Explorer: Click Tools, Internet Options, Security tab, Internet section. Go down to the Security level box, and click the Custom Level button. Scroll down to Scripting, and find the entry, “Allow Programmatic clipboard access” or “Allow paste operations via script”. Click Disable or Prompt. Click OK.

The American Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) is warning that hitman scam is back in a big way. The hacker behind it is sending out a flood of emails threatening to kill the recipient if he does not receive several thousand dollars.

This scam first popped up in December 2006, then again this last February. Some personal info is included in the emails, to make it look like the crook knows all about you. The FBI advises that you just ignore the email. Report it to the Internet Crime Complaint Center.

ONLINE RENTAL FRAUD

June, August, September, January are competitive months for rental suites.

There are a lot of fraudulence ads being placed free on Craigslist etc. Crooks ply on the shortage of apartments by placing ads on these sites. When someone answers they are informed owner had to go out of the country for a funeral or what ever. They had no one that they could have left the keys with so the apartment could be checked.

Now comes the kicker. If you’re interested in renting the apartment, send $900.00 as damage deposit, and $1200.00 for the first month’s rent and the key would be courier to them.

There is a limited supply of apartments on the market, so this is a huge target for scammers.

Don’t fall for this scam. People need to do their homework, physically see the apartment, talk to the owners’ and have a written contract.

WARNING, CAR JACKERS IN MALL

CST. Eric Doran #656 Chatham – Kent Police Court Services Here’s the latest tactic by car thieves.

Heads up everyone! Please keep this circulating. You walk across the parking lot, unlock your car and get inside. You start the engine and shift into reverse when you look into the rear-view mirror to back out of your parking space. You notice a piece of paper stuck to the middle of the rear window. So, you shift into Park, unlock your doors and jump out of your car to remove that paper (or whatever it is) that is obstructing your view.

When you reach the back of your car, that is when the car jackers appear out of nowhere, jumps into your car and take off. They practically mow you down as they speed off in your car. And guess what, ladies? I bet your purse is still in the car. So now the carjacker has your car, your home address, your money, and your keys. Your home and your whole identity are now compromised!

Men, you too are at risk. You can say good bye to your briefcase, and if your like many guys, who keep their wallet in the glove compartment, with your driver’s licence, credit cards, plus.

If you see a piece of paper stuck to your back window, just drive away, remove the paper later and be thankful that you read this e-mail. I hope you will forward this to friends and family, especially to women. A purse contains all kinds of personal information and identification documents, and you certainly do NOT want this to fall into the wrong hands.

Phishing still catches millions of persons who give out their personal information, believing the e-mail they received was from a bank, PayPal, taxation branch, or some other Government Department. Further, instead of typing in the URL supplied by the Phisher they just clink on it. Just because the URL has the proper heading doesn’t mean it is going to a legit URL. In phishing they have it redirected if you click on the URL and they get your personal information.

We trust our Government to safeguard the information we give them. But did you know that the government is among the biggest sources of ID leaks and that penalties for ID theft are rarely imposed on those who are negligent.

For more information on how to protect your computer and ID theft check out the website below.

NEW WEBSITE FIGHTING CRIME

The B.C. Crime Prevention Association has just launch a new website last week. Originally set up to support law enforcement, now available to everyone.

Information on cyber bulling, resource guides, blogs, printed materials including copyright law, staking, fraud awareness, I.D.theft, senior safety, and crime-proofing property.

PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR COMPUTER TOO.

Internet Explorer sorts web sites for you, Internet, local Internet, trusted sites, restricted sites.

If you don’t see the slider in any zone, click the default button. For restricted sites zones, I would suggest the slider to be at the very top, on high. It is the safest way to browse. It also is the most restricted. But with all the sites that could have harmful content that may damage your computer, necessary. Don’t forget to click OK to exit.

COMPUTER SECURITY TERMS

Adware is software that causes advertising to pop up on your computer display; without your permission.

Malware is malicious software that includes viruses, spyware, and other types of harmful programs.

Badware is adware or spyware that tracks your online activities and provides that information to others without your knowledge.

Spyware is software that’s installed on your PC via downloaded programs. It transmits data to others about your business, behaviour on line.

A virus is typically a small, malicious program that can infect programs and replicate itself.

Spam, Virus, Spyware, Phishing, is still big headaches for people online. Consumers have lost over $9 billion; more then 3 million computers have had to be replaced because of viruses.

DROP SHIP, WHOLESALE

SaleHoo makes importing easy. SaleHoo is a leading directory of drop ship, wholesale, liquidation and manufacturing distributors, and presents a constant and reliable supply of wanted items. Start your importing adventure with SaleHoo, and then spread your wings over the world.

ADVANCED NEWS SEARCHES

A new offering from Google – Advanced News Search, allows visitors to scour headlines by date, location, exact phrases or publication. People can use it retrieve articles from more than 4,500 news outlets publishing on the Web.

WEB PAGE TRANSLATION

This feature is particularly helpful if your search has non-English results. Google offers a facility to auto-martially translate a page for you in English. Currently, Google supports Italian, French, Spanish, German, and Portuguese languages.

Learn and Earn. Good luck.

Article Source: Bruce Chambers sold his printing, publishing, mail order business and retired in 1980. He came on the Internet in 2003. He researched for 1 year and then started a free monthly Activity Internet Marketing Report, plus free monthly Grandma Hystad’s Recipes, bar mixes, tips newsletters. At present he resells from his website.

[beingmad2017-blog]

Activity Internet Online Marketing Information, Computer, Fraud Tips

New Post has been published on https://beingmad.org/activity-internet-0nline-marketing-information-computer-fraud-tips/

Activity Internet Online Marketing Information, Computer, Fraud Tips

NETWORKING

You didn’t learn it at school, or at the office. Would you believe your mother?

Networking is more than shaking hands and giving out business cards. Forget about the endless networking skills you may have learned at the office. We just have to put the few lessons mother taught us into practice. As a kid, we were always in a hurry to find something better. Our mothers taught us patience.

If you’re in a hurry you miss the value that can be built taking time with building relations in networking. Establishing a relationship by taking time, gives you a solid framework in networking building.

Your mother worked hard as an example. This is one of the better examples in networking she gave you. That’s why it is called networking, not sit work. For networking to be successful you have to work hard and put out the effort.

Remember her telling you to share your things with others? Some of our best resources are time, money, and information we are willing to give to the relationship. They appreciate us when we are willing to give to the relationship.

She always made you clean up after yourself. In networking, follow-up is required. Whether it’s a promise to meet someone, or just a thank you is one of the most important lessons of networking. These life lessons we learned from the mother during childhood are a solid basis for strong networking skills. Thank you, mother, for all your help.

The biggest time spends in selling, more so in mail order or on the Internet is developing a relationship with your customer and building trust. If you did a good job in the first two, closing a sale will take the smallest of your time spend with your customer.

CARD TRANSACTIONS REPORT TO IRS

Starting in 2011, banks or other companies that process credit cards must report the amount of the payments a merchant receives on card transactions to the IRS. The law will not apply to merchants doing less than 200 transactions totaling less than $20,000.

SCREENSAVERS

If you are looking for something different remember windows has a great choice. Don’t unload any free ones from anywhere, could have bugs, and almost impossible to delete.

For windows screen savers, right-click on a blank area of the desktop. Click “properties”, “screen savers”. Click the arrow to the right of “screen savers” just below the monitor. Pick the one you want. For the best information on your site or to check your competitors for persons who use Google AdWords, try out the Google AdWords Keyword Tool.

ADVANCED NEWS SEARCHES

A new offering from Google – Advanced News Search, allows visitors to scour headlines by date, location, exact phrases or publication. People can use it retrieve articles from more than 4,500 news outlets publishing on the Web.

WEB PAGE TRANSLATION

This feature is particularly helpful if your search has non-English results. Google offers a facility to auto-martially translate a page for you in English. Currently, Google supports Italian, French, Spanish, German, and Portuguese languages.

LIGHTSIDE

A GOOD NIGHT’S SLEEP

All the rooms were taken when the soldier got into town. After pleading with the desk clerk, the clerk remarked. “Well, I do have a double room with only one occupant, but to tell you the truth he snores so loudly that people in an adjoining room have complained. I am not sure it would be worth it to you”. “No problem.” The tired army guy assured him, “I will take it’.

When he came down for breakfast the next morning the clerk asked, “How did you sleep?” “Never better”, replied the soldier. The desk clerk was impressed. “No problem with the other guy snoring”, the clerk asked?” “No I shut him up in no time”, explained the soldier. “How did you manage that?” asked the clerk.

“Well, he was already in bed, snoring away, when I walked into the room, so I gave him a kiss on the cheek”, explained the soldier”. “Then, I whispered in his ear Good night beautiful, and he sat up all night watching me.

COMPUTER  WARNING

The tip on unplugging your computer from the wall outlet during a thunderstorm was sound advice. And we’re coming to the season when thunderstorms become more frequent. But let’s take that advice one small step further. Take the time to also unplug your modem from the telephone line! Surges can also pass through the telephone lines and even a small surge of static electricity can fry the delicate circuitry in your modem.

Your Clipboard can be seen by any hacker. For your protection, you should not copy passwords, credit card numbers or other sensitive information. To prevent this from happening to go to Internet Explorer: Click Tools, Internet Options, Security tab, Internet section. Go down to the Security level box, and click the Custom Level button. Scroll down to Scripting, and find the entry, “Allow Programmatic clipboard access” or “Allow paste operations via script”. Click Disable or Prompt. Click OK.

The American Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) is warning that hitman scam is back in a big way. The hacker behind it is sending out a flood of emails threatening to kill the recipient if he does not receive several thousand dollars.

This scam first popped up in December 2006, then again this last February. Some personal info is included in the emails, to make it look like the crook knows all about you. The FBI advises that you just ignore the email. Report it to the Internet Crime Complaint Center.

ONLINE RENTAL FRAUD

June, August, September, January are competitive months for rental suites.

There are a lot of fraudulence ads being placed free on Craigslist etc. Crooks ply on the shortage of apartments by placing ads on these sites. When someone answers they are informed owner had to go out of the country for a funeral or whatever. They had no one that they could have left the keys with so the apartment could be checked.

Now comes the kicker. If you’re interested in renting the apartment, send $900.00 as the damage deposit, and $1200.00 for the first month’s rent and the key would be courier to them.

There is a limited supply of apartments on the market, so this is a huge target for scammers.

Don’t fall for this scam. People need to do their homework, physically see the apartment, talk to the owners’ and have a written contract.

WARNING, CAR JACKERS IN MALL

CST. Eric Doran #656 Chatham – Kent Police Court Services Here’s the latest tactic by car thieves.

Heads up, everyone! Please keep this circulating. You walk across the parking lot, unlock your car and get inside. You start the engine and shift into reverse when you look into the rear-view mirror to back out of your parking space. You notice a piece of paper stuck to the middle of the rear window. So, you shift into Park, unlock your doors and jump out of your car to remove that paper (or whatever it is) that is obstructing your view.

When you reach the back of your car, that is when the car-jackers appear out of nowhere, jumps into your car and take off. They practically mow you down as they speed off in your car. And guess what, ladies? I bet your purse is still in the car. So now the carjacker has your car, your home address, your money, and your keys. Your home and your whole identity are now compromised!

Men, you too are at risk. You can say goodbye to your briefcase, and if you’re like many guys, who keep their wallet in the glove compartment, with your driver’s license, credit cards, plus.

If you see a piece of paper stuck to your back window, just drive away, remove the paper later and be thankful that you read this e-mail. I hope you will forward this to friends and family, especially to women. A purse contains all kinds of personal information and identification documents, and you certainly do NOT want this to fall into the wrong hands.

Phishing still catches millions of persons who give out their personal information, believing the e-mail they received was from a bank, PayPal, taxation branch, or some other Government Department. Further, instead of typing in the URL supplied by the Phisher, they just clink on it. Just because the URL has the proper heading doesn’t mean it is going to a legit URL. In phishing they have it redirected if you click on the URL and they get your personal information.

We trust our Government to safeguard the information we give them. But did you know that the government is among the biggest sources of ID leaks and that penalties for ID theft are rarely imposed on those who are negligent?

For more information on how to protect your computer and ID theft check out the website below.

NEW WEBSITE FIGHTING CRIME

The B.C. Crime Prevention Association has just launched a new website last week. Originally set up to support law enforcement, now available to everyone.

Information on cyberbullying, resource guides, blogs, printed materials including copyright law, stalking, fraud awareness, I.D.theft, the senior safety, and crime-proofing property.

PROTECT YOURSELF AND YOUR COMPUTER TOO.

Internet Explorer sports websites for you, Internet, local Internet, trusted sites, restricted sites.

If you don’t see the slider in any zone, click the default button. For restricted sites zones, I would suggest the slider be at the very top, on high. It is the safest way to browse. It also is the most restricted. But with all the sites that could have harmful content that may damage your computer, necessary. Don’t forget to click OK to exit.

COMPUTER SECURITY TERMS

Adware is software that causes advertising to pop up on your computer display; without your permission.

Malware is malicious software that includes viruses, spyware, and other types of harmful programs.

Badware is adware or spyware that tracks your online activities and provides that information to others without your knowledge.

Spyware is software that’s installed on your PC via downloaded programs. It transmits data to others about your business, behavior online.

A virus is typically a small, malicious program that can infect programs and replicate itself.

Spam, Virus, Spyware, Phishing, is still big headaches for people online. Consumers have lost over $9 billion; more than 3 million computers have had to be replaced because of viruses.

DROP SHIP, WHOLESALE

SaleHoo makes importing easy. SaleHoo is a leading directory of the drop ship, wholesale, liquidation and manufacturing distributors, and presents a constant and reliable supply of wanted items. Start your importing adventure with SaleHoo, and then spread your wings over the world.

ADVANCED NEWS SEARCHES

A new offering from Google – Advanced News Search, allows visitors to scour headlines by date, location, exact phrases or publication. People can use it retrieve articles from more than 4,500 news outlets publishing on the Internet Computer.

WEB PAGE TRANSLATION

This feature is particularly helpful if your search has non-English results. Google offers a facility to auto-martially translate a page for you in English. Currently, Google Information supports Italian, French, Spanish, German, and Portuguese languages.