#robert california imagine

[allmyandroids]

Just saying that I ship Robert California with Andy Bernard soooo so much?????💥💥

[tanadrin]

Imagine that a century or two from now, the eastern half of the United States is conquered by the Canadian Empire, its intelligentsia deported, its land colonized by Canadian immigrants, and its remaining people mostly gradually absorbed into a Neo-Canadian identity. The West reorganizes, developing a new political and cultural center, and comes to regard itself as the "true" United States, with the remnant culture of the East (by now much changed by Canadian rule) as representing an unchanged tradition stretching back to the time of George Washington. The holdout western half is subsequently conquered by the Reformed Mexican Empire, and while most of the population remains in situ, its elite is taken to Mexico City. There, for three or four generations, they do their best to maintain their distinct American identity, focusing on the American "civil religion," the distinctive political ideals and cultural features that mark them out as Americans, and come up with a new way of interpreting their history that allows America to be a perennial idea, something not directly physically tied to the territory of the United States, which no longer exists. They compose a body of historical works based on Washington Irving's rather fabulistic approach to early American history, the half-remembered popular versions of the stories of Columbus and the Pilgrims, the First Thanksgiving, even the Revolutionary War. They don't have access to the original texts anymore--let's say this is all taking place in a post-Collapse North America where long-range travel and communication is difficult and a lot of history has been lost--but they do their best. They append to these books, or include in their text, of history a copy of the Constitution, big chunks of the United States Code, and Robert's Rules of Order.

Subsequently, the Empire of Gran Columbia invades, conquers southern and central Mexico, and its Emperor lets the captive Americans go home. They return north, mostly to California, find that the version of American history and civics that is remembered there isn't the same as the version they have (not that the Californian one is correct--the Mexican Empire has suppressed English-language education and high culture in its Aztlani provinces), and set about reforming and reorganizing the Western States (as they're now called) to be more in line with the forms they brought back from the exile. In the meantime, other bits of important literature start being kept in libraries next to copies of the received histories: some bits of early American literature, like Hawthorne, the Song of Hiawatha, some highly abridged Herman Melville, Thomas Paine--heck, even some John Locke, and quotes or fragments from Shakespeare. Some traditionalists now argue the capital of the United States has always been located in San Francisco, and that Washington, D.C. only because the capital later, under the influence of Eastern heretics.

In the following centuries, the Western States retain their independence for a time, but eventually become a secondary battleground for a lot of other empires--the Mexicans, the Canadians, the Pan-Pacific Federation, and so forth. American culture remains distinctive, insulted in part by its unique traditions, though now everybody speaks Future Spanish, and only learns English to read the old texts. In this period additional material, including later compositions, continues to accrete, forming a distinct body of sacred American scripture, although it does not exist in a single canonical form. Attempts to reconcile distinct sources, like more literal and historically-grounded accounts versus the simplified narratives of figures like Irving, produce hybrid texts that sometimes are full of internal conflicts.

Oh, and through all this, some institutions of American government like the Supreme Court still function, although their rulings only apply to Americans, and there isn't much in the way of a federal bureaucracy.

Finally the Great and Sublime Brazilian Potentate conquers most of the Americas, sets up an American client state that roughly coincides with the heartland of the old Western States (California, Oregon, most of Washington and Nevada), and allows the Americans to elect their own President (subject, of course, to Brazilian approval). During this period, an apocalyptic street preacher from Los Angeles claims to have inherited the authority and power of George Washington, and is executed by the Brazilians; his later followers point to the prophecies of Emperor Norton, and out-of-context bits of a Quebecois translation of Moby-Dick and some Mark Twain stories to say no, really, he was George Washington. Inexplicably, a version of this religion becomes the dominant faith of the Brazilian Empire before it collapses. But long before then the American state in California fails, crushed when it tries to revolt against Brazilian rule; the remnant Easterners likewise dwindle down to only a few hundred souls living in a village in Alexandria, Virginia. Centuries from now, as the descendants of the descendants of the Brazilians colonize Mars, they will point to the sacred Americanist scriptures, the Neo-Americanist narratives of their prophet's life, and the letters written by the early leaders of Neo-Americanism, and say, "all of this was written by the spirit of George Washington, and is free from contradictions." Meanwhile the remnant Americanists, who have been writing about Americanism and how it applies to their everyday lives in the centuries since, and whose commentary has formed around the copies of the last editions of the U.S. Supreme Court Reporter (SCOTUS managed to outlast the final American state by a hundred years or so) plus the thoughts of the remaining Americanist community in Mexico, continue to regard their traditions as the unbroken and unaltered practice of American culture, politics, and ideals as they existed since the Revolutionary War.

This is, as far as I can tell, approximately how the Bible was composed.

[peppershark]

WOLFER --- The real California history behind the Tomione Fic

Convict Lake Camp (OwensValleyHistory.com)

When I was a kid, my family frequently visited Bishop, California. I can still feel the light-headed enchantment of hopping out of the van at a relative's green, creek-watered ranch shadowed by towering granite faces of the High Sierras. The dusty road and sage-sharp aroma propelled my imagination two hundred years into the past.

Wolfer is set in 1890 Bishop Creek, and while some of the location names are changed to fit the story, the town really had ranching barons like the Sacred 28 families, churches which exerted certain levels of social power with the well-to-do folk, boarding houses for mill workers and on-farm worker housing for fruit pickers and cowboys--or perhaps the odd wolfer.

It's amazing what you can dig up when you're procrastinating working on your WIP, lol. I did a lot of initial research while writing a Gingerrose fic set in post Civil War Bishop Creek.

Here are some things I found.

Main Street, Bishop Creek 1880 (OwensValleyHistory.com)

In Chapter 1, Tom rides down Main Street to the marshal's office (played by a grudging Severus Snape) and runs into Hermione.

Way off into the upper right you can see the steeple of the First Baptist Church on Main Street.

East Line Street, Bishop Creek (OwensValleyHistory.com)

Tom chases Hermione to Line Street, where he pushes her up against the Brown's Machine Shed, which is of course re-named to fit Lavender Brown's family.

(OwensValleyHistory.com)

Check out that snow! Sitting at 4,000 feet of elevation in the foothills of the East Sierras, the snow can get quite voluminous.

W.D. Roberts Ranch, Round Valley (OwensValleyHistory.com)

The ranch near the dry saltbeds of Owens Lake where Draco visits Harry, (by way of Mad Eye Moody) might have looked like this.

Cerro Gordo photo taken some time between 1871 - 1879 (OwensValleyHistory.com

We get a brief glimpse of the Cerro Gordo silver mine when Draco and Harry ride off into the sunset together for a night of wild debauchery. The brothels and bawdy houses within these sprawling mining towns would have perhaps been some of the only public places for late 19th-century gays to be themselves. Miss Lola's was among the more famous, and I'm struggling to find the website where I originally learned this this but I believe she hosted queer sex workers and provided space for an early LGBTQ+ scene.

The silver mine itself brought together a richly diverse group of fortune seekers. I accessed California census documents and found that while Bishop Creek was mostly white, Cerro Gordo had a much more diverse population (interestingly all marked with 'I', even Latinx names).

I did a phone interview with the Inyo Historical Society and chatted for an hour with a local historian, telling him I was getting context for a novel. (He didn't need to know that my novel was also a fanfic, hahaha.) The historian told me the mine had Mexican, Black, Chinese, and Indigenous populations working as miners, teamsters (people who drive wagons), cooks, brick masons, farm laborers and all kinds of interesting jobs related to running the mine.

Main Street in Bishop Creek, 1878 (OwensValleyHistory.com

One thing that sticks out in my mind from the conversation with the historian is how the white and Mexican ranchers demolished the irrigation canals the Numuu Indigenous tribes had dug to create a green landscape in Owens Valley. Native Americans have been 'farming' America's landscape for thousands of years in a low-impact way. In Chapter 4, Tom muses on this detail as he's setting a wolf trap on Rosier's ranch.

Perhaps the most illuminating account of the region comes from Sarah Winnemucca, daughter of Chief Truckee (after whom the town is named). Sarah travelled as an advocate for Indigenous rights and cataloged her experience and the story of white settler colonization in her book, Life Among the Pauites: Their Wrongs and Claims which you can read for free here.

Thank you for diving into California history with me!

Read Wolfer here.

[girl-drink-drunk]

i'll watch the blacklist from time to very rare time and it's only for james spader and imagining raymond reddington running his criminal empire while looking like james spader at different points in his life. red looking like robert california. red looking like edward gray. red looking like james ballard. red as a young guy looking like steff from pretty in pink

[sunny-mercya]

His Reasons

Rusty Ryan x Male Reader

Fandom -> Ocean's Trilogy

Masterlist

When Danny, after being out of prison, asked Rusty to join him at a Grand Coup—Rusty had only agreed halfway to it. After all he wanted to know what exactly they would rob and risking their lives and freedom for.

And when Danny told him, they gonna rob three Casinos in good old Viva Las Vegas, Rusty wanted to know a good enough reason for him to join in such madness of nonsense.

And Danny, like the best friend and charming asshole he is, told Rusty the only valid reason;

»If we pull this off and I promise you, we will, you can finally move with [Name] to wherever your heart desires and afford the safety you have promised him.«

Danny was right, hitting a wound point in Rusty's ego, because there had been one thing Rusty couldn't give you and that was protection. Protection you from a past, you wouldn't be able to free yourself if you don't have a certain amount of money to pay for.

»Okay. I'm in, but if we fail I'm gonna send you personally to hell, Danny boy.«

Rusty might have agreed, trusting and believing in his friend that they will manage this with a 100 percentage chance of successful winning—but he also know what price it would cost him, because if they indeed fail it would be you who Rusty would lose and you're more worth to him than all the money and jewels in the world.

~~~

So far, the whole plan went, besides absolutely minor improvements of differences, hellbent well.

Rusty could almost imagine the millions, billions, of money he would have. Enough money to buy you free and finally move to either (f.country) or sweet California.

Just you and him, Rusty thought, imagining the new life—fully secure, comfortable and happy healthy—he would have with you and maybe a big family with lots of dogs and cats (and perhaps Danny, because he's your self-proclaimed older brother)

„Uh, uhm, Rusty there's–“ „Rusty, there's a problem. A You problem.“

»What?« asked Rusty, scrunching up his face in confusion. Another problem? What sort of you-problem do they mean?

„Look towards the entrance.“

»Fuck. Give me some minutes to handle this guys.«

»Robert Russel James Ryan! You do not write me a letter with such unbelievable heinous words and leave our house in such fucking manners. How fucking dare you! Do you know how fucking worried I was?!«

A few people had turned their heads, when you had marched forward to Rusty and shouted in anger at him.

Ouch, shouting his full name—yeah, you're furious and it was Rusty's own damn faulty mistake. Indeed a You-Problem.

Rusty took a few steps forward to you, having his hands up in surrender, wanting to appease you. Honestly, he haven't seen you this angry ever since Danny and him had a bloody fist fight with your "Boss", which they lost—of course, as they couldn't win against a knife and knuckleheads—and you were so furious with them, that they were taken back with the amount of cursing you said at them, while treating their wounds.

»Hey, love, watcha you doing here?«

»Don't come with such bullshit. You know perfectly well, why the fuck I'm here. So tell me now, Russel, the fuck are you and Danny—and I know that fucker is here as well—suspiciously planning to do here?!«

Rusty inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, trying to think of a way to get you away from here—before you causing more disturbance and a possible fail to the plan. Then again, he could use you for a good distraction, but no—no, no, he had sworn himself to not do such things with you.

Gripping your arms gently, Rusty pulls you close to his side and leads you away to a more secluded area of waiting.

~~~

Waking up to an empty bedside next to you and discovering your husband is not in your shared apartment, even though he told he would be on time back—and that has been days ago, I mind you—brought a lot of unpleasant thoughts through your mind.

There could be many things happening to Rusty; him having a accident, in a hospital and injured, arrested—your husband is certainly not a innocent man, he had done some bad and dangerous awful things of illegally, you're aware of it—or worst case scenario, your Boss quit the deal and killed Rusty.

You started to walk through your tiny apartment, still clothes in pyjamas—shorts and one of Rusty's oversized shirts—mind going haywire with everything and anything; be it the due bills, another round of grocery shopping—as Rusty is a total glutton and eats more than you and probably has an endless pit of a stomach—which you don't know how to pay for, the payment deal, Rusty being gone and probably killed and you still being jobless.

A lot of things for a tiny mind like yours to think about.

Then, while you cleaned, you found a note—definitely from Rusty and when you read it, you screamed in disbelief.

Yeah, sure, do a few days trip to Las Vegas and just don't tell me personally, not even the reasons for it—you thought, scoffing at your Husband, who's a buffoon

~~~

»Rusty, you tell me now why you and Danny are here.«

»I can't love, it's a surprise«

Perhaps, in perspective, Rusty should have told you personally about his little trip and possibly heist, but then it wouldn't be a surprise and loved to surprise you.

»Fuck your surprise. I thought he called off the deal, I thought he had killed you. I was worried sick.«

»I know, I know, dear. I apologise, I shouldn't have told you via note, could this prince forgive a humble man like me?«

Rusty leaned in closer, whispering the last few words in your ear as he ask for your forgiveness and kissing your cheek, when you remained silent.

„Not to bother, but time management?“

Rusty rolled his eyes, the guys could be such mood killers and a pain of annoyance in the ass. The gang was his gang though and he had a job to fulfil.

»Need to go, love. Meet me at Helios-Motel in like two hours.« Rusty kissed your lips, a gentle kiss it was and gave you the Motel-Keys.

Before Rusty could stand up and go, you had taken ahold of his hand.

»You promised me, you and Danny will be safe and unharmed?«

»Always, my love«

And when Rusty flashed you his signature grin, you let him go—knowing he wouldn't break his promise.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Lou Reed - Showtime's Rock of the 80s, The Palace, Los Angeles, California, 1984

Since we mentioned Robert Quine and Fred Maher's 1984 LP Basic yesterday ... why not see what else Quine was up to 40 years ago? Apparently he was out on the road with some dude named Lou Reed?! Have you heard of him???

Famously, Quine was not invited to play guitar on Lou's New Sensations — but in an odd twist, he was invited to play guitar for the subsequent tour, which included this cable TV performance on Hollywood and Vine. A real time capsule, complete with a revolving stage (which Lou says makes him very nervous), awesomely 1980s editing/graphics and a somewhat overexcited crowd. Reed's Michelob Lite era, in all its glory!

But everyone has a real good time together; even Bob and Lou, though typically Quine doesn't crack a smile throughout. He does show off what he might've added to New Sensations, however, tossing off brilliant, wiry solos on "Turn To Me" and "My Red Joystick." But one can only imagine the guitarist's eyes rolling into the back of his head at the doof-tastic faux-sax keyboard excursion that closes "Walk On The Wild Side" (presented by Showtime's filmmakers in black-and-white for, you know, extra grittiness).

And hey, the great photo of Lou, Sylvia and Quine above is from (where else?) the always illuminating weaponsetc insta account, which any/all Reed maniacs should be following closely.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Flying High…On The Bars 🤸🏽‍♂️ | Top Gun Maverick Imagine (Bob Floyd) Part II-Final

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

read part 1 here

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Olympic gymnast!reader (romantic), Dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of sporting injuries, slight profanity, recounts details of 2012, 2016, & 2020 Olympic Games. Emotional at the end| Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 14k+ (not edited, so sorry if there are few mistakes. I plan to go back and fix them.)

Premise: When one sets their eyes on the Olympic dream, it becomes their life. When one falls in love with a person committed to achieving that dream, it becomes theirs as well. One year after a global pandemic shut down the world and two years after the high-risk uranium mission of the Top Gun special detachment, the Games of the XXXII Olympiad have finally commenced with Bob Floyd and his fellow daggers gathering in Lemoore, California to watch the love of his life step foot on the world’s greatest sporting stage. Prepping for her final Olympic Games, gold medalist Y/n L/n thinks back on her decade long career, with obstacles, trials, and tribulations in its wake……and finding love along with way.

Note: so these Olympic imagines have been dear to my heart, because I was once a little girl doing gymnastics with an olympic dream. unfortunately it did not work out, but I love to imagine what could have been you know. As I disclaimed in part one, I am well aware of the scandal that took place with USA gymnastics (I’m utterly disgusted that it happened for as long as it did and at the people who tried to cover it up plus I wish nothing but cruel and hell to that despicable doctor.) For the sake of not triggering anyone, I have omitted to mention it in this imagine, but I am well aware it did happen and my heart is with the gymnasts who were affected and targeted.

I highly recommend listening to the song linked at the end during the floor routine bit. I lowkey nearly shed a tear cause I was listening to it while writing it and it just fits so bad. The Spotify one is not what I’m referring to, that’s just a song I love that I often think of emotional comeback stories with.

—————————————

2016: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The Games of the XXXI Olympiad

When the day of the qualifications took place on the first night of competition, Y/n was met with a major let down in the results. While thrilled to compete in the team final and have a chance at defending her titles on the bars and beam, Y/n was pushed out of the All-Around competition. As predicted Simone was the top gymnast to qualify, leaving the returning Olympians to compete against one another for the final spot. A mistake on the floor had been the contributing factor when Y/n stepped completely out of bounds on her final tumbling pass. A major deduction, she already had a low start value compared to the others.

That one big step had her chances at All-Around gold disappear.

On the mat Y/n maintained a smile, congratulating Aly and Simone as well as the rest of the team for a great run that had them take the #1 spot for team qualifications. She and Gabby’s hug lingered a little longer, both wearing solemn expressions. Both feeling the same loss, but still happy for their teammates who do get the chance to fight for the honor of All-Around Olympic champion.

“And here are the defending Olympic All-Around, uneven bars, and balance beam champions embracing in what can only be described as a bittersweet gesture. The two have been through so much together as members of the national team, competing in London together and multiple Worlds. They both had stellar Olympic runs four years ago and were so happy at the announcement of the trials to, along with Aly Raisman, represent the US in another Olympic Games. In what could very well be their last Olympic appearance, Gabby Douglas and Y/n L/n. Two world class athletes, who will not get the chance for All-Around gold.”

“I can’t imagine what Y/n must be feeling right now—finishing third overall but because of the two-per-country rule she’s been pushed out by Aly Raisman. It’s deja vu right now in the dome—thinking back to London when the reigning World All-Around Champion, Jordyn Wieber, did not qualify for the finals. Y/n has said time and time again that her motivation for training these past four years was to hopefully qualify for the All-Around competition. She was doing so well tonight, but that step out of bounds on the floor unfortunately was the dealbreaker. It now leaves us to wonder if this will be the last time we see Y/n in an Olympic Games once this week comes to an end.”

That night in her room at the Olympic village, Y/n allowed the emotion to flow freely. She cried in the shower when the realization finally set in. The All-around was now a thing of the past. The Olympian was heartbroken that everything she worked for after London would not be seen by the world. She could only imagine what the commentators had said after the results came in. They’d been talking for days how she was the expected person to qualify after taking the silver at two consecutive World Championships.

But like every gymnast told themselves when competing, anything could happen.

Y/n allowed herself one hour to cry and be depressed, but then she had to get back to work. There was no time to get in her feelings when the gold was on the line. In two nights would be the team final, and then she’d have a few days before competing on bars and finally ending her Olympics on the beam.

Qualifications were done. The finals were up.

This time around the USA was paired with China. Russia was #3 coming out of qualifications, but they were gonna be bringing the heat again. Four rotations, three athletes from each country with all three scores counting. There was no room for mistakes. Unlike four years prior in London, Y/n was selected to be part of the first rotation on vault. She was the defending World champion on the apparatus, having performed and successfully landed a triple twisting Yurchenko, making her the first gymnast to pull it off without a fall and therefore it was named after her. It wasn’t her first eponymous skill. At the 2013 World championships a transition from low to high bar was named after her following successful completion, then a quadruple spin on beam and a new uneven bars mount at the 2015 Worlds, all four called the L/n. It was speculated Y/n would unveil a new dismount in Rio.

And that’s exactly what she had planned.

On the first rotation, the vault, Y/n played it safe by performing the Amânar—a Yurchenko 2 ½ twist named after Romanian gymnast, Simona Amânar—rather than go for the full three. They wanted a good lead to start and Y/n was confident she could deliver. After many years she’d become better on vault to the point she was a contender against well known strong vaulters like Simone and Mckayla Maroney. Getting a vault named after her only increased that opinion. Of course every now and then she’d have a little step on the landing but it was never like in juniors where she was well off to the side or nearly out of bounds.

Y/n felt the pressure to the point it was almost nauseating. She was the first to kick off Team USA on the vault. What used to have a start value of 6.5 in London, the Amânar was now a 6.3. Had she done the triple twist it would have been a 7.0 start value, but the coaches urged her to play it safe after taking big steps in training. Y/n drowned out the roar of the crowd when the announcer spoke during her salute to the judge. “Em abóbada, representando os Estados Unidos da América, Y/n L/n.”

“On vault, representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n.”

Pumping out a score of 15.693, it was a spectacular start for team USA. Aly and Simone did great on their turn, soon China was up leaving the team to mentally prepare for the next rotation: bars. After everyone was done they had some time to wait. It was usually like that with the vault since it went so fast compared to full routines. Floor always took the longest of the four apparatuses so Y/n went ahead and got her grips out and ready for bars warmup.

At the end of the rotation they were in the lead, but it was close. There was no doubt after vault the competition would be a heated battle for the crown. Team USA was going for back-to-back gold, Russia was looking for redemption after disaster in London. China was looking to medal after getting fourth four years prior. It was more personal for the gymnasts with the significance of the year. 2016 marked 20 years since the Magnificent Seven won gold in Atlanta.

Then came the uneven bars, Y/n’s favorite. Coming into Rio they were the 4-time World Champion and defending Olympic champion with the highest start value of 7.1–which would increase to an 8.1 for the event finals. Her start value in London was higher than here in Rio, but with the new Code of Points after every Olympic cycle it dropped the values of several skills. She’d be last in the line up, with commentators already buzzing on the excitement for her routing.

“There’s the three-time olympic champion. Y/n L/n of the USA, getting ready for her turn on the uneven bars in this women’s team final. For those of you watching at home who are new to the world of gymnastics, this is a routine you’re going to want to watch. We’re talking world class. Y/n is the four-time World champion—first winning the title first in 2011 and went on to claim it again these last three years on top of being the 2012 Olympic gold medalist. She is a star on this event, jam packed routine with two skills named after her—which we’ll see in just a moment. All year Y/n has been the talk of hoping to repeat her London success—the US is currently going for their second team gold as we’ve mentioned several times—but Y/n is looking to come out on top in the individual bars and beam final we’ll see in a few days. I have no doubt she’ll likely take the gold in the uneven bars, but beam is going to be interesting with Simone Biles as her competition.”

“It should also be noted, Allen, that Y/n is hinting at possibly unveiling a new dismount in the uneven bars final. I heard speculation that after qualifications her coaches had petitioned a start value change for her routine. What we're about to see here is going to be the same one she performed Sunday night with a value of 7.1, but if my sources are true then we could be seeing it change to a record breaking 8.1 this coming Sunday. A whole point increase.”

When Y/n’s feet hit the mat following the end of the routine, her smile shined with the cheers of the crowd. All thoughts of missing out in the All-Around had disappeared. Flying high on the uneven bars was basically therapy for the gymnast. Her teammates were screaming, jumping up and down before racing to embrace her. Mike gave her a high-five and a hug, telling her she was magnificent. The team USA supporters were on their feet. It was a beautiful scene. And it made it all the better with a score of 16.765.

Second on the beam rotation, Y/n came through with a score of 16.046 from a start value of 6.6. It was then time for her teammates to finish the job with Simone ending the beam before they went to floor.

And they didn’t disappoint.

At the end of the competition, USA was on top of the board, with the ‘Final Five’ on top of the podium. History. Actual history.

Then when Sunday night came around, history was once again made when Y/n became the first American gymnast to win back-to-back gold on uneven bars. “She’s going for the 8.1 start value—wow, this could be history in the making folks. The reason it’s so high is because the dismount she is planning to do is rated a J-valued skill—it’s a full point. And if she lands it, feet on the ground and arms up, it will be named after her to become her fifth eponymous skill. She’s already got four to her name including a D-valued mount and transition here on bars. I’m confident we’re already witnessing Olympic history for Y/n L/n. Even if she falls off of the bar—which is a full point of deductions—she’ll still win. It would have to be a catastrophic routine for the gymnast to not take the gold—which I don’t think I’ve ever seen from her in an international competition.”

The last to go as the top qualifier, Y/n waits patiently for her turn until signaled to step on the mat. Mike gives her a routine prep talk, telling her to just do her best like she’s always done with a fatherly kiss to the head. Green light from the judge she salutes, “Representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n!” Two licks to each thumb, one clap and a deep breath, Y/n’s roundoffing onto the springboard and the routine begins.

“Very difficult mount—round off onto the springboard and half turning into a straight position to catch the low bar. Now it’s just greatness from here on out—stellar combinations of pirouettes and transitions with big releases. It just does not slow down—and what makes it so much more complicated for judges to take deductions is Y/n has near perfect form—which is very difficult for gymnasts with skills of this level. Big release combo after these handstand pirouettes on the high bar….gorgeous. Gorgeous, gorgeous form. Moment of truth here, the crowd is already on edge—some already celebrating—Y/n hasn’t had a fall and therefore may get the full 8.1 start value. The dismount she’s been hinting at all Olympic Games—can she land it for her second Olympic gold on the uneven bars—AND SHE’S GOT IT! SHE COMPLETED THE SKILL! HER ARMS ARE UP! HOLY MOLY IT’S HISTORY FOR Y/N L/N OF THE UNITED STATES!!”

Tears were in Y/n’s eyes, lip quivering as she let out a breath of relief. It was like a scene from a movie where there's that brief moment of silence for the main character before it explodes around them. Barely could she make out the sound of her own inner thoughts with the vibration of the packed stadium. Saluting the judges felt like slow-motion, and Y/n could’ve sworn she saw one give a slight nod of respect. Another had their mouth slightly agape, in disbelief the gymnast pulled it off. Shit Y/n was in disbelief herself.

“She took a huge step, stumbling to catch herself, but she got her feet on the mat and arms up for a stunning finish to a phenomenal routine. The crowd here in Rio is unbelievable with Team USA in the stands going crazy as we just witnessed Y/n L/n do what no American gymnast has done before! A J-valued dismount—her third eponymous skill on the uneven bars and a second Olympic gold! That’s going down in the history books as one of the greatest moments in USA gymnastics.” Y/n races off the mat, practically catapulting into the arms of her coach. The cameraman races after her.

“The score hasn’t even come in yet, but it’s already known to every single person here that the medal belongs to Y/n L/n. She did not fall, she had perfect form on those handstands—the only big deduction will come from that stumble on the landing. Even if she had a fall it would’ve still put her at a 7.1 start value—the highest of any gymnast in this competition. But she landed that dismount and got the full 8.1 she was hoping for. Right now the top score on the board is 15.900 but that’s about to change any second now—-IT’S A 17.408!!!! IT’S OFFICIAL—Y/N L/N IS THE TWO-TIME OLYMPIC CHAMPION ON THE UNEVEN BARS!! THE FIRST AMERICAN TO CLAIM BACK-TO-BACK INDIVIDUAL GOLD!!”

Two-time Olympic champion.

Words could not even describe the emotion Y/n was feeling. Their fifth gold medal in the Olympics…which became six two nights later in a stunning twist of events. With a start value of 6.3, Y/n gave her all the moment her hand hit the apparatus. She was just hoping to get on the podium, regardless of the color and add another medal to her collection. The second to last to compete, Y/n cheered Simone from the sides after receiving her score of 15.698–putting her in the top position that guaranteed Y/n the silver. Like everyone else in the arena gasped when the All-Around champion touched the beam to catch herself from falling off. She hated the way her heart started pumping, knowing damn well a mistake like that is a full point deduction because the judges treat it like a fall off the beam. Not wanting to get her hopes high, she rejected the thought of possibly being the winner and continued to support her friend and teammate.

When the score did come for Simone, Y/n was in disbelief. The final results were in. Just like it was London, Gold & bronze for the USA.

Y/n was now a two-time gold medalist on the beam.

She was pretty much frozen when Simone and her coach embraced her. Her arms went around Simone first, the tears escaping after a sob managed to leave her. “Unbelievable! In a stunning turn of events, Simone Biles has taken the bronze medal—Y/n L/n, the defending 2012 Olympic champion has reclaimed the gold! It’s a sweep for America—they have taken the gold in every women’s event final in Rio! Simone Biles for the All-Around, vault and floor, Y/n L/n for the bars and beam, and Team USA returning as the #1 team in the world. Take it all in for you folks watching at home. I don’t think we’ll ever see something like this again.”

“Team USA go 1 & 3 in the women’s balance beam final—It’s Y/n L/n on top of the podium once again just like four years ago, this time with All-Around champion Simone Biles with the bronze. The 20-year-old from Lemoore, California has done the impossible—repeating her London success with three gold medals here at the Olympic Games in Rio. She now has the record of the most Olympic gold medals of any American gymnast.”

Returning to the States, Y/n was met with celebration. Parades were in store, interviews lined up, and appearances on talk shows. Getting the call from James Corden felt like she’d been dreaming. Her second biggest fangirl moment came on the show when Harry Styles and Scarlett Johansson were the other guests. “Y/n, welcome to the show—this is your first appearance since winning gold in Rio. So happy to have you with us.”

“It’s an honor to be here, James,” she grinned, willing her voice to remain steady. Usually she was good with reporters and the press, but talk shows with people she admired was a different ballgame. “You know this almost feels like a full circle moment sitting beside Harry,” a hand motions to the singer, who’s brows raise a bit in confusion but maintains a smile, “It brings me back to the London Games—because I watched you perform with One Direction at the closing ceremonies.”

“Oh wow, that’s right,” he laughed, beaming at the Olympian. “Crazy to think that was already four years ago. Now you’re a repeat champion—which is so amazing.” Y/n blushes as the audience claps and hollars.

James cuts in, “Not only are you a champion, but you have the most gold medals for any American gymnast—what an accomplishment. Member of back-to-back winning teams and defending your title as the uneven bars and balance beam champion. Your bars routine has become one of the most replayed moments in Rio. Let’s actually take a look at it, here is that gold medal moment of the women’s uneven bars final,” everyone turns to the monitor. The footage of Y/n’s routine plays, capturing the moment she successfully landed the dismount and secured the gold. The audience cheered as it came to an end with Y/n smiling shyly. “Now that the Games have passed, people are wondering if that was it for you for the Olympics. Is Tokyo something you have your eyes set on?”

On the couch Harry and Scarlet looked just as curious. All the attention was on the athlete, causing her to become a little flustered as she thought of the best way to respond. It wasn’t the first time she was asked about Tokyo. There were already discussions among commentators—wondering if missing out on the All-Around again would be motivation to train for a third Olympics.

“I really hadn’t made a decision about Tokyo on the basis of what Rio would bring. Just getting to go to another Olympics and actually succeeding in defending my titles is an extreme honor—and I have to give credit to my girls, the team gold wouldn’t have happened without them. Simone, Aly, Gabby, and Laurie. They’re the most incredible gymnasts to ever exist and it’s a blessing I get to share that glory with them,” Y/n pauses at the claps, “I had planned already to compete in next year's Worlds, but Tokyo was not set in stone. But….missing out of the All-Around competition has definitely ignited a fire in me. I didn’t get the chance to compete in the event at London—which pretty much motivated the past four years to make the Rio team. I’ll be 24 in 2020–and of course injuries can occur, but…I think I will try to get a third Olympics—just to hopefully qualify for the All-Around. And then regardless if I make the team or not, I will more than likely retire.”

And so the training for Tokyo 2020 commenced with the athlete returning to her hometown of Lemoore. Y/n’s gym she’d been training since 5 years old had increased in students since her first Games. Many of the students, boys and girls alike, looked up to the gymnast—often sticking around after their classes just to get a glimpse of Y/n. Her coaches had been sought out by athletes across the nation, but Mike and Mary declined offers to put their sole focus on Y/n. There were plenty of other assistant coaches in the gym who could easily take on the role they were desiring. It would be until after Y/n retired that they’d take on another gymnast.

The one thing Y/n could not have predicted that first year after Rio, was running into the adorable Navy officer she’d met at the trials. Lieutenant Junior Grade Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd. While the whole interaction seemed like light years away with everything that happened after the trials, Y/n could never forget the blue-eyed man and his sister. Deep down she was a little sad at not getting a notification on social media he posted their photo. Then she could have followed him and even messaged the guy.

Y/n brushed it off as Bob maybe not having social media. Not everyone was big into it and that was totally fine. He was just a memory at that point. So one could imagine her surprise when Y/n spotted him on the air strip of NAS Lemoore, she had to do a double take.

It was a sunny spring morning on a Tuesday when the two reunited. Y/n’s car was in the shop and wouldn’t be done till the afternoon so her coaches gave her the morning of training off. Though Y/n no longer lived with her parents, having moved to her own place with the money from sponsorships by going pro, she still visited them nearly everyday. That particular day her car was at the base Firestone and so to pass time she was at her dad’s job….which happened to be at the airstrip.

Searching for the lounge to get a snack she passed some of her dad’s coworkers, offering a smile and wave. The area was mostly reserved for civilian workers, but every now and then a serviceman or woman would be seen. Finding the lounge Y/n grabbed a fruit bowl and water, not noticing the man seated at a high table with his headphones in and eyes focused on his laptop screen. Bob didn’t even see her come in, so when Y/n did a quick sweep as she made her way out, Bob was oblivious to her reaction.

“Bob?” The sudden confused tone of someone calling out to him had the man jump. When he snapped his head in its direction, Bob’s eyes went wide, frantically pulling away the headphones and pausing the video. For a moment he thought his eyes were deceiving him. But then her expression turned from shock to delight, “It is you! Oh my goodness—at first I thought, ‘there’s no way that’s him.’ Wow this is crazy. Hi!”

Bob was at a loss for words. The Olympian he met a year ago, who he could not stop thinking about since, was in front of him. “O-oh wow, hi,” he stuttered out, mentally cursing at how he sounded. “Wow, I was not expecting this to happen when I woke up this morning.”

“Same too,” Y/n chuckled, “How are you? Are you.. are you stationed here?” It hit the gymnast that it was mentioned at one point during their interaction he was in the Navy. Noticing the single silver bar, she was able to point out he was a Lieutenant Junior Grade. And judging by his flight suit, he was either a pilot, WSO, or RIO. “You’re a pilot?”

“Weapons system officer,” he politely corrects. “And yeah uh I just got here about a month ago.” Pink appears on his cheeks, “I would ask what you’re doing here….but I sorta already know you’re from here. My sister—Daisy, if you remember her—made her jealousy to me quite clear when I told my family I got orders here. But I promise I‘m not some stalker and was hoping to run into you again—quite frankly I’m shocked it happened here on base of places.”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at his embarrassment. “Don’t worry I wouldn’t have thought you to be,” she takes the seat opposite of him, Bob closing his laptop before moving it away to make room on the surface. “Yeah, my dad actually works in the civilian division—he used to be in the Navy back in the 90s. I don’t come on base often, but I had the morning off and my car is in the shop. I’m just waiting for it to finish before heading to the gym.”

“Congratulations by the way,” Bob said with a smile, “on your wins last summer. I caught some of the Team competition, you guys were amazing. Then Daisy had me sit with her to watch the bars and beam final. She was really happy you won—I am too.”

“Thank you,” she grins, “I’m glad I didn’t let you guys down. How is Daisy by the way? Still doing gymnastics?” They fell into a conversation with Bob giving an update on his sister. Before long they were asking each other questions and telling stories about their travels.

Bob also explained that he doesn’t have social media, not really finding it to be his scene. “I do, however, as embarrassing as it is to say aloud, show off the photos when people like to brag about celebrities or athletes they’ve met. They never believe me at first, so it does bring satisfaction to prove them wrong.”

It felt so natural to talk to Bob, and those butterflies Y/n felt a year ago were starting to resurface. This time when she had to leave Y/n made sure to get his number. His surprise was evident, not expecting the request but nonetheless gave it to her.

It was the start of their love story.

Texting occurred almost every night. Then a coffee date turned into dinner and soon Y/n was leaving practice in a hurry to meet up with Bob. It would be at 7 in the evening and Y/n would be exhausted by the time she got into bed, but every second was worth it as the crush on Bob started to progress. They’d go to the beach, check out a new movie, have picnics, and would spend every free moment together. At one point Y/n’s coaches became concerned, especially when the the week Bob was TDY’d her routines were shakier than usual. They were not opposed to her having relationships. Y/n’s entire career she was single save for a few flings—especially in 2016 when she hooked up with an Olympic swimmer from Germany… then a Brazilian soccer player after the closing ceremonies.

They just wanted her to be careful. She was an athlete with a career that took up so many hours of her life she barely had time to do other things. Y/n was looking to be the first gymnast since Dominique Dawes to make the Olympic team for a third consecutive Games. The All-Around was her goal, on top of defending her title on bars and beam. Her coaches didn’t want her giving up all she had worked for if she wasn’t 100% sure of her feelings for Bob.

Y/n was young. She wanted to have fun and make those lifelong bonds. Romance may have not been the priority her entire life, but she desired the day she’d meet a nice person who’d treat her right—who would one day love and she’d love them. Bob was slowly becoming that person she saw a future with. The sweet WSO with gorgeous blue eyes and a kind smile. Who would blush when she flirted with him and bring water bottles and snacks to the gym to make sure she was hydrated and fed. Who’d send her gymnastics memes just to make her laugh—especially the ones with the screenshot of her reaction when a gymnast at a World’s had yelled at a judge because of a score. Who would stick around when she trained—amazement in his gaze at everything she did. He’d ask questions about the sport, wanting to know everything about it because it was her life and passion. When she asked questions, Bob would go into detail and share knowledge about aviation with her. Hearing him be so passionate about his job made Y/n admire him immensely. After weeks of the phone calls, texts, dates, Y/n accepted something she had been scared to say aloud.

Bob was her dream person.

Their first kiss took place four months after reuniting in front of her gym. That same moment Bob finally got the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend, which she wholeheartedly accepted. Once it was official her coaches noticed improvement on her routines that had started to slack. She managed to hide Bob from the media, not confirming the relationship publicly until after their one year. Well…..Y/n confirmed she was in a relationship with a mirror photo of her in Bob’s lap and his back to the mirror so the camera wouldn’t capture his face. They’d had a discussion prior with Y/n raising concerns about him getting possible media attention. Bob had a job that may require top secret missions and to protect him from security clearance issues they both agreed to keep his identity secret.

Y/n made sure though Bob never felt like he was being hidden. She would post snap stories of their interlaced hands, his face tucked in her neck when cuddling, or the back of his head with flirty captions. Bob couldn’t go to every competition of hers, but when he did he was her biggest supporter. His sister was overjoyed to hear the news Bob had met Y/n again, Daisy literally screaming when he drops the bomb Y/n was his girlfriend.

He did, however, expose himself and their relationship in 2019–a complete accident. At the World Championships in Germany, Y/n was the reigning 2018 gold medalist on the beam—her first beam gold since 2013. After winning silver in the All-Around for the fourth time and claiming her seventh consecutive bars title at the competition, her world nearly came to an end when her foot slipped during her tumbling pass in the beam final.

Searing pain shot through her knee, the gymnast falling awkwardly on the mat causing gasps to ring out. A pained groan escaped her followed by a shriek when shifting her leg. “Oh no,” she mumbled, alarms ringing in her head at what area had just been injured. All the agony was in her knee, where the ACL was located…..

Tears sprung in her eyes as her coach and medics swarmed her. “Where does it hurt?”

“My knee,” she hissed, “shit, it’s my knee.” In her head she was screaming, ‘please don’t be the ACL. Please don’t be the ACL.’ They hauled her off the mat, the judges, spectators, and her fellow competitors all looking on with worry. An ambulance was pulled up, rushing the gymnast to the hospital where she was met with the worst news she could get; her ACL was torn and she needed emergency surgery asap. Everything that followed was a blur. All she could remember next was waking up and her coaches were by her bed. They both wore the same expression as Y/n; heartbroken.

7-9 months was the recovery period for an ACL tear. It was currently the middle of October with the trials 9 months away. Was it possibly for Y/n to get back into training and do the trials after only a month post recovery? Ideally. Was it wise? Absolutely not. They usually recommend a full year before deep diving back into a sport with an injury like that. Muscle memory after so many years of gymnastics would be Y/n’s advantage, but she’d be shaky coming into the competition, unlikely to hit her routines like she usually did. Making the Tokyo team would not happen.

Y/n pretty much cried herself to sleep. Her dreams of the Olympic All-Around and a third Games were gone. It depressed her to even think of what sportscenter was saying. When she awoke she had dozens of missed calls from teammates, friends, her parents, and Bob. She dialed Bob immediately, sobbing into the receiver when he answered with a relieved breath, “Baby.” Hearing her in hysterics had Bob nearly book a flight to Germany right there, “I’m coming to get you.”

“No!” Y/n shouted, starting to calm down. “You can’t—you’ve got that detachment. Don’t worry about me.” The same week Y/n was in Germany, Bob was returning to Top Gun for a special detachment he had little details to. He was hesitant to go with her World's so close, but Y/n insisted saying she’d be fine. If the Navy was calling him back it had to have been important.

“Don’t tell me not to worry, Y/n,” he tells her, trying to be calm but worry was laced in his tone. “I watched you fall and not get up. Had it not been for Mike calling me to let me know you were in surgery I would’ve been on the next flight out to Stuggart. And you need me right now.”

“The Navy needs you right now, Bobby. You can’t just waltz out of there—you could literally be court martialed for it,” he was beginning to protest, so Y/n changed the route. “Look, I’m going to be discharged in two days. Instead of flying home I’ll come to you and rent a beach house or something for the remainder of your assignment. How’s that sound?” After several minutes of going back and forth—with Y/n convincing her boyfriend to not risk losing his job—Bob finally relented.

They said their ‘I love you’s’ and goodbyes with Y/n promising to keep him updated on her condition and flight status, they hung up so she could get much needed rest. Unbeknownst to the gymnast, Bob wasn’t alone when she had called him.

During the live feed of the competition, Bob was in the lounge watching it unfold. There was a 9 hour difference between California and Germany, so it was the middle of the afternoon when Y/n was set to compete in the beam final. He had hooked up his laptop to the TV to stream the event since he and the other pilots were on lunch break. It probably was a bad idea, confirmed by the confused and amused looks he received from the squad, but Bob never missed Y/n’s meets even if he couldn’t physically attend.

“Since when did you like gymnastics, baby on board?” Hangman snickered. “Did you do it as a kid?”

Bob glared, turning the volume higher when the screen popped up. “My sister does. She’s who got me into it,” it wasn’t a complete lie. Daisy did introduce Bob to the sport, but it was Y/n who made him more invested. With the two combined giving him knowledge, the aviator knew everything there was. “I took her to watch the Olympic team trials in 2016 for her birthday.”

Phoenix gave an impressed look, moving to sit on the couch. “That was very thoughtful. Did you guys get lucky and meet anyone?”

Bob debated saying, but he opened the door by mentioning it so he bit back a grin and nodded. “Yeah we did. We met her favorite gymnast—it was an amazing moment.”

“Who?” Rooster asked, taking a seat on a stool. Right as he did, Y/n appeared on the screen. Now Bob couldn’t hide his smile, nodding to the TV, “her.”

All heads snapped to the screen, followed by shocked looks and some saying, ‘no way.’ ‘You’re lying.’ ‘That’s literally one of the best gymnasts ever.’ ‘I’d go as far as to call her one of the greatest athletes ever—up there with Simone Biles, Micheal Phelps, and Micheal Jordan.’

Coyote whistled under his breath, the screen showing Y/n’s career statistics. “You’re telling us—if we’re hearing you correctly, you met Y/n fucking L/n? Like actually got to speak and see her up close? I gotta see some proof, Floyd.” Sounds of agreement echoed, causing Bob to blush and take out his phone. He hid the screen away so no one could see his lock screen of Y/n and scrolled through his gallery to find the picture. The one with her and Daisy was pulled up first. “That’s her and my sister after running into her on our way out.”

Phoenix, who was sitting next to him, snatches the phone. The others come around her, all with matching expressions. “Yo, that’s fire.” “That’s so cool.” “What about you, Bob?” He tells Nat to swipe right a few times. She does and they see the selfies of Y/n and Daisy before landing on the one of Bob. “Well I’ll be damned.” “Holy shit that’s amazing.” Then Nat gets to the kiss on the cheek. “Okay, Bob!” Payback claps his back, while Hangman says, “I’m a little jealous, Bob. How’d you convince her to do that?”

“I didn’t. She offered.” Jake scoffs, not believing the WSO. Bob takes the phone before Nat could find the photos of him and Y/n when they started dating. Everyone took their seats, having nothing else to do and decided to watch the meet with him.

“Yo she’s amazing,” Nat said in awe. The screen was showing footage from the 2018 World’s and even some of the 2016 Olympics. Nat was familiar with the renowned gymnast, having tuned in to watch the Games whenever they would come on. The pilot had dabbled in the sport in her young age, but grew out of it to pursue other aspirations. She did continue to lightly follow the careers of the gymnasts she admired, and Y/n was one of them.

“She is,” Bob said in a voice Nat couldn’t describe. It was almost like it was loving. When she faced him, she saw the face of a man in love. Watching his behavior, the pilot picked up signs that he was trying to not let certain things show. Like he was hiding something. Immediately Nat was filled with suspicion—which only grew when the title card beneath Y/n’s image read: Y/n L/n—2012 & 2016 Olympic Champion, 2018 Gold Medalist: Balance Beam Age: 23 Hometown: Lemoore, CA, USA

They all gasped when Y/n fell, wincing at her leg twisting in a nasty angle. Bob leaped from his seat, hands in his hair and eyes full of horror. “Oh my God. Shit, shit, shit.” He sat back down, muttering so low Nat could barely make out, “C’mon, Y/n. Get up. Get up, baby.” She had to hold in her own reaction at the pet name directed at one of the best gymnasts in the world. ‘No fucking way I just heard that.’

Together they witnessed the athlete hauled off the mat, pain coating their entire being. It appeared she was saying, “My knee. It’s my knee.” Payback whistled, shaking his head, “That’s not good. She could’ve easily tore her ACL right there. Shit, that’s literally a career ending injury.” He should know, playing football all through high school and college, Ruben was accustomed to seeing it happen regularly.

No one besides Phoenix picked up on the fact Bob was internally losing his mind. Phone in his hand, he looked like he was wanting to make a call, but couldn’t at that moment. Then he kept tapping it to check for messages that were not coming. Nat wanted to ask what was up, but he was in no state to talk.

Soon their break ended and the competition continued. With shaky hands Bob packed up his laptop and hdmi cord. The tv was switched off and the others left the lounge to get ready for afternoon training. Nat stood at the door waiting for him, expecting Bob to be behind her when she heard his frantic voice. “Mike.” Nat turned to find her WSO speaking into his phone, back turned from her. He was speaking in a hushed voice, but the quiet atmosphere carried his voice. “How is she? Where are you guys at?” There was a pause, the person on the opposite end talking. Bob let out a sigh of relief, hand going to the bridge of his nose. “How long will it take before she’s fully healed?……9 months?—but that’ll be May she’s—….….that’s gonna put her out of the trials……fuck,” water lined his eyes. Bob’s heart was breaking for his girlfriend.

Behind him Nat was in a state of disbelief. Everything Bob said confirmed her suspicions.

He was dating Y/n L/n.

“Okay,” he sniffed, “Thanks for telling me, Mike, I really really appreciate it. When do you think she’ll be discharged?…Okay…..Um, just keep me updated and have her call me when she wakes up. I’ll see you soon…okay, bye.” Bob hangs up, placing the phone in his pocket and freezing when he sees he wasn’t alone. His face goes pale, “N-nat. Shit. U-uh how..how much did you hear.”

Her expression is sympathetic. “Enough.” Bob’s shoulders slump at the answer. “I won’t tell anyone,” she promises, tone apologetic, “I can tell no one was supposed to find out. I’m really sorry for not saying something—I was waiting for you and …well I couldn’t help but overhear.”

Distressed, Bob tries to make a joke but it comes out choked, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Checking the time he saw they were about to be late, “We better get going. I-I’ll answer any questions you have later, but please Nat don’t say anything. We—,” he was referring to him and Y/n, “we didn’t want me to be associated with her publicly yet because of this job-in case it compromised me. Only our families and her coaches know we’re together.”

“I promise,” Nat gave her word. “Your secret is safe with me, Bob.”

After training, Bob and Nat met up in the same lounge and basically told her his entire love story with Y/n. Nat couldn’t help but feel so happy for her backseater, seeing the love for Y/n radiate off him. The pilot hoped she’d get the chance to meet her one day. When Bob told Nat of Y/n’s condition, the woman became saddened—silently praying Y/n would have a speedy recovery. Just the way Bob explained it was enough for Phoenix to gather Y/n’s dream of the Tokyo Olympics were over.

It was during their conversation Y/n finally called Bob, the WSO rushing to answer it. Nat stayed silent, waiting patiently though she did raise her brows when he suggested leaving Fightertown. Whatever Y/n was saying must’ve talked some sense into him. After he hung up Nat asked, “Why didn’t you tell her that I know—.”

“I’ll tell her when she gets here,” Bob gently cut her off. “She sounded exhausted and I can tell she’s heartbroken.” His head dropped slightly. “This was her last shot at making the All-Around next year if she qualified. It’s everything to her, Nat—and her injury is gonna put her out of the VISA championships and then it'll be too close for her to even rehabilitate it in time for the trials.” Bob felt his eyes water, a tear threatening to escape. It was a loss for him. Together he shared Y/n’s dreams and aspirations. All he wanted was for them to come true after she’s dedicated years of her life for one moment. It hurt him to know it wouldn’t happen.

“I don’t want to upset her any further than she already is,” he said after a moment. “Wednesday night she’ll land at SAN with her coaches, and I’ll explain to her then—she and I had already discussed introducing each other to our friends, wanting to wait after I finished here, so I’m sure she’s not going to be mad just…surprised.”

Wednesday night Bob raced to the address Y/n sent him. It was a duplex beach house Airbnb so her coaches settled on one side and Y/n on the other. On crutches, Bob was careful when he took her into his arms. After several minutes of consoling Y/n, both grieving the loss of the Tokyo Games, Bob told the gymnast about Nat.

She wasn’t upset, in fact she felt a light weight off her shoulder. It felt nice to have someone other than their families knowing——like they weren’t harboring a dirty secret. Then when the two met the next day, Y/n was instantly drawn to the aviator. They talked for hours, with Nat offering condolences to the gymnast. It was an instant click for the Olympian and pilot, both bonding over dedicating years of their life to their dreams and making them happen. Not to mention Nat was a gymnast at one point so they talked about the sport a bit with Y/n answering questions the woman had.

Y/n didn’t meet the rest of the detachment until after Bob returned from the Uranium mission. When he got picked it was a tearful goodbye the night before he was set to leave. Bob couldn’t go into much detail, but he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it either. He was honest about the seriousness of the mission, which had the Olympian scared to death.

“Promise you’ll come back to me,” she sniffed, head laid on Bob’s chest as they laid on the bed. He was cradling her, running fingers through her hair in comfort. Pressing a kiss to her forehead he whispered, “I promise, baby. I’ll be back before you know it. And together we will get through this—I’ll be there every step of the way,” before kissing her lips.

Neither no longer cared about hiding the relationship when Bob called her days later to say the mission was a success. Y/n was at the docks when the ship returned, on crutches and limping to him as she spotted him.

“Guys…..” Fanboy trailed off, catching the attention of his fellow pilots. “Did I go into G-Loc, or am I right when I say I see Bob kissing that gymnast we were watching with him the other week?” Everyone minus Phoenix jaws dropped.

“What the fuck?” “So he just casually decided to leave out that day Y/n L/n is his girlfriend?” “What a guy—my man pulled an Olympian.”

Hangman let out a whistle, “Whatever game Baby on board has I want some of it.”

The next year and a half was a nutshell. The dagger squad became a little family with Y/n calling them some of her best friends. They were her cheerleaders during her recovery, motivating her to get back into training—for months she was unsure if it was worth it.

It was an emotional moment when she finally did decide. It was March 2020, the world was in a crisis. And it was likely to be announced that the Olympic Games would not take place that year. Instead, they would commence in 2021, giving Y/n a whole year to prepare. There were still stories being written about her—commentators counting down the days she would announce her retirement. Opinions of her supporters were mixed, some hoping she’d come back while others didn’t believe Y/n had it in her to go for a third Olympic team. Every comment, every opinion, every expectation, was starting to take a toll on the gymnast. The confidence was slipping.

Bob had cupped her face in his hands, tears streaming down her cheeks as he said with absolute love in his voice, “Look at me. You are the most dedicated, hardworking, driven and inspiring person I’ve ever met. Screw what everyone is saying—You are one of the greatest gymnasts to exist. The best there ever is on the uneven bars. Baby you’ve made history. And anything you set your mind to can be done. You did in 2016, when everyone thought it wasn’t possible, and you can do it again, Y/n. You can make this team. You can get to the All-Around. You can get the gold. I believe in you, your supporters believe in you, your parents, your coaches. We all believe you can do it. You have to believe in yourself, Y/n. Tokyo is in your grasp, you just have to take it.”

Everyday during lockdown Y/n was in the gym with only her coaches and sometimes Bob. Classes & training for gymnasts were put on hiatus until the end of summer. From 6am to 11am and 1pm to sometimes 9pm Y/n was nonstop running routines and conditioning until the sweat dripped from her forehead and her body ached. At least once a week she’d end practice just crying to feel a release of stress. Her ACL was healed, her personal trainer focusing on getting the muscle back into competitive ability. They were taking it day by day. The last thing they needed was to be back at square one.

Some days were hard. Those were the ones that had Y/n questioning everything. But with Bob and her support system by her side, Y/n was determined. It was a long and harsh battle with many obstacles, but it was all worth it when Y/n’s was one of fifteen gymnasts competing at the U.S Olympic Team Trials in June 2021. One year after a global pandemic shut down the world and pushed back the world’s sporting greatest stage, Y/n was back again at the place that started it all. The only difference now was she was older, a highly decorated athlete…..and a married woman.

Bob had popped the question on their three-year anniversary, the two officially tying the knot at the beginning of 2021 before a small group of close friends and family. Coming into the trials, her name on the roster and title card for commentators now read Y/n L/n-Floyd, but most people still referred to her as just Y/n L/n. Her ring was often tucked away in her bag or worn around Bob’s neck whenever she competed. It sucked to not wear it, but the only jewelry allowed in competition were simple stud earrings.

He wasn’t alone in the stands. With him were not only Y/n’s parents and coach Mary Taylor, but his parents, Daisy, and the dagger squad. It was quite the sight when Y/n was performing. They were the loudest in their section, sitting between the bars and floor to get a good view of the whole arena. What made it more amusing, was the cameraman loved to capture their reactions.

“Y/n L/n, the ‘Queen of the Uneven Bars’—or should I say Y/n L/n-Floyd now, the two-time Olympian got married to her longtime boyfriend, naval aviator, Lieutenant Robert Floyd this past January—is set to go on bars in the second rotation of today’s trials. It’s a full circle moment for husband and wife. The two met five years ago at the 2016 U.S team trials for the Rio de Janeiro Games. Then nearly one year later they ran into each other in her hometown of Lemoore. Lemoore is the home of Naval Air Station Lemoore where Robert became stationed at, and the two hit it off. They kept the relationship hidden for a year but Robert’s identity was discreet until roughly the beginning of 2020 when they officially went public.”

“It’s so surreal to think we’ve pretty much watched Y/n grow up. She was 14 when we first met her in 2010 on the junior national team, going on to become a two-time Olympian with the most gold medals of any American gymnast. Now she’s a grown woman and married—the trials have been the sight of big milestones for the athlete. She met her future husband here and accomplished a lifelong dream twice. This past January the two got married, and Y/n has said her husband has been her #1 motivator on her journey back into gymnastics after the injury that could have very well been career ending……oh! It looks like Y/n’s got the green light from the judge, and we’re gonna switch our coverage now to a split screen—we got a mic on Robert Floyd, let’s hear how he reacts to this routine.” For anyone watching at home, their screen showed Y/n saluting the judge on one side, and Bob rubbing his hands on the other.

He sat between Nat and Rooster, his and Y/n’s families right behind them. Fanboy, Payback, Hangman, and Coyote were placed beside Nat and Rooster, leaving Bob directly in the middle of their entire group. They all cheered when the announcer introduced the gymnast—the crowd around them louder than ever, “On the uneven bars, from Taylor’s Elite Gymnastics in Lemoore, California, Y/n L/n!” All were on the edge of their seats as Y/n began the routine. With a microphone attached to his shirt, viewers of the live feed got to hear them up close and personal. Especially Bob.

“C’mon, Y/n. C’mon. Nice….steady now, don’t rush it…..good good,” Bob held his breath on her big release combo, practically leaning into Rooster. “Yeah! Okay now hit those handstands…..perfect. C’mon, Y/n, you got this. Don’t think just do,” he clapped his hands, now leaning more toward Nat. “You own this dismount, Y/n, show ‘em how it’s done. Let’s go. Stick it—stick it!” Rooster held his shoulder, Bob doing the same to him, both hovering over their seats. When Y/n stuck the landing they all launched up, “YEAHHHH!!!!”

It was absolutely dreamlike when at the end of day two, Y/n’s name was called among the three other gymnasts selected to represent Team USA at the Tokyo Olympics. Never had she reacted the way she did at previous trials. A scream had actually escaped her, “OH MY GOD!”

Mike rushed to embrace her and the two jumped up and down while crying. At the end of her floor routine, Y/n was standing at #3 in the ranks… but unlike in the 90s where whoever took the top positions in the standings were the ones selected, only the top gymnast overall was automatically part of the team. The other spots would be determined by several members of the board. One could be in the top five, but not be selected because someone was stronger in certain apparatus that they were confident would bring a medal. It was how Y/n made it to London. She was ranked #6 out of 15 when the London team trials had finished. Her vaults and floor were weak but it was the fact she was a world champion on bars with very valued bars and beam routines that had the selection committee choose her.

Now 9 years later, Yn had the most difficult bars routine in the whole damn world, a high valued beam routine and even a high valued, very difficult, vault named after her. But her floor was still weak, with a start value of 4.9. If she were to mess up on all the other events horribly, one mistake on floor would cost her medal contention. Her fate was up to the committee once again.

The entire section with her friends and family exploded when the team selections were announced by none other than USA gymnastics hall of famer and member of the 1996 Magnificent Seven, Shannon Miller. Bob jumped from his seat, as did the squad with Y/n’s mother collapsing into her fathers arms. Mary was in hysterics, Daisy screaming at the top of her lungs, and the dagger squad just going crazy. As Y/n ran up the stairs onto the floor to wave to the crowd, the guys were whistling and hollering, meanwhile Bob and Nat were wiping away tears. Bob was an actual mess, not caring to show his emotion. He was absolutely over the moon.

Y/n was going to Tokyo.

“Well there you have it folks. Your Tokyo Olympics women’s U.S gymnastics team. A combination of new and old faces: Jordan Chiles and Sunisa Lee making their Olympic debut, with veterans Simone Biles and Y/n L/n returning to the stage again. The defending All-Around champion aiming to make history as the first American to win the title in back-to-back Games, and the first gymnast since Dominique Dawes to qualify for a third consecutive Olympic team. An exciting Games is ahead of us. Simone Biles, the greatest of all time, looking to repeat her Rio glory. And Y/n L/n, the queen of the uneven bars, could very well become the first gymnast in history to win the gold three times in a row in the individual event finals.

After the celebration, Y/n ran past security to climb up the railing where her loved ones were seated. Bob took the bouquet of flowers she was holding, passing it to Nat before hauling Y/n over the railing. Everyone around her cheered, whistled and beamed at the sight of husband and wife.

“You did it,” Bob praised, tone filled with emotion. The gymnast was crying into his neck. “I knew you could do it, Y/n. I’m so fucking proud of you—you were incredible, darlin’. Beyond incredible.”

Unfortunately, unlike the trials Bob and the team plus their families would not be able to travel with Y/n to Tokyo. Strict regulations were in place for the Games, with only coaches and athletes permitted to attend. No spectators would be allowed in arenas except for the media, volunteers, and medics. Bob kissed Y/n passionately when he dropped her off at the airport.

“I wish you could come with me,” she mumbled with teary eyes, Bob caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, baby,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “I hate that I can’t be there with you. But remember, I’m gonna be cheering you on from here every second you’re on that mat and even after you’ve stepped off. I’ll be up every morning to watch it live—yes I know that’ll be three in the morning but I don’t care. I’m watching every minute. Before you know it, that gold medal will be in your hands and you’ll be coming home an Olympic champion.”

Y/n nuzzled her face in Bob’s neck, tightening her arms around him. They remained that way until she had to check into TSA. It was a tearful goodbye, the two kissing one last time saying, “I love you,” and Y/n promising to call him when she lands. He watched her go, blowing a kiss to her when she got to the end of the line and was out of his sight. Bob would’ve left the airport, but Phoenix and Rooster would be landing within the next hour so he ended up waiting for them. Payback, Fanboy, Hangman and Coyote would be coming in either that night or the next morning. Maverick was even planning to travel to Lemoore, driving up from San Diego Friday night to make it time for opening ceremonies.

Like previous Games Y/n and the gymnasts were not at the opening ceremonies. Unfortunately it was always like that because gymnastics took place the first week of the Olympics with podium training in the days leading up to the opening ceremonies. The night after the celebration of the Games beginning were qualifications and therefore the gymnasts were in bed early to get a good night's rest before competition. It saddened Y/n a bit to be missing her last opening ceremonies, but she looked forward to the closing in two weeks—there was already talk she would be chosen as the USA’s closing flag bearer.

When comparing her nerves coming into qualifications, Y/n would rank it higher than in London and Rio combined. This was it. This was the moment she had been working her ass off the last year for. When everyone thought she would be retired, here she was. Back on the Olympic stage for one last shot at making the All-Around finals.

She could not mess up, not again. Four years and the floor routine still haunted her. It was her weakest event. She needed to hit every skill, stay in bounds, and remain focused.

But she also had a job to do, and that was to do her part on the team and get them to the final. She was captain. The other girls looked to her for advice and support as it was difficult without friends and family in the arena. Only Mike Taylor, Y/n’s lifelong coach, was with them during the qualifications and would be for the finals. During the event finals, for whoever qualified, they would have their personal coach with them. Mental health was a big priority in these Games, and Y/n made it her mission to have a one-on-one with everyone before each competition. This was a sport where one had to be at their best mental state. If not, it could lead to mistakes and injuries—-they’d been so many gymnasts over the decades who got career ending injuries, became paralyzed, and even died because they were not mentally or physically in shape. She be damned if she allowed one of her girls to get on the mat when she knows something was wrong.

As the #1 team in the world coming in after the 2019 World Championships, USA was to start their Olympics once again on the vault. Every Olympic Games was different in some way. In London and Rio the teams were a five-woman squad, but in Tokyo they were four. The Code of Points had changed again following Rio, an example was the Amânar now held a start value of 5.8. Back when Y/n was in London, it was 6.5 before dropping to 6.3 in Rio.

The triple twisting Yurchenko, named the L/n, held a start value of 6.4 along with the Produnova. Y/n was the only one attempting her own vault in the qualifications, but it was decided she would do the Amânar in the final. It was the safer option.

It was an odd feeling saluting the judge without the full audience of spectators. The only sounds that could be heard were the other girls cheering from the side. Like every routine she did her ritual: two licks to each thumb, a single clap and a deep breath. Y/n didn’t think as she hauled ass down the runway, just let her body do the work. Trusting it wouldn’t let her down.

That was all she thought of the entire competition. Trusting her body that put blood, sweat, and tears for one moment in time. She knew Bob and their families were watching from home, motivating her even more to not let them down. Picturing them in the stands pushed her to give it her all each rotation.

And if fucking paid off.

When her eyes landed on the board following the end of rotation four, Y/n spun around, eyes shutting as she screamed before sinking to her knees. Mike shouted in excitement, literally running down the side and pumping his fist in the air. The cameraman chased after him, before closing in on Y/n as she cried into her hands. Qualifications were done, the results were in.

Y/n was through to the Women's All-Around Final. Her name was beside the #2 ranking beneath Simone.

“Wow, wow, wow. Redemption has been earned for Y/n L/n of the United States. Look at that reaction, the gold medalist is on the ground—overcome with emotion no doubt. Two years ago her dreams of these Games were nearly shattered when she tore her ACL at the 2019 World Championships. It would’ve put her out of the trials, but the Covid-19 pandemic pushed the Olympics back one year giving the athlete time to fully recover and train for this moment right here. She must be over the moon—her teammates are coming around to congratulate her and Simone Biles. Coach Mike Taylor is absolute joy— *chuckles*—I think he’s even more excited than Y/n honestly. Four years ago Y/n was the #3 overall ranking in the All-Around qualifications, but due to the two-per-country rule she was pushed out of contention —Aly Raisman going on to take the silver medal next to Simone Biles. Not here in Tokyo.”

“Unfortunately for Suni Lee and Jade Carey they will not get the chance at All-Around gold despite being in the top 10 overall—as the two-per-country rule we know pushes them out. Their Tokyo Games will not be over, however, Lee has qualified for the individual beam and bars final, Carey on the floor exercise. Along with the All-Around, Simone Biles has qualified for individual beam, floor, and vault. And it’s uneven bars again for Y/n L/n. Unfortunately she will not get the chance at a third gold for the balance beam, but I feel she’s okay with that. For the first time the three-time Olympian, four-time World All-Around silver medalist will get to compete Thursday night in the Olympic All-Around event for women’s artistic gymnastics. And Simone Biles will be going for the gold once again.”

Back home in Lemoore the scene was insane. It was pushing 3 am, the sun not even out yet, but the friends, families, and former teammates of Y/n had gathered in Taylor’s Elite Gymnastics to watch the live coverage of Team USA’s qualification round. Y/n’s dad was kind enough to bring his 70 inch flat screen TV to hook up right next to the floor. There was a coffee bar set out, some breakfast food and tucked away were bottles of champagne for if celebrations were in order. It was mostly adults watching the qualifications, save for Bob’s sister Daisy, however it was expected for the final competitions that residents and their children would come out to watch the coverage.

When the competition ended the screen was focused on Y/n the moment it captured her reaction. Everyone was at first worried but then the title card appeared: #2– L/N-FLOYD, Y/n (USA) Overall Total: 57.491

Everyone went wild, Bob nearly falling from his chair while the guys all jumped up and down, “LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO!!!” “SHE DID IT!!” “OH MY GOD!!” Y/n’s mom and coach Mary collapsed in each other’s arms while her dad celebrated with Bob and his dad. Daisy was crying, overwhelmed with happiness for her sister-in-law and idol. Y/n’s former teammates from her years on the national team were also in tears. Her sweet husband Bob had his face in his hands, consumed with emotion while his friends all patted his back and celebrated around him. The love of his life had fulfilled her dream. She was going to the All-Around competition for the first time in her final Olympic Games.

But before that could happen they had the team final. Team USA were #2 coming into the competition, just short of the ROC by a couple points after a few errors during the qualifications. Three gymnasts of the four would compete, all three scores counting to the overall. Just like in Rio the captain kicked off the USA on vault, bringing in a score of 14.328 after taking a big hop on the landing. Jordan came through with their highest at 14.666, and then Simone had a huge error when she not only squated, but went forward in a huge step, receiving a 13.766. Her expression was enough for Y/n and the team to see she was not doing good, the captain and coach bringing her over for a one-on-one talk while they waited for the first rotation to end.

In the end, Simone made the wise decision to withdraw from the competition. Safety and her mental well being were the priority. After errors in the qualifications it was the concern of everyone how she was and they were grateful nothing disastrous had taken place. Performing when you're not at your best was dangerous, it was the right decision for Simone to pull out to prevent from hurting herself.

The team all supported the Olympian, giving hugs and promises to get the job done on her behalf. They were going to bring their A-game these last three rotations and hopefully bring a medal regardless of the color.

It was a silver lining moment for Team USA. After a good run on bars Y/n nearly fell off the beam—catching herself in an amazing save without touching the apparatus but enough to throw her off the rest of the routine. It was the lowest score she’d ever received on beam in an Olympics at 14.096 from a start value of 6.1. Then on floor Jordan stepped out of bounds and fell on her third pass resulting in a 11.700. Their total overall was 166.096, the ROC at 169.528.

Despite what commentators were saying, Y/n was not totally heartbroken by the loss. Of course she was for Jordan and Suni not being able to call themselves gold medalists, but she was so proud of them. They had a huge weight on their shoulders by having to do more than what they expected. Jordan competed in every event and Suni had to do floor when she planned only for bars and beam. They’d given it their all and still brought the pressure, making the USA the #2 team in the world. A damn huge accomplishment.

It was a bittersweet moment on the podium. Y/n was now the first American gymnast since Dominique Dawes to medal in three consecutive Olympics. It was odd having to medal themselves due to covid regulations, whereas they would’ve been presented and medaled by members of the IOC and President of the International Gymnastics Committee. They took pictures with the gold and bronze teams before post-podium ceremony interviews. Y/n was pulled over by a reporter she’d recognized since the London Games, a barrier separating them, “Hi! Oh my goodness it’s you again!”

The reporter was just as excited, “Hello, Y/n! Lovely to see you again in these Olympic Games—your third and final, gosh I already know it’s going to be a sad loss to the sport when this competition concludes.” Y/n has to place a hand on her chest to keep it together, heart slightly breaking. “You’ve now added a silver medal to your Olympic collection and you got two more events ahead of you—including the All-Around competition. What’s going through your mind right now?”

Y/n let’s out a shaky breath under her mask, “Well, it’s definitely hard to put into words. I’m so proud of the girls tonight—they gave it their best with what was handed to them. I’m so proud of Simone especially, taking a step back is a very hard thing to do when you got a gold medal on the line for a team competition, but one has to do what is best for them—and I’m so happy she did put herself first. This is a sport where it’s dangerous to not be at your best mental state. She’s got my full support on whatever she plans to do regarding the other events she’s qualified for, and I hope people watching at home can respect her decision as well.” The athlete pauses before commenting on the All-Around.

“The All-Around…..I’m just beyond words. This was something I have spent my entire career training for. London I didn’t even do the qualifications for it and then missed out by a small margin in Rio, so this is a really big accomplishment for me. I really thought this would never happen after the 2019 World Championships—I really was on the verge of retiring in 2020. It’s crazy to think that had these Games taken place when they should have, I would not be standing in front of you,” Y/n smiled beneath her mask, eyes crinkling, “My family and friends pretty much are the ones responsible for getting me here. My husband, Bob, has been my rock—pushing me to get out in the gym, knowing how much this moment would mean to me. My parents and coaches have been there since the beginning—I owe this all to them. I’m….I’m just so excited and honored to have this opportunity. It’s been a long and hard couple years so the fact it paid off is amazing.”

The reporter beams, “Well all your supporters feel the same and we will be cheering you on Thursday night as well as Sunday when you make your final Olympic appearance for the uneven bars final. Congratulations to you and the girls on winning the silver, and we’ll see you back here in the arena Thursday night.”

That night Y/n had a quick phone call with Bob, the aviator gushing to his wife of how proud he was of her. God how she wished he could be there with her. Cheering from the stands before hitting the streets of Tokyo to explore. Celebrating the win of the team silver medal and her All-Around qualification. Bob wished it too, but unfortunately a global virus had to ruin their experience. Still, Bob made his love and admiration for Y/n known and told her he’d be up at the ass crack of dawn to watch the All-Around live with their entire squad.

Thursday July 29th, 2021–Tokyo, Japan, 8:45 pm — 6:45 EST/ 3:45 am PST

Women’s Artistic Gymnastics All-Around Final

Rotation One: Vault

“Good morning folks at home, welcome back to our live coverage of the Women’s All-Around final in artistic gymnastics. We took a short break and now we’re wrapping up the warm up for rotation one. Americans Y/n L/n and Suni Lee, the #1 and 3 qualifiers after Simone Biles withdrew from the competition, are starting off their competition on the vault.” A thumbs up from Mike and Y/n was speeding down the runway for her final warmup. She did two twists purposefully catapulting backward to stop the momentum before landing and walking off the mat.

“I’ll tell ya, Andrea, we got quite the final ahead of us. Simone Biles, the reigning Olympic Champion in this event officially withdrew this morning, allowing Suni Lee to take her place. I know we’ve mentioned it several times already but this is the moment veteran Y/n L/n has waited for. She almost didn’t make it to these Games after an injury during the beam final at the World championships in 2019. Now she’ll be the last gymnast to go in the rotation, planning to perform the skill named after her—a triple twisting Yurchenko. Since unveiling it in 2015, Y/n has only ever performed it a handful of times—in team competitions she’s usually doing the popular Amânar. With this vault she does tend to take a hop on the landing, but pulls out a big score and that’s something she’s gonna want to get a good lead ahead of everyone else.”

The warm up ended and Y/n took a seat beside her bag doing what she normally did, keeping her eyes away from her competitors. She did cheer on Suni, and then it was her turn to go. Mike patted her shoulder, pep talk brief and Y/n was on the mat saluting the judge. Her heart was pumping, but she took a deep breath after her pre-routine ritual and sped down the runway. Next thing she knew she was spinning in the air, landing with her arms raised and muttering a ‘holy shit’.

“It’s now time for American Y/n L/n. 2015 World Champion in the vault and you’re about to see why. The fan favorite to win tonight—it’s been a long journey to get to this moment. She’s got the green light…..here we go—big, big vault—named after her and gave her a World title in 2015—triple twisting Yurchenko called the L/n……..AND SHE STICKS IT! Holy mackerel that was amazing!! Wonderful start for Y/n L/n—that is going to be a big score. Her chest was low which will be a slight deduction but wow that landing.”

What a landing indeed. Y/n was grinning wide, completely blown away she stuck the vault for the first time ever. Back home the entire gym was on their feet, the cheers becoming louder when the score came back a 15.902. That score alone would likely be the highest for vault in the whole competition, putting Y/n at a great lead at the end of rotation one. NBC had sent a news crew to attend the watch party, hoping to catch the reactions of Y/n’s friends and family during the duration of the meet.

Rotation Two: Uneven Bars

“Coming into the second rotation of this All-Around final, American Y/n L/n is at the top of the leaderboard with Brazil’s Rebeca Andrade not too far behind. Suni Lee is sitting in fourth, but that could very well change at the end of this event; the uneven bars.”

With a start value of 7.5, Y/n’s routine was the most difficult of any other gymnast. The Code of Points had changed the values of a lot of skills after Rio, just like it did with London, but Y/n still made sure to have the highest valued bar routine. This was her event. The one that brought her seven consecutive World titles, two Olympic gold medals, and named her the ‘Queen of the Uneven Bars.’ Even with a fall she could very well medal.

Placed in the middle of the lineup, Y/n waited roughly 15 minutes after warm up had ended to get on the mat. Saluting the judge she got straight to the routine, doing her ritual of course. It was a long routine but it seemed to go quickly. Y/n, however, was shaky and didn’t hit the handstands as great and slightly stumbled backward on the landing of her J-valued dismount. Each little step would be deductions, but at least she didn’t fall on her ass.

“16.200 for Y/n L/n. Not her best routine on the bars with that high of a start value—she didn’t hit the handstands like she usually did, but still a big score thanks to that start value of 7.5. She stumbled quite a bit on that landing, which no one can really blame her for. It's a very hard dismount—the one she created and got named after herself at the Games in Rio. She’ll likely still be in the lead following this the end of the rotation, but let’s not get too ahead of ourselves there’s still the beam and floor.”

Y/n was really feeling the pressure, slightly disappointed with her bars routine. It wasn’t her best at all, her qualification score higher than what she had just received. But the gymnast couldn’t let her head start doubting her now. Two events were left and one of them was her weakest, the other her second strongest.

Rotation Three: Balance Beam

With a start value of 6.1, Y/n and Suni both held the highest valued beam routines in the competition. The apparatus that Y/n had two Olympic gold medals and two World titles to had been given her trouble in Tokyo. She didn’t qualify for the beam final, stumbling on her landing and missing a turn which lessened her start value. Then in the team final she nearly lost footing and fell off, catching herself without touching the beam. Flashbacks to the 2019 World’s had flashed through her mind. It scared her shitless at the possibility of retearing her ACL. Which is probably what spooked Y/n and made her stumble.

Something in Y/n’s gut told her it was going to be the same here. Anxiety was starting to rise, the gymnast battling her inner thought to focus.

“As you can see Y/n L/n is deep in her thoughts, waiting for her turn on balance beam. I wouldn’t be surprised if she's thinking about Tuesday night’s team final or the 2019 World championships. This is the event that nearly ended her career, despite it being one of her strongest apparatuses—two Olympic and two Worlds gold medals for the gymnast in the past decade.”

Unfortunately, Y/n’s intuition was right and beam was a disaster. Not only did she take a fall, but her hand touched the apparatus as well. Both worth a whole point in deductions. The whole reason she touched it was to prevent the same thing from 2019 happening, not doing so would have likely destroyed her knee. Y/n tightened her lips, not showing a reaction and simply got back up.

Her heart was pounding, but she only had a few more jumps, a spin, and a back tuck before dismounting. When she did dismount another big deduction would come at the hop and step to catch herself. Now that her routine was over the gymnast couldn’t do anything besides exhale and let it go to prep for floor. Mike embraced her, mumbling words of encouragement and patting Y/n on the back. She didn’t look at the scoreboard and ignored the clicking of the photographers as she downed a water bottle. Suni came over and gave her a hug, Y/n smiling at wishing her luck on her routine.

“Gosh that was not good for Y/n L/n. Major deductions are to be expected from that routine. You know she had been having trouble on the balance beam the entire Games—even in podium training she wasn’t as sharp as she normally was. I can’t imagine what was running through her mind. It looked like it was the same skill that nearly ended her career two years ago, and she was trying to prevent her leg from twisting into the mat upon landing and that’s why she let her hands hit the beam to catch herself. Such an unfortunate mistake for the three-time Olympian…..and oof 12.331. That’s the lowest score I’ve ever seen from Y/n—not counting the 2019 Worlds.”

“Not sure if that’s gonna keep her lead at the end of this rotation, Allen. She had an amazing start on vault, did great on the bars, but the floor is her weakest. Her start value is the lowest compared to the other gymnasts at a 4.9–there’s no room for error going further in this event. Had Y/n pulled out a big score here on beam, the gold medal would’ve been hers without a doubt. Now we really have a competition going into the final rotation.”

It felt like the world had stopped for Bob when his wife fell off the beam. The feelings he had from 2019 resurfaced, literally making his hands shake. A sigh of relief escaped him when Y/n immediately got back up and finished the routine, but he could tell in her expression she was shaken. The gymnast was doing her best to not let it show how it was affecting her, but Bob knew her better than that.

“Goddamn, that was close,” Coyote shook his head, remembering the first time he watched Y/n on the beam. It was like deja vu. “What a hell of a save.”

“I think I almost shit my pants just now,” Rooster commented, causing Nat to give him a, ‘wtf,’ look, but then Bob voiced the same and she had to hold back from rolling her eyes—although deep down she nearly had a heart attack.

When the score came back a lot of people made sounds of distress. Bob was seen scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, pressing numbers on his phone calculator. After a moment he rubbed a hand over his face, “her total so far is 44.433.”

“How much does she need to win?” Fanboy asked him.

“We won’t know until everyone else has gone. Suni’s got a start value of 5.6 on floor, the Brazilian gymnast a 5.9. Y/n’s is low at 4.9. She can’t make a single mistake otherwise she could likely get out of medal contention.”

Rotation Four: Floor Exercise

The nerves were starting to become nauseating. As the #1 qualifier coming into the All-Around after Simone’s withdrawal, Y/n would be the final gymnast to compete. Floor exercise. The final event and Y/n’s weakest for as long as she could remember. She was a powerful tumbler, but had trouble controlling the power and often would fall, step out of bounds, or take big hops on landings.

“It is the final rotation in the Women’s All-Around Final at the Tokyo Olympic Games. The Americans, Suni Lee and Y/n L/n will be ending the competition on floor exercise. Boy it’s going to be interesting folks, after the third rotation on the balance beam Y/n is now in second position behind Brazil’s Rebeca Andrade and Suni Lee in third. Anything can happen now.”

It was a long wait.

The last of eight gymnasts to compete, Y/n paced on the floor back and forth to pass time and fight the battle in her head. She didn’t want to know her standings nor did she want to know how much she needed to win. When it came to be her turn, Y/n would go out there, perform the best she could, and wait for the judges to decide her fate. Even when there was a light gasp from the few spectators in the crowd when Rebeca Andrade was up, Y/n didn’t turn around.

Part of her wondered what Bob and their friends were thinking. They’d know what she needed before she did. All she could do was pray and trust her body to get the job done. Like she always did.

“Fuck,” Bob cursed, surprising many of his colleagues. His eyes were on the pencil scribbled numbers he had just written down on the notepad. “She needs higher than a 13 to win.” After Brazil’s Rebeca Andrade, the standings were as followed:

Suni Lee at #1 with an overall total of 57.433

Rebeca Andrade at #2 with an overall total of 57.298

And Angelina Melkinova of the ROC at #3 with an overall total of 57.199.

Regardless of the score Y/n pulls out, Suni and Rebeca were guaranteed a spot on the podium. What color? That was about to be determined.

“There was a slight delay in scoring for floor, vault had already completed their rotation, bars and beam finished up just a moment ago. Everyone’s focused on the gymnast about to do the last floor routine of her gymnastics career. All eyes on Y/n L/n.” With the camera panned on Y/n, the title card read: Needs at least a 13.001 to take the gold. The entire gym held their breath when the at the sound of a beep, signaling the beginning of her floor music.

Moment of truth for the three-time Olympic gymnast. It would all come down to the 90 seconds ahead of her.

For her last Olympic Games, Y/n wanted to go out with an emotional goodbye when it came to her floor music. When she found the music piece on YouTube, it brought to tears and Y/n thought ‘it’s perfect’. Crying at the end of her routine was expected. It was only fitting to do so knowing it would be the last time she stepped on the floor.

Y/n thought back to that memory of her sitting in front of the tv in 2004. A little girl with a dream.

‘Don’t think,’ Bob’s voice sounded in her mind, ‘just do.’

The music started and Y/n did what she did best. She trusted herself.

Memories of her career flashed before her with every spin, every pirouette, every tumble pass. The first mommy and me class when she was 5 years old. Her first time balancing on the beam, the first time she pulled herself up on the bar. Dancing to each corner, Y/n could remember the excitement each time she stepped on the mat. How nervous she was at her first meet. Happiness at winning her first junior national title.

Making the junior national team at 14.

Making the senior international team at 15.

Competing at her first World Championships. Winning the gold on the bars. Her first of seven.

Making the London Olympic team at 16. Being part of the gold medal winning team. Becoming the Olympic Champion of the bars and beam.

Becoming World Champion of the beam at 17. Claiming the World All-Around silver at 18 & 19. Becoming World Champion of the vault and having the triple twisting Yurchenko named after her at 19.

Making the Rio de Janeiro team at 20. Meeting the man who would become her husband at the trials.

Winning the team gold for a second consecutive time. Making history as the first American woman to win back-to-back individual gold on the bars and beam.

Reclaiming the World beam gold at 21 and the World All-Around Silver at 21 & 23. Becoming a seven-time World champion of the uneven bars at 23.

Came close to retiring after a near career-ending injury at 23. Made a comeback at 25 and qualified for her third consecutive Olympic Games.

Reuniting with Bob at 21. Falling in love with him at 22. Marrying him at 24 to become his life partner.

Qualifying for the All-Around final in her last Olympic Games.

Y/n L/n would go down in history regardless of the outcome of this floor routine. So what better way than to finish the last All-Around competition of her life by having fun. Even if she didn’t make the podium, it would be okay.

She did the impossible when not many thought she could.

When the music ended and Y/n exhaled, she felt the lone tear slip from her eye. The sight in front her was every athlete, coach, and spectator on their feet clapping for her. Even some of the floor judges gave nods of respect when she saluted, in the distance the judges from the beam clapped with soft smiles. And when Y/n looked to the floor below, she spotted some of her competitors, including Suni, wiping away tears.

“And so Y/n L/n takes her final bow on the floor. The last time we will ever see her in an All-Around competition—what a beautiful way to go out. It’s hard to say if it will be enough for the gold. But regardless, the 25-year-old from Lemoore, California has embedded her legacy in Tokyo as one of the greatest gymnasts in the history of the sport.”

Coming down from the mat, Y/n waved to the small group of spectators including Team USA who were still whistling and cheering before she was met with the open embrace of her coach since childhood, Mike Taylor. His eyes were rimmed, indicating he’d been crying causing Y/n’s lip to quiver. “That was the most beautiful floor routine you’ve ever done, my little powerhouse. Beautiful.” Suni came over, Y/n immediately going to hug her as they waited for the score to come. The veteran gymnast told Suni how proud she was of her, letting her know it was an honor to compete alongside and against her. They’d known each other since Suni’s debut on the national team, and Y/n had immense respect for her as an athlete.

Several other gymnasts and their coaches came over to offer kind words. Many of them had been watching Y/n on the international level since 2011 before they had come onto the stage.

It was a bittersweet scene. Not only in the Tokyo dome, but also in Lemoore. There was not a dry eye in sight when Y/n landed her final tumbling pass. Several people, including Nat, Daisy, Y/n’s parents and former teammates and Bob were pretty much sobbing. There was a camera crew from NBC there to capture their reactions—no doubt going to have it shown on live tv when the competition ended.

No one could predict what would happen next.

The camera had paned to Y/n and Suni talking after several of the other competitors had exchanged words with the gymnast. A moment later a woman, one of the floor judges, was rushing up to them.

“Turn it up!” Payback yelled and the person closest to the TV increased the volume. They all watched as the woman pulled the two athletes and their coaches away from the group, cameraman getting close to hear the details.

“It appears one floor judges has some news for both Americans, let’s listen in to see what’s happening,” the commentator's voice was just as confused.

“We wanted to let you both know before the score goes up,” she spoke with an accent, likely Greek or Italian they weren’t exactly sure. “But the score for Mrs. L/n-Floyd looks to be a flat 13.000.” Bob snapped his gaze to the notebook, where the number 13.000 would result in a tie.

Y/n’s expression indicated she realized it too. A shaky hand came up to her chin, eyes in disbelief though she was beginning to grin, “Are you saying we get to share the gold?” Suni’s hands clapped her mouth as she gasped, flicking her attention to Y/n and the judge. Behind them their coaches looked so stressed they were about to become bald.

“Oh my god,” Bob lifted from his chair the same time the commentator said, “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We could be looking at history right here.”

The judge gave a slight nod, saying, “If you two have no problem with it—,” both gymnasts were nodding, tears in their eyes threatening to escape. “We want to remain fair as you know.”

“Of course,” Y/n looked at Suni, who mirrored her expression. “History, Suni. We’re Olympic Champions.” The gymnast catapulted in Y/n’s arms the two screaming in delight while their coaches did the same next to them. The judge smiled at the scene, moving to relay the news to the rest as Suni and Y/n sunk to the ground.

The entire gym in Lemoore exploded as the title card appeared on the screen the same time it did on the leaderboard: #1 LEE, Sunisa & L/N-FLOYD, Y/n (USA) TOTAL OVERALL: 57.433

Bob collapsed to the ground, Nat coming over to place her hands on his back in a comforting way while she too was a mess. Maverick came over to the two, patting Bob’s shoulder as he brought Nat into a hug. The commentator's voice could barely be heard with the noise happening in the gym. “I CANNOT BELIEVE IT OH MY GOD—BOTH AMERICANS HAVE TAKEN THE GOLD—FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE HISTORY OF THIS EVENT, THERE HAS BEEN A TIE FOR GOLD IN THE WOMEN’S ALL-AROUND FINAL. SUNI LEE AND Y/N L/N SHARE THE TOP OF THE LEADERBOARD WITH AN OVERALL SCORE OF 57.433. IT IS OLYMPIC HISTORY FOR TEAM USA!!! Y/N L/N IS THE OLYMPIC CHAMPION IN HER FINAL OLYMPIC APPEARANCE! SUNI LEE IN HER OLYMPIC DEBUT IS COMING HOME WITH ALL-AROUND GOLD!”

“OH MY GOD!!” Daisy screamed, jumping up and down with several of the local gymnasts. “She did it! Y/n did it!” The teenager pushed through to embrace her brother, who was still an emotional mess on the floor. Next to the dagger squad Bob and Y/n’s parents were all embraced with coach Mary, mirroring the expression of everyone else. It was a surreal moment as the camera showed Suni and Y/n raising their interlaced hands in the air.

Olympic Champions of the women’s All-Around.

Y/n’s seventh Olympic gold medal.

Before the podium ceremony the live NBC coverage released the reaction of Bob and the gym—which already started to go viral on Twitter, TikTok, and instagram on the NBCOlympics accounts. Bob had fell to his knees, hiding his face, so he missed out on Coyote tripping into Fanboy as they celebrated and fell to the ground. In the corner one could see Y/n’s dad run to the balance beam like he was on ‘The Price is Right,’ before sweeping Y/n’s mom off her feet.

At the podium ceremony, Y/n and Suni held hands, stepping on the platform together with their hands raised as the announcer spoke to the world, “Gold medalists and Olympic Champions, from the United States of America, Y/n L/n-Floyd and Sunisa Lee!” Members of Team USA who showed up to watch the competition were going crazy, the gymnasts in a heap of tears.

When the gold medals were presented to them, Y/n and Suni medaled each other. Y/n took the first gold, placing it around her friend and teammate before Suni did the same to her with the second gold. “Wow what a sight, folks. Truly beautiful to see two people who are not only teammates and competitors, but also friends crown each other as the Olympic Champion of the All-Around. I don’t think we’ll ever see something like this again in an Olympic Games. This is truly history we are witnessing.” The two hugged, muttering congratulations into each other’s ears and beaming beneath the mask when they pulled away to face the flags.

The tears flowed freely for Y/n, the weight of the medal and the sound of the National anthem a reminder that she wasn’t dreaming. She was standing on top of the podium. The gold medalist of the Olympic All-Around.

A dream nearly 20 years in the making since she first watched the Games in Athens at age 8.

In the post-ceremony interview, Y/n was emotional again when the NBC correspondent for the All-Around final showed her the reaction of her loved ones at home. When Bob fell to his knees she had to cover her mouth. “I wish they were here,” she choked, “Ugh it sucks not having them but I love that they were able to watch from home. They are the reason I’m standing here and get to call myself an Olympic champion. It’s their support that’s fueled me the last couple years.”

The reporter gave a sympathetic look, “We actually have a team there with them right now. We’re patching them through right now.”

“Oh my God, really?” Y/n gasped before sobbing when the image on the screen appeared to show her friends and family. They all hollered and cheered, waving frantically at the camera. The gymnast sobbed, waving to the camera, “Oh my God! Mom, dad—Oh Bobby!”

“Oh honey,” he sniffed, the camera focusing on him. “I’m so so proud of you. We’re the moon here—you were so incredible, Y/n. I just can’t put into words how happy I am for you. I love you so much, baby—I can’t say that enough.”

“I love you too! I miss you so much, Bobby. Thank you for being rock and helping everyday in and out of the gym. This gold medal is for you.”

Her parents move to the front. “Sweetheart, your mom and I—I don’t think she can really talk right now,” Y/n laughed at her dad, seeing her mom was still a mess. “We just want to say that we love you so much. You’ve inspired us since you were a little girl and it’s an honor to be your parents.” He had to pause, getting worked up, “We’re so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. I know that you’ve got plans after this and just know we’re going to support you every step of the way.”

Y/n said words of thanks and love to her parents before thanking everyone who showed up to support her. After the call ended the reporter had one last question, “Y/n, you have one last event coming up, the uneven bars final. You’re no doubt the favorite to win—people want to see you make history one last time by becoming the first gymnast from any nation ever to win the title three times in a row. Now you said back in 2016 that whether or not you made this team you’d be retiring. That floor performance tonight definitely felt like a farewell to the sport.” Y/n was slowly nodding with each word, confirming the suspicion. The reporter finally asks, “Once you’ve taken your final step onto the mat Sunday night, will that be the last we see of Y/n L/n in the women’s gymnastics?”

Letting out a shaky breath, feeling the emotion swirl in her chest, Y/n replies, “I am fortunate to say that I have been a part of team USA since I debuted at 15 for my first World’s. Ten years with seven World championships and three Olympic Games—each time coming home with a title, not a lot of people can say that. It’s been an extreme honor……..I crap I knew this was going to be hard,” her vision blurs, “Two years ago I was on the verge of retirement and then got my second chance. I will forever be grateful that I got it and achieved this goal I set out to do after London. It’s been a hard decision, but it’s the right decision so to answer your question, yes Sunday night will be my last routine in gymnastics. I love this sport, I love what it has given me. I have so much love and appreciation for those who have supported me this past decade including my coaches, friends, family, and former teammates. It’s hard to say goodbye, but all great things must come to an end. And I hope to end on a golden note Sunday night, but if that doesn’t happen I’m okay with that. I’m just truly happy—t-that's the best way to put it all into one word. Happy.”

The last gymnast to step on the mat in the uneven bars final, Y/n saluted the judge, did her ritual one final time, and let the bars take her high in the sky. Just like on floor, it wasn’t about the medal. It wasn’t about being the greatest bars gymnast to ever exist.

It was about having fun. It was about that little girl who tumbled on the mat and swung on the bars with a smile on her face. Remembering the love that grew from every minute she was in class and how it made her feel free.

Once again tears coated Y/n’s eyes when she landed the dismount, saluting the judge one last time to the roar of applause of those around her. Mike fell to his knees, Y/n glancing up to the ceiling muttering, ‘Thank you,’ to whoever stood above.

Deep down, she knew.

The night the NBC live coverage reported, “It was a golden farewell for Y/n L/n-Floyd of the United States. The Queen of the Uneven Bars received a groundbreaking score of 17.045 in tonight’s women’s uneven bars final, making her the first gymnast in history from any nation to win the gold medal in its individual event final three consecutive Olympics—L/n-Floyd adding a third medal to her Tokyo collection, her second gold after making history Thursday night with other American gymnast Suni Lee by becoming co-Olympic Champions of the women’s All-Around. Tonight marked Y/n’s eighth Olympic gold medal, her ninth total—she now holds the record of most gold medals won by an American gymnast in the Olympics, as well as the title of most decorated Olympic gymnast in the history of Team USA—overtaking that of Shannon Miller’s seven total medals. The captain of this Tokyo team, Y/n L/n-Floyd has announced her retirement from gymnastics following these Olympic Games. It truly is a sad day for the sport to say goodbye to one of the greatest athletes it’s ever produced, but fear not, tonight was not the last we will see of Y/n in Tokyo. She’s been selected by the members of Team USA to hold the American flag in next Sunday’s closing ceremonies, and if my sources are correct there’s already talk of Y/n being a future inductee of the Olympic Hall of Fame. Until then, on behalf of America and those of us in the studio we’d like to congratulate Y/n L/n-Floyd on an magnificent career, representing Team USA for more than a decade in several international stages, and wish her luck on her future endeavors. Thank you.” As the camera panned away from the broadcaster, the Olympic Fanfare & Theme by John Williams sounded while footage highlights of Y/n’s Olympic career played before the viewers. London. Rio. Tokyo.

Bob met her at the airport, sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in circles to the joy of her laughter. When he sat her down he held her in his arms for several minutes pressing little kisses all over her face, “I am so so proud of you. I love you so so much��,” he said between each kiss.

“I love you too,” she kissed him back before taking her ring from around his neck. Bob grabbed it from her, securing it on her finger before gently kissing the knuckle beneath it. “So I was thinking,” her arms went around his neck, running her fingers along the hair at the nape. “Even though my journey as an athlete has ended……maybe it could be the start of someone else’s?”

Bob looked confused at first, but then slowly his eyes widened, “Are…are you saying you want to…have a baby?” Y/n nodded, eyes glossy as she replied, “if that’s something you’d want. You’re the best husband a girl could ask for, and I know you’d be an amazing father, Bobby.”

Instead of answering, Bob kissed her, pouring every ounce of love from his soul into it. “Yes,” he broke the kiss only to give her another. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I would love nothing more than to raise children with you, Y/n. Let’s do it.” A squeal left her as he dragged her to the car on a mission. “Let’s start as soon as we get home.”

Y/n’s life was one that could be written in the history books. And though she no longer stepped on the mat as a competitor, a new chapter had opened after Tokyo. One with her legacy continuing many years after her debut.

Stepping on the mat as both coach and mother to her not only her sister-in law who strived to be like her idol, but her own little girl who loved to fly high on the bars.

………………………..

Tag list (& those who commented on P.1): @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

A few years ago, during one of California’s steadily worsening wildfire seasons, Nat Friedman’s family home burned down. A few months after that, Friedman was in Covid-19 lockdown in the Bay Area, both freaked out and bored. Like many a middle-aged dad, he turned for healing and guidance to ancient Rome. While some of us were watching Tiger King and playing with our kids’ Legos, he read books about the empire and helped his daughter make paper models of Roman villas. Instead of sourdough, he learned to bake Panis Quadratus, a Roman loaf pictured in some of the frescoes found in Pompeii. During sleepless pandemic nights, he spent hours trawling the internet for more Rome stuff. That’s how he arrived at the Herculaneum papyri, a fork in the road that led him toward further obsession. He recalls exclaiming: “How the hell has no one ever told me about this?”

The Herculaneum papyri are a collection of scrolls whose status among classicists approaches the mythical. The scrolls were buried inside an Italian countryside villa by the same volcanic eruption in 79 A.D. that froze Pompeii in time. To date, only about 800 have been recovered from the small portion of the villa that’s been excavated. But it’s thought that the villa, which historians believe belonged to Julius Caesar’s prosperous father-in-law, had a huge library that could contain thousands or even tens of thousands more. Such a haul would represent the largest collection of ancient texts ever discovered, and the conventional wisdom among scholars is that it would multiply our supply of ancient Greek and Roman poetry, plays and philosophy by manyfold. High on their wish lists are works by the likes of Aeschylus, Sappho and Sophocles, but some say it’s easy to imagine fresh revelations about the earliest years of Christianity.

“Some of these texts could completely rewrite the history of key periods of the ancient world,” says Robert Fowler, a classicist and the chair of the Herculaneum Society, a charity that tries to raise awareness of the scrolls and the villa site. “This is the society from which the modern Western world is descended.”

The reason we don’t know exactly what’s in the Herculaneum papyri is, y’know, volcano. The scrolls were preserved by the voluminous amount of superhot mud and debris that surrounded them, but the knock-on effects of Mount Vesuvius charred them beyond recognition. The ones that have been excavated look like leftover logs in a doused campfire. People have spent hundreds of years trying to unroll them—sometimes carefully, sometimes not. And the scrolls are brittle. Even the most meticulous attempts at unrolling have tended to end badly, with them crumbling into ashy pieces.

In recent years, efforts have been made to create high-resolution, 3D scans of the scrolls’ interiors, the idea being to unspool them virtually. This work, though, has often been more tantalizing than revelatory. Scholars have been able to glimpse only snippets of the scrolls’ innards and hints of ink on the papyrus. Some experts have sworn they could see letters in the scans, but consensus proved elusive, and scanning the entire cache is logistically difficult and prohibitively expensive for all but the deepest-pocketed patrons. Anything on the order of words or paragraphs has long remained a mystery.

But Friedman wasn’t your average Rome-loving dad. He was the chief executive officer of GitHub Inc., the massive software development platform that Microsoft Corp. acquired in 2018. Within GitHub, Friedman had been developing one of the first coding assistants powered by artificial intelligence, and he’d seen the rising power of AI firsthand. He had a hunch that AI algorithms might be able to find patterns in the scroll images that humans had missed.

After studying the problem for some time and ingratiating himself with the classics community, Friedman, who’s left GitHub to become an AI-focused investor, decided to start a contest. Last year he launched the Vesuvius Challenge, offering $1 million in prizes to people who could develop AI software capable of reading four passages from a single scroll. “Maybe there was obvious stuff no one had tried,” he recalls thinking. “My life has validated this notion again and again.”

As the months ticked by, it became clear that Friedman’s hunch was a good one. Contestants from around the world, many of them twentysomethings with computer science backgrounds, developed new techniques for taking the 3D scans and flattening them into more readable sheets. Some appeared to find letters, then words. They swapped messages about their work and progress on a Discord chat, as the often much older classicists sometimes looked on in hopeful awe and sometimes slagged off the amateur historians.

On Feb. 5, Friedman and his academic partner Brent Seales, a computer science professor and scroll expert, plan to reveal that a group of contestants has delivered transcriptions of many more than four passages from one of the scrolls. While it’s early to draw any sweeping conclusions from this bit of work, Friedman says he’s confident that the same techniques will deliver far more of the scrolls’ contents. “My goal,” he says, “is to unlock all of them.”

Before Mount Vesuvius erupted, the town of Herculaneum sat at the edge of the Gulf of Naples, the sort of getaway wealthy Romans used to relax and think. Unlike Pompeii, which took a direct hit from the Vesuvian lava flow, Herculaneum was buried gradually by waves of ash, pumice and gases. Although the process was anything but gentle, most inhabitants had time to escape, and much of the town was left intact under the hardening igneous rock. Farmers first rediscovered the town in the 18th century, when some well-diggers found marble statues in the ground. In 1750 one of them collided with the marble floor of the villa thought to belong to Caesar’s father-in-law, Senator Lucius Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus, known to historians today as Piso.

During this time, the first excavators who dug tunnels into the villa to map it were mostly after more obviously valuable artifacts, like the statues, paintings and recognizable household objects. Initially, people who ran across the scrolls, some of which were scattered across the colorful floor mosaics, thought they were just logs and threw them on a fire. Eventually, though, somebody noticed the logs were often found in what appeared to be libraries or reading rooms, and realized they were burnt papyrus. Anyone who tried to open one, however, found it crumbling in their hands.

Terrible things happened to the scrolls in the many decades that followed. The scientif-ish attempts to loosen the pages included pouring mercury on them (don’t do that) and wafting a combination of gases over them (ditto). Some of the scrolls have been sliced in half, scooped out and generally abused in ways that still make historians weep. The person who came the closest in this period was Antonio Piaggio, a priest. In the late 1700s he built a wooden rack that pulled silken threads attached to the edge of the scrolls and could be adjusted with a simple mechanism to unfurl the document ever so gently, at a rate of 1 inch per day. Improbably, it sort of worked; the contraption opened some scrolls, though it tended to damage them or outright tear them into pieces. In later centuries, teams organized by other European powers, including one assembled by Napoleon, pieced together torn bits of mostly illegible text here and there.

Today the villa remains mostly buried, unexcavated and off-limits even to the experts. Most of what’s been found there and proven legible has been attributed to Philodemus, an Epicurean philosopher and poet, leading historians to hope there’s a much bigger main library buried elsewhere on-site. A wealthy, educated man like Piso would have had the classics of the day along with more modern works of history, law and philosophy, the thinking goes. “I do believe there’s a much bigger library there,” says Richard Janko, a University of Michigan classical studies professor who’s spent painstaking hours assembling scroll fragments by hand, like a jigsaw puzzle. “I see no reason to think it should not still be there and preserved in the same way.” Even an ordinary citizen from that time could have collections of tens of thousands of scrolls, Janko says. Piso is known to have corresponded often with the Roman statesman Cicero, and the apostle Paul had passed through the region a couple of decades before Vesuvius erupted. There could be writings tied to his visit that comment on Jesus and Christianity. “We have about 800 scrolls from the villa today,” Janko says. “There could be thousands or tens of thousands more.”

In the modern era, the great pioneer of the scrolls is Brent Seales, a computer science professor at the University of Kentucky. For the past 20 years he’s used advanced medical imaging technology designed for CT scans and ultrasounds to analyze unreadable old texts. For most of that time he’s made the Herculaneum papyri his primary quest. “I had to,” he says. “No one else was working on it, and no one really thought it was even possible.”

Progress was slow. Seales built software that could theoretically take the scans of a coiled scroll and unroll it virtually, but it wasn’t prepared to handle a real Herculaneum scroll when he put it to the test in 2009. “The complexity of what we saw broke all of my software,” he says. “The layers inside the scroll were not uniform. They were all tangled and mashed together, and my software could not follow them reliably.”

By 2016 he and his students had managed to read the Ein Gedi scroll, a charred ancient Hebrew text, by programming their specialized software to detect changes in density between the burnt manuscript and the burnt ink layered onto it. The software made the letters light up against a darker background. Seales’ team had high hopes to apply this technique to the Herculaneum papyri, but those were written with a different, carbon-based ink that their imaging gear couldn’t illuminate in the same way.

Over the past few years, Seales has begun experimenting with AI. He and his team have scanned the scrolls with more powerful imaging machines, examined portions of the papyrus where ink was visible and trained algorithms on what those patterns looked like. The hope was that the AI would start picking up on details that the human eye missed and could apply what it learned to more obfuscated scroll chunks. This approach proved fruitful, though it remained a battle of inches. Seales’ technology uncovered bits and pieces of the scrolls, but they were mostly unreadable. He needed another breakthrough.

Friedman set up Google alerts for Seales and the papyri in 2020, while still early in his Rome obsession. After a year passed with no news, he started watching YouTube videos of Seales discussing the underlying challenges. Among other things, he needed money. By 2022, Friedman was convinced he could help. He invited Seales out to California for an event where Silicon Valley types get together and share big ideas. Seales gave a short presentation on the scrolls to the group, but no one bit. “I felt very, very guilty about this and embarrassed because he’d come out to California, and California had failed him,” Friedman says.

On a whim, Friedman proposed the idea of a contest to Seales. He said he’d put up some of his own money to fund it, and his investing partner Daniel Gross offered to match it.

Seales says he was mindful of the trade-offs. The Herculaneum papyri had turned into his life’s work, and he wanted to be the one to decode them. More than a few of his students had also poured time and energy into the project and planned to publish papers about their efforts. Now, suddenly, a couple of rich guys from Silicon Valley were barging into their territory and suggesting that internet randos could deliver the breakthroughs that had eluded the experts.

More than glory, though, Seales really just hoped the scrolls would be read, and he agreed to hear Friedman out and help design the AI contest. They kicked off the Vesuvius Challenge last year on the Ides of March. Friedman announced the contest on the platform we fondly remember as Twitter, and many of his tech friends agreed to pledge their money toward the effort while a cohort of budding papyrologists began to dig into the task at hand. After a couple of days, Friedman had amassed enough money to offer $1 million in prizes, along with some extra money to throw at some of the more time-intensive basics.

Friedman hired people online to gather the existing scroll imagery, catalog it and create software tools that made it easier to chop the scrolls into segments and to flatten the images out into something that was readable on a computer screen. After finding a handful of people who were particularly good at this, he made them full members of his scroll contest team, paying them $40 an hour. His hobby was turning into a lifestyle.

The initial splash of attention helped open new doors. Seales had lobbied Italian and British collectors for years to scan his first scrolls. Suddenly the Italians were now offering up two new scrolls for scanning to provide more AI training data. With Friedman’s backing, a team set to work building precision-fitting, 3D-printed cases to protect the new scrolls on their private jet flight from Italy to a particle accelerator in England. There they were scanned for three days straight at a cost of about $70,000.

Seeing the imaging process in action drives home both the magic and difficulty inherent in this quest. One of the scroll remnants placed in the scanner, for example, wasn’t much bigger than a fat finger. It was peppered by high-energy X-rays, much like a human going through a CT scan, except the resulting images were delivered in extremely high resolution. (For the real nerds: about 8 micrometers.) These images were virtually carved into a mass of tiny slices too numerous for a person to count. Along each slice, the scanner picked up infinitesimal changes in density and thickness. Software was then used to unroll and flatten out the slices, and the resulting images looked recognizably like sheets of papyrus, the writing on them hidden.

The files generated by this process are so large and difficult to deal with on a regular computer that Friedman couldn’t throw a whole scroll at most would-be contest winners. To be eligible for the $700,000 grand prize, contestants would have until the end of 2023 to read just four passages of at least 140 characters of contiguous text. Along the way, smaller prizes ranging from $1,000 to $100,000 would be awarded for various milestones, such as the first to read letters in a scroll or to build software tools capable of smoothing the image processing. With a nod to his open-source roots, Friedman insisted these prizes could be won only if the contestants agreed to show the world how they did it.

Luke Farritor was hooked from the start. Farritor—a bouncy 22-year-old Nebraskan undergraduate who often exclaims, “Oh, my goodness!”—heard Friedman describe the contest on a podcast in March. “I think there’s a 50% chance that someone will encounter this opportunity, get the data and get nerd-sniped by it, and we’ll solve it this year,” Friedman said on the show. Farritor thought, “That could be me.”

The early months were a slog of splotchy images. Then Casey Handmer, an Australian mathematician, physicist and polymath, scored a point for humankind by beating the computers to the first major breakthrough. Handmer took a few stabs at writing scroll-reading code, but he soon concluded he might have better luck if he just stared at the images for a really long time. Eventually he began to notice what he and the other contestants have come to call “crackle,” a faint pattern of cracks and lines on the page that resembles what you might see in the mud of a dried-out lakebed. To Handmer’s eyes, the crackle seemed to have the shape of Greek letters and the blobs and strokes that accompany handwritten ink. He says he believes it to be dried-out ink that’s lifted up from the surface of the page.

The crackle discovery led Handmer to try identifying clips of letters in one scroll image. In the spirit of the contest, he posted his findings to the Vesuvius Challenge’s Discord channel in June. At the time, Farritor was a summer intern at SpaceX. He was in the break room sipping a Diet Coke when he saw the post, and his initial disbelief didn’t last long. Over the next month he began hunting for crackle in the other image files: one letter here, another couple there. Most of the letters were invisible to the human eye, but 1% or 2% had the crackle. Armed with those few letters, he trained a model to recognize hidden ink, revealing a few more letters. Then Farritor added those letters to the model’s training data and ran it again and again and again. The model starts with something only a human can see—the crackle pattern—then learns to see ink we can’t.

Unlike today’s large-language AI models, which gobble up data, Farritor’s model was able to get by with crumbs. For each 64-pixel-by-64-pixel square of the image, it was merely asking, is there ink here or not? And it helped that the output was known: Greek letters, squared along the right angles of the cross-hatched papyrus fibers.

In early August, Farritor received an opportunity to put his software to the test. He’d returned to Nebraska to finish out the summer and found himself at a house party with friends when a new, crackle-rich image popped up in the contest’s Discord channel. As the people around him danced and drank, Farritor hopped on his phone, connected remotely to his dorm computer, threw the image into his machine-learning system, then put his phone away. “An hour later, I drive all my drunk friends home, and then I’m walking out of the parking garage, and I take my phone out not expecting to see anything,” he says. “But when I open it up, there’s three Greek letters on the screen.”

Around 2 a.m., Farritor texted his mom and then Friedman and the other contestants about what he’d found, fighting back tears of joy. “That was the moment where I was like, ‘Oh, my goodness, this is actually going to work. We’re going to read the scrolls.’”

Soon enough, Farritor found 10 letters and won $40,000 for one of the contest’s progress prizes. The classicists reviewed his work and said he’d found the Greek word for “purple.”

Farritor continued to train his machine-learning model on crackle data and to post his progress on Discord and Twitter. The discoveries he and Handmer made also set off a new wave of enthusiasm among contestants, and some began to employ similar techniques. In the latter part of 2023, Farritor formed an alliance with two other contestants, Youssef Nader and Julian Schilliger, in which they agreed to combine their technology and share any prize money.

In the end, the Vesuvius Challenge received 18 entries for its grand prize. Some submissions were ho-hum, but a handful showed that Friedman’s gamble had paid off. The scroll images that were once ambiguous blobs now had entire paragraphs of letters lighting up across them. The AI systems had brought the past to life. “It’s a situation that you practically never encounter as a classicist,” says Tobias Reinhardt, a professor of ancient philosophy and Latin literature at the University of Oxford. “You mostly look at texts that have been looked at by someone before. The idea that you are reading a text that was last unrolled on someone’s desk 1,900 years ago is unbelievable.”

A group of classicists reviewed all the entries and did, in fact, deem Farritor’s team the winners. They were able to stitch together more than a dozen columns of text with entire paragraphs all over their entry. Still translating, the scholars believe the text to be another work by Philodemus, one centered on the pleasures of music and food and their effects on the senses. “Peering at and beginning to transcribe the first reasonably legible scans of this brand-new ancient book was an extraordinarily emotional experience,” says Janko, one of the reviewers. While these passages aren’t particularly revelatory about ancient Rome, most classics scholars have their hopes for what might be next.

There’s a chance that the villa is tapped out—that there are no more libraries of thousands of scrolls waiting to be discovered—or that the rest have nothing mind-blowing to offer. Then again, there’s the chance they contain valuable lessons for the modern world.

That world, of course, includes Ercolano, the modern town of about 50,000 built on top of ancient Herculaneum. More than a few residents own property and buildings atop the villa site. “They would have to kick people out of Ercolano and destroy everything to uncover the ancient city,” says Federica Nicolardi, a papyrologist at the University of Naples Federico II.

Barring a mass relocation, Friedman is working to refine what he’s got. There’s plenty left to do; the first contest yielded about 5% of one scroll. A new set of contestants, he says, might be able to reach 85%. He also wants to fund the creation of more automated systems that can speed the processes of scanning and digital smoothing. He’s now one of the few living souls who’s roamed the villa tunnels, and he says he’s also contemplating buying scanners that can be placed right at the villa and used in parallel to scan tons of scrolls per day. “Even if there’s just one dialogue of Aristotle or a beautiful lost Homeric poem or a dispatch from a Roman general about this Jesus Christ guy who’s roaming around,” he says, “all you need is one of those for the whole thing to be more than worth it.”

[siremasterlawrence]

Chris The Live In Assistant

I swear to God! I saw this man sitting across the street at a cafe looking quite handsome in that dapper blue sweater, mostly tight yet comfortable pair of jeans snugging up to his massive muscle body covering up that hot body. I just arrived to California enjoying the lovely day as I spot him where my mind goes in to a hazy over drive thinking ways of claiming him as mine, apparently my team watches me from the side taking a lick of him from behind the bushes then quickly following him all through the town.Someone behind him sneaking up upon him with syringe blocking him as he grabs him by his neck holding him back, lifting him up to face me struggling to yank him to the side as he removes him hand from his mouth and lets him go.

The man taking firm hold on him using the syringe to shoot a squirt in the are before he injects it diving it in his neck plunging the needle in even deeper then I can ever imagine and his eyes begin to flutter back in to his skull as his eyes roll back in to his socket, body falls heavy like stone in to his arms. The man laughs picking him up as he lifts him on to his shoulder as they walking past the alley way to the end throwing him in to a van as they seal him in continuing to drive off and they head on to the highway going to the edge of the nearest side street on to the main side way racing down a lonely road to a far off side area to a beautiful cabin in the midst of the woods driving in to the area of no return. The car stops as one leaves the van landing on to the ground walking to the back of the van as Chris tense, fearful and carefully he is listening to foot steps unable to move or fight back knowing full well he may never escape or see the light of day again and forced to be used as some sick twisted like persons toy.

They pop the back doors to the side reaching for his legs they release him from his steels bonds, cutting the rope off is his body allowing him a chance to squirm all through the van to no fail because he will be mine no matter what and they slid him to the grounds. They carry him in to the back of the cabin one hand on him the other in his pocket as the keys are rummaged past his pocket in to the key hole; the door unlocks as he is set on the laboratory table like prime meat strapped down.The two men slammed the door closed to his old life forever with all the regrets of the world weighing on him when the switch is flipped the lights go off flicking on and off catching his attention and his world vanish in a blink of a eyes he lay unconscious strip totally naked.

“Wakey Wakey! Eggs and bakey”

“Uuuggghhh! Where is Master Lawrence?”

“Who is he?”

“You bastards “

“Shut up bitch!”

“He is in the other room”

“Let me see him”

“Can’t do it?”

“Why not?”

“Look in the mirror fool”

“Oh My God!”

“Yes! Figured it out huh?”

“I am not presentable”

“Wait for me in the bathroom”

“Yes sir”

“Such a lame ass pussy “

Five minutes later”

“Look at you ! Master will be impressed “

“I hope he loves me”

“Master Lawrence “

“Are you the guy …”

“They caught me”

“Who did this?”

“Your team”

“They fixed me”

“All I think about is you “

“What do you want?”

“You silly “

“Claim me please “

“Do you remember your old life?”

“This is my life “

“Yeah babe”

“I only knew this “

“You are my home”

“I am your assistant now and forever “

“Good boi !

The end

Sebastian The Guard Dog

hris is left in a stupor at my recent bought of happiness when I saw this guy sitting in the park so close to me with this unusually gorgeous face with such distinctive features to boot I had to have him. Chris of course supremely aware of my new found desire for this man who I am falling for very fast because I am madly in love with him at all cost and he soon learns his place next to me. Slave Christopher Robert Evans AKA Chris has been by my side for the longest time since the beginning of my journey in to super stardom and he spun about to face his worst enemy.

Poor Sebastian at the dawn of the day gets up waking up eyes staring above him as he sweats from the weirdest dream in his own personal collective memory nothing else could compare and finally relenting I can hear him grown loudly.He sighs swooping his arms round his body in a wave of heat he kicks off his sheets to the side standing up he stumbles to the bed room window digging his hands under the windowsill and propels it up letting cool air take a effect.Something is different as the air swirls past it all cooling him along with the room down as he knelt a bit leaning his head through the window a certain smell is automatically triggering him on instinct his attention hits a new high.

The smell overpowering him as his eye shut close leaving him to flip forward through the window onto the ground, his mind takes full control as if on autopilot he starts to walk mindlessly to a new location not of his will or choice.No longer allowed volition Seb watches his body follow a path in to the windows a sea of darkness covers him while his feet do the walking and he subjected the horrific image of someone else in the pilot seat that he will one day reclaim. Foolish thoughts permeates throughout his mind at unknown levels of speed he loses all sense of time walking for hours from one or more woodland road do another, his clothes seem to unravel string by string to hit the point.

“Woah! What where am I?”

“You made it…shit”

“Who are you ?”

“You are naked “

“You think I want to be”

“Don’t care “

“Put these on”

“Why?”

“You can’t meet him this indisposed “

“Him? Stop these games “

“Or what punk?”

“I’ll beat your tired ass”

“Fuck this “

“You are scared”

“No!”

“You are scared of me”

“Take me to him”

“Force me bitch”

“Follow me and don’t speak “

“Master is waiting “

“I can’t wait, I naturally desire him”

“Will you serve him?”

“With my life “

“I love him”

“You cannot have him”

“I am his assistant “

“Fucker “

“I am his bodyguard “

“You can’t take my place “

“I don’t need to because I am intimate with him on a whole new level”

The end

[eternal-echoes]

“In designing his stupendous structure, the Gothic architect was thus profoundly influenced by Catholic thought. "As the worshippers' eyes rose toward heaven," writes a modern student of the subject, "God's grace, in the form of sunlight, was imagined to stream down in benediction, encouraging exaltation. Sinners could be led to repent and strive for perfection by envisioning the world of spiritual perfection where God resided—a world suggested by the geometric regularity of cathedrals."1 Indeed, everything about the Gothic cathedral revealed its supernatural inspiration. "While the predominantly horizontal lines of Greco-Roman temples symbolized a nature-bound religious experience," writes one scholar, "Gothic spires symbolized the upward reach of a distinctly supernatural vision."2 These great structures also convey to us something of the age in which they were conceived and built. No period of history that could have produced such magnificent works of architecture could have been utterly stagnant or dark, as the entirety of the Middle Ages has all too often been portrayed. The light that streamed into the Gothic cathedral symbolized the light of the thirteenth century, an age characterized as much by its universities, learning, and scholarship as by the religious fervor and heroism of Saint Francis of Assisi.”

- Thomas E. Woods Jr., Ph.D., “Art, Architecture, and the Church,” How the Catholic Church Built Western Civilization

—

1. Robert A. Scott, The Gothic Enterprise (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003), 132.

2. Stanley L. Jaki, "Medieval Creativity in Science and Technology." in Patterns or Principles and Other Essays (Bryn Mawr, Pa.: Intercollegiate Studies Institute, 1995), 75.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Women's march

* * * *

Harris and Walz shift the vibe!

August 19, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

As we look ahead with hope and anticipation to the Democratic National Convention, the Harris-Walz campaign continues to surprise everyone with its effectiveness and nimbleness. On Sunday, Kamala Harris and Tim Walz took a bus tour through Pennsylvania—a complete “vibe-shift” from the enthusiastic crowds at packed stadiums that fueled the campaign over the last four weeks.

The bus tour was terrific! It highlighted Kamala and Tim in “normal” situations that voters can relate to—buying chips (Doritos) in a convenience store, talking to a high school football team, and chatting up the employees at a restaurant. Both joined a local field office’s phone-banking efforts! Kamala Harris even petted a firehouse dog after delivering pastries to the firefighters! (Can you imagine Trump petting a dog?)

There is no way in the world that Trump or JD Vance could have negotiated those situations with anything other than awkward stiffness as they pretended to know how to talk to everyday Americans in normal situations. Both Trump and JD Vance are stuck behind podiums with dwindling or non-existent crowds, while Kamala and Tim turned the “small group” interaction into a show of strength and normalcy.

That is a feat that Trump and Vance cannot replicate. The GOP nominees are comfortable among billionaires and sycophants but not among people who are feeling the pain of Trump’s tax cuts for billionaires, assault on personal liberties, and culture wars.

Harris also asked reporters questions at various stops on the tour. Those reporters—perhaps local reporters(?)—asked the Vice President substantive questions about her economic proposals released last week. No notes, no teleprompters, no “hand-picked” reporters who are afraid of Kamala Harris. Her answers were “okay” to “good”, but they were orders of magnitude better than Trump's meandering words-salads. She answered the questions head-on; not everyone accepted her responses, but that’s politics! Kamala Harris is speaking to voters, not to pundits.

While dwelling on Trump is becoming tedious, he made things worse for himself and JD Vance on Saturday with another unhinged speech that focused on pettiness, grievance, and hate. In the speech, he criticized Kamala Harris for her laugh, dating history, and “looks” before stooping to call her a “communist.” See Trump zigzags between economic remarks and personal insults at rally in critical Pennsylvania. In a sign of supreme insecurity, Trump repeatedly said that he was “better looking than Kamala.” Geez! What kind of person does that?

And then Trump proceeded to have an epic meltdown on social media on Sunday, posting at least fifty-two (52) times, with each post worse, more offensive, and delusional than the last. Trump posted fake “photos” of “Swifties for Trump”, and posted doctored photos of Kamala Harris holding a sign that said, “I am a moron.”

Below is one of Trump's most unhinged posts

Again, apologies for repeating Trump's post, but it is important to understand what the media is not reporting about Trump's descent into madness. At the very least, let your eyes graze over the Unabomber-esque quality of the prose:

We had to turn away lots of people yesterday in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, but Comrade Kamala Harris’ Social Media Operation showed empty seats, long before the Rally started, early in the afternoon when, in actuality, we had to turn away 11,500 people! She’s a Crooked Radical Left Politician, and always will be! Everything she touches turns bad, just like California, and San Francisco before it - as is the case with all Marxists. She should have never been Vice President, and had to stage a COUP of Joe Biden, with her America-hating friends, Barrack Hussein Obama, Crazy Nancy Pelosi, Cryin’ Chuck Schumer, and the rest. Comrade Kamala is a STONE COLD LOSER, she will FAIL and, if she doesn’t, our Country will cease to exist as we know it, turning into a Communist, Crime Ridden Garbage Dump.

As Trump is off message in the worst possible way, Democrats are heading into their convention more united than ever. Are there potential problems? Of course! Protests over Gaza will give the media a counter-narrative to dampen the enthusiasm that will greet President Joe Biden, First Lady Jill Biden, former presidents Obama and Clinton, Secretary of State Clinton, and Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff. Then, the main event will be Tim Walz and Kamala Harris.

The convention will be historic. It will serve three purposes:

It will lift and inspire a formerly weary base who can finally celebrate with a sense of confidence and optimism.

It will help unify Democratic messaging—finally!

It will extend the period of enthusiasm that has propelled the campaign thus far.

If the unprecedented enthusiasm continues into September or October, it will solidify the momentum that Kamala Harris is building among the electorate.

Joe Biden’s speech alone is reason enough to hold a convention that has already elected Kamala Harris as the Democratic nominee. It should be Biden’s finest hour in his half-century of public service.

I resolve to not allow the media’s desire to deflate Democratic enthusiasm to interfere with my enjoyment and appreciation of a historic moment.

And a special note to readers who will be attending the convention: I would love to hear from you about what it is like to be “in the room where it happens.” With your permission (and not for attribution), I will share comments with other newsletter readers who are not at the convention. Feel free to post in the Comment section or email me at rbhubbell@gmail.com.

Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter

[darkmaga-retard]

Immigrant-invader Gangs Busy at Work “liberating” Colorado Apartment Houses

Paul Craig Roberts

Dear Americans, you desperately need to WAKE UP. You are losing your country and your liberty and your property by the minute, and almost half of you are about to vote to keep in power the Democrats who are destroying you.

In Colorado heavily armed immigrant-invader gangs are taking over apartment buildings. Possession being nine-tenths of the law, the gangs have run off the management and now collect the rents. The local city council cannot get the woke dumbshit Democrat governor to even acknowledge the fact. The woke mnoron tells them that “it is a figment of your imagination.”

This is the standard woke response to reality. It can’t be real, because it doesn’t fit our narrative.

The same thing is happening in Chicago and other blue areas. The pro-immigrant-invader, anti-white American Democrat regime declines to protect American citizens. The Democrat Party sees white American citizens as the oppressors, not as victims.

This report is not from the alternative media. It is from Fox News. Remember, Fox News fired their greatest profit maker of all times–Tucker Carlson–because he told too much truth. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhDQVwwnHIE

Soon what is happening in Colorado, California, New York, Chicago and other blue states will be happening in red states. This is the reason that the Democrats have organized and financed the importation of a minimum of 3.6 million per year of immigrant-invaders, many being males of military age, into the US and are dumping them into red states. It is the reason that the Democrats refuse to protect our border.

[supersonicart]

John Moyers & Terri Kelly Moyers' "Echoes of the Past."

Currently on view at Maxwell Alexander Gallery in Los Angeles, California is John Moyers & Terri Kelly Moyers' exhibition, "Echoes of the Past."

A chance meeting at a Robert Lougheed workshop in British Columbia brought this couple together, but their love for art, travel, and painting outdoors has kept not only their love story alive, but their artist visions ever changing.  It's worth noting that just in the last month, Terri Kelly Moyers was awarded the Artist Choice Award at the Autry's Masters of the American West and John Moyers was given the Artist Excellence Award at the 2023 Booth Western Art Museum's annual Gala.  Between the two, they've won every possible award there is - from the Prix de West Purchase Award to the Autry Masters purchase award, and everything in between.  

It is always a pleasure when you come across artists in their prime.  In collecting contemporary artists it can sometimes be difficult to pinpoint those periods, but when looking at the new body of work created by the Moyers' it is no question that that time is now. 

John's fully formed vision of mixing abstract elements within hard painted edges jumps off the canvas in images like "Appeal to the Spirts," the artist's largest painting in the show.  The painting features a multifigure scene of Northern New Mexican Natives during a ceremony.  At first glance it feels like a warm representational painting of the past -- but at further inspection it is a total master class in abstraction and composition that very few can achieve so well.  Get close to this painting and you will experience thick application of paint mixed with highlights in just the right areas, masterful application of value and reflective light.  It is without a doubt a museum quality painting.�� 

Terri Kelly's painting "Song and Prayer" shows a colder climate scene with masterfully painted hills and landscape that allows the viewer to feel the warmth hitting the central figure.  Historical elements are always paid close attention to in Moyers' paintings.  The knowledge and interest in the people she paints comes through her masterful paint strokes, leaving detail out where it is not needed, and rendering other elements to lead the viewer's eye.  The composition is laid out like a perfect road map leading you into the scene and allowing the viewer to feel the vastness of nature.  You are left imagining the sounds of the song and prayer on this crisp fall day.  

THE SUPERSONIC ART SHOP | FOLLOW ON INSTAGRAM

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #24: The Doors

Like every other wishing-he-were-cool Southern California white boy born in the mid-to-late 70's, I had a big Doors phase in 1990. In the year leading up to Oliver Stone's ridiculously silly, TV flinging, film I spent 10 rich months in the following fashion:

First, I copied a friend's father's double CD Door's Greatest Hits collection (the one with Jim Morrison's fabulous pecks on the cover). I was discovering music after comic books and I memorized every glorious moment.

Next, I tracked down the band's four easily accessible full albums via another friend's Costco (or was it still called Price Club at that point?) Nice Price 4 Pack and memorized all of that too, even though I found parts of Waiting For The Sun dull and much of LA Woman sorta gross.

Then, I decided that Not To Touch The Earth was actually their best song and that anyone who only knew the band's greatest hits was a poser.

Next, I enjoyed listening to my father's tall tales about how The Doors had once lived on the strand in Manhattan Beach (my hometown) and were often practicing in their garage when my dad passed by. He also claimed that Morrison had worked for him for one single day as a house painter (my father's trade) but that Jim had been too nuts to keep on the payroll. At other points in my dad's joyful imagination Charles Manson and Ginger Baker had also been on past crews; his lies, which were specifically designed to entertain us, led us to mock and roll our eyes at him when he sincerely claimed that one of his past painters, Robbie Rodgers, actually had gone on to be a relatively successful musician. But then dad scored us tickets and we went to see the dude's Reggae/slasher band, War Called Peace, open for Yellowman; it was totally nuts, and Robbie told us that my dad had changed his life.

After that, I learned of the existence of The Soft Parade and swore to myself that I'd never listen to it. My heroes, horrifyingly, had once SOLD OUT!

Next, I watched Apocalypse Now over and over, daydreaming of the day I'd get my own hands on The End's master tapes and undercover even more of Morrison's Oedipal ranting.

(All the while I had no idea what Oedipal actually meant.)

Throughout it all, I feverishly followed Robert Hilburn's updates in the LA Times on the back and forth on set about whether or not Val Kilmore would sing or lip sync in the upcoming film.

Shortly thereafter, I shook my fist in fury when Billy Idol dared to cover LA Woman. The poser!

That drove me to the library, where I got Riders on the Storm, Jim Densmore's Morrison bio. I read it feverishly, taking mental notes on how I too would one day successfully avoid the draft by demonstrating Morrison-level savvy madness.

Midway through Densmore's self-aggrandizing tome, I bought a copy of Wilderness, Morrison's slim and posthumous published poetry collection, and carried it around with me together with my copy of the Tao Te Ching, convinced that they were the two true holy books. Anyone who thought otherwise I recognized as a poser.

All the while, I spent a lot of time thinking about how Ray Manzarek doubled as the band's bass player and pianist all at the same time on one keyboard. I viewed him as Einstein with a chainsaw.

Somewhere along the way, I sought out an ancient tape copy of a disco sounding album the band made after Jim's death and noted that no one in the band had made meaningful music ever since. And so I grew slightly concerned that maybe my heroes were secretly lame.

But I still stood in line for opening night of the film and smugly mocked everyone else in line with me as a poser. Clearly, none of them knew the secret lyric, edited out, after She Gets! on Break on Through...

And I thought the movie was pretty cool!

Then I proceeded to grow sick of the whole thing - the band and everything about them was suddenly far too mainstream for my superior tastes - and I decided anyone who liked The Doors on any level was a poser. Lou Reed and Bob Dylan were all that mattered.

Then a cool older kid played me Peace Frog and I realized I'd missed a whole album (damn Costco!). So I decided The Doors were cool again for about 15 minutes.

Then, 10 months after the whole thing had started, I moved on for good.

But that's not entirely true. Years and year later, I sang my kids to sleep with The Spy and The Crystal Ship; and I can still can almost recite Morrison's poem about some dude burning leaves. Now that I summon it from the internet and read it again I still think it's pretty great:

A man rakes leaves into

a heap in his yard, a pile,

& leans on his rake &

burns them utterly.

The fragrance fills the forest

children pause & heed the

smell, which will become

nostalgia in several years

But now, I have to ask, how does one even go about listening to The Doors with any objectivity 33 years after they became the world's biggest band for a moment and 50 years after Morrison's death? I mean there's a 15 year old hipster in the high school where I teach who still wears a t-shirt with Morrison on it. I don't know if objectivity can be achieved.

But I'm giving it a shot right now as I write this.

My copy of their debut, self-titled, album is an original print supposedly, and the vinyl sure sounds like it's creeping up on its 60th birthday. Crackling thunder, seemingly borrowed from Riders on the Storm, buzzels and pops throughout. But the whole record sounds great that way, like it too was taken from the Ancient Gallery and WALKED ON DOWN THE HALL!

Fair reader, here's what I think: if I try hard and strip back all the nonsense I know about poor Jim and the band, then I'm left with what is elemental music.

Sure there's some silly stuff to be found: Morrison's lyric "specialize in having fun" from Take It As It Comes is, and always has been, embarrassing, along with basically all the lyrics to Light My Fire. And I don't really know that the organ's drunk circus vibe in Alabama Song holds up.

But listen to Manzarek spill every coin in the band's copious wallet on Take It As It Comes; remember just how cool the wandering guitar intro still is on The End, not to mention the slapping, rippling, pick me up 3/4 of the way through that wandering track; appreciate just how unhinged Morrison's screaming holler is on Back Door Man; ride on the perfect Crystal Ship. And for god's sake, just sit back and listen to Light My Fire.

What if we simply thought of The Doors alongside their actual peers from 66-71: Love, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead? What if we slowed down and remembered that the band did everything they did in under 5 years? What if we remembered, at the same time, just how much Stephen Stills still sucks? And what if we set aside for good just how damn magnetic poor Jim was? What if we just listened to The Doors?

I encourage you to give it a shot. Drop the needle on The Doors debut once a season; ride the King's Highway west; catch all the weird scenes in the goldmine. You too will wish The Doors practiced in a garage down your street.

-------------

Update! After posting this, my famous brother sent me this photo of Morrison. He's actually in Manhattan Beach!

I think my father, who, come to think of it, looked a hell of a lot like Morrison at that point, is just outside the frame, striding away after firing his ass. Rest in peace Jim.

[sunny-mercya]

Casino Blues

01. First Heist

Rusty Ryan x Male Reader | Platonic! Danny Ocean x Brother Reader

Fandom -> Ocean's Trilogy

Masterlist | Previous / Next | Prototype OS

When Danny, after being out of prison, asked Rusty to join him at a Grand Coup of heist—Rusty had only agreed halfway to it. After all, he wanted to know for what exactly they would rob and risking their lives and freedom for.

Especially freedom, because Rusty sure as hell—damned he will be—didn't want to get caught and being send, like Danny, into prison. He simply couldn't afford such ending.

And when Danny told him, they gonna rob—not only one but three—Casinos in good old Viva Las Vegas, Rusty wanted to know a even far more good enough reason for him to join in such madness.

And Danny, like the best friend and charming asshole he is, told Rusty the only valid reason he needs to have;

»If we pull this off and I promise you, we will. You can finally pay the devils debt and free [Name], moving to wherever your heart desires and afford the safety you have promised him.«

Danny was right, hitting a wound point in Rusty's ego, because there had been one thing Rusty—in all those years—couldn't do and that was giving you proper protection. Protecting you from a past, you would never be able to free yourself from it, if you didn't have a certain amount of money for it.

»Okay, I'm in. But if we fail, I'm gonna send you personally to hell, Danny boy.«

Rusty might have agreed, trusting and believing in his friend that they will manage this with a 100 percentage chance of successful winning—but he also knew what price it would cost him, because if they indeed fail. It would be you, who Rusty would lose and you're more worth to him than all the money and jewels in the world.

~~~

So far, the whole plan went, besides minor improvements, smoothly good.

Rusty could almost imagine the millions of Dollar he would have soon. Enough money to buy you free and finally live with you in peace.

Just you and him, thought Rusty, imagining the new chapter of life—fully secure, comfortable and happy healthy—he would have with you and maybe a big family with lots of cats and dogs.

„Uh, uhm, Rusty there's–“ „Rusty, there's a problem. A you problem.“

»What?« asked Rusty through the mini microphone, scrunching up his face in confusion—forgetting his cup of jello momentarily. Another problem? What do they mean with "you"-problem?

„Look towards the entrance. You might need to prepare for a divorce too.“

»Fuck. Give me some extra minutes to sort this out.«

»Robert Russel James Ryan! You do not leave our house in such fucking manners. How fucking dare you! Do you know how fucking worried I was?!«

A few people had turned their heads, starting to gossip already, when you marched forward to Rusty and shouted in anger at him.

Ouch, shouting his full name—you're furious, a deadly threat of trait of yours, with him and it was Rusty's own fault.

Rusty took a few steps forward, discarding his cup of jello and raising both of his hands in surrender—wanting to appease you.

Honestly, he haven't seen you this angry, ever since Danny and he had a fistfight with your "Boss"—which they of course had lost, as they couldn't win against a knife and knuckleheads—and you were so upset with them, that you cussed them out so much—they were taken aback by it, spook them just a little—while you treated their wounds.

So yes, Rusty—and as well Danny—knew your kind of anger very well.

»Hey, love, watcha doing here?« Rusty was curious how you got here—as you should be in sunny California, safe and sound in the apartment.

»Don't come with such bullshit. You know perfectly well, why the fuck I'm here. So tell me now, Robert, the fuck are you and Danny—and I know the fucker is here as well—suspiciously planning to do here?!« you had raised your finger, pointing threatening at him.

Rusty inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, trying to think of ways to get you away from here—before you either might could get harmed by accident, being caught in the metaphorically crossfire or causing a disturbance to their plan.

Though, perhaps, he could use you for a good distraction, but no—no, no, he had sworn himself to not do such things with you.

Gripping your arms gently, Rusty pulls you close to his side and leads you away to a more secluded area of waiting.

Rusty brought you a glass of cold Cola, which you begrudgingly took from your husband. Taking a few sips from it, you gave Rusty a pointed look—almost a frown or angry glare—awaiting an explanation from him.

~~~

Waking up to an empty bedside wasn't what had spooked you into a worry—it was the discovery that your husband was nowhere in the apartment and that he couldn't be called and neither Danny.

It might didn't seem like big problem for most people, but for you it was—considering your past and what happened to Rusty and Danny back then.

Your mind raced with unpleasant thoughts and memories. Every possibility of what if's run through, flooding you with anxiety.

Rusty could've been; in a accident, being in hospital injured, arrested—most likely, your husband is certainly not a innocent man and had done some bad things of illegally—you're not a saint either though—you're aware of it—or worst case scenario, your Boss signed of the deal and killed Rusty.

God, it causes waves of nausea inside your stomach. Lungs feeling so tight, it was hard to breathe for the next minutes and your body, shaking like unstable tower during an earthquake.

»Fucking above, I swear to, Rusty will get his share fair of talk from me to hear.« you grumbled out, cursing loudly when you hit your hand somewhere.

You needed to sit down for a few minutes, stress getting too high and head too light.

~~~

».....surprise«

»Repeat that?« you blinked at him, haven't registered one word of what Rusty just had told you.

»I said, I can't tell you what me and Danny doing here, because it's a surprise, love«

»Rusty, you tell me now, why you and Danny are here or so god help me.«

»My love, I can't. It's a surprise«

Perhaps, in retrospective, Rusty shouldn't have woken you up in the early hours of morning—still in a daze of sleep, in between slumber of dreams—and telling you, in a half-truth, about a little trip he's gonna do, kissing you goodbye.

And yeah, maybe Rusty should have told you personally about the little heist they gonna do, but then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore and Rusty loved it to surprise you.

»Fuck your surprise, Rusty. I honestly thought he had signed off the deal and oh, I don't know, killed you. I was worried sick, asshole.«

»I know, I know my dear. I should have told you, I know. Could my prince forgive me?«

Rusty leaned in closer, whispering the last few words in your ear as he asks for your forgiveness, ghosting small kisses over face and your lips—when you remain silent.

You rolled your eyes at Rusty antics, but couldn't help yourself to smile.

„Not to bother, rus, but time management?“

Sometimes, Rusty thought—holding back a groan of annoyance—the guys sure could be a mood killer and pain in the ass. It's his and Danny's team though and a teams a team and they a job to do.

»Wait for me at Helios-Motel, I'll be there in like a hour.«

Rusty kissed you one more time on the lips, before standing up. You had taken hold of his hand, before he could walk away.

»You promise me, you and Danny will be safe?«

»Of course, my prince.«

If Rusty might be caught today's night and they would ask him for his reasons, he would tell them; it's you, you're his sole reason for everything he does.

[denimbex1986]

'Years before he became known as the father of the atomic bomb, J. Robert Oppenheimer worked as a physics professor at the University of California, Berkeley, when he met who became perhaps the greatest love of his life.

Her name was Jean Tatlock, and just as she captured the famed physicist’s heart, their romance has captured the imaginations of historians for nearly a century. And they aren’t the only ones. Tatlock will be portrayed by Florence Pugh, alongside Cillian Murphy’s Oppenheimer, in the upcoming film Oppenheimer, directed by Christopher Nolan.

Affiliated with the Communist Party, Tatlock is often credited with introducing Oppenheimer to radical politics, something that haunted him in his later life and career. Despite their 10-year age gap, and though they were separated by the time he led the famous Manhattan Project, Tatlock had an undeniable impact on Oppenheimer’s life, and her tragic death weighed on him as he began his work on the atomic bomb.

“A free-spirited woman with a hungry, poetic mind, she was always the one person in the room, whatever the circumstances, who remained unforgettable,” according to American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer by Kai Bird and Martin Sherwin.

Meeting Oppenheimer

Born in Ann Arbor, Michigan in 1914, Tatlock was the second child of J.S.P. Tatlock and Marjorie Fenton. Her father, who had a docorate from Harvard University, was an acclaimed English professor and literary scholar and was considered a foremost expert on the works of Geoffrey Chaucer, according to Brotherhood of the Bomb by Gregg Herken.

Jean inherited her father’s intellect. Before attending Vassar College in 1931, she took a year off to travel in Europe, staying with a friend in Switzerland who was a devoted follower of psychologist Carl Jung. After meeting a close-knit community of psychoanalysts during the trip, she decided to study psychology herself, according to Bird and Sherwin.

After graduating from Vassar in 1935, she studied at the Stanford Medical School, where her intellect and good looks intimidated the other classmates. They also caught the interest of Oppenheimer, then a physics professor at the University of California, Berkeley, where Tatlock completed her prerequisites before enrolling at Stanford.

Oppenheimer and Tatlock began a passionate and intense romance in 1936, when she was 22 and he was 32. The decade age gap didn’t seem to matter. A friend described Tatlock as Oppenheimer’s “truest love” and said he was “devoted to her,” according to Bird and Sherwin. He reportedly proposed to Tatlock twice, though she turned him down.

Tatlock was impressed with Oppenheimer’s knowledge of English literature, and she introduced him to the poetry of John Donne. It’s widely believed the Trinity test—the first detonation of the nuclear weapon in 1945—was named after a Donne poem and inspired by Tatlock, according to The First Atomic Bomb by Janet Farrell Brodie.

Communist Affiliations

Tatlock was a dues-paying member of the Communist Party of the United States of America while dating Oppenheimer, an association that would later bring a great deal of scrutiny to the famed physicist. Tatlock wrote for the Western Worker, a major West Coast communist publication, and she introduced him to several prominent members of the party, according to Robert Oppenheimer: A Life Inside the Center by Ray Monk.

“I find I am a complete Red when anything at all,” Tatlock wrote to a friend, according to American Prometheus. She also pushed Oppenheimer to move from mere theory to action, and when he commented that he would have to settle for staying on the periphery of political struggles, Tatlock remarked, “Oh, for God’s sake, don’t settle for anything.”

However, Oppenheimer denied that Tatlock was solely responsible for his political interests or affiliations, noting that he first read about Soviet communism after his father lent him a book on the subject before he met Tatlock. According to Bird and Sherwin’s American Prometheus, Oppenheimer described Tatlock’s communist involvement as “on-again, off-again affairs and never seemed to provide for her what she was seeking. I do not believe that her interests were really political.”

From 1939 onward, Oppenheimer claimed he only saw Tatlock on rare occasions, and in 1940, he wed Katherine Puening, more commonly known as Kitty Oppenheimer, to whom he was married the rest of his life. However, he and Tatlock remained “the closest of friends and occasional lovers,” according to Bird and Sherwin, and she would phone him for comfort during her occasional bouts of depression.

By 1943, Tatlock was a pediatric psychiatrist at Mount Zion Hospital in San Francisco, at the start of what seemed to be a promising career. The 29-year-old was also being treated for clinical depression, which might have worsened when Oppenheimer drastically reduced contact with her after becoming director of the Los Alamos Laboratory that year, according to Bird and Sherwin.

A Tragic Death

Tatlock was placed under surveillance by the FBI due to her relationship with Oppenheimer and past involvement with communist politics. When Tatlock and Oppenheimer had one last meeting in June 1943, she confessed that she still loved him and wanted to be with him. Unbeknownst to her, FBI agents monitored the entire visit, according to Monk’s biography.

“For reasons of love and compassion, he had become a key member of Jean’s psychological support structure—and then he had vanished, mysteriously,” Bird and Sherwin wrote in American Prometheus. “In Jean’s eyes, it may have seemed as if ambition had trumped love.”

Tatlock died by suicide on January 4, 1944, at age 29. Her father discovered her body after entering her San Francisco apartment through a window after she didn’t respond to the doorbell. He found her lying in the bathroom, her head submerged in a partially-filled bathtub, with a suicide note on the dining room table, according to Monk.

“I am disgusted with everything,” the note read, according to Bird and Sherwin. “To those who loved me and helped me, all love and courage. I wanted to live and to give and I got paralyzed somehow. I tried like hell to understand and couldn’t.”

One of the first people to learn of her death was FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, due to the agency’s surveillance, according to Monk. Oppenheimer was despondent upon hearing the news. Due to the unusual circumstances around her death and the FBI surveillance, many have speculated that Tatlock was murdered, but most of her loved ones believe the cause of death was suicide.

Tatlock’s relationship with Oppenheimer would be used as evidence against him in 1954, when the United States Atomic Energy Commission held security hearings that explored his communist associations and other past actions. Oppenheimer lost his security clearance as a result of the hearing, effectively ending his formal relationship with the U.S. government.'