#Marc: trying to live his life peacefully

[roarandclank]

Take that Suit away and what are You? Still a lil Danger Marshmallow~

[in-a-daddy-state-of-mind]

Getting Up Next To You

Pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader (background Jake Lockley x f!reader)

Summary: Steven keeps waking up next to you after you and Jake hook up

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of smut, social anxiety, some angst, general self-hatred, let me know if there is anything else I missed. MINORS DNI

Notes: I just love the idea of Steven being an awkward little bean after waking up next to you. Also the idea of him slowly falling in love and you two being little anxious messes. I’m just obsessed with him and I think he could make me like myself more. As always interactions with the post are appreciated as well as feedback!

The first time you met Steven Grant was when he woke up next to you unaware that you would be there. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Waking up next to beautiful women he didn’t remember was not a common occurrence in his life.

Steven almost fell out of the bed when he turned to find you peacefully sleeping next to him. You quickly proceeded to try and calm him down or at least convince him you weren’t an intruder.

“Jake told me this might happen. Are you Marc or Steven?” You quickly questioned trying to deescalate.

It took a second for Steven to process your words. Jake told you? Christ, what had his life become since the third alter joined them.

“Steven. Wait a minute, you know Jake?” He questioned back still confused.

“Yes, we slept together last night. That’s why I’m here.” You answered seeming way too calm for someone that woke up next to a different person sharing the body of your one night stand.

Of course Jake would do something like this. Bring someone into their house and then not even have the common decency to see them out. Steven couldn’t understand how he shared a body with someone so different from himself sometimes.

“I was kind of… spent last night. Couldn’t really walk home afterwards. I’m so sorry I’m bothering you now.” You apologized clinging the bedsheets to your chest.

Oh god that meant you were naked under the sheets. Steven desperately tried to wave that thought away.

“Alright, that is probably more information than I needed to hear. And you’re fine.” Steven said moving away from the bed.

“Thanks.”

An awkward silence fell over the two of you. Neither sure what to do in this situation.

“Do you want to have some breakfast? I make some mean scrambled eggs.” You offered moving away from the bed still clinging to the sheets.

Steven was in a dilemma. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was here or if Jake would be mad if he accepted. By the situation you two were in, it was clear his alter wasn’t looking for a lasting relationship. Yet, you seemed so kind and there was so much hope in your offer. Damn Jake, he was the one that put Steven in this situation and he would have to deal with the consequences.

“Breakfast sounds lovely. What’s your name by the way?”

You introduced yourself offering your hand for Steven to shake. You were unreasonably cute. Part of Steven wished he was the one that had met you first.

Steven gave you your clothes and moved to the kitchen busying himself while you changed. He was so different from the person you met last night it almost gave you whiplash. You obviously had liked Jake, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone home with him. Yet where Jake was all sharp edges and hungry looks, Steven was smooth and soft. The fact that he didn’t even try to sneak a look at your naked form really solidified you were dealing with someone different.

Once you were fully clothed, you made the breakfast you promised: scrambled eggs, toast and coffee. You and Steven ate together making conversation. You asked him lots of questions and seemed genuinely interested in his answers. What was his favorite breakfast food, how long has he lived in London, did he prefer breakfast or dinner. Being socially anxious this was your strategy for when you met new people. Just ask them as many questions as you could, start from what you are doing now and try to trace it back all the way to their family roots. This way conversation would happen and you didn’t have to panic about being in silence and them hating your presence.

Steven was surprisingly disappointed when the meal ended. He wanted to keep talking to you. In the short amount of time you spent together he had rather enjoyed your company. Nobody was usually interested in spending time with him, and yet here you were. A complete stranger that had managed to learn more about him over the span of a meal than most of the people he had been working with for years.

“I’m off then. It was lovely to meet you, Steven.” You said after you helped him put all the dishes in the sink.

“It was lovely to meet you too. I hope we’ll get to see each other again.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. But I hope so too.”

The smile you gave him made his heart melt. Gosh, he would have to beg Jake to make this not a one night stand.

Steven had berated Jake with questions after that morning. He wanted to know all he could about you and yet he was met with the answer of “you were just some girl he met at a bar”.

It’s not like Jake didn’t like you. He most certainly did. You were hot, the sex was amazing, and he actually enjoyed talking to you at the bar. But Jake was not in the business of collecting repeated trading cards. He was not looking for a relationship and was very secure in his choices which just made Steven more displeased that really it was unlikely he would meet you again.

That was of course until he once more woke up next to you and this time actually fell out of the bed in surprise.

“Steven, calm down! It’s just me!” You shouted trying to calm your own rapid heartbeat from the shock of being woken up like that.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“You reacted the same way you did last time. Also you have a British accent. Jake told me the other one doesn’t.”

“Jake told you?” Steven questioned uncertain as to why his alter would just offer you information like this. “Yeah, I asked him about you.” You said nonchalantly.

Steven could almost hear his heart stop. Fuck, you asked about him. He tried to not get his hopes up but the very fact you wanted to know more about him had to mean that you also thought about him after. Right?

“I have been dreaming about those scrambled eggs.” He said with a smile.

And about her. You won’t shut up about it. Steven ignored Jake’s voice in his head.

“I’ll gladly make them again for you!”

With that you two did the same as last time with Steven moving to the kitchen to grab ingredients while you put your clothes back on. This time, however, it felt comfortable. Familiar. You didn’t feel stressed around Steven despite the fact you had only met him once and the fact that the voices in your head weren’t screaming that this was awkward and you needed to leave as they usually did was something you didn’t know what to do with.

Truth be told, you had secretly hoped Steven would be the one you woke up next to before you fell asleep the night prior. When you saw Jake from across the bar the previous night you wanted to sink into your seat. The two of them hadn’t left your mind since the last time but as usual it would take way too much courage you didn’t have to actually go speak to him. And he clearly had meant for it to be a one-time thing, you could get the context clues for that. So you can imagine your shock when Jake approached you again, just as flirtatious as last time. One thing led to another and you were once again here with Steven eating eggs.

This time around you asked him if he minded you turning on the TV while you two ate. So you sat next to him watching a re-run of Doctor Who while you still asked questions. This time the questions were all related to his interests and you were perhaps the first person Steven met that didn’t seem to immediately check out when he went on a rant about how Gods of Egypt had gotten it all wrong. Steven was in trouble and he knew it.

Once more, the meal seemed to end way too quickly and before Steven knew it you were taking the dishes to the sink and picking up your bag.

“Wait, don’t you at least want to see the end of the episode? I mean I would be devastated if you didn’t know what happened about those blasted Weeping Angels.” Steven offered.

Truth was you had seen Blink more times than you could count but you still accepted Steven’s offer. There was so much hope in his eyes you just couldn’t say no. You both sat on the couch and continued watching the episode making comments about your thoughts on it. You ended up watching the episode they aired after it too and it was afternoon by the time you finally left.

Steven really hoped Jake would choose to bring you home again.

Before Steven saw you next he argued with Jake endlessly. He lost count of how much time he spent in front of the mirror just grilling Jake on why he wouldn’t invite you on a proper date. He clearly liked you and it was the least you deserved. If Steven couldn’t be in a relationship with you, he at least would like for someone in the system to do it. Yet, as always Jake would give the same answer: he was not interested in a relationship. True, he had slept with you twice. And brought you to the actual apartment versus your own house or the cab. All steps he hadn’t taken with anyone really but that was it. He wouldn’t cross anymore boundaries with you and a date would definitely cross many.

And then, after weeks of arguing, Steven woke up next to you again. Except this time he wasn’t frightened. He didn’t scream or fall out of the bed, he just laid there looking at you and trying to figure out how he could not disturb your sleep and yet still get to spend the day with you. After what felt like years but was probably a couple of minutes your eyes opened and focused on Steven’s. The moment they did you opened an enchanting smile.

“We really gotta stop meeting like this, Steven.” You joked.

“I rather like the sight of you first thing in the morning.” Steven said making your cheeks turn red.

He really hoped that wasn’t too straight forward but it was like these feeling inside of him refused to be contained. He was had it bad for you. Really bad.

“So breakfast?” You simply said already sitting up and looking around for your clothes.

“Actually I was planning to go to the museum today. A new exhibition on modern art just opened and I was going to go today anyway so maybe you could join me? We could get breakfast at the coffee shop there.”

Steven’s voice almost broke at the end. He was so nervous but he just couldn’t bear to think you would leave so early again.

“Don’t you work at the museum?” You questioned.

“Yes, but my boss Donna can be real nasty. She would never let me actually see the exhibition during work hours.” Steven explained.

“Sure then! I would love to!”

Steven almost couldn’t believe the word coming out of your mouth. How could he be so damn lucky?

You two went to the museum and Steven couldn’t have dreamed of something better. You had a genuine discussion about what art was and what your favorite painter were. You ended up seeing the new exhibition but also just walking around the entire museum. You stayed at least an hour in the Egyptian exhibit as Steven told you every detail about every piece and the history behind it.

Steven was enchanting. Gosh, when he went on his rants his eyes lit up and the perpetual dark bags under his eyes seemed to disappear. He was always beautiful but in the museum he absolutely glowed.

When he got too excited about showing you different things he grabbed you by the hand and dragged you from one piece to another. The contact was so small and innocent compared to the ones you’ve had with this same body in the past but it still made you blush. Fuck, you were whipped. You liked Steven. Not only Jake but now you truly couldn’t deny that you were crushing bad on Steven.

By the time you were finished with the museum it was late afternoon. Steven couldn’t remember a day he had enjoyed more. You both had decided to get food at a vegan restaurant close to the museum he loved. The meal was going lovely as always but one thing was in his mind and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Why do you still sleep with Jake?” Steven blurted out almost involuntarily.

“What?”

“You clearly deserve better! You don’t deserve to be with a bloody wanker that will sleep with you and then not even have the decency to wake up next to you!”

To say you had not expected this was an understatement. You stuttered not really sure how to respond.

“Do I deserve better?” You asked letting your insecurity come through.

“Yes! You deserve the world.”

“It really doesn’t feel like that sometimes.” You confessed.

Steven quickly moved from his position on the other side of the booth you were sitting in to get closer to you. He placed his hand on your cheek making you look him in the eye.

“Oh, love. You do. You’re brilliant and you deserve someone who will make you feel like it. You deserve someone who will worship you.” Steven said softly.

“Someone like you?” A boldness took over you and forced you to say it.

You immediately regretted it and was about to apologize when Steven cut you off.

“If you’d have me.”

Instead of replying, you closed the distance between the two of you and kissed Steven. First the kiss was soft, temptation but as soon as he responded it quickly become hungry. Steven had been waiting for this moment for more than a month now and it felt fantastic. It was all he wanted and dreamed it would be.

The next time Steven woke up next to you was different. He wasn’t on the other side of the bed as usual. Instead he was pressed against your back, feeling your warmth as he snuggled closer to you.

He was the one that got to fall asleep next to you the previous night after he was the one to finally ravish your body. Hearing you scream his name as he plunged into you was enchanting and he understood why Jake kept coming back to you.

And now here he was. Getting to look at you in the morning knowing exactly how you both ended up in that position.

You stirred in your sleep and turned to look at him. You opened that same sweet smile that melted his heart.

“Good morning, Steven.”

“Good morning, love.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

how things are now ~ marc spector & steven grant;moon knight

word count: 2436

request?: yes!

“Hi hi hi sweetness!! I am here to humbly request a Marc Spector and Steven Grant x reader. The basis of it is kinda just what life is like after the finale. We saw how Marc was towards Stevens feelings for Layla and I kinda wanted that. The reader (Marc’s wife) starting a conversation with Marc about how things are now then going into how it works with Steven and all three of them talking about it. Fluffy asf please with maybe a steamy ending. Thank you so so very much🤍”

description: now that they’ve learned how to share the body, they must come to terms with the fact that they also have to share their wife

pairing: marc spector x female!reader x steven grant

warnings: swearing, a small sad moment but only small, the boys are fighting again

masterlist (one, two, three)

Meeting Steven Grant, the second personality that lived in your husband’s head, was one of the many surprises you learned about Marc after his time working for the God Khonshu. It was probably the better of all the other surprises, but still a surprise nonetheless. It was also a surprise that came with some complications in the marriage that you knew needed to be addressed.

See, Marc and Steven had figured out a way to evenly share “the body” and to get along with one another, until it came to wanting to spend time with you. Marc loved you to the moon and back and was relieved that everything with Khonshu had ended so that he could finally be with you without the fear of putting you in danger. However, Steven had also grown very fond of you. He was over the moon to find out that “both he and Marc had such a lovely wife” (his words). You’d be lying if you said you didn’t also love Steven as much as you loved Marc.

With that being said, this was where the complications lie: Steven kept trying to take hold of the body over Marc whenever you were with him. Despite having figured out a way to peacefully co-inhabit the body, Marc felt like he was back to struggling for control of himself because of how often Steven tried to take over so he could be with you.

You couldn’t fully blame Steven, though, as Marc had openly voiced his jealousy towards you and Steven, to a point where he wanted to deny Steven any time with you and wanted you all to himself.

You let this go on for a few weeks before you decided it was time to put an end to it. You were going to lay down the ground rules of this new way your marriage was going to work, and if the men didn’t like that, then that was too bad.

You arrived home from work to find Marc hunched over his laptop. You had come to learn which one of them had control of the body due to their body language: standing wise, Marc had the better posture and held himself with more confidence than Steven, but when they were sitting Marc tended to hunch or basically lay across wherever he was sitting.

He looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “How was your day?”

“Oh, you know, same old same old,” you responded. “Dealt with shitty people who don’t know what manners are, restrained myself from slapping said stupid people because an assault charge really isn’t worth it.”

Marc chuckled and pulled you into his arms as you sat down next to him. He leaned down to kiss you. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling the familiar warmth running through your body that Marc’s presence usually brought.

You pulled away from the kiss to look up into his eyes. You could see that it was still Marc in control, so you decided to just get to the point.

“I want to talk to you about something,” you said.

He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Depends on how you take what I’m gonna say.” You pulled away from his embrace and took his hands in yours. You smoothed down his calloused knuckles with your thumbs as your gaze stayed on your joined hands. “I want to talk about Steven.”

You could feel him tense up beside you. “Why?”

“Marc, we can’t just keep acting like everything is the same now,” you said. “Besides the obvious that my husband was the hitman for an Egyptian God and apparently is a superhero now, there’s also a new person that’s been introduced in our marriage.”

“He’s not involved in our marriage.”

You finally looked up at him so that you could give him a stern look. His face was twisted in annoyance.

“You can say that all you want, but the truth is, Steven is just as involved as you and me,” you said. “You love me, I love you. But we both know that Steven also loves me, and I love him, too. I love you both equally.”

“He’s a fucking parasite,” Marc growled, tugging his hands free from you so he could stand.

“Marc!” you scolded. “Don’t you dare say that. We both know that’s not how you feel.”

“It’s how I feel when that fucker is getting between me and my wife. You’ve been my wife for longer, (Y/N). It’s not fair for him to come along and think he can just wedge his way into something he was never involved in before just because he and I have finally figured out how to share the body.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. You were starting to realize this was probably a bad idea. There was obviously no getting through to Marc about the issue, and you were certain now that he wasn’t about to happily follow along with the ground rules you were trying to set. The last thing you wanted was to continue on like this in your marriage, but you really weren’t sure what else to do anymore.

“Is he upsetting you, love?”

You looked up to see Marc’s entire demeanor had changed. Anyone who didn’t know Marc well enough probably wouldn’t pick up on it, but you had come to learn the tells between Marc and Steven so well that even the slightest of change tipped you off as to who was in control. You knew your angry husband had been forced back into the body, replaced with the kindhearted Brit who also resided in Marc’s head.

“Steven, now really is not a good time for you to take over,” you said. “We’re kind of...discussing you.”

“Oh, I heard,” Steve said. “I also heard that he wasn’t listening and was just making you upset.”

“Steven, give me back the body right now. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“I believe this has everything to do with me, since it’s literally about me.”

“This is between me and my wife, Steven. Regardless of who we’re talking about, you’re not part of the conversation.”

“We share a body, Marc, she’s not just your wife anymore.”

“Will both of you shut the fuck up!”

He looked at you so startled that you weren’t sure which of them currently had control of the body. Not that you even really cared at that moment. You were tired of the fighting. You were finally taking this moment to say what was on your mind, which was what you had been trying to do since you had gotten home. They were going to listen, whether they liked it or not, and they were going to accept your terms.

You stood from the couch and approached whichever one of them had control. You took his hand and looked up into his eyes, searching to figure out which of the two personalities was there. He squeezed your hand a little as you recognized that Steven was the one still in control.

“Steven,” you started. He nodded, confirming what you already knew. “I need you to listen to me, okay? And once I’m done talking, I need you to give me Marc back for a little while?”

He nodded again. You brought him back to the couch and sat him down. Steven looked at you with wide, attentive eyes; the brown eyes that you had fallen in love with all those years ago when you first met Marc. That was one thing that you wished Marc could understand about the new dynamic of your marriage including Steven - the fact that you were basically getting to fall in love with your husband for the first time all over again.

“Marc, I know you’re listening,” you started. “But I need you to also control yourself so I can talk to Steven, okay?” You didn’t wait for a response you knew you weren’t going to get. “Steven, I love you.”

He couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at his lips. “I love you, too, (Y/N).”

“But you understand that I love Marc, too, right? He was my husband first, before I met you. He was my first real love. He’s special to me in a different way.”

Steven nodded. “I know. I understand that. I could never dream of you feeling any other way for him.”

“You say you understand, but you do tend to block Marc and I from spending time together. Case in point, you taking over just then in the middle of our conversation.”

“You were fighting - ”

“We weren’t fighting, we were talking. Even if we were fighting, though, that happens sometimes. Couples argue. It’s normal. You don’t always have to come to my rescue if Marc and I are fighting. And it’s not just when we’re fighting. You take control a lot when we’re trying to spend time together, on date nights especially. I understand that you love me, and that you want to get to spend time with me, too, but Marc did come first. You have to let him have his time with me, too. Okay?”

Steven nodded, looking down at his lap. You reached out to put a finger under his chin, lifting his head to look at you. You gave him a soft smile. “Don’t be upset. I do love the time we spend together.”

Steven smiled, shyly. You leaned forward to kiss him. He seemed shocked at first, which was when you realized it was the first time you had really kissed Steven. All the time you had spent together, all the date nights and lazy Sundays he had hijacked, and you had never truly kissed him before. It almost didn’t seem right for this to be the first time.

You could feel his hand twitch as you kissed. You kept a firm hold of it, knowing it was likely Marc trying to intervene, or trying to hit Steven for kissing you. When you pulled away, Steven pouted, which caused you to giggle.

“We had a deal,” you reminded him. “Can I speak to my husband please?”

Steven sighed, but didn’t put up a fight. You watched his demeanor change as Marc took control again. His pouty face turned to a scowl and he quickly pulled his hands away from you as he fully regained control. You rolled your eyes. Yep, there was your husband alright.

“That was kind of you,” his said. “To give him that speech and to kiss him like that. Wasn’t shitty at all to have to witness another man kissing my wife.”

“Marc,” you said in a warning voice. “We’re talking about this, too.”

“What else is there to talk about? You love Steven. I already knew that. Big fucking deal.”

“But I love you, too. Did you miss that part? The whole giant chunk of conversation where I told Steven that he has to understand that our relationship comes first to me?”

“I heard you tell him you love spending time with him, and that he has to share you. I’m not sharing you, (Y/N), so don’t even think about asking.”

“We don’t exactly have a choice in the matter, Marc. Whether you like it or not, you’re not the only one who has control of your body. You can’t just shove Steven down inside of you and never let him out again.”

“Worked for me once, didn’t it?”

You grabbed his face and forced him to look at you. You could see he was trying to seem angry, but there was something in his eyes that gave him away; sadness.

“Baby, you know heard what I said to Steven,” you said. “I love you. You. I love Steven, too, but you were in my heart first. You’re the man I married, not Steven. Why are you so worried about my feelings for him so much? I can love you both equally, and I do.”

Being forced to look at you and finally being asked the question he dreaded the most caused tears to start to form in Marc’s eyes. You don’t think you had ever seen him cry in years. The last time was probably when you both got married. You could remember his misty eyes as you walked down the aisle that day, but that was the only time you could remember seeing him cry. It took you by surprise to see him getting so emotional over this.

“What if you start to love him more than you love me?” he asked, his voice soft. “What if you realize he’s better than I am?”

“I won’t, because that’s not true.”

Marc laughed, humorlessly. “Isn’t it? I mean, he’s nicer for sure. A little annoying, but people like him. He’s not abrasive or aggressive like I am. He’s the type of guy a woman like you was supposed to end up with, not an asshole like me.”

You took his hand in yours and gave it a slight squeeze. “And yet you’re the one I fell in love with. You’re the one I married. And you’re the one I intend to spend the rest of my life with, whether Steven is in the picture or not. You can be a bit of an asshole, I’m not going to deny that - ” His chuckle had some humor behind it this time. “ - but I love that about you. I love that you are you. I’m not going to end our marriage because of a nice guy with a cute accent. I mean, I’m here trying to negotiate that the three of us have equal standing in this marriage, for God’s sake. Would I be doing that if I loved Steven more than I loved you?”

Marc shook his head. “I guess not.”

You leaned forward to kiss him, too. Just as much love and passion exploded from your kiss with Marc as it did with Steven. If you needed any further evidence that you loved them both equally, that was it.

You rested your forehead against his and looked into his eyes. Those eyes, you loved them more than you could’ve ever loved anything else.

“He doesn’t get to have the best part with you, though,” Marc said.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “The best part?”

You screamed in surprise as Marc suddenly lifted you off your feet and carried you off to the bedroom. “The part where we both get naked and I get to feel you all over. That’s not his, that part is mine.”

[fahrni]

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

Its been a super duper exciting couple weeks which culminated in an App Store feature for Stream! As an Apple developer you dream of stuff like this but don’t expect it to happen. At least I didn’t. It’s quite an honor and I’ll be on Cloud 9 for a while.❤️

CNN

“Suzanne Somers passed away peacefully at home in the early morning hours of October 15th. She survived an aggressive form of breast cancer for over 23 years,” Hay wrote in a statement shared on behalf of the actress’ family.

R.I.P. 🪦

Marc Adreessen

Our enemy is the ivory tower, the know-it-all credentialed expert worldview, indulging in abstract theories, luxury beliefs, social engineering, disconnected from the real world, delusional, unelected, and unaccountable – playing God with everyone else’s lives, with total insulation from the consequences.

Someone stayed up way too late reading the works of Ayn Rand and in a ketamine driven manic state started writing.

Clearly Andreessen has been smoking his own supply and is so privileged and ultra wealthy he has no clue what real life is like any longer.

I chose to share the paragraph above because he’s basically describing himself and his fellow libertarian tech bros looking to build a perfect society on the backs of a servant class. Us.

One day this piece will be part of some psychological study on the harms of the early 21st century wrought by a class of technology oligarchs.

We’re all just trying to survive out here, save the planet, and help others along the way. You want the exact opposite. All you care about are wealth and power at the expense of all else.

Go enjoy the outdoors with a loved one and chill. Oh, and lay off the microdosing.

Dylan Scott • Vox

In the coming weeks, the majority of Americans will engage in a bizarre, mildly terrifying, distinctly American seasonal ritual. I refer, of course, to open enrollment — the time when you sign up for your health insurance plan.

As far as I know we’re still the only major country in the world with a second rate sense of healthcare.

Healthcare for all is just what the doctor ordered. A healthy America is a better American, just as an educated America is a better America. So, while we’re getting healthcare for all taken care of let’s make all state universities free of charge.

Paul Stamatiou

It was March 2020, I was in New England when covid quarantine had just begin and I found myself much more homebound. In these situations I’m not one to just do nothing. I always have some sort of project or hobby to keep me busy, be it taking and editing photos, writing detailed blog posts, or coding something.

Holy cow is this app beautiful! It’s a real bummer it’s never seen the light of day but I understand his reasons.

It’s a shame nobody bought this from him, hired him, and let him see it to fruition, it’s an incredible piece of work. 👍🏼

Jason Snell • Six Colors

If I had a dime for every “Apple’s going to release a low-end product to compete with other low-end devices” rumor, I’d have a hefty bank account by now. And you can find plenty of stories debunking this report as “sketchy.” At the risk of giving this report more credulity than it deserves, let me try to understand what this report might actually mean.

I’m not a longtime Apple device user, I started in 2006, but I can say this doesn’t sound like something Apple would do. 🍎

Daniel Lemire

The C++ library has long been organized around stream classes, at least when it comes to reading and parsing strings. But streams can be surprisingly slow.

Call me crazy but I still love C++ as a development language. I never really dove into streams, I used std::string, std::vector, and std::map a ton but not with streams.

The language has morphed so much since 2014 I hardly recognize it. That’s not a bad thing, they’re just trying to make it easier to use and safer for developers.

Anywho, interesting read if you’re into C++ or languages and performance in general.

Chloe Veltman • NPR

Netflix recently shuttered the longstanding mail-order DVD service that led to the closure of video stores around the world and ushered in the era of streaming. But now the company appears to be embracing brick and mortar.

Heh, let’s come full circle and open a physical location! 🤣

Now, if they include Blu-ray and DVD rentals that would be amazing! Perhaps they can take over all the shuttered Blockbusters that haven’t been turned into something else?

Meera Navlakha • Mashable

But some spots are closing their doors on influencers, raising questions. Take Dae, a design shop and cafe in Brooklyn. As reported by Curbed, the space was inundated by influencers carrying tripods, to the point where the owners decided to ban them entirely.

I can understand businesses doing this if the gaggle of influencers are forcing regulars and paying customers to avoid their favorite haunt. It doesn’t seem unreasonable at all.

Asher Fair • Beyond the Flag

Carson Hocevar has been formally announced as Spire Motorsports’ third driver for the 2024 NASCAR Cup Series season, replacing Ty Dillon.

I’m happy for Carson Hocevar and bummed for Ty Dillon.

Hocevar has driven a few Cup races this season and has proven himself a fast, talented, racer. He has a lot to learn about rubbing elbows with the big boys but he’ll learn.

As for Dillion I wonder where he’ll land? As far as I know there aren’t any Cup Series seats open. Maybe Xfinity or Truck Series? Regardless, I wish him well.

[Fritz Bogott • AutoDesk Instructables]

After several years of baking in North House Folk School’s wood-fired brick oven, I decided to build an oven of my own. I went a little crazy with extra features (slab foundation, arches, ash dump, chimney, doors, wood storage) and decorations (limestone around the foundation), but you can make a very usable version in a weekend with salvaged materials and a couple of friends.

Folks always make this look so easy! I’d never complete a project like this! But boy does it sound amazing.

I’m thinking a Roccbox is more my speed! 🤣

Ron Amadeo • Ars Technica

After ChatGPT disruption, Stack Overflow lays off 28 percent of staff

Yikes! The industry is at the beginning of yet another transformation and this one is happening very rapidly. I’d be lying if I didn’t say this terrifies me at some level because I’m essentially “aging out” at this point in my career. I always thought I’d have to learn JavaScript to continue on as a developer. Instead I may have to become a “Prompt Engineer” to bend the LLM’s to my will.

I still refuse to call it AI. 😃

Cory Doctorow

Amazon’s bestselling “bitter lemon” energy drink was bottled delivery driver piss

This is an amazing story! How in the world can someone game the system so hard they’re able to sell urine bottled as an energy drink? It also exposes Amazon, yet again, as a sweat shop. This time with drivers.

[spectrenightfell]

Summary: After Harrow and everything that had happened in Cairo, Steven’s finally back home in London. He and Marc are getting along for once and peacefully sharing the body, both of them eager to get back to a normal and crazy God free life. The only problem is a normal life is boring and after the last few weeks of adventure Steven is now a little dissatisfied with his lonely and unfulfilling life.

One day bleeds into another, boring and grey and so very lonely. It’s enough to drive a normal person mad so he can only imagine how crazy it’s driving Marc. He’s just on the verge of getting a cat for some form of companionship when suddenly you enter his life like a ray of light cutting through rain clouds.

Steven’s never fallen so hard so quickly but there’s something about you, something a little off that has both him and Marc on edge despite how perfect you seem. Maybe to perfect.

Things only get worse when Steven and Marc both star blacking out.

Pairings: Steven Grant x fem!reader / hints of Marc Spector x fem!reader

Rating: G - rating will change in other instalments

next ->

Steven’s never been a social person. He’s awkward and nervous, talks to much and at the worst possible times about things that people don’t really care about. He makes people uncomfortable, he knows that but people make him uncomfortable to so he suppose it’s fair turn about.

He’s always kept to himself. No friends. Definitely no girlfriends. Just him and Gus, well new Gus now thanks to Marc’s negligence and Gus II because Steven didn’t want Marc feeling left out, now that their finally getting along and all that. He had had his mum for a while except it hadn’t even really been her had it? All those phone calls that went unanswered, Steven’s pointless ramblings filling up Marc’s voicemail for him to listen to once he took control of the body again or just delete with an annoyed huff. Then there had been the postcards, sent from all the different places Marc had been as either a mercenary or at Khonshu’s request, sending them back to Steven and painting a picture of a life that was being lived and a women who loved her son when the reality was that she had never loved Steven at all because to her he hadn’t even existed. She hadn’t loved Marc either, not for a long time and Steven was still trying to undo the damage she had caused him. It was tricky though and Steven wasn’t the best at these sort of things, often pushing things to far and saying the wrong thing that just had Marc retreating so deep inside himself that Steven could go days without seeing him in his reflection. Or if he was feeling particularly vindictive the ass would take control of the body and make Steven watch as he devoured a steak so rare it was practically still mooing and wash it all down with enough beer that when he woke up the next morning Steven would have a hangover that made him feel like his head was splitting open and find all the bloody paracetamol had been flushed down the toilet.

The point was Steven was lonely and had been for a while, even before Marc had been forced to show himself. He didn’t have much human interaction apart from at work and only Marc’s dry and somewhat sarcastic company when he got home. It hadn’t really been a problem before, Steven so used to it that he hadn’t actually realised how desperate he was for someone, anyone, to just talk to him. To touch him. To remind him what it was like to feel like an actual person.

Layla had been there for a while, all soft smiles and gentle touches that had Steven acting even more of a nervous idiot then normal. But it had all become a little to much for her, the strain starting to show when her smile became forced, her eyes tired and weary. She had left a month after the whole business with Harrow and Ammit, divorce papers signed and a promise to keep in touch. He’s not surprised, not really. Hurt, sure but not surprised by her seemingly sudden departure, though Marc hadn’t been shocked at all, watching from the various reflective surfaces around the flat as she packed up the last of her stuff before disappearing out the door and their lives. It’s a lot to deal with. He’s a lot to deal with. What with the whole two people one body thing and though they had seemed to make amends Steven didn’t think she had ever truly forgiven Marc for the years he had spent lying to her or the role he played in her fathers murder.

Once again they were alone, Marc sulking in the back of his mind whilst Steven tried his hardest to make him feel better but like he said, he wasn’t very good at these kind of interactions, awkward even when he was talking to his own reflection. Steven had found himself craving touch and company like he was an addict jonesing for his next hit and feeling even more lost and helpless then he had before. He plastered on a smile though, tried to act like nothing was wrong even though he could feel Marc’s heartache and knowing he could most likely feel Steven’s crushing loneliness. Neither of them said anything though, sinking back into their normal routine and ignoring the hole Layla had left behind. It was fine. They were both used to being on their own and at least now they had each other, even if that aspect of their relationship was a little bit stilted. They managed, even got some sort of schedule established for who fronted when. Life went on, the loneliness becoming another aspect that they just kind of ignored and got on with.

It’s roundabout the point when Steven was contemplating getting a cat for at least some kind of affection that you enter his life and everything gets a bit, well, confusing.

It doesn’t take much to get his job back at the gift shop. A mumbled and stuttered out explanation about his absence involving a lie about getting help at a psychiatric hospital that isn’t really a lie considering where they had ended up whilst trying to balance their scales but he made sure to leave that part out. He tells them what feels like a thousand time that he’s ok, “all better now mate, no more destroying museum property. No sir. Not little old me. My loo destroying day are a thing of the past. Ancient history.” Maybe they feel sorry for him or are just terrified that what Marc did to the toilet will happen to the office if they say no but Steven miraculously gets his job back and not two days letter he’s back behind the desk, restocking magnets and stuffing little wire basket with cuddly toys whilst wondering what the actual god they’re based off are like.

Nothings really changed. Donna is still kind of rude and still calls him Stevie even though he has corrected her a thousand times before. After the first couple of tries go ignored Steven stops trying to correct her, shrinking back into his meek and nerves self from before. Marc helpfully suggests to start calling her Donnie and ignoring her when she corrects him and though Steven does entertain the thought he’s to much of a nice person to be intentionally rude like that. He flat out ignores the tiny whisper in the back of his mind that suggests he smash her head against the closest hard service next time she does it. J.B is still watching stupid animal videos on his phone instead of the security monitors, only managing to glance Steven’s way when he had come rushing in on his first day back, eyeing him wearily like he was waiting from him to start smashing stuff up again and rambling like a mad man.

Life goes on, boring and kind of anticlimactic after everything he had been through but there is one thing that breaks up the long slog of his days selling overpriced tat to tourists and school kids.

The first time he see you it’s like he had been in the shadows all his life and was glimpsing the sun for the first time. It’s almost to much, makes his eyes sting when he sees you smile bright and oh so beautiful. Then there’s your laugh, clear and light and carrying across the room like bells. Donna catches him staring, snapping her fingers in front of Steven’s face and startling him out of his stupor. She’s quick to tell him to keep dreaming, that you’re so far out of his league you ain’t even in the same galaxy. Steven knows she’s right, knows that someone like you would never look his way for any other reason then to look round him but that doesn’t stop him from looking at you, tracking you across the room as you lead your tour group with confidence and smiles.

It doesn’t take him long to find out your name or the fact that you had joined the museum just a few weeks after he had started working there again. Marc had been the one to do a little more digging though, finding out that you had been working at the Cairo museum beforehand as a researcher and for a private collector out in Athens before that. You were clearly overqualified to be working as a tour guide but as Donna had pointed out, it’s what you applied for and the museum had been silly not to have snapped you up. Marc couldn’t find a reason as to why you had left Cairo other than wanting a change and Steven had been quick to brush off his suspicion, still naively believing the best in people despite everything that he had been through.

Despite how taken he is with you Steven doesn’t actually talk to you, just watches from behind his counter as you breeze into the room, always smiling as you talk your tour group through the last part of the tour. The whole time you’re in Steven’s line of sight he’s spell bound, fixated by your beauty and enthusiasm. You remind him of that actress in those mummy films that had been so popular back in the early 2000s, beautiful in that classic bookish way and endearingly passionate. You speak with your hands, using them to emphasise words and paint a picture of a time long since past. Your passionate, clearly knowledgeable and excited to be sharing it with others, even if they didn’t share your same level of enthusiasm. Steven though, he could listen to you for hours, had imagined many a conversation between the two of you that lasted well into the early hours, just basking in the way you talk about times long since passed.

It’s pathetic, he knows that. He’s half way in love with you and yet you had never spoken a word to one another. Steven was sure that you didn’t even know that he existed, never once having even looked his way. Marc tries to encourage him to introduce himself, to take advantage of those few moments when you’re all alone after sending your tour group off to explore the gift shop. Steven can’t though, brushing of Marc’s awkward and slightly aggressive pep talks with his own brand of awkwardness and self doubt. He knew that if he could Marc would have taken control of the body ages ago and asked you out himself, all confidence and rogue charm that had women swooning over him but they had a deal. The museum was Steven’s territory and whilst he was at work Marc wasn’t allowed to rear his annoyingly chiselled face. Not unless it was a life or death emergency and asking a pretty girl out to dinner was not a life or death emergency despite how much the other man insisted it was because it involved the death of any hope Steven had at actually having a social life.

So life went on. Steven worked three days a week at the gift shop and Marc had three days to do his, well, whatever it was that he did when he was in control and then that left one day of free space for them to either flit between the two of them or if that allusive sinister voice in the back of both of their minds wanted to make an appearance. It never did and Steven often spent the day pottering about the flat whilst Marc would spend his time working out much to Steven chagrin.

Days turned to weeks with nothing out of the ordinary happening. It was mundane, normal and completely boring if Steven was being honest. The only bit of excitement in his life were the few precious minutes at work when you breezed into his line of sight and stole all his attention. You were like the morning sun, breaking through the dreary grey and deep blues of the night sky and bathing the world in your light, chasing away the darkness and making everything feel warm and bright. Alive. Well that’s what Steven thought any way. His life was dull and grey but when he saw you he felt warm, bathed in your light and he would swear that in those few minutes it was like every ache and pain had been soothed, his perpetual tiredness vanishing and he was left feeling refreshed and alive. But then you would call your group to attention, moving them on to the next room, the next story and everything would come rushing back. The world seemed dimmer when you weren’t around, like the colour had been drained out of his surroundings leaving Steven feeling cold and shockingly aware of just how empty and meaningless his life actually was.

Marc was no help, urging Steven to snap out of it or actually do something because he couldn’t stand the pining and self deprecation anymore because “really Steven? You’re starting to make me feel depressed now and I have enough shit going on without adding your issues on top of it”. Steven decides to ignore him, purposely staying out of Marc’s reflections when the other man has control of the body, buried as deep as he can comfortably get until he’s forcibly yanked forward once it’s his time to be driving again. It’s harder to ignore him like this though, everything super modern and ridiculously shinny. Steven knows he’s not being mean on purpose but it eventually gets to much for him and Steven snapped, yelling at Marc to stop because he “can’t bloody take it any more,” and “it’s so easy for you but not me. Not stupid, weird Steven whose not even bloody real.” He must look like a right looney, demanding that his own reflection shut the hell up and leave him alone.

Marc stops then. Doesn’t bring you up or anything to do with Steven developing a social life. Steven doesn’t either, even going as far as to force himself not to look when he hears your voice carrying across the large room. Things are awkward and tense between him and Marc, stilted and absurdly polite in a way they never had been before. Steven’s life seems to lose all colour and warmth, the world grey and cold around him as summer starts to come to an end and autumn begins to creep in. To make things worse he and Marc both start blacking out. The last time Steven hade come to two days after he had gone to sleep in some back ally in Prague hands covered in blood and no idea what the hell was going on. It’s only Marc’s quick thinking and commanding confidence that keep Steven from having a rather minor yet catastrophic breakdown there and then. As it is that happens once the former mercenary has gotten them back home safe and sound, the flat door firmly shut and locked as the two of them try to work out exactly what happened. Admittedly Steven’s a little more manic and scared then Marc but Steven can see his worry in the way he paces, hands shoved through his hair and shoulders tense.

Steven calls off sick that week, rambling about having a cold and not wanting to pass it on until Donna cuts him off with an annoyed “fine ” and puts the phone down on him. They spend the week trying to piece things together, trying to get the other personality that’s hiding within the body to show themselves but nothing they do works and after a rather angry and aggressive shouting match that had him and Marc rapidly switching control they finally give up, conceding the fact that the other alter would only show themselves when they were good and ready. They do go back to cuffing themselves to the bed again, combination lock and all but considering that hadn’t worked with Marc Steven’s not at all confident that it will work with this other alter.

They’re still tense though, both of them worried about what’s lurking deep in the recesses of their shared mind but they know that unless they become shut ins there isn’t much they can do so weary and more jumpy than normal Steven goes back to work, Marc promising to be on the lookout. For what Steven isn’t really sure but he’s grateful for it any way. Underneath all that gruff indifference and macho army man-ness Marc is a protector and Steven knows he would do his darn best to make sure Steven was safe.

He had to have a meeting when he goes back with someone from HR. He eyes Steven with suspicion, wanting to know about his mental state and if his sudden time off was because he was having some sort of relapse. Steven just laughed nervously, fidgeting in his chair and word vomiting over the man whilst Marc hissed for him to “shut up before you end up jobless and with an actual shrink knocking at the dammed door”. He manages to get through the uncomfortable ten minute conversation without making to much of an idiot of himself and he’s sent on his way with a stern warning about his attendance and tardiness. It doesn’t take Donna long to make a comment about Steven still having his job and he just about keeps Marc in cheek, stoping him from telling the women to shut up or not having a job would be the least of her worries.

Steven’s day just gets worse from there. A kid knocks over a whole stand of Egyptian themed stationary that Donna has Steven down on his hands and knees to find every last blasted pencil and rubber that had rolled under the other stands. Then he has to deal with a German tourist who doesn’t speak English seemingly at all and was refusing to part with the twenty quid needed to pay for the little model of the Great Pyramid of Giza he had picked out because he was insisting a tenner would be enough. Everyone who comes through is just plain old rude, looking down on Steven and his rather lacklustre attitude. The day drags on and soon enough Steven is fantasising about going home and just curling in on himself and letting Marc take over things while he just wallows in the knowledge of how pathetic his life is.

But then the unimaginable happens and Steven’s day suddenly take a turn that he would never have expected.

Steven’s to busy trying to get an irate mum to pay for the chocolate bar her kid had opened to spare you more than a quick glance when you come in, a group of bored looking school kids following along behind and looking like they would rather be anywhere else. By the time the women had handed over the couple of quid and stormed off in a huff Steven’s practically forgotten you were even in the room, mumbling under his breath about how rude people are and how they should teach their kids to behave better whilst angrily tidying the shelves of books and posters behind him. Marc hissed his name, urgent and annoying in the back of his mind but Steven ignores him. That is until he does it again and again, sounding more annoyed with every word until Steven is spinning round to glare at his reflection in the counter and snapping out an angry “what?” as he went. Except it isn’t Marc’s scowling face that greets him.

His eyes go wide, voice leaving him as he looks at you with a mix of horror and surprise. In his head Marc’s groaning and Steven can see him throw his hands up and turn away in the counter top, shaking his head as he did so but Steven’s to busy panicking to give it much thought. He can’t believe he did that. Can’t believe that the very first words that he had said to you was an angry demand to know what you wanted when in reality he was yelling at annoying American man who lived in his body. Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Bloody hell. You probably thought he was a right weirdo. Rude and aggressive. Probably would try and get away from him as quickly as possible and never come near him again. He would deserve it, wouldn’t even try and force his apology on you once you had gone.

Apology!

He should apologise, should explain himself before you were gone for good but it wasn’t like he could tell you he had actually been yelling at the other personally that shared his body. You would think him a right looney, more so than you probably already did. Oh hell, this was just getting worse and worse and Marc telling him to “breath Steven. You gotta calm down. It’s gonna be fine you just gotta stop before you have a panic attack. Steven? Steven listen to me,” wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Steven starts spluttering out a rather pathetic attempt to apologise but he trips over his words, not making any sense because he can’t even get a whole word out before cutting himself off. It’s a car crash. One of those terrible things that you just can’t look away from but Steven desperately wishes he could because with every excruciating second that passes he’s just digging his hole deeper and deeper and he had no idea how to fix any of this.

The shock at being addressed so rudely fades and soon enough you’re smiling softly and reassuringly at him. Steven sucks in a breath, his rambling coming to a sudden stop as the early afternoon sun shone in through the high up windows and cut across you, making it look like you were backlight with a golden glow. You were beautiful and soft, warm and calming and he was so taken with your almost otherworldly appearance Steven completely missed you speaking to him, your softly spoken “it’s ok. I’m sorry for interrupting you,” going unnoticed as he tried to commit every little thing about you to memory. It was only his hand suddenly slipped from the counter top and sending Steven jerking forward that finally snapped him from his day dream, an act that he was sure was Marc’s doing considering the pointed look he was giving him from the small mirror above the jewellery stand on the counter as he jerked his head towards you.

Steven was a stammering mess as he turned his attention back to you, laughing nervously as he yammered pointlessly on about the counter being slippery and his poor reflexes until him finally managed to get himself under control but what come out was a rather awkward and slightly cheery “hello” that had Steven only just managing to hold in a wince. Marc did no such thing, groaning loudly and burying his face in his hands. The action didn’t stop Steven from being able to hear his mumbling though, the other man questioning how Steven had ever managed to get laid. If they had been alone Steven would have pointed out that just because he was a bit of a mess didn’t mean he was completely incompetent just, you know, the opportunity to prove that didn’t come around that often. And anyway, the last time he had had a date it had only gone so wrong because of Marc. None of that had been Steven’s fault. He wasn’t the one who ran off looking for some bloody mystical scarab that had made Steven miss his date by two whole days.

They weren’t alone though so Steven tried his best to ignore the other man and smiled shakily at you waiting for you to say something. He had been expecting you to give him a funny look, tell him something needed restocking or had been broken or both knowing his luck and then disappear back to your tour group, never to look at Steven again. Really it was more then he ever thought he would get and at least now he knew you smelt as good as you looked, unable to stop himself from taking a deep breath as he leant forward slightly. Yeah he knew it was a little creepy, thank you Marc but you smelt like sunshine and papaya with the unmistakable sweetness of vanilla that would probably haunt his dreams for a while.

What he hadn’t been expecting was the fond look you gave him, eyes alight with amusement as you answered his complete lunacy with an almost teasing “hi Steven”. He was sure he stoped breathing, his heart stuttering in his chest as he was struck by the undeniable truth that you knew his name even though the two of you had never interacted before. And yeah, Steven had already known your name but he was crushing on you harder than a carbon deposit about to become a diamond so of course he knew your name but there was no way in this universe or any other for that fact that you would feel that way towards him. Like Donna had said, you were way out of his realm of possibility and women like you didn’t go for the shy, awkward, nerdy type despite what modern day media wanted everyone to think.

The next few minutes were so surreal that Steven wasn’t so sure that he wasn’t dreaming. You wanted to know how he was, having noticed his absence the past week. Steven had only just managed to pick his jaw up of the floor to answer, still in shock as he gave you the same semi rambling answer he had given the HR person. There had been noticeable relief in your eyes when he had said it was simply a cold, “nothing that a bit of the old Vicks VapoRub and a lot of honey and lemon couldn’t fix”. You had been glad that he was feeling better and was back at work, saying how the place had “just seemed a little empty and lonely without you here”. It was at that point Steven became almost 100% sure he was dreaming but not even in his dreams had you made him feel as wanted as he did in that moment.

He had barely gotten out a dazed “am I dreaming?” before you were saying your goodbyes, having to get back to your tour group that was getting a little to boisterous near the display of glass pyramids. You didn’t wait for Steven to say anything, giving him a smile and a promise to talk latter before you were turning away, calling your tour groups attention and leading them from the room and onto discover more about the worlds that had come before. Steven could only stand there in shock, lifting his hand slightly to wave even though you were already gone and whispering an absentminded “laters gators” to the last lingering phantom of your strange and sudden appearance.

[scribbuluswrites]

The Collector

And now for something completely different! This is a little ditty I wrote from a Halloween prompt. The idea just took hold and thus began an affair with Death. 

Thanks for reading and hope you guys enjoy!

The town was practically buzzing with excitement. Everyone was keyed up and afraid for their lives, unable to calm their nerves long enough to stem the constant chattering. They had to talk; they had to gossip. It was their only outlet. 

“Did you hear?” the stock boy whispered, eyes giant as he helped roll pallets off the truck. He was as green as humans could be, shaken by the number of things gone wrong in town.

“Which one?” the delivery driver replied, his face ashen as he thought about the possibilities. He managed to push the dolly across the loading bay, but he looked like he could be sick at any moment. 

“Just this week there were three more,” the store manager chimed in, deep purple bags under his eyes as he verified the delivery list. No one had enjoyed a decent nights’ sleep since everything started changing.

***

Ana stirred, rolling over on the couch. She had been sleeping in her grandmother’s apartment for a few weeks now, doing her best to take care of her during the final days. 

She thought she heard a noise, but as she opened her eyes, the apartment was still dark. Ana held still, listening carefully. There was silence. 

Sighing, she started to snuggle back into the pillows. Faintly, there was a voice drifting down the hallway from her grandmother’s room. Ana’s eyes shot open, but she stayed perfectly still. 

The voice began speaking again. Ana couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was comforting, soothing. It made her want to close her eyes and go back to sleep, suddenly overcome with a peaceful feeling. 

Fighting it, she crept out of her makeshift bed. Her socks muffled her steps, allowing her to move almost silently down the hall towards the bedroom. 

There was a hooded figure sitting on its knees at her grandmother’s bedside. Ana watched quietly, shocked at how unafraid she felt of the stranger in the apartment. The thing pushed the hood back, revealing itself to be a man. 

A very handsome man, she thought, her eyes taking in his golden skin and deep brown curls. Everything about him had an otherworldly glow in the moonlight streaming in through the window. 

He was still speaking softly. The man gently traced his thumb over the elderly woman’s forehead. The little crease between her brows relaxed and her expression went slack, as though she was totally comfortable in that moment. 

An orb of glowing blue light rose from her parted lips. The man closed his hand around it, briefly closing his eyes. 

Ana felt the quickest flash of icy cold, and when he opened his palm once more, the orb was gone. She gasped, realising what had happened. 

The man’s head snapped up, his dark eyes focusing on her. Ana didn’t feel afraid despite knowing she should. 

When she blinked, he had vanished. She stared at the empty spot by her grandmother’s bed, wondering where he had just gone. Ana stepped into the room, crossing it quickly to poke her head out the window. He had left it open. 

To her surprise, the man was outside on the fire escape. He looked even more surprised to see her in return. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, cocking her head. 

“I’m... “ he started, the calm, dulcet tone replaced by a slightly deeper, heavily accented voice. “I’m new,” he admitted, physically cringing as she grinned. 

“Come back inside,” she urged, glancing back into the apartment. Her expression fell as her eyes looked over her grandmother. 

“She’s not in pain.” 

Ana nodded, not meeting his glance. “I know, I’ll just miss her.” 

“I will stay, but only for a moment,” he conceded, following her back into the apartment. Out of a deeper compulsion, he put his arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the still figure lying in bed. 

“Would you like some tea?” she murmured, feeling comforted by him. 

“I can’t drink it, but I would like to watch you make some,” he said softly, letting her go as they neared the kitchen. “I’m Alex, by the way,” he mentioned, taking a seat on the couch. He cringed again. “Don’t introduce yourself,” he chastised under his breath, briefly shaking his head. 

“Ana, and I promise not to tell anyone Death is named Alex,” she chuckled, distracting herself with the kettle. “Do you always appear so…” Ana paused, gesturing vaguely towards him with her hand. 

“So?” Alex echoed. 

“Handsome,” she finished, her cheeks flushed. 

Alex wanted to smile. Ana was very pretty. Death was not supposed to be noticed by the living, though. His human form was merely to blend, not to pretend anything human could be experienced. 

Ana walked back into the living room, sitting on the couch next to him. She clutched her tea in both hands, suddenly conscious of how quiet Alex had gone. 

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, the quiet only broken by the sound of Ana taking a few sips of her drink. She knew she had said the wrong thing, but what she didn't know was why Alex was still here. 

“Alex?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her eyes on her hands. He didn’t say anything, but she knew he was listening. “Is it better? Wherever you take them?” 

“Of course,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Ana let herself break down for just a moment, burying her face against his neck. Alex closed his eyes, breathing deeply. This would be his last hug for a very long time, and he wanted to savour every moment. 

When Ana opened her eyes again, Alex was gone. She pressed her hand to her cheek, the faintest tingle from the brush of his lips still there. It was the only trace Death had left behind. 

A few weeks later, Ana was sitting at the train station. It had been a very long day at work, and now her train had been delayed nearly an hour, leaving her sitting in the cold. It was miserable. 

On top of her current predicament, she had been in a perpetual bad mood for days. She was starting to miss Alex a little bit more each day. Her brain knew she wouldn’t see him again, but her emotions wanted him close by. 

She absently turned the page of her book, going through the motions more than actually reading at this point. Her mind was definitely elsewhere. 

Further down the platform, she heard a scream. People began rushing towards the opposite end, and Ana followed after them, curious about all the commotion. 

“Someone call an ambulance!” someone shrieked. Another bystander opened their arms, nearly pulling Ana into a hug. She sidestepped, carefully directing them to another crying person. 

“She jumped,” a man gasped, tears in his eyes. “We were arguing, and she just jumped.” Ana stepped a little closer, glimpsing a familiar face at the edge of the platform. He jumped off to help someone trying to move the stricken body. 

Ana caught the smooth movement of his hand as he passed it over her forehead. The dead woman’s face went slack, her eyes slipping closed peacefully. 

Ana extended her hand, and Alex grasped it as he climbed back onto the tall platform. He barely glanced at her, doing a double take as he recognized her face. 

“Ana,” he grinned, keeping his hold on her hand as he wove through the crowd. In all the chaos, no one even glanced at them. 

“Hello, Alex,” she replied, whispering his name. He chuckled. 

“How have you been?” She could feel the struggle he was going through. Alex clearly wanted to stay and talk to her, but he kept shifting his weight like he needed to leave. 

“I’ve been missing Death, so I’m ok-ish,” Ana answered, smiling. “Want to watch me drink some coffee? Mix it up a bit?” she teased. Alex ducked his head. 

“I really shouldn’t. I’m not supposed to spend a lot of time here. Once people really look at me, they’ll see me more easily,” he explained, realising he was still holding her hand. He let go, taking a step back. 

“I work just a few blocks from here. I have my own office and access to a fancy coffee maker,” she offered, hoping he would accept. Alex looked around. No one was looking at them. 

“I can’t stay long.” Ana grinned proudly, nodding. 

“I drink fast.” 

Alex walked home, feeling more human than he had in a century. Even the fog and craggy rocks didn’t feel nearly as dark and oppressive tonight. Despite the pitch black sky, Alex felt like his world had a bright shining beacon. 

“You took a very long time.” Alex stopped in his tracks, turning around slowly to face his brother. “Just one soul shouldn’t have taken you almost two hours.” 

“There was a massive crowd. It took much longer than I thought to actually get through them to the body. I didn’t want to draw attention,” Alex lied. There wasn’t a breeze here, but his cloak still waved, giving the impression of a gentle wind ruffling the hem. 

“Don’t lie to me, baby brother,” Marc chastised. Only his eyes were visible with his hood pulled up, but Alex could perfectly picture the frown that would have been on Marc’s human face. “You can’t have a life on the surface.” 

“I know,” Alex growled, his bony hand tightening on his scythe. He didn’t need Marc reminding him of how pointless his feelings were. Alex knew his role. 

“Alex,” Marc began, stopping when his brother turned away from him. Marc sighed, knowing better than to follow Alex. They didn’t often fight, only when Marc tried to remind Alex of his place. He knew how much his younger brother hated the lectures. 

Alex closed the curtain around his little area. It was as close to a room as anyone managed down here. The black velvet provided a little privacy, but the windows were still open, devoid of any panes. 

He sat down on the bench at the edge of his ‘bed’. Death didn’t need to sleep, but there were still times that laying down felt comforting, restful even. It reminded him of the human life he had once had.

With his hood still up, Alex’s fingers were bone. All of the flesh vanished in his proper Death robe. Despite the lack of skin, he could still feel the phantom sensation of Ana’s hair between his fingers. 

His face was gone, replaced by the coal black bones of his reaper form. Where his lips had been, he could still taste her kisses. It was a strange thing having two forms. Even without any of the human senses he possessed in his other self, Alex was certain he could still smell her, feel her. 

“Ana!” She jumped, nearly dropping the vial in her hand. 

“Don’t do that, Marina,” Ana complained, holding her empty hand to her chest. “I almost ruined this.” She gently stirred the boiling contents in her cauldron. The blue liquid slowly changed colours, lightening to an unappetising greyish blue as she stirred in the oil. Despite it’s looks, it smelled like the most delicious lemon cake, bright and zesty. 

“You’re not usually so distracted. I have to take some advantage,” Marina replied, grinning at her friend. They had been brewing together for nearly ten years, and she had never once caught Ana off guard. “What’s his name?” she guessed, her smile wicked as Ana blushed. 

“Who’s name?” she asked, feigning ignorance. 

“You have a secret fella!” Marina crowed, looking quite pleased with herself. “You have to tell me everything.” Ana frowned, keeping her eyes on the potion. “What’s his name? How’d you meet? How long have you been sneaking around? Does he know you’re a witch?” Marina fired off question after question. 

“His name is Alex, alright?” Ana finally cracked, knowing the endless stream of questions would continue until she did. “None of the rest matters because I don’t think I’ll see him again.” She tried to keep her expression neutral, not wanting to admit how disappointed she was. It had only been a month, but she hadn’t stopped thinking about Alex and the half hour she had convinced him to drag into an hour together. 

“Oh, c’mon. We could always brew up something to see where he’s at. Arrange an accidental run in?” Marina suggested, toying with the edge of the spellbook. 

“No.” Ana’s tone was final, but inside, she wondered if it would be possible. Would the spell show her Death in his lair? Or, would it show her someone who was on the verge of dying? 

“I’ll leave a few ingredients just in case you want to give it a whirl after I leave,” she replied, partially ignoring the answer. 

Alex felt the pull of another soul on the verge. It was a gentle pulse where his stomach should have been. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation behind his naval tug him through his world and into the one of the living. 

His feet landed silently on the ground in a dark alleyway. He’d learned long ago how to sense the living and avoid them on his initial arrival. From here, he’d just let himself wander, inevitably finding his way to the soul in need. 

Glancing up and down the street, he stepped out, satisfied that no one was nearby. He slipped his hood down just before the first streetlamp hit him, not wanting to be seen with his cloak and scythe. 

Alex ruffled his hair, taking a moment to look at his fingers. His human hands didn’t feel quite so foreign any more. He slipped the ballpoint pen into his pocket, glad his scythe transformed much more easily now. It had taken a lot of practice to get it right. 

He breathed out a huge sigh as he reached the correct building, disappointed to see the blue light hovering just outside a window on the tenth floor. Climbing was his least favourite activity. 

The window was open, though, and he slipped into the apartment silently. He hovered over the still form of an elderly man, moving his hand over his forehead. Pain slipped from the man’s face, and he looked calm. Alex wrapped his hand around the orb of light, passing this soul along to the next place. 

He started to turn around when a figure in the doorway caught his attention. Ana was standing perfectly still, leaning against the frame. 

“How did you…” he trailed off, sensing something wasn’t quite right. 

“Mr. Collins asked for help along,” she admitted, gesturing towards the now-deceased man. 

“You helped him die?” Alex asked, unable to wrap his head around this development. She nodded slowly, stepping back towards the hall. 

“Sometimes people come to me when they’re in pain. I usually pass them along to someone else, but it occurred to me, I could accomplish two things this time.” Ana led him down the hallway and out into the kitchen. It felt strange being in this apartment. She was caught between her happiness at seeing Alex once more and the sadness of having provided poison to someone. “Would you walk me home? It’s not far, and I doubt anyone is out at this hour.” Alex made no move towards her. He looked upset. “I’m sorry. I’ll just go,” she said softly, turning quickly. 

“I’ll walk you home this once, but we can’t make a habit of this,” Alex told her, his long strides bringing him to her side quickly. Ana nodded solemnly, careful not to look up at him. Alex twined his fingers with hers, letting his emotions get the better of him. 

***

The young woman looked around nervously. She hadn’t been to this part of town before. It felt a little unwelcoming, but she also knew that this was the only shop in Lleida that sold these kinds of things. 

She crossed the street, verifying the address her friend had texted. This was the right place. 

She buzzed apartment 7C, glad to hear the door unlock almost immediately. Moving quickly through the lobby, she took the stairs two at a time. 

“Hello!” 

The woman looked up, pleasantly surprised to see someone waiting for her. There was always something awkward about knocking on a stranger’s door. 

“I’m Belle, and you must be Christina,” the stranger greeted, gesturing for the girl to come inside. 

“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you from Marina. She said you’ve been working together for a while.” 

Belle nodded. “Marina’s much better with divination, but potions are my specialty,” she replied with a warm smile. “She mentioned you were looking for a Notice Me concoction.” 

“I know it sounds silly, but…” 

“Nonsense. It’s just a head turn, really. Your intended will finally look at you, but it won’t change the outcome. That’s still up to you,” Belle reassured, moving around the cauldron. It bubbled and steamed, emitting a soft bubblegum scent. 

Christina took the small vial Belle held out, studying the pink liquid inside. It shimmered in the light, bringing a grin to her face. 

“It looks so girly,” she giggled, reaching into her purse to pull out 20 euro. “Thank you for this.” 

“Of course. Are you planning to take it soon?” Belle asked, her voice friendly. Christina didn’t at all suspect her motives. 

“Probably tonight,” Christina replied with a grin, blushing. “My friends are having a party down at Carballeira. I think he’ll be there.” 

“Wonderful food, relaxed company. Sounds like a great time,” Belle commented, smiling brightly. “Have a good time.” 

Christina stood outside the Mediterranean restaurant, mentally psyching herself up. She had seen her crush though the window, and he looked very good tonight. 

“You got this,” she murmured, uncorking the potion. Christina downed it in one gulp, taking a second to lean against the wall. She was standing just out of sight of the restaurant, not wanting anyone to see her take the Notice Me. It wasn’t strictly legal. 

She looked up, hearing footsteps approaching. Christina’s eyebrows knit together, unable to fully comprehend. 

“Belle?” 

“Hello, again,” she said softly, walking past her and further into the dark alley. 

“What are you doing here?” Christina asked, her stomach sinking as she realised Belle had followed her here. 

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Belle muttered, pacing in front of her. 

“What…” Christina broke off, grabbing at her throat. It felt like it was closing up. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to take a breath. 

“Are you in pain?” Belle had paused her walking, stopping to look at Christina. “I’ll need to adjust for that. Maybe some numbing of the mind or drowsiness before the lung paralysis.”

Christina wanted to scream. She could feel her pulse weakening, and the edges of her vision were beginning to dim. 

Another person appeared in the alley with them. The figure was very tall and shrouded in black. It had bony hands wrapped around a scythe, its skeleton black like charcoal. 

“Belle,” Christina rasped, collapsing onto the ground. Panic overtook her as she realised the man was Death. She crawled a few feet before her entire body went limp. 

“Why did she call you Belle?” the figure asked, pushing its hood back. 

Christina expected to see a skull, but instead, he looked like a very attractive young man. He had tanned skin and dark, curly hair. They were obviously familiar with each other.

“That’s what I go by for work.” 

“Ana,” he sighed, shaking his head. “She looks terrified. You have to let them sleep first. It’s much harder this way,” he chastised. Belle - Ana, she corrected mentally, stepped up to him. She absently ran her fingers over the lapels of his newly appeared suit. 

“I just missed you,” she whispered, looking up through her lashes. Death relented, placing his hands on Ana’s cheeks and kissing her soundly. 

Christina’s stomach lurched as she watched them. She had been lured in and killed by a woman enamoured with Death. Ana had used her to bring him to the surface world. 

The man approached Christina, kneeling in front of her. She wanted to cry for help or try to fight, but she couldn’t feel her body any longer. Her eyes were wide with horror, the only part of her body she was still able to move. 

“I’m sorry for your pain, but it is the only way,” he said softly, smoothing his thumb over her forehead. Christina felt the last of her life gently eased away. This part, at least, felt just like falling asleep.

***

Alex didn’t even bother feeling conflicted any more. He still gave his all when it came to ferrying the souls across, but he made sure to land on the living plane running. 

Along with his pull to the souls in need, Alex could feel something drawing him to Ana now. This sensation was where his heart used to be, and he let himself believe it was a sign that he could still feel. 

This was becoming a routine. Marc also knew this, but he had been careful not to push his brother away with chastisements and lectures. As long as Alex was doing his duty properly and respectfully, Marc was going to give him a bit of space to make this mistake. 

“Ana,” Alex breathed, his tone reverent as he stepped through the door. She had started renting hotel rooms close to whomever had approached her for an elixir to end their suffering. It was macabre, but they both ignored it, too lost in each other to give it much thought. 

“I know we said no more than once a month, but I couldn’t…” Her words were lost in his kiss, Alex unable to restrain himself any longer. If she hadn’t been approached, he would have risked crossing the entire city to see her. The time apart was becoming more unbearable. 

“As long as it isn’t too often,” he whispered back, hands already working on the button of her jeans. Alex knew she was starting to kill more than just the ones looking for an end to their suffering, but he was too enthralled by her to beg her to stop.

“Once a week, tops,” she agreed, letting her head fall back as his hands slid her trousers down her legs. 

The sky outside was beginning to brighten, the sun taking the horizon from deep indigo to Aegean. Ana hated this part of the day, wishing the night could drag on for a few more hours. She rolled to face Alex, unsurprised to see him watching her. 

She tossed an arm over his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Alex linked his arms tightly around her, kissing the top of her head. He took a long breath, inhaling the scent of her shampoo deeply. It needed to leave a lingering trace on his senses. 

“Ana,” he started, his voice muffled in her hair. 

“No,” she replied flatly, burrowing deeper against him. He sighed, trying to gently pull her away from his side. “No, I don’t want to hear it. Every time you tell me this can’t happen again, that you can’t ever come back.”

“And I mean it every time. I have to mean it,” he said back, finally scooting away so he could look at her face. “Ana, this can’t…” 

“I know,” she interrupted, eyes pleading. “Just leave. Leave, and let me pretend that I’ll see you again. Let me keep my fantasy that you love me, too.” Ana covered her mouth. That was never supposed to come out.

“No one loves Death.” Alex’s voice was shaky. No one had used that word with him in centuries. Even Marc had stopped saying such things, completely given over to the emptiness in their new form. 

“I love you, Alex.”

Morning was fast approaching, but Alex couldn’t pull himself away this time. He would never give up this feeling; this faint, imagined heartbeat. 

“I’ll stay a little longer,” he whispered, rolling over. Alex looked down at her, grinning at the hunger in her eyes. His hands skimmed up her body, pulling her wrists above her head. “You belong to me, now,” he pronounced, pressing desperate kisses to each side of her neck. 

“There’s a reason the French call orgasms la petite mort,” she grinned, gasping as he shifted against her. 

“Death comes for you, love,” he teased back, losing his own thoughts as she rolled her hips. 

***

“Hello, dear,” the old woman greeted, hand still raised to knock on the front door. Ana smiled at her, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion. “I saw moving boxes and thought I’d be neighborly. Welcome to Barcelona. It’s a big city, but I like to pretend we’re all neighbors.” 

“That’s very kind of you,” Ana replied, dusting off her hands before shaking the elderly woman’s in introduction. “Do you live across the hall?” 

“No, I’m down two floors. I’ll be going to an assisted living community next month, but I still like to think of myself as the welcome wagon,” the woman said proudly. “No one else seems to be very chatty around here.” Ana visibly relaxed. That was exactly what she looked for in an apartment building. “Where are you moving from?” 

“Lleida.” The woman frowned. 

“Well, I’m glad you made it out of there! They had a lot of mysterious deaths recently. I heard something about a witch, but I don’t put stock in such myths,” the woman continued, glancing past Ana into the apartment. Ana pushed her cauldron out of view with her heel. 

“What a silly thing to believe in,” she chuckled in agreement. 

“Is it just you, dear?” The elderly woman had once again leaned past Ana, looking into the apartment. She might be too curious for her own good. 

“For the most part. My boyfriend lives here, but he keeps the oddest hours,” Ana chuckled. “Would you like to come in for some tea?” 

It took almost six months before anyone realised people had been going missing in town. There was a faint trace of poison in the first victim, but none of the rest showed even the slightest sign of toxicity. 

Ana’s careful selections allowed her and Alex nearly two years in Barcelona. After that, they spent less time picking out a ‘long term’ home, and just enjoyed traveling the world together. 

Alex spent years being proud of Ana’s potion brewing. She could make the most untraceable venoms. She also had a knack for making them entirely painless. 

[justm3h]

Plot - Triskaidekaphobia

Summary: Marco has lived many lives. Lives as a civilian, lives with the Marines, lives as a pirate and the smallest butterfly effect makes each adventure new. But each death has him waking up after eating the first fruit of his life.

Another chance, another life.

One more shot to make things right.

Characters: Marco the Phoenix, Monkey D. Garp, Bell-mere, Donquiote “Corazon” Rosicante, Coby, Gol D. Roger, Silvers Rayleigh, Shanks, Benn Beckman, Makino, Monkey D. Luffy, Edward Newgate, Thatch, Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Ace, Sabo, Monkey D.Dragon, Buggy, Straw Hat Crew, Kureha, Nico Olvia, Marshall D. Teach, Trafalgar D. Water Law

Pairing: Rouge/Roger, slight Makino/Shanks but mostly Gen

1-8

The first life Marco lives is boring and normal. He passes peacefully, a respected but simple village doctor, flames flicker even as he’s eyes fall shut for the last time. Only for that not to be true, as he opens them once again to hands the size of a child and not an old man.

The second life he travels the South Blue. He wants to see what the sea has to offer him and he makes friends and learns so much. He dies this time by drowning, and decides he doesn’t like it very much.

The third time, he starts figuring things out. Each death has him wake up right after eating the worst tasting fruit of his life. He’s grown use to the blue flames that heal and the obsession with cinnamon but the healing is a gift enough.

Marco travels further, learning skills of a sailor. He enjoys navigating the most, for the stars are the only thing that seem to be consistent with every redo.

His third adventure ends, accidentally being eaten in the calm belt. Another mistake he swears to Never Make Again.

The fourth one comes and he realizes he needs to learn how to fight and joins the Marines.

He’s not very good at first, more often than not, he fumbles and fails and it stuck in a lower position for some time. He only hears later of the Summit War and even then it’s just boring news that doesn’t matter on the blues.

One drowning later and Marco becomes a Marine again on count 5. His ‘talent’ is noticed. He’s sent to the Grandline and trains with other fresh recruits. He is in awe as he catches sight of the admirals and of the legendary hero Garp. The Marines try to figure out what fruit he ate but have as much luck as he has in the past. He makes it as far as Captain before dying tragically protecting his men.

6 and 7 are much the same. Joins the Marines and is satisfied with the rank of Captain. He enjoys having the spunky Bell-mere under his tutelage til she is transferred and quit soon after. Marco enjoys seeing Rosicante grow from a brat he babysat to a fine Marine although still a walking disaster.

Marco always takes different posts and assignments, never wanting to have the confusion of knowing something he shouldn’t. It doesn’t stop him from befriending a few of the same people over and over again, but those are just some binds he’s not willing to let go.

But 5 to 7 are also where Marco really starts to notice something wrong with the world. He never noticed on the Blues, too isolated from the Grandline and the Red to pay much mind to it.

There was corruption, Marines taking bribes or turning a blind eye to the pleadings of the people who begged for help. The admirals were bias, unable to get pasted their own convictions to just help.

It caused Bell-mere to leave and Rosicante’s death.

It hurt.

8 seems to hurt the most. He was put under the care of Garp. He learned so much about the Vice Admiral, Garp yelled about his brat grandkids and Fists of Love were a daily occurrence. Regardless of his violence, Garp was what the Marines should have been. Heroes. Marco could see it in the boy and his friend that Garp adopted, made all too clear when the pink haired boy jumped in front of a cannon.

He and Bogard would watch from a distance as the two chore boys trained. Fought for the right to be Marines. Bogard taught Helmeppo, the tall blond better with blades, while Marco taught Coby the basics of hand to hand til Garp took over their training.

Marco always made sure to patch the young men up at the end of the day, a doctors work never done, even after they picked a fight with Garp’s grandson.

“Dumb Brats,” he joking at Garp as he checks over Coby and Helmeppo after their fight.

Marco got a good look at Garp’s grandson, Monkey D. Luffy. He was much like his grandfather, even as they both fell asleep in the middle of their own fight.

But Marco hasn’t seen pirates like these since Roger, despite the Marine propaganda, his cabin boy Shanks, or Whitebeard. Considering the rookie pirate had Red-Haired Shanks’ old straw hat…. Who if all the praises Coby said were true, saved him and a whole town, was more hero than a pirate had the right to be.

Monkey D. Luffy who dreamed of being King of the Pirates. Well, Marco could admit to himself he wouldn’t mind seeing the boy become the second King.

Even if the crew couldn’t handle a few cannonballs from Garp at the moment.

Then Marineford. The stories he had heard in passing before, if he lived long enough to hear them, paled in comparison to the actual event.

It was a massacre. Garp fell and so did his grandson. Whitebeard died on his feet seeing his adopted son and blood son of Gol D. Roger perish under the executioner’s blade. And there impaled on a molten fist was Coby, the boy Garp hoped would continue his legacy.

Marco died, a screech echoing over the battlefield as he flew to attack the lava man, with ice and light ripping through his body.

9 and 1st Time Pirate

9 he wakes to wings not hands and realizes just exactly what the fruit did to him.

Marco does not join the Marines this time, preferring to not think about all the blood and death he still had nightmares about.

This time, he flies and travels. The seas no longer limit him and stars will always be his guide. He doesn’t tire but can just fly for what seems like forever.

The blond witnesses Gol D. Roger’s death, spotting the would be faces of many soon to be known names. It’s curious but Red Hair asks if he wants to join his crew.

“Why?”

“You look interesting!”

Needing something new and knowing full well what kind of pirate the young man is from endless rants from Garp, Marco accepts. Not like he has anything better to do.

It’s maybe the worst decision he’s ever made as the seemingly endless parties usually leave it up to him to keep them on course, unable to get drunk without the help of seastone.

He’s grateful when Benn joins, if not just to keep Shanks somewhat in line for a pirate. There are questions about his knowledge of the Marines and he makes no point to hide that he ‘quit’.

“Being a pirate suit you more?”

“Seems so Cap.”

If more pirates were like Red Hair, he ponders, watching the man make a fool of himself for a pretty green haired girl, then there wouldn’t been so many issues in the world.

Marco meets a young Monkey D. Luffy, still as mischievous as before, and laughs at the reaction Shanks has when he learns the kid he’s taken a shine to is related to Garp.

“He’s got his Grandfather’s smile.”

“I’m concerned how you know that, Marc.”

It goes much like canon, Luffy is kidnapped and is taken to the middle of the bay and Marco is actually the one who flys Shanks out there.

Marco has a first hand experience of watching Shanks lose his arm. He apologizes for not being faster but Shanks just smiles.

“He’s worth it.”

Shanks becomes Emperor, Marco and Benn both arguably first mate but Marco gets his first bounty poster.

“The Phoenix?”

“Pretty on the nose with that one.”

They have many clashes, with pirates and other Marines alike. Marco finds he enjoys the meetings with the man called Whitebeard the most. At worst, they have a fight but usually they are all too hungover by the time it gets to that.

The morning after a rare party between Shanks and Whitebeard, the air was full of the smell of breakfast and hint of something else. It made Marco pause his berated tairaid against Shanks’ stupidity and abruptly walks away. He followed the smell, leading him to the Moby Dicks kitchen where a man in a chefs suit was elbow deep in kneading bread. But the smell. He breathed it in barely noticing Shanks and Benn following.

The chef looks up and smiles.

“Hey! You’re on Shanks crew, right? I’m Thatch, head chef and 3rd commander! Nice to meet you… hey hello? You in there?”

Thatch looks confused as he holds up the cinnamon and Marco’s eyes follow. Left, right, up, down. Thatch eventually hands Marco a fresh roll and he literally coos with joy.

Shanks LOOSES it. Marco screeches, launching at Shanks with a kick. They run out of the kitchen and Thatch is just so confused and Benn is amused.

The Red Force is then on always stocked with Cinnamon and Thatch always gifts Marco with new cinnamon treats to try, a personal challenge of his.

Marineford comes again, Shanks having tried to prevent it but failed. It was hard to hear that Thatch had been killed but Marco keeps focused as they fight Kaido to make it in time to do anything.

By the time they arrive, it’s much the same nightmare as before. Garp survives but both his grandchildren have fallen, Whitebeard stands dead once again with much of his children at his feet. Shanks was able to save Coby, the boy just inches from having a face full of magma. The Marines scream victory but Marco can only feel hollow.

He’s been on both sides of that battlefield now and neither feel like a victory.

The Red Hair pirates help with gathering the dead, Marco keeping watch on everything as much as he can. Garp looks at him with such mistrust it hurts more than anything.

He offers his condolences, something he couldn’t offer a corpse previously. Garp is somber but accepts. The true sadness is when he gives Shanks the straw hat telling him that Luffy would have wanted him to have it.

It’s not til after the funerals that Marco sits with Shanks and Benn. He’s got a sea stone ring on as he drinks and drinks.

He tells them the truth. He’s old and seen this before and nothing changes. Death seems to be the only result.

They talk to him about the Marines, about the first time, about everything.

“I see these things and don’t know how to fix them. All the paths seem to lead to that blasted war.”

Benn looks at him, “Have you really tried?”

Marco stares into his drink. Has he? He’s taken different roads but never really did much to change things did he?

The phoenix finds new determined and confidence in the faith that both of them have in him to fix things. They won’t remember him, no one does, but they were proud to call him nakama for all these years.

“If you ever need us, find us again, tell us something that only we would know and a bottle of booze. We’ll drink together again.” Shanks tells him before stabbing Marco through the heart.

10 and the Guardian

10 and Marco awakes on a mission. He grows just old enough to be accepted as a cabin boy and flies. Flies far, far away from his home to the Grand line. Where he find the Roger pirates, a budding crew well on their way to greatness. He learns from the best, gaining first hand experience on why the Pirate King was so formidable.

Haki is a well worth nightmare to learn from two of its greatest users. Even if it meant that he had to babysit a younger and somehow even more reckless Shanks and fellow cabin boy Buggy.

Marco watches with a whole new level of sadness at Roger’s passing. Shanks again asks for him to join his crew but Marco declines stating that he’s going to travel for a bit and figure out where life takes him.

Where it ends up taking him, is more preset than he would have Shanks believe. He follows Garp to a small island in the South blue where he see Rouge give birth to the little boy named Ace.

Garp confronts the man but Marco has kept his powers a secret from the Marines this time, a fall back for if things got dicey. He follows Garp, bird shaped so know no one is the wiser.

He spends years watching over the boy. Raising him in ways that Garp couldn’t. He’s there for when Garp brings Luffy to the town for Makino to care for. He watches over these boys that are so, so important.

And he meets Shanks again when the Red Hair Pirates come to town.

Marco lets Shanks meet Luffy and pulls him aside to take a walk. They walk to the forest where Shanks feels eyes watching. Marco remains calm and jovial even as two young boys attack him with metal pipes.

He easily defeats the two and leaves Shanks stunned for once. He watches as both brats yell at Marco for beating them again as Marco scolds them right back for their poor technique.

The tall blond introduces the two brats as Ace and Sabo, his charges shared under Garp.

“Garp?! That old fart?!”

“Hey! Don’t you call gramps an old fart, dye job!”

“What did you just call me brat?!”

Shanks and Ace bicker with each other as Marco and Sabo watch amused.

Shanks spends most of the walk back grumbling about pain in the ass kids.

“He takes after Roger but I see more of Rouge in him.”

“Ugh he’s just as stubborn as the Cap.. tain.” Shanks pauses… and stares at Marco then back at the forest and the back at Marco. “He- That’s?!”

“You have to swear never to speak of this Shanks… Garp and I have protected him for this long. I would hate to think we failed because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

“Never. For the Captain and Rouge’s son never…. tell me more about him Marco.”

“Let’s go talk over drinks.”

Marco still enjoys getting a shocked face out of Shanks.

For the whole year he’s in the East Blue, he splits his time between Luffy and the two boys on the mountain.

Shanks shares stories of his time as a cabin boy on Roger’s crew, which causes Ace to get mad but then he’s pacified when hearing other tales of his mother.

Ace doesn’t hate his father quite as much this time but still has enough of a stigma to still be angry with him.

But canon has a way of happening and Shanks once again loses an arm for Luffy. Marco watches with sadness knowing his friend will be sailing from the Blue permanently. He bids them a safe journey and for Benn to keep his sanity. Shanks just laugh and they share a hug.

Garp returns, furious that Marco lets his brat grandson be influenced by that damn Red Hair. Marco just shrugs, knowing full well if Garp meant it he would have come back sooner. News of Red Hair being in the East Blue wasn’t hard to find, Marco could clearly remember Garp complaining about it while he was in the Marines. The Phoenix does inform Garp that Shanks knows about Ace and the grandfather sighs.

“He’s got his mother’s freckles as clear as day.”

“Suits him.”

“Aye.”

Luffy befriends the boys who become brothers then canon canon canon. Marco can only do so much good saving Ace and Dudan, and then going to search for Sabo. He finds the boy on a ship in a coma in the hands of…

“Ah, hello Dragon.”

The two talk, Marco explaining who the boy is and his… situation. Marco holds off on moving the boy till he wakes, his injuries far too severe to move him right away.

So Dragon and Marco talk. Marco is kind enough to share stories of Luffy growing up, something the father smiles at. It’s a peace offering.

Sabo awakens with amnesia. He reacts poorly to going home but seems to take pause at the mention of brothers.

“Ace? Luffy?”

“Yes. Those are their names.”

“I have brothers.”

Marco and Sabo go back home, with Dragon leaving Marco with his den den number in case there’s something Garp can’t handle. Ace and Luffy barely let Sabo out of their sight for days but help the boy relearn things and heal.

Years pass and both Ace and Sabo are the age to set sail. Marco stays with Luffy as they watch the boy’s two older brother sail away together. Marco tells them to watch each others backs and keep their wits.

“More than anything stay safe, stay alive.”

“You worry too much Marc, we’ll be fine.“

"I’ll keep him out of trouble Marco.”

“Hey!“

There Marco remains hearing about the two’s adventures with brief updates via the mail. He’s pleased to see both have taken up with Whitebeard. The old man would keep the boys safe.

The day Luffy sets out, Marco goes with him. Luffy pouts but he’s pleased that he’ll have some of his family with him. Marco flies high above enjoying the sun and completely misses the whirlpool until it’s too late. He can only watch as Luffy bobs in the water stuck in a barrel.

Just great.

East Blue basically happens with a plus one Marco. He tries to stay out of the way as much as possible, he’s not Luffy’s crew, these aren’t his fights but seeing all these familiar faces is both nice and painful.

He watches Coby’s beginning and the strength he got from Luffy plus how much Helmeppo changed.

Seeing Buggy, Roger’s other cabin boy, again was interesting.

"Buggy!”

“Oh damn, a flashy idiot from the past.”

“You know this clown?!”

“We were part of the same crew.”

“Did he have the nose then too?”

“ah… ”

“HOW DARE YOU?!”

They travel from one island to the next, picking up a first mate, navigator, and then a sharpshooter. Marco was sad to hear about Usopp’s mother passing, he hadn’t been aware of her death while still traveling with Shanks and as a doctor, it was probably something he could have prevented.

Marco left the Baratie early, flying after Nami with the other boat following his lead.

Marco pats Luffy on the head before he goes, “Stay safe.”

“Yosh~!” He nods at Hawkeye and flys off.

Learning exactly how Bell-mere passed was hard. She died like a hero protecting her girls and he could respect that after now raising so many kids, so many times, himself.

Still he honors Luffy’s claim of dibs but does destroy the Marine ships nearby, earning his bounty to raise once again.

Lougetown was interesting. He has no wish to see the site where Roger died, he’s seen it too many times as is and walks towards a familiar presence on the other side of town. He finds Dragon in a hole in the wall pub and they have drinks.

Small talk is exchanged and the leader of the revolutionary army has some good gossip… and some bad.

“Ace and Sabo have been seen leaving the new world for paradise… its said they are tracking someone named Teach…”

“Damn…”

Their talk is cut short when the wind picks up from a storm rolling in… and a person barges in yelling about an execution in the square.

“Looks like your son found trouble again. Does he get that from you or his mother?”

“No comment.”

Marco rushes ahead, allowing Dragon to slip away into the shadows. He doesn’t do much but does strike some more fear of god into Buggy for messing with his chick.

“I FORGOT HOW PROTECTIVE YOU GET JEEZ.”

They escape with a shared nod between Dragon and Marco.

When they start sharing their dreams on the way up reverse mountain, Marco has a vague one to share “To prevent the future.”

Que the beginning of the Alabasta arc. Past knowledge has always been limited when it comes to Luffy’s journey. It was filled with misinformation and other hole so he was honestly not expecting for there to be a GIANT WHALE. Oh, hi Crocus.

“You know this flower?”

“Reluctantly, yoi.”

“Brat!”

“My name is Crocus, the lighthouse keeper of Twin Capes. I’m 71 years old, a Gemini and type AB blood.”

“ YOU’RE A CAPRICORN YOI.”

They sail away from the capes, experiencing the strange weather of the Grandline for the first time. “It feels like coming home.” The Blues no longer felt quite the home, like the Grandline.

They arrive at Whiskey Peak and Marco is instantly suspicious. He joins the drinking with merry joy. They could try to get him drunk all they wanted but even with a seastone ring, he’s partied with Roger, Shanks and Whitebeard. This was nothing.

He fake passes out with Nami and Zoro, both having caught on to the plot.

Baroque Works reveals themselves and Marco fights the Millions. They are weak even by Grandline standards but their numbers prove to be the most annoying.

As Vivi explains what’s happening to her country and Mr.0 being Crocodile things are starting to become clear on how the Navy originally covered the whole mess up.

Little Garden is basically identical expect Marco is with Sanji as most of this goes down. So he’s not involved with any of it.

When Nami comes down sick, Marco tries to cure her but is unfamiliar with her illness. His memory reminds him of a long since wiped out Disease that it could be but he doesn’t have the ingredients. His flames help keep her fever down but are unable to do much else.

When Marco isn’t looking after Nami, he’s taken over navigation getting them safely to Drum… Mostly, til this hippo gets on deck. Marco has the sick satisfaction of seeing Luffy send the little gremlin flying for eating a chunk of Merry.

Marco would fly Nami all the way to the top but its too snowy and windy for him to make the flight safely with a passenger, especially one as sick as she was. He joins Luffy and Sanji in carrying her up to the top, the cold not really an issue. Luffy tries to fight him on it but Marco hits him on the head with his own Fist of Love.

“She’s Nakama, Luffy. I’m going, yoi.”

“…Fine.”

Marco is the one to carry Sanji to the top while Luffy still has Nami. He’s exhausted but awake when Chopper finds them by the cliff. He heals naturally, bundled up in a blanket by a fire. He hears Dr. Kureha’s story about Chopper and the island, casually wondering if it would have been the same for him had he known from the beginning he could shift into a flaming bird.

Wapol’s arrival at the castle is unwelcomed in his opinion and short lasting at least. He, as always, stays out of the fight, but assists the Doctor in keeping Sanji out of it as well.

lucky:i like how he’s present but not changing things

Wapol is defeated giving Kureha and Marco a chance to chat. It turns into this and that, the will of D., and…

“Your eyes look old.”

“I bet.”

“How many cycles have you gone through, Phoenix?“

”…what?“

"Rebirths? Is that what you call it? Bah. no matter… not everyone can age as gracefully as me.”

She admits that she read about it once briefly in an old medical tomb. A previous user went insane on their 13th rebirth.

“I’m on my 10th, yoi. I don’t even know why it keeps happening.”

“Well you might want to figure that one out soon.”

“Any hints?”

“The book mention they went crazy and burned to ash, nothing about a cure.”

“Fantastic.”

They leave, both merry and somber. Marco won’t abandon Luffy to go hunt for a solution he may not even find.

So the Strawhat crew is finally almost to Alabasta. Mr.2 doesn’t get Marco’s face cause he was in bird form looking down on the shenanigans.

The dock and Marco feels the two familiar presences with a large smile. They meet back up with Ace first then Sabo who was spying as Ace got into trouble with Smoker.

Luffy introduces his two brothers much to the crews shock. Two Whitebeard pirates and they are Luffy’s brothers?! Marco laughs glad to have his boys back in one place if not just for a bit.

Ace and Sabo inform him they’ve been tracking a traitor named Teach. Marco actually pulls them both aside and tells them to be careful and don’t underestimate him.

“Do you know something Marc?”

“…I don’t like this. If he’s underhanded enough to stab a crewmate, who knows what else he has planned.”

“We’ll be careful.”

They travel across the sand and dunes, Marco switching between flight and walking. The heat is aggravating but manageable.

They seem to be on a wild goose chase when the rebel army moved and the rain base is also a dead end. They race to stop Crocodile, Luffy and he crew taking care of the fights while Marco flies the bomb into the middle of the sky to explode.

They rest and recover, Marco getting scolded for once for his recklessness, and finally set sail on Merry on to discover a new crew mate.

Marco isn’t sure what to think about Nico Robin. But she doesn’t seem to have any ill intentions so he accepts her easily enough.

When the log post points up to a sky island, Marco offers to fly up and set it so they can just continue on but Luffy pouts at him, rejecting his proposal to no one’s surprise.

Marco stays on the ship at Mock town, avoiding the encounter with Blackbeard and his crew.

The Skypedia arc goes as well as expected. Marco briefly explains the basics of Haki as Enel tries to strike them again and again with lightning.

Luffy wins, Marco comments on Enel’s poor luck of finding the one man in all the seas immune to his attacks.

Marco can tell something is wrong with Merry. At night he can hear a hammer tapping away. His worst fears are confirmed at Water 7.

The Phoenix can only watch as the crew learns of Merry broken keel and then of Luffy’s fight with Usopp. He can’t condone Usopp’s behavior but understands why the long nose felt so deeply about it.

Because he going to miss Merry too.

Things are only further complicated when Robin leaves along with the arrival of CP9. In his lives, Marco never encountered the Marines spies but had heard enough about them to realize they were bad news. With the reveal of the blueprints for Pluton, Marco is on high alert.

Marco follows the escaping CP9 with the captured Franky and Usopp, flying high above to not be seen.

The crew is all reunited as they approach Enies Lobby. It’s through his travels, Marco has learned a great deal of the corruption of the Marines, but hearing of the truth for the buster call on Robin’s home is sickening.

One by one, the Straw Hats beat CP9, Marco taking care of many of the minions running around the place.

As the buster call arrives, Marco destroys many of the Marine ships until Luffy defeats Lucci. The crew escapes on Merry, Marco watching from the sky’s over head. Even he can’t help but cry when they give her a funeral by fire.

Marco is elated seeing Garp, Coby and Helmeppo again. It’s on friendly terms for the first time since he had been a Marine and he missed their shenanigans. Luffy’s father is no surprise to him and Garp calls him out, Marco admitting he’s met him before.

“Damn annoying brat.”

They set sail on the new Thousand Sunny, Marco knocking away some of Garps cannonballs. Somethings never change.

Thriller Bark is interesting, Marco had heard of Moriah’s island ship but had never seen it and now was wishing he never had the chance. His shadow was never personal stolen from him, Haki keeping it safe from Moriah’s grubby hands.

Brook is about the closest thing Marco has ever seen to his own rebirth powers but quickly discovers that’s not quite right as he could only do it once and he never looped.

Still Marco can’t help but sympathize that the skeleton spent so long by himself.

For all their attempts, the one to finally take down Oars is Marco. He had waited and watched and seen them give it their all but the truth is clear. They can’t quite manage.

But he can.

Still the first time in a while he’s been able to let loose, becoming far too lax this loop to have any time to fight. But Oars falls and Marco feels refreshed.

He worries as Luffy takes so much damage from Moriah and the with the arrival of Kuma he has to step in. Marco is the one to take all of Luffy’s damage instead of Zoro. He knocked both Sanji and Zoro out to do it. Kuma looks at the fallen young men and then at Marco who just smiles.

“You’ve helped raise Dragon’s son into a fine man with a good crew.”

“He did that all by himself, yoi.”

Marco awakens to the worried looks of the Straw Hat crew, all wondering what happened.

He smiles and says it was nothing as both Sanji and Zoro look at him blankly, the area covered in his blood. They can be mad at him all they want, he’d make the same choice every time.

They sail to Sabody and Marco ditches the crew at Shakky’s bar, talking with her over drinks for a bit. He’s informed that Ace and Sabo were not as careful as he had hoped, they were captured and sent to Impel Down.

“Damn those brats. I warned them.”

“It gets worse Marco-kun. Ace has been scheduled for execution.”

“Of course he has.”

Marco is still at Shakky’s when the Straw Hats and Ray return.

“Welcome back Ray-san.”

“Ah Marco! Been a while!”

It’s revealed that Marco was also on Roger’s crew along with Ray much to the shock of everyone, including Luffy.

“How was I supposed to know?!”

“I’ve told you enough stories that you should have figured it out, yoi.”

The crew has to make a run for it as they are outclassed and outnumbered by gathering Marine forces. Between Kuma, Pacificas, and the Admiral Kizaru, they stood no chance.

Marco tries to protect the crew from Kuma but fails as he too is blasted away, unable to break out of the paw bubble.

Marco is sent to the Red Force to the shock of its crew. He’s fucking furious, fighting Kaido and flying as fast as he can directly to Marineford but arrives too late.

Now not only were Ace and Luffy dead, but Sabo as well. Marco collapses in grief, dying as magma melts him.

So ends loop 10, probably the harshest yet on his poor heart.

11 and Canon at last

Marco is at a loss for what to do at the start of 11. It feels like he’s missing something and can’t quite figure out what.

He travels to the not yet destroyed island of Ohara, still known for its vast knowledge and thousands of books.

Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to find a single one on helping him. Marco had located the medical book Kureha mentioned but it listed more of what happened should he fail than succeed. Doomed to ash, it seemed was his fate.

While there, he befriends a woman named Olivia, now knowing that this woman was Robin’s mother.

They talk only a handful of times before he departs, but he warns her that Ohara was already suspected to be researching the void century and to be careful.

He flies to Roger, the man still young and not yet a pirate. Roger humors Marco as he asks questions, generally amusing as the boy, still a boy, takes a small comfort in huddling into the man’s side.

“I don’t know how to save them, yoi. Every time I try, they die worse than the last.”

“Maybe it’s not about saving them, but giving them the best chance at survival?”

“What Ray said! I know I’d give up everything to save my crew!”

Rayleigh offers that if what he’s tried so far didn’t work, maybe he could try something else. Marco thinks and there’s one crew directly involved he hasn’t tried yet. He thanks the two and promises they’ll meet again someday and flys to find a young Whitebeard.

Marco joins Whitebeard’s crew, watches as it grows from a handful of men to multiple divisions. It’s hard to call him Pops, having been enemies and only sometimes allies, but Newgate is just as stubborn as Roger in many cases and looks so proud the first time the name slips from his mouth.

He never fights against Roger and his crew, usually brushing past the bewildered pirates with a bottle split between him and Ray, even if he has to deal with the ‘you’re too young for drinking’ comments.

Marco is promoted to first mate and is stunned as that spot has always been Diamond Jozu’s position. But the crew voted and they trust him and he’s their big brother. It makes Marco feel warm.

Marco is the one to recruit Thatch, young and bright not yet with his iconic hairstyle. But his cooking is just what they need on a growing crew and Thatch thrives.

Life continues, and things come to pass just like before. Roger dies and Marco sees first hand the decline of Whitebeard. The realization time is killing his old Captain’s rival is hard, not even his flames can heal old age.

He probably enjoys the fights with Shanks crew the most because he knows what they want, a good drink and maybe a fight. As Pops and Shanks yell and clash he walks up to Benn as offers him a drink and a safe place to watch from. He’ll take every chance he gets to enjoy the company of his friends before its slips away.

It’s been years but it also passed in a blink of an eye as reports of Jinbe fighting an upcoming rookie reaches the deck of the Moby Dick. Marco lets out a breath. Ace.

Marco never saw how Pops took one look at this brat and wanted him on his crew.

Never saw how Thatch’s eyes lit up as Ace snapped back sarcastically and knew he found something fun.

Never saw how the crew slowly adopted this angry child as their own and he gradually accepted them too.

Never saw how Luffy’s first bounty poster made his whole world and how it was all torn down when one of his own division kills Thatch.

Now Marco sees how the once happy family fell, all because of one devil fruit. They only later identify it as the Dark Dark fruit, and reading the far too short description of its powers, leaves Marco wondering what other secrets it had.

So we have canon, Ace goes after Teach despite Marco’s warnings and pleas. He does and Marco can only mentally prepare himself for the worst. Shanks distracts Kaido as they head to war. It’s planned a bit differently than he’s seen it in the past, but that’s what past knowledge gets you.

He goes to war like canon and the war ends like canon. Ace and Pops are dead but Luffy escaped with the help of the up and coming supernova, Trafalgar Law.

It feels like a fever dream as Marco stands in front of the two graves of Ace and Pops, shoulder to shoulder with Shanks once again.

“I could use a drink.”

“Get me a seastone ring and I’ll give you a story too.”

Marco and Shanks drink in quiet in the Captain’s room on the Red Force. It looks nearly identical to the times when he’s been on the crew, even has his wanted poster on the wall.

“Why am I on your walls, Shanks? Trying to get me to join more than just your crew?”

“You know, I put it up when I was smashed and never felt like taking it down. Seemed to belong there.”

“You don’t say.”

They drink and drink til bottles litter the floor. Marco is the only one still going, drinking and talking about everything. Shanks slowed when the bird mentioned his multiple pasts and stopped when Marco said they had once been nakama. It was sobering and he started comforting the man when the tears got to be too much.

“I got so close Shanks. I only have one try left, yoi.”

“Sounds like you got close this time Marc… just… whatever you do next time, do what you want. Make the changes that matter to you.”

Marco waits til Shanks is asleep before taking a nearby knife and plunging it into his heart.

Triskaidekaphobia

12 and one sane life left, Marco awakens on a mission. If this is going to be his last chance… then he’s going to make sure all the people he cares about survive.

He joins Edward Newgate as the very first member of his new crew, easily calling the older man ‘Pops’ and man decides he likes the sound of that.

There’s nothing he can do for Roger, his illness incurable even to his healing blue flames (it was something he tried very early on), but before the man’s death, they drink and Marco tells him all sorts of stories about a boy named Ace and his brothers. Roger laughs till he cries.

“You know something Phoenix, if I ever had a son, he would be named Ace.”

“It’s a good name.”

“It really is.”

He’s sure Roger realizes the truth in the end, telling the Phoenix to look after him and his mother for him.

It took some planing and a lot of luck but after Roger’s execution Marco was able to lead Garp to Rouge faster than previously. It took secret letters and a few other bribes but the Marine was able to smuggle the woman off Baterilla, taking her and the baby she carried to the East Blue where she would be safe.

Marco handled the business on Ohara personally, but when Olivia failed to listen to his warnings, he knocked her out. Shoving her at Saul and Robin, the group escaped the Buster Call but were still tracked by the government for years to come.

Years later, he arrives in the North Blue just in time to save his old ward from several gunshot wounds, helping him and the crying boy to the next town over.

He sends money and a letter to Bell-mere telling her she’s worth more to her girls alive than dead.

Marco clears Tom’s name before Spandam can kill him, Cutty Flam is still presumed dead after attempting to stop the sea train.

The Phoenix sends medicine to Usopp’s mother and prevents the death of Chopper’s mentor Hiluluk.

Marco easily befriends Ace, welcoming him into the new crew. He saves Thatch from death, but for all his careful planning Teach still escapes.

With the war still on, Marco plots and toils.

Upon Shanks’ visit he has both crews agree to be close at hand incase something goes wrong, which it will and does.

Completely cuts the whole confrontation between the two captains having seen it too many times.

“None of us have time for your squabbling, not our crews or Ace, yoi.”

Hearing of the execution, Marco sends out orders to all their allies and just one more.

He calls a number he had memorized long ago. It didn’t pick up the first ring or even the second but on the third…

“Hello Dragon.”

It’s all set as Marco stands on the Moby in the middle of Marineford. He’s done all he could in planning for this.

He watches as Luffy predictable falls from the sky, challenging anyone who dare stands in his way. He watches as the Marines pull out all their tricks to stop Whitebeard. He watches and waits and there.

Ace’s true weakness that he was always too kind, Marco thought as the fire man would not let the taunt go. He stops and that’s all the chance Akainu needed. The admiral attacks but Akainu’s fist impaled not Ace but him. There was a just hiss as flames tried to heal, gasps of Ace and Luffy watched in horror.

“Run, damn brats.”

Marco falls but it’s the first time he’s satisfied. He laughs and fixes a stare at Blackbeard.

“It will never be your age.”

The Phoenix lives and dies in cycles. It brings the dawn, the coming of a new time.

Marco hopes that with his death, it will be their age, Luffy’s or Ace’s or Sabo’s. That’s what he wishes to see. Them to live, them to be free.

Broken Hourglass

Marco awakens to what he assumes with be 13, where he will slowly go mad and lose all sense of reality till he turns to ash.

Instead he’s surrounded by crying faces.

“What?”

“You big feathered idiot!” Cried Thatch rubbing at his face, attempting to hide flowing tears. “What were you thinking?!”

“Wh-“

“I think we all know he wasn’t thinking anything good.” Answered Shanks appearing with a grin just in eyesight.

Marco took the moment to get good look at all the faces surrounding him. There were his boys, Luffy, Ace, and an all grown up Sabo just as much hugging each other as they were to clutching on to his sash.

There was a tall blond man in a pink hat crying next to a much smaller boy with pink hair, a man with a spotted hat giving them awkward comforting pats on the back.

Pops was over to the side with Garp and Rayleigh, the old guard watching over them.

Marco sat up, noticing no hole in his chest and that they were no longer on Marineford. “What happened, yoi?”

“You kinda exploded. Sent Akainu flying back and the battle almost continued if it wasn’t for pinky here. We thought you were dead till the ashes came together and there you were Marc, bird form and all.”

Marco gulped looking at Shanks. “M-Marc?”

“Yeah. We all remember. Some of it? Most of it? Ehhh how did you ever keep it all straight???”

Marco laughs and laughs. Because no one died and that mattered more than anything.

Epilogue

Bell-mare remembers and sees the note and is absolutely gonna punch him when she gets the chance.

[queerchoicesblog]

News From The Ludus (ACOR, Lena x MC)

Lucilla is shaken by what she discovered at the ludus with Cassius: Syphax is alive but not free anymore as he’s been sold as a gladiator and Victus is in Rome. Although happy to be so close to her dad, Lucilla (MC) feels guilty for Syphax being sold as a slave. Lena goes talk to her and...she has a message from Marc Anthony about an ominous meeting at a popina. Consider this an alternative (and a bit angsty) version of the aftermath of the ludus of yesterday's chapter. Hope you lovelies like it!

Word Count: 1862

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @jellymonster @gayestchoices

__________________________

Lena was standing in the hall of her scholae, going through the plan for the upcoming debut of one of her girls. "That's what's gonna happen tonight, in short. But worry not, Madi, I'll be right there with you and so will be your bodyguard. Remember that I won't ask you to do anything against your will: if you don't feel safe or comfortable with certain requests, just signal your bodyguard and if the patron complains, he'll come to me and we’ll find a fair agreement. You may be a courtesan, girl, but you'll never be a slave, got it?" The girl nodded and shyly thanked her domina. Then, raising her eyes, she noticed the woman approaching. "Oh Lucilla, you're back! How did it -" she said chirpily but didn't finish the sentence. She befriended the Princess of Gaul and enjoyed her company. But she had never seen her like that. The Gallic girl, her face pale and unreadable, made a beeline for the sleeping quarters without answering nor making eye contact with anyone in the room. She stormed away like a ghost. "What happened? Is she okay?" Madi asked to her domina, genuinely worried for her friend. Lena gave her a weak smile and looked back to the corridor. "I'm sure it's nothing, but if you don't have any further questions, I'll go check on her" The girl shook her head and headed to the garden. Lena tried her best to conceal her concern as she walked to Lucilla's room.

------ When she finally reached her chamber, Lucilla shut off the curtain and tossed the tiara she was wearing across the room. The sound of metal hitting the stone floor woke Cirta. The little monkey was peacefully dozing off on an armchair and shrieked, scared by the sudden ruckus. He fell to the ground and looked around to see what was happening. When his eyes fell on the Gaul he gave her a quizzical look. The girl rushed to her bed and started punching her pillow, silently weeping. When Cirta spotted a tear on her cheek, he made a dash to her and pulled at the hem of her blue dress. But she didn't seem to notice. She groaned and grabbed her head. "What have I done?" she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. When she opened them a minute later, her little monkey was holding a grape an inch from her nose, smiling encouragingly. "Oh Cirta! I'm afraid this won't be enough to fix this" she sighed, pulling him into a hug. The monkey's tiny arms wrapped around her. At that very moment, Lena appeared on the threshold. ------------ "Lucilla? Are you here?" Lena asked, grazing her fingertips against the curtain. No answer. Lena cautiously pulled it back and almost bumped into Cirta who was running full speed towards her. He stumbled to his feet not expecting the woman to anticipate his moves. Then he recollected himself and made some incomprehensible noises while pointing at his owner. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, giving Lena a pleading look as if he meant to say 'She's not okay, she even refused a grape so it must be serious...fix her, please?'. Lena's eyes moved from him to the young woman sitting on her bed, knees pressed against her chest. "Lucilla? Are you okay?" she said, drawing the curtain and sitting beside her. The Gaul remained quiet for a while, while Lena put a comforting arm around her shoulders. Then she spoke: "I messed up, Lena" "What did you mess up? What happened?" "Syphax" her voice cracked. Lena froze. "What happened to him? Did he-" "He's alive. He won the match and was rehabilitated. I spoke to him" Lena sighed in relief. "May the Gods be praised! I was so worried that he might...oh no, need to think about that now! He's alive...but where is he? He didn't come back with you" "Marc Anthony released him from the charges but made him a gladiator. He sold him to ludus owners. He's a slave now" the younger woman explained. Lena gaped and frowned. "This can't be...Syphax...when I recruited him for the scholae, I promised him that he would be always free from that day on. That time of our lives was over for good, I said" she hanged her head in defeat. Lucilla shattered her jaw. "And it's all my fault" Lena turned to her. "What are you saying? How can it be your fault?" Lucilla turned to look at her. "I tried to save him. I asked Cassius for help but he said his hands were tied, there was very little he could do....so I asked Mark Anthony for favours and-" Lena's eyes flashed with anger. "You did what?" Lucilla stood and walked a bit further from Lena, crossing her arms. "I had no choice! I couldn't stand there and let Syphax get sentenced for that crime but Cassius said he couldn't help-" "So you went to that snake?!" Lena hissed, standing too. Lucilla fiercely stood her ground. "I had to, Lena! There was no other way!" "Do you have the slightest idea of what asking favours to Marc Anthony mean? What a man like him might ask you in return? You cannot trust a viper, Lucilla!" "And I don't! But sometimes you have to do things like that for a greater good" "Let's hope this greater good of yours won't kill you then! ‘Cause everything is possible when you owe to wolves like Marc Anthony" Lena groaned and diverted her eyes. Lucilla spoke again, anxious to proving her point. "But I did save Syphax from certain death, at least"  "Yes, you did. Even if the life of a slave can hardly be called life...but he hasn't met the Lord of the Underworld yet, yes. That's what counts now" the domina sighed. She turned back to Lucilla. The Gaul's emerald eyes were fierce and glimmering in the light of the day. "I only hope you won't meet him any time soon too and with Marc Anthony involved I just cannot tell. Why don't you ever listen to me, Lucilla?" Lena gave her a pained smile. The Gallic girl grimaced and took a step closer. "I'm so sorry, Lena. I should have...I'm mortified about what happened to Syphax, he being a slave...it didn't have to end this way! I just did what I thought was right. And Marc Anthony played me, I should have known better. I only wanted him back. I couldn't lose one of the few friends I made over here, not after what I've been through with my people. The Roman can't take everything away from me or the ones I care" she said grimly. "They took nothing away from you, Lucilla. The Gaul you were born in, your people, your family...they will never leave you. Just close your eyes and you see that they still live inside of you. We can be in chains, they can drag us away from our homeland and the ones we love, but we will be always free. Freedom is in your mind, never forget that, wild flower" Lucilla looked into the other woman's eyes: she was still struggling to accept that truth. Lena frowned visibly as she spoke again. "As much as I do not agree with your plan, don't blame yourself for Sypax’s fate, you did everything you could. Maybe even too much" the woman grimaced. "Now it all makes sense though. You got my message, right?" "What's next?" Lucilla sighed. "Marc Anthony. He commanded you to join him and other senators to a popina by the docks. Immediately" The Gallic girl exhaled loudly. "Lucilla, please promise you'll be careful. That man is up to something, Jupiter knows what but I bet it's something malicious. Gathering senators in a popina is most unconventional, to say the least...and the fact that he commanded you concerns me even more" "I'll be careful, I promise. I'm always wary, Lena" Lena gave her a weak smile. "I hope so. Now...I feel you should get prepared" Lucilla interrupted her. She was fidgeting with her own hands, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Hm, Lena? I bring other news from the arena" Lena gave a surprised look. "Good ones?" The Gaul looked at her smiling broadly. "My father is in Rome!" Lena gasped in surprise as the girl pulled her into a hug. Cirta cheered too on the bed and jumped up and down excitedly. Lucilla kept talking, excitement in her voice: "He fought in the arena too and won. You should have seen him Lena! The other gladiator was a good fighter but no one has ever defeated dad! Ever! I...thought I've have never seen him again and he's here!" "I'm so happy to hear that, Lucilla! The Gods listened to your prayers" the domina said smiling back at her when they parted. "Yes, they did! I'm just annoyed that they called him 'The Conquered King', the Roman always need to belittle their enemies" the girl pouted. Lena lifted her chin with a finger. "That name hardly fits him. If he's anything like his daughter, he must be a fierce warrior" "Oh he is!" Lucilla beamed with pride "The best warrior of whole Gaul! Sadly, I couldn't see him today but Cassius offered to give him an armor suitable for a King just as he deserves. He knows a smith who will do it, he said!" Lena smiled again, less brightly this time but her voice didn't flinch. "That's very thoughtful of Cassius. I'm glad to see he truly cares about you. Talking about your father...if he fought in the arena, he's a gladiator too. Do you know the name of his owner?" Lucilla shook her head frowning. "Nevermind, we'll find it out. I'll try and visit Syphax later. I'll ask to see your father too. Maybe there's something good old Lena can do for this Gallic famiy" she said, gently tucking a loose strand of the girl's hair behind her ear. Lucilla stared at her in awe and hooked her arms around her neck. "Will you, Lena? For real? Oh thank you!" "I promised to help you as I can, right? And I always keep my promises, you should know that" the domina said breaking free of the embrace. "Now I’m afraid you should really get ready for this meeting with Marc Anthony as much as I hate the idea of you going there. Refresh yourself and oh I know just the thing for you. I have the perfect dress for you, let me get it" Lucilla immediately went to grab some water Cirta in tow. Lena picked one dress from the wardrobe and returned towards the hall. There, before heading back to the girl's room, she stopped Alexios, one of the new bodyguards she recruited. He leaned closer to him and whispered into his ear: "I want you at the docks tonight. Follow the Princess of Gaul as she leaves to her upcoming meeting but don't let her catch you. Just keep your eyes peeled off out there and protect her if things go south. I have a bad feeling about this request".

[phooll123]

New top story from Time: President Trump’s Brother, Robert Trump, Dies at 71

(NEW YORK) — President Donald Trump’s younger brother, Robert Trump, a businessman known for an even keel that seemed almost incompatible with the family name, died Saturday night after being hospitalized in New York, the president said in a statement. He was 71.

The president visited his brother at a New York City hospital on Friday after White House officials said he had become seriously ill. Officials did not immediately release a cause of death.

“It is with heavy heart I share that my wonderful brother, Robert, peacefully passed away tonight,” Donald Trump said in a statement. “He was not just my brother, he was my best friend. He will be greatly missed, but we will meet again. His memory will live on in my heart forever. Robert, I love you. Rest in peace.”

The youngest of the Trump siblings had remained close to the 74-year-old president and, as recently as June, filed a lawsuit on behalf of the Trump family that unsuccessfully sought to stop publication of a tell-all book by the president’s niece, Mary.

Ron Galella–Ron Galella Collection/Getty Images(Pictured from left) Blaine Trump, Robert Trump, Donald Trump and Ivana Trump at the Pierre Hotel in New York City in 1987.

Robert Trump had reportedly been hospitalized in the intensive care unit for several days that same month.

Both longtime businessmen, Robert and Donald had strikingly different personalities. Donald Trump once described his younger brother as “much quieter and easygoing than I am,” and “the only guy in my life whom I ever call ‘honey.’”

Robert Trump began his career on Wall Street working in corporate finance but later joined the family business, managing real estate holdings as a top executive in the Trump Organization.

“When he worked in the Trump Organization, he was known as the nice Trump,” Gwenda Blair, a Trump family biographer, told The Associated Press. “Robert was the one people would try to get to intervene if there was a problem.”

Robert Stewart Trump was born in 1948, the youngest of New York City real estate developer Fred Trump’s five children.

The president, more than two years older than Robert, admittedly bullied his brother in their younger years, even as he praised his loyalty and laid-back demeanor.

“I think it must be hard to have me for a brother but he’s never said anything about it and we’re very close,” Donald Trump wrote in his 1987 bestseller “The Art of the Deal.”

“Robert gets along with almost everyone,” he added, “which is great for me since I sometimes have to be the bad guy.”

In the 1980s, Donald Trump tapped Robert Trump to oversee an Atlantic City casino project, calling him the perfect fit for the job. When it cannibalized his other casinos, though, “he pointed the finger of blame at Robert,” said Blair, author of “The Trumps: Three Generations that Built an Empire.”

“When the slot machines jammed the opening weekend at the Taj Mahal, he very specifically and furiously denounced Robert, and Robert walked out and never worked for his brother again,” Blair said.

A Boston University graduate, Robert Trump later managed the Brooklyn portion of father Fred Trump’s real estate empire, which was eventually sold.

Once a regular boldface name in Manhattan’s social pages, Robert Trump had kept a lower profile in recent years. “He was not a newsmaker,” Blair said.

Before divorcing his first wife, Blaine Trump, more than a decade ago, Robert Trump had been active on Manhattan’s Upper East Side charity circuit.

He avoided the limelight during his elder brother’s presidency, having retired to the Hudson Valley. But he described himself as a big supporter of the White House run in a 2016 interview with the New York Post.

“I support Donald one thousand percent,” Robert Trump said.

In early March of 2020, he married his longtime girlfriend, Ann Marie Pallan.

The eldest Trump sibling and Mary’s father, Fred Trump Jr., struggled with alcoholism and died in 1981 at the age of 43. The president’s surviving siblings include Elizabeth Trump Grau and Maryanne Trump Barry, a retired federal appeals judge.

Authors Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher described Robert Trump as soft spoken but cerebral in “Trump Revealed: The Definitive Biography of the 45th President”: “He lacked Donald’s charismatic showmanship, and he was happy to leave the bravado to his brother, but he could show flashes of Trump temper.”

___

AP researcher Jennifer Farrar contributed to this report from New York.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/310mRSQ via SEO Services

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[itsfinancethings]

New story in Business from Time: President Trump’s Brother, Robert Trump, Dies at 71

(NEW YORK) — President Donald Trump’s younger brother, Robert Trump, a businessman known for an even keel that seemed almost incompatible with the family name, died Saturday night after being hospitalized in New York, the president said in a statement. He was 71.

The president visited his brother at a New York City hospital on Friday after White House officials said he had become seriously ill. Officials did not immediately release a cause of death.

“It is with heavy heart I share that my wonderful brother, Robert, peacefully passed away tonight,” Donald Trump said in a statement. “He was not just my brother, he was my best friend. He will be greatly missed, but we will meet again. His memory will live on in my heart forever. Robert, I love you. Rest in peace.”

The youngest of the Trump siblings had remained close to the 74-year-old president and, as recently as June, filed a lawsuit on behalf of the Trump family that unsuccessfully sought to stop publication of a tell-all book by the president’s niece, Mary.

Ron Galella–Ron Galella Collection/Getty Images(Pictured from left) Blaine Trump, Robert Trump, Donald Trump and Ivana Trump at the Pierre Hotel in New York City in 1987.

Robert Trump had reportedly been hospitalized in the intensive care unit for several days that same month.

Both longtime businessmen, Robert and Donald had strikingly different personalities. Donald Trump once described his younger brother as “much quieter and easygoing than I am,” and “the only guy in my life whom I ever call ‘honey.’”

Robert Trump began his career on Wall Street working in corporate finance but later joined the family business, managing real estate holdings as a top executive in the Trump Organization.

“When he worked in the Trump Organization, he was known as the nice Trump,” Gwenda Blair, a Trump family biographer, told The Associated Press. “Robert was the one people would try to get to intervene if there was a problem.”

Robert Stewart Trump was born in 1948, the youngest of New York City real estate developer Fred Trump’s five children.

The president, more than two years older than Robert, admittedly bullied his brother in their younger years, even as he praised his loyalty and laid-back demeanor.

“I think it must be hard to have me for a brother but he’s never said anything about it and we’re very close,” Donald Trump wrote in his 1987 bestseller “The Art of the Deal.”

“Robert gets along with almost everyone,” he added, “which is great for me since I sometimes have to be the bad guy.”

In the 1980s, Donald Trump tapped Robert Trump to oversee an Atlantic City casino project, calling him the perfect fit for the job. When it cannibalized his other casinos, though, “he pointed the finger of blame at Robert,” said Blair, author of “The Trumps: Three Generations that Built an Empire.”

“When the slot machines jammed the opening weekend at the Taj Mahal, he very specifically and furiously denounced Robert, and Robert walked out and never worked for his brother again,” Blair said.

A Boston University graduate, Robert Trump later managed the Brooklyn portion of father Fred Trump’s real estate empire, which was eventually sold.

Once a regular boldface name in Manhattan’s social pages, Robert Trump had kept a lower profile in recent years. “He was not a newsmaker,” Blair said.

Before divorcing his first wife, Blaine Trump, more than a decade ago, Robert Trump had been active on Manhattan’s Upper East Side charity circuit.

He avoided the limelight during his elder brother’s presidency, having retired to the Hudson Valley. But he described himself as a big supporter of the White House run in a 2016 interview with the New York Post.

“I support Donald one thousand percent,” Robert Trump said.

In early March of 2020, he married his longtime girlfriend, Ann Marie Pallan.

The eldest Trump sibling and Mary’s father, Fred Trump Jr., struggled with alcoholism and died in 1981 at the age of 43. The president’s surviving siblings include Elizabeth Trump Grau and Maryanne Trump Barry, a retired federal appeals judge.

Authors Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher described Robert Trump as soft spoken but cerebral in “Trump Revealed: The Definitive Biography of the 45th President”: “He lacked Donald’s charismatic showmanship, and he was happy to leave the bravado to his brother, but he could show flashes of Trump temper.”

___

AP researcher Jennifer Farrar contributed to this report from New York.

from Blogger https://ift.tt/33Zkodk via IFTTT

[viralnewstime]

(NEW YORK) — President Donald Trump’s younger brother, Robert Trump, a businessman known for an even keel that seemed almost incompatible with the family name, died Saturday night after being hospitalized in New York, the president said in a statement. He was 71.

The president visited his brother at a New York City hospital on Friday after White House officials said he had become seriously ill. Officials did not immediately release a cause of death.

“It is with heavy heart I share that my wonderful brother, Robert, peacefully passed away tonight,” Donald Trump said in a statement. “He was not just my brother, he was my best friend. He will be greatly missed, but we will meet again. His memory will live on in my heart forever. Robert, I love you. Rest in peace.”

The youngest of the Trump siblings had remained close to the 74-year-old president and, as recently as June, filed a lawsuit on behalf of the Trump family that unsuccessfully sought to stop publication of a tell-all book by the president’s niece, Mary.

Ron Galella–Ron Galella Collection/Getty Images(Pictured from left) Blaine Trump, Robert Trump, Donald Trump and Ivana Trump at the Pierre Hotel in New York City in 1987.

Robert Trump had reportedly been hospitalized in the intensive care unit for several days that same month.

Both longtime businessmen, Robert and Donald had strikingly different personalities. Donald Trump once described his younger brother as “much quieter and easygoing than I am,” and “the only guy in my life whom I ever call ‘honey.’”

Robert Trump began his career on Wall Street working in corporate finance but later joined the family business, managing real estate holdings as a top executive in the Trump Organization.

“When he worked in the Trump Organization, he was known as the nice Trump,” Gwenda Blair, a Trump family biographer, told The Associated Press. “Robert was the one people would try to get to intervene if there was a problem.”

Robert Stewart Trump was born in 1948, the youngest of New York City real estate developer Fred Trump’s five children.

The president, more than two years older than Robert, admittedly bullied his brother in their younger years, even as he praised his loyalty and laid-back demeanor.

“I think it must be hard to have me for a brother but he’s never said anything about it and we’re very close,” Donald Trump wrote in his 1987 bestseller “The Art of the Deal.”

“Robert gets along with almost everyone,” he added, “which is great for me since I sometimes have to be the bad guy.”

In the 1980s, Donald Trump tapped Robert Trump to oversee an Atlantic City casino project, calling him the perfect fit for the job. When it cannibalized his other casinos, though, “he pointed the finger of blame at Robert,” said Blair, author of “The Trumps: Three Generations that Built an Empire.”

“When the slot machines jammed the opening weekend at the Taj Mahal, he very specifically and furiously denounced Robert, and Robert walked out and never worked for his brother again,” Blair said.

A Boston University graduate, Robert Trump later managed the Brooklyn portion of father Fred Trump’s real estate empire, which was eventually sold.

Once a regular boldface name in Manhattan’s social pages, Robert Trump had kept a lower profile in recent years. “He was not a newsmaker,” Blair said.

Before divorcing his first wife, Blaine Trump, more than a decade ago, Robert Trump had been active on Manhattan’s Upper East Side charity circuit.

He avoided the limelight during his elder brother’s presidency, having retired to the Hudson Valley. But he described himself as a big supporter of the White House run in a 2016 interview with the New York Post.

“I support Donald one thousand percent,” Robert Trump said.

In early March of 2020, he married his longtime girlfriend, Ann Marie Pallan.

The eldest Trump sibling and Mary’s father, Fred Trump Jr., struggled with alcoholism and died in 1981 at the age of 43. The president’s surviving siblings include Elizabeth Trump Grau and Maryanne Trump Barry, a retired federal appeals judge.

Authors Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher described Robert Trump as soft spoken but cerebral in “Trump Revealed: The Definitive Biography of the 45th President”: “He lacked Donald’s charismatic showmanship, and he was happy to leave the bravado to his brother, but he could show flashes of Trump temper.”

___

AP researcher Jennifer Farrar contributed to this report from New York.

[hellofastestnewsfan]

(NEW YORK) — President Donald Trump’s younger brother, Robert Trump, a businessman known for an even keel that seemed almost incompatible with the family name, died Saturday night after being hospitalized in New York, the president said in a statement. He was 71.

The president visited his brother at a New York City hospital on Friday after White House officials said he had become seriously ill. Officials did not immediately release a cause of death.

“It is with heavy heart I share that my wonderful brother, Robert, peacefully passed away tonight,” Donald Trump said in a statement. “He was not just my brother, he was my best friend. He will be greatly missed, but we will meet again. His memory will live on in my heart forever. Robert, I love you. Rest in peace.”

The youngest of the Trump siblings had remained close to the 74-year-old president and, as recently as June, filed a lawsuit on behalf of the Trump family that unsuccessfully sought to stop publication of a tell-all book by the president’s niece, Mary.

Ron Galella–Ron Galella Collection/Getty Images(Pictured from left) Blaine Trump, Robert Trump, Donald Trump and Ivana Trump at the Pierre Hotel in New York City in 1987.

Robert Trump had reportedly been hospitalized in the intensive care unit for several days that same month.

Both longtime businessmen, Robert and Donald had strikingly different personalities. Donald Trump once described his younger brother as “much quieter and easygoing than I am,” and “the only guy in my life whom I ever call ‘honey.’”

Robert Trump began his career on Wall Street working in corporate finance but later joined the family business, managing real estate holdings as a top executive in the Trump Organization.

“When he worked in the Trump Organization, he was known as the nice Trump,” Gwenda Blair, a Trump family biographer, told The Associated Press. “Robert was the one people would try to get to intervene if there was a problem.”

Robert Stewart Trump was born in 1948, the youngest of New York City real estate developer Fred Trump’s five children.

The president, more than two years older than Robert, admittedly bullied his brother in their younger years, even as he praised his loyalty and laid-back demeanor.

“I think it must be hard to have me for a brother but he’s never said anything about it and we’re very close,” Donald Trump wrote in his 1987 bestseller “The Art of the Deal.”

“Robert gets along with almost everyone,” he added, “which is great for me since I sometimes have to be the bad guy.”

In the 1980s, Donald Trump tapped Robert Trump to oversee an Atlantic City casino project, calling him the perfect fit for the job. When it cannibalized his other casinos, though, “he pointed the finger of blame at Robert,” said Blair, author of “The Trumps: Three Generations that Built an Empire.”

“When the slot machines jammed the opening weekend at the Taj Mahal, he very specifically and furiously denounced Robert, and Robert walked out and never worked for his brother again,” Blair said.

A Boston University graduate, Robert Trump later managed the Brooklyn portion of father Fred Trump’s real estate empire, which was eventually sold.

Once a regular boldface name in Manhattan’s social pages, Robert Trump had kept a lower profile in recent years. “He was not a newsmaker,” Blair said.

Before divorcing his first wife, Blaine Trump, more than a decade ago, Robert Trump had been active on Manhattan’s Upper East Side charity circuit.

He avoided the limelight during his elder brother’s presidency, having retired to the Hudson Valley. But he described himself as a big supporter of the White House run in a 2016 interview with the New York Post.

“I support Donald one thousand percent,” Robert Trump said.

In early March of 2020, he married his longtime girlfriend, Ann Marie Pallan.

The eldest Trump sibling and Mary’s father, Fred Trump Jr., struggled with alcoholism and died in 1981 at the age of 43. The president’s surviving siblings include Elizabeth Trump Grau and Maryanne Trump Barry, a retired federal appeals judge.

Authors Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher described Robert Trump as soft spoken but cerebral in “Trump Revealed: The Definitive Biography of the 45th President”: “He lacked Donald’s charismatic showmanship, and he was happy to leave the bravado to his brother, but he could show flashes of Trump temper.”

___

AP researcher Jennifer Farrar contributed to this report from New York.

from TIME https://ift.tt/3g1Evdc

[newstechreviews]

(NEW YORK) — President Donald Trump’s younger brother, Robert Trump, a businessman known for an even keel that seemed almost incompatible with the family name, died Saturday night after being hospitalized in New York, the president said in a statement. He was 71.

The president visited his brother at a New York City hospital on Friday after White House officials said he had become seriously ill. Officials did not immediately release a cause of death.

“It is with heavy heart I share that my wonderful brother, Robert, peacefully passed away tonight,” Donald Trump said in a statement. “He was not just my brother, he was my best friend. He will be greatly missed, but we will meet again. His memory will live on in my heart forever. Robert, I love you. Rest in peace.”

The youngest of the Trump siblings had remained close to the 74-year-old president and, as recently as June, filed a lawsuit on behalf of the Trump family that unsuccessfully sought to stop publication of a tell-all book by the president’s niece, Mary.

Ron Galella–Ron Galella Collection/Getty Images(Pictured from left) Blaine Trump, Robert Trump, Donald Trump and Ivana Trump at the Pierre Hotel in New York City in 1987.

Robert Trump had reportedly been hospitalized in the intensive care unit for several days that same month.

Both longtime businessmen, Robert and Donald had strikingly different personalities. Donald Trump once described his younger brother as “much quieter and easygoing than I am,” and “the only guy in my life whom I ever call ‘honey.’”

Robert Trump began his career on Wall Street working in corporate finance but later joined the family business, managing real estate holdings as a top executive in the Trump Organization.

“When he worked in the Trump Organization, he was known as the nice Trump,” Gwenda Blair, a Trump family biographer, told The Associated Press. “Robert was the one people would try to get to intervene if there was a problem.”

Robert Stewart Trump was born in 1948, the youngest of New York City real estate developer Fred Trump’s five children.

The president, more than two years older than Robert, admittedly bullied his brother in their younger years, even as he praised his loyalty and laid-back demeanor.

“I think it must be hard to have me for a brother but he’s never said anything about it and we’re very close,” Donald Trump wrote in his 1987 bestseller “The Art of the Deal.”

“Robert gets along with almost everyone,” he added, “which is great for me since I sometimes have to be the bad guy.”

In the 1980s, Donald Trump tapped Robert Trump to oversee an Atlantic City casino project, calling him the perfect fit for the job. When it cannibalized his other casinos, though, “he pointed the finger of blame at Robert,” said Blair, author of “The Trumps: Three Generations that Built an Empire.”

“When the slot machines jammed the opening weekend at the Taj Mahal, he very specifically and furiously denounced Robert, and Robert walked out and never worked for his brother again,” Blair said.

A Boston University graduate, Robert Trump later managed the Brooklyn portion of father Fred Trump’s real estate empire, which was eventually sold.

Once a regular boldface name in Manhattan’s social pages, Robert Trump had kept a lower profile in recent years. “He was not a newsmaker,” Blair said.

Before divorcing his first wife, Blaine Trump, more than a decade ago, Robert Trump had been active on Manhattan’s Upper East Side charity circuit.

He avoided the limelight during his elder brother’s presidency, having retired to the Hudson Valley. But he described himself as a big supporter of the White House run in a 2016 interview with the New York Post.

“I support Donald one thousand percent,” Robert Trump said.

In early March of 2020, he married his longtime girlfriend, Ann Marie Pallan.

The eldest Trump sibling and Mary’s father, Fred Trump Jr., struggled with alcoholism and died in 1981 at the age of 43. The president’s surviving siblings include Elizabeth Trump Grau and Maryanne Trump Barry, a retired federal appeals judge.

Authors Michael Kranish and Marc Fisher described Robert Trump as soft spoken but cerebral in “Trump Revealed: The Definitive Biography of the 45th President”: “He lacked Donald’s charismatic showmanship, and he was happy to leave the bravado to his brother, but he could show flashes of Trump temper.”

___

AP researcher Jennifer Farrar contributed to this report from New York.

[ladystylestores]

Europe Travel, Hong Kong Law, Russia: Your Wednesday Briefing

(Want to get this briefing by email? Here’s the sign-up.)

Good morning.

We’re covering Europe’s reopening to travelers (but not Americans), China’s sweeping security law for Hong Kong and why Russian internet stars are keeping their distance from Putin.

Europe reopens, but not for U.S., Russia or Brazil

The European Union will open its borders to visitors from 15 countries as of today. Those countries do not include the U.S., Brazil or Russia, where coronavirus caseloads continue to balloon.

The list of approved nations includes Australia, Canada and New Zealand; travelers from China will also be allowed in, if China reciprocates. E.U. countries are desperate to restart tourism while preventing new outbreaks.

The decision came as more than 47,000 cases were reported in the U.S. on Tuesday. Dr. Anthony Fauci, the country’s top infectious disease expert, said the number of new infections could reach 100,000 a day if the surges in many states were not contained.

What it means: E.U. officials tried to appear apolitical in their choices, but leaving the U.S. off the list was a high-profile rebuke of the Trump administration’s handling of the crisis.

Here are the latest updates and maps of where the virus has spread.

The Times is providing free access to much of our coronavirus coverage, and our Coronavirus Briefing newsletter — like all of our newsletters — is free. Please consider supporting our journalism with a subscription.

What we know about the Hong Kong security law

China adopted a national security law for Hong Kong on Tuesday that gives the central authorities sweeping powers to crack down on dissent in the city.

The legislation, which had not previously been seen by the public and took effect immediately, provides a blueprint for the authorities and courts to suppress the protest movement that has roiled the city for a year, and for China’s national security apparatus to pervade Hong Kong society.

In ambiguous wording, it lays out new crimes that carry maximum penalties of life imprisonment. Here are some key points:

Activities like damaging government buildings and interrupting public transit are described as acts of subversion and terrorism — a measure directly aimed at antigovernment protesters.

The law allows Beijing to seize broad control in security cases, especially during crises. Suspects in cases could be sent to face trial in mainland China, where the opaque judicial system is controlled by the Communist Party.

Focusing heavily on the perceived role of foreigners in Hong Kong’s unrest, the law will impose harsh penalties on anyone who urges foreign countries to criticize or to impose sanctions on the government.

What it means: At least two groups that have called for Hong Kong to become an independent state said they would stop operating in the city. Activists are also worried that the law will be used against people who peacefully call for autonomy rather than independence.

Police insist killing of a Black man in Denmark was not racist

A young Black man was tortured and killed on a remote island in Denmark by two white men with known far-right affiliations, the police say. But the authorities are refusing to call it a hate crime and are denying that race was a factor.

The man, Phillip Mbuji Johansen, a 28-year-old engineering student of Danish and Tanzanian descent, had gone to a party on Monday and was later invited for a beer in the woods, his mother told a local newspaper. His mutilated body was found at a camp site the next morning.

Two suspects, brothers who have not yet been publicly identified, were arrested on Wednesday on manslaughter charges. One of them has a swastika and the words “white power” tattooed on his leg. The other has expressed support for a Danish extreme right party called Stram Kurs, or Hard Line.

Context: Between 2007 and 2016, racially motivated hate crimes in Denmark more than quadrupled, according to one report. Local activists say the country has a pattern of denial in racially motivated crimes, in some cases because of anti-immigrant attitudes.

Related: King Philippe of Belgium has expressed his “deepest regrets” for his country’s brutal past in a letter to the president of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the first public acknowledgment from a member of the Belgian royal family of the devastating toll of eight decades of colonization.

Adidas: A top executive resigned on Tuesday after a number of Black employees pushed for her ouster and said the company fostered a racist and discriminatory workplace.

If you have 10 minutes, this is worth it

Russia’s internet stars turn away from Putin

Young Russians — who used to be among President Vladimir Putin’s most avid supporters — have swung hard the other way.

Mr. Putin seems assured of victory today in a referendum that would allow him to amend the Constitution and stay in power until 2036. But he has lost his pop culture cachet, and online celebrities are now reluctant to be associated with the Kremlin. “The public mood has really changed,” one Russian blogger said.

Snapshot: Above, the East Anglia One wind turbine project off Britain’s east coast. The pandemic’s fallout may have rocked the oil and gas industry, but producers of clean energy have charged ahead, complete with measures to protect workers from the virus as they fix turbines.

What we’re listening to: This retro radio station, where it is always the summer of 1997. “The desktop themes and tunes alone will make your day,” says Remy Tumin on the Briefings team.

Now, a break from the news

Cook: Sichuan chile crisp with peanut streusel doesn’t sound like it should work, but it does — especially when paired with a sundae. You can also omit the peanut streusel or replace it with crushed peanuts.

Watch: Cinéma vérité raises fascinating questions about the genre’s capacity to accurately mirror the world. Our reviewer recommends “Crisis” and “Salesman” if you want to become acquainted with a style that tests the boundaries of nonfiction filmmaking.

Do: Bridal boutiques are offering virtual shopping experiences where brides, grooms and members of their wedding parties can try on and buy their attire online. Here are a few options for shopping without having to leave home.

Staying safe at home is easier when you have plenty of things to read, cook, watch and do. At Home has our full collection of ideas.

And now for the Back Story on …

Black with a capital B

The Times announced on Tuesday that it would start using uppercase “Black” to describe people and cultures of African origin, both in the U.S. and elsewhere. Here is what our National editor, Marc Lacey, wrote about the change.

My father was born a Negro. Then he was black. Late in life, much to his discomfort, he became an African-American.

Everyone in this country who traces their ancestors back to Africa has experienced a panoply of racial identifiers over their lives, with some terms imposed and others embraced. In the course of a single day in 2020, I might be called black, African-American or a person of color. I’m also labeled, in a way that makes my brown skin crawl, as diverse, ethnic or a minority.

Amid the nation’s reckoning with racism following the death of George Floyd, another name is being widely adopted: Black with a capital B.

John Eligon, a New York Times national correspondent who writes about race, captures the discussion in an article. As he notes, each name change brings spirited discussion. Isn’t black a color, not a race? If one capitalizes Black, should one also capitalize White? And Brown?

As one who works in words, I would never suggest that word choice does not matter. Words can affect the thinking of both those who write them and those who read them. So I am in favor of pushing the shift key — but I doubt it will be the last time we edit what people like me are called.

[You can sign up for the Race/Related newsletter here.]

That’s it for this briefing. Is working from home working out? See you next time.

— Isabella

Thank you To Theodore Kim and Jahaan Singh for the rest of the break from the news. You can reach the team at briefing@nytimes.com.

P.S. • We’re listening to “The Daily.” Our latest episode is about the Supreme Court’s ruling on abortion this week. • Here’s today’s Mini Crossword puzzle, and a clue: “Adios, ___!” (five letters). You can find all our puzzles here. • A trove of internal ISIS documents obtained by the Times journalist Rukmini Callimachi and her colleagues in 2018 has been released to the public as part of a project with George Washington University.

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[the-record-columns]

August 7, 2017: Columns

They tricked the Yankees at Lynchburg...

General Jubal Early

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

A few years ago, on a trip to Lynchburg, Virginia to see our daughter Jordan, we visited the Lynchburg Museum. This was during the time of the 150th anniversary of the Civil War and the Museum had some amazing and interesting displays. One that caught my eye, and memory, was about the Battle for Lynchburg, a battle, as it turns out, which was almost a non-event, thanks to a clever ruse devised by the city's defenders.

The Battle for Lynchburg, June 17-18, 1864, is not very well-known or often written about as Civil War history goes. It really wasn't much of a battle, as compared to some of the horrific bloodbaths like Gettysburg with nearly 50,000 casualties—with most reports that there were no more that 900 killed and wounded in the Battle for Lynchburg—and this was a combined total for Union and Confederate.

Before the war, Lynchburg was a bustling trade center and transportation hub with some saying that it had the second-highest per-capita income in the country. During the war it also was home to numerous wartime hospitals with trains coming and going at all hours transporting the wounded. For both these strategic reasons, Union commander General U. S. Grant ordered General David Hunter to take the city of Lynchburg. The Confederates were led by General Jubal Early who knew that he was badly outnumbered by the massing Union forces, and was literally visiting the hospitals to recruit soldiers for what he felt was the coming invasion.

At this point the story and the legend are probably going to become mixed up, but, according to the people at the Lynchburg Museum, either General Early or some of his officers hatched a plan to convince the Union general that an invasion of Lynchburg would be a disaster of Biblical proportions for the Union forces. Their plan called for the Confederates to convince the Yankees that there were so many soldiers poised to defend Lynchburg that an attack would be basically suicide.

General Early contacted the railroad and had trains set up to be coming and going day and night over the trestles and tracks in and out of Lynchburg. This was very noisy effort to convince the watching Union front men that reinforcements were coming in--in record numbers.

 The trains however, were empty.

 In the story I was told, with each train's arrival, a small brass band loudly heralded their coming, thankfully celebrating having more and more “reinforcements.” In one version, two Union spies dressed as very ragged Confederate soldiers inquired of a prominent Lynchburg woman as to the state of the defenses for Lynchburg. With absolutely no knowledge of the ongoing ruse by

General Early, it is said that the lady, feeling so sorry at the distressed condition of the men who she had no idea were spies, tried to be encouraging, telling them not to worry, that over 20,000 men were already standing by to repel the coming Union attack.

 And that was the report taken back to General Hunter.

In addition to the information the spies took back to camp, the Museum story went on to indicate that, along with he trains running night and day with reinforcements, prostitutes from Lynchburg were dispatched to the more advanced areas occupied by the Union troops. As they were plying their trade, they also managed to let slip out about their ongoing “problem” with there being so many thousands of soldiers in Lynchburg.

So the Battle for Lynchburg never developed into what would be considered a memorable wartime event, while what skirmishes did occur were held off by the badly outnumbered Confederates. Everything just seemed to work out well for General Early, certainly the terrain was also to his advantage. But, the bottom line on all of this is that the Union General, David Hunter, became, for whatever reason, convinced that it was he that was badly outnumbered, and he never saw the city limits of Lynchburg.

 What could have been a huge and costly battle on both sides, just may have been avoided by a bunch of noisy boxcars, and Union soldiers who believed what they were told by some beautiful Southern ladies working at the worlds oldest profession.

Starting over...

By LAURA WELBORN

Starting over is one of the toughest things we have to do, but the real battle is always in your mind. And your mind is under your control, not the other way around.  So how do we control our minds?...

“Change, evolve, and start over.   No one wins a game of chess by only moving forward; sometimes you have to move backward to put yourself in a position to win.  And this is a perfect metaphor for life.  Sometimes when it feels like you’re running into one dead end after another, it’s actually a sign that you’re not on the right path.  Maybe you were meant to hang a left back when you took a right, and that’s perfectly fine.  Life gradually teaches us that U-turns are allowed.  So turn around when you must!  

Accept and embrace daily discomfort, for the right reasons.  The key is to understand that most forms of discomfort actually help us grow into our strongest and smartest selves.  Many of us were raised by loving parents who did so much to make our childhoods comfortable, that we inadvertently grew up to subconsciously believe that we don’t need discomfort in our lives.  And now we run from it constantly.  The problem with this is that, by running from discomfort, we are constrained to stay with the activities and opportunities within our comfort zones.  

Ritualize mindfulness into your daily routines,

 Being aware of what’s happening in the present moment without wishing it were different

 Enjoying each pleasant experience without holding on when it changes (which it will)

 Being with each unpleasant experience without fearing it will always be this way (which it won’t)

 Find something to be grateful for in the present moment, despite the situation.  Being grateful starts with being present.  You can’t appreciate your life when you’re not paying attention to it.  We make our present situations much worse when we replay difficult past situations in our heads In the present moment, our real situation is rarely as convoluted as we make it out to be.  And we can meet this moment with grace and gratitude, if we can truly stay in the present.

When our mind drifts into the past or speculates about the future, we must do our best to catch ourselves, and then refocus mindfully back on the present.  Once we’re back, the key is to accept the moment as it is.  Our reality can ruin us if we deny it and fight it … or we can accept it for what it is, be grateful for it, and gradually make the best of it.  

 Do something small for someone else – make them the center of your universe for a little while.  We all have the tendency to put ourselves at the center of the universe, and see everything from the viewpoint of how it affects us.  And this can have all kinds of adverse effects, from feeling sorry for ourselves when things aren’t going exactly as planned, to doubting ourselves when we aren’t perfect, to feeling lost and alone with our issues when we’re having a bad day or going through hard times.  It’s one of life’s great paradoxes: when we serve others we end up benefiting as much if not more than those we serve.  So whenever you feel a bit lost or stuck with your own issues, try to shift your focus from your circumstances to the circumstances of those around you.  Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” ask, “How can I help you?” (inserts from Marc and Angel Hack Life blog)

 Islamic Mandate: It’s Their Way or No Way

 By EARL COX

Special to The Record

‘Tolerance’ is today’s biggest buzz word.  Around the world conferences are being held in an attempt to foster understanding and create an atmosphere of tolerance between the three monotheistic faiths; Christianity, Judaism and Islam. I am an proponent of the need to understand one another and I’m particularly keen on the need to understand those who adhere to the Islamic faith.  In order for Christians and Jews (and the West in general) to safely co-exist with Muslims we must possess more than a surface or media-generated knowledge of Islamic culture and ideology.  In the West we seem desperate to appear inclusive and this to our own detriment if we fail to grasp even the basic principles of Islam.

Islamic thinking, culture and values are quite opposite from those of the West and we must wake up to this fact and shed the cloak of ignorance.  

Word definitions are key to understanding foundational Islamic truths.  When a Muslim speaks the word ‘peace’ it is not with the same meaning as when the word is uttered by a Westerner.  Rarely, if ever, will a Muslim speak the word ‘peace’ without also uttering the word ‘justice’ in the same breath.  This is because the concept of peace, as defined by the West, does not exist for a Muslim. The closest we can come to an understanding of the Islamic definition of peace is the “absence of conflict” or “reconciliation” and neither of these encompasses the fullness of the Western definition.  We often hear Muslims speak of ‘peace with justice.’ What, exactly, does this mean? For starters, the word ‘justice,’ as defined by Islam, can only be achieved when all submit to the rule of Allah.  When a Muslim speaks of ‘peace with justice,’ he or she is speaking of the ‘absence of conflict when all submit to the rule of Allah.’ Clearly this is not what the Western world is seeking to achieve through peace conferences and treaties yet this is exactly what Muslims are seeking and it is what the West is failing to understand. Muslims make open declarations of this by carefully choosing their words because they know Westerners are naïve and ignorant lacking understanding of what they are openly declaring.  We have failed to study the Islamic rule book and game plan and this is to our detriment.

When a Muslim speaks about peacefully co-existing with Jews and Christians, they are not speaking of an equal co-existence.  The Muslim is actually speaking of allowing Jews and Christians to exist in Muslim societies but in a lesser status called a dhimi (almost a sub-human status) whereby Jews and Christians are subservient to Muslims and submitted to the rule of Allah. Furthermore, in Muslim controlled countries, Christians and Jews must pay a special tax.  Only when these conditions are met will Muslims allow Jews and Christians to exist in an Islamic society.  Clearly this is not what the West is seeking as we pursue and promote the peace process.

 The basic tenets of Islam are fairly easy to understand if we recognize that the Islamic world is not playing by the same set of rules as the Western world.  Misleading statements, trickery and full blown deception are perfectly acceptable instruments in the hands of Muslims.  In fact, Islam instructs its followers to deceitfully enter into treaties and negotiations with the infidel (that’s you and me and anyone who does not worship Allah) if the end result will further the Islamic agenda and that agenda is world domination.  In other words, the end DOES justify the means and this is opposite from what we in the West view as acceptable or honorable behavior. In fact, we often say ‘the end does NOT justify the means.’ For a Muslim to agree to refrain from violence for some length of time, in other words, if they agree to an ‘absence of conflict’ with Israel or other non-Muslim country, the Muslim is not betraying his or her faith. To have a period of time where there is an absence of conflict affords Muslims the opportunity to regroup, plan and re-arm.

Islam has been in a state of revival for a very long time gaining followers in countries around the world.  It’s time, maybe long past time, for those who love God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to wake up before we are all forced to wear Burqas or Keffiyehs and find ourselves prisoners of Islam – a religion whereby it’s their way or no way.

#findyourbliss

By HEATHER DEAN

Record Reporter

We could all use a little bit more peace, love and that perfect shade of lipstick.

        I was going to write this week about how to stay calm as Mercury retrograde smacks us in the face this weekend.

        How to stay grounded with all the extra energy of the upcoming eclipse.

       How to stay focused and not dismayed by the Twitter storms coming out of our great nation's capital.

       To take time for the sparkly summer sunsets, and seize the bliss.  

       And as I walked out of our offices on Main Street yesterday pondering my column, it happened.

       My bliss was challenged....

       Taken by surprise, at a person coming out of the alleyway, yelling, aghast at the rude insults being hurled at me, by a person I didn't know but who was intent on judging me for my style of dress and tattoos.

       Yes I was mad. Yes, I wanted to retaliate.

       With blood pressure rising, it took all I could muster to hold my tongue (and my Irish temper) and to find my Bliss.  But, I did. What I managed to first utter was "Please Don't Judge Me. God doesn't like that, and God is watching..." (Assuming of course that she believed in any god, what with that unfettered rant.)

       Even as she continued to walk toward me, and scream more profanities in front of onlookers, I turned and looked her in the eye, and quoted my beloved and amazing friend Danielle, “Peace be with you..." (Albeit through gritted teeth.) She didn’t even pause in her vitriolic rant.

       Shaking my head, I walked away, and I got in my car as she continued to call me names.

       I suppose my point is this: When accosted by those who would take your peace, repeat after me: This is not my circus, and these are not my monkeys. My monkeys fly....

       #findyourbliss.

An Invitation, Jazz and Wine

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

My first visit to Chesterfield SC was the result     of an email I received from Glenn Gulledge. He told me that while he was home with the flu he saw one of our Life In the Carolinas episodes and just knew that I needed to come to Chesterfield to check out the history and Southern charm that makes the place he lives so special. We went back and forth with a few emails and before I knew it my GPS was programmed for a new journey.

Glenn met me in uptown Chesterfield and gave me the grand tour, which didn’t take very long. We had dinner with several local folks, including Jane and Farris Pigg, the Mayor and others. It was a great night of getting to know new friends. It seemed like everyone was a great storyteller and I could see why Glenn had invited me.

After dinner I was taken to what I thought was the local bed and breakfast, but as it turned out I had the whole house to myself. It was full of great antiques and had the feel of rich history.  I enjoyed a few reflective moments as I sat in a chair that I was sure was well over 150 years old and I thought about what life must have been like in this small Southern town over the years.

The next morning I met Glenn at a local breakfast place on Main Street. As our meal and conversation progressed I shared with him that the house was great but I felt the need to be careful because it seemed like I was sleeping in a museum or an antique shop.  He said, "You were!"

After breakfast we made our way down the road to Cheraw. The town square features a statue of the legendary jazz musician Dizzy Gillespie, who was born in Cheraw. The town now hosts the official South Carolina Jazz Festival every October. I enjoy jazz and I couldn’t believe that this important part of Carolina history remained unknown to me for so many years.

By the end of the day I had learned so much and met so many great people who were open and willing to share their stories and hospitality. I suppose it should be no surprise that the people of Cheraw have a long history of being kind to strangers and folks from afar.

Saint David’s Episcopal Church was used as a hospital during both the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. Cheraw was one of the few places during the Civil War that Sherman did not burn, even though his troops spent several days in the town. I have heard different stories as to why this was the case, but I tend to believe that it was likely the people.

There is also a bit of logic to the notion that the Maderia wine that the tired Union solders found in Cheraw may have provided a more relaxed environment for everyone.

I am not sure if anyone can provide a definitive answer as to why the town was not destroyed, but it survived mostly unscathed. Because of this, Cheraw has a large number of historic homes that survived the war; many homes in other towns did not.

My discoveries were many. I would return to Chesterfield County SC for many stories, pilgrimages that had their beginnings with an email from someone who loves his home and the people who make it so special.

In the midst of many distractions and busy lives it’s good to know that Southern hospitality and caring people are still part of our society.  

 Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday 12 noon. For more on the show visit  www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com.

Copyright 2017 Carl White

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[brendagilliam2]

30 beautiful examples of paper art

We may live in a digital world, but our love affair with paper art has by no means diminished. Folded into origami and kirigami, laser-cut, layered and made into sculptures, paper artists can transform a humble sheet of old tree into a spectacular artwork. 

Here are some great of examples of paper art being used imaginatively within contemporary design, giving new life to one of the most ancient arts. You’re sure to find the inspiration you’re looking for…

01. Self Preserving 

This campaign for Lush even moves

The Self Preserving campaign from cosmetics company Lush to promote its use of natural ingredients saw shop windows all over Europe fill with epic paper art. It was a collaborative effort, with artist Charlotte Day creating original illustrations of the natural ingredients found in the product range, which were then brought to life in 3D using textured paper to create shop window displays designed by Owen Gildersleeve.

A special hero installation in Lush’s flagship store in London’s Oxford Street even moved, masterminded by 3D designer Thomas Forsyth. “Many hours were spent experimenting with different algorithms and code structures so that we could give the flowers more believable and animated movements,” explains Forsyth. “We’ve actually ended up creating a program in which the flowers randomly generate their own movements, so when it feels like one of the flowers has turned to look at you, it kind of has.”

02. Circling

Circling is a personal exploration of anxiety and helplessness

Paper art duo Julie Wilkinson and Joyanne Horscroft aka Makerie Studio design and create showpieces for window installations, advertising and editorial clients. “Circling is an extremely personal project, one that came from trying to deal with a period of intense fear and worry,” says the duo. “Bright colours and happy thoughts are usually our driving forces, but some days take their toll, and this was our way of dealing with anxiety. Making something constructive out of a stressful state of mind was a way of feeling less helpless, literally turning darkness into beauty.”

Each piece was handcrafted from iridescent gold and black paper, and features a central creature surrounded by circling predators.

03. Phidala

Eric Standley’s work echoes Islamic art and Gothic architecture

Virgina-based designer Eric Standley takes paper art to a new level with his incredibly intricate, multi-layered creations, often inspired by Islamic or Gothic architecture. 

This detailed design is based around the fractal geometry that occurs naturally in the universe. “When a DNA braid is viewed from the top down, the layered double helix rotation abides by the golden ratio (phi),” explains Standley. “I began applying phi to the drawing processes of Kismet and Phidala.”

Take a look at his website for more breathtakingly detailed creations, or read our article on his laser-cut paper art.

04. Tissue series

Lisa Nilsson’s quilling turns anatomical cross-sections into things of beauty

Lisa Nilsson works in a variety of media, but for us her stand-out work involves quilling. We can’t resist her Tissue series: a collection of anatomical cross-sections rendered in paper. 

Says Nicholls, “I find quilling exquisitely satisfying for rendering the densely squished and lovely internal landscape of the human body in cross section.”

05. Forest Folks

Zim & Zou’s vibrant paper sculptures are featured all over the world

French artists Lucie Thomas and Thibault Zimmerman make up renowned paper art studio Zim & Zou. The duo’s colourful paper sculptures appear all over the world – including in this series of installations in a new Hermès store in Dubai. 

The series is based around the theme of nature. “In this project, spectators have a sneak peek of the curious characters living inside this environment,” the pair state. “This microscopic point of view, where plants… reign as masters, is like a kind of picture, a flash, a precise instant in nature’s unrestrained run.”

06. European Birds 

It’s hard to resist these detailed and colourful paper birds

Colombian-born Diana Beltran Herrera specialises in amazing paper recreations of nature, her work featuring wonderfully detailed flowers and plants and the most incredibly realistic birds of all shapes and sizes. Recently, the Bristol-based artist has also started incorporating insects, butterflies and fish into her work, demonstrating the same level of attention to detail.

07. We Sent Their Briefs Back

This is definitely the best way to approach a brief

South African agency TBWA needed a way of getting clients’ attention, and hit upon this novel way of tackling a brief: taking actual paper briefs and turning them into eye-catching paper art incorporating concepts relevant to the specific brand message, and then sending the briefs back to the client. The project was a huge success, attracting new work within five days.

08. Nissan Juke

This life-size Nissan car was built from foam board and card

Nissan wanted to create a life-size origami version of its Juke car to celebrate the model’s fifth anniversary. Inspired by its Japanese origins and the craftsmanship of UK manufacturing, the company turned to British designer and illustrator Owen Gildersleeve to make its vision reality. As with the Lush project above, Gildersleeve brought in Thomas Forsyth to lend his 3D build expertise to this epic undertaking. The final car was built from heavyweight card over a foam board skeleton.

09. The Tree of Knowledge

This book sculpture represents the Tree of Knowledge

There’s plenty of paper art out there that incorporates books into the design, but Spanish designer Malena Valcárcel‘s designs are particularly magical. “I transform books into a new story in a way to make people stop and appreciate, if just for a moment, the magic of books,” she says. Take a look at the range of book paper art designs in Valcárcel’s Etsy store, along with some delicate paper jewellery.

10. Cut Scene

Paper Dandy’s Cut Scene exhibition recreates Star Wars scenes

Making a living from paper art is a difficult task, but thanks to his talents and enthusiasm, Marc Hagan-Guirey – aka Paper Dandy – has done just that. For his Star Wars-inspired Cut Scene exhibition, the artist create 12 kirigami models of different iconic scenes, each cut from a single sheet of paper. The project received rave reviews.

Hagan-Guirey has also released a book entitled Horrogami, which includes 20 Kirigami projects inspired by cult horror tales such as Dracula, Frankenstein, Sleepy Hollow and King Kong, along with step-by-step instructions to make your own.

11. Decorex Expo

We’re big fans of Hagan-Guirey’s wonderful paper creations

Just one example of Marc Hagan-Guirey’s work in this list would seem like we were short changing you. So feast your eyes on his kirigami design for Decorex International, a company that puts on big interior design expos in the UK. Read more in our article here.

12. Fiat Dobló

D’Avila Studio used overlapping paper to create depth

Brazil-based illustration agency D’Avila Studio created this vibrant paper art piece as part of Fiat Motors’ campaign to promote its SUV, the Dobló Adventure. The team created two prints, both of which placed the paper overlapping on layers to create an impressive depth effect.

13. Paper Dragon

This dragon paper art was a team effort

This majestic dragon was created by a group of artists at INK studio in Belgium. It stands at above knee height and was made entirely of paper – it’s definitely worth taking a look at the studio’s website for some making-of photos. The dragon now resides peacefully – we are told – in the studio’s offices.

14. Day of the Dead

Koleva celebrates the Day of the Dead with intricate masks

This incredible paper art series from Bulgaria-based designer Tsvetislava Koleva celebrates the Day of the Dead with intricate and colourful masks that quite frankly, took our breath away (read our article here). Each creation takes a different theme and a different colour palette (shown here: Lace and Gold). Koleva specialises in paper art creations – her beautiful but slightly unsettling fashion masks are also well worth a look. 

15. 360° Book

Oono’s books open up to tell their stories layer by layer

Japanese artist and designer Yusuke Oono creates books that open up to tell their stories as a multi-layered 3D scene. Each page is a separate laser-cut plane, and together they make up deep and gorgeous 3D images that reveal the story as you make your way from the front to the back of the book.

Next page: 15 more incredible examples of paper art

16. Malmö Festival

This paper art almost looks like it was created with Photoshop

This identity for Malmö Festival was created by Swedish design agency Snask and features some wonderfully colourful paper art creations. Used for the print advertisement as well as huge promotional art installations, this is an impeccable example of what can be achieved with patience and creativity.

17. Women

White’s paper art is incredibly delicate

Artist Maude White likes to do something a little different when it comes to her paper art. She meticulously hand-cuts each piece to create works that are almost like lace. Inspired mostly by nature, and creating pieces that feature birds, leaves and flowers, White also creates beautiful paper art portraits of people. Each piece can take thousands of tiny cuts, with White working for hours on end to perfect each one.

She updates her Instagram feed with all her latest works, and is well worth a follow.

18. Nerd Love

Nerd Love is a collection of cult characters

Meghan Stratman originally started Nerd Love with the intention of creating a new piece of nerdy fan art every Monday for a year, but it turned into an alphabetical series – one geek hero for each letter of the alphabet, from How to Train your Dragon’s Astrid (above) to Tali’Zorah from Mass Effect.

“I like to include bright colours and a sense of humour in my art,” explains Stratman, “and enjoy combining elements to humorous effect, such as badgers sporting fezzes or weasels wearing rocket packs.”

19. Magic Circle

Each of Brown’s paper sculptures is hugely time consuming

The artist Rogan Brown is inspired in part by the tradition of scientific drawing and model making, and particularly the work of artist-scientists such as Ernst Haeckel. He explains: “My work is an exploration and re-presentation of natural organic forms both mineral and vegetal.”

20. Hyundai lettering

Just one of a set of tiny, detailed paper letters made by People Too

This project for Hyundai saw Russian design duo Alexey Lyapunov and Lena Erlich (aka People Too) creating tens of tiny, paper scenes. The concept was based around the slogan ‘Business works better with US in it’, with People Too creating letters representing different types of business (above is the ‘N’ for a care home company). To get a better grasp of the scale of the project, take a look at the duo’s work-in-progress photos.

21. Origami animals

Origami gets a unique twist using handmade Vietnamese paper

Vietnamese artist Nguyen Hung Curong shows off the possibilities of origami in his detailed, lifelike paper art sculptures. Curong took up the hobby when he was just five, and created his first original design when he was just 10 years old. He’s continued to practise the art of origami and is now able to create amazingly detailed and lifelike models, usually from just one square of Vietnamese handmade paper called Dó.

22. Fairy Forest

This magical paper art was featured in the Harrods Magazine

This charming forest series was created by Makerie Studio for Harrods Magazine. The sets were created using layers of iridescent white paper cut into plants, butterflies and miniature mushrooms. Into each was placed a fairy sculpture by Robin Wright , and luxury jewellery.

23. Little Houses

These colourful creations are part of a counting book

Helen Musselwhite is an illustrator based in the UK. A creative with a particular knack for paper art, she’s previously worked with The National Theatre, Nokia and Stella McCartney. For her own book, Little Houses, Musselwhite fashioned several sets of paper dwellings from around the world. Young readers can count their way from one Scottish crofter’s cottage right up to 10 canal-side townhouses in Amsterdam.

24. Paper sculpture

Nicholls’ paper rendering of fur has to be seen to be believed

After being introduced to the idea of paper as a medium at art school, Calvin Nicholls’ first paper sculpture was a collaboration with artist Jonathan Milne back in 1983, and he quickly felt the draw of working in paper. He uses heavy paper stock for structure and lighter paper for fur and fine detail, and he constantly refers to his drawings and study photos to ensure that the assembled pieces are true to the original plan. Read more about the artist in our article on his stunning paper art animals.

25. Myths

Ojala’s creations aren’t strictly paper art

Eiko Ojala’s Myths designs were created digitally but without the aid of 3D software. The illustrator draws everything by hand to create landscapes, figures and portraits that look as if they’ve been cut from paper. His client list includes the likes of ADC, the Guardian, the V&A and IBM. 

26. Continental Breakfast

This paper art is made from old maps

Michaela Mihalyiová describes herself as a ‘freelance pencil holder and Slovakian palm lover’. She creates sweet (and not so sweet… what’s that ocean in the bottom left?) paper art and animations that she shares on her Tumblr site. This design was crafted from 30-year-old maps.

27. Candy Crush

Yulia Brodskaya is one of the most well-known of the contemporary designers working with paper art. She combines classic design principles to create beautiful and thought-provoking visual fusions. “Paper always held a special fascination for me,” says the artist. “I’ve tried many different methods and techniques of working with it, until I found the way that has turned out to be ‘the one’ for me: now I draw with paper instead of on it.”

28. Visit Bristol Christmas Campaign

Pierpoint assembles her nature-inspired art from card and paper, then edits it in Photoshop

Inspired by nature and its never-ending beauty, Sam Pierpoint has constructed a range of colourful, 3D creations that transport you to an entirely different world. This paper art sculpture was part of Visit Bristol’s Christmas campaign, and features some of the city’s most loved attractions. The night-time scene was created with G.F Smith papers and lit with LED lights, which were carefully threaded through the sculpture. Watch the making-of video below.

29. La Siesta

This personal project is all about hugs

In his illustrations and paper art, Juan Carlos Viñas Ballesteros (aka Jotaká) aims to create good vibes. One personal project sure to do just that is ‘La Siesta’ – a series of paper illustrations all about hugs; their importance and the ideal time to receive them.

30. Midnight Creatures

This book has creatures hiding in the shadows

Helen Friel is a freelance paper engineer and illustrator, living and working in London, with clients including Vogue, The Telegraph and Ryan Air. Her book, Midnight Creatures, includes five pop-up scenes full of hidden creatures. To find them, the reader needs to turn the lights out and use a torch to find them in the shadows that appear on their wall.

Related articles:

Why you should make time for creative side projects

How to draw and paint – 100 pro tips and tutorials

Doodle art: 52 great examples

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