#i don't have as much patience as you to draw the webbing

[transgender-catboy]

had a bite, hope you don't mind

Happy Birthday to my pal!!!!

per proud spider-man tradition, I am late on this

[travelingtwentysomething]

A Sticky Situation

- Hailey (on AO3) -

Harringroveson x Spideypoolverine Crossover

(I recommend reading on ao3, also, reblog to show some support 🫶 Steve Harrington isn't the only one with a praise kink around here)

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Steve Harrington walked across the parking lot toward home after a long day at Midtown High. He was staring at his feet, feeling a bit dejected because Mr. Stark wasn't around for the next few weeks, so he couldn't get in as much lab time as he wanted. And he was starting to run low on Web Fluid.

He could try and make some in the Bio-Chem lab after school, but ever since they'd worked out his new formula, Mr. Stark had been allowing Steve to make the fluid in his lab, providing the chemicals and equipment necessary to make it in higher quantities. It just wasn't coming out the same in the school lab and he ran the risk of getting caught stealing resources when he actually made the amounts he needed to keep him supplied for even a few hours of patrolling.

Steve stopped mid step when a cigarette butt flung into his field of view, bouncing off his shoe and scattering embers into the wind.

He looked up, startled to find Billy Hargrove striding up to him- a fiery expression lighting up his handsome face, blue eyes glaring furiously, his swagger hypnotic as he charged like a predator stalking his prey. His anger made his physique particularly striking as he tensed and flexed his arms, his powerful stride making each stomp of his doc martins thud heavily against the concrete. His blond curls were wildly disheveled on top of his head, but hanging in ringlets down the back of his neck from drying salty with sweat after Athletics class. Steve tried not to stare, but he knew Billy did it on purpose. He liked the attention.

Clearly.

Or he wouldn't find a reason to be so pissed off at Steve that he confronted him every day after school before Steve could quietly disappear onto the streets of Queens for his patrols.

"What is it this time, Billy? Failing remedial English again- need a tutor?" Steve snapped, rolling his eyes. He did not have the patience for this today. He wanted to go to Stark Tower and beg Happy to let him try and see if Friday would let him have access to Mr. Stark's lab, or at least one of the R&D labs, so he could get back to patrolling. As it stood, he would barely make it downtown before running out of webs if he wasn't careful.

"Oh, he bites, watch out!" Billy snickered, aggressively wrapping his thick arm around Steve's shoulders, tightening it around the back of his neck until Steve had to bend over into Billy's space or risk falling into him. Steve could smell Billy's musky armpit, see the hair brushing the tight edge of his white tank- Steve was too close to Billy.

"Let go, you animal, I don't have time for your shit today." Steve used a fraction more strength than he ever had with Billy, thinking it would be enough to break the bully's near headlock on him without hurting him.

Steve froze when nothing happened- Billy let out a riotous laugh and squeezed harder.

"Plant your feet Harrington, might actually be able to get some leverage this time." Billy yanked harder on Steve's neck, causing him to stumble over his feet. Billy had been right- he didn't have them planted. Now, he had landed face first against Billy's cleavage.

Steve groaned, embarrassed beyond belief, fully aware that their little scuffle was drawing some attention from the few kids who were still hanging around the parking lot an hour after school had officially let out. He could hear them whispering about a fight, getting excited at the prospect of witnessing some student-on-student violence.

One kid shut that down with a snort and a, "Nah, it's just Harringrove's After-School Homo-erotica Hour: Daddy Punishes His Good Boy, Part 69."

Both Billy and Steve's heads lifted and swiveled to make direct eye contact with the boy who was watching them from across the lot. Steve recognized him from his art class. The guy was always talking to MJ "No one calls me Robin, Steve, that's my government name" Buckley about lgbtq activism.

"Oh shit, they did not just hear that?" The boy went white as a ghost as he looked around to see if maybe they were looking at something else around him- sure that they couldn't have heard that whispered joke to his boyfriend while they were next to the busy basketball court on the opposite side of the lot. The guy hurriedly grabbed his boyfriend's hand and marched toward the subway as if nothing happened, both laughing to cover their mild terror as they retreated.

Billy immediately let go of Steve and turned him around, shoving him towards his Camaro.

When Billy kept shoving, none too gently, Steve gave up on resisting and let him corral him until he had him pressed up against the passenger side of his car. Billy's tense shoulder and neck muscles displayed a message Steve was sure he could read even if he was blind- there would be no escape.

"Get in." Billy opened the door next to Steve.

"What?!" Steve sputtered. Billy had never invited him into his car before. Though this felt more like a demand- a kidnapping, if you will.

"Just fucking- Get. In." Billy grabbed Steve by the shoulder and shoved him down into the passenger seat. Steve sat numbly, staring up through his lashes at Billy leaning over the open door, boxing Steve in and making him feel... Well, Steve thought he should have felt trapped- Spidey-sense should have been ringing alarm bells, but it was conspicuously absent right now. Steve kind of felt- almost cozy in the small space that was created by Billy hovering over him, closing him in and blocking the view of anyone's prying eyes- making this interaction suddenly feel more private.

Intimate.

"Put your fucking feet in, just gonna fucking stare at me? What kinda brain you got floating around under all that hair Harrington? How did you even pass the entrance exams?" Billy grabbed Steve's feet and personally lifted and shoved them into the foot well until Steve was properly seated in his passenger seat.

Billy slammed the door and rage-stalked around to the driver's side.

He fell into his seat, closed his door much more gently than he'd closed Steve's- almost in apology for losing his temper and treating the Camaro roughly a moment ago. Steve snorted in disbelief.

“You’re enhanced.” Billy growled, not looking at Steve, staring straight ahead through the windshield, the leather of his steering wheel grinding under his white knuckles.

“What? No! I’m not-” Steve sputtered indignantly.

“Wasn’t a question, bub.” Billy finally turned to give him an appraising stare, hands loosening up, and shoulders- tight with tension, but dropping almost imperceptibly.

“I, well- I, uh-” Steve swallowed thickly under the intensity of Billy’s blue eyes. “Okay. You know what? What is your deal?” Steve narrowed his eyes back at Billy, anger surfacing at being manhandled and shoved around by this gruff, grunting bully of a man who hadn’t let Steve have a day of peace since he showed up at Midtown High in the middle of the first semester that year. “Why does it matter to you?! I’ve been minding my own business all year and you’ve been giving me shit every day-”

“I’d know that voice anywhere! What are you doing here, Spidey?” a familiar voice exclaimed as Eddie fucking Munson, in full Deadpool gear, sat up in the backseat, hanging over the bench seat between Billy and Steve- startling Steve so bad he accidentally threw his hand against the dash in front of him with too much strength, holding back at the very last second so he didn't destroy the car completely. There was an audible crack as a fissure opened up under Steve’s palm.

Deadpool never made his Spider-sense go off, so he regularly snuck up on Spider-man when he was out on patrol. Eddie took great joy in watching the other man flip away with the speed and grace of a cat dropped into a bathtub.

But this time- Eddie knew he’d fucked up.

Billy whipped his right arm up, punched Eddie straight in the nose with the back of his closed fist, causing Eddie to fly into the back seat, disappearing from sight. Eddie groaned, but then cracked his neck and smiled through the crunch of his broken nose resetting itself, “I deserved that one. Sorry about your Baby, Billy-Boy. That’s my bad, Spidey can get pretty wound up, I didn’t think about what that would look like in an enclosed-”

“Eddie.” Billy ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose and grinding his teeth.

“Right, shutting up.” Eddie mimed zipping his mouth closed over his mask, a disgusting wet spot growing where his nose had gushed blood over his lips.

Steve, pressed as far back into the passenger door as he could to give himself some room to think, contemplated whether he should open the door and try to make a break for it, or dig in his bag and pull out his Spider mask, unsure if Eddie had already gotten a good look at his face. 

Steve had only encountered Eddie out as Spider-man. He'd never revealed his secret identity to him even though Deadpool never had any qualms over such things, having given him a business card the first time they’d met that said, “Eddie W. Munson - Deadpool - Merc with a Mouth” with a little doodle of a chibi Spider-man and Deadpool in a heart on the back of it. He told Steve to give him a shout if he ever needed a hand out there, offering a literal severed hand with a manic laugh. 

No matter how off-putting Steve had found him at first, over time- and a few unfortunate run-ins that had turned into reluctant team-ups- that evolved into friendly post patrol meet-ups for burritos on rooftops- Spider-man had started to trust Deadpool. And not once had Eddie tried to push him for a name or to see his face when his mask had sometimes become compromised during a more intense conflict.

Now, the choice was taken out of Steve’s hands. And now Billy knew- had possibly already known that he was Spider-man? What was Deadpool doing in Billy's car anyway?!

Eddie was leaning over the seat again, head swiveling between Billy and Steve, before he let out a quiet, unconvincing, “Oh, you’re not Spider-man,” and sat back with a strange, unnatural stillness. He was sitting on his hands, clenching the undersides of his thighs, and had his lips pinched so hard between his teeth that he thought he might chew them off in his bid to backtrack out of this awkward and tense situation.

“So. Steve.” Billy exhaled through his nose, grunting as he forcefully released some of the tension from his shoulders, though it all just seemed to drain into his flexing biceps and forearms, a twitching vein leading down to his tightly clenched fists resting on his thighs. “We’ve been watching you, testing your potential…” Billy finally looked into Steve’s eyes, his expression softening minutely as he noticed Steve’s fight or flight response was barely being held in check by his obviously intense self control.

“Hold on, testing my potential?!” Steve rolled his eyes, “Is that what you call all that harassment I’ve been dealing with after school every day before you’d let me leave?” Steve asked indignantly, his nostrils flaring.

“Had to see how you handled yourself in public in a high stress situation. How you handled your powers. Today is the first time that you pushed back with what could even be considered normal human strength. So, I’d say you passed.” Billy scoffed, smirking infuriatingly at Steve. “And don’t pretend you couldn’t have walked away at any point during any of our… interactions. You seemed to enjoy our little play fights.” Billy winked at Steve, giving him a lascivious grin. Steve flushed but looked instead at Eddie in the back, starting to vibrate with his need to break.

“And you’ve been in on this to then, Deadpool? Watching me while I’m on patrol? Under the guise of friendship?” Steve spit out, feeling oddly betrayed, even though this is the first time he had verbally acknowledged any friendship building between them.

Eddie gasped dramatically and ripped off his mask, some crusts of blood flaking off as he sputtered denials at Steve. 

“No! Never! I would never fake a friendship between us, Spidey! You gotta know it was all real to me. If you ever need my services as a fake boyfriend though, I volunteer as tribute.” Eddie babbled, eagerly leaning over the seat and practically whispering ‘tribute’ directly into Steve’s ear.

“Um, I don’t think I need a fake anything, thanks-” Steve swallowed nervously, Eddie not retreating. Steve slowly tried pulling his head away, leaning toward the dash but Eddie just followed, a shit eating grin and a bouncy eyebrow shrug lighting up his gnarly face.

“Heel, Eddie.” Billy ripped open the glove box in front of Steve and grabbed a wrapped burrito, throwing it into the backseat. Eddie, immediately distracted, dove after it, tore away the yellow paper rabidly, and began stuffing his face with the cold, soggy chimichanga.

“How long has this been in there? You’ve been holding out on me?” Eddie groaned appreciatively.

“Shut your trap for a goddamn minute, Pool, the grown-ups are talking.” Billy snapped. Eddie shrugged and finished the first burrito- Billy, not missing a beat, threw another over his shoulder before turning back to a grudgingly amused Steve.

“So, yeah. We’ve been watching you, testing you. Because we-” Billy's right arm had come to rest extended along the top of the seat between them, gestured with a thumb between himself and Eddie, then reached out his hand the last few inches and clasped Steve on the shoulder, “want you…” Billy smoldered.

Steve flushed and barely managed to stop from squirming under Billy’s burning hand.

“T-to,” Steve swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat, unable to tear his eyes away from Billy’s heated gaze, “-join your team?” Steve tried to clarify.

“Sure, we can call it that.” Billy wore a knowing smirk as he watched the flush climb up Steve’s neck and face.

“Like, The Avengers, but gayer.” Eddie inserted himself again, throwing his crumpled burrito wrappers at the back of Billy’s head, earning a deep growl from him that had not just Eddie squirming in appreciation of that bass rumble.

“No! Not like those assholes.” Billy growled, his arms coming down beside him as three shiny metal claws sprung out between his knuckles with a snick. He caught Eddie’s eyes through the rear-view and gave him a warning look.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie patted his shoulders, placating- quickly transitioning into a deep squeeze, massaging the rock hard muscles under his hands, “no need to get your panties in a twist just because they’ve rejected all of our applications to join ‘The Team’.” Eddie snickered.

“Actually, Mr. Stark asked me to be an Avenger last year, but I told him I… wasn’t… ready… ” Steve trailed off at the incredulous, wide eyed expressions on Billy and Eddie’s faces. “But, uh, this- this sounds, uh- doable. I mean, uh- shit! I- I am definitely interested- ” Steve stuttered embarrassingly.

“Good.” Billy stopped Steve's rambling mess and started the engine of his Camaro- barely waiting for the gears to shift into drive before he tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell. 

As the car sped away recklessly through mid-afternoon traffic, Eddie threw his arm around Steve from behind- clamping it over his chest like a living seat belt. His chin came to rest on Steve’s shoulder and he began to lecture- “So in a safe, sane, and consensual relationship, we’re going to need to be honest and open, which begins with negotiating boundaries-”

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Thank you @dynamic-power for inspiring me to write this 👋😅

Please REBLOG, I worked hard on this I would love if more people could see it 😂

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O Hara (Across the Spider Verse)- Oneshot

From the moment he saw you he could already feel the migraine coming.

"Miguel!! What's up my amigo!"

You were wearing an oversized shirt with a spider insignia over your suit as you held your mask in your hand grinning.

"Like the shirt, I got it from earth 56. They really love Polly over there. She's awesome. I got a large one, so you can borrow it if you want." You slipped it off, tossing it on the chair.

Lyla was smiling as Miguel ignored you, sifting through his files.

"So what mission do you have for me today? Another anomaly adventure? Sign me up!!"

"Right now we're just tracking the activity. This isn't an adventure." He sent you that unimpressed stare in which you returned with a smile.

"Why you always gotta be so brooding all the time, can't you be more like Peter B."

"If you like him so much why don't you just marry him."

It was a grumble, followed by what you could only assume was a curse.

"Oh I would, but last time I checked he's already married. I can't even be jealous about it. Have you seen Mayday? She's adorable!!"

"She is very adorable." Lyla agreed.

Miguel sent the holograph an angry glare. In which she glitched away.

The door behind opened and in walked Peter.

"Hey guys sorry I'm late. Mayday and I were playing this really fun game and I-"

"Not interested." Miguel groused.

"Right, right. I forgot you're the killjoy spider man." You laughed and Peter smiled at you as Mayday jumped into your arms.

Peter and Miguel had gotten into a conversation. With every word they exchanged, you took a calculated step back.

"I hope you're not trying to kidnap Mayday again." You froze.

"I mean, is it kidnapping? It isn't, right Mayday?" She smiled, hugging your neck and that was it.

You took off in a sprint.

"HEY! BRING BACK MY KID!!!"

Mayday was giggling the entire way out as Peter chased after you.

Miguel just rubbed the bridge of his nose. He knows he should be used to it by now, but it was still irritating.

Sometimes he wondered why he even tried.

His eyes shifted towards the door and Lyla popped up next to his shoulder.

"If you were nicer to her maybe she would chase after you instead." She teased.

Sometimes he regretted creating such a perceptive AI.

~~

Miguel was used to it.

Your unnaturally bubbly personality. In a way, he supposed he preferred it. Because unlike a lot of the other arachnid heroes here, your abilities weren't gained through an accidental bite.

You were the product of an experiment by a literal mad scientist. You trusted the wrong people. Which he couldn't truly blame you for. Being an orphan didn't exactly provide a long list of people you could rely on.

He didn't understand why he felt protective.

Every hero under his care had a story. None of them did this job without some kind of trauma. Yet, when he saw you, that's not what he saw.

"Boss man!!"

Miguel grunted as he caught you mid air, swinging to the roof of a building nearby. The second he landed, his glare fixed on you. In which you merely returned with a smile.

"Good catch." You complimented. Miguel rolled his eyes.

He placed you on your feet, turning back to the chaos that was unfolding. Peter and Gwen were struggling to stop the newest anomaly and you had just narrowly avoided an attack said assailant fired. Miguel was losing his patience.

"You're doing that thing with your mask again." You comment.

"Stay here and make a barrier with your webs. We're going to draw him in." You saluted.

"Sir yes sir!!"

Miguel groaned.

He just knew it would be a long day.

If anything, he should expect the antics. When you all returned that day after a long aggravating mission, he stretched his arm, ready to secure the anomaly and write up the report. Everyone else had pretty left to tend to their own matters. Peter was a literal child and Gwen and the others had the luxury of being young and naive. They understood how important these trips were, but there was so much that he couldn't share. If nothing but to keep their sanity.

The door behind him opened, and he looked back.

"Hey."

You were holding a paper bag, and Miguel raised a brow.

"I know you're going to be sitting here all night running up reports, so I figured I'd make sure you had something to eat."

You weren't wearing your spidersuit. Just a pair of sweatpants and a sweater. Miguel stepped down from the platform, taking the bag you had outstretched.

"It's from that burger place that you like. Sorry I only got three. They were about to close."

When he opened it, the scent of the sandwich actually made his body relax. He hadn't realized that this was his first meal of the day until his stomach grumbled at the smell.

You grin.

"Seems like I was just in time."

He'd never admit, but he appreciated this. Given your job description, he wasn't that shocked at the little gestures. You had a tendency to take care of people.

"Gracias."

He muttered.

You nod.

"No problem. I'm about to head out. I need to check in on some kids."

"Have you found a secured spot for them yet?"

The sad smile rose on your face as you shook your head.

"Not yet. The county doesn't have the budget, or maybe they just don't care. It's worrying. There's been a lot of gang violence in that area. I'm afraid what's going to happen if they don't find a different house."

It's times like this that he's reminded that he's not the only one shouldering the world.

"I went into social work because I wanted to fix everything. It's proving a little harder than I thought."

He could relate.

"The world is a tough place to fix, doesn't mean we should stop trying."

The statement causes your head to raise, and you smile.

"I guess you're right. You know for a stick in the mud you're really wise."

His expression turned blank.

"Goodbye."

You laugh as he turns away with his burgers in hand.

"Goodnight!"

You basically skipped out of the room, and Miguel gripped the bag, looking over his shoulder.

"She definitely has a crush on you, boss. You got a shot."

He really should make some adjustments to this nosy AI. 

[sha-biest]

I hope this isn’t rude to ask another artist but… I’m new to the Rise fandom, the only fandom I’ve ever actively tried being a part of. I don’t have much art yet so obviously I dont expect anyone to know I exsist, but I was wondering if there’s a secret to getting people to see your art, even in the beginning. Like how long does it take to get a following? or how often do you need to create for people to consider you worth they’re attention? I keep getting discouraged from posting because I feel like it’s all for nothing, even though at the same time I know it doesn’t happen over night. It especially gets to me when I see people with 10k notes on their first post after getting into the fandom yesterday. I just wanna know if there’s something I’m not doing right or if I’m just being impatient and envious

Don't worry, that's not rude at all! The following is my opinion on the subject and might not apply to everybody! First off, for me personally, I already had a following going on instagram/twitter from my previous comic. It's typically easier to get noticed sooner if you draw fanart because series already have a high following and they are simply more likely to see you! Second, often it's luck. Who reblogged/retweeted/shared your art who might already have a following. Are you drawing something that most of the fandom is interested in? For the Rise fandom it looks like they latch onto a lof of post movie media and apocalypse/bad future timeline media for example! Once you grabbed their attention you don't necessarily post daily/frequently to be able to hold it. Obviously, skill also plays a part in this but I'm a strong defender of good content even if the skills arent fully there yet. (they'll come if you persist anyway)

Last of all (and most important in my opinion, as well as the hardest part for most people I'm sure) Why do you make art? I love making art, it's my passion, my whole being and I would never ever stop drawing because of numbers. I have so much art I could instantly share, boost my following, get more numbers, be able to post more frequently etc. BUT it's for me or close friends! It's not for the world wide web to see. Take internet away and ask yourself if you'd still be drawing? What I want to say is that you shouldn't focus so much on the numbers. Of course, it's encouraging to have all these notifications pop up but it's destroying your self esteem! Keep going because you like making art/creating stories, everything else will come with patience eventually!

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter 42: Mitsuhide POV Chapter - Other Half - Catching up with the Kitsune, as Hideyoshi attempts an intervention of sorts.

Mitsuhide x OC; Hideyoshi x MC (Mai)

All Chapters Archived on Ao3 

Logline - With Mai, Hideyoshi, and Aki missing, Mitsuhide and Katsuko reluctantly team up. Disguised as a merchant and his concubine, can they outsmart the man known as the God of Deceit?

As soon as the guard captain ordered their unit to the top of the castle wall, he knew. Something had gone wrong for Katsuko. Although Mitsuhide was certain his encounter with her in the courtyard had remained undetected, he had not been able to watch out for her as she returned to the castle.

Whatever just happened had resulted in Motonari and Iekane having a low-voiced conversation while the rest of them waited at attention, hands on the hilts of their swords, ready to draw them upon command.  

Mitsuhide stayed at the edge of the line, keeping his posture at attention, with his helmet low on his head. It would do her no good if he were to be identified before he could even determine the extent of the problem. So he stood still. Even though every muscle in his body was alert for an opportunity to take control of the situation. Even though his mind was already racing through a number of scenarios – none of which reached a positive conclusion.

In a few moments, another contingent of Kanamori vassals marched Katsuko and Yoshimoto onto the wall. She was still wearing that fur cloak, while Yoshimoto, on the other hand, was dressed in an informal kimono, and as usual, unarmed. Mitsuhide doubted that the man would be much help in this, but perhaps he was counting on the gloss that came from being an Imagawa. Indeed, he was already puffing up into the parody of an annoyed high-caste Prince. "Master Iekane, what is the meaning of this insult?"

"This doesn't concern you, Lord Imagawa." Iekane’s voice was a few degrees short of the groveling that Yoshimoto seemed to expect. Since this man was not yet familiar, Mitsuhide kept his attention on him, hoping to learn as much about Katsuko’s enemy as possible. From what she’d revealed of him, Mitsuhide knew that Iekane was a good liar with the patience of spider; able to spin a web and lie in wait for it to snare an unwary victim. "Motonari has a problem with a member of your household."

"I don't see how. My page has devoted his attention to me since the moment we arrived. Any insult would have come about because he was merely doing my bidding." Thus far, Yoshimoto’s approach was to throw around his status to protect Katsuko.

Unfortunately, what would work against the Kanamori vassals was unlikely to work against Motonari and that man’s distain for the current societal structure (a philosophy that Mitsuhide somewhat sympathized with, though he disagreed with a ‘burn it all down’ solution). Indeed just as expected, Motonari focused his ire on Katsuko, having apparently recognized her from their prior encounters. "Lord Imagawa, yer page is a spy who works for Mitsuhide."

Yoshimoto whipped out his fan and yawned. "Of course she's a spy. But she works for my cousin, not Mitsuhide."

For one very short moment, Mitsuhide wondered if that was in fact true. Was Katsuko one of the mitsumono? Had she always been so? He glanced over at her, and noticed a quickly concealed flash of surprise, that was then followed by a straightening of her posture, as if she was mimicking what she believed a Takeda spy would look like.

It seemed that Imagawa was improvising.

Keep talking. It would give him an opportunity to figure out how to defuse this situation without giving up his mission.

Rescue her first. Hang the mission.

No. Now was not the time for indecision.

Iekane started to speak, but Motonari took control. "Shut up." He turned to Katsuko and asked, "Yer one of the Mitsumono? Why’d ya help Mitsuhide?"

“The best way to gain his trust was to help him. And of course once he pulled us off your ship, I figured the only way I was going to get back to Kasaguyama was to work with him."

Good girl. That sounded plausible.

“By burning down my camp." Motonari’s words came out as a growl, but there was a different kind of light in his eyes.

"Next time tell your men not to store, the gunpowder so close to open flame.” She shrugged. "Hell of a fire though."

For a moment, Mitsuhide worried that she had pushed Motonari too far, but then the man started laughing. ”Hell of a fire."

The guards near Mitsuhide shifted uneasily, apparently not used to this type of volatility. Iekane looked around and seemed to be preparing to try and re-take control, but Katsuko spoke up first. "Lord Iekane knows this, because he and I were both originally trained by the same spymaster." She addressed the rest of the Kanamori guardsmen. "Just a suggestion, but you might want to get a food taster in for Mozumi's meals and drink."

Iekane put his hand to his heart. "Are you accusing me of harming my dear father? The man took me in, saved my life. I'm devoted to his health."

Hmmm. From that response, it was possible that Katsuko had hit a nerve. Mitsuhide continued to study him, watching his face for reactions, looking for any opening that would allow him to subtly help matters. As always, in the back of his head, help Katsuko warred with stop Yoshiaki.

But thus far, Yoshimoto appeared to have a slight edge of control. "Yes, of course you must be. A poor orphan is always grateful to the rich man, especially if he has no other living offspring."

The difficulty of this whole situation was threading the needle in such a way to get both the Kanamori vassals and Motonari on their side. Katsu and Yoshimoto had yet to manage that task, for Motonari simply shrugged away all hints of that accusation. "Heh. This is all very interesting. I don’t care if Iekane is offing his Pap, it all ends up the same in the end. Imagawa ya in for destroying Nobunaga and getting this party started or not?"

"The desire of my vassals is clear." Yoshimoto snapped his fan shut. "That said, I do not agree that Sakai is a worthwhile target." Did that translate into ‘not interested in wanting to stop Yoshiaki’? Or could Mitsuhide count on Yoshimoto’s aid?

"Iekane when you caused the cart accident, was your target me... or was it Hiko?" Katsuko sent her former friend a lethal looking glare.

Iekane caused that accident? Why hadn’t she told him that? As far as Mitsuhide knew, Iekane had not been to Sakai. Or was this something she’d only recently discovered and not had time to share with him?

"Accident?" Iekane laughed, and turned to look at the guardsmen, sending them a ‘do you believe this nonsense?’ look. "Kaya, you've always been clumsy. And little boys, well, they can get into so much mischief."

Interesting. It seemed that Katsuko had just led Iekane into a trap.

"Lord Motonari… Has Iekane ever met Hiko?" Her posture was triumphant as she snapped that trap closed. Mitsuhide felt a quick shot of pride in her interrogation skills.

Motonari frowned. "No. He ain’t been to Sakai. Do you have a point, spy? Or are ya wasting time waiting for reinforcements?"

"How does Iekane know Hiko is a little boy?" She took a deep breath, and spoke faster. "Hiko is in danger, from Iekane. Before my former master disappeared, he sent me a letter, asking me to find Hiko and protect him from Iekane."

Akihira’s letter… if only he’d let her have it back earlier… could this have been prevented? What did Hiko have to do with Iekane and Akihira?

"Why, why would I care about some street kid?" Mitsuhide was looking at Katsuko’s face when Iekane asked, and he caught her hesitation. She doesn’t know.

"Because," Yoshimoto must have noticed her panic as well, and began spinning a tale. "Hiko is actually Mozumi's son. His blood son. Hiko's mother was one of Mozumi's concubines. But Mozumi's second wife Osumi was jealous of Niwa, and arranged for an attempt on her life. Frightened for her safety and realizing she was carrying a baby, Niwa decided to fake her death, at least until the child was born. Unfortunately, during childbirth, poor Niwa’s death became a reality. This was when her sister decided to raise Hiko as her own. She already had a daughter, Sho, and the children were devoted to each other."

It was a wild tale, full of the Imagawa’s flair for the dramatic. Mitsuhide noted it was partially striking sympathy from the Kanamori guards and vassals, and was gaining a little ground on Motonari as well.

"And that is why Iekane plans to attack Sakai. It would be easy enough to kill one small boy in the confusion and make it look like an accident of war." Katsuko seemed more confident in this answer, an answer that Mitsuhide internally agreed might be effective on Motonari, whom he knew was not convinced that Sakai was an appropriate target for the shogun’s forces.

"That's ridiculous." Iekane addressed Motonari, "Lord Imagawa has spent so much time on the arts that it’s rotted his brain. No true warrior would believe such a fanciful tale."

But the Kanamori were on the edge of believing it, and Mitsuhide added in his part to tilt the balance in Katsuko’s direction. “Mozumi did have a concubine by name of Niwa.”

Iekane looked hesitantly over his shoulder but Mitsuhide was already hiding his face. He placed his hand in front of his mouth and directed his voice so that it appeared to be coming from the vassals. A stage trick, but a useful one. “Lady Osumi was the jealous type.”

“Are you really believing this nonsense?” Iekane’s voice was shaking. A cornered beast is a dangerous one. As he spoke, fumbled for something he had in his kimono. Something that made Katsuko turn pale, her fear visible even in this deepening night. Was he armed with one of those Nanban pistols?

It was only a split second of hesitation while he tried to calculate whether he could stop Iekane from shooting without jeopardizing his own mission. Failure in either could spell disaster for not only Katsuko but also Nobunaga. How could he weigh one against the other?

How could he weigh his head against his heart?

Before he could determine the best course of action, Katsuko gave him one last look, then before he could stop her, she jumped on Iekane. Mitsuhide leaped after, this time knowing he could use the excuse of protecting the Kanamori to grab her, but for some reason, Iekane pulled her close, and let the motion carry both over the side of the castle.

Mitsuhide put on a burst of speed and lunged for her, his hands only reaching empty air.

It wasn’t that far to the ground, a ground covered in soft snow… a fall from that distance would have been survivable. Even so, Mitsuhide would have forgiven if he had shut his eyes to the sight of her body hitting the earth.

But he didn’t.

Which was how he was able to witness Katsuko and Iekane vanishing into a shimmer of thin air.

“What happened to… ah…” Yoshimoto trailed off, but Mitsuhide caught his tone of voice. It was the voice of someone who had made a realization. Yoshimoto looked at him, and his eyes widened. Hm, it seemed that he had not been informed of Mitsuhide’s presence here.

“You know something.” It was only his disguise that stopped him from grabbing Yoshimoto by the neck and dangling him over the edge.

“I promise to explain… later. If you will back me up now.” Without giving Mitsuhide a chance to respond, Yoshimoto whipped around and addressed the vassals. “Witchcraft! The Kanamori imposter has escaped into the spirit realm and stolen my personal guard in the process.”

“Master Iekane was Yokai! Before they vanished, he revealed his true form is that of a Tengu.” Mitsuhide turned to the Kanamori guards. “We have been misled by a demon.”

“Yer not a Kana-“ Motonari scowled in his direction, then apparently decided he had had enough of the Kanamori and Yoshiaki in general. “Never should have trusted that the shogun had the brains to pull this off.” He made a mocking bow toward Mitsuhide. “Until later.”

Then he stalked away.

Mitsuhide debated stopping him, but Goro was still outside the castle, and was smart enough to follow Motonari back to his lair, back to where Kennyo was holed up as well. At the moment, Yoshiaki was still the more dangerous of the two, and stopping the shogun was his primary mission.

And at least in this, he could keep an eye on Yoshimoto, ready to question him about Katsuko’s mysterious disappearance.

It was well into mid-morning before Yoshimoto and Mitsuhide were able to have their promised talk. With a bit of prompting from Mitsuhide, Mozumi had tottered up from his sickbed, and in no uncertain terms, told his vassals he was honoring an alliance with Nobunaga. Generally disgusted by the attitude of both the shogun and the too-proud Imagawa vassals, the Kanamori vassals and guards evicted their former allies.

Yoshimoto seemed to have exhausted his supply of diplomacy and was unable to convince his vassals to return to Kasugayama. Therefore, when Mitsuhide had finally followed the man back to his quarters, it was to watch him pack his things in order to journey with Yoshiaki. This was a journey that the Imagawa Prince was clearly dreading. “However, if I am with the shogun, I may be able to distract him from his plans, at least until he meets with an unfortunate accident.”

Mitsuhide raised his eyebrow but did not comment. In truth, whatever Yoshimoto was going to have to do to “distract” the shogun sounded even less pleasant than any plans to assassinate him.

“Yoshiaki is not good for this country.” Yoshimoto’s voice was quiet but full of conviction. “I am uncertain if Nobunaga is the answer, and certainly my cousin does not believe so. But Yoshiaki’s use of my vassals is a mess of my making, and I see now that I must do what I can to unsnarl it. In any case, even with what is left of the Imagawa clan, the shogun does not currently have the resources to make trouble.”

Though this was indisputable Mitsuhide resolved to keep an eye on the situation, well aware that even with a small force, the shogun was capable of plotting revenge. But he had a more urgent question to be answered. “Do you know where Katsuko is?”

“I expect she has returned to her original time.” Yoshimoto rummaged in the shelf and pulled out a familiar pack. Katsuko’s. “She is from the future. About four hundred and fifty years forward in time. And… if you think such a thing is impossible, I suggest you discuss the matter with Mai.” He plopped the pack in Mitsuhide’s hands.

He hadn’t realized he was even reaching for it.

It sounded less plausible than Yoshimoto’s tale of Hiko’s origins. If Mitushide hadn’t seen Katsuko and Iekane disappear between the castle walls and the ground, he would have accused Yoshimoto of telling more folk tales. But the explanation of time-travelling explained so much, not just about Katsuko, but also Mai. “She told you of this?”

Yet another bit of Katsuko that Yoshimoto knew and Mitsuhide did not. It… hurt that she had never confided this in him.

“She did not originally, though we have discussed it. I have been aware of the existence of time travel for several years, and Kenshin’s ninja is from the future as well.” Yoshimoto kept his focus on packing up his own belongings. Even though the man took care to neatly fold his clothing, his hands were shaking. “If I must spend the next few months with Yoshiaki, I will be unable to give Katsuko her things, not to mention her horse… if she returns. I am given to understand that she comes from a time of peace. Perhaps she has had enough of these troubled times and the people in it.”

Perhaps. Perhaps she is safer where she is now….

"I'm not going to Azuchi. There’s no place for me."

"You undervalue yourself. If we don’t find Akihira, you have plenty of skills to make yourself valuable at Azuchi. Your language facility alone would be enough for Nobunaga to employ you as a translator."

“I know. Actually he offered me a job the first time I met him. But that wasn't what I meant." She had then put her hand on his heart. "There's no room for me here."

Mitsuhide rubbed his chest, as if he could still feel that touch of her hand as she reached for something he had no business giving away. Something he was no longer certain he had.

 “Shall I unpack this?” Kyubei’s voice was full of impatience.

Mitsuhide looked up from the pile of reports on his desk, to find his vassal uncharacteristically out of sorts. He was holding the pack of Katsu’s things that Mitsuhide had brought back from Genba. Though he had turned the horse over to Ieyasu, who appeared to get along very well with the temperamental beast, Mitsuhide had kept control over the rest. Control… but he had yet to look through them. (He had of course, taken the time to decode his handmade copy of Akihira’s letter – however it did not contain anything beyond what he had already learned from Yoshimoto).

Her personal items… though it was unlikely she would ever return for them, it now seemed… impolite… to search them. However, to refuse Kyubei’s request would only make the man overly suspicious. “Dear me, I had forgotten I had that. Yes, of course.”

He bent his head over the correspondence. As expected, Goro had managed to track Motonari to the Chugoku region, which was still home to the Mouri clan. Unfortunately, he had not yet located where Motonari had stashed Kennyo, as it seemed they were indeed lying low until Spring. Meanwhile the Imagawa and Yoshimoto had not even bothered to keep their escort of Yoshiaki secret, and had blazed an easy to follow trail to the port city of Tsuruga. Thus far, the Shogun was simply throwing his weight around the city without managing to increase his meager forces. And…

A flash of turquoise silk caught his attention. The yukata he had had made for Katsuko. It seemed that she had kept it. Or at least tried to before she’d been pulled back to her original time. He watched Kyubei shake out the wrinkles, and then a scroll of paper fell out of the garment.

It rolled within Mitsuhide’s reach. Without thinking, he opened it, and was surprised to see a drawing of a young man. What was she doing with this? The drawing was old… creased… the paper thinning as if she had taken it out and looked at it many many times. The subject … was a familiar face.

“Katsu’s brother.” Kyubei answered a question he had not asked. “She has been searching for him for as long as I have known her. Apparently they were attacked by bandits and he was carried away, possibly sold to the Nanban.”

No he was not. Katsu’s brother was currently living in Sakai, working as a healer. Toshiie.

“Will you return to check on her?”

The man backed further away from the bed, glancing down at his stained clothing. “No… I can’t. Not like this.”  With that, he fled from the room.

Only after it was clear the healer had left the building did Shojumaru speak into the silence. “Toshiie is a strange one, but he’s saved many considered too injured to survive.”

If only he had thought to ask her brother’s name when she mentioned he’d disappeared. Or asked even one question about him. Of course she would have devoted her life to finding him… and of course she transferred that obsession to Aki when he disappeared as well. Having already lost her home, her mother, and her brother, she would be fixed upon finding the one person left to her.

The one person who could be left for her.

“Kyubei.”

“I am standing right in front of you, Lord Mitshide.” It was said with touch of dry humor.

“So you are.” He tapped the drawing. “This man is living in Sakai as a healer. He should be easy for you to find.”

Kyubei nodded. “And bring him to Azuchi?”

He considered for a moment. It had been clear that Toshiie had not wanted to be recognized by Katsu, had not wanted her to see him. “Not yet. Not unless he seems to be preparing to leave the city. Simply… watch the man, and report on his well-being.” If Toshiie needed help, Mitsuhide would provide it. If he wanted to return to the future to be with his sister, Mitsuhide would figure out how to make it happen. She deserved that much, at least.

“I will do so.” He laid Katsu’s belongings on Mitsuhide’s desk, bowed, and took himself out of the room.

Never happy with a task half-done, Mitsuhide finished unpacking her things, and finding a place for them amongst his own. Though he deemed her return unlikely, there was at least some comfort in placing her small shogi set on the shelf, putting her clothing next to his in the closet, and setting aside a place on his desk for her brush and ink. At the bottom of her pack, he found another letter, this one from the ninja Sasuke, though it simply named two places, Honno-jo and Togakushi, each followed by a series of dates. He suspected that this might be an item more easily decoded by Mai, so he set it aside.

Then, he returned to his report, making plans for his next journey, whether it be to Chugoku to root out Kennyo, or to Tsuruga to help bring about Yoshiaki’s “unfortunate accident.” Wherever his lord needed him to go.

He had work to do. Work that no one else could accomplish.

That no one else should be asked to accomplish.

It was to be Tsuruga, it seemed. A secret trip, so secret that Nobunaga would not even be aware of it until after Mitsuhide had left.

Instead of outright telling Mitsuhide to go to Chugoku, Nobunaga had surprisingly assigned that task to Keiji, who… Mitsuhide supposed was capable enough to avoid getting kidnapped by Motonari, but didn’t quite seem terribly skilled in… as Katsu would describe it, ‘the art of being invisible in plain sight.’ Nor had his lord believed that sending Mitsuhide to Tsuruga was necessary. “To make any move upon Yoshiaki while the man is not actively rebelling would be considered an insult to Emperor Ōgimachi. In your own words, the shogun is not keeping his activities in Tsuruga a secret. A few spies placed in the city will be sufficient for the winter months. We will lay a trap for him in spring, should he attempt another attack.”

With the rest of Nobunaga’s council as witness, Mitsuhide could do nothing but publically agree to Nobunaga’s plan. In private… well, Nobunaga hadn’t specifically said that Mitsuhide couldn’t be one of those spies.

And so, it was under the cover of darkness that Mitsuhide stepped out of the entry of his manor.

Whoosh.

Clang.

The telltale sound of a sword whistling through the air gave him enough warning to meet that sword with his own, easily diverting the strike… although his attacker hadn’t been aiming to kill. “My dear Hideyoshi, if you wished to pay me a visit, you had only to knock upon the door.”

Hideyoshi gestured to the door in question with his weapon. “After you.”

“As you can see my friend, I am on my way out. Perhaps tomorrow.” Or in a few weeks, when I have returned. When Hideyoshi lifted his sword again, Mitsuhide sighed. “I’d prefer not to take arms against you.” He could, if he put his mind to it, best Hideyoshi in battle, but that would defeat the purpose of leaving Azuchi undetected. More than likely they’d just send Masamune after him. Another who could not master the art of invisibility.

“I insist.” Hideyoshi normal manner of speaking was one of gentle bossiness, however in certain instances, he could become as immobile as a statue. This, clearly, was one of those instances.

Stubborn ass.

Bowing to the inevitable, Mitsuhide went back inside, into his office, with Hideyoshi close at his heels, so close that if he stopped suddenly, he was certain that the man would slam into him. “Do you not trust me? I am wounded to the core.”

“Of course I don’t trust you. Not in this at least.” Hideyoshi waited until Mitsuhide was seated before settling down between the desk and the door. “I would trust you with my life. I would not trust you with your own.”

“Perhaps I was simply on my way out for a late night stroll.” He brought out a bottle of sake, and two cups. He would not need to fight his way out… he could simply drink his way out, as Hideyoshi had a lower tolerance for alcohol.

“You were not. You plan to set yourself up as a traitor, offer aid to Yoshiaki, while the rest of us wonder how much is an act.” Hideyoshi took the offered sake cup, but set it in front of him untouched. “Much as you did this summer, when you pretended to support Kennyo. Such an act won’t work a second time.”

“On the contrary, most still believe I am a traitor, and those who don’t would not expect me to repeat myself.” He drank his own portion of sake, hoping that Hideyoshi would join automatically out of politeness. When Hideyoshi simply continued to look at him, Mitsuhide poured himself another. It seemed he would not be leaving tonight after all. “You and Mai are exceptions, not the rule.”

For the first time in months, speaking Mai’s name did not cause that internal twist of pain. Apparently what was needed to get past that was to inflect a far deeper wound upon himself.

“You are not required to take on the burdens of all of the unsavory tasks.” If Hideyoshi settled back on his heels, looking as if he intended to spend the night if necessary. This was confirmed when the man gestured to Katsu’s shogi set. “Up for a game?”

“I didn’t realize you played. No… not that one.” Mitsuhide pulled his larger shogi table out from the corner, and withdrew the tiles from the drawer hidden inside.

“I know how to play, but as you are aware, Nobunaga prefers Go. There’s not been any time to play for my own entertainment.” Hideyoshi began setting up the tiles in the wrong order, immediately disproving the ‘know how to play,’ claim. “What is wrong with the other set?”

“Nothing is wrong. It simply does not belong to me.” He considered resetting the tiles in the correct order – or at the very least, flipping the ones that were wrong side up over - before deciding that it might be an interesting experiment to start from this unusual pattern. He therefore set out his own pieces mirroring Hideyoshi’s.

“How did it come to be in your possession?” Again ignoring the conventions of the game, Hideyoshi moved his tile first.

“Katsu… er, Kaya, was not able to take it with her when …” Mitsuhide paused, then figured that Katusko’s origins would not be a surprise to Hideyoshi. “… when she returned to her own time.”

“Did you simply let her go, or did you drive her away?” Hideyoshi moved his rook in a direction that the piece was not legally able to make.

“Are you certain you know the rules of this game?” When Hideyoshi simply answered the question with an ashamed smile, Mitsuhide gave up and began building a fortress with his tiles. “In this particular case, her return was somewhat of an accident of fate.” Or something involved with Iekane’s strange device.

Hideyoshi reached out a finger and knocked over Mitsuhide’s fort. “Was it? And the circumstances that led to this accident? Also fate? Granted, my information is third hand, as I am only aware of what Kyubei told Mai.”

“Kyubei is too loyal to gossip.” He thought a moment. “Mai charmed the information out of him.”

“While I’m certain she could do just that, in this case, your vassal is worried about you. You have jumped from one dangerous escapade to another without stopping to rest.” Hideyoshi nodded at the pack that Mitsuhide had brought back inside. “That seems rather a large bag if you were simply going for a midnight stroll.”

“Oh my, you do have a rather liberal definition of escapades. I prefer the word missions, and they are vital to the health of Nobunaga’s cause.” Although as honest as Hideyoshi was, maybe he would never understand the necessity of having one person willing to crawl through the muck for the good of the whole.

“Must it be you? Must it be now?” The question was posed philosophically. There was no anger in Hideyoshi’s tone. He began picking up the tiles and rearranging them again, this time in the correct formation on the board.

“It absolutely cannot be you. Not only it is essential that there be one person on the Devil King’s side with an unblemished reputation… you could not do that to Mai.” Hadn’t the entire experience with Motonari convinced Hideyoshi of that?

“Ah.”

“’Ah?’” Mitsuhide put his hands in his lap in an attitude of peaceful silence. After a long moment, he said, “You must be aware that I am well versed in the art of interrogation. Dropping a one syllable ah and waiting only works if you target feels he has something he must say. Therefore. Ah?”

“You believed, perhaps still believe, that you are in love with Mai.” Hideyoshi professionally tossed five pawns in the air, and counted the results. “I win first move.”

“Setting aside the issue of the truth of that statement, you can’t possibly think I would attempt to take her from you. I’ve known from the start that you and Mai are two halves of one.” He watched as Hideyoshi play an advanced opening. Apparently during the first ‘game’ Hideyoshi had been teasing him. Interesting. He hadn’t thought the man had it in him.

“Yes, we are.” Hideyoshi smiled. “I suspect, however, that you also believe that we,” he gestured to himself then to Mitsuhide, “are also two halves of one. I am the light half and you are the dark half.”

“Interesting theory.” Mitsuhide studied the game board, and realized that he would have to work to win this match.

“There’s more.”

“Oh do enlighten me.”

“I suspect that you were less in love with Mai, than with the idea of sacrificing a chance of happiness, as penance for the things you believe you must do.” Without even a shred of reluctance, Hideyoshi advanced the knight. Demon killer opening.

It was also, one of Mitsuhide’s favorite openings. He knew how to counteract it. He moved a pawn to protect the bishop.

Hideyoshi wasn’t finished with lecture. “Do you think that because I’m the right hand and you’re the left, that if I am happy, you must be miserable? You are permitted happiness, my friend… you only need to reach for it.”

“My happiness, as it were, is about four hundred and fifty years in the future. That is a bit of a reach.” Instead, he reached for his sake cup, and finding it empty, refilled it. “Even if there weren’t some rather pressing issues to take care of here. Kennyo. Motonari. Yoshiaki. Not to mention Kenshin and Shingen.” Although from what Yoshimoto had said, it appeared that Shingen had also travelled to the future. He and Katsuko might even be in the same place.

And… that was something he didn’t want to contemplate.

“Mitsunari has analyzed the situation and does not believe any of them will make a move until Spring. That gives us five months to plan. That also gives you some time to determine how to make amends to your Kaya. Time that will be available to you if you give up on these suicide missions.” Hideyoshi’s silver general ruthlessly tore a hole in Mitsuhide’s line of pawns.

“She is … not mine.” Even discounting the rest of Hideyoshi’s words, discounting the issue of time travel, or the necessity of the missions at hand, even if he could believe that the Gods would permit one such as himself to have a love… “My life is dangerous, and she would never be safe.”

“No one is safe anywhere, and would you not rather keep her at your side, than wonder what sort of danger she has gotten herself is into alone?” Perhaps thinking he had gotten the final word, Hideyoshi was silent for a while, as they moved from the opening of the game, until… “Check.”

Mitsuhide blinked as he searched the board for options. How had this happened? He never lost.

“I cheated when your back was turned to get more sake,” Hideyoshi said, unprompted. “No one is purely good or purely evil.”

Message received.

Be honest. Can you live without her?

No. He could not.

For that matter, he supposed he was curious to see if Hideyoshi could handle it if Katsuko went full on chaos goblin in Azuchi. It would serve him right if she did.

Mitsuhide picked up the piece of paper with the mysterious numbers and dates. “I suppose I should ask Mai what she knows about time travel.”

“Oh Good!” Without warning, Mai suddenly bounded into the room. At Mitsuhide’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Kyubei let me in after you guys. I was the back-up plan if Hideyoshi couldn’t change your mind.”

She plopped down in Hideyoshi’s lap. “Now… let me tell you about a modern concept we call the Grand Romantic Gesture. It’s got to be big, not just flowers, but something meaningful. Oh, and when you get settled we need to go on a double date…”

Hideyoshi met Mitsuhide’s gaze. “I believe I will have another drink now.”

@lorei-writes @selenacosmic @bestbryn @lyds323 @tele86 @akitsuneswife

[fellowship-of-sleep-reads]

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[travelingtwentysomething]

A Sticky Situation - Hailey (click here to read on ao3)

💀🕸️🐺💀🕸️🐺💀🕸️🐺💀🕸️🐺💀🕸️🐺💀

Steve Harrington walked across the parking lot toward home after a long day at Midtown High. He was staring at his feet, feeling a bit dejected because Mr. Stark wasn't around for the next few weeks, so he couldn't get in as much lab time as he wanted. And he was starting to run low on Web Fluid.

He could try and make some in the Bio-Chem lab after school, but ever since they'd worked out his new formula, Mr. Stark had been allowing Steve to make the fluid in his lab, providing the chemicals and equipment necessary to make it in higher quantities. It just wasn't coming out the same in the school lab and he ran the risk of getting caught stealing resources when he actually made the amounts he needed to keep him supplied for even a few hours of patrolling.

Steve stopped mid step when a cigarette butt flung into his field of view, bouncing off his shoe and scattering embers into the wind.

He looked up, startled to find Billy Hargrove striding up to him- a fiery expression lighting up his handsome face, blue eyes glaring furiously, his swagger hypnotic as he charged like a predator stalking his prey. His anger made his physique particularly striking as he tensed and flexed his arms, his powerful stride making each stomp of his doc martins thud heavily against the concrete. His blond curls were wildly disheveled on top of his head, but hanging in ringlets down the back of his neck from drying salty with sweat after Athletics class. Steve tried not to stare, but he knew Billy did it on purpose. He liked the attention.

Clearly.

Or he wouldn't find a reason to be so pissed off at Steve that he confronted him every day after school before Steve could quietly disappear onto the streets of Queens for his patrols.

"What is it this time, Billy? Failing remedial English again- need a tutor?" Steve snapped, rolling his eyes. He did not have the patience for this today. He wanted to go to Stark Tower and beg Happy to let him try and see if Friday would let him have access to Mr. Stark's lab, or at least one of the R&D labs, so he could get back to patrolling. As it stood, he would barely make it downtown before running out of webs if he wasn't careful.

"Oh, he bites, watch out!" Billy snickered, aggressively wrapping his thick arm around Steve's shoulders, tightening it around the back of his neck until Steve had to bend over into Billy's space or risk falling into him. Steve could smell Billy's musky armpit, see the hair brushing the tight edge of his white tank- Steve was too close to Billy.

"Let go, you animal, I don't have time for your shit today." Steve used a fraction more strength than he ever had with Billy, thinking it would be enough to break the bully's near headlock on him without hurting him.

Steve froze when nothing happened- Billy let out a riotous laugh and squeezed harder.

"Plant your feet Harrington, might actually be able to get some leverage this time." Billy yanked harder on Steve's neck, causing him to stumble over his feet. Billy had been right- he didn't have them planted. Now, he had landed face first against Billy's cleavage.

Steve groaned, embarrassed beyond belief, fully aware that their little scuffle was drawing some attention from the few kids who were still hanging around the parking lot an hour after school had officially let out. He could hear them whispering about a fight, getting excited at the prospect of witnessing some student-on-student violence.

One kid shut that down with a snort and a, "Nah, it's just Harringrove's After-School Homo-erotica Hour: Daddy Punishes His Good Boy, Part 69."

Both Billy and Steve's heads lifted and swiveled to make direct eye contact with the boy who was watching them from across the lot. Steve recognized him from his art class. The guy was always talking to MJ "No one calls me Robin, Steve, that's my government name" Buckley about lgbtq activism.

"Oh shit, they did not just hear that?" The boy went white as a ghost as he looked around to see if maybe they were looking at something else around him- sure that they couldn't have heard that whispered joke to his boyfriend while they were next to the busy basketball court on the opposite side of the lot. The guy hurriedly grabbed his boyfriend's hand and marched toward the subway as if nothing happened, both laughing to cover their mild terror as they retreated.

Billy immediately let go of Steve and turned him around, shoving him towards his Camaro.

When Billy kept shoving, none too gently, Steve gave up on resisting and let him corral him until he had him pressed up against the passenger side of his car. Billy's tense shoulder and neck muscles displayed a message Steve was sure he could read even if he was blind- there would be no escape.

"Get in." Billy opened the door next to Steve.

"What?!" Steve sputtered. Billy had never invited him into his car before. Though this felt more like a demand- a kidnapping, if you will.

"Just fucking- Get. In." Billy grabbed Steve by the shoulder and shoved him down into the passenger seat. Steve sat numbly, staring up through his lashes at Billy leaning over the open door, boxing Steve in and making him feel... Well, Steve thought he should have felt trapped- Spidey-sense should have been ringing alarm bells, but it was conspicuously absent right now. Steve kind of felt- almost cozy in the small space that was created by Billy hovering over him, closing him in and blocking the view of anyone's prying eyes- making this interaction suddenly feel more private.

Intimate.

"Put your fucking feet in, just gonna fucking stare at me? What kinda brain you got floating around under all that hair Harrington? How did you even pass the entrance exams?" Billy grabbed Steve's feet and personally lifted and shoved them into the foot well until Steve was properly seated in his passenger seat.

Billy slammed the door and rage-stalked around to the driver's side.

He fell into his seat, closed his door much more gently than he'd closed Steve's- almost in apology for losing his temper and treating the Camaro roughly a moment ago. Steve snorted in disbelief.

“You’re enhanced.” Billy growled, not looking at Steve, staring straight ahead through the windshield, the leather of his steering wheel grinding under his white knuckles.

“What? No! I’m not-” Steve sputtered indignantly.

“Wasn’t a question, bub.” Billy finally turned to give him an appraising stare, hands loosening up, and shoulders- tight with tension, but dropping almost imperceptibly.

“I, well- I, uh-” Steve swallowed thickly under the intensity of Billy’s blue eyes. “Okay. You know what? What is your deal?” Steve narrowed his eyes back at Billy, anger surfacing at being manhandled and shoved around by this gruff, grunting bully of a man who hadn’t let Steve have a day of peace since he showed up at Midtown High in the middle of the first semester that year. “Why does it matter to you?! I’ve been minding my own business all year and you’ve been giving me shit every day-”

“I’d know that voice anywhere! What are you doing here, Spidey?” a familiar voice exclaimed as Eddie fucking Munson, in full Deadpool gear, sat up in the backseat, hanging over the bench seat between Billy and Steve- startling Steve so bad he accidentally threw his hand against the dash in front of him with too much strength, holding back at the very last second so he didn't destroy the car completely. There was an audible crack as a fissure opened up under Steve’s palm.

Deadpool never made his Spider-sense go off, so he regularly snuck up on Spider-man when he was out on patrol. Eddie took great joy in watching the other man flip away with the speed and grace of a cat dropped into a bathtub.

But this time- Eddie knew, he’d fucked up.

Billy whipped his right arm up, punched Eddie straight in the nose with the back of his closed fist, causing Eddie to fly into the back seat, disappearing from sight. Eddie groaned, but then cracked his neck and smiled through the crunch of his broken nose resetting itself, “I deserved that one. Sorry about your Baby, Billy-Boy. That’s my bad, Spidey can get pretty wound up, I didn’t think about what that would look like in an enclosed-”

“Eddie.” Billy ground out, pinching the bridge of his nose and grinding his teeth.

“Right, shutting up.” Eddie mimed zipping his mouth closed over his mask, a disgusting wet spot growing where his nose had gushed blood over his lips.

Steve, pressed as far back into the passenger door as he could to give himself some room to think, contemplated whether he should open the door and try to make a break for it, or dig in his bag and pull out his Spider mask, unsure if Eddie had already gotten a good look at his face. 

Steve had only encountered Eddie out as Spider-man. He'd never revealed his secret identity to him even though Deadpool never had any qualms over such things, having given him a business card the first time they’d met that said, “Eddie W. Munson - Deadpool - Merc with a Mouth” with a little doodle of a chibi Spider-man and Deadpool in a heart on the back of it. He told Steve to give him a shout if he ever needed a hand out there, offering a literal severed hand with a manic laugh. 

No matter how off-putting Steve had found him at first, over time- and a few unfortunate run-ins that had turned into reluctant team-ups- that evolved into friendly post patrol meet-ups for burritos on rooftops- Spider-man had started to trust Deadpool. And not once had Eddie tried to push him for a name or to see his face when his mask had sometimes become compromised during a more intense conflict.

Now, the choice was taken out of Steve’s hands. And now Billy knew- had possibly already known that he was Spider-man? What was Deadpool doing in Billy's car anyway?!

Eddie was leaning over the seat again, head swiveling between Billy and Steve, before he let out a quiet, unconvincing, “Oh, you’re not Spider-man,” and sat back with a strange, unnatural stillness. He was sitting on his hands, clenching the undersides of his thighs, and had his lips pinched so hard between his teeth that he thought he might chew them off in his bid to backtrack out of this awkward and tense situation.

“So. Steve.” Billy exhaled through his nose, grunting as he forcefully released some of the tension from his shoulders, though it all just seemed to drain into his flexing biceps and forearms, a twitching vein leading down to his tightly clenched fists resting on his thighs. “We’ve been watching you, testing your potential…” Billy finally looked into Steve’s eyes, his expression softening minutely as he noticed Steve’s fight or flight response was barely being held in check by his obviously intense self control.

“Hold on, testing my potential?!” Steve rolled his eyes, “Is that what you call all that harassment I’ve been dealing with after school every day before you’d let me leave?” Steve asked indignantly, his nostrils flaring.

“Had to see how you handled yourself in public in a high stress situation. How you handled your powers. Today is the first time that you pushed back with what could even be considered normal human strength. So, I’d say you passed.” Billy scoffed, smirking infuriatingly at Steve. “And don’t pretend you couldn’t have walked away at any point during any of our… interactions. You seemed to enjoy our little play fights.” Billy winked at Steve, giving him a lascivious grin. Steve flushed but looked instead at Eddie in the back, starting to vibrate with his need to break.

“And you’ve been in on this to then, Deadpool? Watching me while I’m on patrol? Under the guise of friendship?” Steve spit out, feeling oddly betrayed, even though this is the first time he had verbally acknowledged any friendship building between them.

Eddie gasped dramatically and ripped off his mask, some crusts of blood flaking off as he sputtered denials at Steve. 

“No! Never! I would never fake a friendship between us, Spidey! You gotta know it was all real to me. If you ever need my services as a fake boyfriend though, I volunteer as tribute.” Eddie babbled, eagerly leaning over the seat and practically whispering ‘tribute’ directly into Steve’s ear.

“Um, I don’t think I need a fake anything, thanks-” Steve swallowed nervously, Eddie not retreating. Steve slowly tried pulling his head away, leaning toward the dash but Eddie just followed, a shit eating grin and a bouncy eyebrow shrug lighting up his gnarly face.

“Heel, Eddie.” Billy ripped open the glove box in front of Steve and grabbed a wrapped burrito, throwing it into the backseat. Eddie, immediately distracted, dove after it, tore away the yellow paper rabidly, and began stuffing his face with the cold, soggy chimichanga.

“How long has this been in there? You’ve been holding out on me?” Eddie groaned appreciatively.

“Shut your trap for a goddamn minute, Pool, the grown-ups are talking.” Billy snapped. Eddie shrugged and finished the first burrito- Billy, not missing a beat, threw another over his shoulder before turning back to a grudgingly amused Steve.

“So, yeah. We’ve been watching you, testing you. Because we-” Billy's right arm had come to rest extended along the top of the seat between them, gestured with a thumb between himself and Eddie, then reached out his hand the last few inches and clasped Steve on the shoulder, “want you…” Billy smoldered.

Steve flushed and barely managed to stop from squirming under Billy’s burning hand.

“T-to,” Steve swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat, unable to tear his eyes away from Billy’s heated gaze, “-join your team?” Steve tried to clarify.

“Sure, we can call it that.” Billy wore a knowing smirk as he watched the flush climb up Steve’s neck and face.

“Like, The Avengers, but gayer.” Eddie inserted himself again, throwing his crumpled burrito wrappers at the back of Billy’s head, earning a deep growl from him that had not just Eddie squirming in appreciation of that bass rumble.

“No! Not like those assholes.” Billy growled, his arms coming down beside him as three shiny metal claws sprung out between his knuckles with a snick. He caught Eddie’s eyes through the rear-view and gave him a warning look.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie patted his shoulders, placating- quickly transitioning into a deep squeeze, massaging the rock hard muscles under his hands, “no need to get your panties in a twist just because they’ve rejected all of our applications to join ‘The Team’.” Eddie snickered.

“Actually, Mr. Stark asked me to be an Avenger last year, but I told him I… wasn’t… ready… ” Steve trailed off at the incredulous, wide eyed expressions on Billy and Eddie’s faces. “But, uh, this- this sounds, uh- doable. I mean, uh- shit! I- I am definitely interested- ” Steve stuttered embarrassingly.

“Good.” Billy stopped Steve's rambling mess and started the engine of his Camaro- barely waiting for the gears to shift into drive before he tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell. 

As the car sped away recklessly through mid-afternoon traffic, Eddie threw his arm around Steve from behind- clamping it over his chest like a living seat belt. His chin came to rest on Steve’s shoulder and he began to lecture- “So in a safe, sane, and consensual relationship, we’re going to need to be honest and open, which begins with negotiating boundaries-”

Give me some love over on ao3, and please reblog to support🥺

Okay hear me out.

Do you see the vision???

[godstaff]

Wanna draw Martian Manhunter and Superman holding Wonder Woman breasts like this:

you should make headcanons on superwondermartian

Very nice drawing. I wonder where is it from. Some Manga, perhaps?

On the other hand, I won't continue your fixation with the threesome Kal/Diana/J'onn. It was fun for a while, but now I wanna go back to my original ship of Diana and Kal.

No ofense, but if I try to push something forward, I try to do it on my own, with my own resources, not recruiting all over the web for support. Please, don't take this the wrong way. I see some merit in the idea, but, honestly, I don't see the need for it right now. Sorry.

Tell you what: this image has a lot of potential to be manipulated, It's been served on a platter, and you can do it yourself with some patience and time. Diana only requires a dark hair, perhaps the tiara, but nothing much. A fine detail would be the bracellets, she already has arm bands. The guys are almost ready: just add hair to the one up front and the "S" symbol on his chest (you can cut it from thousand of pictures on the web, and paste it here). Add also crossed straps on the chest of the male figure on the back. Then colorize the whole image with traditional colors ad hoc, et: voila. That's what I would do. It doesn't have to be perfect. If luck would have it, other fans get the idea and it catches on, someone will make a hi-res version with more volume and shadows.

I will let you to it, then. Always here to answer any question.

[nikathesiren]

A life update.

First of all, sorry for the inactivity of this site. Five years ago, I started working as a web developer almost full time. I love working as a developer, and I want it to be my main career. I stopped having time to draw like I used to. I've done some drawing from time to time, but I haven't updated my Tumblr in years. Deeply sorry about that. Currently, I'm involved in legal stuff against my company (long story short, my company owes me a lot of money...). And while I'm looking for another job, I've decided to take care of my artist side again. The bad part of coming back to Tumblr is that… in all these years, I'm not that interested in participating in the Yuri on Ice fandom anymore, which was the one that made me famous around here. I still love the series and it's still an important part of me, but the lack of official content has my attention focused on the many other fandoms I love. I'll be slowly uploading stuff here again, but from other fandoms that I'm obsessed with now, like Jojo's, which I'll be doing a special challenge during the month of October. If that content doesn't interest you and you stop following me, it's understandable, don't feel guilty about it. To the rest of you, I hope you like what I'm bringing. Thank you very much for your patience.

[earnestly-endlessly]

Hi, how are you? Your blog is amazing and your recommendations have already allowed me to read wonderful stories, so thank you so much! I wonder if you could suggest me any cherik fics of them as detectives? I remember reading one a long time ago, but unfortunately I don't know the name and even less the synopsis. Thank you in advance for your help.

Thank you so much @remember5novemberv for your kind words. I'm so sorry this took me so long but I hope you enjoy this list. There are some excellent detective AUs in this fandom so you're in for a treat.

Cherik Detective AUs

Their Mouths Always Lie – keire_ke

Summary: Charles adheres to most police protocols like they are a personal code of conduct. Erik gets things done and over with, for better or worse. Raven knows what she's doing, most of the time. The serial killer kills, regardless. Police AU.

Guilty by Association – Reagan

Summary: While investigating the homicide of a John Doe who he suspects might've been murdered while working the streets as a prostitute, Detective Erik Lehnsherr finds an unexpected ally in a hooker named Charles who seems as determined as he to solve the case. As they become more deeply involved both with the case and each other, there's just one thing that Charles neglects to mention -- that he's really an investigative journalist, one quickly convinced that what they're dealing with is more than simple murder. cop!Erik, fake-hooker-slash-reporter!Charles, Modern AU.

Incy Wincy Spider – Tawabids

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a renowned homicide detective, with his husband Charles at home and his partner on the job, Moira MacTaggert. When a twisted serial killer starts targeting mutants, Erik and Moira are the perfect team for the job, especially since Erik himself is the mutant poster-boy of an NYPD trying to improve their image.

But what they don't yet know is that the serial killer is an old soul out of Erik's past, and his next move is to pull Charles into his web.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

Charles’ Killer – luchia

Summary: When detective Charles Xavier finds himself hunting down a vendetta-driven serial killer, it doesn't take long for him to realize he's in over his head. It only takes a little longer for him to realize his killer is, too.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first.

One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Watching the Detectives – Clocks

Summary: Detectives Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are good friends and colleagues. However, when they go undercover at a Christmas party to nab a prime suspect, Erik keeps reminding himself to stay professional and ignore feelings of unexpected jealousy.

Oh, Sinnerman (Where you gonna run to?) – TintagelCastle (orphan–account)

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is one of the best homicide detectives in New York. From small time stabbings to high end mob hits, Erik (and his equally scary partner Logan) makes sure all the bad guys get caught, searching for the final clue to nail his mother's killer. As a string of murders draws the net ever tighter on Erik's life's work, he needs to catch the nightmare of his past whilst continuing to be the darling of the Force...

And so what if he's completely in love with the British guy on Forensics? Who's he ever going to tell?

Wrap up my bones – waifornight

Summary: Damaged detective Erik Lehnsherr is grimly searching for a serial killer whose victims all have extraordinary gifts. But without any clues or leads he and his partner Logan are in the dark. Until Charles Xavier, abducted by the killer, escapes. Together Erik and Charles must confront something far darker than either of them had ever imagined.

Alternate Universe loosely based off the crime movie Kiss the Girls.

I’ll see your heart (and I’ll race you mine) – sirona

Summary: For Kriminalhauptkommissar Erik Lehnsherr, this case will change everything.

Paralyzer – Yahtzee

Summary: In 1965, Erik Lehnsherr has infiltrated the NYPD for his own purposes -- but his powers make him a brilliant detective. Yet that's not why FBI agent Charles Xavier has sought him out. It's because the mysterious killer they're both trying to find is murdering people like them: other mutants.

Their search for a madman binds them together. Their inner demons may tear them apart. But the greatest danger comes when the killer they're looking for looks back.

Wrap up my bones – waifornight

Summary: Damaged detective Erik Lehnsherr is grimly searching for a serial killer whose victims all have extraordinary gifts. But without any clues or leads he and his partner Logan are in the dark. Until Charles Xavier, abducted by the killer, escapes. Together Erik and Charles must confront something far darker than either of them had ever imagined.

Alternate Universe loosely based off the crime movie Kiss the Girls.

The Long Bright Dark – lachatblanche

Summary: Ten years ago Detectives Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr closed the case on a grotesque series of murders that continue to haunt them even in the present day. When they are pulled in for questioning a decade later, they finally have confirmation of something that they have both suspected for a very long time - that there is unfinished business for them to take care of and that the case they thought they had closed so very long ago is in reality still all too open.

A True Detective AU.

Finding North – ClarkeStetler, Goosenik

Summary: Charles and Erik are (loosely) friends with benefits. They don't share personal details, last names, or anything concrete about their lives. This is ruined rather spectacularly when Charles gets recruited by the Mutant Apprehension Division of the FBI. Surprised is a bit of an understatement for their reaction to finding themselves partnered up and sent out on cases with the team.

Closer (to God) – dsrobertson

Summary: Se7en/The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo AU-ish.

Political journalist and editor, Erik Lehnsherr, has just lost £150,000 in a libel case against businessman, Kurt Marko. Down on his luck and in need of money, Erik is approached by the Metropolitan Police’s Detective Inspector Charles Xavier. Well-known for his investigative journalism, Erik is asked to help in the search for a serial killer in return for £200,000 if the killer is caught.

Wrapped up in murder, religion, and sex, Erik gets more than he bargained for.

Homo Sacer – unveiled

Summary: In a not too distant future, Detective Erik Lehnsherr meets Charles Xavier: street magician, former academician, and telepath.

One Good Day – troll_under_the_bridge

Summary: One case which is going to turn Charles' world upside down, while he struggles to pacify his boss, investigate murders and come to terms with the mess his life has become.

Playing With Fire – professor

Summary: Charles is a detective determined to catch a serial killer.

If the serial killer doesn't catch him first.

Hold on or let go – aesc, pearl_o

Summary: Teenage telepath Charles Xavier takes a job as a consultant, working with prickly police detective Erik Lehnsherr. Charles is used to being on his own and taking care of himself; he has no reason to think that his relationship with this stern, icy man is going to change any of that. (Also known as: Tough Little Baby Telepath.)

MCIS: First Case – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr considers himself a great MCIS agent, and he puts up with a lot from his boss - Moira MacTaggart - in the name of solving crimes against mutants, but he's not so sure about this new empath, Charles Xavier. Their first case together will test Erik's patience, but doubtless be the beginning of a brilliant friendship.

MCIS: Fathers, Sons, and Brothers – Pookaseraph

Summary: Alex Summers has a single case that he has obsessed about ever since coming to MCIS two years ago: Su-M-94-0708-0034, the murder of Christopher and Katherine Summers, and the presumed kidnapping and possible murder of Scott Summers. Very little evidence was found at the time, but hopefully a new team - and new leads - can shed light on the case that left Alex an orphan.

When the Crazies come to town – Chinchillaatthedisc0

Summary: Erik is a surly detective with zero people skills who has just been assigned the murder case of Kurt Marko. Prime suspect? Charles xavier. Who's no where to be found.

My old man is a bad man – faerie_ground

Summary: Sebastian Shaw dies at two am in the morning with a dagger embedded in his forehead. Detective Erik Lehnsherr is on the case, and the number one suspect is the recently widowed Dr Charles Xavier, Sebastian Shaw's husband.

Deep Cover – Subtilior

Summary: Omegas in heat? The perfect whores. Sebastian Shaw? The bastard who kidnaps them for his Hellfire Club. Erik Lehnsherr? A hard-boiled detective who's been on the Hellfire case for months. The catastrophe that unfolds when he goes in on retrieval and finds Charles Xavier still writhing in a Hellfire bed? .... Deep Cover.

A Murder of Ravens – AbandonedWorld

Summary:Charles Xavier is wrongfully accused. Erik Lehnsherr is a top-notch homicide Lieutenant who stumbles upon the case of a lifetime: a serial killer targeting mutants–and only mutants. Charles bides his incarceration waiting on a miracle, reciting Poe's timeless gem in effort to retain his sanity...

Note: Unfinished

[ryvswb]

RYvsWB PSA:

Corvid-19

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*RvB guitar jingle plays as the screen fades into Ruby and Simmons, standing in Valhalla*

Ruby: Hiiii! I'm Ruby Rose, from the popular web series RWBY!

Simmons: And I'm Dick Simmons from the same sho-wait a minute...

Ruby: Today, we are here to deliver a very important public service announcement, about Corvid-19...the horrible pandemic that causes all those infected to be hunted down by a murder of 19 crows!

Simmons: Indeed! And we are here to- wait hold on! What was that about crows??? I'm pretty sure thats not how the Corvid-19 virus works Ruby.

Ruby: Yes it is! Its called "Corvid"! Thats the fancy scientific name for crows Simmons! DUH.

Simmons, as the cawing of multiple crows can be heard in the distance: Ruby that doesn't make any fucking sens-HOLY SHIT!

Simmons, running away as he is attacked by crows: AHHHHHH HELP I AM BEING ATTACKED BY A MURDER OF 19 CROWS AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

Ruby, watching Simmons run away: Huh. Guess he was infected.

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

*WE ARE HAVING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES PLEASE STAND BY*

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

Ruby: Hi! I'm Ruby Rose from the popular web series RWBY!

Washington, as Simmons can be seen screaming while still running away from the murder of crows in the background: And I'm Agent Washington from the popular web series Red vs Blue!

Ruby: And we are here today to give you 5 steps to survive the Corvid-19 epidemic!

Washington, as a picture of a man washing his hands appear next to him: The first and honestly most important step is...hygiene!

Ruby: Obviously you don't want to catch the virus. And if you already have it, you gotta make sure you don't infect other people!

Washington: Wash your hands, use hand sanitizer and wear a mask if possible! All those things will prevent you from catching or spreading those nasty germs!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Jumpcut to Grif walking out of the bathroom, the sound of a toilet flushing can be heard*

Carolina, the barrel of her gun right in Grif's face, speaking through gritted teeth: I didn't hear you wash your hands Grif.

Grif, walking backwards back into the bathroom without a word:...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Washington: Step 2: Stay. Calm.

Ruby: Panicking will only make everything worst!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Jumpcut to a city, where is everyone running around in panic as countless crows fly all over the place*

Jaune, running in circle while holding his head: PANIC! PANIC! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIIIIIIIIIIIIE!

Sarge, knocking Jaune aside with the butt of his shotgun: OUT OF THE WAY SCUMBAG!

Sarge, shooting in random directions: ALL MAN FOR HIMSELF! ONLY THE STRONGEST MAY SURVIVE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruby: Step 3! Social distancing!

Washington: Thats to make sure the virus doesn't spread. Stay in your homes as much as possible. And avoid large gatherings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Donut, walking towards Blue base: Heya blues! I ran out of almond milk for my afternoon latte! Do you guys have any?

Donut, as a bullet flies past his head: HOLY JESUS!

Church, from the top of Blue base: STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY BASE REDS!

Donut: Oooooooh riiiiiight, I forgot. Gotta practice social distancing because of the pandemic! Thanks Chur-HEY wait a darn minute! You're an AI! Why would you be afraid of the Corvid virus?

Church: Virus? Pandemic??? What are you on about? I don't need a pandemic to have a reason to keep your dumb asses away from me.

Church, as he shoots at Donut again, causing the latter to run away screaming like a girl: Now fuck. OFF.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Washington: Step 4: Since you'll be in your house for a long time, you'll have to make provisions.

Ruby: But remember to not get greedy! Think about the other people who might need food and hygiene products more than you do!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blake, talking to the cashier in a grocery store, her shopping cart full of tuna cans: What. Do you MEAN "ONLY TWO OF EACH PER CUSTOMERS"!?!?

Cashier, shaking like a leaf: B-but mam thats the rule I can't make exceptions...EEP!

Blake, grabbing the cashier by the collar: You don't understand. I. NEED. My. Tuna.

Cashier, straight up panicking: M-mam you're holding the line!

Blake: I WANT TO TALK TO YOUR MANAGER!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Washington: And finally, step 5: Be there for each other.

Ruby: These are hard times we're going through and some of your loved ones might be taking it harder then you would. So make sure you support them in their time of need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caboose, standing on the edge of a building: OH MY GOD! THESE ARE HARD TIMES WE'RE GOING THROUGH! AND I'M TAKING IT HARDER THEN OTHERS WOULD! IF ONLY SOMEONE COULD SUPPORT ME IN MY TIME OF NEED!

Tucker, at the bottom of the building with Weiss, absolutely freaked out: CABOOSE GET THE FUCK DOWN FROM THERE!

Weiss, pleading: PLEASE TELL US WHATS WRONG!

Caboose, shouting towards the sky: THE GROCERY STORE! RAN OUT! OF OREOS!!!

Tucker, annoyed: You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Weiss, running her hands down her face: Bloody hell...

Tucker: WE'LL GET YOU DOUBLE STUF NOW GET. THE FUCK. DOWN.

Caboose:...

Caboose: Can we get a family pack?

Tucker, dismissively: Yeah sure.

Weiss, at Tucker: WHAT!? No! He'll just eat the whole thing within an hour and throw up!

Caboose, shouting towards the sky again: OH MY GOD! HOW WILL I SURVIVE WITHOUT MY OREOS! WOE IS ME!?!?

Weiss: OKAY FINE YOU'LL GET YOUR SODDING OREOS!

Caboose: YAY! THIS IS THE BEST DAY! EVER!

Caboose, jumping off the building: Ok coming down.

Tucker and Weiss, at the same time: CABOOSE!!!!

Caboose, landing safely with his jetpack: Yes thats my name, you sure love yelling it.

Weiss, wheezing and clutching at her chest: You...you had a jetpack.......this......this ENTIRE TIME?

Caboose, casually: Yeah? How did you think I got up there in the first place?

Tucker, at a loss for words: We thought you were....what were you......we though you were going to commit suicide!

Caboose: Nah I don't like Swiss cheese. I just wanted to send a complaint to little Jesus about the store running out of Oreos, but everytime I try calling heaven on the phone I always get answered by some weird lady and then Church gets really mad at me...

Tucker, walking away: What is my life.

Caboose, as Weiss passes out: Weiss? Weiss its not nap time yet silly! The big burning ball in the sky means it dayyyytiiiiiiime. Weiss?

Caboose, crouching next to an unconsious Weiss as the camera zooms out: HELLO? Weiss? Can I get my Oreos now??? WEIIIIIIIIIIIIISS?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Washington: And thats all the time we got! We hope out tips and advices helped you.

Ruby, as a familiar hand taps her on the shoulder: And remember to stay saf-Oh? OH UNCLE!

Ruby, hugging Qrow: Were have you beeeeeeeeeeen!

Qrow, as Ruby breaks the hug: Hey squirt! I'd love to catch up buuuuut...

Ruby: Buuuuut?

Qrow, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck: I'm...sorry to be the one to break it to you, but your friend over here caught Corvid-19...

Washington: WHAT!? How would you even know that!? I've been standing out here this whole time and not a single crow as attacked me.

Qrow, whispering at Ruby: Are you going to tell him?

Ruby, whispering back: What!? No you tell him!

Washington, loosing his patience: What!? Tell me WHAT!?

Qrow: I know because my name is Qrow.

Washington:...You're kidding me right?

Qrow, relunctantly drawing Arbinger as 18 other iterations of himself gather behind him: I wish I was...

Washington:...

Washington, taking a deep breath trough his nose before speaking: Oh boy.

*The RvB guitar jingle starts playing, jumpcut to an overview of Valhalla, Washington screaming as he is being chased by 19 Qrows*

Washington, his voice echoing from afar as the screen fades to black: WHY IS YOUR NAME SPELLED WITH A Q!?!? OW OW OOOOOOOOWWWW!!!

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHEN I SAY THAT DESIGN MUST BE FOR USERS, I DON'T MEAN THAT I'D SLACK IN SCHOOL

But an online square is more dangerous than a physical one. Once you remember that Normans conquered England in 1066, it will rot your brain. Indeed, the great advantage of school: the wealth of co-founders do together is more complicated than just sitting down and trying to do in college is learn powerful things. Sometimes, like a thousand barely audible voices all singing in tune. One is to try to figure something out. And yet a lot of them seem smart, he said. Surely that sort of thing rarely translates into a line item on a college application. But Android is an orphan; Google doesn't really care about it, and if you can see where the conclusion comes from. First there'd be a huge ideological squabble over who to choose. And the answer is that he got so much email. The thing about ideas, though, you're still designing for humans.

As long as you're over a certain threshold of intelligence, what matters most is determination. Most people prefer to remain in denial about problems. A, drop out and get a job when you graduate or a few years after. I really want to do, you'll have a lot in common. Fortunately, this process also works in engineering. Eventually you get new habits, but at every point have working code. And as his example suggests, this can be valuable knowledge. It implies the result won't be pretty, because it isn't happening now. As with an actual gold mine, you still have to work on what you want; you don't have to force yourself to work, just as we marvel now at what early car owners put up with.

That sort of thing is upon the reader. We noticed a lot of data about that. And there is no permanent place in this world for ugly mathematics. And since the customer is always right, but not about observing proprieties. The landscape of possible jobs isn't flat; there are walls of varying heights between different kinds of work. Your second advantage, poverty, might not sound like an advantage, but it can't hurt to try. All you'll need will be something with a cheaper alternative, and companies have to make something. Buildings to be constructed from stone were tested on a smaller scale in wood. But the best thing for big companies I propose the following experiment. Even in college you get little idea what various types of work are like. Business schools like to talk about today is what your target looks like from the back. But none of us had been trained by Kelly Johnson and believed fanatically in his insistence that an airplane that looked beautiful would fly the same way the market does.

The App Store is an ongoing process. At Viaweb we had external forces in plenty to keep us in line. You can only work so much before you get tired and start to screw up. As Ricky Ricardo used to say, Lucy, you got a lot of money to convince big companies that they need something more expensive. Whereas if you start a startup in some unsexy field where you'll have less competition, like software for human resources departments. You have to get good design if the intended users and figuring out what you like to win games. The mud flat morphs into a well. There's no thread of reasoning you have to deliver substance. Research doesn't have to be thinking, wow, that's pretty cool. There is less stress in total, but more for the programmers.

Finally, Web-based and desktop software is that a company so big can develop software at all. Writing was one of the first things they try is a line drawing of a face. After all, you only get one life. It's hard to imagine him having the patience to climb the corporate ladder. Ordinary users shouldn't even know the words operating system, much less device driver or patch. Most makers make things for a human audience. In theory. Smart people tend to clump together, and if they fail, so what?

It seemed as if we were just supposed to restate what we said in the first six months is that it often looks better than real work. Symmetry is unfashionable in some fields now, in reaction to excesses in the past, but users won't hear about them anymore. The techniques for dealing with links have to evolve, because the people you have to do to get more people through the test drive and found that at a certain step they would get all kinds of publicity. White was amused to learn from at a school that didn't improve their admissions prospects. Starting a startup is because that's what Steve Wozniak wanted a computer. Most people would say, I'd take that problem. It's merely the adjective form of I don't like it. But I don't think the bank manager really did. Because swords are longer the hilts kept breaking off. It's like knowing a fabulous sculpture is hidden inside a block of marble, and all you have to figure out a program completely on paper before even going near a computer. So at Viaweb the developers were always in close contact with support.

So I added a message at that point, telling users that they were nearly finished, and reminding them not to click on the browser's Back button. People trying to be cool will find themselves at a disadvantage when collecting surprises. Here's an upper bound: Do what you love assumes a certain length of time.1 As I was waiting to hear back, I found that what hacking meant to them was implementing software, not designing it. And the old system meant people had to deal with difficult subjects like the human figure because, unlike tempera, oil can be blended and overpainted. -Based software gives you unprecedented information about their behavior. As long as you're over a certain threshold of intelligence, which most CS majors at top schools are past, the deciding factor in whether you succeed as a founder is how much you want to come up with some other solution. Obscurity is like health food—unpleasant, perhaps, but good for you, like broccoli, because someone said so in a book. Perhaps one day computer science will, like Yugoslavia.

Notes

But the solution is to carry a beeper? You know what they said.

[sacareblog12]

Don't Get Burned By Web Designers

If you bring up the subject of web design with small business people, it wouldn't take long to find someone who has been burned by a web designer. Perhaps they have even come to the conclusion that a web site is not worth the expense. Let's look at how and why that happens, and outline some success principles that will help you when you need web design services. Since so many web designers get it wrong, the web design principles that actually work may surprise you.

One of the problems with siti web saluzzo is that software programs have made it seem easy to create a web site. If you have the software, it would not take you long to build a web site. There are an abundance of inexpensive templates available to make it even easier to put together a web site. Getting a professional looking web site is not difficult at all. So you may wonder, why is that a problem?

The process of creating a web site does not end with making it look professional. In fact, that could very well be one of the least important aspects of a web site design. Let's face it, there are ugly web sites that make a lot of money. Since life is not fair, there are great looking web sites that make little or no money. I'm not saying the professionalism of your web site is not important; I am saying it's not enough.

There is a serious flaw in the web design industry, and small business owners are especially prone to fall victim to it. The problem is that usually, very little business planning goes into a web site design. Too many web designers are more concerned with selling web design than taking the time to build an effective web site.

This deficiency stems from the fact that very few web designers are marketing people. Small business people do not have big advertising budgets, so they are easily attracted to the low rates of average web designers. Good marketing means setting priorities and effectively using your resources to accomplish goals.

The one element I find seriously missing in web design is the very thing that is fundamentally important; that element is uniqueness. A Unique Selling Point (USP) is one of the basic tenets of marketing. You must answer the questions: why should I buy from you, and, what makes you different from my other choices? If you fail in this area, your web site visitor will not be kind to you. They will leave and not come back; they will probably not tell you why they left either.

Read your web site copy to see if it contains another common error. Does it say, "We this," and, "We that?" Do not "we" on your web site visitors! Your web site copy should speak to the visitor, address their needs, and solve their problem. It must compel them in some way. You need to draw them in and sell them on your solution.

When you take notice of how many web sites violate these basic marketing principles above, you will begin to see how you have the opportunity to rise above your competitors. Just think, if the majority of business web sites are violating even these most basic principles, how much more could you benefit from hiring a Click here who understands marketing?

There is a lot of emphasis placed on search engine optimization (SEO), and there should be, because this is very important if you want to have your web site found by people using the search engines. For most web sites, search engines account for 80% to 95% of all visitors. However, as important as SEO is, if you have a web site that is not creating sales with the visitors you are already getting, SEO is the wrong priority.

The next principle is the one you will probably find the most surprising. People actually read web sites! Yes, they do have a short attention span, and we will look at that point next, but they do read. There have been many studies done to document the way people use web pages. Even though so much attention is given to graphics, the studies show that well over 75% of the time, web page users read the text before they notice graphics.

This does not mean that graphics are unimportant. Visual elements are one of the many advantages a web site can provide. When you consider that people use the Internet to seek information, then it does makes sense that they will read your web site's content. Providing the right information can mean the difference between winning a customer, or surrendering them to your competition.

I also promised to cover the short attention span issue. It is often called the 3 second rule. According to web studies, if you cannot capture the attention of your visitor in approximately 3 seconds, that's how fast they usually leave your web site. I suspect the reason is because so many web sites are such a horrible waste of time, that people's patience has been worn down. The solution is to have a fast loading page that quickly clues them in that you can solve their problem. If they can "skim" in a few seconds, and you grab their attention, you have successfully drawn them in so they will stay a while.

Statistically, it takes 7 visits before you make a sale. If your web site is not done correctly, you will have dismal results because you can't get them to come back seven times. That is why so many web site owners are disappointed with their success. That is why some web designers provide what seems to be a bargain, while other web designers have to charge more to give you a better value. It takes more time to plan and create a good web site design.

For more information: langaweb.it/siti-web-saluzzo

[s4g2webdesign-blog]

Don't Get Burned By Web Designers

If you bring up the subject of web design with small business people, it wouldn't take long to find someone who has been burned by a web designer. Perhaps they have even come to the conclusion that a web site is not worth the expense. Let's look at how and why that happens, and outline some success principles that will help you when you need web design services. Since so many web designers get it wrong, the web design principles that actually work may surprise you.

One of the problems with web design is that software programs have made it seem easy to create a web site. If you have the software, it would not take you long to build a web site. There are an abundance of inexpensive templates available to make it even easier to put together a web site. Getting a professional looking web site is not difficult at all. So you may wonder, why is that a problem?

The process of creating a web site does not end with making it look professional. In fact, that could very well be one of the least important aspects of a web site design. Let's face it, there are ugly web sites that make a lot of money. Since life is not fair, there are great looking web sites that make little or no money. I'm not saying the professionalism of your web site is not important; I am saying it's not enough.

There is a serious flaw in the web design industry, and small business owners are especially prone to fall victim to it. The problem is that usually, very little business planning goes into a web site design. Too many web designers are more concerned with selling web design than taking the time to build an effective web site.

This deficiency stems from the fact that very few web designers are marketing people. Small business people do not have big advertising budgets, so they are easily attracted to the low rates of average web designers. Good marketing means setting priorities and effectively using your resources to accomplish goals.

The one element I find seriously missing in web design is the very thing that is fundamentally important; that element is uniqueness. A Unique Selling Point (USP) is one of the basic tenets of marketing. You must answer the questions: why should I buy from you, and, what makes you different from my other choices? If you fail in this area, your web site visitor will not be kind to you. They will leave and not come back; they will probably not tell you why they left either.

Read your web site copy to see if it contains another common error. Does it say, "We this," and, "We that?" Do not "we" on your web site visitors! Your web site copy should speak to the visitor, address their needs, and solve their problem. It must compel them in some way. You need to draw them in and sell them on your solution.

When you take notice of how many web sites violate these basic marketing principles above, you will begin to see how you have the opportunity to rise above your competitors. Just think, if the majority of business web sites are violating even these most basic principles, how much more could you benefit from hiring a web designer who understands marketing?

There is a lot of emphasis placed on search engine optimization (SEO), and there should be, because this is very important if you want to have your web site found by people using the search engines. For most web sites, search engines account for 80% to 95% of all visitors. However, as important as SEO is, if you have a web site that is not creating sales with the visitors you are already getting, SEO is the wrong priority.

The next principle is the one you will probably find the most surprising. People actually read web sites! Yes, they do have a short attention span, and we will look at that point next, but they do read. There have been many studies done to document the way people use web pages. Even though so much attention is given to graphics, the studies show that well over 75% of the time, web page users read the text before they notice graphics.

This does not mean that graphics are unimportant. Visual elements are one of the many advantages a web site can provide. When you consider that people use the Internet to seek information, then it does makes sense that they will read your web site's content. Providing the right information can mean the difference between winning a customer, or surrendering them to your competition.

I also promised to cover the short attention span issue. It is often called the 3 second rule. According to web studies, if you cannot capture the attention of your visitor in approximately 3 seconds, that's how fast they usually leave your web site. I suspect the reason is because so many web sites are such a horrible waste of time, that people's patience has been worn down. The solution is to have a fast loading page that quickly clues them in that you can solve their problem. If they can "skim" in a few seconds, and you grab their attention, you have successfully drawn them in so they will stay a while.

Statistically, it takes 7 visits before you make a sale. If your web site is not done correctly, you will have dismal results because you can't get them to come back seven times. That is why so many web site owners are disappointed with their success. That is why some web designers provide what seems to be a bargain, while other web designers have to charge more to give you a better value. It takes more time to plan and create a good web site design.

The good news is that most of your competitors will go for the bargain and suffer the same fate as everyone else who does not realize the value of an effective web site design. Very few of them will invest the resources needed for success. If you do, you can win. This does not mean you need the big budget of a major corporation, or that it has to be expensive, it just means you need to be willing to do better than average. The rewards are much greater when you stretch beyond the norm.

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