#just another Tuesday at The Knick

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[eleonoraalbright]

I need some Peter Maximoff fluff😭🤚

Peter Maximoff x Asexual!reader that’s scared Peter will leave them over it

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Asexual!Reader

Excerpt: Peter laid a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, but you shied away from his touch. Withdrawing his hand, he had to strain his ears to hear your next words. “Peter…” You gulped and seemed to be steeling yourself. “I’m asexual.”

A/N: I did some research and on Tumblr, one user said that asexuality is a spectrum; some asexuals are sex-repulsed and some love it. The reader in this fic is a sex-repulsed asexual.

Peter Maximoff wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he could tell something was troubling you. It started a week ago in his mom's basement on a peaceful Sunday afternoon. You were both relaxing by watching a movie that was playing on the TV. 

Technically you were watching the flick while he was racing in and out of the house and around the city, but he popped in often enough to keep up with the movie and show off his new knick-knacks to you. He had just come back from collecting an original Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots free of charge when he saw you rushing up the stairs in a hurry. 

He asked, “Hey, where’re you going?”

You froze as if you had been caught doing something wrong. “I—um—forgot I had some other plans today and I don’t wanna flake on them. Sorry, Peter, I’ll see you later.” You brushed past him without another glance and left. 

In the end, Peter shrugged it off. The excuse was pretty vague, but maybe you had a lot on your mind at the moment and just wanted a bit of time alone. Oh well, he’ll see you tomorrow anyway. He ran to his room and unboxed his game before rushing off again to find more cool loot.

Turns out Peter didn’t see you the following day, or at least he saw less of you than he would’ve liked. He showed up at your door to see if you wanted to hit the arcade and the comic shops. To his disappointment, you refused. You explained that there were extra chores that needed to be done and that they would take all day. He offered to help, but you declined. 

On Tuesday, you couldn’t go out with him because relatives were coming to visit and your family wanted you to stay. On Wednesday, Peter began to grow suspicious. When he popped over to your place, you said that you had been grounded for the next month. Peter didn’t believe you. Being grounded had never stopped you from hanging out with him before, so why should it now?

The obvious answer was that you didn’t want to see him. But why was that? Each time you had seen him since Sunday you avoided his gaze and kept him at arm's length. What had happened that could have caused this change in you? Peter mulled over the possibilities in his mind as he played ping pong with himself.

He recounted the things he talked about, but couldn’t think of an instance where he was careless with his words. Unless the playful argument about whether The Addams Family or The Munsters was the better show had not been as playful as Peter thought it had. Nah, that couldn’t be it. Peter stopped dead in his tracks. 

Had he forgotten yours and his anniversary? He checked the calendar nailed to the wall where you had written down important dates he should remember. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was in three months. Phew, so it couldn’t have been that. But then what was it! The mystery was driving Peter up the wall. 

All he wanted to do was see you! After a few minutes, he decided what course of action to take. He zipped to the flower shop and got a colorful bouquet. He dropped by the candy shop and procured a careful selection of all your favorite sweets and won a little stuffed orangutan from a claw machine. With this assortment of gifts, he raced over to your house and into your bedroom. 

You were sitting on your bed, thumbing through a magazine, and jumped when he made his presence known by pushing the flowers, the candies, and the stuffie onto your lap. He said, “I’m sorry for whatever I did. I can’t figure it out, but I’m really sorry. Can we talk again? What’s wrong?”

Setting his presents aside, you brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them. You replied in a quiet voice, “You shouldn’t be here, Peter.”

“C’mon, what’s the matter?” He crouched down next to the bed, a lop-sided grin on his face. “Did aliens abduct you?” He joked, hoping humor would help you open up. 

Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and you began to rock back and forth. You covered your face with your hands and whispered, “I think we should break up.” Peter was shocked, nothing could have prepared him for that statement. You continued speaking, “I-I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Tears streamed down your cheeks and a sob escaped your lips. “I didn't think it’d be a big deal, but things are getting serious and I can’t hold it in any longer.”

Peter laid a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, but you shied away from his touch. Withdrawing his hand, he had to strain his ears to hear your next words. “Peter…” You gulped and seemed to be steeling yourself. “I’m asexual.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. He had heard that term before. Using his powers, he ran to the library and retrieved a biology textbook. He read page after page until he finally found his answer. He returned to your bedroom and read aloud, “You have the capability to reproduce without exchanging genetic information with another organism through sex? Are you a mu–”

“No, no! Not that type of asexual!” You closed your eyes and shook your head. “It means that I don’t experience sexual attraction. My brain isn’t hardwired that way—I don’t have those sexual desires or feelings that most people have—it’s not a part of who I am. I just don’t wanna have sex.”

Still confused, Peter processed this information. “Okay, but what does this have to do with us breaking up?”

You stared slack jawed at him, dumbfounded at his question. “You mean y-you don’t care. You don’t want to break up?”

“No, of course not! Why would I?” Peter’s confusion grew when you burst into tears. You started crying and buried your face into your pillow. Peter rubbed your back and tried his best to provide support. “Babe?”

You sat up and threw your arms around him and hugged him as tightly as you were able. You gasped between sobs, “I was s-so scared you’d leave me over it! I didn’t wanna lose you. I was gonna break it off to save you the trouble.” 

Peter hugged you with equal fervor and stroked your hair. He felt terrible. It must’ve been a horrible week for you, convinced that he’d wouldn’t want to be with you anymore. He pressed a kiss to your temple and cupped your chin as he locked eyes with you. “I’d never leave you. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

He didn’t know how long you two remained in that embrace and didn’t care. He would sit here all night if it made you feel better. You wiped away your tears, saying, “Wanna go get some pizza to celebrate?”

“And what are we celebrating exactly?”

“Not breaking up and the fact I got that confession off my chest. I feel a million times lighter now.”

“I like the way you think, babe.” With the problem settled, he sped you and himself to the nearest pizza parlor to have a delicious dinner and revel in each other’s company.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 6: Storm Warning

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: You have the suspicions you tried to push down for so long, confirmed.

Word count: 4,446

Content/warnings: heavy drinking, kissing, flirting, nervousness, fighting, yelling, Sam Wilson, a switch flip, swears, ANGSTTT, betrayal?

Author’s Note: You guys know that vine where the surfer is making all those sounds talking about the crazy waves? That’s how I felt writing this. *wapahh*

Anyway, can’t wait for your feedback on this one. I’d love to hear what you’ve got to say. Feel free to drop and ask, or a comment, or a reblog!! Those are my life source.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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On Tuesday afternoon after work, you were excited to see Steve. And honestly, you hadn’t been this excited for anything in a long time. Giddy, almost, and it felt completely out of character. You were so used to your schedule and your normal obligations, that the things out of the ordinary seemed like such a burden, but this was anything but. You weren’t sure how everything felt like it changed so quickly.

You pulled up to a modern townhouse on the edge of the city in an unbelievably nice area. Sure, it was gorgeous, and evidently expensive, but its inconvenience led you to believe that this wasn’t Steve’s only place. He probably had a country home, and an apartment in the heart of town in addition to this. This place seemed too relaxed to be where someone who had such an insane schedule, from what you could draw, would live. And that’s the thing, it didn’t seem very lived-in from what you could see through the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked the front door.

As you rang the bell, you almost expected a house cleaner, or a butler to come greet you, but instead, you saw Steve emerge from some distant hallway. He was in a leather jacket, with a deep blue collared shirt underneath, not dressed down, but not dressed up at all compared to what you’d usually seen him wear to work.

As he saw you though the glass, though, and smiled brightly, you weren’t able to return it, feeling something shift in the air behind you. You whipped around to see if anything was there, but you were just met with an empty street, filled only by cars on the quiet block. It was similar to how you’d been feeling for the past week or so, but every time you turned around, nothing was there, so you tried to brush it off.

By the time you went to face forward again, Steve was at the door, looking down to where you stood on the steps. You nervously smiled up at him as he gestured for you to come in.

He grabbed your bag from you, giving a side hug that squeezed your shoulders, along with a greeting of a kiss on the top of your head. “Welcome, sweetheart. I’d give you a tour, but there’s not really much on this level. All the good stuff is downstairs. I’ll show you where you can get changed if you want.

You nodded along, still in your pantsuit, the product of sitting in the courthouse for another case today. But it wasn’t all bad, because you got to briefly hang out with DA Barber. He let you walk around his office during breaks, looking through his knick knacks. You spoke to his admin, who for some reason had dozens of pens on hand, offering you as many as you wanted. Of course you took a bunch, picking out a particularly nice one for Steve and tucking it in your jacket pocket to give to him this evening.

You walked through the house with its tall ceilings, awe-struck at its simple beauty, despite how barren it seemed. That was only the front entry way, though, because Steve led you down a set of steps to a basement which he had finished and turned into what you assumed was his man cave. The walls were lined with art, interesting and intricate, yet surprisingly complementary to the dark tones that filled the space. In the middle, near a fully stocked bar, sat a pool table. It really was a nice little setup.

Steve stopped just before you got there, though, turning around and showing you where the bathroom was and leaving you to it.

It was a relief to be out of that blazer, and when you emerged from the restroom, you could see Steve had laid out a set of hangers for you so it didn’t get wrinkled. He was leaning up against the bar, ankles crossed across each other, sipping a glass of water.

“So can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? A cocktail? Dinner?”

You smiled and your eyes lit up. “Dinner?” He laughed and nodded, sauntering over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist as yours gravitated to his shoulders.

“Yeah, dinner. I’d say your favorite is already on the way, but I wanted to make sure you don’t get sick of it, so I figured I’d let you choose. Anything you want.”

He leaned in to press a quick peck to your lips that left you chasing for more, to which he happily obliged. You pulled away for breath, putting your forehead against his chest for a second to think. “Why don’t you surprise me. Something good. We’ll save the pasta for later this week. Maybe it can be road-trip food to take down to the farm. Bee will love it, too, I’m sure.”

He nodded, pulling out his phone to send in your surprise order, before walking back over to the bar and grabbing his beer, taking a sip and wordlessly offering you one, which you accepted. Before you took a sip, though, you remembered what you had brought him.

“Oh! By the way, I have something for you!” You went over to your bag, missing Steve’s surprised expression, but hearing a faint “oh?” followed by his footsteps in your direction.

You fished around, speaking over your shoulder intermittently. “It’s not much, but I figured since you sent me all those nice things the other week, that I should return the favor. Plus, I felt kinda bad for kicking you out of my apartment on Saturday.”

Steve set down his bottle, walking to your side when you finally found what you were looking for. “Ah! Here it is.”

When you stood, your face was almost right next to his, so you took half a step back, awkwardly shoving your hand between the two of you. “I got you a pen-But it’s uh… a really nice pen. One of those ones people use to sign official documents and stuff. I stole it from the DA’s office, so I guess it’s not an official gift, but I thought you would like it and I figured you do that kind of stuff a lot in day-to-day life, although I’m not really sure-“

You were cut off from your rambling by his hand over yours, accepting the present, and engulfing your digits in his. You took in a sharp gasp, looking between where the two of you met and his warm gaze.

“Thank you, Sweetheart. I really appreciate it. No matter where you got it.”

You tried to force yourself to swallow, your mouth growing dry at the contact. Even though you had kissed, something about this moment had seemed more intimate than before. You raised your other hand, bracing it against his chest because you were worried that if you didn’t, your jello arm would drop, pulling the rest of your body along with it. “And, um. A deck of cards. I got you a really nice deck of cards. Professional grade.”

You could feel the puff of air that came from his breathy laugh as his other hand came up to meet yours. “Thank you. This really wasn’t necessary, but I love it.” You simply nodded and pushed yourself away from him, trying to break the moment. Sure, you loved being that close, and you couldn’t have gotten a better response, but it was a lot to take in.

You turned around to get out of your own head and attempt to regain some logic since your mind had almost gone empty right there. “So…um..pool, right? You think you can beat me?”

You had pulled in on yourself, arms close to your chest, but pointing toward the table, as you finally brought your body to turn around again and face Steve. You were met with a view of his broad back, carefully setting your gifts on a shelf and reaching for the cues.

“You know, now that I know what your nickname means, I’m not sure. It’s my understanding that you’re far better than you let on and you were keeping it a secret.”

Somehow he had already put you at ease again. He walked past you, towards a brick pillar off to the side of the room to grab the rest of the equipment you needed to start. You rolled your eyes, shifting your feet so you continued to face him. “I wasn’t keeping anything a secret. I just don’t blab about that stuff. And to be fair, you never asked me.”

Steve shrugged as he handed you the cue. “I guess you’re right. And you wouldn’t be mad at me either, for not telling you something you didn’t ask specifically, right?”

That was weird. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Your eyebrows went from relaxed, to drawn inward with suspicion. “Well, it depends on the thing, I guess…”

You tried to brush it off, and it helped that Steve did, too. Maybe he was just curious and had some sort of surprise planned. Or maybe it was something else, but the way he quickly moved onto the next subject helped you to do the same, as you started the first round.

Steve had let you break to start out, which led to your immediate win. He had a smile laced with several emotions all at once as he watched you move with grace, confidence, and ease around the table. By the time you were starting the second game, Steve breaking this time, you heard someone walking down the stairs. It would’ve concerned you that someone random was in his home if Steve wasn’t acting so casual about it.

“Ah, that must be Sam with dinner. Bar food for the bar mood. I hope you like fries.”

Just then, the figure emerged from the staircase, wearing a suit. Figures. He made a beeline for you, reaching out your hand and shaking it. “Hi, you must be Decks. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Sam. I was at the farm all those weeks ago, but I’m sorry we didn’t get to cross paths.”

You shook his hand happily before he asked to pull Steve aside for a moment. He seemed really nice, and who could complain about someone who appeared to be a friend, bearing food?

You took the opportunity to open the paper bag, setting everything out on the bar, fries packaged separately from a plethora of toppings to stay crispy. How thoughtful. You began your snacking before Steve came back.

He returned with a feigned offended look on his face. “So, what? I leave for a second and you’ve already started without me? How’s that fair?”

You laughed and looked at him, fry sticking out of your mouth like a cigarette, simply shrugging until he surprised you by jumping forward and chomping off the other end of the fry, cutting it short.

If you weren’t so focused on not losing what bit was left in your mouth, your jaw would’ve dropped in shock. Steve carried on like almost nothing had happened and picked up his cue again, speaking with his mouth half full. “So it’s my turn still, right?”

The games continued on like that, you and Steve going back and forth on who started, taking shots with fries hanging out of your mouths, and you still winning effortlessly. But as the night went on, though, Steve seemed to be getting more focused on the game. He paid more attention to the angle of your shots, and was almost rooting for you to be better than him with a weird seriousness to it. It wasn’t really fun anymore, or at least the excitement seemed like it was starting to fade for some odd reason. He didn’t try to make any more moves on you, instead letting you be in your zone, making you feel like this was hardly a date anymore. It got to the point where he, rejoined by Sam, was just watching, beer long abandoned to sober up and focus. You’d just about had enough of it. Something wasn’t being spoken out into the open air. After this evaluation, you decided to run an experiment. To see if your hunch was right. On what should’ve been an easy shot, you instead moved an inch to the side, and sunk the 8 ball into the pocket before you were supposed to do. The tension in the room got worse and you could audibly hear Steve wince with a soft “shit.”

You turned around at that. You were right. Something was off about this whole thing.

“Okay, what is going on? Ever since I got here, you’ve been going through waves of being so serious, but that was the last nail in the coffin. I thought it was just because we were both nervous for my first time being at your place, but this is much more than that. I’m sure of it. So tell me what it is. Why are you pushing so hard for me to win?”

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. Sam straightened in a bar stool next to him, his eyes roaming everywhere, not wanting to linger on you and the fire raising in your expression. This isn’t how Steve wanted this to go, but you knew too well something was up. He still stayed silent.

“Steve, why do we have to go back to the farm this weekend and why do I have to practice? Why is Bee not returning my calls, either? What’s riding on this game? Why is it such a big deal? And what do you have to do with this? Why are you so personally invested?”

Steve still didn’t say anything, finally daring himself to look up and into your eyes through his lashes. His expression was troubled. He started to open his mouth, but nothing came out. Suddenly it was all dry from your rage. This was his worst fear, well, besides the unspeakable things Lloyd might have planned if you lost. You were getting impatient, though. Even when Steve wasn’t smooth, he would still talk to you. Talking was something you thought the two of you did pretty well, but apparently not right now.

“Steven. Words!”

Steve let out a sigh, signaling for Sam to give the two of you the room. There was no escaping this now. He’d pushed the limit on the timeframe he had to tell you the truth. “Listen, Sweetheart. You’re right. There’s… a lot… you should know, that I haven’t told you, so let me start at the beginning.”

You didn’t have time for him to try and sugarcoat this. You wanted the whole truth and you wanted it now. And so help you if there was something going on that you weren’t aware about, that was causing you issues you could’ve prevented, someone was getting the brunt of it.

You dropped your cue on the table, stomping over to the beer fridge and grabbing another bottle, hell, why not two, and storming towards a comfy leather chair, throwing yourself down and crossing your legs. “Go on, Stevie. Speak.”

Normally, he would’ve been elated to hear you call him that, but it was nowhere near the tender manner he was hoping you’d use the first time. It was bitter, and biting, and he hadn’t even said anything yet. This was not going to go well.

He sighed and started, eyes on you as if he was trying not to spook a wounded animal, but you were already worse than spooked, you were angry. And no physical wound could hurt more than the distrust you were feeling right now.

“I guess I’ll start with what you already know. You know Bucky and I work with and own a lot of businesses. And you know that Bee’s farm is one of the ones we’re working with, and Bee’s been facing a lot of pressure from Cole lately to sell the farm.”

You nodded along, chugging down your beer and slamming it on the coffee table next to you, ditching the second bottle in favor of something stronger. You walked back over to the bar, not sparing Steve a glance, as you pulled the rolling ladder over to grab the bottle of Macallan off the shelf. You didn’t care what year it was. You just knew it was expensive, and he owed you at least this much after lying.

You stepped back down, deciding to forego a glass, and walked to your seat again, finally looking into his eyes. “Okay, now tell me what I don’t know.”

He hated how hard your eyes had become. How they’d grown dull already where they used to have a sparkle when they reflected his face. “The businesses that Bucky and I run… not all of them are legal. A few of them run outside the law, and at first, it was just because that’s how we were brought up, but we realized that we could change things, so we did.”

You took a swig from the bottle. You did not like where this was going. Steve fidgeted with the pool cue still standing in his hands.

“We were raised in a certain way, to be cutthroat, and unrelenting, and aggressive. Ready to serve our superiors, because that’s what we had to do to survive. To provide for our struggling families. And we were good at it. We were good at following orders, and playing the system, so it put us in leadership at a pretty young age. It seemed like the right thing, especially once both our parents were gone. But as time went on, we saw how damaging what we did could be, and wanted to fix it. Except there were some people who didn’t feel the same way. Some people who were simply power and money hungry and didn’t care who they were hurting. In specific, this one guy named Lloyd.”

You kept nodding along, getting slightly dizzy from the straight alcohol hitting you, and not expecting the lore to go this deep. You thought it could’ve been something more minor. Maybe Steve was in the witness protection program or something, because that could’ve been better than this trip of an explanation.

“Lloyd was a friend of ours, along with his sister. And Bucky was especially close with her. But they both left to go off to college, and we were really proud of them, but when they came back, they were different. Aggressive, uncaring for quality of goods, money hungry. Lillian, Lloyd’s sister became a huge lawyer, used to do his dirty business bidding, and Lloyd tried to start from the ground up, stepping on the territory Bucky and I fixed and taking advantage of people already in terrible positions. We don’t do what he does. We regulate things so people like him don’t take over. And we collected a lot of allies and truly good businesses along the way to help out with keeping the other side under wraps.”

You rolled your eyes waving your hand signaling that he was going on and on and on. “Okay, so you’re a criminal. What does this have to do with my best friend’s farm? And why I’m here right now, evidently practicing pool like my life depends on it?”

He rubbed a hand down his face, looking past you, over your shoulder, and out the window at the far end of the room. “Our business with Bee isn’t on the legal side. It’s on the other one. And it wasn’t until a few weeks in or so that we saw Lloyd was connected with Cole. So we were getting harassed from both ends. From Lloyd on our end, and Cole on hers. I assume she hasn’t been telling you this, but Cole’s been on her ass since Bucky left, and Lloyd has been on ours for months. Bee made a bet to end it for once and for all. A single game of pool. Winner takes all. Friends and family only, no pros, and she wants you to play for her side. She hasn’t been picking up your calls because I told her not to. I wanted the chance to lay this all out on the table for you. So you’d hear it from me. I know you’re a woman of the law, and I work outside it a lot, so I understand if you’re upset about that.”

You clenched your jaw, and if you did it any harder, your teeth might’ve broken. Your breaths were heaving out of flared nostrils. You took another sip, trying to find the proper way to reply to all of this, but your brain was too fuzzed for that. And it’s not like you would’ve wanted to do the right thing even if you were thinking clearly. Yelling seemed like a good option right now.

“Are you fucking kidding me!? She bet the farm on this game!? And you’re what? A crime lord!? But that’s not even what I’m the most mad about. You lied to me Steve. I trusted you and I gave you my time and I let you in easily to see things no one else does, and you lied.”

You tried to stand up, but were becoming too dizzy to do so. You were humbled, only briefly, so you asked another, softer question. “So what really is even your job then? Who are you and Bucky exactly?”

Steve put his pool cue back. “Bucky’s the boss.”

“And you?”

“Second in command.”

“And what’s Sam?”

“Number three.”

You nodded, yelling to Sam who you could still see standing on the staircase, listening to the whole thing.

“Hey! Number three! Can you bring me more fries from over there?”

Sam looked between you and Steve and Steve nodded, a solemn look on his face, letting Sam run over to the bar, and bring you the rest of the basket of fries. Once you’d had your fill, and the carbs soaked up some of the alcohol, you stood up, staring Steve down.

“Okay, fine. Since everyone thought they were best to make decisions regarding my own life, and make stupid ones in theirs without consulting me, I’ll give. You want me to practice more pool? I’ll practice. Rack ‘em.”

Steve wanted to tell you this wasn’t necessary. That he’d made a mistake. That you’ve proven yourself enough and that he was sorry, but his mouth was paralyzed. He believed that the best thing right now was just to give into whatever you needed to stay sane.

You broke the balls with more force than necessary, already getting a striped ball in a pocket, then kept making shots, not missing a single one. You called the eight ball to the far corner pocket before sinking it easily, even drunk off your ass.

“There. Happy? I won’t screw this up. So you can see I’ll do my best to make sure our friend keeps her farm and you get your little business deals to stay protected. I’ll see you on Saturday, tell Gio I’ll be waiting for him outside my apartment, and then hopefully, after I do my job, you and I won’t need to see each other… never again.”

Steve stood with his eyes focusing on you, yet he was zoned out. He should’ve told you sooner. He should’ve seen this all coming from waiting too long. What was worse than you finding out? You getting hurt. And he did that. He hurt you. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to you because your guard was down because you didn’t know your true proximity to everything, but now that you did, he could see a thousand ways that it would’ve all gone smoother if he would’ve just been honest from the beginning.

You stormed across the basement, back towards where Sam was, and tossed him your keys. “You’re driving me home, Three.”

He followed you out the door, and you didn’t even care that you left your work clothes, and Steve, behind.

Sam drove you home like a chauffeur, after you insisted on getting on the back seat so you could lay down. Now was as good of a time as ever to try calling Bee again, and this time, she finally picked up.

“Hey, Decks. How did your date with Steve go? He told me you were coming over tonight.” Even in your state, you could sense the caution in her tone.

“It was fucking awful, but I think you know that. I can’t believe you lied to me, too. Some guy I just met is one thing, but my best friend is another. And on top of that, I can’t believe you were stupid enough to make this big of a bet and put it on my shoulders.”

She simply hummed. She could probably tell you were drunk, she was one of the few to have seen it this bad before. She sighed before giving her response. “You know me. And you know I wouldn’t have made this sort of a deal if it wasn’t necessary. If I wasn’t desperate. But I’m not worried.”

She was silent for a second, but you let her be. She was gathering the right thing to say, and anything you wanted to throw in that free space would’ve made things worse.

“Decks, no one I know is better than you. When it comes to you as a person and you playing pool. And plus, it’s not like he can bring a pro or even semi-pro to come beat you. You’ve got this in the bag, knock on wood, and I hoped you would understand. The bet and the business.”

You sighed. You wanted to be snarky and mean, but she was just so logical, and you knew how grounded she was with that heart of gold and shit. She was the one who always shared reason with you. But it still didn’t excuse how reckless this all felt.

“Bee, using this skill to swindle people out of a couple bucks hardly counts as being good enough to save your legacy. That farm is your life. I have no quantification of the probability of my win, but I’ll do my best, I guess. I’m getting really tired, now, so I’m gonna let you go, and you and I can talk about your poor taste in men and this little lying streak of yours later.”

And with that, you hung up the phone and the world went black.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Another vine reference: Did you guys [read] that? I’m really scared.

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13

[moss-lovingtransmasc]

Hello everyone!!

I'm writing a cherik fanfic and posting my work for the first time somewhere - when I finish it I'll put it on ao3, but for now I'll post sections of it here! Advice, comments, etc. are very much appreciated! (Also my writing style might change between sections/ chapters bc I'm still learning what my style is, just a heads up. :)

(modern AU, college/uni AU, no powers, alternate meeting)

-Monday-

Charles woke up to the sound of his phone beeping. 

The morning sun and late summer air spread through his room from his open window. 

Bird calls echoed from the tree outside.

Groggily, he reached over to his nightstand to turn off the alarm. 

7:30 AM

It was the beginning of his fourth year at Queen Mary University, and by the end of this year he was going to get his Bachelor’s degree in Biology. He checks his university app to look at what his new schedule is. He had Cellular Biology and Calculus III today. Then, he checked his reminders for the day. 

-Do laundry on Tuesday

-Finish graduation project for bio - due second semester

-Fill in empty class period for first semester (ASAP)

-Get groceries

-Pick up anxiety meds for Hank from pharmacy (Wednesday)

Fuck. He forgot to talk with his counselor about that free space in his schedule. 

--

In the middle of his second period, Charles checks his schedule again- and finds he doesn’t have enough time after his last class to talk to Ms. Frost. So when his second class ended, Charles spedwalk to his counselor’s office. 

Ms. Frost’s office was at the end of the hall in the East Wing. He always had a feeling that she didn’t like him very much. Or anyone for that matter. Every time he saw her, she always seemed cold, and occasionally just outright rude to students. Like she was always tired of them. Why the hell did she become a college counselor?

Arriving at Ms. Frost’s office, two faint voices inside got his attention. 

“You can go fuck off for all I care”

“What- What did you just say to me?!”

“You heard me Summers - now get out…Please.”

“Alright I’ll fuck off then…” Scott replied under his breath as Charles heard footsteps towards the door. 

The door swung open, and he caught a glimpse of a pissed off guy leaving the office. His face had looked slightly familiar, and Charles vaguely remembered seeing him pass in the halls on the way to some of his classes.

Grabbing the door knob and stepping inside, Charles saw Ms. Frost at her desk, looking down at some student files.

“Hello! Uh, I’m here about an additional class credit I need for graduation.”

“Okay. Sit down” She replied curtly, opening her laptop and clacking on the keyboard. 

He took the single office chair across from her desk and sat down. A beat of silence passed as Ms. Frost got the student registry up. Charles looked around her office in the meantime. 

It wasn't very cluttered like some other school staff’s offices were. She did have a few decorations and knick-knacks scattered around. Silver little objects on her bookshelves, posh-looking white and diamond decorations on the walls, the light blue picture frames that held her degrees and documents that she was required to hang up. Now that he’s thinking about it, her name really matches up with her room. 

“Name, year and major?”

His head snapped up as he heard Ms. Frost’s voice.

“Charles Francis Xavier - 4th year Genetics Major”

She gave him a look that probably silently judged why he said his middle name. He wasn't quite sure why he did either. As far as he knew of, there wasn't another Xavier in the Science department.

“Lets see…You need one credit left of a creative class, since you've taken almost all of the possible science classes here…”

Oh God no. Charles had never had an interest in drawing, painting, or any other art form, and to be honest, he was never good at it anyways. “Please don't make me take a class with painting or something - I'm terrible at it.”

 “Alright- Well, there is a metalworking class- which happens to be the only class that fits your preferences and your schedule, so I’d recommend that.” 

When did the university have a metalworking class? Sounded interesting enough…

“Uh- sure. I’ll take that. Thank you”

“Okay, I'll sign you up for it then. The next class is tomorrow.” 

“Alright Thank you Ms. Frost!” 

“Bye.” Charles heard her say - in a slightly annoyed tone - as he opened the door to leave. 

That went surprisingly well.

He really shouldn’t have put it off until the first day though…

-Tuesday-

It occurred to him that his new metalworking class might not be that great, or that popular at the very least if they had late scheduling available.  

Oh well - he just needed to graduate and then he could explore genetics outside the restraints of school. First, he had his favorite class of the day: Study of Human Evolution III. He had taken the intro course his first year and loved every minute of it. 

He found it fascinating how thousands of millions of years on Earth had changed tiny single-celled organisms to the conscious and complex beings humans are today. Capable of thought, capable of studying themselves and building societies. Yet still so animal - having base human instincts ingrained into their genetic make up. 

After that class though, he had his first day of metalworking - in room 109B. 

He was not looking forward to this. 

--

As he walked down the art hallways, he eventually recognized the room number. 

Opening the door and peering inside, to his surprise, he found that the class was almost completely full. All except for one seat at a large workshop table in the back of the class. 

Charles stepped inside and walked over, hearing the bell ring seconds after. 

Oh shit he was almost late. 

Charles was almost never late, being the top student in most of his classes, he prided himself on being punctual. He just had some trouble navigating the art hallways, was all, never stepping foot in them before. He had to admit that it was a little embarrassing, studying here for the past three years…

He sat down on the stool, looking at the tall student next to him. He looked about his age, if not a little bit older looking. Not by much though.  

“Hello! I’m Charles.” Introducing himself and offering a smile.

… 

The guy next to him didn't say anything, just smiled politely at him. 

Charles just assumed didn’t like much conversation. 

The professor started introducing himself and his students to the class, mentioning something about the syllabus. Charles normally would have paid more attention if it was any other class, and if it was any other person next to him. 

Charles didn’t normally stare at people this much, even people who he was attracted to, but for some reason he couldn’t stop looking at the guy next to him. As secretly as he could of course, looking at him through the corner of his left eye while facing the front of the class. He knew his face from some of his classes last year, and his Cellular Biology class yesterday. He was usually too interested in the subject matter to talk with anyone, and this guy was quiet and always sitting in the back. 

Besides that, he was just a very handsome man. His strong facial structure, his slightly stern eyebrows. His black turtleneck sweater complimented his neck and captured his figure so well.

“Erik Eisenhardt?” 

“Here.”

Erik then. That was his name. 

Charles listened to the rest of the roll call but didn't hear his name. The roster might not have been updated yet. He made a mental note to talk to the professor at the end of class. 

They first learned about basic safety measures of metalworking, like the protective equipment, hazards, and mentioned a safety contract. He also introduced the class to the tools they had at the stations, what they were going to be using most often, along with techniques like cutting and welding. 

“And remember, metalworking can be a very useful skill to know for trade jobs, but it can also be an art form. And since you all aren't in trade school, I’m going to assume you all joined for the art aspect of it, which is what we’ll be focusing on anyways.” 

The professor stood up and handed out the contracts to each table. 

“Here’s the safety contract I need you all to sign if you still wish to continue. I’ll need it by next class, so I’ll give you all some time to read it today. And please don’t be shy -  feel free to ask any questions.”

As he got to Charles’ table, he realized that he didn’t hear the professor’s name. There was a chalkboard at the front, but it was blank. 

“Hey - Erik was it? Did you catch the professor’s name?”

“Professor Azazel I think.”

“Thank you”

They didn't talk to each other for the rest of class. 

--

As the period came to an end, Charles went up to the front of the room to talk to Prof. Azazel. 

“Hello Professor! I believe that my name isn’t on the list yet? I registered for this class yesterday, but I just wanted to let you know that I was present today.”

“Okay, I’ll mark you down. Next time though, tell me during roll call.”

“Will do! Have a good rest of your day.” 

As Charles went back to grab his laptop bag, he saw that Erik left a small spiral notebook. Picking it up, he decided to return it in his Cellular Bio class tomorrow.

[ternfic]

Penance

Chapter One: Cellophane

Sirius slowly opened his eyes as his alarm went off, heaving a sigh as he sat up and stretched before rubbing his hands over his face with a displeased groan. It had been so long since he last had that dream- not since he found the Kragle, at least. “God, I must really be lonely if I’m dreaming about them again,” he grumbled to himself as he forced himself out of his cozy bed. It was getting harder to do, anymore. He shuffled through his morning routine, just going through the motions at this point.

The original Octan Tower had finally been torn down, and it was a massive relief to no longer see it looming in the distance. Part of it had been reused to build the new ‘Tower’ in Bricksburg, though Tower was something of a misnomer as it wasn’t much taller than any of the other buildings in the city. He’d been living there for a month now, in his penthouse at the top. He thought it would feel like home, moving back in, but… The place was just so empty. It barely even looked lived in, his robot butler Edwin did such a fantastic job of keeping up the place. Benny’s apartment had been almost impeccably neat too, but at least it had the feeling of someone residing there, with all his odd little knick-knacks, and throw blanket that never could seem to stay folded.

Benny’s apartment also had the added bonus of another human being. He felt so isolated now. His friends that had remained in Bricksburg had done a pretty good job of meeting up with him on a regular basis at first, but with their jobs picking up and their relationships getting more serious, he’d become more of an afterthought. Forgotten, left by the wayside. Just generally unimportant to anyone. He hadn’t seen Benny since he moved into the new Tower; he hadn’t seen the others for even longer. The only reason the Cops even still came to see him was because they worked for him.

He paused in the doorway of his closet, running his collection of ties through his fingers. Red, red, red, more red. He debated taking the day off; he really just wasn’t feeling it today, but he knew he’d have nothing to do but stew over how miserable he was, otherwise. Not like his friends could just drop everything to keep him company. So he forced himself to get dressed and made his way down to his office.

He was greeted by Velma the moment he stepped out of the elevator. She immediately began to rattle off the reports for the day, though he barely listened. It was nothing new. Octan’s profits were slowly rebuilding after the devastating hit they took over the summer, and Bricksburg’s trust in him was slowly coming back. Emmet had helped, of course, but he liked to think it had more to do with him restoring order in the city after the Master Builders’ disastrous attempts at reintegrating.

Sirius took the offered newspaper and mail and all but locked himself in his office, glad to be away from her- from all the robots still working under him, really. How had he never found their constant marching so disturbing before? He really needed to do some overhauls. Or hire some actual people.

Good Cop sighed to himself, mind wandering as they sat in their car for a short coffee break. It felt like their group was drifting apart. He was certain it had been nearly a month since they had their usual Tuesday coffee gathering, and he couldn’t remember the last time they had seen Metalbeard or Unikitty. Unikitty’s silence was especially perplexing- sure, they knew she was busy still rebuilding Cloud Cuckooland, but she always made time for her friends. So what was keeping her? It was starting to feel like their responsibilities were taking over their lives, and he was especially worried about Sirius- when was the last time anyone other than them had checked on him?

We should go see him on our lunch break, Bad Cop said, breaking him out of his musings. See what he’s up to. I’m worried about him too, he seems more withdrawn every time we see him. I don’t think he’s doing so well.

“Not since he moved into the new Tower,” Good Cop murmured in agreement. “This has just been a miserable month for everyone, I think…”

The Tower was quiet when they stopped by that afternoon. According to Velma, Sirius hadn’t been out of his office all day. Good Cop was thoughtfully silent as Bad Cop headed up to the office. He knocked only to announce their presence before opening the door and letting himself in. Sirius glanced up with a startled frown. “Rude.”

“I knocked first.” Bad Cop frowned back; the President seemed more morose than usual. “You’re not looking so well. What’s going on?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Thanks for that. Just had a weird dream last night, that’s all. It’s nothing.”

Good Cop switched out at that, giving him a look. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘nothing’ if Cary’s taking notice of how much it’s affecting you.”

Hey!

“Alastar, I’m fine-” He leaned back in his chair as the cop stepped closer.

“Nope, you’re coming out with us for lunch. You could do with some sunshine and fresh air-”

“Excuse-me-sir?” Velma interrupted. Good Cop froze as he was reaching to grab Sirius’ arm and pull him to his feet, both men turning to give her their attention. She held out a large yellow envelop. Sirius shoved Good Cop away, giving the envelop a puzzled stare.

“When did that get here?”

“Just-a-few-minutes-ago-sir.” He scrambled out of his chair to retrieve it before Good Cop could, earning a snicker from his friend, and tore it open.

“What is it?” the cop asked, peering over his shoulder.

“It’s… an invitation??” His eyes went wide. “I’ve never received an invitation to anything before…”

“But what’s it for?” Good Cop pressed.

Sirius took a moment to read it over. “It looks like a new realm has been established, and the Governor is inviting the leaders of all the other realms to come celebrate its creation, and to get to know everyone.” He grinned, starting to bounce, and grabbed Good Cop’s arm, dragging him back to the computer to get a view of it from the satellite.

“It’s… in the Forest of Obsolete Products?” Sirius made a face at that. “But hey, anyone willing and able to tame that hell-realm is okay in my book.”

I’m- I’m aCtually nOt sure abouT this, guys, Keelan murmured. Something about iT… doesn’t fEel right…

It does seem suspicious, Bad Cop agreed, and switched back out, plucking the paper from Sirius’ hands to look it over himself. The President frowned at him, but let him do his thing.

That’s just because you’re paranoid, Good Cop teased.

Bad Cop scanned the text very carefully. It seemed it was to be a new city-realm, much like Bricksburg but not as modern, and it was called Rookburn. “Interesting name,” he muttered. The date for the get-together was set for November first; just a week away. “Looks authentic enough,” he decided after a moment. “Are you planning on going, then?”

“I think so, yes,” Sirius answered. “I mean, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity- the last realm to be made was Cape Space, and that was like sixty years ago. Definitely an occasion to celebrate. Besides, it could be fun!”

“I’m still not so sure about this,” Bad Cop admitted. “Kee’s pretty convinced there’s something wrong about it.” Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. “…His intuition’s been pretty spot-on so far.”

“Well if you’re that worried about it, why don’t you just come along, make sure I’m protected or whatever?”

“Fine, we’ll come,” Bad Cop sighed.

“Great! I’ll get the RSVP sent then!”

They gathered at the Hole In The Wall Pizzeria (which they’d been amused to discover was its actual name, once the sign was restored) for supper that night, meeting Bruce and Dick there. Apparently the boy had something he wanted to give them all in person. It seemed all it took was the Power of the Pout to round everyone up again (though how the pair managed to get ahold of Metalbeard and Unikitty was beyond them).

“I’m having a Halloween party!” the boy announced, absolutely giddy as he handed out invitations.

“Oh,” Sirius gasped as one of the cards was shoved into his hands.

“That sounds like fun!” Emmet enthused, marveling at his own invite. “Ohmygosh Lucy look I actually got invited to a party!!” She smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Two invitations in one day,” Sirius murmured in something like wonder. Benny glanced over at him.

“What else did you get invited to?”

“It appears a new realm was recently formed,” Bad Cop answered for him. “Their governor extended an invitation to the leader of every realm they could make contact with, I guess just to meet everyone.”

Unikitty pouted. “I didn’t get an invite…”

“Cloud Cuckooland is still incommunicado,” Benny reminded her, and she pouted more.

Dick stared up at them with wide eyes. “So what does that mean?”

“It means we won’t be able to make it to your party,” Sirius told him, genuinely apologetic as Dick’s shoulders slumped. “We already told them we’d be there.”

“Why can’t you do both?” Lucy suggested.

“Because the meeting is on November first, and you Master Builders never built a shortcut to the Forest. We’ll be driving all day on Halloween to get there,” Bad Cop explained.

“Would it be possible to build a shortcut now?” Emmet asked.

“No,” Lucy sighed. “That was a feat we only managed under Vitruvius’ guidance, and he had to do… something to make it function like we wanted it to. Now that he’s gone…”

“Oh…”

Sirius glanced down at his shoes as Bruce pointedly raised an eyebrow at him. Lucy elbowed her ex sharply in the ribs, and Sirius startled to feel a massive hand press gently to his back.

“It be in the past now,” Metalbeard said in the most encouraging tone he could muster. “Vitruvius ain’t mad at ye. It be time for ye to let it go as well.”

“I know that, but it’s just… It’s hard. I never gave a single thought to the repercussions of my actions back then, and now that I see what I caused…”

“Yeah we miss him,” Unikitty soothed. “But because of ‘what you caused’, things are getting so much better now! Everybody’s learning and growing, even you, and that’s a good thing!” She rubbed up against his side, purring, and he gratefully ran his fingers through her fur. “But traveling on Halloween? I’m not so sure that’s a good idea- I’m getting the feeling something bad could happen...”

“Ugh, you too?” Sirius complained. “You and Keelan and your ‘bad feelings’, I swear. You think a bunch of spooks are gonna swoop down and kidnap us, or something? Stop worrying so much, we’ll be fine, I promise.” He crouched down to be eye level with Dick. “And I really am sorry we won’t make it to your party this year. I know you’re excited that it’s your first with your new family, but there’s always next year, right?”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[sizzleissues]

its a heist (1007 words)

Toxinelle and Griffe Noire

Chimneys pile high, sheets of thick smoke billowing out. It reaches the sky, touches the belly of the curtain of clouds that never seem to part and pries its way in. By one stack a dark bird peers down at the maze of narrow streets, tiny beady eyes searching for a glint of light or the quick movement of a rat. It bends to the point of taking off again when a gloved hand grabs it, pulling it back.

The bird struggles in Griffe Noire’s grasp, a strangled cry leaving its slim beak. Griffe Noire grins down at it, his smile bleeding white into the dusty evening.

Toxinelle looks on with her nose scrunched in disgust, averting her gaze as Griffe Noire bites down. 

“Do you really have to do that?”

Griffe Noire drops down off the chimney, tossing the beak aside, and shrugs. “Gotta practice.”

They make their way off the roof, into the patchwork streets. If the citizens of London are alarmed by their sudden appearance, they don’t say anything. Toxinelle takes the lead and Griffe follows, hands crossed behind his back and head up, looking curiously in every direction. His eyes dart to the people who are fancily dressed —adorned with pearls— quietly ushering their children out of their way. He bares his teeth and snarls, watching in delight as they scuttle away like bugs. 

He looks out for homes whose doors are a little cleaner than their neighbours, the plaster and brick better held together. Places with valuables most certainly inside. 

But that isn’t why he’s in stinking London of all places.

“Stick close. We’re keeping a low profile,” Toxinelle calls over her shoulder. Adrien quickens his saunter to a brisk walk, catching up to her side. Their hands intertwine as naturally as putting one foot in front of the other. 

“What’s the plan?” He asks. Then lower, close to her ear. “My lady.”

She shivers beside him, squeezing his hand. He smiles, proud of himself. Her eyes remain firmly fixed ahead as she recounts to him the plan.

It's not often she takes the lead role of things. The way their powers work, he does the damage and she figures out how to get them out of it. Now it's entirely up to her. He will be her tool if she pleases.

“They don’t know we’re coming but we’ve made ourselves rather obvious. We’ll need to blend in.”

“Do we have to though? Can’t I just cataclysm the wall and take it.”

Toxinelle sighs and then gently pats his chest, skipping ahead.

“That defeats the point. They can’t even know what they have is worth stealing.”

-

The shop is cramped; merchandise spilling off shelves, stacks of old outdated tech in unreachable corners while tables in front display a series of vaguely offensive badges and a rack of clothing thick with dust cloaking an entire wall. The room is narrow, with a small loop of space to walk through. Music bleeds out the edges of a few ancient radios, none powerful enough to cover the whole store so multiple play at slightly different times. 

There’s a teenage girl at the counter of the shop. Her dark hair flops over her face, limp with the years of damage done by dye. Her elbows rest on the counter, in the only spare space as the rest is covered by an assortment of oddities and knick-knacks that the owners obviously need to sell off. She uses one hand to prop up her head and the other to flick a toy windmill round and round and round. 

The girl lifts her head to the two global super villains walking through the door, before sinking back down again. Just another Tuesday.

Griffe Noire disappears into the back of the store to poke around the box of used VHS tapes while Toxinelle approaches the counter, her mouth curving into a shark-like smile.

“Hi!” She sticks her head out and startles the  girl. She stumbles back, knocking over a display of e-cigarettes. Toxinelle keels over with laughter, cackling as the girl regains her footing. The girl looks between the two of them, Griffe returning with his VHS tapes, finally realising just who they are. 

“You-.”

“Let's make this simple.” Griffe Noire interrupts, laying the tapes down, bar one. He grips it in his hand. “You let us take a few things, free of charge, and you get to keep your head.”

He crushes the tape and tosses it to the ground. The girl nods.

They fold so easily.

-

Dressed in blue shirts and black slacks, Adrien holds Marinette’s hand, quietly staring at the space between two statues. Behind them a child gasps at the giant stone statue, crying to his mother that it's holding up the sky. From the corner of his eye he watches Marinette glance up. Her jaw sets.

“Are you ready?” She asks.

“I am.”

“Good, it's time.”

They step into the space between and part, walking down opposite pathways. 

-

His hand plays with the lanyard, spinning around the id badge he just swiped off a dozing attendant. His path takes him up to a restricted area of the building, keeping his head low as employees move to go to lunch. 

Adrien slips into the control room and gets to work. Switch off cameras, set off alarms and clear all files and then erase all evidence he did anything. All they can think is someone tripped a fire alarm. Like Marinette said, they can't even know there was anything to steal.

He watches Marinette sneak into the store room from the security cam, reluctantly shutting down the system as planned when she reaches an impassable door. A tape pops out from where it was recording, beeping at him.

Next he places all of the days recordings into a bin, piling stacks of paper on top of them. He lights a match and drops it in.

The alarm wails and he stumbles out the control room, letting himself be swept up by the panicked crowd. People pay no attention to the pre-recorded voice calling them to proceed slowly as not to damage the displays, pushing and shoving to save their own necks.

Adrien laughs.

-

In the night there’s a glint of light at the bottom of an alley. The ground is damp and smells of urine and the churning of over worked heater systems rattles through the walls. Griffe Noire waits, his eyes stalking a rat in the dumpster. He’s interrupted just as he moves to pounce.

Toxinelle walks in, a bag over her shoulder. She pats it, with a gorgeous twisted grin on her face.

“Got it.”

She removes the box from the bag, blowing off the dust. Its made of a wood older than most nations that should have degraded. Its by a miracle it hasn't. Its decorated with gold leafing, intricate concentric circles crossing and looping together. Griffe Noire takes it with shaking hands.

“The lost miracle box.”

“It's ours.”

-

This was me practicing atmosphere and description. Trying to something I guess - let me know if its doing the correct emotions because we could have just circled around to boring XD

It fascinates me to no end that there are multiple miracle boxes of miraculous. Not just our Chinese one and the American one. This is the Hibernian miracle box.

Oh and they were robbing the British museum

ehhehehehehehe

IDK LET MY HAVE THIS

[robinsnest2111]

maybe... just maybe... I did too many things over the past week... and this is my body's way of retaliation for what i put it through... just a thought.

thursday: 9 hour shift on my feet without a break, getting home around 10.30pm + cooking dinner

friday: 3 hours of errands and grocery shopping

saturday: cleaning half the house (bathroom, hallways, stairs, my room)

sunday: bike trip to the outdoor antique/fleamarket in the morning, movie night with a friend in the evening

monday: biking through the entire town in search of an affordable shoe rack and other things

tuesday: 5-6 hour train + tram + bus journey to get a shoe rack from IKEA a few towns over, carrying the two 11lbs boxes and other knick knacks all the way to and from the train stations and walking my bike back home

wednesday (today): meeting up with my aunt to go shopping in the city, visit my grandma at the care facility, café visit afterwards

all while dealing with stomach cramps, nausea and dizziness of hell for no particular reason

and another 9 hour shift tomorrow...

[whatsonmedia]

March Match Madness Continues: Top Sports This Weekend!

Get ready for another action-packed weekend of sports! From thrilling cricket clashes to nail-biting football cup finals and high-flying NBA battles, there's something for every sports fanatic. Mark your calendars and gear up for these must-watch matchups happening between March 15th and 18th: Cricket: Sri Lanka in Bangladesh - ODI Series Heats Up: The three-match ODI series between Sri Lanka and Bangladesh concludes with matches in Chattogram. Can Bangladesh secure a series win? >Sri Lanka vs Bangladesh (2nd ODI)০ Date : Friday, 15 March 2024০ Time : 14:30০ Venue : Zahur Ahmed Chowdhury Stadium, Chattogram>Sri Lanka vs Bangladesh (3rd ODI)০ Date : Monday, 18 March 2024০ Time : 10:00০ Venue : Zahur Ahmed Chowdhury Stadium, Chattogram. Afghanistan vs Ireland - T20 Tussle in the UAE: Witness three exciting T20 matches as Afghanistan and Ireland lock horns in Sharjah. >Afghanistan vs Ireland (1st T20)০ Date : Friday, 15 March 2024০ Time : 22:30০ Venue : Sharjah Cricket Stadium, Sharjah>Afghanistan vs Ireland (2nd T20)০ Date : Sunday, 17 March 2024০ Time : 22:00০ Venue : Sharjah Cricket Stadium, Sharjah>Afghanistan vs Ireland (3rd T20)০ Date : Monday, 18 March 2024০ Time : 22:00০ Venue : Sharjah Cricket Stadium, Sharjah Football: FA Cup Finals - Who Will Be Crowned Champion? The prestigious FA Cup culminates with blockbuster clashes! Witness Liverpool take on Manchester United at Old Trafford, and Newcastle challenge Manchester City at the Etihad Stadium. Don't miss Chelsea's battle against Leicester at Stamford Bridge! >Juventus vs Genoa০ Date : Sunday, 17 March 2024০ Time : 11:30 GMT০ Venue : Allianz Stadium>AC Milan vs Verona০ Date : Sunday, 17 March 2024০ Time : 17:00 GMT০ Venue : Marcantonio Bentegodi La Liga Showdown: The race for the La Liga title heats up as Barcelona takes on Atletico Madrid, while Real Madrid aims to maintain their lead against Osasuna. >Liverpool vs Man Utd০ Date : Saturday, 16 March 2024০ Time : 15:30 GMT০ Venue : Old Trafford>Newcastle vs Man City০ Date : Saturday, 16 March 2024০ Time : 17:30 GMT০ Venue : Etihad Stadium>Chelsea vs Leicester০ Date : Sunday, 17 March 2024০ Time : 12:45 GMT০ Venue : Stamford Bridge Serie A Battles: Witness Italian giants in action as Juventus hosts Genoa and AC Milan faces Verona. >Barcelona vs Atletico ০ Date : Sunday, 17 March 2024০ Time : 20:00 GMT০ Venue : Civitas Metropolitan Stadium, Madrid >Real Madrid vs Osasuna০ Date : Saturday, 16 March 2024০ Time : 15:15 GMT০ Venue :  El Sadar International Friendlies: European Teams Prepare for Qualifiers: Get a glimpse of international football as Portugal faces Sweden and Russia battles Serbia in preparation for upcoming qualifiers. >Portugal vs Sweden০ Date : Thursday, 22 March 2024০ Time : 19:45 GMT০ Venue : Estádio Dom Afonso Henriques>Russia vs Serbia০ Date : Thursday, 22 March 2024০ Time : 17:00 GMT০ Venue : VTB Arena Basketball: NBA Regular Season Heats Up: Witness exciting matchups across the league. Catch the Heat take on the Pistons, the Kings battle the Knicks, and revisit the Suns vs Hornets clash. >Heat vs pistons ০ Date : Saturday, 16 March 2024০ Time: 05:00 AM০ Venue : Little Caesars Arena>Suns vs Hornets০ Date : Tuesday, 12 March 2024০ Time : 5:00 AM০ Venue : Spectrum Center>Kings vs Knicks০ Date :Sunday, 17 March 2024০ Time : 08:00 AM০ Venue : Golden 1 Center This is just a glimpse into the exciting world of sports this weekend! Explore local events, other leagues, and upcoming tournaments to fuel your sporting spirit. #MarchMatchMadness #WeekendSports #CricketFever #FootballFrenzy #BasketballBuzzerBeaters Read the full article

[college-girl199328]

Joel Embiid should be far past the point of feeling like he has anything to prove during the regular season. Embiid is one of the very best players in the NBA, a title he’s earned by finishing top-two in MVP voting each of the last three seasons. Embiid finally won MVP last year, but the award didn’t bring him the validation he desired: his main peer, Nikola Jokic, won his first championship, while Embiid’s Philadelphia 76ers were again eliminated in the second round of the playoffs.

There was an easy lesson to learn from Jokic’s title run: he essentially bowed out of the MVP race last season by taking it easy in the second half of the year to make sure he was fresh for the playoffs. The Sixers could have tried to follow the same path this year with Embiid, yet the chase for another MVP award feels like it played a prominent role in the superstar big man going down with a scary injury on Tuesday night. There’s one notable difference in the NBA MVP race this season: the league’s new Collective Bargaining Agreement put in a 65-game minimum for all end-of-season awards. Coming into Tuesday night’s game against the Golden State Warriors, Embiid could only miss five more games all season and still win the award. Embiid was considered a sizable front-runner to win his second MVP this season as long as he played enough games.

Embiid was listed as questionable going into the Warriors game with knee soreness. He had originally tweaked his knee on Jan. 25 against the Pacers, yet stayed in the game. Embiid then missed his nationally televised matchup with Jokic in Denver — where Embiid hasn’t played since 2019 — as the national media moaned about the Philly star “ducking” the matchup. The Sixers lost to the Nuggets, then lost again to the lowly Portland Trail Blazers two nights later as Embiid sat out again. The Sixers already knew they were going to be without Tyrese Maxey, De’Anthony Melton, Nicolas Batum, and Robert Covington against the Warriors. With the New York Knicks on their heels for the No. 3 seed in the East, Embiid gave it a go after warming up against Golden State. It was clear from the start that he was playing hurt.

The Warriors beat the Sixers, 119-107, for Philly’s fourth straight loss. The bigger news is that Embiid went down with a knee injury in the fourth quarter. All of Philadelphia is anxiously waiting for the next update about his health.

Embiid was clearly hobbled well before he was knocked out of the game. He wasn’t able to generate any lift off the ball, settling for mid-range jumpers most of the night on one of his least efficient scoring performances of the year. At one point, Embiid fell to the ground just trying to contest a shot. As the Warriors held a double-digit lead for most of the second half, it would have been easy to rest Embiid and waive the white flag. Instead, head coach Nick Nurse kept Embiid in the game, and the injury eventually occurred.

All of this was totally unnecessary: it should have been obvious Embiid needed to rest after going through warmups. Instead, the desire to play enough games to meet the criteria for MVP, as well as media pressure applied in the wake of his decision to sit out against Denver, led to Embiid playing hurt in a mostly meaningless regular season game. Now, the Sixers have nothing to do but hang on the MRI.

Embiid was most likely pushed to play vs. the Warriors. It’s the 76ers’ job to tell him no. By failing to take the long view, Embiid may have permanently ended his MVP chances this year, and more importantly, made it more difficult for him to truly be healthy for the playoffs. Embiid should have taken more precautions himself, too. Embiid had a streak of 30-point, 10-rebound performances that hit 22 games during the loss to Indiana. Some believe Embiid re-entered that game to keep the streak alive when was clearly hurt early in the night.

The NBA should feel some heat, too. The league put in the 65-game minimum for MVP because it wants its stars to play to sold-out crowds every night, especially when those games are on national TV. The downside of pushing hard in the regular season comes with risking the ability to be fresh for the playoffs. Would Embiid have played vs. the Warriors without the 65-game MVP minimum this year? We’ll never know, but it does feel like it played a role in his decision to give it a go especially after the discourse coming out of the Denver game. All of this is incredibly stupid. Embiid is one of the best players of his generation — right up there with Jokic and Giannis Antetokounmpo. Jokic and Giannis each have an NBA championship to their name. Embiid does not. That should be the priority above anything else.

After the loss to Golden State, the Sixers are now suddenly the No. 5 seed in the East if the season ended today. That makes their path to a championship so much tougher because it means a potential second-round meeting with the Boston Celtics. Who knows how far Philly will drop if Embiid misses a big stretch of games because of this injury. The Sixers should have learned that another MVP won’t bring Embiid peace — only a ring will. This was handled poorly from every possible side.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

I don't know what I thought a hospice is.

Sure I know what hospice is... I just don't know what one looks like. I figured it wasn't a regular hospital so maybe it was something like a long two- or three-story building where everything's super peaceful.

Yeah.

I know nothing.

So when we first arrive at the hospice where Kimmer's aunt Jacquie's running out the clock, yeah.

The home was a pleasant surprise.

Spanish style. Elegant. With a courtyard and a spacious floor plan once you step inside.

A lot of natural light in there, too.

Calm.

The knick-knacks in the courtyard, by the way, specifically remind me of Jacquie's home because she too has an eye for such things.

Now, this private residence is part of a large city but the neighborhood itself reminds us of little town Yakima at its best once upon a time.

That's us romanticizing, I'm sure, but the neighborhood does have a legitimate small-town vibe. The single-family wood construction homes are all just-so, properly maintained.

The larger homes with gardens look like proper B&Bs.

And since the sun was setting at the time we thought about Jacquie's hometown of Yakima, well... yeah. We romanticized this neighborhood a bit.

We're living this experience because Jacquie fell at her memory care home the day after Kimmer 'n I returned from our wedding anniversary vacation celebration at the Universal Resort in Orlando in September.

One day we're back and Kimmer's almost on a plane again Tuesday morning.

At the time, Jacquie seems sore but okay. By Wednesday, though, further examination reveals a fractured hip that requires surgery so Kimmer's on a late afternoon flight Thursday... the surgery happens Saturday, I believe, and it turns out a fractured hip's just the tip of the iceberg.

The last nine months of Jacquie's life are now officially over.

Kimmer drives out to Jacquie's old memory care home to inform admin and staff and collect Jacquie's possessions.

Some of those possessions Kimmer donated away. She did, though, add a toy mermaid to Jacquie's plush collection. The staff added a coupla large grey stuffed elephants. And a dear friend of the family gave Jacquie a little Frankenstein that says Happy Halloween when you push its button.

For all that thoroughly cute plushness, it's a bittersweet experience to close this chapter of Jacquie's life. One of Jacquie's caregivers sat down and cried when Kimmer gave her the news that Jacquie was being transferred to hospice care.

"She was my girl" the caregiver lamented.

So we're at Jacquie's hospice. This is the first of two visits for me in as many days before I leave. I'm here from around noon, Wednesday, gone again Friday morning by noon. Kimmer 'n I are here with Jacquie's son and grandson. It's a legitimate family gathering complete with crosstalk and laughter.

Now, during the week after her hip surgery, Jacquie surprised everyone with more cognitive function than before she went into surgery. She once again understood the concept of "yesterday". She remembered Kimmer's name.

Today, though, isn't that day. Today her eyes are closed much of the time and our communication is based largely on touch.

There are moments, though. Like the ones I wrote about yesterday although there are others I didn't share just then like when Kimmer reminded Jacquie

"You're our people!"

To which Jacquie replied with only a touch of a slur

"That's right."

☺️

The minutes pass and we arrive at another moment where Jacquie's eyes are closed but Kimmer's reminding her

"There was some good stuff. There was some bad stuff. You had a lot of wonderful friends. You had wild times. A faithful son. You had a good life."

I think about those words in the moments that follow. Mostly because it's a kind of whispered summation. A preview of a eulogy that will manifest in the weeks to come.

This stuff does make you think not only about the coming loss but about your own life and what kind of memories you leave behind. What kind of impression on this world you made. The complexity of it all.

Really, there's no helping it. The thoughts arrive on their own.

Eventually, this first visit of mine comes to a close. Visiting time's over and the moment's come to let this experience go.

So we put the chairs back, raise the guard rails on either side of Jacquie's bed, and bid her farewell with a light

"Sweet dreams..."

To which Jacquie, eyes closed but still somehow aware, says this to us:

"Love you."

[arun-pratap-singh]

Record-chasing LeBron sparks Lakers past Knicks in OT – Tempo – The Nation's Fastest Growing Newspaper

NEW YORK (AFP) – LeBron James scored a 28-point triple-double as the Los Angeles Lakers dug deep to score a 129-123 overtime win against the New York Knicks on Tuesday. James is now just 89 points away from surpassing Kareem Abdul-Jabbar as the NBA’s all-time leading points scorer after another superb performance in his 20th season. The 38-year-old passed two more milestones on Tuesday as he…

[shamelesshussythoughts]

Nothing much

Really, I don't have anything to complain about today. So a few facts for you.

It's Friday, which is awesome.

Sunday starts my birthday week. Birthday falls on a Tuesday this year which sucks. I had to take off when my back decided to revolt against me so I'm not taking the day before off now. Dinner at Blossom on Sunday, then Target for some organizational home stuff. Tuesday I'm off and going out with TP and picking up my birthday wine (hopefully a new variety, but definitely a new label, might add to the Machete collection), which I am very excited and nervous about because I love TP but I am also somewhat intimidated by the fact that she is just her and I feel like she should be hanging out with exciting people doing exciting things in exciting places. ANYWAY. Dinner at home and a movie of my choice that night, maybe Terrifier 2? Saturday the in-laws come down for a birthday lunch, fortunately they recently discovered they like Mediterranean food, so we're taking them Cafe Rakka. Sunday brunch somewhere and a trip to the flea market, maybe I'll see my uncle if he's there and get another cool knick-knack thing from him, hopefully his new wife is there too so I can congratulate them both in person. Then by Monday I'm not special anymore and it's back to being a nothing special person.

Should I wax poetic and spend up more time? Not now. Maybe later.

[lesbiancolumbo]

[clive-owen-and-the-knick]

Even MORE Amazing KNICK Artwork!

Daniel Hyun Lim

https://www.artstation.com/artwork/yb0BOR

[m4nd0l0r]

Tea Time with Princess K!

Description: You guess, when you marry a cluster of chaotic men, you definitely didn’t expect to see a floating crown in your daughter’s room.

Ships: Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Jake Lockley x Reader

Category: Crack. Literal Crack.

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s note: the idea for this fic came from @just-call-me-non !! sorry if it took a while i was procrastinating in most of my pending wips so uh 😭 i hope you like it!!

Cooped up on the plastic chair like some sort of squished knick-knack, he smolders.

“Want some tea, fellow princess?” She giggled out. The only reply she got from him was her table wriggling and her having to catch her prized teapot as the props shook from his silent anger. “That’s not nice Princess K! Royalty don’t sulk!!”

Princess K? This was literal treason. This was definitely part of the many reasons he wishes this child could not see him at all. 

“It is not Princess K, child. It is Khonshu.”

“Kown-shoe.”

This child was already a lost cause. He was sure of it, he was also sure of is that he was already tired of this game.

He was the god of the night sky, bringer of vengeance and real justice. He should not be idling down with the idiots’ child and entertain whatever ploy this girl wants. 

“Little one.” He seethed, “I am no princess who drinks non-existent tea-“ His beak points to the empty teacup. “I bring out vengeance to evil-doers- not entertainment for bored children, and if you tell me one more to—“ 

But he was cut off by her once more, “Vengy-wengy, whatever that means! Today you’re with me! You even gotta wear my exclusive tiara Papa got me! It’s pretty too!!”

“Then take it child, I am not interested in childish matters.” 

“But you can’t just walk away!”

“I can. I am a god.”

“Pssh—! You are a princess!” She urged, “And I even invited you to have this special tea the kind fairies got us!”

“Again, child. The cup is empty.”

Ignoring him again, he hears her say. “Oh I forgot to have you wear these!” Her hands rummage through her chest of lovely things. He was already dreading it, that was where she stored this god forsaken crown that is very much unfit for royalty. Where were the jewels? Was this how humans have gotten with their lineages and dynasties? Khonshu thought. Humans, as much as he cared for their existence, he seemingly cannot understand them.

Like how he could not understand this little girl. 

“Foooouuuund it!” She yells out, and Khonshu groans with annoyance. A feather boa in her hand, and it was hot pink again. She drapes over his hunched shoulders, “Et voila!”

If Khonshu had eyebrows, he would most definitely be frowning that he’d regain wrinkles.

“Papa says its French!” 

Was it too late to be cast into stone again?

He guessed causing unscripted eclipses might be on his list of duties. 

-x- 

Genuinely, sometimes, you feel like you should pick up another book about raising children. Well you did do that during your whole pregnancy/ process of adopting, but you tossed it out, believing you can most definitely do this.

You can.. well.. to some extent. 

Marrying Steven Grant, Marc Spector and Jake Lockley was a whole ride. When you first met them, it was first with Steven, and while he was staring off for who knows where, he may or may not have bumped right at you, coffee on hand, and in all white, ready for a good day. Or so you thought. No wonder you had a hunch to not wear white. Especially on a whole Tuesday. 

You would have had a breakdown right then and there. If he didn’t go on bumbling down, apologizing, and offering his own money to buy new coffee, and a whole new blouse. You only laughed it off, going on about how you could pass it off as a shirt design. From that, it was as if you could remember hearing his laugh. Sweet, warm, and almost sunny. 

Marc was sudden, he just.. switched from Steven. It was all so confusing at first, him yelling at you to get run, and your brain just being fuzzy from the commotion. You couldn’t remember what it was, opting to push whatever happened into the darkest depths of your mind. But all you remember- or want to- was that he was there, hand in hand, shoulder by shoulder. Ushing right out of the danger you wish to forget, and that safety he provided, you relished on it like fire during winter. 

With Jake, it was all an accident, you remember it was 3am, and you had to wake up to go to the bathroom, only to see him bleeding out on the floor. The scream you let out really woke up his system. That night, you had to get both your sewing kit and your first aid. Stitching up his wound, and how you were determined to fix him up, he couldn’t help but feel.. giddy. Giddy? Jake Lockley? Please, that sounds wrong. But it’s true, he did feel it right through his gut. 

As much as you love them- and even married them— with a whole ceremony and rings with those long vows- these three had someone hunching over their backs, and it was an ominous figure. An ominous, loud figure in fact. One who goes on about real justice and vengeance. Honestly, you’ve heard it all from these three. 

You knew he was a god, from his arrogance and how he apparently holds himself, such behaviour isn’t human- especially how he apparently hunched down at the altar, just right above your heads. You remember Jake being amused, chuckling about “nosy” and “bird” while Marc and Steven fully agreed to forget that Khonshu even did that.

Fidgeting your wedding ring in your hand, walking to your daughter’s room. You realize, it was around 3pm, oh— tea time. You couldn’t help but be surprised, she’d usually ask you to come by your room, force you to wear one of her tiaras, and plant your whole face with glitter. 

As you reach the door, you absent-mindedly enter, hearing your kid’s muffled voice, and as you look at the view, your eyes widened. 

“Why the hell is there a floating crown in our daughter’s room?” 

The god knew that all you -the unseeing mortal- could see was a hot pink tiara just soaring through the air like a UFO, perched right over to the seat on the other side of the child. You hear footsteps come back to your direction. 

Your husband comes by, his voice peeking out, “Love? What’s goin’ on?—“ Steven asks with concern, but that stops until he turns and starts laughing. 

“Oh wow! The pigeon’s got himself in quite an outfit..” Steven stifles and all you could do was be confused, you literally only see a floating crown, what is going on?

In Steven’s mind, he only hears the voices of the other two, literally bickering like there’s no tomorrow. 

Am I seeing what I’m fucking seeing?

Yes Jake. You are seeing Khonshu as a pretty princess.

PFFT— The kid’s bested him, can tell she’s a Spector, or a Grant, nah, definitely a Lockley.

Didn’t we solve this like two years ago??

Still thinks she’s a Lockley kid, definitely not a Spector, you see how she got the bird up in its coop?

The only thing Steven could say was that, “Khonshu’s playin’ with her, and she’s dolled him up for a pageant.”

“That good?” You ask. 

“No it’s horrendous actually- Not because of her heaven’s no- It’s all the bird’s fault.”

“I can hear you, you worm.” 

“That’s not nice to say to papa!” She broke out, a cute pout on her face. “Do not tell me what to do, child.”

She only puts out her tongue at him as retaliation. Making Jake’s laughs echo in Steven’s skull. “You’re being a goose!”

“A GOOSE?” Khonshu almost yells out, “For my long reign of the moon I have never been disrespec—“ The floor starts to shake, the curtains then swish to the wind, but it only leaves Steven looking a little constipated from laughter, as his chortles blur out whatever Khonshu had to offer to them. But her attention seeks itself to her parents, as she says. “How do I look Mama? Papa?”

A smile on your lips, trying to ignore the sudden wake of the Earth, gods and their tempers. “Absolutely great sweetie.”

Steven offers his smiles and his trusty thumbs-up, and the other two that stay quite rent-free in his head just screams out their compliments like madmen. Mostly Jake, but can you blame him? 

Look at her, I’m forcing myself to sit and wait for my turn to be able to front my way right now.

Hah! Sunshine literally bested the old bird. While being a pretty princess. Fucking true royalty right there.

With a six year old dress up game too. Smart kiddo. This proves she’s a Spector. 

She is not.

Yes she is.

“Let’s just say she’s a Grant,” Steven hisses lowly enough for only himself to hear, but you could already tell he was talking with them, just from the crinkle of his brows. “That’s something maybe most can agree with.” 

This was going to be a long afternoon. 

[ecto-american]

The Other Side

Phic Phight Oneshot for Kiinotasha and KC: (AU) Born a halfa and raised in the Ghost Zone by his mother, Danny struggles with his human identity when a permanent man made portal appears in the Ghost Zone.

On AO3 and FFN

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

Danny never questioned his life until that man made portal spawned. He never forgot when he first saw it six years ago while playing with Youngblood.

Naturally, they were playing aliens and spacemen, Danny's favorite. Earlier in the play session, they had found it, and it was deemed part of their spaceship. It was just a metal outline, an octagon. Thick enough that they could sit, and they pretended that the limited space was the entrance. Obviously on the left side was space, and the right side was their ship. Eventually their moms called them home, and during dinner when asked about his day, he told his mom about it.

She frowned, and she asked him for more details. Having played on it all day, he described it perfectly. His mom paled, and she forbid him from going there again, but she didn't expand on why.

He saw no reason to be afraid. It was just a metal shape. There were far more dangerous places in the Ghost Zone. So the next day, he told Youngblood about his mom's weird reaction. His mom had reacted the same, but didn't say why. His dad explained that it was dangerous, but not what about it was dangerous. Danny didn't have a dad, but he was sure that if he did, he probably would have said the same thing. But neither child could get it. What was dangerous about a shape?

So they just played with it again the next day, and they lied to their moms about what they did.

Two years later, another ghost had join to make them a trio. Her name was Box Lunch, and she was honestly a lot of fun. But she was still a girl, and they didn't tell her about their secret fun location until they were sure she didn't have cooties. When they showed her, she instantly knew what it was.

"That's a ghost portal!" she exclaimed. Youngblood and Danny thought she was stupid. Ghost portals didn't stay anywhere permanently. They opened and closed at random, when the human world and Ghost Zone would temporarily merge and allow for a rip to tear. But it always mended back together quickly.

"No it's not," Youngblood scowled. Box Lunch made a face at him.

"Yeah-huh!" she insisted. "My mommy and daddy get into the human world all the time! She said some people there have been trying to make a permanent portal to here!"

"Nu-uh!" Youngblood argued. "My dad said that humans wouldn't do that, they're more afraid of us than we are of them!"

"Yeah-huh!" Box Lunch said more forcefully. "My parents were human once, they said that people constantly wanna hunt us in the human world! And that they're coming here!"

"If they're afraid of us, then why come here?" Youngblood challenged.

"What else would it be?" Box Lunch asked, crossing her arms.

"It's a weirdo ghost's lair!"

And as they bickered back and forth, Danny had remained quiet. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. His friends often forgot that Danny wasn't just a ghost. He was also human.

Not that he was a ghost who was once human, that died. He was both, and he always had been. Born that way, according to his mom, because his dad was human. Danny didn't know too much about him, and he never really thought to ask.

He knew that his name was Jack, and how he looked like. His mom had hung a photo of him in his room so that he'd know; blue eyes, black hair, with a square jaw and in a distinctive orange jumpsuit. The orange suit always reminded him of the blue one his mom wore underneath a lab coat. She said he looked just like his dad when he was in his human form, and he could absolutely see it. Though as a ghost he had white hair that he seemingly inherited from nobody, with his mom's light blue skin and yellow-green eyes. As a ghost, he matched with a black jumpsuit, though as a human, he preferred regular clothes.

Most ghosts had learned of Danny's true nature early on as the news slowly spread when he was born. They loved him and accepted him as one of them. He could go out into the Zone as a human, but it always felt weird. So he was always a ghost.

That night, as he got tucked in for bed, he decided to bring the metallic object up again.

"Box Lunch said that the big metal shape is a permanent ghost portal," he blurted out. His mom stared at him with wide yellow eyes, and so he knew that Box Lunch was actually right. "Is it?"

She sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I believe so," she confirmed. Danny sat up.

"Is that why you don't want me going near it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. Danny cocked his head curiously.

"But if I'm also human, wouldn't they be okay with me?" he wondered. His mom paused for a long, long time. "I'm also one of them."

"I don't know, honey," she admitted. He could tell that she did know. She kissed his forehead. "I'll talk to you about it when you're a little bit older, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise. Now good night, sweetie."

It was four more years before it really became relevant again. He had essentially forgotten about the unoperational portal as homeschooling, other friends, and general undead life had continued on for him and his mom.

Youngblood didn't age, since he was once human and died, and so as Danny got older, they hung out less. While Box Lunch, a born ghost, grew, he became distant from her too for unrelated reasons. Danny wasn't alone, however. For a while, he hung out with other ghosts who had died young before he met his best friend. He was a bit older than him when he had died, sixteen to his fourteen, but Johnny 13 (and his shadow) and him had almost instantly become friends and hung out nearly every day. Often his girlfriend joined them too. His mom also allowed him to keep a newly dead dog that had followed him home, that alternated from a puppy to a large hulking beast of a monster dog. Danny named him Cujo.

Ghost Writer provided lessons in the arts on Tuesdays and Thursdays for him and a few other younger ghosts, which did include Johnny and Kitty. On the other days, his mom homeschooled him in her passion: the sciences. His favorite memories were of him and his mother in her lab, doing home experiments and building a wide variety of things.

She indulged in whatever nonsense he wanted to build, which included but wasn't limited to: rock cannon, small spaceships, figuring out how they could grow potatoes on the moon like the man in the martian book did, using ecto energy to cook poptarts.

Often her friend, Technus, but better known to Danny as Uncle Nico, came by to do more of the tech-based stuff. Danny believed that Uncle Nico could do anything with technology. He was one of the ghosts that often went through the natural portals, and whenever he came back, he had something for Danny. Typically game consoles and games, but sometimes fun little useless knick knacks that Danny treasured deeply. He fixed those game consoles many times, and also showed him how to download and install cheats and mods to make them more fun.

And after a morning full of science or the arts, Danny would eat lunch then rush off to play with his friends, Cujo always on his heels.

Looking back, he never did much as a human. He had to resort to his human side to rest, or would default to it if he fell asleep. It felt weird being in human form amongst ghosts, and so he was just always a ghost. He never thought much about it, and nobody ever asked him to be a human around them. It was just how things were.

On the day he'd never forget, it was just him and Johnny. His girlfriend had opted not to come. Danny couldn't remember the original topic, but it made him remember the portal. As soon as he told Johnny about it, the two idly scratching Cujo as the dog slept in between them in puppy form, the ghost's eyes lit up excitedly.

"Dude! We have to check it out!" Johnny insisted.

"I dunno," Danny hesitated. "My mom said that I should stay away."

"Come on, it'll be sick! I've always wanted to go back to the human world," Johnny begged. "And you've never even been there, despite being half-human!"

Danny paused. Well, when you put it like that...

"Okay!" he agreed. He floated up from his seat a bit so he could untangle his legs to stand. Cujo immediately got up from his spot laying near them, tail wagging excitedly. "Let's go! I think I still know where it is!"

It had changed since he last saw it. It now had huge yellow and black doors in place of the previous blank space, and it seemed somehow bigger than he remembered it years ago. But it was unmistakably the man made portal.

Even now, he didn't get what would be too scary about it that his mom would encourage him to stay far away. It was just a door.

"This is so fucking cool," Johnny whispered as he touched the door. "Imagine...no more trying to hunt down a portal. We can just come and go as we please...seeing our lost loved ones...seeing my mom again…It's been so long...I dunno if she'd even remember me..."

Danny didn't say anything, but he did begin to think and truly wonder for the first time what his dad was like. His mom never talked about him, and he never really asked. He and his mom were happy, and he also had Uncle Nico. Was his dad kind? Did he also like science? Why wasn't he here? Did his dad even know about him?

"Do you think we can open it?" Danny asked. Cujo licked his fingers, and Danny scratched his head. Johnny glanced over his shoulder at him.

"I dunno," he admitted. His hand turned into a fist and he knocked on the door. "It seems really solid. I don't think we can just break it or something."

"Hm. Lemme see," Danny mused. He came closer, and he put his hand on the door. It was cold, and Johnny was right; it was metallic, just like the outer edge he used to play on, and it would not break easily. His finger traced the middle line of the two doors. "Hm. Maybe we can pry the door open."

"The humans made this," Johnny spoke. Danny stared at him. No shit. "No, no, I mean. Maybe you should do something to it as a human." Danny thought on this, and he shrugged. Couldn't hurt.

His transformation rings came and went, leaving him in his human state. He was just in a t-shirt and jeans today, and he stayed floating near the portal.

His hand had barely touched the portal when it opened for him.

Danny gasped in shock, jerking his hand back as it opened. Johnny had also jumped, going backwards a bit, and Cujo's fur went up as he barked. It fully opened, and he couldn't see anything but the green ooze. This wasn't anything like Uncle Nico had mentioned natural portals being like. They normally acted like a window you could see through. But it was an unnatural portal made by man.

"Maybe this isn't such a-" Johnny began, but Danny had already stepped through.

There was a weird in between area that shined bright blue that he never heard Uncle Nico describe. But in this in between, he could see exactly what the ghost had mentioned. He knew he was still in the Zone, but he could look out the portal into the human world like a window.

A man in an orange jumpsuit, with black hair that was graying, was sitting in a room that reminded him very much of his mom's lab. He was staring at the portal in confusion, likely because it had randomly opened, and Danny instantly knew who it was. He had no idea if his dad could see him, but he found himself rushing backwards, and back into the Zone.

The second he returned, he became a ghost again, and he silently began to fly away as he tried to process. Johnny asked no questions, only following, Cujo following them both.

That night, at dinner, he finally asked.

"What was dad like?"

His mom stared at him for a moment.

"Well, he was very sweet," she said slowly. "Very bubbly personality. Always went out of his way to help his friends." She smiled softly as she talked about him. "Adored fudge."

"Did he like science?" Danny wondered. His mom gave a short laugh.

"Oh boy he adored it. Not the best at it, but he had a lot of enthusiasm," he replied. "We used to do experiments together all the time."

Danny stared down at his food as he thought. He looked up to her, and he could tell that she already knew what he was going to ask.

"How come I never met him?" he wondered. She sighed.

"...He doesn't like ghosts," she replied. "Aspiring ghost hunter when I met him, actually. I was alive then. Had the same ambitions." At his shocked look, she laughed again. "I know, ironic. We had dated for about two years officially. But then...I died. It was winter, and I was driving late at night during a snowstorm. My car slid off the road, and into a river. And I died from my injuries. I found that I could disguise myself as human, and I was in denial. So I just...continued on."

"...Why?" he asked. His mom shrugged in defeat.

"I guess I just didn't want to admit that it was over. I hadn't done everything I wanted to do yet. I was still in college, and I felt like my life had been forcibly finished before it had even truly started," she admitted. "Jack had proposed, but I had declined. I was too afraid to tell him. He began pursuing ghost hunting more seriously as a profession and building weapons and portals. I found out I was having you, and he was so excited to be a dad. I began getting scared. I didn't know how long I could continue the lie. I didn't know how it all would affect you. Then the police found my car and body, and I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. So I left. I had no clue how to face him, or even how safe you might be if we talked. Especially after you were born, and I realized that you were half ghost."

The more she talked, she more somber she became. By the end, she was sniffling a little. Guilt began to wash over him.

"Have you ever talked to him again? Like after I was born?" he wondered. She shook her head no. "How come you've never taken me to the human world?"

"I had considered it. But it's too dangerous," she explained. "Humans aren't like ghosts. If they knew that you were also ghost...you wouldn't wanna find out what happens."

"...Do you regret any of it?" Do you regret me?

She smiled softly despite the conversation.

"You were the best thing to ever happen to me," she told him. "I may have been very anxious about being alone, and how you may turn out despite it all. But you were born healthy and perfect in every way. You're absolutely the light of my afterlife."

Danny smiled back, feeling some reassurance. His mom stood up, leaning over to peck his forehead before picking up her plate. He heard Cujo scramble out from under the table, ears up in excitement.

"I think I'll finish this later," she told him. "I'm not too hungry tonight." She glanced down at the dog. "This isn't for you."

Cujo whined, following her as she put her plate in the microwave. Danny nodded, sparing a small smile to Cujo and ushering for him to come over. He slipped him a piece of chicken as his mom left.

Later that night, Danny couldn't sleep. He was too busy sorting out his rushing thoughts. He was of course still him. Nothing really changed, but there was this new growing emptiness. Danny was still Danny, but there was a whole other side to him that knew nothing about. It began to eat at him more and more. Who was this human side besides just human Danny who lived in the Ghost Zone? He didn't know.

He now wished that his mom had taken him to the human world before so that he could know. She did say that there was a risk in the humans knowing he was also a ghost, which he didn't get. The ghosts accepted him as one of their own, so why wouldn't the humans? He didn't get humans at all. And he needed to know more about them. He was one of them.

By breakfast, his mind was made up.

After an unusually boring lesson with Ghost Writer together, Danny immediately went to Johnny once their small class of sorts were dismissed.

"I have to go back." Danny couldn't breath for a moment. "I have to see what it's like. Like you said, I'm also human, and I've never been there. All my unlife, I've been a ghost, here, in the Ghost Zone. My dad's in the human world. And I need to know what it's like to be human. What it means. So I can maybe meet him one day."

Johnny nodded.

"I think I get it," he said slowly. "I'll come with you. Keep you company. I think I could pass for human pretty well, even if I have to say that I have some kind of sickly disease that keeps me pale."

Danny grinned.

"Thanks," he replied. "Come on."

It took no time at all to find the portal. Danny stared up at it, his breath once more stolen as he tried to think of a reason why he shouldn't go through it.

Nothing came to mind.

"It's okay if you don't wanna," Johnny said. Danny shook his head no.

"I have to do this," he replied. "I need to do this."

Johnny patted his back, and that was all the subconscious encouragement Danny needed to turn human and press his hand to the door. Once more, it opened. The fact that he's even able to open it made him know that this was something he was meant to do. He once again stepped through with Johnny right behind him.