#all jokes aside the red lighting in this one is superb

[gin-and-total-annihilation]

more spop not!fic that actually turns into fic bc i am trash

I will preface this entirely-too-long post by saying I’ve read very, very little spop fanfic, and the few I’ve read since s5 dropped are all Catradora oneshots that are, um, a little hyperfocused. (Read: Y’all really have some Ideas about how a sword lesbian and a cat lesbian have The Sex, don’tcha.) So it’s entirely probably that the scenario I’m imagining here has been done before, possibly a lot, and likely better than how I’ve imagined it. This is me, 15 minutes late with Starbucks.

But can you imagine how hard it would be for Catra to integrate into the Princess Alliance? I mean, the show depicts the BFS adopting her pretty much immediately with, like, zero hesitations over their past history with her (a few sarcastic one-liners tossed here and there don’t count as processing, imho). But the kingdom at large? Not to mention the other kingdoms? Catra was the face of the invasion for such a long time. She had a specific angle to take out She-Ra, the ubiquitously-loved and lauded hero of Etheria. Yes, she helped save the planet/universe from Horde Prime, but once the banners and balloons come down, there’s still a reckoning to be had.

Mermista alternately pokes fun at Catra for being afraid of water, and takes any opportunity to “accidentally” splash her

Netossa brings a squirt bottle to any meeting where Catra is invited, and offers at some point to make Adora a magic leash for her

Frosta doesn’t particularly say or do anything, but she makes extra sure to exude icy menace in Catra’s direction. Okay, one time she maybe accidentally zings Catra during iceball, but everyone else thought it was funny!

Out of respect for Scorpia’s friendship with Catra, Perfuma doesn’t stoop to playing pranks, but she does pointedly remark on how muddled Catra’s chi is, a lot. Sometimes in the middle of a meeting, if Catra is arguing with someone, Perfuma will airily announce to the whole room that negative energy is starting to interfere with their goals again, and it looks like she’ll have to sage the meeting room again. After which Catra usually just gives up and sulks in silence

Micah is fairly neutral on the subject of Catra, considering she’s part of his daughter’s “best friend squad” and is also dating She-Ra, Princess of Power, demigod of the wind and sea, vanquisher of Horde Prime, hero of Etheria. But he does get moody sometimes looking at the mural of Angella, and a couple of times he’ll go Dad Mode and tell Glimmer she reminds him of her mother, but then he’ll glance at Catra and change the subject.

And like, Catra gets it, okay? She fucked up. She was the bad guy. And these people are princesses. If there’s anything Catra knows is true, it’s that princesses are champions at Not Letting It Go. So she mostly just lets it roll off her shoulders. (Okay, yes, sometimes she goads them, and yes, she should keep her mouth shut more instead of trading barbs, but what do you want from her? Being catty is her thing.) After all, she got her happily ever after. She got Adora. And that’s really all that she cares about. So a couple of whiny, poofy, pastel-wearing bimbos wanna take cheap shots at her? Ha. Catra wrote the book on petty. She grew up in the Horde. Let ‘em do their worst. 

Except Adora gets Big Mad about it.

I imagine Adora not only notices how the other princesses act around Catra, she sees Catra doing her best to ignore it. Melog is a pretty good indicator of Catra’s temper, and so it’s clear that the hazing irritates the shit out of Catra, but true to her word, she’s been working on her anger, so aside from sarcasm the worst anyone gets out of a her is a scowl, a flicking tail and ears, and Melog’s brief display of red-tinged spines and growling. 

So Adora is proud, seriously! Catra has come a long way from where she was in the Horde. But Adora, the OG “Punch Your Feelings Out Guy”, wants to remind the other princesses that Catra’s not the only one who changed sides.

Naturally, she does this by losing her temper and shouting them down during another all-princess meeting where everyone is subtly picking on Catra.

“What is your problem? Catra’s on our side now! Why are you all still acting like this?”

Mermista, never one to back down from a verbal slap-fest, gamely engages. “Um, not everyone thinks that just because Catra made, like, one good choice, she gets a free pass on all her other ones.”

“Forgiveness is a process, Adora,” says Perfuma primly, ignoring the glare Adora sends her way. “You can’t expect everyone to accept Catra immediately. We need time to work through our negative associations with Catra so that we can begin the healing process.”

Catra rolls her eyes, but Adora throws her hands in the air. “Immediately? It’s been months! And you’re not working through anything! You’re bullying her!”

At this point, Catra is almost offended at all this implies. “Uh, excuse me, no one bullies me, okay. I can take anything they throw at me.”

“Ha, that’s funny,” says Netossa sweetly. “Because that’s not what you say anytime I have this in my hand!” She brandishes the squirt bottle, and Catra’s ears flatten but she keeps herself from flinching.

Adora slaps the table. “See! Bullying!”

“Adora, calm down,” says Glimmer, sighing with a hand over her eyes. At her side, Bow splays both hands in a gesture that simultaneously tries to placate everyone.

“Okay, look, everyone,” he says. “A couple of jokes are one thing, but Adora’s got a point. It’s going a little too far.”

“Oh? Was it also going a little too far when Catra wrecked my castle and destroyed Princess Prom?” says Frosta, crossing her arms.

“Or when she decimated the Whispering Woods?” adds Perfuma.

“Or when she attacked my kingdom?” Mermista, chin on fist, rolls her eyes. “And, you know, stole it for a while.”

“Or when she sent Entrapta to Beast Island?” Perfuma turns to put a hand on Entrapta’s shoulder, but Entrapta’s eyes have gone starry.

“Oooh, I liked Beast Island! The tech there was superb! Maybe I can go back with all the resources at my disposal, now that I’m not an exiled prisoner anymore, and see if I can finally succeed in reversing the polarity of the--”

“See,” says Perfuma hastily, “she was exiled and a prisoner! With no, um, resources!”

“Look, Adora, it’s great that you and Catra are happy together,” says Frosta, with the deadpan expression of a fourteen-year-old who does not mean a single thing she says. “But I still don’t like her.”

“My heart breaks,” mutters Catra, but Adora leans over the table, eyes closing in a bid for patience.

“I’m not asking anyone to like her. I’m just saying, stop bullying her.”

“Uh, again, I’m not--”

Adora spears Catra with a single look, and Catra subsides, a little stunned at the turbulence in her girlfriend’s eyes.

“It’s mean,” Adora goes on, “and it’s pointless, since Catra is on our side now. I know there’s history there, but we are in the process of rebuilding Etheria and creating an example to show the other worlds we’re trying to reach. So just--chill, okay?”

A moment of silence greets this declaration. Then Frosta looks away with a snort.

“I’ll show her some chill,” she mutters.

Catra desperately wants to roll her eyes. “Give it a rest, kid.”

Frosta shoots to her feet, a layer of ice sheeting the table under her hands. “Don’t talk down to me, Horde scum!”

Melog leaps onto the table, its mane blazing so deep a red it’s nearly black. Chaos erupts as various shouts of “Melog, no!” and “Watch out!” tangle in the air. Catra rises from her seat, alarmed that Frosta is about to ice-punch her alien cat, when thunder cracks and a deep, throaty voice shouts, “Enough!”

She-Ra stands in battle stance, glowering at the room’s occupants, light pouring off her. The sword is held in a neutral rest position in her hand, though every inch of her (and there’s a lot of them) seems to be vibrating with energy.

Catra clears her throat as Melog instantly goes liquid-blue and pounces to She-Ra’s side, curling around and around her legs with undisguised adoration.

Melog, it seems, has no concept of chill.

The princesses all resume their seats, staring at the beast they’d been seconds from attacking as it practically rolls on the ground at She-Ra’s feet. Their eyes go from She-Ra to Melog to Catra, who expertly pretends to be unaffected and unblushing.

“Catra is not a threat,” says She-Ra in that voice, and Melog agrees blissfully, rubbing its head against her hip. Catra opens her mouth to protest, but sighs and shuts up. No point in protesting that you’re a badass when your psychic mood-ring therapy cat goes belly-up anytime your hot warrior girlfriend looks at you.

“Catra deserves another chance. She’s already proven herself by helping us defeat Prime.” She-Ra lays a single hand on Melog’s head. Catra wants to bury her face in her hands at the sound the alien cat makes.

“But how can we trust her when she used to fight for the Horde!” protests Frosta.

“So did I,” says She-Ra quietly, and it’s like all the air gets sucked out the room.

“So did Entrapta and Scorpia--” Perfuma’s eyes drop to the table at this. “--and you, Mermista--” Mermista sighs, but doesn’t argue. “and Spinnerella--” Even though She-Ra’s voice is gentle, Spinnerella’s eyes still well with tears, and Netossa tries to glare while she comforts her wife, but even she looks guilty. “--and King Micah, and Shadow Weaver--” Even though Glimmer wasn’t one of the princesses giving Catra shit, she still winces and leans closer to Bow. “And we gave every single one of them a second chance before the war was even ended. What makes Catra different from them?”

“She wasn’t mind-controlled!” argues Frosta.

“Yes, she was!” shoots back She-Ra, and Catra can’t help the flinch, the instinct to reach back and rub her neck. Her hair is just starting to be long enough to cover the faint scar of the implant.

“Okay, for like, a second, but even before Horde Prime, Catra was--”

“Catra and I were both abused and manipulated by Shadow Weaver.” There’s a thread of pain in She-Ra’s voice now. “From the time we were infants. We never stood a chance against her.”

“But you escaped,” says Perfuma, almost as a question. “You changed your mind about the Horde, and you left.”

Catra stares at the table. She can feel She-Ra’s eyes glance toward her. Melog gives a solemn mrow of comfort, pulsing aqua-blue. Without warning, light flares again and Adora is standing at Catra’s side, hands empty.

“If I hadn’t found the sword in the Whispering Woods, it would have been me marching on your kingdoms,” says Adora, and everyone shuffles uncomfortably. “I was chosen to be Force Captain just a couple hours before. It was dumb luck that I fell off that skiff and landed where I did.”

“It was destiny,” argues Perfuma. “You were chosen to be She-Ra! You would have found the sword at some point!”

“By that point, would it have mattered?” Adora’s hand strokes Melog’s ears. Catra swears she can feel the ghost of those fingers on her own head. “I wouldn’t have had Bow and Glimmer to show me what the Horde was really doing. I would have had Shadow Weaver and Hordak reinforcing my training.”

“You would have found a way to become She-Ra,” says Perfuma earnestly. “The universe would have aligned somehow--”

“And whose kingdom would have already fallen to the Horde by the time that happened?” Adora lifts her hands helplessly. “Don’t you get it? If I hadn’t discovered I was She-Ra, I would have become Catra.”

They stare at her, apparently never having put the dots together before. Catra, who has always been smarter than these princesses, leans back in her chair.

“Maybe,” she says, smirking up at her girlfriend. “But I wore it better.”

aslfja;lskdjfl;a this is already too long and it half-morphed into fic, so I’ll just summarize by saying everyone is a little sorry that they’ve been bullying Catra, and Catra refuses to admit she’s been bullied because of course she does, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t hugely touched and grateful that for once Adora fought to protect her from her princess friends. The Alliance goes forward with the intent of trying to behave better towards Catra. It helps that they saw Melog turn into a jello-mold as soon as She-Ra appeared, so they have proof positive that Catra is indeed not a threat and is in fact secretly a jello mold herself. The bullying turns into heckling whenever Catra and Adora goo-goo-eye each other. Which is a lot. Frosta makes an ice sculpture of Catra swooning into Adora’s arms (her art skills mysteriously improve enough to clearly depict Catra with heart eyes and Adora with bulging biceps). Perfuma decorates it with flowers. Netossa puts a forcefield net around it so Catra can’t destroy it. Catra sulks and Adora flexes her muscles to make her feel better. the end???

bonus line I couldn’t figure out how to incorporate: “Uh, Entrapta has two Hordaks and I don’t see anyone giving her crap about them!”

[bungostraydoggos]

Dazai, atsushi and akutagawa reacting to their s/o getting fatly injured and is at the brink of death while trying to protect them? (Sorry i'm a hoe for angst lol)

~Light descriptive gore disclaimer~

——————————————————————

Dazai Osamu

「人間失格...」 No longer human... Ah yes, that’s right--- as those three words spilt from his shivering lips, those were certainly the epitome of the state he was in. To see Dazai’s beloved slashed in front of him was harsh. He never knew the feeling of hopelessness was real until the tragic moment dawned onto him. Despite his superb keenness and special repellent ability, the fact that he wasn’t able to protect them in the end remained. The reality to see their eyes gradually fading into blank emptiness as their dark blood spurt like a fountain left Dazai utterly speechless. His worn-out bandages reaches out to them in a slow motion, trying to grasp at least any part of them that was left intact. The enemy was too quick and too strong for Dazai alone to handle, and it was nearly impossible to face him since he had no combative strength nor powers. However, he really believed his intellect and quick wit could evade the enemy, but it only lasted a couple of minutes and at the end, it was all in vain when he witnessed his partner taking the blow from the enemy’s attack--- all in order to protect him.  Why would you protect me? I should’ve been the one protecting you yet you---! There was no use in reflecting over spilt milk. Dazai’s eyes widened at every second they saw their body falling. It’s strange. It’s not fair, and it just can’t be. Even though Dazai was already beginning to crumble at the sight of his significant other injured, there was something else that made him swell with even more pain inside. At death’s door, they smiled at Dazai as if reassuring him that they’ll be okay. In all honesty, it felt like some sort of a joke. They can’t be alright in that tattered condition. They can’t be okay. No words could describe how Dazai was feeling. In his moments of reaching out to them, within seconds after the unfortunate event that just transpired, Atsushi finally arrived at the scene to help. Dazai scoops their fainted body and gently puts them in Atsushi’s care. The tiger boy tried to talk to Dazai about the enemy but it was no use. His dark eyes were darker than any darkness. One could say Dazai has returned to his old mafia self but truthfully, his current anger was far more dangerous and deadly than anything. It was as if he was truly no longer human. The ex-mafia returns to the battlefield before saying his final words to Atsushi.  “Whatever happens, take care of them.” Dazai’s possessed state of rage was suddenly soothed when he heard a familiar voice.  “Don’t... die... please...” Their voice trailed off into his ears, reminding him to make sure he comes back alive because even though with severe injuries, they’ll try to stay alive too. Dazai softly smiled that looked all too painful.  “No promises but... I’ll be back.” With that, Dazai left to defeat the enemy with everything he had. The only one who witnessed the whole murder-like scene was Atsushi and in his words, it was the most frightening moment he has ever experienced in his life. 

Nakajima Atsushi

One of the things Atsushi has gotten used to hearing was the sound of his leg teared apart by an enemy, but not the sound of his significant other’s leg being teared apart. It was awful. The enemy took their gutty muscles and ripped it apart like it was some pillow. The ripping sounds was like the sound of breaking wood. Repeated, it was awful. This rush of anger felt like a rush of steroids pumping through his veins. Atsushi didn’t waste a second and his tiger-speed immediately retrieved his injured partner away from the enemy. His speed was so fast there were no blood trails of his companion until he set them aside in a safer spot where they won’t get hurt. The enemy laughs at Atsushi’s emotional state while mocking him and provoking him with meaningless threats and blackmails. The were-tiger wasn’t listening. The rush of blood was too strong and while it was pumping throughout his body and sharp ears, he didn’t hear a word his enemy spouted. He didn’t hear anything except the thumping sound of his heart beating and accelerating into a ferocious rage in which no one could hear except him. Atsushi turns around with an intense glare. His tiger-eyes were piercing through his enemy’s soul, and his black claws baring out intimidating the enemy’s spirit. This kind of feeling was almost a first for Atsushi. He couldn’t really tell what to make of this overwhelming state of emotion. Is it because his lover got hurt during his fight? Probably, but even so, the fact that they shouldn’t have gotten hurt remains the same and for Atsushi, he was so angry at his incapability of protecting them properly and unharmed. He was so angry. So angry at himself yet he knew his priority was to destroy his enemy as payback in what they did to his significant other. In a flash, Atsushi began countless attacks against the enemy and within minutes, they were defeated and splatted like flies. It wasn’t until Dr. Yosano yelled at the tiger that helped him realize he was getting out of control.  “They’re okay now! I got them healed and their leg back together. It’s okay now, Atsushi...” Dr. Yosano’s words were like sweet honey to Atsushi. When he turned around to see his beloved laying beside the doctor, his eyes became watery and his trembling legs tried its best coming over to their side. He looks at them carefully and sees that their healthy color is slowly returning. Atsushi holds their hands into his like a prayer. “Thank god... I’m so glad...” With that, the case incident with the monster enemy was closed and soon after, Atsushi and his companion returned to the ADA to fully recover. 

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

It was so quiet. The atmosphere and aura around Akutagawa was suffocatingly quiet. Even though Akutagawa already holds a dark and gloomy image, right now, he felt even more darker and overwhelmingly terrifying. His eyes looked as if it gouging out with pure rage. The warm feeling of blood staining his body spread like wildfire. He carried them in his arms after the enemy hit a huge attack against his significant other causing them to lose complete consciousness. It was an awful attack but what was more awful was Akutagawa’s deadly reaction of seeing his beloved partner knocked out and severely injured. He honestly had doubts that they might survive but he couldn’t help but to hope for at least anything. All sense of logic disappeared from Akutagawa at this point. All that was left in his mind right now was to kill the enemy no matter what. He needed to obliterate them because that way, his companion will survive. That’s how it works, right? To Akutagawa, common sense was a foreign thing now and he transitioned into a state of a murderer ready to avenge his almost fallen partner. The blood staining his clothes were getting warmer and thicker. It felt like Akutagawa’s companion was spilling their blood for him, lending him their strength to defeat this damned enemy. Akutagawa activates his ultimate combination attack. His black cloak enveloped his slim body along with his partner. Together, Akutagawa looked like a black demon carrying his bride to the path of victory and vengeance. The black cloak boosted his powers while his partner’s spilt blood was like an impenetrable coated armor. Within milliseconds, Akutagawa slit the head of the enemy after blowing relentless Rashoumon attacks. The bloody scene around Akutagawa was like a day painted in red. The smell of iron was pungent and when Higuchi arrived at the scene, all of her admiration to her superior quickly turned into that of fear. What the hell happened? Well, who knew love could turn a man into an even more treacherous mafia. Akutagawa remained silent from the beginning almost as if he was mourning. He silently deactivates his Rashoumon cloak and stands still under the grey clouds. Higuchi comes closer after collecting her wits and sees her superior’s severely injured lover in his arms. She tries to touch her, but Akutagawa glared at his subordinate while yelling “don’t touch!”. Higuchi flinched but if anything, she got angry. Even though she had her own feelings for him, deep down she knew that this injured person in this man’s arms was precious to Akutagawa more than anyone and anything in this world and because of that, Higuchi needed to save Akutagwa’s significant other or else Akutagwa’s sorrow could never disappear— it’s all in order to save them. “You want to save them, don’t you?! Then you have to at least trust me to take care of them! We could save them if we get to the hospital right now so stop sulking!” This was the first time Higuchi shouted to Akutagawa. Maybe because of that, Akutgawa was slightly taken aback. He falls silent before defeatedly handing over his lover to Higuchi. Of course, all in the hopes to save them.  “Sorry... I’m counting on you.” With that, Higuchi gathers her wits again and takes Akutagawa’s significant other to the hospital while the Black Lizard team cleans up the mess. Akutagawa stands silently without moving an inch from where he stood before. His hands grasping the red tainted black coat. He takes a moment to himself where the lingering warmth lasted and after a few minutes, he leaves the messy scene to return back to his lover’s side. 

[zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen]

‘Fly Me To The Moon’

Yang looked downright stunning in her prom dress, a bright gold cocktail dress with a pleated train. Streaks of purple accented the pleats. It was perfect for dancing as well as walking since it fell to her shins. She could hear the music already, even though she'd made the scene much too early.

Her girlfriend performing with the band meant they weren't able to make a real evening of the prom, but they could still have a wonderful time.

The back door opened, and Blake appeared. Her eyes turned to stars at the sight of Yang. "You look breathtaking, Sunshine!" Blake told her before stealing a soft kiss. Yang blushed and grinned.

"You're one to talk, Moonlight! Out here looking like the sharpest-dressed man in Remnant!" Yang complimented. Blake was wearing a dark purple tuxedo with a gold dress shirt underneath. "You even wore the black suspenders I bought you!"

"They're useless because these pants are a tad small at the waist, but I like the aesthetic. Thanks again!"

"I just wish I could have worn my tuxedo..." Yang nicked. Blake chuckled.

"Hey, that's the great thing about going to rival schools! When your school's prom happens I'll put on my best dress and be the prettiest girl there! And you'll get to strut around in your bright gold tux with me on your arm, and tell your friends 'Hey, so I'm hitting that' every time I walk away!" Blake mused. Yang laughed at her. "And Coco won't be at that dance trying to out-gay both of us."

"Won't that be Ilia's thing?" Yang joked. Blake scoffed.

"Ilia could never out-gay anyone. She's too awkward. Plus she has a nosebleed every time she sees a girl." Blake laughed at her best friend's expense. Ilia was lovely, even for a useless lesbian.

"So, will we actually get to dance some time tonight? Or are you gonna be with the band the whole time?" Yang asked, making sad eyes and a pouty face for effect. Blake kissed Yang's forehead, making her blush. Yang kissed Blake's cheek, and finally, their lips met. The two girls kissed for a long moment, though their kisses never lasted long enough for Yang. She pulled at Blake's suspenders as the catgirl pulled away from their kiss.

"There are a few songs they don't need me that badly to perform, so yeah, we'll have some dance time. There's one I must be onstage for, though." Blake winked at Yang, the blonde smiling back at her.

"Do you think they could do 'Sunshine' without you? I'd love to dance to that song with you!" Yang pleaded. It was her favorite song by Blake's band.

"I think we can work something out..." One of the guys called Blake's name, her cat ears perking up. "I am needed inside. I love you, Sunshine! I promise we'll dance the night away!" She told Yang, sneaking one last kiss before walking back into the building.

"I love you too, Moonlight!" Yang replied, blushing the whole time.

"GAY!" She heard someone say behind her. She turned to see Coco and Velvet.

"I mean, that's what I'm aiming for..." Yang retorted. Coco looked spectacular as always, sporting an evening gown the color of coffee with matching hose. Velvet wore a bright red number that hugged her shape and glimmered in the light. The rabbit girl looked as though she felt out of place. She wasn't much for playing dress-up, but Coco always made sure she looked fantastic.

"So ESKAPE is playing tonight? I don't know that ska music offers much in the way of dancing..." Coco mused. Velvet shook her head, one of her upper ears folding over.

"They can play all sorts of stuff, Coffee Cake! It will go over great!" Velvet encouraged. The front doors opened, so people could finally start entering the dance.

Seeing all of Blake's friends and schoolmates all gussied up for a formal dance was wild. Yang didn't know too many of them, but they were usually friendly. A catgirl with a bright orange tail tried to hit on Yang but instantly realized she was Blake's date.

"Yeah, you're definitely Blake's girl! You're all she talks about; glorious mane of golden hair, purple eyes, a bit top-heavy... a real knockout. I think I'll congratulate her!" The catgirl rambled ceaselessly. Yang could not wait to get away from this girl.

Thank gods, Ilia appeared across the room. Yang politely excused herself from the chatty catgirl and practically ran to the chameleon girl.

"Hey, Scale Face! Aren't you with the band?" Yang asked her.

"I've worked with ESKAPE, but I have a band of my own. Right now we're called the Useless Lesbians, but that's just a placeholder." Yang laughed at the name. Bands aside, Ilia looked incredible in her rainbow evening gown.

"Thank you all for coming, or rather, thanks for having us perform at your prom!" Sun Wukong, another member of ESKAPE, spoke into his microphone a few songs deep into the dance. "If you guys don't mind, I'm gonna take a break from singing and pass the mike to our wonderful Blake Belladonna!" Everyone cheered as Sun grabbed the microphone stand with his tail and sat it down in front of Blake.

"Hey, Mistral High! You guys feeling all right tonight?" Blake asked, receiving cheers. "Wonderful. So I wrote a little something for my favorite girl. She's the smoking hot blonde in the gold dress. Hands off, she's here with me!" Yang blushed ten shades of red at that. Blake strummed her guitar in a jazzy rhythm.

They say that every day the universe expands

And we discover certain things that we don't understand

Well, dark matter ain't the only mystery at hand

I'm wondering how I got a girl like you to say that I'm her man

It's a statistical anomaly, but girl you've got me

Gravity is pulling me to your heavenly body

No astronomical phenomenon could ever stop me

You've got a smile that every star in the galaxy copied

The constellations couldn't make as beautiful a pattern

The conversations -- every night I ring you up like Saturn

The telescopes tell us folks that you're the coolest view

A supernova's scooting over to make room for you

Because you eclipse every wonder of the cosmos

It's almost unfair to them, but you're the one I want most

It's a miracle that Galileo never found you

If he did, he'd say the universe revolved around you.

After her dangerously smooth rap verse, she went into a rendition of 'Fly Me To The Moon'. Yang could not believe what she had just heard. Blake had written that about her?!

"Alright, I'm gonna give Sun back the mike and go have a dance with my favorite girl. Cheers!" Blake announced, setting her guitar on a stand and hopping off the stage to find Yang. Yang pulled her close by the waist and pulled her into a deep kiss, even leaning over for effect. She heard somebody clapping for them but that didn't matter.

"Fucking superb, you funky little Kitty Cat!" Yang told her as they pulled out of the kiss. It was Blake's turn to blush ten shades of red.

"I'm glad you liked it, Sunshine! So, Sun's about to play our song. Shall we dance?" Blake suggested. Yang heard the first chords of 'Sunshine' and she and Blake tore up the dance floor.

\/\/\/\/\/

\/\/\/\/\/

\/\/\/\/\/

Day 19: Formal Wear

PROM AU!! Featuring Beez!

Late again. I’m trying to catch up, though.

Blake’s song is this incredible jam by Going Spaceward  .

[lovemesomerafael]

Chapter 20:  The Inevitable

Chapters 1-10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12  Chapter 13  Chapter 14  Chapter 15  Chapter 16  Chapter 17  Chapter 18  Chapter 19

Ugh.  Spoiled, entitled prep school jock with a chiseled chin and washboard abs.  Rafael could not wait until he could escape this meet and greet.  He’d heard that Peter Stone had made quite a name for himself as a prosecutor in Chicago, but how hard could it have been for a guy like that to swan his way up the ranks?  He was pretty much the poster child for straight, white, male privilege.  Asshole.  Juries probably didn’t hear a word he said, just sat there fantasizing about bouncing quarters off his perfect ass.  Everything about him rubbed Rafael the wrong way, including the fact that his position at the D.A.’s office had been simply handed to him tied with a ribbon because of who his father was.  Barba shook hands with Stone for appearances’ sake, then spent the remainder of his obligatory ten minutes in the conference room absorbed in his phone trying not to make faces. 

At the end of the day, Barba made his way out the door into the late spring evening, grateful to be leaving the office before midnight.  He did have some work in his briefcase for later, but at least he’d be comfortable at home.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught that new arrogant ass Stone standing on the sidewalk, being greeted with a hug by a woman who reminded him vaguely of someone.  As he turned his head to glance at them, he realized she reminded him of Liv’s new detective.  Because she was Liv’s new detective.  It abruptly struck Rafael that Stone had just come from Chicago, and so had she.

Oh.

It came as a relief to him to learn that Detective Parker was in a relationship.  That meant he could relax and just appreciate the way her clothes hugged her in all the right places.  And he could admit that she made him laugh despite his intentions.  He didn’t even need to worry that he found the way she overpronounced consonants in Spanish uncomfortably cute. 

But it only made Stone more irritating to Rafael.  Of course Stone would be with a woman like her.  As he approached the parking garage, Rafael suddenly caught himself wondering what she’d be like in bed.  He couldn’t help noticing that she had a superb body, and was apparently pretty… physical.  ¡Coño!  Shut up, Barba.

 “You sure this is the one?”  

“You don’t care if I’m sure.  You just don’t want to move a couch.”

“Obviously.  But you dragged me here, so if that’s the one you want, let’s do this.”

Laura looked around for the salesperson who had been hovering annoyingly for the past hour, now ironically nowhere to be found.  In fact, it felt like now that they needed help, she and Peter were suddenly all alone in the furniture store.  

“No one’s looking.  Put it under your coat and let’s bolt.”

“I’d prefer not to get busted in my first week at the D.A.’s office.”

“I got my shield.  I’ll arrest you, and we’ll say the couch is evidence.”

“You just want to flash your shield at people.  You’re like a kid.  Anyway, here he comes…”

The salesman and Peter wrestled Laura’s new couch into the back of Peter’s SUV, with about a third of it hanging out the back flagged with a big red piece of flapping plastic.  Peter got progressively crankier as they reached Laura’s building and borrowed a dolly from the property manager.  By the time they finally had the couch in her living room, he was barely speaking except to complain.  

Fortunately, Laura had known Peter a long time.  While he returned the dolly, she answered a knock on her door to a guy waiting impatiently with bags of aromatic Thai food. Peter was delighted when he came back to the apartment and saw it, immediately opening boxes and eating.  As always, he didn’t bother with dishes.  

“When did you call for take out?”  He asked with his mouth full.

“At the store when you were loading the couch.”  

“You’re a genius.”

“You’re a jerk when you’re hungry.”

He didn’t stop eating, even while he chuckled.  

When dinner was over, Peter sprawled across Laura’s new couch, looking half asleep.  

“I met your D.A. today.”

“Barba?  What did you think?”

“Didn’t have the chance to say more than three words to him. McCoy had all the A.D.A.s stop by so we could meet – I don’t know why they do that.  I won’t remember one of their names.”

“Except Barba.”

“They say he’s good.  If half the stories are true, you should do OK with him.”

“What kind of stories?”

“Apparently he got a guy convicted by letting the guy choke him with a belt in front of the jury.”

“Seriously?  Barba?”

“That’s the story.”  

“I can’t imagine that.  He seems really… I don’t know.  Tightly wound.”  

“You don’t like him?”

“He’s barely spoken to me.  I’m beneath his notice.  Although he has managed to mention about seventeen things I’ve done wrong.  So there’s that.”

“Give him a shot,” Peter said, rolling to a sitting position and leaning over to kiss Laura on the cheek as she sat on the floor in front of the couch.  “I gotta get going.  I’m dead on my feet.”

“Thanks for helping me with the couch.  I appreciate it.”

“You only love me for my body.”

“Mmm-hmm.”  

It had been nice for Laura, seeing Peter, if only for a couple of hours.  Or maybe because it had only been for a couple of hours.  Peter was never going to be just a casual friend to her, no matter how much she might want that.  Several times during the process of moving from Chicago to New York, she had thought they’d made a mistake doing it together.  Not because she hadn’t enjoyed spending so much time together again. Just the opposite.  She had enjoyed it too much.  She had enjoyed him too much.

Peter’s forehead was creased with the wrinkles of troubled thoughts as he took the stairs down to the street.  There were no easy answers with him and Laura.  They’d decided to stay in each other’s lives because, having reconnected, they weren’t willing to give up the bond that existed between them. Romance aside, he liked Laura better than anyone else in the world.  But “romance aside” was a whole lot easier said than done, because he was also in love with her.  Trying to maintain a friendship and keep their mutual love out of it was very, very difficult at times.  Like now. He would like nothing better than to be back in her apartment, with her writhing and moaning beneath him on her new couch.  And he knew he could have persuaded her to do it.

But there was no point torturing himself, or her, when they both knew that indulging that want would only lead to the same heartache they’d already survived.  Sooner or later, their past would catch up with them.

As he drove to his own apartment, he thought about their trip from Chicago.  He and Laura had arranged to start their new jobs on the same day, so that they could drive to New York together with everything they owned stuffed into Peter’s SUV pulling a rented trailer.  The problem was, helping each other pack their belongings into the trailer and then spending two days driving together had reminded him of all the reasons he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.  They’d had the opportunity to really talk, to reestablish their friendship and attachment to each other.  They caught fully up with one another’s lives, laughed over old jokes, and created new ones.  They’d listened to all the eclectic old music they both loved and that had been the soundtrack of their life together.

For all sorts of reasons, they’d decided to break the trip into two easy days and spend a night in Cleveland.  In retrospect, things would be simpler now if they’d just driven straight through.  

They’d decided to stay at a nice hotel rather than a roadside cookie cutter place, and had rooms next door to one another.  Once they’d checked in and found the hotel’s restaurant, they enjoyed a laughter-filled dinner that was a little more romantic than he’d wished it was.  Since it was a weeknight, they’d had the restaurant practically to themselves. She had looked so beautiful in the candlelight, with her hair picking up the glow and her eyes sparkling with humor as she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but flirt with her.  She didn’t seem to mind.  He remembered trying not to wish this dinner was the beginning of a long evening of seducing her.  

Peter had suggested that, since the hotel had a great pool and they were both stiff and sore from the drive, they should take a swim and maybe soak in the hot tub.  She had agreed and they’d gone to their separate rooms to change.  

When Laura had arrived at the pool, there had been no one there except Peter, who was already swimming laps.  It had been a very long time since she’d seen him in nothing but swimming trunks, and she couldn’t help but stare.  He was magnificent.  His long, clean strokes showed off the definition of his muscular arms and back, gleaming with water under the lights.  

The water had felt wonderful, relaxing and invigorating as they moved and worked their muscles.  Peter had gotten out of the pool first and, like Laura, took the opportunity to stand with a towel around his neck, watching and appreciating.  

After her last lap, they stepped carefully across the tile of the pool room and slowly eased themselves into the bubbling, steaming water.  They sat side by side, not touching except where one of Peter’s outstretched arms came in contact with the back of Laura’s damp hair.  For a few moments, neither spoke.  

Peter started to stroke Laura’s hair with the back of his fingers. Although he tried to seem unconscious of doing it, in fact, they were both exquisitely aware of what he was doing. Without looking at him, Laura softly tried to object.  

“Peter…”

He simply slid his arm behind her and gently but firmly pulled her next to him.  She melted into his side with a sigh as he rested his cheek against her head.  

“Just be here with me for a minute.”

Laura let herself believe that she could just enjoy his nearness and the feel of his bare skin for a few moments before he would take his arm from her and move away.  That transparent self-delusion allowed her to lose herself in this moment without fear that she would have to be the one to control herself.  

Of course, he didn’t let her go or move away.  Instead, he reached his free arm around to cup her chin and pull her lips to his.  He hadn’t been able to restrain himself and she was absolutely incapable of resisting. On some level, they’d both known when they decided to stop for the night that this would happen.  They’d wanted it to, even though it would complicate things. Their arms were instantly wrapped around one another as he pulled her into his lap and kissed her senseless. They were beyond thinking, able only to feel a vague danger behind a profound need that had them both breathless as they devoured one another’s mouths.  

Laura completely forgot that they were in a hotel, in full view of a security camera and anyone who happened to come in.  She kissed Peter with all the love and passion she felt for him, lust overwhelming her senses as she lifted herself off him long enough to straddle him, never breaking their kiss.  She sat moving her pelvis against his erection in the swirling, steaming water, then began to move one hand from his back across his shoulder, dimly intending to slip it between them to take him into her hand.  She was fully ready to draw him into her, right there in the hot tub.  

In the back of her mind, she laughed at herself. She’d purposely worn a one-piece swimsuit.  Bikinis were too overtly sexy, and their bottoms were too easily removed; she’d told herself that her simple black suit was a much better choice for the chaste friendship she and Peter were trying to have.  But this sultry, hungry grinding had always been more likely, and now she was determined to have him inside her, swimsuit or not.

Peter, however, reluctantly began to slow his kisses. He gradually backed off the pressure with which he was crushing her to him.  She moaned in protest and tried to resist, pulling him closer and kissing him with increased fervor.  But he persisted.  Eventually they sat, foreheads together, panting and trying to gain control of their desire.  

When they had caught their breaths a bit, Peter moved Laura off of him and set her down on the shelf-like bench under the water. He moved away from her.  

“You stay there,” he said, still a bit breathless but grinning apologetically.  

Laura was desperately conflicted.  She wanted him passionately, and knew that he wouldn’t take much convincing to let her do all the things she wanted to do to him. But that would only make it harder for them going forward.  

They gazed at eachother from their separate positions.  Both felt the same way.  Neither wanted to say the words that would mean they couldn’t give in to their desire, but neither wanted the inevitable consequences.  Finally, when their breathing had slowed and their ardor cooled somewhat, Peter spoke.

“Do I owe you an apology?”

Laura made a face.  “No, of course not.  I just wish it wasn’t so hard being around you and not touching you.”

“Is it?”

“You know it is.”

“Sunshine.”  The look on his face was pure proposition.

“Don’t, Peter.  I can’t say no to you.”

“Then say yes.  Just tonight.  This hotel is Vegas.  What happens here stays here.”

“That’s not how it works.  Not for me, with you.”  

She shook her head and began to climb out of the hot tub.  He followed. They used their towels to dry off as well as they could, and put on the t-shirts they’d worn over their swimsuits. Although Laura’s was oversized, Peter noticed that it barely covered the tops of her legs as he followed her from the pool area, down the hallway, and up the stairs to their third-floor rooms.

He kept following her into her room.  Without a word, she stepped aside to let him pass, then closed the door behind him.

“Peter…”  She sighed, trying one last time.

He moved to take her in his arms.  “Take a shower with me.  Let me make love to you.  You know how good we are together.  I want you.  I want this. And so do you.”

“I do want you, but it’s a bad idea,” Laura murmured, surrendering to the truth as she pulled his shirt up his torso.  

“Terrible,” he agreed, yanking it over his head and dropping it.  She lifted her arms while he pulled her T-shirt off, then dropped them as he slid the straps of her swimsuit from her shoulders and pulled it down her body to drop to the floor.  When he kissed her, the kiss was slow, soft, and deep.  The decision made, they could take as much time as their lust would allow. It took them a long time to make it into the shower.

It was a good thing they’d given themselves extra time to get to New York and get settled.  They had stayed an extra two days in Cleveland.

In her fourth week at SVU, Laura was still on a steep learning curve.  Lieutenant Benson was very different from Hank Voight, and the crimes they investigated were, in many ways, much more personal and devastating to the victims than those she’d worked in Intelligence.  She was learning a whole new set of interview skills, and a new way of approaching investigations.  The crimes the Intelligence unit had worked were usually about people protecting their illegal businesses.  In SVU, the crimes had much more complex motives.  

The squad stood or sat in the common area, studying the case board they’d been able to construct with what they knew so far. It was starting to come together. Everyone on the team had suggestions, theories, and insight to contribute, and the meeting was close to breaking up.

“We’ll re-interview the other students in the dorm who heard the fight, see if anyone heard two male voices in that room,” Olivia said to Barba, standing up and collecting her things from the table.  

Barba, sitting on the edge of the table, took the last swallow of his coffee.  “See if you can find the rest of the girl’s study group.  I still think they know more than they’re saying.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure how much that helps, given the timeline,” Laura said.  “We might do better looking for whoever walked her back to the dorm.”

Barba kept looking at Benson as he said to Laura, “Hush.  Adults are talking.”

He continued addressing Olivia with more instructions.

Laura saw red.  She was sure her mouth was hanging open in her humiliated rage, which only intensified as it sunk in what he had just said to her, in front of her Lieutenant and her squad.  Those who had been sitting scooted back their chairs and rose, moving to get to their various assignments.  

Carisi stepped close to her as they crossed the room to their desks.  “Don’t take that too seriously, he’s like that with everyone.  Barba’s… an acquired taste.”

She pretended to shrug it off, appreciating Carisi’s friendly words, but she was too furious to speak.  Had she been alone, she would have burst into hot, angry tears.  She grabbed her jacket, grateful that she and Fin were leaving the squad room before she said or did something she’d regret.  Although no one had seemed to react, which supported what Carisi had said, she was still embarrassed and very, very angry.  I don’t care who the fuck he is, or how much of an asshole he is to everyone else. Nobody gets to speak to me like that.

It was still light outside when Fin and Parker finished their interviews on campus.  Laura was calmer, having had a few hours to think about what Barba had said, but still by no means over it.  It was fairly early.  He would probably still be in his office... 

Hearing her knock, Rafael looked up from some papers he'd picked up from his desktop. "Detective?" Laura took a breath and said, "With all due respect, Mr. Barba, I need to ask you not to do that again." "Do what?" He was only half listening, already beginning to read the papers in his hand. "Speak to me the way you did today.  It’s demeaning to me and, frankly, even more so to you.  I don’t expect you to listen to me, I don’t even need you to acknowledge me. But if you do speak to me, please do it with common courtesy." He looked up in some surprise.  “Really? The newest detective in SVU is standing in my office calling me out.”

“Apparently.”

He briefly considered being offended by the audacity of this new detective.  But he liked audacity.  Besides that, he could see that she was deeply angry.  He didn’t even know what he’d said to piss her off, but he knew himself well enough to know it was entirely possible that, whatever it was, it had been over the line.  He appreciated the effort she must be making to be as respectful and polite as she was, given that he could tell she wanted to throttle him.  He was intrigued.   "And you thought you should come here and set me straight." "Not at all.  Carisi says you talk to everyone like that.  Fine with me. I don’t care how you talk to everyone else.  But I am a woman in what is still very much a man’s world.  I can’t afford to let anyone talk down to me.”

“I see.  In that case, I apologize.  I meant no disrespect.”

“To be honest, it's mostly that it was so dickish. I'd like to think you're not a dick."

He fought a grin. “And now you’re standing in my office calling me a dick.”

“To be precise, I called your behavior dickish.  And I said I think you’re not a dick.”

Rafael looked at her for a long moment, waiting for her to crack a smile.  She didn’t.

“And now, if I don’t do as you ask, I’ll be proving to you that I am a dick.  Well played.”

She didn’t respond.  This woman was genuinely pissed, and not at all charmed by his attempt at a joke.

“I’m sorry.  It won’t happen again,” he said, as sincerely as he could manage under these strange circumstances.

"Thank you." She said, a note of genuine gratitude in her voice and her expression entirely serious. As she walked out, closing the door behind her, she hoped she hadn't just made a big mistake.  But she didn’t think so.  He was having trouble keeping a straight face.  He could have been amused by her, which would piss her off.  But she was very good at reading people, and what she was getting from him was different.  She thought he actually respected that she’d stood up to him.  And she definitely felt better He stared at the door after she was gone, a wide smile on his face.  He shook his head and began to laugh.  He was still laughing when he walked around his desk and sat down. This conversation had actually been pretty unflattering to him.  But he couldn’t stop laughing nonetheless.  Detective Laura Parker had chutzpah. She wasn't the least bit in awe of him.  In fact, she had been perfectly politic as she basically called him a dick to his face.  And since she was safely unavailable, he found himself looking forward to working with her.

[sixnna-contixllo]

Squigly's Birthday Out

When Squigly wakes up, the first thing she is treated to is a lovely handmade breakfast made by Simon and Daniel, both of whom present her the breakfast covered in a dusting of flour. The breakfast consists of fresh blueberry crepes served in a rich and delicate cream and shaved dark chocolate, served alongside a cup of Squigly’s favorite oolong tea with a careful mixture of honey and spices. On the tray is a handmade card, decorated by the little artist himself, and signed lovingly by each member of the family- Simon, Selene, Roberto, Leviathan, and Daniel. Inside the card reads.

“Happy birthday, Squigly! We hope we can make today wonderful for you! Enjoy your breakfast and get ready for what we got planned for you!”

While Squigly eats, Simon happily cuddles on his mother’s lap, the little bomb wrapping his arms around her as he snuggles into her. He loves getting to celebrate birthdays, how much fun they are, how happy they are when they celebrate together. Seeing his mother happy and smiling makes him so happy too, and when she enjoys what he and his father made makes it even better.

After breakfast, and everything is cleaned up, Daniel escorts Squigly to the bathroom, ready to give her the second treat of the day. Inside the bathroom, Daniel was gone above and beyond to make an absolutely superb bubble bath. Everything has been given plenty of attention, from the pink and white mountains of bubble foam swirling on the bubbling steaming water that give off sweet aromas of high-end perfume to the variety of candles and incense that twinkle in the dim room. Music pipes softly from the radio, a glass of relaxing red wine and a small plate of chocolates-in a heart-shaped box no less- sit aside magazines, books, and an awaiting neck pillow for Squigly to slip herself into and enjoy a nice rest.

And, as a special treat, Daniel gives Squigly what he describes as a “massage he picked up from reading a book on Eastern traditions” for a history part he wants to record. The massage involves warm oil, hot stones, and a special trick that involves sending soothing vibrations across the body to ease muscle joints. It’s nothing lewd, rather, Daniel takes his time to ensure he does everything right, from adding just the right amount of hot stones to balance soothing heat, to gently moving her arms and legs as she relaxes, making sure not to mess a single step up while his lover relaxes in her bath.

After the soothing bath, everyone gets ready to head out shopping. Selene would explain that, since it was kind of hard to pick out a single gift for her that they didn’t know if she had, they thought it would be a nice trip to take her to the shops and malls and let her pick out whatever she wishes. Daniel, however, almost mention something else but quickly stops himself before saying anything else.

At the mall, Squigly is taken through all sorts of shops and boutiques- bookstores, music shops, fashionwear of all varieties and styles, even a store that caters exclusively to retro items. Whatever she wants, be it clothes, books, a new radio, anything she desires the family makes sure she’ll receive. Money is no object for her, and whatever she wants, she will get. It’s not spoiling her, but rather letting her know that she is worthy of that type of care.

After the mall, with whatever Squigly got in bags and boxes, the Contiellos feel a bit hungry, so they decide to head to a little café and bakery just by the hotel, for a light lunch. There, among sandwiches, meats, pastas, and pastries, everyone orders a delicious lunch, enjoying some good old fashioned conversation and banter as any family would do, Simon happily drawing on the placemat with his always ready crayons as he cuddled in Daniel’s lap, to Roberto tells Daniel a story about when Squigly was younger, she once ate almost a whole cake and spent the rest of her birthday in bed, wiping icing off her face as she dealt with a stomach ache. This makes Squigly blush, and just as any woman would do, young or old, hides her face as her father relates such a story-although she can’t help but giggle at the silly thought of her at the age of 7, wiping buttercream from her cheeks as she sang Happy Birthday.

They come back to the house, and setting everything down, Leviathan reminds them that it is now 2:30, and they “must be getting ready if they’re to make it to 4:30.” At these words, everyone starts to get changed- although, Squigly doesn’t know why. Everyone starts to get showered and changed into more formal wear- suits, a formal dress, even Simon gets a little bath and polish with a little bowtie! Through all this, Squigly goes the flow, albeit a bit confused, as everyone just tells her it’s a surprise. Leviathan even answers with just a chuckle and a promise that he has be sworn to keep the secret just that- a secret, and she’ll find out soon.

At 3:45, everyone heads out, decked out in fancy formal wear. Daniel’s arm linked around Squigly’s, wearing a formal jacket that was kinda itchy in some spots but since Squigly said he looked handsome in kept it, his one arm gingerly cradling Simon, who was all bundled up in a white scarf to keep warm, Selene and Roberto behind them, with Leviathan keeping a close eye through Squigly’s head. The afternoon air was cool, kissed with the slowly setting sun to streak the endless ocean of blue above into a crimson and orange miasma. Past the crowd of people, be they those with four arms with one girl on each arm to the funky looking guys with the sunglasses and bags of money, Squigly is held close, not alone, but kept walking alongside her family, who eagerly thrill her with hints and stories of what her surprise would be. Simon draws a little picture to show her a big looking room, Selene and Roberto slyly suggest that perhaps it’ll be “much too late” to head back home, and Daniel could only blush and chuckle, kissing her cheek as she racks her brain to figure it out

Then, after hopping a train- the 4:30 Meridian Area Rapid- the Contiellos find themselves at their destination. Outside the gates of the Contiello Estate. The golden courtyard gates draped in streamers and balloons, limos and sports cars driven by flashy bachelors and old money line the circled drive leading to the massive opera house, which since restoration, has transformed into a breathing center of art, music, and celebration. The air is filled with music, swing jazz or the newest piece performed by in-house artists, laughter, cheering, the clinking of cocktail glasses. It’s a gala event- held by the Meridian Restoration Society, to display the walls and halls with memories of pre-Renoir tradition, music, songs and art.

To the Contiellos, it’s a dream from the past, molded and fixed here in plain sight. And, if you could see the look on Squigly’s face, she’d be flushed seven shades of purple how excited she was.

The evening is compromised of heading to the great hall, where tables stand lifted above a dance floor to watch couples and troupes dance to the melody of a 20-piece band. Here, the Contiellos rest, order some house wine, and enjoy the atmosphere. Roberto says this reminds him of when he first took Selene on their first date, with Leviathan playfully adding some commentary to his old master’s story, while Simon and Daniel busily tend to Squigly, delighting her with questions on how she likes it and what she wants to do first, which if they know Squigly, is enough to make her fluster like royalty.

Then, the family heads to the banquet hall, where they are served a banquet of epic proportions- lobster, steak, fresh cut roasts, exotic seafood imported from high-end shop, sushi, and poultry, as well as a dessert table of cakes, pastries, chocolates, and even a wine tasting table to taste old cultural flavors mixed with new broader flavors. The dinner hall is filled with lively conversation, even more so at the table where the Contiellos sit, where among plates of delicious food, they laugh and joke and talk, happy not to be here itself, but with those they care about.

Then, for Squigly’s final gift of the night- what would going to an opera house be without, you know, an opera? Escorted to a VIP booth looking above the stage, the Contiellos watch a show performed by some of the most up and coming actors and thespians of Canopy Kingdom. The booming orchestra fills the air, the sound of sopranos and baritones roll through the aisles, and the light flicker dramatically, as if to show the Contiellos the taste of opera they have helped to build. Daniel sits on a comfy couch with Squigly nuzzled to him, his jacket draped over her shoulder with Simon cuddled between them, Selene and Roberto on another couch, chuckling softly as they watch their family enjoy the show while nuzzling in each other’s arms.

After the thundering applause has ended, Squigly wonders what time they will be home- it is almost midnight, and do the trains even run, she wonders? But to this, Daniel smiles warmly and explains what the plan is. You see, he booked a suite here to stay a night and has sent their clothes over early in the day by courier from the opera house- thus, all they have to do is go to their suite, book in, change and relax.

And so, journeying through gilded halls and crowded rooms, the Contiellos ascend in a lift to the upper halls, to a suite waiting with their name marked on by a silver paper. In their suite, their suitcases lay neat on the bed, neon lights from the city outside pour in through the patio door, illuminating in shades of purple, white and gold a bucket of ice with fresh champagne and a small white box on the guest table. After everyone is changed to more casual attire, Simon eagerly fetches the little white box from the table and opens it for his mother to see.

Inside is a delicious, decadent, rich chocolate cake, topped with a layer of creamy white chocolate frosting, and topped with a colorful array of chocolate-dipped cherries and blueberries. In the middle of the cake, written in beautiful cursive in blue letters surrounding a small circle of candles that illuminate with a soft purple flame are the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”.

Then, just as Squigly would look over the cake, someone shuts the lights off, bathing the room in the glow of only the candles and the neon lights spilling in. Slowly, starting with Leviathan, then Roberto, then Selene, and then Daniel, everyone begins to sing to her. Even Simon, who obviously is unable to sing, happily sways and dances to the song, spinning and twirling adorably as everyone gathers in song.

“Happy Birthday to You~! Happy Birthday to You~! Happy Birthday, dear Squigly~! Happy Birthday…to You~!”

As each candle slowly flickers as they are blown out, the darkness of the room is contrasted by the sound of cheering and laughter, even without light the room is filled with warmth. When the lights are flicked back on, and everyone has finished lavishing Squigly with attention and hugs, it’s time to relax.

The TV plays an old classic movie on the late channel. The bottle of champagne is popped, Daniel cuts the cake, and everyone enjoys a delicious dessert. The fresh linens seem the most welcoming thing of all, as everyone slips comfortably under the warmth of the sheets, to fall back against the soft pillows after such a day of walking and running around. Daniel pulls the blankets up over Squigly and Simon, gingerly tucking the sheet into the bed to make it nice and cozy, before draping his arm lovingly around them as they snuggle together.

As the night goes on, and the neon lights seem to brighten as they spill into the suite, the air of drowsiness and peaceful calm washes over them. Selene and Roberto both wish their daughter, grandson, and son-in-law a wonderful night, before curling up together to fall into a deep comfortable sleep. Simon stretches his little arms and legs, nuzzling his mother and father happily when they give him his good night kisses and hugs, nestling into his little nook to fall asleep, his fuse twinkling like starlight out the window as he falls fast asleep. Leviathan bows his head, and wishes them all a good night’s rest before curling his tail around them to rest his head on his mistress’s shoulder, leaving only Squigly and Daniel awake.

Just before Daniel falls asleep, he leans over and presses his lips deeply to Squigly’s. The taste of blueberry, chocolate and champagne mingle with the scent of her perfume as their lips melt and press together. He could never tire of kissing her, of just being able to hold her like this, and he tells her this, his voice soft and warm, adoring and gentle. He says that he loves her, that he loves them more than anything in the world, and even if he didn’t love them, he would want nothing more than to love them forever. He hoped they had made today absolutely amazing for her, their undead darling, and that if they could, they would make everyday as wonderful as could be for her.

She’s their opera singer after all, the best thing to ever happen to them. And she deserves nothing less.

And, as Squigly would slowly begin to fall asleep, she would feel Daniel’s hands gingerly run through her hair, rolling through the tasseled blue curls of her done-up hair back and forth oh so slowly, his arms warm and strong, protecting her and Simon as they curl up in bed. His voice gently hums, although it’s not as spellbinding as anything the Contiellos could sing, but echoing with love and care for Squigly, humming Happy Birthday into her ear as he holds her tight, letting the blankets fall and melt over her until the singer is buried in a mixture of his arms and the linens. Just before her eyes close, Daniel whispers into her ear once more.

“Good night, Squigly~. I love you more than anything in this world~.”

As Squigly would wake up the next morning, there would be a smell of fresh Belgian waffles being made at the little kitchenette and fresh coffee being made, the opera house suite filled with the melody of music, and sunlight streaming in through the frost-tinted windows. Simon and Daniel happily work at the kitchenette, flipping waffles or carefully pouring glasses of juice, Selene and Roberto nuzzle up in their robes to listen to the radio as they enjoy a cup of cappuccinos, and Leviathan purrs comfortably, fixing Squigly’s pillow as he curls around her, smiling warmly at his host as her eyes flutter awake.

Hey, just because it’s not her birthday, doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve star treatment, right?  

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

Never Caught A Feeling This Hard

request: Can you write a Snape x hufflepuff student scenario when idk(female) reader hates him and she just tries to ignore his attitude but when he once again takes points from her house, she just snaps at him. And she leaves the classroom and tries to ignore him as long as possible. Please make it really angsty and sad cause I love having my heart broken. But a fluffy ending x3 if you're comfortable I'd appreciate a heated kiss but if you're not then a confession from both parties is ok☆

Summary: while your almost an expert at potions, your friend Y/F/N isnt that bright with the subject. When Professor Snape yells at your friend and takes points away from their house, you being a Y/H, stand up to Snape and tell him off. Flabberghasted at your outburst, he only follows you with his eyes as you storm out of the classroom. While Y/F/N thanks you, they say Snape requested to see you. Embarrassed at your show in front of the class, you refuse to see him and change your seat to the back with Y/F/N. When Yule Ball comes around, your last one ever at Hogwarts, Snape decides its the right time to approach you. Feelings are revealed with angst but happy ending.

note: yuhh another posty lyric, this was a request so dont hesitate to send some in! im sorry this is a bit late, i got a summer sickness/cold and ive slept the entire day away. anyways, enjoy!

warnings: ill come back to this when im done, like one curse word and teacher x student relationship

6-28-18

-

Grabbing your potions textbook, you and Y/F/N made ways to Professor Snape’s classroom. Throughout your years, even before coming to Hogwarts, potions had become your best subject and some even told you that you were better than Hermione. She had even been amazed at your brewing skills.

You friend Y/F/N, on the other hand, wasn’t as gifted with potions as you were. However, her charming skills superb. But with Snape being such a hard-ass teacher, it was tough to get help or even a ‘good job’ from the man.

Heading into the classroom, you and Y/F/N sat up front as always. You had always liked sitting front and center, wanting to show you teachers you were there to learn. You assumed it was because you were a Y/H.

Snape swiftly walked into the classroom, shutting the windows behind him. Today was like any other day, except he mentioned the day before that your class would be learning a tougher potion; Veritaserum.

Walking up to the front of the class, everyone got quiet. Snape nodded, ”if you listen carefully to today’s lesson. . .I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

At that, you let out a snort of laughter. Snape met your eyes and a small smile formed, gone as quick as it appeared. The professor then turned his attention to the class, telling them what to grab and to open their textbook pages to 394.

Glancing to Y/F/N, you smiled, “I’ll get your book ready and you can get both of us ingredients, yeah?” They nodded, writing down the ingredients and rushing off to get them.

Coming back, you grabbed your own ingredients from your friends shared part of the table. “Thanks for getting them Y/F/N,” you said, making them nod to you.

Reading the book, you set your cauldron to the required heat and crushed some ingredients together. After waiting a few minutes, you put in the materials and stirred, waiting for the potion to turn green. You noticed Snape walk past your table and tap against a vile of liquid, then tapping your arm. Letting out an “ahh,” you put the vile in.

Next was kind of a blur. A tiny explosion next to you had occurred and the sound hurt your ear. Y/F/N laid on the floor, rubbing their head. “Hey,” you said, rushing to their side, “you ok?” They nodded, “yeah. . .I don’t know why that happened?”

You pulled them up to their chair again, “doesn’t matter as long as you-”

Snape had slammed his hands on the desk, “what the hell were you thinking?”

You friend retreated back, “I-I’m sorry sir, I h-honestly don’t k-know what I did wrong.”

The professor scoffed, “of course you didn’t, you ignorant child. 10 points from Ravenclaw.”

You scowled, “sir! They made an honest mistake, we all do! Any other student here would have made the same mistake, so leave them alone. You never have any consideration for any os us; we are learning this class, not experts. Some excel more than others, but we all are experiencing this for the first time. So please sir, lay off.”

With that, you grabbed your bag and shuffled out of the room, leaving a wake of wide eyes behind you. Snape followed your figure with his eyes, unable to believe that you, his favorite student, had just caused a scene by picking a fight with him. He grumbled when you left, “get back to work.”

After your outburst at your favorite professor, you decided to head back to the Y/H commonroom. You failed to notice that class had ended and Y/F/N walked into the room. “Hey,” they started, “I’m not supposed to be in here but thanks for sticking up to Snape. I appreciate it. . .but he told me to tell you that he wants to see you.”

You nodded, “right, well. .no probelm, Y/F/N. He was being so out of line. Though I’m not sure if I want to face him. Thanks for telling me, though.” They nodded their head and walked out, going to their next class. You assumed you should get to class, too.

The next day, you had potions first which made you happy but also very gloomy. You were getting the worst class over and done with, but first of the day? Pass. Heading into class, you grab Y/F/N’s hand and drag them to the way back before Professor Snape walks inside. Pushing your hair to the side, you hide your face and rest a hand on the side of your head when Snape walks by you.

You and him did not look at one another the entire class, only focusing on your new potion to make;  Amortentia the love potion. You and Y/F/N already knew it was an easy class, having made the potion aside from class before.

You both did everything right and Snape added 5 points to each of your houses for having been done first. You didn’t give the professor a second glance, just nodding at his words of encouragement. Y/F/N gave you a small smile, but continued to write down notes for a reminder of what different potions consist.

Finally, it was the night of the Yule Ball, your last one ever. Cedric Diggory asked you to be his date and of course you said yes. Grabbing Y/F/N and some other Y/H pals, you wandered through Diagon Alley and past Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, waving to Fred and George from outside. They waved for you to come inside and you sighed but smiled.

The twins went up to both sides of your face, each giving you a kiss on the cheek, “hello gorgeous!” You laughed, “hello, hello. Now what do you hooligans want?”

Fred handed you a bottle of Amortentia as him and George talked, “a bottle of love,” George then whispered, “for Professor Snape.”

You jumped back and let out a fake laugh, “ha! As if. . .seriously though, what do you want?”

The twins looked to one another then back at you, “no joke, little lady. We’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Just then, Ron came up to the brothers and you on the stairs, “how much for this?”

Fred and George looked at the item, “5 gallons.”

Ron chuckled, “how much for me?”

With that, the two taller boys nodded again, “5 gallons.”

You let out a laugh as Ron looked offended, “Y/N! But, I’m your brother.”

Fred and George shrugged, “10 gallons.” The twins then walked off, leaving Ron confused and you staring at the love potion in the bottle.

Getting your dress, you decided on a long red sleeveless dress which had light ruffles at the bottom and small parkles over it. There was a bow that went across the middle and you fell in love.

It seemed different putting it on, having the potion given by your favorite twins in your bag. You pulled it out and sniffed it, noticing it smelled like Professor Snape; bitterness and old shoes with a spiff of charcoal. Appealing, really.

Walking into the ball with Cedric, he hooked his arm with yours. You smiled at each other and he kissed the top of your head like a good friend would. Throughout the night, you both stayed together until you went off to go to the bathroom. However, before you could reach the bathroom, a hand pulled you behind a large column.

You gasped and your eyes met anothers; Severus Snape’s. You furrowed your brows, “professor? What?”

Snape pulled at your waist and rested a hand at the side of your head, “you. . .pest! You’ve infested my head with images and thoughts of you, just you, and I cannot stop.”

Your eyes squinted at Snape’s words, “what the hell! Wha - what do you mean. . .Severus?”

The professor’s eyes wandered along your face, stopping at your lips, “I. .I love you. And you’re my student. Stay after the party, I want to see you again.” With that, he walked away and left you by the column. You headed back to your table with Cedric and spent the night with him until he decided to head to bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. . .thank you for being my date,” Cedric said, making you smile.

You gave a bright smile as you kissed his cheek, “thank you for asking me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Every person had left by now, Professor McGonagall saying her goodnights to you. Smiling, you saw Snape appear out of the shadows, “may I have this dance?”

You nodded, “of course.” Snape offered his hand and you accepted it, standing up and resting a hand on his shoulder and his on your waist. Your other hands joined together, dancing together.

After dancing to the sound of nothing, you both stood by the window, looking out among the land of Hogwarts. You smiled at Severus, “it’s a perfect night. . .for us.”

Snape gripped your waist, kissing your cheek lovingly, “it is, indeed. I wish we could have this. . .forever.”

You looked up at him, glancing at his lips, “we can. When I graduate, it won’t matter.”

He rubbed his thumb along your waist that was covered by the dress, “you could have someone your age, who you desire.”

Putting a hand to his cheek, you shifted his face towards yours, “you are all I desire, Severus. Only you.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips with his, “if that is what you desire, so be it.”

[trcelyneart]

@saeyoungweek Day 4: Cars.

This is a WIP of a Need For Speed!AU one shot I'm working on. It's not finished yet, but here's the beginning!

-----

Luciel took long gulps from his lukewarm water bottle, leaning against the closed door of his car. The heat was sweltering, summer days becoming sultry with the cloudless sky, leaving him no chance of finding shelter from the burning sun. At least they were going to drive along the coast, where the marine winds brought some freshness and a nice smell of iodine. And his baby car was built to resist such weather, with an air conditioning to die for. The hardest part was to actually get out.

 The rules were simple. A two-week long race, from Incheon to Busan, with one race of thirty five kilometres each day. Only the best could participate, other pilots finding themselves betting high amounts of money on who would win by the end of it. He knew he was in the winners forecast, for 707 was almost a legend in the underground racing world, with his powerful Lamborghini Murciélago LP 640 he had upgraded and pimped himself – adding a large yellow strip, going from the middle of the hood to the roof and the rear, over the bright red steel - to become an asphalt killing machine. With a bit more effort and rocket science, he’d probably make it able to fly someday.

 He capped the bottle and licked his lips, his attention drawn to a familiar roaring sound to his right.

Well, what a surprise.

Or maybe not, actually.

How could he have even thought she would not participate? He turned his head, letting his gaze glide along the smooth lines of the white Koenigsegg Agera R. Fifteen copies sold throughout the world, 960CH, body made of carbon fiber and Kevlar, chassis made of the same materials plus aluminium, top speed nearing 400km/h. A racing monster. Even his baby which ranked among the most powerful cars looked like an entry-level model comparing to this godsend hypercar.

And well, pilots tended to match their cars, right? He was sure there was a saying of the sort.

 MC – or so was her pilot name - got out of her car in all her glory, lifting her sunglasses to the top of her head, locking her bangs away from her sweaty forehead. He let his gaze wander on her white, close-fitting strap stop, trying his best to ignore the wet spots on the fabric due to her perspiration, then her short shorts, along her gorgeous legs to her plum Dr.Martens. Her long brown hair was tied into a tight ponytail, its ends brushing the small of her back. He felt guilty for checking her out like this, but hey, if she had decided to wear such revealing clothes, he had to make the most of it. It wasn’t like she didn’t look divine in any outfit she wore, anyway.

         She had started racing six months before. She had simply showed up on one cold December night, clad in her signature plum Dr.Martens, black skinny jeans and a superb leather jacket with fake fur, claiming she wanted to race as well. The organisers had first laughed her off – the underground racing world, like the official one, did not leave a lot of place for women except for the window-dressing girls hired to help with the bets and signal the start of the races – and she had simply raised an eyebrow at them, not losing her composure. They surely had not liked how unshaken she had seemed, and Luciel had found himself snorting at their dumbstruck reactions. Her cool-headedness had been admirable. A few minutes after she had walked away, when the organisers had been sure this joke of a rich-looking girl was gone, she had barged into the crowd with her beast of a car, her wheels screeching and fuming as she drifted to stop right in front of Vanderwood 3rd, who had been in charge of the race that night. The black window had slowly rolled down, and she had rested her elbow on the ledge without a word. Luciel clearly remembered the silent exchange going on between them, MC lifting her eyebrow at them again, them holding her stare, until they had given up with a sigh and stepped aside to let her go to the starting line.

 And not only had she participated that night, but she had also won.

 That night, 707 had lost his first race in a long, very long while. After that, she kept on winning against him, overtaking him by a hair’s breadth every single time. The king of the road had been defeated to let a queen arise. No, not a queen. A goddess.

 To be fairly honest, the more he raced against her, the more exciting it got. In every sense of the term. Every race was a shot of adrenaline, doping his will to win fairly and with grandiosity; he wanted to conquer his throne back, and his rival made it harder and funnier each day that passed. His curiosity had slowly grown, replacing his pleasantly surprised reaction when she had got out of her car and gasped happily when a shocked Vanderwood had announced that she had been the winner. MC was an interesting person, never acting haughty despite her obvious wealthy background, but quick to put people in their place whenever they disregarded her.

Luciel highly respected her. Thanks to her, he had found pleasure in racing again. She was a more than worthy opponent.

And he also had a huge crush on her.

So yeah, watching her with so few clothing made his throat drier than it already was, and he muttered a small prayer as he fidgeted with the silver cross hanging on his neck in hope to be forgiven for checking her out so shamelessly. She spoke with a couple of people, smiling happily at them, until she glanced at him. Her smile grew larger and she waved at him, visibly glad her rival was there too. He waved back at her with less enthusiasm, too busy trying to kick his impure thoughts out of his brain to manage to concentrate fully on the gesture. She locked her car and walked to him, letting the tip of her fingers brush on the scorching hood of his until she stood next to him.

“Fancy seeing you here.” She said with a playful grin.

“I could say the same.” He replied, mirroring her expression.

“At least you’ll make this race more entertaining. It’s funnier when I get to compete against you.” She chuckled.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t have participated if I hadn’t been there?” Luciel teased.

She snatched his water bottle and took a few gulps before smiling at him “707, darling, don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re just making it more enjoyable.”

He couldn’t help but stare at her lips as she licked them to catch the drops that had leaked when he snorted “Glad to be your special someone.”

She held the bottle back to him and pointed back at the Agera with her thumb “I guess you could say that. Anyway, I gotta to get ready. Hope you’re gonna give all you have, 707. See you later!”

 She winked at him then turned around and left without looking back, only to be soon surrounded in a small crowd of people. Luciel sighed and drank what was left in the bottle, before tossing it into the nearest bin.

 He was not just going to give everything he had, he was going to blow her. Away of course.

 --

 The sun had already set, the sky turning into vivid shades of red and pink. Waves were crashing loudly against the rocks a few meters below the road. Luciel stopped his car right in front of the makeshift starting line and got out, leaning an arm on the roof, patting it gently as if it were his precious pet. He had won the qualifiers, which consisted in a one-by-one time-trial on the route they’d take that evening. Of course, they had not closed the road; the race was unofficial and illegal, like everything related to the underground racing world. It made it more dangerous and exciting.

 MC, unexpectedly, would start on third position. She had lost five precious seconds when she had to swerve to avoid a van, and had not managed to catch up afterwards. He had to use this advantage and distance her as fast as possible. He hoped he had enough nitro to manage to do that.

The Agera came in sight and stopped a few meters behind on his right, and she got out as well. He turned to glance at her, and when their eyes met, she finger gunned at him with an impish grin. He stuck his tongue out at her, before bursting into giggles. He could not deny that there was some kind of tension between them, mostly sexual, but also some kind of mutual understanding. They were like the two popular kids competing against each other, unable to focus on anyone else but the other, but also being secretly friends. They played a game. A dangerous one. One miscalculation, and their cars would be reduced to dust in less time they’d need to realise their mistake.

 But playing with death was his most favourite part of the game. It made him feel alive.

 Vanderwood walked to the middle of the road and waited for the eight pilots to be ready. They checked their watch, then pulled out a gun and fired a distress flare high in the sky. A few seconds later, other flares started shining along the road, signalling that everything was ready and that the coast was clear – in other words, that the cops were not there. Yet. Seven watched closely, and smiled to himself when all the lights had been fired. Vanderwood announced that the race was about to start, and all pilot got into their cars. A symphony of roaring engines came to Luciel’s ears, and he rolled his window down to enjoy the sounds his baby car made. He could also hear the very distinctive sound of the Agera.

 He hummed a random tune as his fingers hovered over the screen of his radio, searching for a nice song that could make a nice badass OST for the race. Something that would put him in a good mood. His eyes stopped on a particular song.

 The Resist Stance – Bad Religion

Perfect.

 As soon as the first guitar riffs echoed loudly around his ears and out of the car, he faintly shook his head in rhythm with the music. Vanderwood lifted their hand high.

He placed his foot over the pedal, his thumb rubbing the button of the handbrake and his hand ready to release it.

 The Agera flashed its lights behind him. He glanced at his right wing mirror.

 MC blew him a kiss.

 He smirked.

 Vanderwood dropped their arm. Luciel barely heard their shout between the screeching of the wheels and the thundering of the machines.

[sssshhhthefilmsabouttostart]

The best and worst films of 2018

If after watching 112 films teaches you anything, it's that Hollywood will continue to pump out the franchise blockbusters - and audiences will still hand over their cash to see them, no matter how below average or unoriginal they may be.

Cinematically, 2018 was a year that marked the final screen appearances for both Robert Redford (’The Old Man and the Gun’) and Daniel Day-Lewis (’Phantom Thread’), heralded Bradley Cooper’s impressive directorial debut (’A Star Is Born), served up an innovative high-tech thriller (’Searching’) and bestowed the most gob-smacking showdown involving MCU’s greatest heroes and villains (’Avengers: Infinity War’).

It was also a very good year for Netflix loyalists who saw the company release a succession of well received films including ’Annihilation,’ ‘Roma,’ and ‘The Ballad of Buster Scruggs.’

Despite Dirty Harry’s memorable comment that “opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got one,” the films that have made this year’s ‘best list’ have been selected on the basis of the lasting impression they have left on this viewer after the lights have come up and the curtain’s been drawn.

So, what succeeded and what failed?

Ladies and gentlemen, may we please offer for your consideration…

50. THE OLD MAN AND THE GUN

49. INCREDIBLES 2

48. FILM STARS DON’T DIE IN LIVERPOOL

47. THE POST

46. CHAPPAQUIDDICK

45. RED SPARROW

44. GAME NIGHT

43. DEADPOOL 2

42. BOY ERASED

41. WIDOWS

40. STRONGER     

39. MOLLY’S GAME

38. FAHRENHEIT 11/9  

37. THE DARKEST HOUR

36. FIRST REFORMED

35. A STAR IS BORN

34. ISLE OF DOGS

33. BREATH

32. THE WIFE

31. READY PLAYER ONE

30. BLACK PANTHER

29. WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOUR

28. BRIGSBY BEAR

27. LADY BIRD

26. SICARIO: DAY OF THE SOLDADO

25. BEAUTIFUL BOY

24. PHANTOM THREAD

23. GHOST STORIES

22. FIRST MAN

21. TULLY

20. I, TONYA

19. SUSPIRIA

18. RBG 

17. THE FAVOURITE

16. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY 

15. MANDY

14. BRAWL IN CELL BLOCK 99 

13. SEARCHING 

12. A QUIET PLACE

11. BLACKKKLANSMAN

10. SWEET COUNTRY

The Australian ‘western’ is a genre all its own, and ‘Sweet Country’ was the finest example of its type. Both Warwick Thornton's direction and Dylan Rivers’ cinematography was outstanding, as were all of the lead acting performances. Shot in both Central and South Australia, ‘Sweet Country’ transcended the genre’s tropes to tell us a quintessentially Australian story, albeit a bloody, brutal and tragic one. 

9. VICE

As with his previous film ‘The Big Short,’ writer/director Adam McKay set aside the clean, colourful look of his comedies (’Anchorman,’ ‘Step Brothers’) in favour of a washed-out, edgy look, with the frequent use of hand-held cameras. The entire ensemble - including Steve Carell, Sam Rockwell and Amy Adams - were all impressive but it was Christian Bale’s skilful and highly effective portrayal of former VP Dick Cheney that deservedly received the kudos from critics everywhere. 

8. THE ENDLESS

Indie filmmakers Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, wrote, directed and starred in this terrific slow burner about two brothers who decide to revisit their childhood UFO death cult for some closure. Initially, the film’s daunting atmosphere gave the impression that this horror/sci-fi would follow the usual story ‘beats’ that accompany the genre. But after some mind-bending twists, ‘The Endless’ soon switched from being about a crazed cult into something else!

7. SPIDER-MAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE

It’s no secret that Sony’s last few attempts with the character of Spider-Man have been underwhelming to say the least. However, this rousingly entertaining superhero adventure was easily 2018′s most unexpected surprise. The film’s impressive animation was beautiful, fluid and unique, whilst the storyline was both compelling and genuinely funny. What can we say - we finally got the ‘Spider-Man’ movie everybody wanted. It’s OK Sony, we now forgive you for ‘The Emoji Movie.’

6. THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

Sadly robbed of the Best Picture gong at last year’s Academy Awards, this third movie from award-winning playwright Martin McDonagh (‘In Bruges,’ ‘Seven Psychopaths’) was a dramedy that started with cleverness and wit before opening up into something truthfully human. McDonagh’s screenplay was so good that every single cast member, no matter how little their screen time, gave a great performance.

5. AMERICAN ANIMALS

In this true-crime movie, four bright and well-off college students in Kentucky plot to steal some rare books from their university's Special Collections Library in a misguided quest for personal glory. Written and directed by Bart Layton, ‘American Animals’ cleverly woven script was narrated by the heist's actual participants, bringing a fascinating layer to the proceedings as well as a connection between the characters and audience.

4. AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR

It may have been the most intense, complex and stirring MCU film yet, but it was as lean as epics get, with none of its nearly two-and-a-half-hour running time feeling wasted. While the many characters and intersecting plots may have confused casual viewers (it’s assumed audiences are now familiar with all that's come before), for fans, it was one mind-blowing moment after another.

3. MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - FALLOUT

Who would have thought that a 20+ year franchise would have been able to deliver one of the most exciting and visceral action films in recent memory? ‘Fallout’ saw the stepping up of both the action and the stakes, with the personal screws tightened on Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and the horrible consequences for failure. Love him or hate him, Cruise's performance was lean and focused, whilst Christopher MacQuarrie’s direction was effective and thrilling, always hitting every action beat - dead centre.

2. YOU WERE NEVER REALLY HERE

Director Lynne Ramsay’s bleak yet effective thriller about a broken and tormented ex-military vigilante (Joaquin Phoenix), who makes a living rescuing kidnapped girls and making the perpetrators violently pay with a hammer, was a dark and twisting journey into one man’s soul. Ramsay's filmmaking powers and script, combined with Phoenix's committed, unadorned performance and Johnny Greenwood's absolutely superb soundtrack, easily delivered one of this year’s most standout movies.

1. HEREDITARY

Although it polarised audiences everywhere, ‘Hereditary’ was a refreshing example of a studio (A24) subverting expectations and the perfect showcase of what horror is capable of when taken seriously.

Even as the film ventured into territory familiar to its genre, writer/director Ari Aster skillfully orchestrated the tension into something that felt like a nightmare straight from hell. What begins as a drama about a family tearing apart with grief, slowly descends into madness and the supernatural. 

Rather than rely on a ‘conveyor belt’ of jump scares strung together with a derivative story which exists purely as a vehicle to deliver those jump scares, ‘Hereditary’ put family drama at the forefront and milked every ounce of dread from the hideous realities of familial cohabitation for what they’re worth. 

Whilst the film’s cinematography, production design and score were all some of the best the horror genre has seen, it was the performances that finally sold ‘Hereditary,’ notably Toni Collette’s tormented turn as a manic mother who is mourning the loss of a parent. 

‘Hereditary’ didn’t just redefine horror - it successfully put its own wicked stamp on the tropes of the genre, and provided audiences everywhere with a truly unsettling experience.

Hail Paimon!

…AND NOW, THE WORST!

20. VENOM

19. THE MEG

18. MILE 22

17. WINCHESTER

16. LIFE OF THE PARTY

15. BLOCKERS

14. SKYSCRAPER

13. THE WEDDING GUEST

12. DEATH WISH

11. BOAR

10. THE NUN

Sadly, this fifth chapter in the ‘Conjuring’ universe was nowhere near as scary, inspired or coherent as its predecessors. The quick onslaught of jump scares, punctuated by sudden noises on the soundtrack, quickly dashed the hopes of viewers who saw the entire exercise as a colossal waste of time (not to mention that the titular character was almost ‘missing’ in her own movie). 

9. THE PREDATOR

This was a prime example as to how you kill a franchise. ‘The Predator’ was so bad, it made both ‘AVP’ movies look like modern day masterpieces. Whilst the acting and storyline were awful, the film suffered from plot holes, the lack of any kind of script, the constant desperate dramatic music featured relentlessly throughout and the forced jokes. Why director Shane Black thought injecting a comedy script into this franchise was a good idea is anyone's guess. 

8. THE HAPPYTIME MURDERS

Brian Henson, son of the legendary Jim Henson and the director of ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol’ and ‘Muppet Treasure Island,’ somehow thought this juvenile attempt at humour was a good idea. Instead, it did the most offensive thing that a comedy could ever do - it failed to make you laugh. 

7. THE SPY WHO DUMPED ME

This forgettable and redundant comedy, from its tired title to its forced acting and humour, tried desperately to be everything at once and ended up being nothing at all. Given the talent involved, one would have expected some semblance of subtly and finesse to let these strong performers elevate the material as they've been known to in the past. However, when the material was as blunt as a sledgehammer, there wasn’t much anyone could have done. 

6. GRINGO

Despite its polished production values and stellar cast, ‘Gringo’ amounted to an absolute bust. Director Nash Egerton’s unsavoury and amoral comedy of errors qualified as something contrived, convoluted and ultimately incoherent. Crammed with a myriad of ‘madcap’ situations that weren’t even remotely funny or original, this crappy caper failed to keep up with its talented cast who struggled in their portrayal of such unpleasant stereotypes.

5. PACIFIC RIM: UPRISING

CGI vomit. 

4. THE 15:17 TO PARIS

Anybody desperately wanting to watch this train wreck should fast forward the first hour and six minutes. Clint Eastwood’s effort to pay tribute to the three brave men who foiled the 2015 Thalys train attack was a cinematic misfire of epic proportions. The bold step of having the real-life heroes play themselves was a bad call (awkward delivery, mumbled lines), whilst the film also had an underlying Christian/pro-gun/pro-military vibe about it.  

3. ROBIN HOOD

From the over-the-top bow and arrow fights to the bizarre mix of costumes, ‘Robin Hood’ was comparable to Guy Ritchie’s disastrous reimagining of ‘King Arthur,’ only worse. Far worse. This umpteenth version of the legendary heroic outlaw was severely lacking in the entertainment and thrills department, and continued the Hollywood tradition of blockbuster remakes absolutely falling on their arses.

2. ACTION POINT

The ‘Jackass’ films were great, but this dismal wannabe ‘Caddyshack’ or ‘Porky’s’ left audiences longing for the relative artistry and sophistication of the crazy lads’ glory days. ‘Action Point’ was a predictable, exceptionally cheap and humourless affair, a watershed moment in terms of anyone ever bank rolling a feature film for these guys again. RIP gentlemen, it was a fun ride.

1. HOLMES AND WATSON

It’s all elementary as to which film was by far the very worst of 2018.

Everything about ‘Holmes and Watson’ was lazy, incompetent and decidedly unfunny. This shockingly misguided assault of repetitive bad slapstick and terrible writing squandered the remarkable talents of John C. Reilly, Rebecca Hall, Steve Coogan, Kelly Macdonald, Ralph Fiennes and Hugh Lawrie, and saw Will Ferrell give what was easily the worst performance of his entire career.

This was no ‘Step Brothers’ - this was pure, unadulterated garbage. 

[bhadpodcast]

//I have had a terrible and soul searching week in which my physical and mental health teamed up to rebel against me. Dylan O’brien is alive and well in the RSA and that’s all I got today, boo. And we had pizza day at work. You want a quick Damon/Dylan headcanon? // lol same to all, except I didn't get a pizza day, I got to go to a funeral. Massive yes to Damon/Dylan. Or Hoech/Dylan 😁

Been there, boo, way too many times.  Stay strong. 

So I’ve been thinking a lot about this picture:

We talk a lot about bb!Dylls (lil Dyll pickle!), but we don’t talk a lot about bb!Damon.  And I think it’s because at this point we still don’t know a lot about who he is, but I like to imagine he was a young kid who met an older man that took him under his wing.  That they realized they might not make the best couple, but Damon was young and hungry and could perhaps help out on set and be discreet with the things that happened behind the scenes.  

He wasn’t a famewhore, he simply loved the environment.  He saw enough Hollywood True Stories to know he didn’t want to become one, and knew enough people who made a decent living without ended up on the splash screen of TMZ.

But maybe not enough people?  May he didn’t have enough contacts to fully know when something shady was going on during filming.  Maybe he didnt’ have enough experience to fully understand the reason behind Jeff’s contempt for Hoechlin or why he was always so wary of Colton.  What he did know was that this opportunity was a way to make some new friends while learning the ins and outs of the business

Where Damon lacked this 6th sense, what he did have was superb peripheral vision.  Head on he might miss the more pettier nuances, but in his side eye he could see everything.  Like a closet case facing immense pressure from their management and family.  And the against type twink with the gigantic crush on him. 

Some called it chemistry.  To the naked eye it was playing off one another, jokes and stories about baseball.  It was hero worship at its finest, it was mentorship and a big brother program all at once.  The two were only separated by 4 years, but one was a teen and one was an “adult” and it was enough to put aside the thought of any sexual impropriety and firmly encamp their relationship in more of a… scout master/scout type of setting. 

Damon knew better.  His own age was settled firmly between the two and he could see the twinkle in the older’s eyes every time the boy came into the room.  And he could see the wonderment that rained over the boy when the young man graced his presence.  They subconsciously felt each other, gravitating effortlessly to one another, not needing to say a single word, sharing nothing but a coy eye before bursting into laughter. 

And there were the touches.  There were always touching each other.  Sport’s touches.  Little ways guys had to justify their intimacy to each other.  Nevermind that each slap on the ass was really a pat or “playful” squeezing, disregard that the hit to the chest was actually a caress.  Ignore the fact that while Hoechlin often referred to Dylan as a “teammate”  or “buddy”, he never once said little bro, never implied the familial, never put up a fence that he would only later have to tear down. 

And Dylan?  Dylan was a revelation to Damon.  Ultimately shy and anxious while at the same time being extremely comfortable and open when he got to know you.  And he knew you quickly and trusted his instinct.  He knew who was going to hurt him and he was mature enough to know how much he could take before he had to let go.  And for the things he didn’t know?  He’d find a way to ask.  Not directly.  He never asked Damon to kiss him, to fix his pout when he went down on him; he never asked Damon how to “gay”, not directly.  But when he and Damon met, somehow Dylan knew instantly that Damon would be his training ground.  And Damon was glad for the assignment. 

Now, let’s not be mistaken.  This wasn’t done with malice.  Damon wasn’t a plaything that Dylan thought he could use and throw out.  There was a respect there, a near reverence.  He didn’t know all the details, but he knew Damon was on a break after the Jeff stuff.  He knew that Damon didn’t want anything long term, but also didn’t want to overuse his Grindr app.  Damon was soft spoken and a kind soul, but he had a straightforward wit and cunning that Dylan instantly took to.  He’d made fun of Damon’s gauges and Damon just grinned and shrugged and said “well, who doesn’t like a pair of black studs?” while throwing a saucy wink at the boy.  Dylan gave his trademarked open mouthed laughed and Damon licked his while watching the boy’s mouth.  He was complimentary and Dylan liked that.  He was tall and sweet and Dylan liked that too.  And most importantly he was game.  And discreet.  Dylan liked that most of all. 

Dylan appreciated the leers he would feel when he knew absolutely no one else was watching.  When people tried to pat him on the head, he knew Damon was looking at his ass.  When others tried to talk about how cute he was, Damon would growl at him playfully and call him sexy.  Dylan knew he meant it.  He appreciated that Damon could see beyond the baby fat of his cheeks and recognize the impressive growth in his groin.  If Damon could see him that way, maybe someday Hoechlin would too.

What Damon knew, but Dylan didn’t is that Hoechlin already saw Dylan that way, and artfully ignored it.  That’s for later though.  This starts after the night at Fruit Alley

They toast and dance and both are surprised at the other’s ability to move.  Dylan’s hips are extremely pliant and Damon can easily pick up Dylan and wrap his legs around his waist and Damon is swinging him around the dance floor and Dylan shouts in his ear above the music, “I think I would be a top!” 

Damon laughs, shocked and drops Dylan who looks confused at first but then shakes his head laughing. “No, not right now, I just mean, in general!”  He tries to explain, but Damon is a bit drunk and can’t hear over the thumpa thumpa of the club and all he can see is Dylan throw up his hands and mouth “fuck it!” and then Dylan’s mouth is on Damon’s mouth and they grind on each other in the club.  

And Damon is clean shaven, but Dylan still runs his mouth against Damon’s jaw, no doubt with someone else’s in mind, and he moves up to his ear and says, “We should get out of here.  Talk about the topping thing, I have a lot of… research I wanna do.” and Dylan pulls back. 

What stops Damon isn’t the obvious red flag of a young twink ready to wild out with a few drinks under his belt and a hazy gaze.  It’s the fact that when Dylan pulls back Damon’s expecting a cocky put on and bi bravado and what he gets instead are wide, curious eyes asking explicitly for permission.  Cock, but not for connections, for confidence, for coin, but… cock for consent.  This is something that still existed, but Damon has been in Hollywood long enough to forget it and that scares him.  But Dylan gives him hope.  Because if he has this then he can keep it, he can hang on to it.  He’s gonna get his heart broken, Damon can tell, but maybe Damon can show Dylan how to take it without breaking completely. 

“Dylan, you’re not going to fuck me.” Damon says resolutely as Dylan’s eyes fall.  He tucks a finger under his chin and kisses him assuredly. “Not tonight.  This is it for tonight.  And when you’re ready… we’ll try something new.”

Dylan smiles at Damon and Damon smiles back.  

Later that night he drops him off at the apartment Dylan shares with Posey and Hoechlin.  Posey’s light is out which means he’s either asleep or spending the night at some girl’s house.  They have the next day off so Damon is betting the latter.  Hoechlin is downstairs by the dumpster talking heatedly into his phone.  He’s arguing with someone, probably his girlfriend, though it could be an agent, his tone doesn’t waiver much between the two.  Dylan can’t take his eyes off of him.  He sighs, but it’s not defeated, it’s… patient.  He turns to Damon and reaches over squeezing Damon’s hand.  He nods his thanks and piles out.  He doesn’t head towards the dumpsters, but instead goes to the door.  He stills for a moment.  He knows Hoechlin sees him, but Hoechlin acts like he doesn’t, keeps on with the call.  Dylan finally goes inside and Damon drives off.  As he goes he looks in his rearview mirror and sees Hoechlin watching him, without expression. 

He heads to Colton’s apartment.  Colton is a sassy bitch and a fun drunk.  They’ll shoot the shit and Damon will tell him all of his secrets and Colton will drunkenly forget and he’ll say the night was a good night, but he can’t wait for Monday.

[stefaniesugerman-blog]

10 Factors To Perform In Fallbrook, CA.

I used to joke with my mommy that she would check out everything that went on TV unless this was on PBS. When these little ones loose the people that maintain all of them as a result of wars, somebodies deal with all of them which are certainly not as superb as exactly how their moms and dads generally carried out. Throughout the country, thousands of country people are actually battling to spare their local area downtowns. That has a wonderful Old Community, Roman damages (particularly the unspoiled Field) as well as fantastic cafés. Whether you are actually a tourist exploring New york city Urban area vacationing or even a citizen of the busy, ever-busy area, it's effectively worth intending a long time to view the New york city Botanic Garden. Put some span in between your own self and folks which definitely do not comprehend your sensations at this time. If this's a cellular phone, talk to the individual tactfully if they go to an organisation address, and also exactly what business is actually. Commonly they get the idea and also is going to indicate their retail store next time. The concern for every customer is this: How many nearby organisations do you have or disregard for given? Right now do not obtain me wrong, I think that is very important to method as well as feel your emotional states at times as this is the physical body's means of healing emotional upset to become capable to establish that aside. I have no bad factors to state regarding it truly other than that this can easily receive boring occasionally although I have never ever been there and also had it be actually empty when I got here therefore to every his very own I presume. Lasting expenditure horizon purchasing excellent, dividend-paying firms (or even funds of providers) at reasonable costs as well as carrying for as long as the provider or fund remains remarkable, featuring forever. This plain soft-roader might possess helped shape the character these days's developing Sport Utility Vehicle market yet due to the fact that its own launch in 1995, this is actually generally come to be a Mumsnet on steering wheels. Yesterday I had to experience divine for a bit, so I eventually made it to the giant sculpture of Jesus on the mountain range ignoring Rio. Today, a nearby terminal serves light-rail passengers on MetroLink's Red and Blue Lines, while the urban area's intercity learn Supplement4health.info station rests a quarter-mile to the eastern. Our team find Moments Square, The Plaza Hotels And Resort, and Central Park. Our team view a lot of scenarios where there are actually a variety of individuals asked for at the same time. This short article demonstrates how precious the feeling would be actually for the recipients acquiring silver photo structures and also loved ones picture structures on various celebrations. The vivid Southern community attributes vivid night life, enchanting Victorian structures, and also a wide array from eating possibilities. I assume I have actually humbly shown that outshining the marketplace over the long-lasting is actually achievable on Main Street, as well as, just as important, may be an enjoyable and self-actualizing experience. Then ultimately, over a substantial period of your time the company has actually still exceeded the franchise area, however this goes back over a 5 or even 6 year time period, which is actually perhaps beyond most individuals's time horizon. The Big Apple Area possesses lots of must-see" attractions, off the Statuary of Liberty and Realm State Structure to the lights of Drama and also Times Square. Furs typically aren't simply for a stylish night out; ladies are wearing them for every single event and opportunity of time. These small-cap REITs are without the very same Exchange coverage as well as client enthusiasm can easily result in reveals continuing to be underestimated - especially in down markets - for prolonged amount of times.

[thebibliomancer]

100 Days of Comics! 094/100: Fantastic Four #294 (1986)

ITS THE FINAL COUNTDOWN!

And today’s selection is more Byrne Fantastic Four! But with 100% less small child setting himself on fire or the Beyonder. Instead we have an adventure that the Fantastic Four are particularly good at.

A journey into mystery. A strange tale. An amazing fantasy. Some weird-ass shit.

The Fantastic Four plus Wyatt Wingfoot have been investigating a large black dome that covered what used to be California’s Central City. The West Coast Avengers were investigating it too and Iron Man flew in only to be blasted back out a split-second later, looking as if he had gone through a war.

And then the dome started to expand and pulled in She-Hulk (who is taking Ben’s place on the team but is also with the Avengers). The Fantastic Three plus Wyatt arrived and entered a half hour later but Reed realizes there’s some wibbly wobbly time differential going on and a half-hour outside the dome is 150 years inside.

Speaking of inside, inside the Fantastic Three and guest find a most strange sight. A futuristic city and a giant shrine of the Fantastic Four, including some divine looking statues.

The Fantastic Group continues to investigate, little realizing they’re being watched from the shadows by mystery people who call them demons and that two of them are sacrilegiously wearing ‘the holy sign.’

And then while Johnny is flying around, he’s attacked by a vacuum blast which snuffs his flames and knocks the wind out of him. He manages to reignite and light the emergency flare but then more attacks come.

Giant orange clad Juggernaut looking fellows who continually shout “CLOBBER-TIME!” Blue clad people wearing glider suits. Two-headed blond psychics in blue. And red clad men who can turn themselves into a ball of fire.

Or the ‘clobber patrol’, the ‘wing patrol’, the ‘head patrol’ and the ‘burner patrol.’ Hmm. I’m sensing a theme here.

The fight does not go well for the Fantastic Three and Wyatt. In fact, aside from Sue, they all get beaten down and captured. Until a Priestess Livia shows up and halts the fight.

Livia recognizes that these interlopers are the real Fantastic Four, returned to them at last.

So now instead of a fight, there’s a big parade through the city back to the plaza with the giant statues. With people cheering and proclaiming that the Four will “heal the world, and make it whole!” And Reed finds himself pressed to probe for information without ruining his guise as Richards the All-Knowing.

Thankfully, Wyatt. He claims to be a new follower, forbidden to hear the story directly from the Four. So, hey. Exposition dump.

And to translate from olde timey legend to normal speak, there was a scientist called Jessup who was worried about nuclear power and how nuclear power plants were cutting safety corners to save money. When he complained, he was fired. But he continued to have nightmares about nuclear bombs destroying everything. Until he happened to catch an interview with Reed Richards, talking about field-effect phenomena and how it can create space-time disruptions.

Jessup realized that this was the key to safeguarding his family and town from a nuclear holocaust, took out a loan, and built a giant salvation generator to shield Central City from nuclear war. His plan was that time would be slowed inside the field so a nuclear war could pass and the long wait for the radiation to settle while much less time passed inside.

Here’s where things went sideways. First, its clear there’s a flaw in the generator. Its borking time the wrong way. Second, as soon as the generator was complete, Jessup activated it rather than wait for a nuclear war that could strike out of the blue.

Jessup also spread the Word of the Four to the people inside the dome and as generations passed, they became figures of salvation, who would appear when the dome would come down and release them into a reborn Earth.

Well. The dome is coming down. That’s why its expanding. But there hasn’t bee any cleansed Earth or anything. So a city full of highly advanced fanatical people, some genetically enhanced into superbeings, who worship the Fantastic Four is about to be released into the world. A world they expect to be empty.

But there’s some hope. The coordinator, aka Jessup, is still alive. Spending most of his time in deep sleep and awakened periodically to advise on matters beyond the city’s understanding. And since the Four (well, Three) have arrived, they have had Coordinator Jessup woken up.

Reed gets things off on the wrong foot by having one of the first things he says to the guy that his plan has gone all wrong and asking to see his equipment. And Jessup knows that Reed Richards must be long dead by this point, as millions of years have passed outside (which they haven’t). So clearly the Three and Guest are frauds. Demons sent to lead the city astray - like that armored one or green woman.

Reed insists that they’re the real deal so Jessup proposes to test them with his helmet, the Ultimate Adjudicator which can probe into the heart of their psyches and determine if they truly believe what they say.

Sue is worried that the helmet might be a weapon but Jessup claims that its only a weapon against the guilty. And then Jessup starts blasting them, seemingly disintegrating them as we see their musculature and then their skeleton bones.

Jessup: “Woe be upon those who would bear witness against my teachings! For they shall endure the full white heat of my wrath!”

Reed: “Wha--?”

Jessup: “You should never have come here! You should have stayed in your own time.”

Reed: “J-Jessup... why...”

Jessup: “Because,” says the old man under his breath, “A society may have many gods -- but there is room enough for only one savior! I am sorry, Richards... good-bye!”

That’s a pretty good hook. I’m now interested in where this story goes. I have to wonder if Jessup did make a mistake with his machines. Or an intentional. Intentionally creating a time displaced advanced army he could lead to conquer the outside world and stop the danger of nuclear proliferation by force. He has mythologized his motives and the Four and convinced the city that everyone outside his demons. How prepared are they to overthrow the demons and conquer a world they see as theirs? With technology advanced by 10,800ish years.

I’m going to look at the letters column too this time. There’s contention on whether She-Hulk should stay on the Fantastic Four or whether Ben should come back. There’s also somebody complaining about the trend of female characters cutting their hair short.

“The She-Hulk is sure as heck better-looking [than Ben], and green is my favorite color. Also, I like her hair. In this day when most of the female super-heroes are getting their lovely tresses chopped off -- i.e. the Invisible WOman and especially (yech!) Storm -- the She-Hulk’s emerald tresses flow long as always, and I love it.”

So apparently that was a controversy in the fandom in the 80s. I guess some people didn’t love Storm’s glorious mohawk. Including the artist on the issue where she got the new haircut, who called it “a bad joke that got way out of hand.” I guess there’s no accounting for taste.

I don’t think there’s ever been this amount of distaste over male character haircuts. Unless it involves mullets. Everyone hates mullets, apparently. But I think that's largely in retrospect considering how many characters spent the 90s bemulleted.

[yahoo-puck-daddy-blog]

Stanley Cup three-peat? Six reasons Penguins can win it again

Why does Sidney Crosby keep doing this, after literally having accomplished everything in his career that a player can accomplish?

“I think this feeling right now. You can’t match this,” said Crosby, after winning his second-straight Stanley Cup and third of his career on Sunday night. “This is what it’s all about, and to be able to share that with a group of guys, and a lot of them guys that you’ve played a long time with and understand how difficult it is and what you’ve had to go through and that kind of thing, to share it with family and friends. That’s what it’s about.”

[Follow Puck Daddy on social media: Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Tumblr]

Victory is a narcotic, and Crosby is clearly addicted.

What’s left for him? Jeff Marek, on our podcast, joked that winning with another team would be one potential goal, but it’s hard to imagine Crosby ever being motivated to leave Pittsburgh. (Maybe he and Nathan MacKinnon take their talents somewhere one day as Cole Harbour bros.)

But here’s what we’re thinking, as far as next mountain to climb:

Three-peat.

No one’s done it since the New York Islanders from 1981-83, as part of their four-Cup dynasty. Mario never did it. Gretzky never did it (thanks to Patrick Roy). No one’s gotten even two in a row in the cap era before the Penguins did.

And you know what? It’s entirely possible the Penguins could win again next postseason, for three straight Stanley Cups.

Here are six reasons why:

Sidney and Geno

Let’s be real: The reason why the Pittsburgh Penguins were able to repeat comes down to four factors: Superb playoff goaltending from Fleury and Murray; a great coaching staff, from Mike Sullivan’s adjustments to Jacques Martin’s defensive assignments to Rick Tocchet’s lighting a fire under Phil Kessel’s ass when necessary; and, of course, Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin.

You have two of the top three players of their generation – the generation right before McDavid and Matthews – on the same team, on the same power play and on two different scoring lines. The Nashville Predators had the best top four defensemen in the NHL this season. Out of six games, they were able to contain both lines at the same time once.

The joke that was Malkin not making the NHL 100 list finally has a punchline, which is him leading the playoffs in scoring, winning a third Stanley Cup and having the entirety of the hockey world invalidating that list because of his absence. His line with Phil Kessel drew the Predators’ top shutdown pairing – Subban and Ekholm – for a reason.

Which, of course, meant that Crosby’s line doesn’t see the top pairing. And that’s the choice every team has to make against the Penguins: Which generational talent gets our best defense, and which one do we hope and pray has an off night against our second unit?

As for Crosby, he’s cemented himself as one of the greatest captains in NHL history. Yes, Jonathan Toews will forever be known as the “best leader” his generation, mainly because he’s not even in the same conversation as Crosby on a production level and has to have some attribute to use in the debate. But as he showed in each round – in Game 7s, in critical moments like Game 5 against the Predators – a motivated Sidney Crosby is a top-five all-time player. If he’s healthy, the Penguins have a shot at the Cup for the foreseeable future.

Matt Murray

The Penguins don’t win without Marc-Andre Fleury’s two-and-a-half rounds. Especially the Washington Capitals’ series. They all said it after the Stanley Cup win, and it wasn’t hyperbole.

But all that ultimately means is that they need a veteran insurance policy if Murray goes down again next postseason, rather than Tristan Jarry, who still sounds like a character from a YA fantasy novel.

Because if Murray’s healthy … well, check the figures: Two Stanley Cups in his first two seasons. If he plays as long as, say, Tom Barrasso did, he’ll have, by our calculations, 19 Stanley Cup rings. (Hashtag one for the pinkie toe.)

OK, seriously: For all the talk of wonky glove side goals and the like, Murray has a career .928 save percentage and a 1.95 GAA in 32 playoff games, winning 22 of them. That includes four shutouts, three of them posted this season, including his best performance in the postseason in Game 6 against Nashville.

He’s unflappable and dependable, and unlike Corey Crawford (for example) can be the best player on the ice in multiple games in a series. And he’s 22.

The Cap Space

The Penguins are roughly $13 million under the cap at the moment, with Matt Cullen, Nick Bonino, Chris Kunitz, Trevor Daley and Ron Hainsey all UFA; while Conor Sheary, Brian Dumoulin and Justin Schultz are all RFA.

That’s the cap situation without Marc-Andre Fleury’s $5.75 million coming off the books, which it will thanks to the Vegas Golden Knights.

(An aside: The idea that Fleury did the Penguins a solid by waiving his NMC for the expansion draft at the trade deadline, so GM Jim Rutherford wouldn’t trade him, is one way of looking at it. The other way is that Rutherford leveraged that NMC waiving with the threat of a trade, which is unfeeling but great business.)

What that space buys you is another solid, puck-moving defenseman to help Kris Letang out (or, if he’s not healthy, move up the depth chart).

The Penguins were linked to Jacob Trouba of the Winnipeg Jets last season, and would be wise to revisit that. He makes slightly above $2.8 million next season before going RFA. They can afford him now, and going forward if they’re smart about it.

But most of all, regarding the Penguins’ cap: Cheap Labor.

Jake Guentzel, Bryan Rust, Tom Kuhnhackl, Scott Wilson and Carter Rowney all make less than $735,000 against the cap next season. When you have 44 percent of your space tied up in Crosby, Malkin, Kessel and Letang, that’s an incredible cap advantage for 2017-18.

“We were fortunate. We had some guys that were being developed,” said GM Jim Rutherford.

The Exhaustion

It’s been well-chronicled that many of the Penguins have played well over 200 games in the last year. And yet they skated the Predators off the ice in Game 5 of the Stanley Cup Final …

The good news for the Penguins is bad news for the rest of us: No Olympics or World Cup. Crosby, Malkin, Murray and others that would have left for the Games won’t have that extra mileage this season, nor will the schedule be as condensed in the NHL. That helps.

As we’ve seen with the Blackhawks, long playoff runs catch up with you. While the Penguins played through it to win this season, this wear and tear might be their greatest obstacle to three in a row.

The Leafs Haven’t Hatched Yet

It’s pretty clear that the Toronto Maple Leafs are going to be a formidable Cup contender, with Auston Matthews as their leader and with some stud on defense they’ve yet to add. (Drew Doughty goes UFA in 2019, FYI.)

But they’re not there yet, which means the East is still the East. Can the Penguins advance past:

– A Tampa Bay Lightning team, whose composition next season is still unknown?

– Old war horses in the Boston Bruins and New York Rangers?

– Carey Price?

– Whatever the Flyers are doing?

– John Tortorella and a team they always beat?

– Guy Boucher’s diminishing returns?

– Jack Eichel?

– The Florida Panthers, who aren’t quite ripe yet?

– The Carolina Hurricanes, and ditto?

– John Tavares?

– The empty carcasses of the New Jersey Devils and Detroit Red Wings?

– A quivering bowl of red, white and blue gelatin?

The answer is, “of course they can.” At least next season, as they shoot for three.

Finally …

They Know How To Win

This might sound more nebulous than it is, but seriously: If coffee for closers, the Penguins are Starbucks.

“We had a group of guys who knew how to win,” said Rutherford. “We went into to Washington for that Game 7, those guys knew how to win that kind of game. Had to come home and play Ottawa, and we knew how to win that game. We never panicked. And then again in this series [against Nashville].”

When you watch teams like Washington and St. Louis flail about with great talent and a lack of results, you understand there’s an intangible difference between them and the teams that close the deal. There was a poise and confidence about the Penguins, no matter the situation, that was undeniable. That someone would make a play. That adversity wouldn’t rattle them. It wasn’t some B.S. supernatural sports belief in destiny; it was a self-assurance that they got this.

Even for the most focused champions in hockey, three in a row is hard to envision. With the restrictions on spending. With 31 teams. At time when defenses and goaltenders are better than they’ve ever been. (But yeah, leave Malkin off the top 100 in favor of a guy from the 1920s.)

But a Pittsburgh three-peat isn’t impossible, for the reasons we’ve spelled out here.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have an actual dynasty, instead of being all “hey, close enough” in the cap era?

—

Greg Wyshynski is a writer for Yahoo Sports. Contact him at puckdaddyblog@yahoo.com or find him on Twitter. His book, TAKE YOUR EYE OFF THE PUCK, is available on Amazon and wherever books are sold.

MORE FROM YAHOO SPORTS