#because there are undoubtedly some duds in there

[monkey-network]

The Disposable Era of Cartoons

There exists many cartoons in the world that a vast majority never really bring up, and that's okay. Not everyone can watch everything all the time and you can argue that we only scratch the surface since the beginning. I've always had this deep seeded thought however of how animation's been treated, notably of tv shows. Browsing my usual "streaming" sites, I often come upon a show I've never heard of before. One just recently was Zokie of Planet Ruby, a series made by Nelvana, hosted by Nickelodeon, with its entire first season dropped on Amazon Prime on the last day of 2023. Overall, it's not a show I'm interested in, but how it was just dumped onto streaming upon other factors like that got deep seeded thought resurfacing into a theory. A theory regarding the potential era where excess is reaching its apex.

Animated TV shows I say are more arduous to make than films. Not to say films are more effortless to produce, god no, but have better limits given you'll have a set script and runtime to work off of as opposed to having to constantly produce multiple at a time for episodes ranging from 7 to 22 minutes. We work on a timeline where it's hard to believe any new story isn't derivative of already told stories, but the beauty does come in how we're able to transform them with new purposes and concepts. The workload however can be a lot many recognize but don't grasp themselves only as outsiders. The pitch getting greenlit is just the big toe in the door, finally stepping in is a matter of juggling multiple episodes a day, revising and editing, deliveries to the animators, all for the hope that it gets back in time to air. This is where I've come to appreciate The Simpsons, good and bad. Regardless of a recent season's quality, it's undoubtedly difficult to schedule fresh ideas that can stick with the same concepts for 30+ years, all to meet the quota by the beginning of the autumn season. Things have shifted thanks to streaming.

In retrospect, what felt like a novel idea was inevitably gonna turn into a capitalistic nightmare. It makes some sense that Netflix wouldn't have a monopoly on hosting every show from cable TV to be put on their newly founded streaming site in 2007. It wouldn't have been long before every other studio threw their hat in, developing their own stream sites with the properties they made and owned themselves. Competition is natural, but now you're basically spending the same prices as cable or satellite if you wanted to watch every show you remembered seeing on TV. Sites like Tubi and PlutoTV I say are the saving graces where you can shockingly find a ton of film/shows old and new for free, but you've probably seen shows and films getting removed from the sites they originate from, either to be traded to another site or written off for good because investment returns weren't a shake 'n bake. All this is because of rights ownership and a complex web of cost cutting against the people behind said shows and films. What does this mean for cartoons, though?

Like TV shows, you're gonna have a few poster boys upon a ton of shows nobody beyond avid seekers are gonna bother remembering. This has been a trend long in the making, but while many shows can be greenlit and made it can be a crapshoot as to whether the company actually believes in that show enough to market it. For Nickelodeon, it's an open secret that any cartoon not an instant hit like Spongebob, despite little promotion from the company, would be chucked onto the Nicktoons network to run out their remaining episodes. With streaming however, you'd either get something like Zokie of Planet Ruby where everything's dumped without warning or Glitch Techs where it's stuck in development limbo with half its episodes un-aired or incomplete. This isn't just with Nick however. Disney and Cartoon Network has had its fair share of duds everyone's slept on if they weren't massively eyecatching regardless of quality. The fates of their existence is dependent on who's keeping an eye on the companies. This isn't to say shows like Infinity Train and Final Space, which got removed digitally back in October and December respectively, didn't have their supporters who expressed outrage. It's to say other shows couldn't get that level of reported support, and I feel it's only going to get worse.

This is what I believe amounts to the theoretical "Disposable Era" of television, where we aren't just having companies dispose shows but create shows that are purposefully disposable. For websites designed to stream cyclically endless content, this will mean an exponential ton of commissioned projects for cheap that anyone will pick up once, never watch again, and can be written off immediately after a small period because no one outside the crew responsible would notice, incapable of viewing unless someone miraculously torrents everything. While I've brought up TV in general as opposed to just animated stuff, I personally feel the efforts and imaginative possibilities of animation count more for the generations that grow up with them as much as the influences they can have on artists. And I can feel it's discouraging for creators to know that their work can be eventually assembly lined, worst than reality tv, and then erased for tax breaks because nobody thought about them for more than the weekend they binged it all.

This is all if you don't account for anime studios like MAPPA which are a whole other horrifying story

I say "theoretical" because we aren't that far to where it could be possible. Shows do take time to make, and even if companies are pushing AI it's barely able to be anything more than an asset for certain cases. People have their reasonable fears, but an animated show fully AI generated that lasts more than 2 7-minute episodes, at this point in time, is a wet dream from investors. AI will not easily replace the craft, but the craft will be abused year after year with of how many shows get greenlit, made within a couple years, only to be thrown out when the numbers don't appease. This doesn't mean we won't get quality gems, but the rough they come from will pile more and more, and the gems some find that the majority will ignore will be written off and vaulted. I say the inception behind my theory wasn't exactly from the recent stuff like David Zaslav or Paramount's haphazard treatment of their content, it goes a little further back.

Hanazuki: Full of Treasures wasn't a huge series back in 2017, but it was one I enjoyed a lot when it was premiering on Youtube at the time. After its first season finished, Hasbro would produce a theatrical short to coincide with the My Little Pony movie in October. This is where I felt things fell apart. While the film was a commercial success, the short was basically overshadowed and I can't help imagine was what affected the series by the time it got a season two. 2019 was where Hanazuki not only got its broadcast season cut, Hasbro would basically start erasing its existence while supposedly having in development limbo since. While it was all thankfully reuploaded, you wouldn't have been remiss to know Hasbro couldn't even allow it to stay on Youtube after its TV broadcasting.

Everything surrounding rights ownership and royalties has basically developed an endless turmoil of how shows and their crew are treated. I don't blame anyone for not discussing or mentioning everything that gets to exist. Variety is never a bad thing, and sometimes people want certain things because again not everyone thinks or enjoys stuff homogeneously. It's just always increasingly bothered me that so much can get pumped out to be either taken away or left there for people to stumble across. TV's become Youtube but more business heavy where creativity is a tightrope of whether their appeal gets to live for more than a week or not. Like Youtube though, can also be lost to time to no one looking back. Let's just say David Zaslav running WB is only considered the worst because he's become the biggest face of an open secret. He could very well be the beginning of a shift that could lead us into the Disposable Era, and it's anyone guess of how bad it could get.

With all this said, I don't believe preventative hope can't exist, especially without the effort. Piracy is already doing enough for preservation and availability, even if you gotta have adblock to watch them properly. More creators I feel should learn and process the rights they can have with their properties. If there's anything I learned from artists Bill Watterson and Making Fiends' creator Amy Winfrey, is that production syndicates will abuse their knowledge of the law to do as they see fit, especially when it comes down to what you're offering them. The eventual animators and VFX work strikes could provide something more stable, but that's all in due time. How much the average audience member can retain or hyperfixate on is not something to concern, rather that it happens at all. The best solution is finding a middle ground between the disposable and sentimental; more people being vocal about good stuff they found no matter how small. There can be pushback from online lethargic asshats, but it's far better than complaining about the multitude of reboots or how woke everything's become. Something is only as disposable as nobody proclaims otherwise.

but that's all just a theory.

[riley1cannon]

A couple of years ago I was reading this contemporary romance novel set it Alaska (title and author escape and I'm feeling too lazy to look it up, but there was this grumpy diner dude ala Luke Danes, and the heroine kept having mishaps that ruined her Alaska vacation, and there was a controversy over a big resort development) and it was okay, not great, but any potential it had was utterly flattened when this moose, initially presented as comic relief that would be ongoing through the book -- the moose gets into trouble and has to be relocated, and the diner dude who was best buds with the moose takes this hard, and this particular reader was also none too pleased. I skimmed through the rest of the book to the predictable ending, and decided against reading anything else by the author.

So, okay, that's one romance novel ruined due to unnecessary animal drama. What are the odds it would ever happen again? Slim to none, I would have said. But then here comes Mr. Impossible by Loretta Chase, and it already had some problems but then ... Then the hero and heroine are in danger, alerted to the danger by a brave little donkey named Hermione, and they set about saving themselves and proceeding to undoubtedly vanquish the villain(s) and achieve their HEA -- But what happened to the donkey!?! Huh? I skimmed and skimmed and could find no update on poor little Hermione! And I trusted you, Ms. Chase, because just a few chapters earlier I had been concerned about Marigold the Mongoose, but you saved her. Why no kindness for Hermione?

This book wasn't going to get five stars from me anyway (too much instalust, too much trying so hard to capture the fun of Evie Carnahan and Rick O'Connell and not coming close, too much me comparing it to Amelia Peabody when it shouldn't even be mentioned in the same breath really), but then this poor little donkey is abandoned and left to her cruel fate, and it promptly went on the DNF pile.

(Fair question: If I had otherwise been enjoying the book, would I have dumped it just because of the donkey? No, probably not. This is similar to cozy mysteries, for instance, when the only compliment I can pay is that I really liked the dog or cat.)

So, anyway, that was a dud. One of the few this year, knock wood.

P.S. If someone out there has read this book and can tell me that, in fact, Hermione does turn up later alive and well, that would be appreciated. Won't make me want to pick it up again and finish it, but it would be good to know.

[anlovagiftstore]

Why is a pet portrait a wonderful present?

We all have the same issue every time it’s a loved one’s birthday, anniversary, or another significant occasion. What kind of present is ideal? A touching photo of the cherished pet that the pet parent will cherish always is the best present for any pet parent.

Pet portraits can brighten our homes as we can commemorate the affection of our family members’ pets. Due to a variety of factors, pet pictures are regarded as the perfect present for any animal lover.

We’ll go through the benefits of a Custom pet portrait in this post so you can pick the ideal present for your loved ones as well as where to find the greatest, most expertly created pet portrait from your photo.

Why is a pet portrait an excellent present?

Incredible present

Pet portraits are prized as memorable gifts since they exhibit feelings and emotions. The gift’s sentimental elements are the finest way to convey its significance.

If you are also a pet parent, you will have no trouble comprehending the degree of attachment. Let’s say someone presents you with a unique pet portrait. If such is the case, you will never forget it because every time you see it, you will think of the individual who recognized your love for your pet.

A unique gift

A distinctive and different gift is adored by all. Which gift would you prefer to receive — a typical item from the store from one buddy or a pet painting of your furry friend from the other? A second effort from a friend who values your opinion will undoubtedly impress you.

An excellent surprise

One of the best things about pet photos is that they make the ideal surprise gifts because your loved ones won’t anticipate them. Your loved one will like this gift due to its emotional impact and originality. When your loved one receives and views the pet photo as a gift, you may anticipate a significant and very emotional response.

The ideal present for art enthusiasts

You may anticipate receiving excellent artwork when you purchase a pet portrait from one of the best and most reputable portrait artists, like Anlova. For any art enthusiast, it will be the pinnacle of art. Your effort in selecting the best present for them will be much appreciated.

A pet portrait is an ideal present for a loved one who values both animals and art. It will make him/her happy.

Not constrained to a certain gender or age group

Pet portraits can be given to anyone, regardless of gender or age, unlike other types of gifts. This present is appropriate for anybody who likes animals, including your partner, best friend, parents, siblings, coworkers, and spouses.

What store has the best pet portraits?

You should go to Anlova if you want the best pet portrait. Simply browse the portrait collection first to select the ideal piece in this case. The next step is to choose and upload the top pet picture. Placing the order now will allow you to unwind while they handle the rest.

Tips and Tricks for Pet Photography

There will be many photos you need to shoot that are duds, but there will also be some real jewels in there. Here is some further advice for expert pet photography:

Put yourself at your pet’s level.

Instead of capturing the photo from a high point, knelt down or lay on the ground. Also, attempt a few shots at close range. If your pet has a tendency to retreat, approach slowly while holding a treat or use a telescopic lens.

Abstain from busy backdrops.

Consider what is behind and around your pet. You want your pet to command attention. Your pet’s coat can be contrasted with plain white walls, a sizable area of green grass, or a light or dark solid carpet.

Make use of daylight.

For animals who might become nervous near a flash, lots of natural light is recommended. You can take pictures of your cat or dog close to a large window that gets plenty of sunlight.

Make sure your pet is well-groomed.

Consider grooming your dog, for example. Brush them well, then use a soft cloth to remove any goop from the area around the eyes.

While filming, talk to your pet.

Research demonstrates that dogs comprehend human language and feelings more adeptly than you could have imagined. As you try to take fascinating pictures, make use of this to your advantage.

Get your camera prepared.

You never know when your canine companion will do something that will make for a good shot. You can record these priceless moments if you have a camera or phone nearby.

Most importantly, enjoy yourself and unleash your creativity.

Conclusion

Our pets play a significant role in our lives and receive the same level of affection as our children. Any pet lover would appreciate receiving a pet photo as a present because it will not only preserve precious memories but also have sentimental value.

[iturbide]

I offer you the chance to ramble about the Golden Deer - any support ideas you have for them? As in, any you wish went all the way to A or supports you wish you could change?

I will never pass up an opportunity to talk about my Deer

Honestly there are a lot I wish would have gone to A, just because I love the characters and I wanted to see more of their relationships. As examples:

Lorenz and Ignatz - Their Support chain was the first one that made me question my stance on Lorenz in the first place, and I really wish they could have had an A support post-timeskip where Lorenz makes Ignatz a real offer to become a Gloucester knight because of how much he appreciates Ignatz's artistic talents, even though both know it will have to wait until the war ends; giving them a paired endcard where Ignatz gets to be happy in Lorenz's employ, able to pursue his artistry thanks to what amounts to a permanent commission from a noble house, would have been amazing.

Leonie and Marianne - Honestly I loved their Support chain and how Leonie realized that she'd messed up with Marianne and tried to apologize and make things up to her. It would have been really sweet if they could have had an A support, maybe where Leonie is stressed about the whole war situation and Marianne comes to talk to her, and even though she worries she's not very good at holding a conversation Leonie reassures her that it was just what she needed. Heck, the could even have an A support where Leonie succeeds in becoming a mercenary and ends up visiting Edmund territory frequently, and word of their odd little chats spreads along with the rumor that they both look happier by the time they go their separate ways again.

Lorenz and Ferdinand - Absolutely wasted opportunity, IntSys. These two are two peas in a pod and I am forever disappointed that they only gave us through a B rank. I wanted to see an A rank where they talk during the war phase and both worry for the commoners that are most affected by this war, and discussing ways to provide aid even as they work toward their ultimate goals. Their endcard could have had the both of them becoming heads of their respective Houses but making time to visit, and whenever one of them visits the other's territory the people know to expect the two noblemen to make the rounds patronizing local businesses and talking freely to the people.

Lysithea and Annette - Another utterly wasted opportunity, IntSys, get it together. Seeing these two magic scholars sharing their knowledge and pushing one another to improve and succeed through their B Support was really sweet, and I wish we could have gotten an A to go with it -- one where Lysithea opened up with Annette about why she's pushing herself so hard, and big-hearted Annette promising to try and find a way to make sure Lysithea lives as long as possible. Their endcard could have involved both of them working under Hanneman and finding a solution, after which point they both head to the Kingdom and end up as staff at the Fhirdiad Academy of Magic, with Annette as a professor and Lysithea devoting herself to research (though they constantly put their heads together to help one another out, just as they did in their Garreg Mach days).

Hilda and Sylvain - Actually one of my favorite Sylvain supports because A) he gets duped instead of getting away with his usual flirting in the C Support, B) he shows off how perceptive and capable he really is in the B Support, and C) the way he talks to her actually gets Hilda to reconsider how her behavior impacts other people and take responsibility for things. I really wish they could have had an A Support, especially since Hilda rightly calls him out on how fake his niceness is (it's just a veneer over how poorly he thinks of women on the whole, after all): it would have been really nice if Hilda could have gotten him to rethink his perceptions of women in the same way that he got her to reconsider how her actions impacted the people she tricked into doing her work, and in their endcard it could have been pretty sweet if she ended up going to Gautier territory and really making good on that promise to take responsibility, helping him with the duties of the Gautier House once he takes over.

...and I have a bunch of Supports I would really want to see changed, too, because I am occasionally contrarian not as bad as Felix though

Lysithea and Ignatz - Easily my least favorite Support chain among the members of the Golden Deer House, to the point that I refuse to put the two of them together to in combat (and if I get a Support level by chance I skip it). The way Lysithea comes down so hard on Ignatz for his appearances and his supposed "unreliability" rubs me exactly as badly as Ingrid's Support chain with Claude (one of my least favorites in the game at large), not to mention the fact that parts of their A support go directly against Ignatz's other supports (Ignatz claims he's not very discerning, but he impressed Lorenz in their C support by picking a teapot to perfectly match the blend Lorenz picked for their break -- and while this could be Ignatz talking himself down, it would have made more sense for him to just err on not knowing Lysithea's preferred tastes). I really would have preferred if their C Support had been replaced by the B, their B Support had been replaced by some semblance of the A (for the carry-through about his reliability), and their A Support had been entirely different, with Lysithea perhaps apologizing for her digs at him during their school days and him admitting that he isn't always the most reliable, but he does try, and he's glad not only to be someone she can rely on, but that he can rely on her in turn.

Lorenz and Sylvain - It's so bad. This one's high up on my list of most hated Supports gamewide because it's just so sleazy, and it doesn't manage to highlight any of the good aspects of either character. While it would be fine for them to start out in competition during their C support (because that is the impression they give at first glance), I wish their B had been more character-focused, with them discussing the point of all this: Lorenz is looking for a partner, Sylvain is lashing out because he feels women only want to use him for his Crest. Highlight what makes them different in their approaches, and maybe even have them butt heads over the clash in motivations -- it could have revealed more about their characters in a really interesting way, rather than dragging the both of them through the mud.

Claude and Ignatz - Not a bad Support by any means, but not one that really highlights the best points of the characters. I really would have liked to see both Ignatz's artistry and his piety in his Support chain with Claude, rather than just driving home his religious leanings; for instance, in the C Support he could have been trying to paint an image of the Goddess based on the library records he's been scouring and Claude chats with him about it, then in the B he's painting a landscape and Claude makes some casual remark about how he thinks the gods are part of the beauty of the world and that this captures more of the Goddess than the Church texts ever could, and maybe even an A where they talk about how differently they view the Goddess and the world, and how Ignatz might not understand where Claude's views come from, he would like to see more of the world to try and find the Goddess there -- and they could even cap it off with an endcard about how Ignatz disappeared after the war, only to appear years later in the entourage of the King of Almyra, and how his stunning landscapes and artworks are said to have an otherworldly, almost divine quality to them.

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L |  S E V E N

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   s e v e n |  b l o o d

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!) lets just say this gif is a teaser as to what takes place in this chapter. major blood kink in this chapter. period play?? lmao sorry about it.

There was a shift after that weekend at Billy’s cabin, and you knew he felt it too.

It was never really that casual between you and Billy, that much you knew, but there was something that changed when the two of you got back to Woodsboro. There was something to be said about being able to openly show affection to the person you loved, to hold them and kiss them in public and you’d gotten that treatment in that little lakeside town. You felt like Billy’s actual girlfriend, not his plaything, not the bitch who was backstabbing her own best friend for a fucking boy, you were it.

And while Billy had always said that you were his girl, you hadn’t truly felt like you were until now.

Which was precisely what made tonight so fucking awkward.

Not only had you been coerced into going to the movies with the gang but, unbeknownst to you, Sid had taken it upon herself to fix you up on a blind date with one of Randy’s annoying friends from the video store.

Why had you agreed to this? You were a cold, calculating bitch behind the scenes when it came to fucking your best friend boyfriend and yet saying ‘no thanks, I’m not up for it tonight’ was beyond you? Were you just plain stupid or a closet masochist that thrived on dicey situations?

Either way, you’d never wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic more than you did tonight because not only were you trapped into an uncomfortable blind date with a guy you were fairly sure was frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting you alone in the car after all of this was said and done but you just so happened to be seated directly next to Billy.

You were smack dab in the middle of hell. Between a man you were fucking, a man you were disgustingly in love with and had just spent a weekend away with and a man you’d just met today but couldn’t stop playing handsy on your lap whenever he thought the others weren’t looking.

But Billy was always looking.

You knew that better than anyone. He had this innate sense of finding you in a crowded room. You could feel the weight of his brown eyes on you nearly every second of the day, soaking you up, taking every inch of you in, no matter who was around and tonight, as your ‘date’ smacked on his popcorn all the while feeling your thigh up any chance he could, Billy’s dept stare was tuned in and you knew it.

This had to have been karma. Karma for going away and having a beautiful weekend away with the guy you loved so wholly. The one whose girlfriend was on the other side of him with her pretty head on his stupid shoulder as you suffered in silence at just how fucking laughable this entire situation was.

“See that actress?” Your date, Anthony, whispered into your hear. He smelled like movie theatre butter. You wanted to scream. “Have you seen any of her other stuff?”

You were watching The Crucible and the actress in question was Winona Ryder. Everyone and their left nut had seen Winona Ryder in at least a dozen movies. Frowning, you blinked across at the man and blinked. “Yeah. I’m familiar with her work.”

Focusing ahead on the movie, you tried your damnedest to focus on what was going on but when you felt his slithery palm slide up your thigh, you were this close to pouring your Coke on his lap. Why the fuck had you agreed to this?

Pushing the man’s hand away as subtly as you could to avoid any unwanted attention from your friends, you bit down on the side of your mouth and heaved a quiet sigh. You deserved this. This was your punishment.

“She’s hot.” Your lovely date quipped, squeezing the area of your thigh just above your knee. “In that goth-girl next door kind of way.”

Was he getting off to Winona Ryder all the while coming on to you? Was he picturing Winona as he squeezed your thigh? You truly didn’t want to find out. Once again, you pushed his hand away and, this time, crossed your legs and leaned into the arm rest you were sharing with Billy.

The move was subtle, and you were barely even touching Billy but you needed to create a distance between yourself and Butter Fingers if it was the last thing you did.

With a subtle nudge to your arm, Billy’s eyes flickered towards you as his brows furrowed in question. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing in his cheek, that you could see even in the darkness of the movie theatre, and there was murder in his eyes as he sized up the man just over your shoulder. It was as though you could feel his blood pressure spike just looking at the guy and, as you held your breath, silently pleading with him not to make a scene that would undoubtedly give the two of you up, those brown eyes slowly found yours.

There was anger in his eyes, a palpable rage, but it was the look of pure despondency in his stare that made your own heart break. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be holding hands with Sid and you weren’t meant to be dealing with the idiot to your right.

How it felt up at the cabin, the freedom of loving each other and holding each other and kissing each other in broad daylight was how it was supposed to be. How love was supposed to feel.

Not this.

You were both hiding in plain sight. Putting on a façade to your friends, to each other whilst in public, and it was in that moment, in the middle of a crowded theatre, looking at each other knowing there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it, that you felt that pain so intensely that it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned behind your eyes and you hated yourself for it.

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry over a situation you were willingly putting yourself in. This entire thing could have been avoided had you had a stronger backbone here. You weren’t the victim in this scenario. That was Sid. Sid was the one completely getting fucked over in this situation, not you. You had no damn right to feel this shitty because you were doing it to yourself.

This was just the high of the weekend wearing off and reality settling in. Until circumstances changed, this was your norm.

Swallowing back your nerves, it was all you could do to give Billy a small, barely-there smile before focusing ahead on the movie.

“I’m going to grab us another Coke,” you heard Billy say to Sidney. “Anyone want anything?”

“More popcorn,” Stu waggled his empty bag. “Maybe some Milk Duds, man.”

“Candy.” Tatum mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the screen. “Surprise me, I don’t care what kind.”

Billy nodded and took Stu’s money before he gently nudged you. “You want anything?”

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off but Anthony. “You mind keeping it down, buddy?” He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “We’re at the movies, not here for snacks.”

It was as though Billy’s wrath was physical as his dark eyes scraped over Anthony’s face. His mouth was pulled into a thin, hard line as Anthony’s pompousness sank in. Why couldn’t it be Randy beside you? Why had that dipshit agreed to take this asshole’s shift in order for you to go on a blind date with him? This entire fiasco could have been avoided had it been Randy.

“Yeah, I could use a drink.” You slinked out of your seat. “I’ll help you carry everything back.”

You didn’t wait for Billy as you marched down the aisle but, as you walked down the stairs and out of the theatre, you weren’t at all surprised to see him broody and annoyed as he followed you out.

“If anyone should be looking like that, it’s me,” you groused, falling in to step beside him as you made your way to the snack bar. “I’m stuck on a date with that asshole.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” he grumbled, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. “I told Sid to leave well enough alone, but she insisted.”

You hummed and lined up at the concession. “Lucky me.”

Again, you felt his stare before you actually lulled your head to the side to face him. Intense, searching eyes sweeping over your features in both concern and possible envy. “One word,” he muttered, stepping closer towards you. Too close. Not because you didn’t want him that close but because you were in public. Sid and Tatum and Stu and fucking Anthony were a stone’s throw away. “One word from you, baby, and I’ll take you home. Fuck that guy.”

You glowered across at him as though he’d grown a second head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, shit for brains, we’re in public right now. Your girlfriend could walk out any second and see or hear you.”

He seemed to mull over your words for a second but didn’t bother moving away from you. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You do,” you rhymed off, shuffling closer to the front of the snack bar.

He ignored that. “Also, you’re my girlfriend. Stop calling her that.”

This was not a conversation the two of you should have been having in the middle of a fucking movie theatre. Looking across at him, you raised your brows and blew out a puff of air through your lips. Trying to keep up with Billy’s rationale of staying with Sid to ensure he doesn’t hurt her any further after her mother’s death all the while being with you was giving you whiplash. You knew he loved you and, begrudgingly, you loved him right back. And, a part of you knew, that he was struggling with being back in the real world just as much as you were since coming home from the cabin.

But this was not how he should have been handling it. Not out in the open like this. Especially while you were on a triple date with your friends in a theatre down the hall.

“Billy,” you muttered quietly, ensuring no one was listening in, “please let’s talk about this later. Not here. Not now. Let’s just get the fucking concessions and go, okay?”

He licked his lips and you watched his brown eyes flitter down your face before briefly looking at your own lips. He wanted to kiss you and fuck, did you want to be kissed by him.

But that wasn’t the deal.

So, instead, you watched as he took a hesitant step away from you before nodding his head once. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. “Tonight.”

“Sure,” you smirked, “I mean, if I’m not with Anthony, that is.” You almost laughed at how wide his eyes got as you uttered those words. But, when he saw the playfulness in your stare, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes as you continued. “The way he’s been mowing down on his popcorn all night has me wet as hell, so I might be busy with him later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. Then, he turned to you and gave you a crooked smile. One that almost made this horrific ordeal worth it. “You’re a real bitch when you want to be, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’ve been told.”

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

True to his word, Billy slipped in through your unlocked window a little after midnight that evening with a bag of stale licorice and a drink he’d swiped from the gas station on the way over to your house.

“We didn’t get our movie date.” Was his explanation as he popped The Lost Boys into your VCR and all but hopped in bed beside you. When you’d remained standing by your dresser, eyeing him with both curiosity and sheer happiness radiating off of your face, all you got was a confused look out of Billy before he patted your mattress. “You going to get that ass over here or what?”

So, naturally, you’d joined him.

And it took all of thirty-two minutes of watching the film for the two of you to end up pawing at one another as the tension of the day slowly peeled off of you with every layer of clothing the two of you tore off one another.

In no time, you were both stark naked on your bed as The Lost Boys played on without an audience. All Billy cared about watching was you. Watching you writhe and moan. He could watch you do just about anything, but it was that dreamy look you got on your face whenever he touched you that he had imprinted into his skull. It didn’t even have to be sexual. You just had a certain look whenever the two of you connected, one that he felt but managed to keep stowed away inside of him, but one you expressed. It was happiness.

Pure, unadulterated, bliss.

He knew you. Knew your body in and out, knew how to get you to come undone, knew what made you tick, what made you squirm.

You were muscle memory to him, at this point.

He knew you better than he knew himself.

Which is why, when you subtly stopped him from slipping his fingers inside of you, that Billy’s focus went to your ass. The only time you pushed his hand away after he’d spent minutes sucking and biting and focusing on those perfect tits, was when you were on your period.

So, he didn’t push it.

The two of you had fucked a few times whilst you were on it but you were deadest on limiting that to the lighter days. The very beginning or the end. Never in the middle. But god, did he want to experience the middle days.

You were so fucking horny when you were on your period and why you thought he’d give a shit about how much blood came out of you as the two of you fucked was beyond him.

So, he’d focus on your ass. Something that drove you to the brink of insanity and something that made him harder than anything.

But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

He needed all of you.

Ever since the cabin, he’d needed more of you in his life. It had become nearly impossible for him to show any iota of affection for Sid now that he’d had a taste of what life felt like with you at his side. You were his Final Girl. His everything, if he was being completely honest. And, while he knew he couldn’t open himself up to you to that extent, not yet, he needed you to feel that raging darkness inside of him. Not too much of it, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

If you could handle a shred of it, maybe he could share more of himself with you.

The darker parts.

His hands stilled as they trailed down your body and, as he hovered over you, he bit his lip and slowly drew tiny circles into your hips. “You’re on your period, right?”

You nodded, your lips swollen from the amount of kissing having gone on since popping the movie in. “Yeah, but it’s not a light day.”

He nodded in understanding as he bit his lip. “You think we could try it, anyway?”

Your eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “By not a light day, I mean its kind of heavy, Billy. It’d look like a crime scene in here.”

Billy made sure to keep his face stoic, but the idea of the two of you fucking whilst covered in blood was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked, dipping his head down to lick your painfully hard nipple. “It’s got to feel so fucking good, right?”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed in contentment when he began to suck your tit again. “It’s messy, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he released your nipple and kissed the sensitive flesh of your breast. “I like messy.”

Your head flopped back against the pillow as you thought over his request. I did feel good, but did you want Billy to have to witness you cleaning up a fucking homicide scene once he was through with you?

Blowing out a quiet raspberry, you eyed him with mock suspicion before he gave you those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “Ugh,” you groaned with a laugh, “fine. Let me take this fucking tampon out and I’ll grab a towel to put underneath me because it is heavy, and you will be grossed out.”

Billy’s cock twitched as he watched you roll out of bed before disappearing in the bathroom. Within a few moments, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you re-emerged with a towel in hand.

He could watch you parade around like that all day. Naked, eyes hooded from desire, nipples and lips red from where his mouth had staked its claim.

You were perfect.

A vision.

You were fucking everything.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while.” He admitted, watching you carefully roll the towel onto the bed before perching your ass directly on top of it so as to avoid any potential leakage onto your sheets.

“I wish I could say I was shocked.” You teased, laying back down. Spreading your legs, he watched you slip a finger through your folds to tease your clit.  

He swallowed as he watched you finger yourself. But then your words sank in and a panic settled in his chest as he swept his eyes up your body to meet your amused stare. “What’s that mean?”

You shrugged so casually as you continued the tirade on your own pussy. “All the scary movies we watch and stuff. You get hard as a rock if there’s a scene with a pretty girl and some blood.”

Billy froze. This was only supposed to be a peek inside of his darkness, not a full-blown window. But you didn’t seem all too fazed by it either, which confused him endlessly.

Rather than deny it, Billy hesitantly reached for your cunt to replace your fingers with his own. He didn’t delve inside of your pussy just yet, just circled your clit the way you’d been doing seconds prior. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He whispered, placing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Nah,” you hummed, “we’ve all got our kinks, I guess.”

You released a quiet moan as he pinched your clit, but his eyes never left your face. He knew you were talking about blood in respect to the movies, but your casual tone still caught him off guard. There was no shame in it, no doubt. Just an honest to god shrug as he circled your clit with his middle finger.

Testing the waters, Billy slipped his fingers down your pussy so that his thumb coaxed your clit as he slipped two fingers inside of you. At first, it simply felt like you were soaked on account of all of the teasing and, maybe you were, but as he glanced down at the base of his fingers as he pulled them out of you, Billy nearly moaned.

Blood.

Your blood.

All over his fingers, pooling along the top of his palm.

Billy was fascinated. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt blood between his fingers, but not like this. When he’d killed Maureen Prescott, there was so much fucking blood that he’d been sick afterwards. He hadn’t expected that level of destruction but, after puking a few blocks away, he didn’t exactly shy away from it. He thought about it often, thought of the carnage that had surrounded him once he’d finished with Sidney’s mother, thought of the way the blood felt between his fingers, splayed and smattered across every inch of his body.

But this was euphoric.

Because he didn’t have to hurt anybody to feel that warmth on his palm. In fact, as he slowly slipped his fingers inside of your hot cunt, he was doing anything but. You were gyrating into his hand, unknowingly spreading your blood further and it was killing him. He was so fucking hard, too fucking hard, but he didn’t want to rush a damned thing.

He’d thought about this far too often for it to be over so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slipping his hand out of your pussy just long enough to slowly spread your blood down your inner thigh. It left a fine red trail that he had every intention of lapping up in a few seconds if you were to allow it. “You feel so good, baby.”

He’d half expected you to make a comment about making a bigger mess than what your piddly little towel would allow but, as he slowly found your hooded eyes through the dim light of your bedroom, only hunger marred your pretty face.

Desire.

Intrigue.

Leaning in, Billy placed a small kiss to the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to fuck you. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” you rasped out, leaning your forehead against his as you bit your lip to swallow back a moan. Between your arousal and the blood, the natural lubrication that coated your pussy as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you all the while rubbing your clit was killing you. “So fucking good, Billy.”

He smirked and quickened his pace on your clit just enough to drive you to madness as he bit down on your earlobe. His breath was hot against your cheek. “I want to taste you tonight.”

Though the promise of his tongue replacing his thumb enticed you, the fact that you were on day two and a half of your period was not a good plan. So why were you intrigued? A part of you wanted to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was but a much larger part of you wanted to see how feral Billy could get where you were concerned.

Torn, you pulled back and searched his eyes. “It’s going to be…messy, Billy.”

His dark chuckle was velvet against your skin. “I already told you,” he curled his fingers inside of you and admired the way your entire body twitched. “I like messy.”

He began to kiss his way down your body. You tried not to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling across every inch of your skin on his way down or the way his teeth nipped and bit at your stomach and hips as he positioned himself between your thighs. But mainly, you tried not to focus on how fucking bloody it was between your thighs because you knew that Billy wouldn’t be down there long on account of it.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, Billy,” you tried to reason, chest heaving in anticipation as he settled between your legs.

Something flashed across his face as he held your stare. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to back out and leave well enough alone, but then you watched as the bastard leaned into your pussy and raked his tongue from the base of your pussy right up to your bloodied mound.

He held your stare the entire time.

“I want you like this,” he assured you, yanking you further down the bed so that you were right at the edge. His voice was hoarse and breathy and as you chanced a look down at him through a pair of hooded, drowsy eyes, you watched him pump his cock with his free hand as he licked his lips. “I love you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he buried his face between your thighs. You gasped at the contact but didn’t shy away from his touch for a single second as he slowly lapped at your core. With the one hand still gripping your hips, holding you firmly against his tongue, you knew there would be bruises where his fingers carved into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was desperate to get you closer into his face and you were desperate to feel that perfect fucking tongue on your pussy.

It was as though he’d been possessed in those few moments. Billy couldn’t get enough of you on a good day but tasting you like this was enough to make Billy wild. Your pussy, the blood mixed with your slick, tasted so fucking good on his tongue. Burying his face further into your folds, he nuzzled at your clit and, now forgetting about his own pulsing cock, pulled you even closer.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Billy moaned into your pussy and bit down on your clit just enough to entice a moan that was probably a little too loud for your parents being home. But, he didn’t care. He refused to care in that instance.

All he wanted, all he cared about, was tasting as much of you as humanly possible before making you come on his tongue.

His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled. You were being rougher than normal, and he fucking loved it. You were pulling on his hair and bucking into his mouth with such hunger that he could barely breathe but fuck he didn’t care. If this was how he was taken out, so be it.

“Baby,” you whined, voice low. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Your grip on his hair was vice-like as the veins in your neck swelled. With wild, laboured breaths, you found yourself bucking into his mouth as a white-hot orgasm rippled through your entire body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed, but Billy’s mouth was relentless.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, that he pulled away and allowed you to collapse back onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your body, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

He could feel your blood all over his chin and nose and as he licked it off, using his fingers to swipe at the areas his tongue couldn’t quite reach, Billy was coasting on a high that only you could provide.

“Oh, god,” you buried your face into the pillow with a quiet laugh as you moved to get off the bed. “Hang on, I’ll grab you a towel for your face.”

“No,” Billy shook his head and grabbed for your wrist. “I want to see it.”

You blinked and scraped your eyes along his bloodied face. Your nipples were still rock hard and your cunt was still pulsing on account of his tongue, but it was the look of pure ecstasy on his face that made you clench.

He was being serious.

“Come with me,” he hummed, slipping off of the bed to head towards the small bathroom attached to your room. His fingers threaded through yours as you both walked across your bedroom before flicking the light on.

The vision that he was met with made his cock twitch.

Your blood coated almost everything from his nose down his chin and as you stood beside him, looking at him through the mirror, still fully naked and still housing bloody handprints left behind from his busy hands coating the lower half of your body, Billy had never wanted to bury himself inside of you any more than he did right then and there.

He found your curious stare through the mirror. Your pretty eyes swept over the mess of blood left behind on account of you and as you turned to face him, he found himself hypnotized as you reached out to sweep his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Blood suits you,” you teased with a small smile. “Horrifically enough.”

He said nothing as those brown eyes soaked you in but as he stepped into you, cornering you against the sink counter, the look on his face said everything. He didn’t kiss you though. He seemed to hesitate, as though gauging if you’d kiss him whilst covered in your own menstrual blood. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted almost sheepishly.

He nuzzled your neck and slipped his knee between your thighs to allow himself better access to your pussy. With his hand wrapped securely around his cock, he slipped the head of his dick along your folds and swallowed hard as he watched your blood coat the head of it. “Fuck,” he whispered as his forehead fell against your own. “You’re going to make me come before I’m even inside of you.”

You were watching his face as he once again slipped the head of his cock through your folds so it teased your clit. His eyes were so dark and there was so much desire in those warm eyes that it almost caught you off guard.

“You’re really into this,” you remarked quietly. When his eyes found yours, you could see blind panic cross over his face as he instinctually took a step away from you. You stopped him before he could think of stopping himself. “Hey,” you cooed, reaching out for his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, relax.”

You felt the tension in his shoulders disperse as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re too good for me,” he muttered, cradling your face. “You know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you goaded with a smile. “I know.”

He barked out a quiet laugh and ground his hips into yours. “A smartass, too.”

You hummed as his hands slid down your body to hold you against the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” Billy nipped at your neck.

You leaned back to allow him full access to your neck. “How did I taste?” Your words seemed to make him still as he slowly pulled back to search your eyes. “With the blood. How did it taste?”

The look on Billy’s face was primal as his grip on your hips tightened. Leaning in, he nudged your nose so that your lips were perfectly aligned with his. “Kiss me and find out.”

You weren’t sure at first, but as he closed the distance between you, you found yourself leaning into the kiss both curious and slightly mortified by the taste of your blood on his lips. It was strange and you weren’t sure if you liked it at first, if you were being honest. It was coppery and a little sticky and yet as he walked the two of you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, you found yourself hungry for more.

With your fingers tangled through his hair you gave it a tug, garnering a low growl that rumbled in his throat as he continued on with the bruising kiss. When the back of his knees hit your bed, the two of you fell into a jumbled mess on your mattress, never once breaking for air as your tongues battled for dominance.

Expertly, knowing the way your body moved better than anyone, Billy moved you in such a way that he was sitting up in the middle of your bed as you straddled his lap. And as you lowered yourself onto his pulsing cock, the gruff low moan that tore out of his lips was enough to kill you.

His large hands splayed out across your back, guiding you further into his hungry mouth as your bleeding cunt teased him beyond belief. You were so wet and with every twist of your hips and every gentle moan, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else besides just how fucking good you felt.

Digging your nails into his shoulders, blood slowly pooled in the wake of your crescent moon shaped nail markings. He hissed at the sensation and squeezed your tits rather roughly as he tried to stop himself from coming right then and there.

But then you lowered your lips onto his shoulders and he felt your hot tongue trace over every last cut and he almost lost it. There you were, with dried blood all over your chin and parts of your cheeks from having kissed him after going down on you, licking the blood that gathered along his shoulders.

He was in a state of euphoria.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He pushed out, revelling in the feel of how warm and wet your pussy felt.

Rather than say a word, all you did was bite down on the reddened area of his shoulder as you quickened your pace on his dick.

Drawing more blood.

Licking up more of his blood.

Something in him snapped to life in that instance. An almost ancient need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. Your tits bounced as you writhed on top of him and as he began to meet you halfway with violent, earth shattering thrusts, the outside world ceased to exist.

The sound of his balls hitting your sopping pussy combined with the sound of your wetness, both slick and blood, squelching all around the two of you was all that surrounded you as you whined out his name. You could barely breathe as he pounded into you, barely function.

“Billy, fuck, I—”

His mouth buried your words with another hungry kiss. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you sat on your bed, fucking each other raw. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, gently tugging at it as his forehead fell against your own.

There was a shift after the cabin that you’d both felt inside of you, but there was a shift in the air tonight, as well. An unspoken trust, of sorts, that went beyond anything the two of you were prepared for.  

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. A flood of warmth settled in your belly as he came and as his thumb continued to circle your clit, rubbing and pinching at it every step of the way, you soon followed suit.

With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there as he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along your shoulder before his eyes found yours once again.

His thumb skirted across the apple of your cheek. “You’re my girl,” he whispered, revelling in just how fucking gorgeous you looked in that instance. “You know that?”

“I do,” you affirmed, kissing him softly. “You’re helping me clean my fucking bedsheets in the morning,” you muttered, “do you know that?”

Despite everything, Billy found himself smiling across at you before glancing down at the bloody mess of your sheets. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do.”

“Good,” you gently smacked his cheek and crawled off of your bed towards the bathroom.

“Where you going?” He asked, watching your naked body pad out of the room.

“Shower,” you merely said before popping your head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Billy was at your side within the blink of an eye.

hehehehehehehe let me know if yall like it 

[jbk405]

Season five is undoubtedly the best season of Star Wars: The Clone Wars when you take the season as a whole.  It concludes or addresses so many of the key plotpoints of the series, with some of the best character development, in complement with truly outstanding animation and choreography.  No episode can truly be called a dud.

It’s a masterpiece.

In the Wrong Jedi arc you can see that the Empire is here, because the Republic has been so thoroughly corrupted by Palpatine with barely anybody noticing.  Even those who notice have no idea at the cause, and direct their hatred at each other and other bystanders instead of the true culprit.

You can see the anger building in Anakin Skywalker.  And not the petty, immature, teenage rebellion that reflexively bucks against anybody in authority, but real rage at an institution that as far as he can tell is failing those it is supposed to protect.  This Anakin I can see falling to the Dark Side out of a misguided belief that it’s the right thing, and believing that he was driven to it by others.

You can see the crushing despair and self-doubt and regret in Ahsoka as she walks away from the Jedi.  Her faith in the order shattered not just by the way the organization tossed her aside, but by the way Barriss Offee -- her friend -- served her up for it.

The only thing I would change for the season as a whole is a little bit of pacing: The Youngling arc and the Droid Commando arc did not need four episodes each.  They could have each worked with three episodes, giving an extra episode each to the Maul Mandalore arc and the Wrong Jedi arc.  With five episodes apiece they could have taken a little bit more time to delve into each concept.  Conquering Mandalore itself could have had a proper focus (My only serious complaint with that arc is that it literally only takes half an episode to take over the planet) and then Maul’s takeover of Death Watch could have had its own dedicated episode.  If the Wrong Jedi had had another episode we could have spent time with Ahsoka in hiding on the Coruscant lower levels, eking out a living and discovering how the other half lives. We got to see this play out in season seven after the show was revived, but it would have really connected here and resonated with the accusations that the Jedi are no longer properly fulfilling their role in the Republic.

But if the only complaint I can muster is “there wasn’t enough of it”, you know how good it was.

[suhosguardian]

Fic Recommendations...🙃

So I don’t know but this may be a little different to normal fic recs? I’m not really sure but I’m just gonna list my favourite writers and my favourite stories from them soooo this might be a really long post but you know what? WHO CARES THESE PEOPLE DESERVE OUR LOVE!!! 

@marshmallow-phd aka. my favourite writer on Tumblr - AN ABSOLUTE WRITING GOD, will take you on an emotional rollarcoaster - brilliant, just brilliant. Has so many more brilliant stories but I’m just gonna link my absolute favouritessss. 

The Experiments - EXO OT12 - LuckyOne!AU - The best fan fiction I have ever read. Hands down. Nothing will ever compare to this story. I can’t really say much about this story without spoiling it but just WOW. - It was because of this story that Junmyeon became my bias. 🤭 The sequel The Wanderers is just as good, but the Experiments just takes the cake for me. 

The Untamed Universe - EXO OT12 - Werewolf!AU - There is a personalised series for 8 out of 12 of the members, and each story is so beautifully constructed and so different from the last which is what makes it so goooodddd. You don’t have to read them in order, but I recommend that you do in order to get the full story. However, my two favourite stories within this Universe are undoubtedly

Fighting Instinct - Jongdae (Part One).  

Charming Instruction  - Junmyeon (Part Five). This one resonated particularly well with me because the protagonists life goals are almost exactly the same as my own which just made the read so much more enjoyable for me. 

The Sins of the Father - EXO - Junmyeon - Mafia!AU My favourite genre to read is MafiaAu’s so this was pretty much my ideal story. Again, the world crafting is brilliant, the use of language amazing. And has a Luhan spinoff that is currently being written. 🙃

Now I’m just gonna list some other favourites. 

My Soul to Keep - Demon!AU - Kris - EXO

My Soul to Burn - Demon!AU - Minseok - EXO

Prey in the Knight - Vampire!AU - Kris - EXO

Crimes of the Heart - Vampire!AU - Luhan - EXO

His Heart at Stake - Vampire!AU - Minseok - EXO

His Brightest Star -  Mafia!AU - Jaebum - GOT7

@krreader - she has like 1000 masterlists because she has written so much it’s amazing, it also means that I literally can’t pick my favourites. 

Diamond Maknae - BTS - The diamond maknae series is brilliant, 8th member of BTS and it also incorporates other groups as well. I highly recommend thissssss!!!!

Like a Butterfly - BTS - Yoongi -  NonIdol!AU/ SingleDad!AU - Again I can’t say too much without spoiling it but it is so soft but angsty and it has a really really good ending. 

Competition - BTS & GOT7 - Jungkook, Taehyung, Jackson and BamBam. Fluff and angst. 4 boys fighting over a girl. I really love this  story. 

Now we come to a group of writers I refer to as ‘the New Rat Pack’ (George Clooney Matt Damon, Andy Garcia, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, Casey Affleck, Scott Caan, Elliott Gould, Bernie Mac and Carl Reiner - literally anyone in Ocean’s Eleven) of Tumblr Writers because they are so freaking amazing you can literally identify their group by the EXO Customs Series because they are all each writing a section of that but just wow. Okay, I’m just gonna list the writers and my all time favourite piece because if I don’t limit myself we will be here forever. 

@ninibears-erigom-fics - an actual Queen 

Pretty Little Vixen - Jongin - I feel so predictable having that one as my favourite but IT’S JUST WRITTEN SO FREAKING WELL - carshop!au, gang!au, racer!au - smut, angst, violence. (ongoing) 

@suhoerections

Sinful Pleasure - demon!Kyungsoo, demon!Chanyeol, demon!Jongdae - SMUT 

@kimjongdaely - (her part of EXO Customs; The Art of Sin is fantastic!)

Alluring - EXO OT9 - Mafia!AU & Motorcycle!AU - I dare you to find a happy ending. 😉 

@kyungseokie

Dichotomy - Junmyeon and Baekhyun - arrangedmarriage!au -angst, fluff, smut (ongoing)  

@kpop---scenarios

Collateral - EXO - Mafia!AU - Violence, Smut (ongoing)

@fairyyeols

The Taste of Gold - Baekhyun - CEO!AU - Fluff - this is one of my all time favourites!!!

Diamond Freckles - the smutty kinda angsty bonus chapter! 😉

@yeoldontknow

Replay - Junmyeon - Superhero!AU, angst, fluff, smut

@mint-yooxgi - AKA THE YANDERE QUEEN

Monster Series - Yandere!AU’s - this series is so creepy but so freaking goooooddddd - my personal favourites within this however are 

I Own You - CEO!Baekhyun - Horror, Angst, Smut

You’re Next - SerialKiller!Jongin (this one is actually terrifying tho like I had to sleep with my light on) - Horror, Angst, Semi-Smut

Seal The Deal - Demon!Chanyeol - Angst, Horror, Smut (this one is probably my favourite one)

@baekwell--tart

Angelic - Baekhyun - Fluff

-------

@noona-clock

Untitled - EXO - Junmyeon - he’s a YouTube Travel Vlogger, its just so soft and beautiful. It’s just really happy and I think that is what I like most about it.

Rumors - EXO - Junmyeon - Office!AU

Look After You - SHINEE - Minho - Regency!AU/SingleParent!AU

Which One? - Ji Soo or Joo Hyuk - CoffeeShop!AU 

@vampwrrr - you could read through the entire masterlist and not find a dud story. 

Haunted House - Junmyeon - hands down one of the fluffiest things I have read and I love it so much - just read it, it’s so beautiful.

End of the World as We Know It - Junmyeon - I guess you could call this an Apocalypse!AU? Maybe? But again sooooo fluffy and is full of Myeon’s bad puns it’s such a great storyyyyy!!!!

@dovechim

the dark side of the moon   & all it’s side stories!!!  - BTS - Jimin - Werewolf!AU - Smut 

catch your death  - BTS - Hoseok - Hybrid!AU - Royalty!AU - Smut 

@optimizche - another of my all time favourite authors!!! The whole masterlist is brilliant! 

The Brat Trilogy - EXO - Sehun and Junmyeon - SMUT - I LOVE THIS TRILOGY SO MUCH

My Answer - EXO - Junmyeon and Kris - Smut, Fluff, Angst (ongoing) 

@soobadnoonecanstopher

I Give Up - Baekhyun - Fluff, Smut, ANGST OH LORD THE ANGST -I love this story so much like I have made all my friends read it! 😂(I stand by Chapter 22 being the best chapter, I love it so much.)

2am - Minseok -  Romance, Smut, Angst - its kinda happening at the same time as I Give Up I think? 

@readyplayerhobi

Run Little Rabbit Trilogy - WolfShifter!Hoseok - Smut, Angst, Fluff

A Court of Curses - VampirePrince!Hoseok - Smut, Fluff, Angst

20 Things (and Counting) I Hades About You  - Hades!Jimin - Crack, Angst

I worked on this for 24hrs fkn help. When I said that this would be long I didn’t expect it to be 1000+ words I’m so sorry.... If I’ve missed anyone I’ll add them in when I remember! 🙃 ❤️❤️❤️

[h3l10tr0p3]

Bnha Spoilers Chapter 232-235 ahead:

Shigaraki Tomura's Past

This is an analysis of what we know as of yet about the boy born as Shimura Tenko.

The Shimura Household-

Shimura Koutarou, son of Shimura Nana (7th OfA holder, and All Might's mentor) is a successful businessman who owns a two-family home, invites the parents of his in-laws to stay. The joint family consists of- Koutarou, his wife, his in-laws, his (elder) daughter Hana, his son Tenko and their Corgi Mon-chan.

From the start, Shigaraki describes this family as a family of his Father- Koutaro, and not the family of the eldest in the household (the in-laws). It gives us a clear idea of where exactly the authority lies and how much of an influence he holds over its members.

The family is a really well-off one: Two cars, a two-stored suburban condo with a seperate study, a lovely backyard, and they have a pet dog. Shimura Tenko was far from poverty.

Let's look at the members

The Grandparents

Clearly, they love Tenko and Hana a lot, and dote upon their grandkids as grandparents are wont to. But they are 'adults' the same as Tenko's father and Tenko's mother.

When Tenko keeps craving for approval and validation of his dreams to be a Hero from an adult figure, they their try to distract him into psuedo-satisfaction (with his favourite food) or try to (mildly) guilt-trip the boy so that his dreams and his 'inconvenient' calls for acceptance remain buried under the 'happy and peaceful' suburban dream that they seem wary of breaking (and it seems like they are wary of provoking the final authority in the family, Koutarou)

These kind of actions are incredibly commonplace and it happens all the time - this doesn't make their actions excusable though, only relatable. But from another point of view it implies that the grandparents are meek and might actually be afraid of Koutarou for either of two reasons- his known history of violence or the instability of his character (more on this later).

The Mother

She is also caring and loving just like her parents- she takes care of Tenko, is incredibly worried about his allergies. rushes after Tenko when The Father pulls him away to punish him, and finally confronts him when he has gone way too far. But Like begets like, environment moulds character. Thus, she too is another meek personality who cannot stand up against the overbearing authority of the patriarch up until the last moment where violence gets involved. She too is undoubtedly aware that Koutarou can indeed get violent and grim- and this makes her the cautious parent, the stopgap, trying to keep the children in line so that the Father doesn't have to resort to drastic measures. Thus, despite all the love she can shower her son with, she never once supports Tenko's dream. Again, it's understandable. It's cause she knows very intimately what happens to the families of Heroes - she married the man who came from such a family. Instead of supporting Tenko, she asks him if he is sure of it, perhaps trying to seed doubts in his mind, perhaps being sympathetic to his wishes. But rven when Tenko repeats he likes to play Hero and was really happy when his friend compared him with All Might (showing us once more how deeply rooted the currently retired Hero was in Tenko's childhood)- the mother never really encourages Tenko's dream.

When Tenko asks if his dad hates him for being possibly quirkless, she says it isn't so. It's just that his father knows how hard a Hero's life is. And that's that.

You can see that longing for approval in Tenko's eye and the disappointment that follows when the words he yearns for (You can be a Hero) remain unsaid once more. Up till now, 3 people, 3 adults out of 4 have denied this dream and the last adult, The Father, is vehemently adverse to it.

"Children can be surprisingly self-centered and straight forward"

Let's take a small break here from the family members- here, we see one of the two monologues that has been repeated in the chapter 'Children can be surprisingly self-centered and straight forward'. Ngl, I thought this was Shigaraki commenting how his friends Mikkun and Tomo-chan repeatedly left him out when they played together. But the sequence of scenes, gives me a different idea.

From what I gather, it is Shigaraki saying that 'Tenko' as a child, was self-centered and straight-forward. Because right after his conversation with his mother he should have felt dissuaded from continuing with his dream to be a Hero, it has already worried his mother, grandparents and sister, and possibly led him to believe- that his father hated him. However in the very next panel, we see Tenko has gotten into trouble for persisting with that dream and getting into trouble for playing 'Hero'. Shigaraki, as an adult, has begun to condemn that idea in retrospection- going as far as to alienate himself from the past by reffering to his own childhood self with a generalization - 'children'. (There is an alternative reason for this)

Self-centered because Tenko didn't think of the grief and unease of his family when he continued to dream;

Straight-forward because Tenko doesn't have the complex rationale of an adult to support his dream. He selfishly wishes to be a Hero, not for anyone else, but only for himself - there is no other reason for it. A child shouldn't have anymore complicated reasoning for it either.

But Shigaraki clearly considers this his own folly for giving into such emotions at that time.

The second time where this line is repeated when The Father comes up threateningly towards Tenko with the intention of punishing him.

Contrary to the previous use of thia line, here it implies that there is a different subject as the panel moves directly from Hana to Tenko. Which brings up two possibilities -

The line is meant for Tenko himself again. But it doesn't seem to fit.

It is meant for Hana.

Before I explain how it is directed towards Hana, let's return to the Shimura family

Hana

For a few chapters, Hana has been portrayed as Tenko's only true sympathizer and supporter who takes his side in the world of dream-crippling 'Adults'. Although she is maybe only 2 or 4 years older than Tenko, Hana has the wisdom that becomes the first-born, elder sister- she displays incredible emotional intelligence and understands her family dynamics well, probably from past experience. She knows that their Father would get mad at her if she openly declares her intentions to become a part of the Hero-Sibling duo with her younger brother, so instead she tells him that he wants to become a housewife like her mother - a very tactical answer indeed. I suggest so, because in turn it again subtly hints at how fearsone the Father's temper can be, which in fact gets so bad at times that Hana does not take any chances of tempting this ire by suggesting any profession other than that of a Hero. Saying 'housewife' is safe. It keeps her in the clear. From this itself, we can interpret that she values her self-preservation, and is prepared to bend her morality for it

But exactly how far will she go to protect herself? We get that answer very soon-

To evade punishment from the Father, Hana, makes Tenko the scapegoat by suggesting that he was the one who roped her into commiting what was forbidden. It put majority of the blame on Tenko's poor shoulders. Was it cruel of her? Yes. Dud she want to do it? No. Why would she do something so cruel to him if she didnt want to see Tenko hurt then?

The answer is simple-

Hana probably did not think things your escalate so far. Yeah, she probably imagined her Father would be incredibly pissed and take it out on Tenko, but she didn't think it would go down the road of physical violence. What she did was not right, absolutely not. But can we really blame her for it? This is a child, we are talking about. By nature children are afraid to enrage authority, and Hana is no different. She was self-centered in what she did. But did she lie? Not really. Her wording might seem to the Father that it was completely Tenko's idea, but 'he wanted to see it', is not a lie. It's straight-forward. Tenko did want to see the photograph once he was told about it.

From what we have ascertained to be the common vein in all the members and how they have each failed Tenko in their own way is the Father. Either they are sympathetic of his past or afraid of his temper- the later being more prevalent and pronounced in it's effects. Tenko too, at some premature level, understands that all this happens because of his Father's Authority. Thus comes the second idea which was repeated twice-

"The house that my Father built"/ "This house was the one my Father built"

This line is always mentioned in conjunction to Tenko's punishments and can be said that Shigaraki considers his Home a Punishment in itself too.

This idea is reinforced with this simple statement.

"It only itches at home"

The implications of this are perhaps more grave. This instance mentioned is by no means Tenko's first punishment. Tenko has gone through enough of them to have come to anticipate the emotional pain (and on one instance, physical) with every misdemeanour he commits. The cycle goes from his Dream to a Misdeed, to Home, to Punishment to Pain. It's a water-tight assembly line. No surprise why Tenko would come to think of his Dream as a Source of Pain later on. But at this point in his childhood we see how the flowchart cements the aspect of Home = Punishment.

We know (or at least conjecture) that the dermatitis that affects Shigaraki might be a side effect of his quirk as it has begun at such a young age. With that logic, it isn't a leap to say that since his quirk's effects Only at his Home (his source of Pain), it is a Protective Response. Shigaraki's quirk is Decay. It activates to Decay noxious stimuli - like pain. Like his Home.

(Please excuse the horrible squiggly lines)

Why does this happen sting occur then?

Instinct. Quirks are physical abilities which heavily relies on instinct - which explains why Bakugou is so flawless in his control, he is 'pure instinct'; or why All Might had very little difficulty is mastering OfA - the answer is Instinct. In Tenko's case, it is the instinct to Protect Himself. Because right after he throws the ball and looks at his hand, his Father storms in with a brutal intent. That Sting is his Quirk telling him to Protect Himself. It isn't dog hair, or some indoor allergen that makes him hurt. He hurts because pain is the most powerful noxious stimuli that can incite a protective response.

It has a psychological as well as a physiological effect on Tenko. He hurts because he expects it. It's his body's way of telling him that 'If you dont use your quirk now- you'll hurt even more".

After the Father has hit Tenko. A new emotion takes the position of 'stimulant' for his quirk and that is

Hatred

In here, Tenko throws a ball for the Dog and immediately after he feels a sting. At first it seems as if it might actually be from the Dog. But it doesn't make sense. Tenko says that it gets worse only inside the House, not outside it. Yet in this one instance, he feels a particularly violent sting not just outside the house, but also AFTER he as stopped touching the Dog. It isn't the post-monsoon moisture either which is making him hurt, his narration doesn't really serve as a clue as to what causes his allergy, it simply lends the vividness with which Shigaraki remembers this important moment in his life.

Another thing to notice. Shigaraki never once says "This is the Home my Father built"

He says House. Shigaraki has deliberately used House here, because he doesnt feel any familial warmth from this place anymore, and hasn't for a while now. Instead what he feels from this 'House' is pain and denial.

I am gonna break character here just to scream about this part. (*takes deep breath*)

Okay...

Children-

Not Child. But CHILDREN. PLURAL. FUCKING PLURAL.

NANA SHIMURA HAD MORE THAN ONE CHILD.

Koutarou is not her only child!! She has another child!!! And any fucking guesses who?

MIDORIYA INKO

Both All Might and Izuku have agreed (indirectly at the very least) that Midoriya Inko has a likeness to Shimura Nana. SHIGARAKI AND IZUKU ARE COUSINS. I REPEAT. THEY. ARE. COUSINS!!

I don't give a fuck if this doesn't turn out to be canon. The manga reader can give me documented fucking proof and say it to my goddamn face that Shigaraki and Izuku are not cousins, Dabi is not a Todoroki, Inko didn't accidentally marry the biggest baddest evil legend of Quirk Era. I am gonna spit at their faces if they dare to feed that horseshit to me after THIS level of FORESHADOWING.

((Edit: Some Corrections and more Useless TRIVIA ABOUT CONNECTING SHIMURA KOUTAROU AND MIDORIYA INKO))

Okay, now to end this shitty long post!!

The Father

We are meant to hate Koutarou. We do hate him - he has imposed the absolute law of his will upon an entire family and terrorizes them with his temper. We should hate him. But then we are given a snippet of his past- A boy whose mom was hardly there for him and his sibling(s?), who left them behind to fight some evil guy without choosing her family and ultimately choose her duty as a hero over her family. But despite having this animosity towards his mother, Koutarou wishes that Nana had hated him, instead of loved him so much. He says so because then it woukd have been easier for Koutarou to whole-heartedly hate his mother for leaving them behind. But she truly, selflessly loved him - he understands that and still doesn't forgive her, because he wanted her to selfishly choose her family above everything else. Her absence has left a hole in his life that he cannot fill with hatred, nor with love - he is caught in this infuriating middle where he laments his short temper against Tenko, but also fears that his own child might be ripped away from his family again because of Tenko's dream. Heroics has taken the most important things from Koutarou's life and he doesn't want to see it happen again- he is prepared to go to any lengths to prevent that from happening. But he acknowledges that violence was a step too far. He blames his mother for his insecurities and fears of losing his family again.

In fact, Koutarou's desire for a complete family is so immense that he solely bought that two-family house for the exact reason he could invite his in-laws. He even calls them 'Mother' and 'Father' directly, as if they were his own. It doesn't fill that gaping hole in his heart that yearns for Nana, but it's atleast something.

Koutarou is not a good person. He is not meant to be, he is supposed to be relatable like so many bad guys in the manga - Everyone is a Hero in their own lives, everyone believes what they do is (if not right, then) for the better.

Fear drives Koutarou to extreme actions and cruelty. And I am convinced that whatever Tenko will have to suffer in the future due to his father will also be a byproduct of his immense fear of losing his family.

Does this imply that Tenko hates his Father?

Paradoxically, no. Although Tenko says he Hates everyone it isn't so for Shigaraki. Shigaraki keeps the 'Father' hand closest to Himself. Even when Bakugou knocked out the 'Father' hand, that itself was enough to spike Shigaraki's temper. He didn't have any recollection of his family then, but he still held on to it. Shigaraki, much like Koutarou himself, doesn't hate their parent - but is lodged in an in-between. For Shigaraki he is seeking his Father's approval even when he is long gone, he is carrying forward the misinterpretted hatred of Heroes by being a Villain set out to destroy everything. Out of everyone in the Shimura Family, Shigaraki constantly keeps craving the acceptance of one Adult Figure, and whose acceptance would mean the most? Obviously the one who held most Authority, whose opinion matters most. His Father.

Tenko may have decayed his family's everything but their hands. We know from previous chapters that he might have been handled with other equipment instead of direct skin contact because his family members were afraid of his power. But, instinctively again, Tenko wanted their physical contact so dearly that his quirk ended up decaying everything But their hands.

The Hands were the only things left because Tenko's power couldn't bring itself to destroy his last chance of physical contact with his family.

[a-crimson-lion]

Strengths... and Weaknesses

I think an appropriate phrase for this post would be:

"Lord forgive me... I'm back on my bullsh*t."

Anyone who's been viewing my tumblr recently knows of my excessive hatred for one Katsuki Bakugo. I have stated time and time again that he's a gigantic asshole who only managed to tone it down a notch or two as of late. He might be the slightest bit more tolerable then he was at the start (I'm not the type to say that Katsuki had no development; I'm the type to say his development is there, but it's slow and poorly executed), but he's still overall an asshole.

In fact, before I start this post, I want to make a few things clear on where I still currently stand with Katsuki, as a person who has only seen up to Season 3 of the anime and read up to the Shie Hassaikai Arc in the manga.

First off, let's address one of the more triggering parts of the series: Katsuki's suicide instigation. Horikoshi has apparently stated that he "went too far" with Katsuki in the first chapter of the manga, and for me and maybe a few others, that sounds like if Horikoshi was given the option, he might have written out that scene entirely. Well, okay then, I understand that much; I mean, Katsuki was never that level of harsh once the story started to really kick off. So what does that change?

ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

From where I stand, even if you ignore or flat out rewrite Katsuki telling Izuku to kill himself out of the story, that still doesn't change the fact that Katsuki is still a terrible person with very little development. He still bullied Izuku since they were kids. He still burned his notebook and threatened Izuku while burning his school uniform to not go to U.A. He attempted to harm Izuku on their first day at U.A., and during the Battle Trial, used a highly dangerous piece of support gear which could have very much killed Izuku (instead of, you know, using the capture tape?). He's still anti-social as all hell, which isn't a crime in and of itself until you realize that being a hero requires at least some form of cooperation. Even Eraserhead, an underground hero (which is probably as potentially anti-social as you can get) still at the very least has to work with other Pros and the authorities with some level of respectful communication. Katsuki's on his way to becoming the second Endeavor (which, depending on how the latter's redemption pans out, might be even worse than before).

That last bit is probably more the fault of my second grievence: the narrative coddles him too much. Yes, being consistently kidnapped by villains is very much not okay and is probably very traumatising, but that doesn't mean he's realizing he's becoming a better person. After the sludge incident, he didn't bother Izuku because he was too occupied with his own inferiority complex; he was angry at himself for not being "strong enough," and spent his time up to the entrance exam stewing in his insecurities. While at U.A., he gets no form of proper addressment for his actions. Eraserhead is willing to restrain Katsuki, but he won't expel him, or at the very least talk to him. Katsuki goes volatile during the Battle Trial, but no one discusses and addresses how much excessive force he uses. During the final exam, Katsuki isn't docked for his initial inability to cooperate and the fact that it took a literal punch to the face to begin doing such, and even then, Izuku caried his already beaten body past the gate, which means he technically passed. He should have been failed for his actions, maybe the villains wouldn't have been able to kidnap him during the Training Camp arc. Speaking of which, why doesn't he go back to camp and save his classmates the trouble? He just wants to fight, and this simple-minded desire ends up getting him kidnapped. And what does he learn from that kidnapping? Again, "he's weak." No introspection on his behavior except for a minor one before Deku vs Kacchan 2. No discussing his actions because he can't bring himself to be the bigger man and just talk to All Might. No, he has to bring out Izuku in the middle of the night and pummel him, and we're supposed to feel sorry for the kid because he's going through an existential crisis. Which I would feel bad, had it not been for the fact that it could have been avoided, AND his behavior aside, he's going through all the wrong coping methods. I don't care if he only knows how to express himself with violence, that fact alone warrants heaps upon heaps of propery therapy, NOT FURTHER VIOLENCE.

Before I officially take a complete dive into "anti" territory, let's look at one last thing.

Remember after Kamino Ward when Katsuki had Denki electrocute himself and he gave Eijiro some money as compensation for spending it on some fancy binoculars. Well, some of the antis I've seen have claimed the money was stolen from Denki. Personally, I don't see it. I can see Katsuki causing Denki to electrocute himself to show his begrudging care for his fellow classmates (even if it's still trying to grow). I can see Katsuki giving Eijiro money for his troubles, even if it's a blow to Katsuki's pride. I just can't see Katsuki stealing money from other people. Sure, he's an asshole, but he's not a thief. His morals are warped, not corrupted beyond the point of redemption.

Okay, so what dud I really want to talk about? Oh, right: Katsuki's obsession with strength.

We see this about three times in the manga. The first time is when Katsuki is saved by All Might at the USJ. He quickly dismisses Izuku's praise of him dodging because he didn't dodge: All Might pushed him out of danger. He won't take credit for a feat he didn't do. This segues into the second instance: his fight with Shoto. He wants Shoto to go all out in order to prove once and for all that he's the strongest in their class. Only Shoto is going through personal issues that Katsuki knows about because he eavesdropped. Even when Shoto manages to releaae his flames, he quickly snuffs them out because change is gradual; he still has to get used to the new implications of using his fire. (Sidenote: not an excuse for Katsuki's dickish behavior. Tenya and Shoto were initially percieved as assholes, and they managed to bridge that disconnect eons before Katsuki has.) Of course Katsuki's pissed at this, but I feel like he completely ignores Shoto's personal baggage and instead focuses soley on his physical strength. We'll get back to that later, but for now, let's move on to the third incident I can recall from the top of my head: Katsuki vs Setsuna. Remember that part of the Joint Training Arc where Katsuki saves Kyoka, because he FINALLY understands that saving people is important? Well, yes, but partially no. Katsuki didn't save Kyoka because of whatever goodness there was in his heart; he saved her because he thought getting a 4-0 victory was something worthy of the strongest heroes, and he even explicitly stated this. He's still focused on strength, and completely ignoring the more social aspects if heroism aside from prestige.

Remember after Deku vs Kacchan 2, where All Might says he focused too much on Katsuki's physical strength and not his emotional strength. Yeah, he's not the only one...

Katsuki himself never pays attention to the emotional side of himself. Years upon years of praise and his own decisions have led him to believe that his strong quirk and overall strengths are all he needs to become a hero. His brutal and excessive technique makes him a powerhouse to be reckoned with, but it also makes him predictably stubborn. Running away isn't an option, he has to duke it out with no remorse. The Number One Hero is about to curb stomp you? Don't run away and pass the test, try beating his ass and end up losing your lunch! Potentially dangerous villains trying to kidnap you? No worries, just keep fighting because you're a badass and no one tells you what to do- and oh, you got kidnapped. Even when confronting Izuku on his quirk, the possibility of Izuku getting his quirk for something other than physical prowess is a foreign concept for Katsuki. He ignores any and all chances of it being possibility, going so far as telling Izuku to shut up when he tries to explain himself, and even outright attacking Izuku after he tries deescalating the fight multiple times, only conceeding to Katsuki because he believes he's responsible for Katsuki to some extent (because Shonen Protagonist).

His obsession with strength is in character, but dear God it's getting old... and it's selfish.

Virtually everyone else trying to be a hero has a reason for getting stronger that isn't inherently to flaunt their superiority. Ochako? She wants to make money so her folks can rest easy. Tenya? He wants to live up to his family's legacy. Shoto? He wants to be able to protect his mom. Eijiro? He wants to be like his chivalrous idol, Crimson Riot. Izuku? He wants to get a better grasp on his quirk so he can save more people. Katsuki? He wants to prove that he's better than All Might from a physical standpoint, using the title of "Number One Hero" to elevate his status and earn the attention of everyone around him.

...see the disconnect?

I don't have a well thought out conclusion to this mess, so I'm just gonna close with this tidbit: Katsuki and Izuku sometimes do the same things for different reasons. Getting mad at Shoto? Izuku wants Shoto to go all out because everyone else is going all out, and he wants Shoto to move past his father's control; Katsuki wants Shoto to go all out because he wants to prove he's undoubtedly stronger. Idolizing All Might? Izuku admires All Might's ability to inspire and save people; Katsuki just pays attention to the physical strength and prestige, electing to ignore everything else. Saving people? Izuku saves people selflessly, with no inherent regard towards himself (he will gladly break a few bones or risk doing so just to save kids, for crying out loud); Katsuki only saves people because it strokes his own ego (the only time he ever truly went beyond was in an unnecessary fight against All Might; Two Heroes is the only exception). I'm pretty sure the list goes on.

I just hope that Katsuki learns somehow, some way, that physical strength isn't everything. Victory isn't everything. 'Cause if he doesn't, he's in for a world of hurt...

...and it's not gonna be something he can just explode and be done with.

-Crimson Lion (6 September 2019)

[anlovagiftstore]

Why is a pet portrait a wonderful present?

We all have the same issue every time it’s a loved one’s birthday, anniversary, or another significant occasion. What kind of present is ideal? A touching photo of the cherished pet that the pet parent will cherish always is the best present for any pet parent.

Pet portraits can brighten our homes as we can commemorate the affection of our family members’ pets. Due to a variety of factors, pet pictures are regarded as the perfect present for any animal lover.

We’ll go through the benefits of a Custom pet portrait in this post so you can pick the ideal present for your loved ones as well as where to find the greatest, most expertly created pet portrait from your photo.

Why is a pet portrait an excellent present?

Incredible present

Pet portraits are prized as memorable gifts since they exhibit feelings and emotions. The gift’s sentimental elements are the finest way to convey its significance.

If you are also a pet parent, you will have no trouble comprehending the degree of attachment. Let’s say someone presents you with a unique pet portrait. If such is the case, you will never forget it because every time you see it, you will think of the individual who recognized your love for your pet.

A unique gift

A distinctive and different gift is adored by all. Which gift would you prefer to receive — a typical item from the store from one buddy or a pet painting of your furry friend from the other? A second effort from a friend who values your opinion will undoubtedly impress you.

An excellent surprise

One of the best things about pet photos is that they make the ideal surprise gifts because your loved ones won’t anticipate them. Your loved one will like this gift due to its emotional impact and originality. When your loved one receives and views the pet photo as a gift, you may anticipate a significant and very emotional response.

The ideal present for art enthusiasts

You may anticipate receiving excellent artwork when you purchase a pet portrait from one of the best and most reputable portrait artists, like Anlova. For any art enthusiast, it will be the pinnacle of art. Your effort in selecting the best present for them will be much appreciated.

A pet portrait is an ideal present for a loved one who values both animals and art. It will make him/her happy.

Not constrained to a certain gender or age group

Pet portraits can be given to anyone, regardless of gender or age, unlike other types of gifts. This present is appropriate for anybody who likes animals, including your partner, best friend, parents, siblings, coworkers, and spouses.

What store has the best pet portraits?

You should go to Anlova if you want the best pet portrait. Simply browse the portrait collection first to select the ideal piece in this case. The next step is to choose and upload the top pet picture. Placing the order now will allow you to unwind while they handle the rest.

Tips and Tricks for Pet Photography

There will be many photos you need to shoot that are duds, but there will also be some real jewels in there. Here is some further advice for expert pet photography:

Put yourself at your pet’s level.

Instead of capturing the photo from a high point, knelt down or lay on the ground. Also, attempt a few shots at close range. If your pet has a tendency to retreat, approach slowly while holding a treat or use a telescopic lens.

Abstain from busy backdrops.

Consider what is behind and around your pet. You want your pet to command attention. Your pet’s coat can be contrasted with plain white walls, a sizable area of green grass, or a light or dark solid carpet.

Make use of daylight.

For animals who might become nervous near a flash, lots of natural light is recommended. You can take pictures of your cat or dog close to a large window that gets plenty of sunlight.

Make sure your pet is well-groomed.

Consider grooming your dog, for example. Brush them well, then use a soft cloth to remove any goop from the area around the eyes.

While filming, talk to your pet.

Research demonstrates that dogs comprehend human language and feelings more adeptly than you could have imagined. As you try to take fascinating pictures, make use of this to your advantage.

Get your camera prepared.

You never know when your canine companion will do something that will make for a good shot. You can record these priceless moments if you have a camera or phone nearby.

Most importantly, enjoy yourself and unleash your creativity.

Conclusion

Our pets play a significant role in our lives and receive the same level of affection as our children. Any pet lover would appreciate receiving a pet photo as a present because it will not only preserve precious memories but also have sentimental value.

[bigskydreaming]

Dropping off another commission which means okay NOW I only have one to finish. This one is a throwback to that time I was talking Marvel/DC crossover ships, and I said okay but what about Dick/Wanda because yeah, like two of the only Rom heroes in anywhere being a thing would be pretty cool, but also like.

Batfam + Magnetfam holiday dinner gatherings.

Someone agreed, and asked for more along those lines and asked that I not worry about the crack potential but feel free to embrace it instead, citing that Batboys adopted by Zatanna AU I wrote as a tone they’d enjoyed. Their only other requests were they wanted to see if I could include Luna and Crystal in any ways, and that I give Stephanie some time in the spotlight. I warned them that my usual take on Stephanie is ADHD as hell, but that apparently was not a problem, so uh...hang on when it gets to Steph or be prepared for her to leave you in the dust. She doesn’t slow down for stragglers.

There were a ton of characters to juggle in this so not everyone gets the same degree of focus, but I did my best to work everyone relevant to the scenario in as best I could. Also, I don’t actually know where a couple of these particular takes came from - I’ve never ever written Lorna anything remotely like this in my life, but I kinda just let the crack do what it wanted to do. *Shrugs* I have no defense, only oops.

Anyway, without further ado, I give you 15K, yes you heard that right, 15K of crossover crack that puts the Batfamily and the Magnetfamily at the same dinner table, lights the match and then runs for cover.

************************

We enter unobtrusively through the dining room’s lone doorway. Our awkward approach is that of the mockumentary style; our hushed atmosphere is that of taking ourselves very seriously, because if we don’t, who will? 

Said dining room’s doorway is perfectly situated so as to allow only one point of entrance and exit. Also: maximum drama while doing so. The architecture of Wayne Manor was designed with a clear set of priorities in mind. We invite you to picture the airs of Downtown Abbey, but  as if skewing less towards the egalitarian passive aggressive stylings associated with British High Drama, and more towards the rather more direct passive aggressive stylings of American High Drama. 

As an example...where a British soap opera might depict someone dramatically gasping “Why, I never!” and clutching symbolically at their heart in order to convey they’re mere insults away from having a myocardial infarction, an American soap opera might instead depict someone dramatically yelling “Bleep you!” and then vaulting across the table to punch someone in the face in order to convey they’re really quite angry and the only way to fully express that is by starting a feud that will last 72 episodes and only end when one of them is murdered and replaced by their evil twin.

That sort of thing. 

We return to unobtrusively entering through the doorway whose very singular purpose in the narrative is as a conveyance that this is the House That Drama Built. 

It should be added as an afterthought that only just occurred to us but is no less important because of its poor punctuality: the House That Drama Built also exists as a kind of metaphysical Drama vampire that cultivates an atmosphere of Drama whilst simultaneously feasting on the Drama it creates just to harvest as its crop of choice.

Quite nasty and shiver-inducing, to be sure, but let it serve as a good rule of thumb: Don’t trust centuries old rich people houses. There’s always something messed up about those places. Seriously. You know its true.

Proceeding onward, and despite having explicitly mapped out why its impossible to do so, we nevertheless manage to sidle into prime vantage points without being noticed. Look, we can do stuff like that because we’re magic, okay? Also fictional, and really just a tonal framing device introduced as a thin coat of varnish overlaying everything with the glistening sheen of crack fiction. Now shush and pretend we’re not here, which should be easy because we’re not.

The two family patriarchs, Erik Lehnsherr and Bruce Wayne, each sit at opposing heads of the excessively long dining room table that is almost certainly an indication one of Bruce’s direct ancestors felt a clear and urgent need to overcompensate for something.

Locked in an epic battle of wills that looks remarkably similar to the staring contest perfected by kindergartners everywhere, though that’s undoubtedly just a coincidence,the two titans of temperament face off in a face-off for the ages. 

Both steel-faced and with backs so straight the sight would make any right angle weak in the knees, these bastions of brooding are equally infamous for their rigidity and refusal to bend, even when they probably should - because sometimes its a battle over the fate of the world and a fight for the very heart and soul of humanity, yes, absolutely true, but other times their children just asked if they could have pizza tonight instead of meatloaf and it really didn’t need to escalate that quickly, but oh well.

Heedless of the judgment of fictional narrators as well as every person to ever suggest to them that their sphincters might actually benefit from the occasional attempt to unclench, the Master of Magnetism is an irresistible force while channeling the unleashed totality of his willpower through his steady gaze, as fixed and unwavering as the North Star itself. At the same time, his counterpart is an equally immovable object while planted firm and steady in his convictions, the imposing edifice of his impassive expression not likely to be eroded by the mere disdain of another mortal. Not when the Man of Bats has stubbornly stared down gods. 

Admittedly, the last one used the opportunity to blast him through time and space instead, but that’s the kind of risk one takes when matching an ageless deity ego for ego. It should not be viewed as an indication as to whom among these two mighty mortals might appear the victor when engaged in similar combat. Especially as neither is in possession of magic eye beams which technically should count as cheating, if you really think about it.

They match each other fractional eye squint for fractional eye squint. Both lost in the intensity of each other’s gaze in a way that regardless of tropes is less enemies to lovers and more enemies to psych, we’re still enemies and if our kids do tie the knot, I’m totally going to insist on hosting the wedding at my big-ass mansion and you can call that a power move if you want because it totally is, what about it?

In response to the challenge that’s conveyed with crystal clarity thanks to the power of crack, Erik’s own gaze narrows fractionally further as he reaches down with his mutant abilities until they chance upon a vein of iron miles deep. He then proceeds to push and pull on it in such a way as to make the earth shift beneath their feet.

He is not subtle about being the cause. That sort of thing isn’t really in his wheelhouse.

However, in the name of defending Erik from his children’s exasperated glares, it should be pointed out here that Bruce did in fact ask, what about it, and Erik did in his own fashion simply indicate what about it indeed.

Well. Sorta.

The initial clash of wills meeting wills subsides and assures both men that their opponent will be no easy pushover. With that, the concrete aspiring contenders retreat once more to their far sides. They proceed to keep eyes locked and faces solemn and still, neither taking their gaze off the other even while eating or responding to some conversation piece directed at them by another denizen of the dining room.

“This is quite the meal, Mr. Pennyworth. You are to be commended,” Erik says sincerely. His face is still as smooth as Lake Placid, with nary a Syfy Original killer crocodile lurking dangerously beneath the surface.

“Yes, truly some of your best work, Alfred, thank you,” Bruce adds completely deadpan, not to be outdone.

Eternally placing his professionalism above all else, Alfred waits until he’s out of the room and halfway to the kitchen before venting an exasperated exhalation of his own.

Of course, Wayne Manor does have excellent acoustics.

Elsewhere along the table’s lengths, Pietro and Damian also keep their stares deadlocked from across each other, never deviating throughout the entirety of their meal. Their detente, however, is more accurately termed an ‘arrogance-off,’ with each refusing to give way before a lesser opponent. If Pietro is remotely bothered that he’s deeply invested in establishing his superiority over a twelve year old, it doesn’t show.

Look, if he starts making allowances for age, where would it end? With him letting toddlers walk all over him simply because they managed not to blink first? Don’t be absurd.

On the other side of Pietro, Jason is gleefully lobbing conversational grenades down the length of the table. Seizing advantage of even the slightest lull, he packs every sparse moment of silence full of yet another philosophical hot take he’s strategically brainstormed to cause maximum conscience carnage. 

Each carelessly uttered but carefully aimed moral dilemma-turned-mortar fire is tactically engineered towards setting each and every highly opinionated diner to warring over the higher ground. There are always holdouts of course, those who instead hunker deeper down in their trenches in an attempt to wait out the bombardment without engaging. Persistence has never been something Jay lacks, however, so even the few duds that fail to properly detonate only end up followed by a rapid-fire encore the first chance he has to reload.

Meanwhile, Lorna downs a glass of wine like its a shot of tequila and she’s a veteran of the collegiate drinking experience. Then again, she actually is, even if most tend to forget that. It doesn’t quite lend the same weight to her resume as actual freaking superhero, you’re welcome for the planet’s continued state of existence does, so she doesn’t tend to lead with it. 

But that doesn’t mean that even this dubiously termed ‘skill’ lacks a time to shine. One does what one has to in order to make it through family gatherings when the family in question is hers, the mistress of magnetism maintains. Be sure to note both lower case m’s in the script of her full title, because sharing a powerset with her father doesn’t mean she actually has to indulge in silly shows of power with the sole purpose of establishing one’s right to self-brand with fully capitalized letters. 

She finds such things exhaustively tedious, as dull as they are droll, and as much as she loves her father, she could really stand to see him embarrass himself less in public, with his ridiculous insistence on those farces.

In his defense, the enemies that flee in terror upon such displays, wetting themselves all the while...well, clearly they’re suitably impressed. But that doesn’t mean Lorna can’t still be embarrassed for him. Honestly, would it really kill him to act his actual age of....

Oh hell. She’s not nearly drunk enough yet to try and make sense of her father’s age. 

Full disclosure, and also full awareness that her brother will never fail to bring up her own recorded instances of ridiculous grandstanding whenever its remotely relevant, and most other opportunities as well - yes, those happened, yes, she agrees they were ridiculous and necessary, but she also requests it be on the record that in all such instances she was either very young, very possessed, or very both.

Probably.

Look, the possessed thing happens often enough its not like even she can keep track of it. If she wants to squeeze a few perks out of that particular trend towards things that are obnoxious and unnecessary for five hundred, Alex, she’s damn well entitled.

And why, in the name of all the gods she hasn’t been teammates with and seen drunkenly stumbling around in their underwear at some point, is she picturing her ex Alex’s face when whimsically thinking of the Jeopardy host? Better question, why is she still not drunk enough to not give a shit if she does?

Ugh, if this leads to her having to admit Betsy was right and she’s begun indulging in her family’s tendency towards being excessive about anything and everything that keeps their minds off boringly pedestrian events like a break-up, well. That would really suck. 

Mostly because Betsy is unbearable when she’s right about anything.

Driven to extreme measures by the fact that her thoughts are being rude and contentious and mean to her, Lorna trades introspection for the potential hazards of engaging directly with her dinner companions. Risky as that may be. They could be more unbearable than Betsy, for all she knows. And bad things tend to happen when she gives strangers the benefit of the doubt. She usually ends up disappointed, or bored.

Also, possessed.

Girding herself with jaded detachment, Lorna resigns herself to the mortifying ordeal of having to know other people - people who when taking into account her sister’s track record with such matters, could easily turn out to be serial killers or even worse, annoying robots. 

Shuddering at the memory of the Pencil Sharpener That Walks Like A Man, she surveys the chaos she’d mistaken for white noise when still busy being her own entertainment. Its slightly livelier than she’d assumed it would be.

Lorna’s never lacked her father’s eye for tactical analysis and strategic scheming, to be clear. Its more that she’s absent his desire to see her molded into any kind of mini-me that could potentially carry on where he leaves off when he dies, as if no interruption has taken place.

But never mind her issues with her father, that she steadfastly refuses to refer to as Daddy issues. Coolly assessing the commotion around her, she decides the only role worth adopting here is that of the official fanner of flames. The only side worth taking is of course the only side ever worth taking: hers, obviously.

She wades in without any warning beyond a green-lipped smile that toes the line between bearing just enough menace to act as a threat, but never so much as to warn people to take sufficient precautions when facing her.

It’s been said that the difference between her and her father is that Magneto causes natural disasters.

Lorna is one.

Wasting no time before establishing herself as an enemy to all and a friend to none, as if she needs any, she sets up shop as a random sequencer with no allegiance or agenda other than making everyone regret insisting on her attendance. 

She deftly diverts Jason’s verbal volleys off their intended course with dry, sardonic wit and she wields sly insinuations like a racket with which she redirects grenades of great ethical weight at whomever strikes her fancy. She is whimsy: watch her do whatever the hell she wants. Object, and catch hellfire.

Rather than take offense at her interference, Jason tips his head to her in appreciation of her craft. Like calls to like, after all. Lorna decides in a burst of decisiveness that she likes this one, at least. 

She tilts her glass to him with a smirk and refills, topping off Kate Kane’s glass as well when the older woman holds hers out with a look that leapfrogs right over seduction and practically all the way to the morning after. She decides then and there that she likes this one as well. Two for two, look at that. And people say she’s anti-social. Distinctly recalling she’d taken a second look at Kate’s legs before sitting down, and adding in those eyelashes....

Well. Lorna’s never seriously considered taking another woman up on one of these looks before, but it wouldn’t wholly be accurate to claim she’s never thought of sending one to say...Ororo or Betsy a time or two herself. 

Or even a little accurate, actually, but that is neither here nor there.

Lorna thinks, though, that if she were to take up this particular woman up on this particular offer on this particular night - there might at some point be explosions. 

This is not a dealbreaker.

Look, she didn’t get her degree in geology because she held any particular interest in literally dull as dirt sandstone. Pyroclastic igneous rock formations, on the other hand...now that’s a different matter entirely. Fire pretty. Batwoman pretty. 

Okay, she might be a little tipsy at this point. She looks at her wine glass accusingly; she shouldn’t have to find these things out on her own. It neither confirms nor denies. 

Bitch.

Still further down the table, Dick's usual charming composure has been knocked out and left tied up in a coat closet somewhere. With the anthropomorphic embodiment of the emotion Frazzled then stepping in to take his place, and not at all very obviously acting out of sorts, if the amused but completely unhelpful smirks of his siblings are anything to go by. 

The Dick-shaped entity seated in his place makes occasional token attempts to direct the flow of conversation like the maestro he’s usually known to be in such settings. In this particular setting and time, however, he mostly just manages to exist as a sentient display of the condition or state of being I Have Regrets. 

His attention flits from one person to the next as he periodically tries to distract everybody from plotting the murders of everyone else at the table. Or covering up the murder of someone else, as committed by one of their family members. Or from plotting to frame someone else at the table for murder. Or from broadcasting that they’d absolutely get to the bottom of any frame job and prove their relative’s innocence and see the real culprit behind bars. 

Also, he may or may not have to every so often stop and distract himself from plotting murders of his own.

Dick lands briefly on Jason every now and again with an “I know what you’re doing and would greatly appreciate it if you’d stop” glare. 

Its met each time by his little brother’s “I have no idea what you’re talking about, this is just how I partake in family gatherings, isn’t that what you want or should I just go home” mask of blatantly transparent faux-innocence. 

Jay’s expressions are practically close captioned, that’s how far he is from even attempting to bother with the whole thing.

Dick returns fire with a narrowing of the eyebrows that screams: “I’ll get you for this, and your little dog too.” 

Jason’s lip only upticks at one corner, his otherwise studied indifference sending back his crystal clear response: “Bitch, I died. What’re you gonna to do, threaten to go a week without trying to ambush me with hugs?” 

Dick’s jaw shifts like a tectonic plate movement, teeth grinding as he holds the glare. “You’re the worst.” 

Jason beams and tilts his head, eyes drifting upwards in silent contemplation, as if to say, “Well, we all aspire to great heights in our own unique ways.” 

“Allow me to congratulate you on your successful achievements then.” Dick’s now puckered expression fires barbs from a blowgun.

“If you really cared, you’d show me with a trophy. What’s a guy gotta do to get his brother to try and buy his love and affection,” said little brother lofts at him by way of an obnoxiously exaggerated batting of his eyelashes.

Next to Dick, Wanda has her elbow on the table, propping up her head in one hand as she lazily pokes at her food with her fork. She’s not even trying to hide how much she regrets every decision that led to this. She likes Dick, quite a lot, but clearly, neither of their families are fit for conjoined festivities. Lesson learned. 

Duke is shoving dinner roll after dinner roll into his mouth, as if afraid to risk missing out on anything by attempting more focus-intensive food handling than that. His eyes are feverishly bright as they dart from one length of the table to the other and back again. This is the best day ever. 

Tim and Cass are seated side by side and occasionally dip their heads together in hushed conversation. At other times they flick their fingers at each other in sign language just below the surface of the table. 

Periodically, Tim will then wade into one conversation or another, never staying focused for long on any one single conversation partner before moving on. 

If one were to view this whole....event...as an exercise in conversational warfare, one might be tempted to view Tim’s patterns of discussion as somewhat akin to guerilla warfare. Brief engagements not aimed at achieving any kind of victory so much as feeling out the oppositions’ defenses and tactics before withdrawing to form more firmed out plans based off the gathered intel. 

Dick closes his eyes and sighs as he sees Tim and Cass dip their heads together again. Right after Cass’ eagle-eyed gaze spent a few moments lingering on the wake of Tim’s latest ‘tactical retreat,’ which was plenty of time for their sister to soak in a fair amount of everyone's reactions and responses.

Dick coughs into his hand. When Tim looks his way and meets Dick’s stern gaze with an inquiring eyebrow, Dick reaches a hand to the side of his head as if to smooth back a lock of hair. Instead he then signs with grimly dancing fingers, “Please tell me you and Cass aren’t using a holiday dinner together as a chance to develop contingency plans for taking down members of my girlfriend’s family.”

Tim cocks his head slightly and frowns. The only indication that his fingers are once again busy at work beneath the table is the slight ripple of movement along his upper arms. A few moments later, Dick’s phone vibrates with a notification. He slides it into his lap and reads Tim’s text.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you just said. I don’t speak ASL.”

Dick tilts his own head and fires an unimpressed look across the table. “Seriously?”

Cassandra pokes Tim in the side, sending him an inquiring look of her own. No doubt curious what he’d texted Dick to elicit such a response. Tim grins and answers her in swift, practiced gestures the little twerp makes no attempt to hide this time. Blatant ASL, just one of the several different sign languages they were all fluent in. Cass raises a hand to her face and hides her giggle behind the back of it, just as Tim finishes. Dick darts his sour face at her, texting her phone in turn.

“Et tu, Cass?”

She glances down at her own phone and then just shrugs at him, utterly unrepentant. Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. Okay then.

Pietro’s daughter Luna had long since retreated to one of the Wayne family dens to watch movies, citing a headache. No one doubted that the precocious young empath was just entirely uninterested in being in the vicinity of all their entangled and extremely loud emotions. 

Her father had briefly attempted to impress upon her the importance of being present with the rest of them for at least some of the dinner. His daughter had simply met his token effort at imparting politeness protocols with a pointed look first at him and then at Damian, who was at most two years older than her. 

Pietro had grimaced. In an ideal world, caving to her demands would not be easier than him just conducting himself like a mature adult for the duration of a single dinner gathering. But then, none of them came from an ideal world, and he suffered no illusions about being an ideal parent. And more importantly, in the grand scheme of things it was hardly like this was one of the really important battles, the ones that needed to be picked carefully. 

That was his excuse and he was sticking to it. And thus Luna had been excused to entertain herself with the Waynes’ vast video library.

Wanda’s twin sons thus far seem content to keep themselves busy with their own back-and-forth in the private ‘twin language’ they’d crafted over the years - more due to cheating than the existence of some preternatural twin understanding of each other. Neither boy pretends to have a clue how the other’s mind works. 

Essentially, Tommy just talks to his brother at full superspeed, while Billy has a spell in place that allows him to keep up and understand his twin no matter what speed his ramblings take. No one seems entirely sure what mechanism they have for Billy to speak back to Tommy in a way no one else ever picks up on, or even if such a mechanism exists at all. It's entirely possible that due to the nature of their dynamic, they’d never found creating one to be at all necessary. 

That isn’t to suggest that Billy is a follower in temperament or by nature. Its more just that when dealing with Tommy, one either follows (or tries to play catch up slash does damage control) or else one waits until Tommy races off to do what he wants, for however long it takes for him to eventually figure out that nobody has followed or is even going to. Then finally racing back and submitting to following someone else’s lead, sulking all the while about how nobody ever listens to him about anything. 

Basically, letting Tommy take the lead in the more low-stakes engagements is just being efficient, in Billy’s opinion. The alternative takes way too long and his twin is a pain to deal with when in a heightened state of Sulk.

However, as to just how low-stakes or not this dinner actually is, well, that seems to be a matter of some debate between the twins, and not something Billy himself has even settled his opinion on. 

Frequent high-pitched squeaks occasionally sound out from their corner of the table, most too quick to even register for anyone other than their uncle Pietro, who currently is still preoccupied with his extended staring contest against his diminutive rival in all things pertaining to ego and attempted sovereignty

If anyone else were even to register their existence or frequency, the combination of squeaks and Tommy’s repeated glares at his brother might lead to the conclusion that Billy is repeatedly poking or jabbing his twin in order to rein Tommy in from leaping into some fray or another and escalating the already existing tension to biblical proportions. As is his wont. 

And Billy, at least, is enjoying his meal.

Well, he’s trying to, anyway.

But the closer he gets to completely clearing his plate, the more frequent Billy’s longing glances in the direction Luna had vanished become. Clearly, the teen is debating the merits of faking some ailment of his own and following his cousin’s example all the way to blessed, blessed relief from the chore of being the only one capable of saying “Tommy no” and actually producing an end result that isn’t just an accelerated timetable.

It’s not hard to tell when Billy’s inner war of his self-preserving tendencies vs his self-sacrificing tendencies is ultimately decided with a final score of Sanity: 1, Pointless and Unappreciated Gestures of Nobility: 0.

The seventeen year old sighs loudly and slumps back against his chair, his entire demeanor broadcasting an aura of “I give up” on so many clear wavelengths, it interrupts every skirmish currently in progress and results in every adult at the table sending concerned looks towards the twins’ corner of it. 

Billy’s crossed arms and the empty space his gaze is determinedly fixed on combine to clearly convey he has nothing to do with whatever has happened or is about to happen. 

Leading to every scrap of attention thus trekking further down the table to his twin, where Tommy is beaming with the brightness of a thousand supergiant stars about to go supernova and make a mess that will span galaxies and last for ten thousand years. 

His Aunt Lorna’s own penchant for pretty explosions and fireworks has nothing on his, other than seniority.

Tommy’s own family knows that gleam in his eyes well enough to be aware their own immediate reactions should be duck and cover. Unfortunately, the Waynes’ dining room affords few actual defensive positions, all of which are already occupied by members of the Family Batshit. Resigning themselves to the inevitable, the Family Maximumoff Damage brace for impact.

Not being familiar with the gleam in Tommy’s eyes themselves, but more than observant (and paranoid) enough to recognize the braced positions of the other family and adapt accordingly, the members of the Family Batshit are all quick to follow suit.

Wanda meanwhile takes the scant seconds before collision to close her eyes and try to recall why she ever wanted children so desperately she literally wished them into existence.

She’s got nothing. 

Dick uses the same time to gulp and take a deep breath, frantically trying to fortify himself with everything he knows of Wanda’s more....mayhem-inclined child. Hopefully he can use that intel to prepare contingencies for whatever fallout may follow in the next few seconds.

Ever the optimist, that one.

Into a silence stretching longer than a speedster in the spotlight has ever before allowed silence to linger - with Tommy clearly savoring the focused attention and abundant awareness of his Impact™ and reputation - the silver-haired teen grins with teeth bright enough to ignite the ensuing firestorm all on their own. The fateful words he finally utters almost seem overkill. At least until he finishes saying them and everything else ceases to matter, because boom.

Ignition.

“Hey Dick, if you end up marrying our mom, does that mean we can call you Dad?”

The silence that follows that particular detonation is akin to the death-knell of the dinosaurs, in the moments immediately after a giant asteroid wiped out 80% of life on the planet.

Then: anarchy.

“How dare you!” Damian launches himself out of his seat with what would normally be described as a hiss, were it not uttered at a decibel closer to being an actual sonic boom.

Jason looks like he can’t decide if he wants to fall to the ground laughing or fall to the ground tucking and rolling. To avoid having to make a decision, he grabs his until now untouched wine and guzzles it like a man who just found the only oasis in a hundred mile wide desert.

Lorna uncorks another bottle of wine and raises the whole thing like she’s toasting existence itself, on her way out the mortal coil’s exit-marked door. Kate thrusts her glass in front of Lorna for another refill. 

“I know many lesbians can and do have kids in any number of ways, but do you think its okay if I cite this as proof we’re the highest evolved life form and if I was meant to have kids of my own, God wouldn’t have given me such an obvious hint as to the opposite?” 

Kate absently muses to Lorna under her breath and out of the corner of her mouth, both of them still fixed on viewing the various diners turned statue-still by the Medusa like turn of the table’s conversations. 

“It feels like that’s one of those things people tell me I should keep in my head and just gets me in trouble when I decide to share it instead, but honestly, I can never tell.”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Lorna whispers back. “I get possessed by this one psychic ghost enough that one of the few perks is I don’t have to worry about ticking people off anymore. Nowadays if I piss someone off, all I have to do is wait a couple of days and then say I was possessed again at the time. Then I just ask why the hell did nobody notice and dramatically make a lot of noise about that until everybody forgets what the hell they were even ticked at me for in the first place.”

“Ugh. Lucky bitch.” 

Lorna shrugs with the faintest of smirks. “It’s all about just working with what you’ve got.”

Elsewhere at the table, Duke is frozen with his mouth still stuffed so full his cheeks are puffed out like a cartoon chipmunk’s. The only movements coming from his direction at all are the twin orbs that are his eyes, currently imitating tennis balls being rocketed back and forth across the court by pro players who never miss a swing.

Tim and Cass are clutching each others’ forearms, the closest either has come to displaying a panic reaction in literal years. In Cassandra’s case, more like in her entire lifetime.

But the title of ultimate attention draw is for the moment a dubious honor bestowed upon the Wayne patriarch himself. 

Bruce leaps from his seat like an Olympic sprinter off the starting block, managing to catch up to his youngest before Damian plus Damian’s butter knife make it more than a foot towards Tommy. He snatches the twelve year old up by his waist, smoothly disarming his son and spinning around to plant himself between the boy and his target with the practiced and precise moves of the bedlam ballerina that he is.

“Umm,” Dick utters at last. His eyes fly wildly around the room as if seeking permission to land. They settle on making repeated loops of a race track that runs from Tommy’s smile of success to Damian’s enraged expression, and then to his own father’s attempt at a poker face: normally flawless, but now only warranting such acclaim if Bruce’s intention actually was to mimick the poker face of someone steadily ingesting lemons and nothing else throughout the course of a game. 

Its not Dick’s finest work, obviously, but to be fair he’s also quite busy,trying to will himself through the floor. Possibly the Earth’s core while he’s at it. Results are still pending.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the inhabitants of the dining room, Pietro’s ex Crystal has arrived as previously agreed, so she can pick up Luna and their daughter can spend the back half of the holiday with her mother and the latter’s teammates. 

They were on their way to the dining room so Luna could say her goodbyes to her father, aunts, cousins and grandfather, when the current chaos had erupted.

Her own heroic impulses instinctively compelling her to charge in and attempt to help, Crystal’s tugged back by her daughter’s hand in hers. Knowing full well that Luna’s empathy-fueled instincts are superior to just about anyone else’s, Crystal halts and takes in the scene before them again, still with caution but with slightly less urgency.

“I suppose you have some idea what’s going on in there?”

Luna just smiles softly at her mother, as if shyly amused by the situation they’re witnessing.

“Did you hear how just when we were coming down the hall, Tommy said something about calling Wanda’s boyfriend ‘Dad’ if they get married?”

Crystal furrows her brow and nods; she hadn’t been paying that much attention, but one didn’t engage in superheroics (let alone marry and live with a hyper-active speedster) if one had poor situational awareness. Well one did, theoretically, but in such instances, one usually just died before gaining any kind of reputation or relevance.

“Well see, that set off Damian, Mr. Wayne’s youngest son and Dick’s baby brother - he was the one shouting ‘How dare you’ - “

“Don’t tell me this family has some kind of superiority complex about the twins or Wanda not being good enough for one of their own,” Crystal interrupted. The air around them crisped and heated even as a stray wind arose inside the manor and teased the ends of her hair into furious activity. 

She and Pietro might not be together anymore, but her fondness for him and certain other members of his family hadn’t ceased to exist simply because their marriage no longer did. Wanda had been her friend for years before she and Pietro even began to date, and her twins were still Luna’s cousins. All of which made them still family as far as Crystal was concerned. 

And she’d certainly put up with enough of her own family’s nonsense about nobody being good enough for one of them...more than she should have, to be honest, even if that was still ultimately the reason she’d cut ties with them and made her teammates her and her daughter’s true family. Crystal wasn’t about to stand idly by while strangers subjected her daughter’s cousins and aunt to more of that bullshit, even if they were hugely respected heroes of this universe’s Earth.

But Luna just shakes her head swiftly and decisively, and Crystal forces her metaphorical hackles to subside at her daughter’s apparent lack of concern. 

“No, its nothing like that. Well, Damian’s kind of a brat sometimes, but it feels like he only acts out like that when he doesn’t have instincts about how to react to a given situation and he’s embarrassed about that. He had some kind of messed up childhood none of them like to talk about too much. But honestly, he feels more jealous right now than he does anything else. Aunt Wanda gave us all a rundown before we got here, about Dick’s family and things to not ask them about or bring up, and what kind of stuff they’d been told about us for similar reasons. Anyway, she told us Damian didn’t even live with their family until a few years ago, and when he first came to live with them there was a year when Mr. Wayne was missing and most of them thought he was dead....and so Dick was basically Damian’s first real kinda dad even before Mr. Wayne got a chance to be, and even though he’s been the one raising Damian ever since he got back, it sounded like there’s a lot of mixed feelings and confusion and tension between him, Mr. Wayne and Dick ever since.”

“And of course your cousin just couldn’t resist poking the elephant in the room, once he’d been made aware of its existence, if only to see what would happen,” Crystal sighs. That boy....

Not for the first time when around her ex’s family, she finds herself reminded to be grateful for the relationship she and her daughter share, mostly due to her daughter’s willingness to be understanding of others’ flaws, her own included. Crystal makes sure to will forth a wish for fortitude in Wanda’s direction while she’s at it. Couldn’t hurt.

And of course, speaking of Luna’s ability to be understanding....

“Tommy was just trying to have a little fun, he honestly didn’t mean any harm by it,” her daughter defends the cousin in question. “I know he didn’t really have any idea how much of a reaction he’d get, and just how deep and strongly they had about this. And I know it probably sounds like I’m just trying to make excuses for Tommy to keep him out of trouble, but maybe this is a good thing, that he made this happen? Because I can tell they definitely don’t talk a lot about these things or let them out in the open instead of trying to shove them down all the time. So Damian feels jealous, probably because he still has feelings of seeing Dick as a father that he feels he can’t act on because he doesn’t want to upset their actual dad or cause fights between them.”

"And I can feel Mr. Wayne feels jealous too, but of how Damian feels and the fact that he acted on what was so clearly jealousy to everyone else, but also he’s upset at himself, probably because he thinks its not right for him to feel jealous towards his own son and specifically because he and his brother have such a strong relationship and Dick did such a good job taking care of him when Mr. Wayne couldn’t. And then Dick feels guilty but also a little upset at himself as well, maybe because he knows he has nothing to feel guilty for? I’m not sure about that part, I haven’t totally gotten a feel for their usual emotional dynamics. But also he feels jealous too, and of Mr. Wayne, most likely because he gets to be Damian’s father and on some level Dick wishes that was still him occupying that role.”

“Maybe you should be explaining all of this to them instead of me,” Crystal concludes when her daughter finishes her run-through in a rush of hastily accelerated words. Luna is leaning to the side, as if trying to be subtle about craning to look around her at the drama on the other side. 

“I will if they ask me to,” her daughter says, now sounding somewhat defensive of herself. “I don’t think they would have liked it much if I just tried to talk to them about all their feelings that they refuse to acknowledge or act upon, even just with each other in private.”

“Hmm,” Crystal just hums thoughtfully. Luna rushes to present the rest of her case, though Crystal still lacks a clear picture of just what the specific endgame is that her little schemer simply can’t resist trying to nudge things towards.

“Besides, like I said, maybe this was a good thing, Tommy got it out in the open where now they have to talk about it with each other, since its pretty undeniable to everyone. I mean everyone else in their family definitely feels kinda satisfied I think? No, vindicated. That’s it. I think they’ll be fine on their own. They all definitely love each other and if anything, the jealous feelings are all just from loving each other more than they feel they should or have a right to, because they don’t want to make one of their other family question whether they love them too. None of them have done anything bad or wants anything bad, they just need to talk it through.”

“Well that’s all good to hear, but it still sounds to me like there’s no real reason for us not to interrupt, and every possibility it might defuse some tension and give them all a little time to cool down before talking about things.” Crystal crosses her arms and looks down at Luna knowingly. 

She might be the best daughter Crystal could have ever wished for, and light years more mature than anyone else her age, but she’s still only ten and every ten year old has room for more maturing.

Sure enough, her daughter squirms guiltily. 

“I guess. But I still think its better to let things just happen on their own. You’re always telling me that my power isn’t permission to insert myself into the problems of everyone I meet. And that assuming otherwise can be bad for me too.”

“That’s true,” Crystal nods. All the same, her left eyebrow starts to climb. “However, another truth I’ve heard told to you by your father is if you ever feel guilty and are put on the spot for something, have two truths and a lie ready to explain yourself. And always lead with the lie.”

She loves Pietro still, she does, and she's at times even painfully aware of just how much she always will. But their vastly different ideas about parenting were just one of the reasons they hadn’t been able to make things work. She vividly recalls the time she’s referring to...and the argument she and her husband had immediately following it.

Pietro’s stance had always been that children were just little versions of who they’d grow up to be, and didn’t need to be taught dumbed down versions of the advice no one would a problem giving to the grown up versions of them.

“I see nothing inappropriate in teaching her that,” Pietro had said stubbornly at the time. “I do the same thing all the time and I’ve never attempted to pretend otherwise. In fact, I clearly remember explicitly describing that as my life philosophy on one of our earlier dates, and if I recall correctly, you laughed and called me a charming knave at the time. And I am of course remembering it correctly, as I have perfect recall listed among my numerous attributes.”

They never did reach an understanding about that particular bit of parenting. Probably because that argument had ended up seguing into the make-up sex that had kept them married far longer than they probably should have been.

Not that the latter detail is of any relevance at the moment. She coughs awkwardly.

In the here and now, their daughter continues to fidget beneath her mother’s now imperious gaze and newfound resolution to not allow her semi-fond nostalgia to cause her emotions to waver.

“Fine!” Luna groans at last, throwing up her hands in as explosive manner as the usually contemplative girl ever does anything. “I also don’t want to interrupt or go yet because I still have some of the popcorn Mr. Alfred made me and its really good and also if you had to have dinner with some of the most tense and repressed people on two different Earths, and feel everything they were trying to pretend they didn’t feel, you would want to at least get to enjoy the part where they finally stop doing that and get all dramatic and dumb. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Crystal says primly, fighting a smile at her daughter’s rare display of immaturity before remembering who she was talking to and ceasing to bother with the pretense. Besides, its not like she doesn’t have a point.

“But I believe we’ve also talked about people not being your personal entertainment,” she adds. It just feels like the kind of moment where she's supposed to say something along those lines. Even half-heartedly. 

“But is it really my fault if people are being entertaining through no fault of my own, and I just happen to be nearby and have every right to just stay put until being right where I am stops being entertaining?” Her daughter counters.

The glint in her eye and the wry smile that says she knows she’s scented a moment of weakness and has no shame about pouncing on it - those are wholly among Pietro’s contribution to their child, and not anything Crystal can truly fault him for, at the end of the day. He is who he is, and part of that is who their daughter is, just as much as she is part of Crystal. She sighs and relents.

“If one of the Waynes catches us treating their conflict like a reality show and feels the slightest upset about it, it is your responsibility to either justify yourself to them too, or acknowledge responsibility for their upset. Whichever it takes to reverse the negativity you contributed. Understood?”

"Promise,” Luna says, bobbing her head repeatedly as she holds forth her hands, unprompted, to demonstrate that she has no fingers crossed as she did so. A follow up that has been normalized for years, given that crossing fingers behind one’s back is another one of the bits of parental wisdom Pietro had imparted upon their precocious daughter when she was younger.

Crystal just sighs once more and shakes her head fondly as she steps to the side and provides an unobstructed view through the open doorway across the room.

Back in the dining room, heedless of having garnered spectators to their spectacle, as well as equally heedless of the passage of time, the room’s inhabitants exist in a state of suspended animation. 

Everyone knows a reaction to what just happened is required. That the pregnant pause persisting since then demands a clear follow up to the blatant display of certain emotions from certain parties. All of whom are usually quite certain they’d rather witness the end of the world than see those specific feelings slip out into the open where anyone could see them and from that, draw certain conclusions.

Nobody is confused on that front. Not even their guests from an entirely separate universe.

But the unthinkable has happened nevertheless, and as it has been neither preceded nor succeeded by any hint of an apocalypse, there is no alternative. The naked display of previously avoided topics can not in any way be avoided at this point. What was done was done and now things have to be said or done as a result.

The problem lies in the fact that not a single person present has the faintest idea of what those specific things were. And thus no one seems interested in showing any initiative in ending the stalemate that has been forged from the uncommon uncertainty that was their only commonality.

 The rise and fall of chests are the only movements betraying that the tableau they set exists in all three dimensions, rather as a static snapshot someone had taken in commemoration.

And even breathing seems done reluctantly.

If cosmic entities such as Uatu the Watcher were prone to hyperbole, as the only other witnesses to the unprecedented anomaly, they might narrate that for a time it seems as though two of the most powerful and influential families of two different universes are fated to spend the rest of eternity existing in this rare moment. This endless moment where some of the most reckless, impulsive, tactical, analytical, insightful and decisive heroes to ever exist on two separate Earths......are all equally stricken with indecision and uncertainty as to what course of action to take next.

Who could even imagine what kind of consequences that might result in, for two entirely different multiverses? What deviations from intricately plotted grand designs that could cause, what opportunities might be missed, from the most potentially fortunate events that otherwise might stem from these various heroes’ heroics?

How far might the ripple effects of this seemingly innocuous moment in space and time reach? How many worlds might rise and fall, universes live and die, all because this one singular family, this comparatively tiny collection of dissonant souls who regardless of their frequent discord still manage to come together in harmony often enough to chart the course of cosmic events....

These unlikely conductors who at separate times are both the voices of the people, and the music of the spheres themselves? Their choices often doing more to directly affect various celestial bodies than the choices of entire civilizations added up across countless millennia?

Regardless of the degree of potential calamity, that remains a fate both universes will be spared their discovery of. For in this hour of need, where some of the prime movers and shakers of worlds sit motionless whilst hardly daring to breathe, all mutually frozen in their seats, all seemingly powerless to act or speak until someone releases them from this spell that has been cast upon the room and all within it....

Well, unto this unlikely conundrum, there arises an unlikely hero.

Not the hero anyone present deserves, perhaps, but certainly the hero they need.

And so it is that with great daring - and dare we say, even panache - a voice rings out loud and clear. One overflowing with bountiful mirth and a zest and zeal for life. Not to mention one brimming with reckless disregard for any potential consequences, even those not very dissimilar to the kind that have in years past made even the hardiest villains quail in fear...

And all at the same time, all undeniable, all contributing to the sudden spasm that erupts along the fault line that is Bruce Wayne’s entire face - that treacherous, forbidding chasm that exists at the edges of the two tectonic masses that are on one side his disapproval, and on the other side, the muscles that control his expressions...

Into that momentous stillness lands the only response truly appropriate, given the root cause of all of this.

“Awkwaaaaaaard,” Stephanie Brown sings out, half standing out of her chair to stretch across the table in front of Wanda and Duke in order to retrieve the gravy boat. She returns to her seated position and proceeds to slather her mashed potatoes with its contents, blithely paying no attention to the fact that all other faces in the room have swiveled to face her with stunned disbelief. “Seriously, I haven’t felt this uncomfortable since I farted in front of Superman.”

“When did you even get here?” Bruce frowns at her, exasperated enough that Damian is able to use his distraction to slip free of him and slink back to his own seat.

No one else has ever managed to achieve the depths of distraction Stephanie and Stephanie alone can push the usually unflappable Bat to. Or is it heights, and the joys of alliteration might need to be sacrificed upon the altar of accuracy? Whatever.

She pretty much considers it her superpower, though. She's still working out how to weaponize it for use on other targets. Or even better, how to capitalize on it for use when living Whilst Reluctantly Capitalist. Currently, she’s testing market research along the veins of blackmailing Bruce into paying her a monthly allowance in exchange for her keeping her levels of Intentionally Irritating him to below a Level Four on a ten point scale. Its her own custom model in the fashion of the ‘rate the pain with a number from one to ten’ scale, but she’s taken the liberty of specifically tailoring it to Bruce’s condition of Suffering Stephanie the Supreme’s Presence. She's pretty sure she’d ultimately settled on the title: “How much is my chewing gum while I’m supposed to be being sneaky causing you actual physical pain?”

There’s an itty bitty chance she actually picked something totally else on account of how she’d been super drunk at the time and she’s crap at reading her own handwriting so deciphering the notes she’d made while especially inspired were like....seventy percent guesswork.

But close enough, anyway, and also like, shut up and stuff. Wait. But is that really considered blackmail, technically speaking, or is it more like bribery? Not that it really makes a difference, but she does prefer being as precise as possible when listing her crimes slash achievements. It’s like. The principle. Or maybe the aesthetic? Whatever.

Really, though, this is just her and the Big Guy’s thing. Its just what they do. Their dynamo depiction of a duo doing things after their first take on being a Dynamic Duo detonated so disastrously. Yeah, she could never bear to part with her precious alliteration merely for the sake of precision. Its important to have clear priorities after all, and if it for whatever reason that probably will involve fifth dimensional imps, like, some nefarious ne’er-do-well demands she make a choice between alliteration and precision, well, she’s as of right now making an official ruling on which darling she’d kill first. 

Sorry, precision, but you just haven’t done for me lately what alliteration has brought me in joy and also usefulness.

“Wait, my bad,” she realizes suddenly, on account of how everyone is staring at her when all she’s doing currently is stuffing her face like a pro. And as hype as she is on her ability to make anything she does look like a Feat™, she’s pretty sure she doesn’t make it look that good. “What was the question again?”

Bruce faces her fully, arms crossed in an attempt to restore himself and his dominion to some semblance of its usual order, his face schooled back in his usual Mona Lisa smile aka stone cold impassivity. Which nobody here was buying, for the record. Big faker.

“How long have you been here?” Asks Stone Cold Steve Austin, wait no, the Stone Cold Steve Faker. Faker Austin? Ugh, this is gonna bug her.

Also, nobody here is buying his voice as being Forbidding right now so much as just Deeply Embarrassed Because I Had Feelings And They Distracted Me. Honestly, she should start keeping a tally. For what, she’s not sure, but you never know what might come in handy some day. There’s a whole TV show about hoarders to back her up on that supposition. See? Science, suckers.

“I dunno. Since way before dinner even started though. Dude, I’m literally on my thirds.” 

As if making a show of evidence, Steph shovels more meat in her mouth. She’s not entirely sure what they're even having, like it could be veal or lamb or turkey for all she knows - look, she never got around to mastering “How To Solve the Mystery of Mystery Meat” or whatever. She’d been busy learning how to tell the difference in blood spatters, because like, meat may be murder sometimes but murder is always murder and thus takes priority. Soooorry. 

Point is, who knows what the fuck kind of meat it is, but its damn good and just further proof that Alfred is probably secretly God in disguise or maybe just a lower case g kinda one, but whichever, he and his culinary arts are definitely proof she’s too weak to ever walk the Way of the Vegan.

She finishes chewing fully before continuing. Because she’s a proper lady, obvy.

“And way to make with the Rudeness, B. I know I can pull off pretty much any look, but Fly On The Wall is not one of them. How dare you come for my self-esteem like this. I’ll sue you and get all your billions and use them to make a swimming pool of gold coins all Scrooge McDuck style, because its like, the one thing you could never and thus the perfect way to establish my dominance and stuff.”

“Has she seriously been here this whole time?” One of Dick’s girlfriend’s twin kids stage-whispers from the other length of the table. “How did we not notice before? Not exactly flying under the radar there.”

“I’m a goddamn social chameleon, that’s how, Cloud.” Stephanie jabs another meat-laden forkful in his direction for emphasis, on its way to her food hole. Ugh, bliss. “Also, I would be like, a kick-ass spy. But nobody ever gives me the spy jobs because everyone’s always like, you can’t be quiet or still or even serious for longer than five minutes, Stephanie, and I’m always like, umm, just because I choose not to doesn’t mean I can’t, but do they ever listen? Of course not.” 

The kid wrinkles his nose at her. “Why did you call me Cloud?”

“Isn’t that the name of the Final Fantasy guy whose hair you ripped off?”

“Is it? I don’t know, I’ve never played. And maybe he ripped me off, you don’t know,” Not-Cloud says, looking suddenly intrigued, though who knows by which part. 

Stephanie swivels towards Tim for confirmation. He looks back, vaguely irritated. 

“Why does everyone always look at me for stuff like that? I have no idea. When exactly would I have time to be a gamer in the first place? And for the record, back when I had actual hobbies, I used to skateboard.”

“Jeez, sorry, Tony Hawk. I didn’t recogize you cuz I was too busy giving you mad props for that sick wicked half pipe ollie oopsie.” Steph rolls her eyes. Then she cocks her head to scrutinize him more fully and maybe give him a serious answer. She settles for flapping a hand at him vaguely as she says, “And you just have like, a certain Quality about you or whatever. I don’t know what it is.”

“She doesn’t even live here,” Bruce says, almost plaintively. Y’know. If he were someone who does anything plaintively ever.

“She’s our guest,” Cass says, almost primly. Y’know. If she were someone who does anything primly ever. “You’re being rude.”

Steph plasters on her most injured expression, the better to make like Exhibit A when Cass sweeps an arm towards her for demonstration. 

Also though, oh shit, oh shit, look whose internal monologue stumble-stepped into a motif. She’s Emily Dickenson-ing this place up tonight. Finally, someone bringing a little class into the House of Ass. You’re welcome, all the ghosts of Bruce’s equally gloomy ancestors who definitely haunt this place on the regular.

“Yeah, Alfred has always impressed upon us that there are certain protocols for how we’re supposed to treat guests in our home, Bruce,” Tim adds in a tone that was equal parts thoughtful musing and suppressed merriment. 

He slides a smirk down the table to Steph. His own irritation of 7.5 seconds prior has completely evaporated into the ether, because that’s just how they roll. Look at them, making with the maturity like they’re just a couple of motherfucking bosses. She’s seriously so impressed with the both of them on their own behalves.

“If I were a betting man,” Tim continues nonchalantly, “I’d put down money that hanging on to guest privileges is one of the main reasons she turned down that adoption offer we all pretend we don’t know B’s definitely given her at some point.”

“Or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself, being the one whose dating history with Steph makes adopted siblinghood seem weird and icky and stuff,” Duke suggests from further down the table. He smirks, lounging in a way that looks lazy and careless to those uninitiated in the sacred Bat arts of being anal about everything at all times, like literally even when just looking at things. Because B-Man’s secret superpower is how to make anything boring, even things that are literally just using your eyes.

Though in defense of B but also like, the years of their lives they’ve all committed to obsessively training themselves according to his fucking anal doctrines anyway, like a bunch of absolute suckers, there is an upside to all that anal retention. Such as how people who make healthy but boring life choices would look at Duke right now and be like oh shit, that kid’s about two seconds from falling asleep like he’s a cat and that’s a super inconvenient place for him to fall asleep, which everyone knows is basically the same thing as Kitty Nirvana.

But meanwhile, the other teen still clearly shows all the checked boxes that spell out hey this dude could be ready to kick your ass in 2.5 seconds, like just give him a reason punk, he’s ready to go. Or at least, that’s how he registers to those of them with Bat-supersenses that aren’t actually super but really just the end result of lots of boring training exercises that honestly don’t sound anywhere near as cool so just let them have this.

Point is she totally lost track of her point, but then Duke follows up with an accusing pointer finger aimed at Tim, one appropriately dramatic and just like, making her so gosh darn proud of the latest castaway to wash ashore on their weird ass little Island Of Misfit Toys. Kids. They grow up so fast.

“Of course you wanna distract everyone from how you’re a Sister Depriver,” Duke intones, putting some super thematic bass into his boom. That right there, that little something extra...that’s how you make fucking art. Hot damn. “And as a result, poor Cass has to bear the weight of being the only girl in the Wayne clan all by herself. For shame, Timothy.”

“Yeah, Timothy,” Cass echoes smugly. “For shame.”

Tim shoots betrayed eyes at her, but its his own fault for forgetting the Cardinal Rule Of Cass: her allegiances are fickle and prone to shifting in the direction of greatest potential drama. Cass loves drama. Lives for it. Something about how refreshing it is to be able to immerse herself in the movements of people who are actively trying to speak or act in contradiction to what their body really wants to say, instead of just being lying douchebags who necessitate caution when they do anything similar.

The rest of them are split 50/50 as to whether that’s true and heartwrenching, or whether its well-played Cass bullshit aimed at distracting them from what a gossip-loving drama queen she really is.

“Whatever,” Jason says dismissively as he chimes in. He swipes the last few exchanges out of the way like they’re open apps he’s not using at the moment and he’s all uh, you can go now, losers. “The real issue here is that obviously the Old Man has never figured out how to interact with a teenager or young adult he hasn’t adopted or can’t adopt. Middle D over there is proof that even B’s vaunted no meta rule isn’t really a dealbreaker, so betcha the real reason Dickie and Tim’s Titan friends never come over is because their parentals are worried about B trying to snatch them up too. And since B adopts, fosters or otherwise absorbs via osmosis every other kid or teen he comes across, there’s never been a control group for him to practice his non-adoption-intending behavior on other kids. And no practice means no way of being perfect at that, and we all know how not being perfect at something makes B cranky as fuck.”

Duke takes a beat to contort his face into a Rubik’s Cube of half-formed and hastily discarded expressions. Most likely trying to work through whether Middle D counts as a weird-ass endearment for this particular family, or something he’s gonna be endlessly annoyed by if it happens to catch on. Its a process, especially considering it has to be filtered through the Jason to English dictionary first.

Finally he just shrugs in a lazy non-reaction that in Batspeak manages to count as a challenge. Basically a ‘try and guess what I decided if you can, chump.’ 

Jason’s face morphs Terminator style. The later ones, not the Governator model. He ends up displaying a mash-up: the smirk of inevitable victory meets the narrowed eyebrows of intent focus as bestowed upon a worthy foe. 

Then the whole piece makes like an Etch-a-Sketch and is wiped completely away before being replaced with an annoyed jaw clench. 

“Jay’s theory game is strong,” is the route Duke ends up taking though. “And here we thought the reason Bruce always says no about Superboy coming over is to prevent him from being a Brother Defiler. But all along it was just the insidious work of a Brother Depriver, with Superman himself being the culprit who told B hands off, this one’s mine. It all makes sense now! Superboy even fits the standard issue black hair and blue eyed, in store model.”

He tips his head towards the older boy in a gesture of appreciation for Jay’s detective work and connect the dots high score. Jason scowls back. By the standards of the Family Batshit, he’s clearly been caught off guard. With him so readily taking up the implied but not outright stated challenge teased by the younger boy, he’d completely failed to prepare for the compliments Duke then followed up with instead.

His siblings hide snickers behind faked coughs and gratuitous napkin usage. He’s netted himself an undeniable loss, according to the intricate rules and traditions of their family - ironically, many of which had been laid down by Jason himself when first established back in the misty years of yore. That mysterious, little spoken of era of legend and mystery, one that is nevertheless oft whispered of in hushed rumors and hearsay. The time before time, better known to the Bats and Birds as The Age of The First Two Robins.

If it had just been the family present, it might have been a different matter, but the presence of others changed things. Cuz see, in the eyes of anyone who isn’t a member of their observation obsessed and perpetually paranoid family, the relatively minute exchange between the two boys no doubt looked like Jason had been needlessly aggressive while the younger boy was just trying to pay him a compliment.

In a nutshell, Duke goaded Jason with what seemed like a challenge but didn’t technically count, so Jason’s attempt at responding to Duke’s not-challenge actually counted as the first actual sign of aggression, which Duke neatly side-stepped by already being in the process of paying Jay a compliment between the time Jay actually launched his challenge but before it actually landed.

Ergo, Duke wins. 

Look, if its hard to follow, that’s probably for the best. They’re all pretty sure stuff like that isn’t supposed to make as much sense as it does to them.

Jason huffs but then finally heaves a sigh and tosses a tight-lipped and grudging but genuine nod of acknowledgment down the table to Duke. Despite himself, he can’t help but be a little impressed by the kid, having already picked up on even the more minute ins and outs of their family’s complicated interactions. But then, of course the younger boy is as precocious as the rest of them. Their family could single-handedly keep the nature vs nurture debate going for centuries.

Duke beams back before licking the tip of a finger and painting a single stroke in the air in front of him. A clear declaration that this round of the Batkids’ never-ending game goes to him. Jason rolls his eyes but can’t exactly begrudge him his endzone dance. Its not like he’s known for being graceful and gracious in victory either.

Come to think of it, none of them are. Huh. That explains a lot, probably.

Its at this moment that Dick finally regains enough composure to make his presence felt again. 

Its understandable, really, the others acknowledge via conspiratorial looks of sibling solidarity that bounce their way rapidly across the table by way of their patented younger sibling network.

Anyone would have trouble juggling the combined stressors of introducing the girlfriend’s family, mediating their own eternal family mayhem, and on top of all that, seeing shoved into the spotlight his ‘shh, we don’t talk about that, what are you, new,” tendencies towards acting parentally protective and possessive of Damian, even with (and at times especially with) Bruce himself. 

Not to mention the occasional clashes over the parenting strategy, or lack thereof, that Bruce still manages at times to bumble like the perfect dope that he is. Because if anyone has super strong feelings about Bruce’s parenting and no patience whatsoever for watching their father repeatedly fail to learn from his mistakes, well. That’s all Dick’s territory.

So with all of that kept firmly in mind like the efficient little multi-taskers they all know how to be (when they feel like it), they’re all poised to lend Dick a certain amount of leeway in how much amusement they enjoy at his expense today.

In all fairness to them, its not like he makes it easy. They had perhaps overestimated just how well Dick was juggling the various stressors in play today. After all, you can take the acrobat out of the circus, but that doesn’t mean jack shit about whether or not he can juggle because that’s an entirely different skillset, duh.

Hindsight’s not just sometimes a bitch. Its sometimes quite bitchy as well. Ugh, their subconscious minds could be such brats, honestly.

Look, the point is, even as they all patiently watch their eldest brother struggle his way back to a state of coherency and and managing to be present in the actual present, they’re still expecting him to pop out the other side with something at least approaching poise.

Instead, they get an encore.

“Umm,” Dick utters at last. 

Tim buries his face in his hands. Duke tilts his head back and mutters prayers to some higher power. Cass closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly and sorrowfully. Lorna reaches across the table with her wine bottle and refreshes her sister’s glass. Wanda looks like she needs it.

Damian sits with arms crossed over his chest and scowl firmly directed at the table top, Judging Everything. Then again, that is still his default setting and pretty much what he’s been doing all night anyway. Say whatever else you want to about the kid, Steph reflects, but when he commits to a theme, hoo boy. 

Jason, meanwhile, has thrown himself bodily at his brother, clamping a hand over the older man’s mouth and stage-whispering with exaggerated emphasis: “Careful! You could set off the exact same chain of events and we’ll all end up trapped in an eternal time loop we can never break free of! I mean, its practically a guarantee, if you combine my knack for being in the worst place at the worst possible time, Tim’s shitty spleen-phobic luck, Cass’ destined to someday prove ironically prophetic name, and your own lightning rod-esque ability to attract cosmic-level catastrophes to you like you’re catnip and they’re really just a cute little furball named Fluffy McWhiskerson.”

“Must you always insist on going the extra mile when being ridiculous, Todd?” Damian cuts in testily. Also, cuttingly. 

“Shut the fuck up. It’s my coping mechanism for being part of a family that goes that extra ridiculous mile every damn day.” 

“And people wonder what possible reasons I could have for not wanting to be adopted into this family and instead hanging onto a golden parachute option?” 

Steph wonders aloud (and loudly) as she maneuvers the side of her fork around her plate like its a zamboni hard at work on an ice rink. Really, she just refuses to let a single scrape of Alfred’s home-made mashed potatoes go to waste. She’s not some heathen.

“You. You seem pretty smart.” That loaded statement and the finger pointed in her direction come courtesy of the Final Fantasy kid whose name may or may not be Cloud but probably isn’t, which is a shame, because Cloud is a pretty kick-ass name in Steph’s estimation. Not that anyone asks. Typical.

Also, where did they end up landing on the subject of what his name should be? Or is? Whatever? Was there a flowchart passed out at some point and she just missed it while busy being fabulous, or was this an actual oversight on B’s part and thus something they should all bring up as often as possible from now until the end of time?

No doubt spurred by a desire to be absent from whatever follows his twin’s newest train of thought, Billy raises his hand half-heartedly. No one bothers to point out the absurdity of raising his hand like he’s in school. He just seems like its a thing with him. He has that certain Quality, Steph decides.

“Can I be excused?”

Nobody seems sure who he’s asking, so its probably okay that nobody responds to grant permission. Besides, suffering through the awkwardness and drama like the rest of them is probably like, good for building character or something.

After about half a minute, Billy nods to himself as if that’s about what he’d expected. He lowers his hand again and uses it to prop up his head as he slumps over the table and idly sketches patterns atop the antique oak surface.

“I’m a galaxy-brain level intellect, you little Silver Whatever-the-Adorable-Baby version of a Fox is called,” Steph declares at last, jabbing her finger right back at the apparent Greater of Twin Evils. Y’know. To see how much he likes it. But also just because its fun to make like a drama queen in a place like Wayne Manor. Ambiance really is everything. “I even took my SATs and correctly informed the moderator that I was in fact there for the SATs and hadn’t gotten them mixed up with my ACTs.” 

“Hmm,” the twerp says then, not at all appearing to be taught a lesson by her dramatic finger pointing reversal. He sweeps his eyes over her, assessing. Given that she hasn’t decided yet if she even likes the little twerp, let alone what he’s trying to assess and also if she even gives a shit on account of she might not even like the little twerp, Stephanie splits the difference and settles for combining bitch face with her best “How you like me now,” pose. Let him make of it what he will. ‘Snot like she knows what she’s going for there.

Also, its probably rendered slightly less effective due to her forgetting to factor in that she’s sitting and not standing, but whatever, she commits like a champ. Also, she’s still at most 60/40 on the liking of the twerp, so who even cares, honestly.

“I used to be able to count on my own smarts,” Platinum Punk says, seemingly settled on an opinion at last. “But I naively gambled that away in the name of wishing upon a star for family or what the frick ever, and I forgot to set wish parameters for ‘and also please let them all not be completely nuts.’”

“Watch the ableism please, sweetheart,” Wanda says with a long-suffering sigh.

“Sorry, Mom,” he says with an eye roll that nevertheless seems to somehow satisfy her. “But see? I’ll get a lecture about my language, but I skip school with my friends to fight giant robots in Times Square and she doesn’t bat an eye. My family’s priorities are not like your Earth’s priorities.”

“Or my Earth’s priorities,” he adds as an afterthought. “Or any Earth’s, probably. Maybe not some really weird and out there Earth, but they don’t count, probably.”

“Well I don’t like it, certainly, but I don’t want to be a hypocrite,” Wanda says defensively. “When I was your age, I was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list for being a mutant terrorist. All things considered, I have relatively few objections about how you and your brother spend your time.” 

Several members of the Family Batshit direct eyes that are ever so slightly on the wide side. She meets them with an unapologetic shrug.

“I had a complicated childhood. I got over it.”

Lorna snorts into her wineglass. Wanda shoots her sister an annoyed glare, but still amends her statement.

“Mostly, anyway.”

Lorna smirks and waves her glass in some attempt at a meaningful gesture. Who knows what its actually meant to be. She seems to accept the amendment, at least.

“Please excuse our dear little sis her porcine displays of condescension,” Pietro interjects in silky smooth tones that do nothing to hide the sharp edges thinly veiled underneath. “She didn’t grow up with us and our dear, doting daddy, yet has never lacked for opinions on what superior choices she would have made in our positions. The fact that she’s still made plenty terrible choices of her own, is apparently quite irrelevant.”

His green-haired sister opens her eyes artfully wide and projects feigned innocence. “None of those were my fault. I was possessed a lot by a very evil psychic. Who, if you recall, actually called herself Malice. The evil was right there in her name. Advertised. I was innocent. She was evil.”

Pietro swirls his own wineglass, unimpressed. The other set of siblings have clearly been down this road a time or two themselves. 

“I was primarily referring to your romantic history with a Summers. And not even the competent or aesthetically pleasing one, at that,” he drawls.

“She also had terrible taste.”

“Anyway, not to tear focus away from discussion of my dear auntie’s romantic selection process, as she and Uncle Pietro both lack the shame gene and they absolutely can and will traumatize all present via a thorough analysis of each other’s past partners in the most bizarre game of sexual chicken you will ever have the misfortune to witness...”

“Bold of him to make that claim when he’s never seen Dick and Jason do the exact same thing for the exact same reasons,” Tim mutters. Cass and Duke both nod. Jason glares, but seems stuck at the ‘come up with actual proof that he’s actually wrong’ stage of the rebuttal process. Dick has by now returned to the land of the living, but seems to have along the way decided discretion is the better part of valor as best guess is he’s currently preoccupied weighing the pros and cons of potential escape routes.

“Hey, Shiny Pokemon version of Sonic the Hedgehog,” Stephanie snaps her fingers and hopskips the focus back on the speedster in question. She waves her hand at the rest of the sound and fury occupying the table with them, as if to express just how much it all signifies nothing. “Just get to the point already and leave out anything else that these vile miscreants could possibly hijack and turn into tangents. You’ll never make it through a conversation in this house otherwise. Everyone here is expertly trained and practiced in the art of derailing the most obstinate and tunnel-visioned man in history from reaching his point whenever that point is deemed destined to make our day end poorly.”

“Some of us just happen to be better at that than others,” Jason says with smug confidence, twirling his butter knife lazily.

“Ironic, coming from the one trick pony,” Tim says dryly. Jason leans forward and raises his knife-wielding hand and Tim quickly raises his hands in a defensive gesture that’s clearly not meant to indicate he sees an actual threat, more just aimed at beating his brother to the punch with the rest of his punchline. “Sorry, I miscounted. I mean the one and a half trick pony.”

Steph clears her throat pointedly and looks back at Platinum Ken Doll. He just sighs in full gloom and slumps down in eerie symmetry with his twin. He definitely is the superior practitioner of the Sulk.

“Never mind,” he says melodramatically. “It wasn’t even a big deal anyway, just stuff I was trying to be like, snarky about or whatever, but the moment’s passed and it’s just kinda dumb and pointless without feeling like, natural or whatever.”

“Probably,” Stephanie agrees unsympathetically, because hey, when you’re right, you’re right. She doesn’t believe in coddling the youths, especially not the ones who are realistically only two years younger than herself at the most. “But you’ve managed to pique my interest enough that not knowing what you were going to say is randomly gonna bug me at 2 am or something obnoxious like that. Also, you started to praise my intellect and I don’t let things like that go unfinished. It sets a bad precedent. Now c’mon. Speak up. Praise me. Enunciate, so Damian can’t pretend he doesn’t hear you just because he’s trying to set the table on fire with just the searing intensity of his disdain.”

Damian responds with a gesture that he definitely didn’t learn from Dick, but on second thought, he probably did.

“That’s the spirit,” she said. “Keep on keeping on, slugger. If anyone can develop the ability to cause spontaneous combustion with nothing but willpower and spite, its Angst in the key of D Minor himself. I believe in you, kiddo!”

If she weren’t actually being full of shit about that, she might be in trouble from the glare Damian follows that with. Ashes to ashes and all that good stuff. But as rage-vision still refuses to make an appearance, the baby of the family in age and irony only retreats to the support of his high-backed chair. 

Looking more adorable than he’d hopefully ever comprehend, lest he attempt to weaponize that as an addition to his armory, he slouches down and mutters something that makes Jason’s eyebrows climb his skull like they’re trying to set a speed record for making it all the way to the top.

It’d been in one of the languages that Damian knew and that her own circle of languages learned share no overlap with, but she mentally repeats it sound for sound in her head until she locks it in. Anything that can make Jason look that impressed is worth knowing, and translating something phonetically from an unknown language is nothing Google can’t handle.

And by Google she meant Tim, but that’s what ex-boyfriends are for, right? She’s fairly certain she saw that on a T-shirt somewhere, which is basically the same thing as true.

Anyway. Back to the praises that are supposed to be being sung, and yet weirdly, she still hears no singing. Steph boomerangs her focus back down the table to Smugness in Silver, and oozes impatience and expectations out her pores at him like emotions are contagious and she’s a cooties hotspot.

Fumbling from a clear unease with this particular kind of spotlight, and also how it’d admittedly been a weird fucking night for everyone concerned, the younger teen at last manages to self-consciously eke out: “Look, I said it was dumb now. I seriously was just gonna make a joke about you being too smart to get sucked into a weird ass family with endless drama without having an escape clause, and I was just gonna be like, teach me your ways or y’know. Whatever.”

“Wait!” Stephanie stops him right there with a palm outstretched in the universal sign for hold the fucking fuck the fuck up. She leans towards him, and in a voice pitched low and even but vibrating with barely leashed intensity, she asks him the only question that could possibly matter now:

“Was that last bit actually part of the joke you were going to make? The thing you were trying to say from the get go, not just something you said right now because you got confidence diarrhea and stopped using the words good?”

“Uh, yeah?” He says warily.

Stephanie slaps both her hands on the table’s surface, loudly enough to make most everyone jump a little in their seats, and forcefully enough to rattle some dishware and make her inner monologue hiss oww and yell at her for unnecessary roughness. She ignores herself, on account of having much more important things to deal with. 

Launching herself to her feet, she leans into her palms where they press down on the table, giving herself a little bit of Loom to go with the gravity she forces onto her face. Glee is waging a valiant effort at retaking the lost ground, but she’s always insisted that she has excellent self-control, dagnabbit, and Stephanie Brown is many, many things, but she’s no liar.

Well, except for the times she is. But there are always reasons or like, extenuating circumstances for those.

Usually.

“I accept the honor and responsibility of being your Family Drama Sensei, and I shall teach you everything I know and also some stuff I make up just to fuck with you, because I’m not like Other Mentors. I demand and expect some giggles to go with the shits, or what’s even the point, y’know? First lesson: that was rhetorical! I say y’know a lot and when I actually expect an answer I’ll also be like omg hurry up, I aged 84 years waiting for you to say something already. Got it?”

The Twin That Could Have Probably Starred In Twilight blinks dazedly at her. He then turns to look at the rest of the table.

“Is she serious?”

“Deadly,” Steph intones, before one of these naysayers could nay on her say and potentially undercut her authority with her new minion. Uh, she means, like, henchkid. Sorry, sidekick. Shit. Crap - protege! That was what she has, a protege! Hah!

“For real?” He asks, doubtfully. She frowns. Is she stuttering?

“So real I make reality look fake,” she assures him gravely. He blinks some more. He does that a lot, she notes, like a Good Mentor who notices stuff about her mentee.

“Okay, see, because that wasn’t really what I was going for?” He says cautiously. 

She rolls her eyes. C’mon kid, she doesn’t bite, except for like, sexy stuff and eww no, he’s like twelve. Well sixteen probably, but that’s basically the same thing as twelve. Also they had a lot of work to do on the spine-having thing because this sorta bit right here is totally gonna make her look bad in front of all the other mentors, if it doesn’t exit stage right, like post haste. And what not.

She doesn’t say any of that that out loud though. She’s not sure they’re there yet.

“Like, I was aiming more for just....a...I don’t know, a hah-hah?” 

He leans back slightly, adding a little distance as he looks at her like she’s part of the craziness he needs help surviving instead of his sensei in all things suited to surviving the craziness. Ugh, she has so much work to do with this one. Its a good thing she’s always been pretty sure she’d make an excellent mentor, so like, qualifications. She has them. Obvy.

“La la la, I can’t hear you but also no take-backsies. You’re part of a legacy now. Or lineage. Or whatever the word is that’s not actually about dog family trees. Look, the point is by virtue of being my first ever protege and also the first protege of anyone who isn’t Dick or Babs who both don’t even count anyway because Reasons, you are now part of the grand tradition that is being a Bats and Birds person...partner...sidekick...thingie. Look, we don’t have the terminology all worked out yet. Like I said this is basically new territory except for Dick and Babs who don’t count and also Bruce, but he mostly communicates via grunts and scowls anyway, rendering most terminology moot.”

“What’s happening right now?” Her protege asks to no one in particular. Ugh. Unacceptable. She’s taking twenty points from House Twilight whenever she finishes reading those damn books and figures out just how that whole thing works.

“Okay, so the big takeaway from your first lesson here, because fuck that being cryptic noise, mentors who are always like ‘you have to figure out what you’re supposed to be learning here and then also learn it’ like, ugh, no. The worst, seriously.” 

Look, occasionally detours are probably inevitable, but the important part is that she remain strong when doggy-paddling determinedly towards her point, because good mentors can handle occasional detours and don’t treat them like Kryptonite that’s gonna kill them all when they’re literally just sparring in the Cave, like, perspective, have some, y’know? 

And also they don’t need to stop every couple hours into training so they can have temper tantrums because their kids are like, no dad, we can’t hang out today because that’s a thing that kinda happens when little kid people turn into bigger people people, like oh noes, gasp, horror. And then they have to go stomp around and make that everyone else’s problem because no matter how much they insist they’re loners, they actually really suck at being alone. Even though you’d think that mastering that particular skill would logically come first before you get around to training to say shit like “I am the Night, my dude,” with a straight face.

Its faintly occurring to her that she might actually have unresolved issues about Bruce and her brief apprentice-ship thingie with him. And also maybe its not super awesome conclusion and also the follow-up to all that bit of bother, all of which gargled a fair amount of donkey balls.

Ugh. Epiphanies are such losers. Literally who asked.

“Ahem. Anyway. Big takeaway. Teachable moment. Right. So yeah, first big thing is commitment. You start something, you see it through, got it? In this family and otherwise vaguely affiliated network of mentors and mentees, we don’t do take-backsies, okay? Its a matter of pride. Principle. Also, maybe brain damage. Like I said, this all really started with Dick, and he does get hit and shot in the head a whole lot, so admittedly, the rest of us do have some. Y’know. Questions. Now you sit there and absorb all that for a second. Like a sponge. See yourself as a sponge. Be the sponge. Good sponge.” 

Wisdom having been successfully imparted, Steph nods in satisfaction and then spins to take in the rest of the room, hands planted on her hips Wonder Woman style, because power poses are totally gonna be lesson two.

Her eyes find their way to Bruce easily enough, which makes sense seeing as how his scowl takes up half the room. Any room. Okay, at this point she's willing to jot that whole might have issues thing down as okay so maybe she definitely has unresolved issues with Bruce. So what? She also has a protege, albeit one who probably does need some more convincing to fully be on board, but the point remains that like. Whatever. Suck her entire ass.

“Well,” she declares loftily, as if she’s not just talking directly to the B-Man. Plausible deniability, yo. Just because she’s willing to admit to herself that she maybe definitely has issues to still sort through, that doesn’t mean she has to like. Go around admitting that to other people. She’s not some kind of heathen. “I trust that we’ll all remember where we were when it was undeniably revealed that I, Stephanie Brown, do in fact have Wisdom and Experiences to share with the youths of tomorrow. As that is a thing that just happened. Lo!”

“I have witnesses,” Steph declares with the dial set all the way to Peak Drama, because look, if you can’t lean into the drama in Wayne Freaking Manor, life is empty and meaningless and that’s gonna be her supervillain origin story, probably. She throws out an arm towards the rest of the table, encompassing the dual rows of expressions that could best be described as bemused - if she were being generous and also lying out her freaking ass.

Still, she stands firm in the silence that follows her ringing proclamation, allowing not the slightest hint of self-consciousness slip free of her self control, because she’d literally just made a big deal about how it was all about committing, and Stephanie Brown might be many things, but a hypocrite is not one of them.

Well, other than - nope. Not doing that again. Upon reflection and careful examination of what really matters, accuracy also can be invited to suck the proverbial it.

Besides, there’s too much at stake for her to allow any weakness to betray her now. This is a momentous moment. Clash of the Stubbornness kinda stuff. She’s facing down Punky Brucester himself, and on his own turf of all places. Things like principles....and...and being right, all hang in the balance.

And yes, Stephanie is well aware that she has left even Peak Drama in the dust aeons ago, and they’re deep in uncharted waters now, with like, here there be dragons, lurking dramatically. So what if she’s being ridiculous? She maintains that he had started it, she’s like 99% she is being not at all irrational and unreasonable about that, and by God, she will have her vindication or she will have....whatever the tail end of that cliche goes like. Unless its death, because she kinda sorta already did that, and as far as she’s concerned it counted, and either way, she’s way over it and not looking for reruns.

All the while, Bruce stares her down with his face doing that resting I’m Judging You Face thing that nobody can be that oblivious to walking around with all the time, no matter what they may claim in liar-esque fashion. 

Though, for all her various unresolved issues with him or whatever, she can admit to herself that the man is a goddamn master of conveying a bitch could care less. She’d sat on gargoyles that had served more face than Mr. I Could Be Listening To You Right Now or I Could Actually Be Thinking Boring Rich Asshole Stuff Like Whats Up With the Stock Market Today, LOL You’ll Never Know.

She upgrades her ‘Think About Issues’ notification to a maybe consider talking to someone about some of this stuff level.

When Bruce’s carefully placid facade finally breaks, then, it doesn’t break so much as it freaking shatters. Further evidence of this definitely being her superpower, which means time to move on to asking like, ugh why such an obnoxiously specific superpower, tho.

“She doesn’t even live here!” Bruce thunders again. Or some synonym that still means loud and forceful but also being desperate and totes whining. The Big Guy turns to face his children imploringly. He throws an arm in Steph’s direction for accusatory emphasis. Y’know. All dramatic like.

Oh shit. Maybe she did pick up some things from him after all.

Ugh. Okay, never mind, its definitely epiphanies that are gonna be her supervillain origin story. Seriously.

Fuck those guys.

[valentines-in-london]

I Need Fire (Part 4)

Previous Chapter       Next Chapter Summary: Rayne comforts an upset Jo before her best friend urges her to go out for the night and have fun.  What ensues is a hectic night that ends in Tommy comforting our resident red head, and a little more than that ;)

Authors Note:  Hey all!  Sorry for the delay I kept going back and tweaking little things in this chapter until I felt it was good enough to post.  Another chapter that kind of just kept pouring out of me, so it’s another long one!  I haven’t written smut in a very long time so I hope I don’t disappoint!  I’m also shit at writing chapter summaries, don’t hate me!!  Please let me know what you think, this is definitely out of my comfort zone<3

Warnings:  The smut is here!  Also unwanted advances on Rayne, not very detailed but it is in here.

Musical Inspiration: Van Halen-Everybody Wants Some Quiet Riot-Danger Zone Bruce Springsteen-For You (specifically the live version from Hammersmith Odeon) Motley Crue-Merry Go Round

Taglist: @triplehaitches @freddiessmallnipples send me an ask if you want to be added!

Word Count:  8,974  (I know, what the hell lol!)

Chapter 4

One Month Later

It had been a whirlwind since Motley got signed, the record company wanted to get them in the studio as soon as they possibly could something about “catching lightning in a bottle.”  As a result of that the band had been in the studio non stop for the past month, occasionally Rayne would stop by to see Tommy but she never wanted to bother him while he was working.  His dream was coming true and he shouldn’t have any distractions. Even though Tommy told Rayne countless times that she wasn’t a distraction at all, she was an inspiration (which of course made Rayne roll her eyes).

With all the chaos Rayne felt as if she hadn't had a moment to breathe and she had been craving a home cooked dinner for weeks. When she was got home from work that Thursday Rayne started making one of her favorite meals, spaghetti and meatballs. Rayne was straining spaghetti in the sink when Jo came through the door.  “Perfect timing, I made your favorite.”

“Oh my god you’re the perfect human being.”  Jo groaned before plopping herself down on the couch letting out a loud sigh.

“Ut oh, what’s wrong?”  Rayne asked pouring the spaghetti in a big bowl followed by some homemade sauce mixing it through.

“Ugh, it’s so stupid I don’t even want to talk about it.”  Jo closed her eyes brushing her blonde hair back off her face.  Rayne put the bowl on the table that already had salad and garlic bread ready to be eaten.

“Well too late, you brought it up.”  Rayne said simply pointing a kitchen utensil at her best friend. “Spill, or I’ll do what my grandma always threatened to do to me and smack you with a wooden spoon.”

“I failed my test today that’s twenty five percent of my final grade.  And… ugh,”  Jo paused getting up walking over to the kitchen table.  Rayne scooped up a nice portion of spaghetti and served it to Jo.  “Vince had another girl at the studio when I went over there before I came home.”

Rayne paused for a moment, before reaching for the salad bowl to give Jo a little bit in her side bowl.  “And I’m just so mad at myself because we weren’t serious and never ever exclusive.  I just didn’t think I’d be this upset about it.”

Rayne put a hand on Jo’s shoulder to comfort her.  “Well I’ll start with the easiest thing to tackle first, you eat.” Rayne pointed to the full plate in front of Jo, who followed her friends orders.  “You’ve done great on all your other tests so far this semester. So even if you did bomb this one there’s no way it’s going to keep you from graduating okay?”  Jo swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti and nodded slowly.  “And secondly that blows about Vince.  I know you guys were casual but I also know you really liked him.  Do you think you’ll be able to keep seeing him knowing it’s not just you?”

Rayne’s heart broke as she watched a tear slowly trickle down Jo’s cheek, the tear leaving a stain of black mascara in its wake.  Jo’s voice was so fragile as she replied, “I don’t want to lose him. God I’m so fuckin stupid.”

Rayne was on her knees wrapping Jo up in a big hug as soon as the words left Jo’s mouth. “Shh, it’s okay baby girl. It’s okay.”  The two stayed like that for a while.  Rayne had no problem letting Jo cry as long as she needed to, god knows Jo had given Rayne a shoulder to cry on many times. Eventually Jo lifted her head off of Rayne’s shoulder.  “You really are my best friend.”

“I know sweetie, I know.”  Rayne smiled softly wiping the stray tears from her friends cheeks.  “You do what feels right for you okay?  But only stay with him if you can truly deal with not being the only girl, and for the love of god make sure you’re using condoms so you don’t catch anything!”

Jo nodded, taking a deep breath.  “I’m so sorry about my meltdown, your amazing food is gonna be cold.”

Casually waving her hand in the air Rayne smiled, “That’s what we have a microwave for.”

Rayne felt for her friend she really did.  It was rare that Jo got this twisted up and upset over something, especially a guy.  Most of the time it was as is Jo was walking on air, free of all worries.  It was something Rayne admired most about her friend. She’d be lying if the sight of a broken down Jo in front of her didn’t shake her to the core a little bit though.  Rayne and Tommy hadn’t put a label on what was going on with them either.  She knew Tommy wasn’t seeing other women and vice versa but the fact that Rayne could be in the same place Jo was now was more than a big unsettling.

After dinner was finished the two began to clean up the mess, there really wasn’t much except plates and serving bowls to clean considering Rayne was a stickler for cleaning while she cooked.  That was one thing her Italian grandma passed down to her, that and a shit ton of great recipes. “Dinner was really good Ray, thank you.”

“Nothing like a bit of comfort food when you’re feeling down.”  Rayne smiled putting the dishes back in the cabinet.

“That’s the Italian in you.”  Jo pointed at her friend before laying down on the couch bringing her knees up to her chest.

“Don’t I know it?”  Rayne rolled her eyes before sighing.  “Jo what can I do to make you feel better?  I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m in a funk, I think I’m just going to head to bed.”  Jo ran her fingers through her hair once more.

“Are you sure?  I was gonna head to the Starwood later.  Quiet Riot is playing.”  Rayne offered.  “Or I could happily stay in and we can drink violet gin and tonics until we pass out.  Your call.”

“No you go have fun, I won’t be a good wing man tonight feeling like this.”  Jo declined.  “I think I just need sleep.”

“Alright, well… promise me at least that you’ll do one thing for yourself tonight. Take a bath, do your nails, dye those roots…” Rayne trailed off seeing is Jo would notice the friendly insult.

“You bitch!” Jo laughed out loud throwing a box of tissues at Rayne before she looked into the mirror by the front door. “They do need touching up don’t they?  I’ll make an appointment this week.”

“I’m just saying, do something for yourself.  Promise?”

“I promise.” Jo assured as she hugged Rayne. “Go have a blast.”

A few hours later Rayne was getting ready to walk out the front door.  She knew she wouldn’t see Tommy tonight, he was laying down drum tracks for a song called “Merry Go Round” and she was pretty sure the album was almost done.  She simply wore an old Van Halen t-shirt, a leather jacket and ripped jeans. Her red hair was teased as ever, tonight she chose to take a curling iron to some areas making them even more defined.  

Quiet Riot was not a band Rayne was particularly head over heels for but they always put on a killer show and they’re guitar player Randy was the best guitar player in LA in Rayne’s opinion, even better than Eddie Van Halen.  The Starwood was a little bit further away from the apartment, but it was still only a fifteen minute walk.  That was one of Rayne’s favorite things about living in LA: walking the strip.  Once nine o’clock hit every night the streets were just littered with kids. Some not even able to get into the clubs yet but it was all about the atmosphere, the scene was magnetic and everyone wanted to be around it in their own way.  You could always hear heavy metal music the entire time you walked, either people blasting it in their cars with the windows down or pouring out onto the street from the clubs.  

Depending on the day of the week you would walk on either concrete or hundreds of flyers people handed out trying to get their band noticed.  Rayne couldn’t fault them for it, any way to get the word out about their bands they had to take.  Rayne and Jo had taken many flyers being passed out by bands in their time living in LA, sometimes the bands end up being great other times they’re total duds.  Musical Russian roulette: just another thing that came with the territory of the strip.  That and they always put the prettiest guy in the band out on the street because they knew the girls would be more likely to take the flyer.

Rayne got a few cat calls from cars as she walked down the street by herself.  Too bad Tommy’s not here, they wouldn’t say that shit then.  Last week some guy bought Tommy a drink after the show he complimented Rayne's, uh, assets and Tommy ended up breaking a glass over his head.  The two had been spending time together but not every waking moment.  It didn’t upset Rayne in any way because she knew this was Tommy’s dream, she didn’t fault him for having to be locked in a studio to get everything perfect.  It was going to be their introduction to the world after all and the record company had thrown a lot of money at the band.  They had new wardrobe, new stage props, a recording budget, they even had a drug budget.  Rayne was pretty sure Tommy was hiding his using from her all together since the night she saw Motley play live for the first time.  That was the last thing she wanted, if Tommy hid that from her he would undoubtedly hide other things from her, which would leave Rayne heartsick like Jo.  They would definitely have to talk about that eventually, and also the big question: What the fuck were they? Friends?  Friends with benefits?  Boyfriend and Girlfriend?

Rayne was so caught up in her thoughts she almost walked right past The Starwood, once again a line was wrapped around the building.  She knew she should’ve waited in it but how could she when Brandon was working the door?  “Hey beautiful.”  Brandon smiled at Rayne.  Brandon was your average bouncer, picture every one you’ve ever seen in your mind and that was him.  “Where’s your boy at?”

“Hi Honey.” Rayne smiled at him giving him a hug.  “And he’s not my boy, I’m all alone tonight Jo didn’t feel good.”

“That’s not what I heard.”  Brandon had a cocky smile on his face.  Now Rayne was intrigued.

“What have you heard, about what?”  Rayne questioned.

“Ray, he’s your boy.”  Brandon repeated.   “Now are you coming in or not?”

“Yeah I am.” Rayne sighed walking past him patting him on the shoulder.

The Starwood was a smaller venue, she didn’t really know why Quiet Riot was playing here, they usually played the Whiskey or the Roxy.  Rayne pulled her cigarettes from her purse and lit one up checking the stage to see if she knew who the opening band was.  No one looked familiar so she continued her way to the stairs to the upstairs balcony, it wasn’t huge but there was a less crowded bar up there.

“Is that Miss Sykes I see?”  Rayne heard a happy southern accent from behind the bar.  Gloria was another LA transplant, but she was more obvious then Rayne.  Gloria was from Louisiana and was sweet as could be, it was actually off putting for Rayne at first.

“It’s me.” Rayne smiled lifting herself up on the bar to give Gloria a kiss on the cheek.  “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, same ‘ol same ‘ol sugar.  What can I get you?  Oh actually, hang on, we just got a new whisky from Scotland behind the bar I want you to try it.”  Gloria said.  See, things like that were not something one experienced often in LA.

“Sounds good, you know how I feel about whisky’s from Scotland.”  Rayne took a seat on the barstool.

“If it’s not from Scotland it’s not worth drinking.”  Gloria and Rayne said at the same time, sharing a laugh. “So what’s this I’m hearing about you and that Tommy boy?”

“Jesus Christ, what was there a conference call that everyone had to spread this around like wild fire?  Nothing, we’re just friends.”  Rayne held her hands out at her sides, not believing what she was hearing. The two were nothing official and so many of Rayne’s friends spoke about it like they were together, what the fuck was going on?

“Mmmhmm,” Gloria slid the glass of whisky across the bar.  Rayne held the glass up to her nose and took a deep breath. “Oh my god that smells delicious.” Rayne took a sip letting the amber liquid slowly trickle down her throat, breathing out slowly to really taste the flavor.  “And it tastes even better.  What is that?”

“Royal Lochnagar.”  Gloria responded.

“I might have you order me a bottle or two of that.”  Rayne smiled taking another sip.

“Just say the word and it’s yours darlin’.”  Gloria smiled as Rayne threw down a couple bills down at the bar.

“I’m gonna pop down and before the band comes on.  I’ll stop back up before I leave.”  Rayne popped up from her stool whisky in hand.

“Have fun sugar.”

Rayne descended down the steps as the opening band finished their set and music began to fill the room from the PA, the primal drums and chants of “Everybody Wants Some” by Van Halen got a rise out of everyone in the crowd.  Before Rayne got down to the bottom step she saw an open spot right in front of the soundboard.  That was a peak viewing spot, and always the place to go for the best sound.  Rayne held her glass up above her head as to not spill it on anyone.  As she made her way over there she was pushed backward and felt her drink spill down her back despite her efforts. She looked up and saw a guy with long dirty blond hair that she didn’t recognize.  “Oh my god babe I’m so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going.”

First he spilled her drink then he called her babe, yep two strikes against this asshole already.  “Don’t call me babe.” Rayne rolled her eyes making her way over to the spot she was trying to get to.

“Hey, come on!  I’m really sorry, let me buy you another one.”  He insisted once more, putting his hand on her stomach.

“Dude it’s fine, just piss off.”  Rayne turned towards the stage now that she’d gotten in front of the soundboard, brushing his hand off of her stomach and shaking the alcohol from her hair.

“So your personality matches your hair color, I like that.”  Wow, this guy just wouldn’t take no for an answer would he? Rayne just chose to ignore him. “Oh so it’s gonna be like that huh?”  This asshole stepped into Rayne’s personal space as he finished his sentence.

“Dude, can you back the fuck off?”  Rayne shot him her harshest look.  She was beginning to think, for whatever reason, that him spilling her drink was not an accident.  Without saying a word the guy turned and walked away, That’s weird.  What made him finally get the message?

When the houselights went down Rayne clapped and the band quickly kicked into Danger Zone, Randy wailing on his guitar and Frankie keeping the beat.  Usually she would’ve been more into it but that blond asshole put her on edge.  After the band played Slick Cadillac the guitar and drum solo kicked in. As cliché as it sounded Rayne chose that time to go to the bathroom as she felt like her bladder was about to explode.  She made her way through the crowd fairly easy, everyone was mesmerized by the talented virtuoso playing on stage.  The hallway to the bathroom was surprisingly not crowded, only one couple was making out back there.  Rayne pushed the door open and was surprised to see no one else was in there either, she chose a stall and quickly did what she had to do.  

Rayne walked out to the sink and began washing her hands when the bathroom door flew open, and her stomach dropped.  It was the blonde asshole from before.  “There she is!”

Now she was starting to get worried, there was no one else in here, just her and this guy. “What do you want?”

“Oh now she’ll speak to me.”  Asshole said patronizingly stalking Rayne.  “Things could have been so much easier before if you would’ve spoken.”

Rayne, on high alert began circling around him, hoping that would allow her to make a break for the door.  “I did speak to you, I told you to back off.  But someone must be hard of hearing.”

“Oh no I heard you loud and clear princess.”  He reached out and roughly grabbed Rayne’s arm and twisting causing her to let out a cry of pain.  He started clawing at her shirt with his other hand, Rayne fighting him every step of the way.  She was trying everything she could to knee him in the balls, scratch his eyes out, anything to get the upper hand.  “You think he’s gonna want you when he sees what I’ve done to you?  Not a chance Princess, I’m gonna ruin you.”

“I’m not your princess.”  Rayne said through gritted teeth pushing all of her weight down causing him to break his grip on her arm, while he was caught off guard Rayne also with every bit of strength she had in her kicked him right in the balls causing him to fall to his knees.

“Hey!” she suddenly heard another voice in the bathroom, it was Brandon. "Back the fuck up.”

Rayne watched as Brandon got down on the ground, grabbing the blonde by the collar getting a few punches in before throwing him out to another security guard at the door.  Brandon rushed over to Rayne who had collapsed onto the floor, the adrenaline coursing through her body causing her to do nothing but shake.  “Rayne, you okay?”

Rayne nodded her head, “He-he didn’t do anything.  Just grabbed my arm, but I got away.”  Her chest was rising and falling like it had never before in her life, it almost felt as if she couldn’t breathe.  Brandon wrapped Rayne up in his arms, “Shh it’s okay. I know you did.  It’s all gonna be fine.  Come on, can you stand?  I’ll take you to the office upstairs.”

Taking a deep breath Rayne pushed herself up, using Brandon as support to stand on her two feet.  She wasn’t hurt but she was fucking rattled that’s for sure.  “Come on lets get you upstairs.”

The two exited the bathroom turning to walk to the office.  Rayne had tunnel vision somewhat, everything was kind of a blur, she heard the faint sound of the band continuing to play, mixed with Brandon’s words of encouragement from beside her.  Before the two turned to walk up the steps Rayne’s eyes locked on someone that made her stomach turn.  The blonde woman from the night at the Whiskey what called her fat, the one that said she would pay for whatever offense she thought Rayne committed against her.  She had a smug smile on her face as she and Brandon approached her.  “Oh no, what happened to your shirt?  Looks like someone had a good time with you…”

For a moment Rayne actually thought she might throw up right there on the floor but with all the might she could muster forced herself not to.  At the top of the stairs she and Brandon approached a closed door, which once it was open revealed a red room with black furniture and carpet.  “Here Red, sit down.”

“What the fuck.  Rayne are you alright?”  asked the owner of the Starwood, Ken.

“Some asshole was about to assault her in the bathroom.”  Brandon answered.

“No some bitch wanted to hurt me and that guy was the vehicle to make it happen.  Or try to make it happen at least.” Rayne found her voice.  

“What? Who?”  Ken asked kneeling down in front of Rayne.

“It’s a long story.”  Rayne brushed it aside not even looking at the two men before addressing Brandon, “How did you even know to look for me?”

“We gotta call Tommy.”  Brandon said looking up at his boss causing Rayne’s head to snap up.

“No you absolutely do not have to call Tommy.  I’m a big girl and I’m okay.  I’m allowed to be shaken up okay!  Stop fussing over me.  Now answer my question, how did you even know to look for me?”  Rayne snapped a little bit, but who could blame her?  Emotions were running high and what could Tommy do now about the situation?  That’s right nothing!

“You’re one of our girls Rayne, and we protect our own.”  Ken softly said, placing a hand on her shoulder.  That was the moment Rayne started to cry.

“At least let me call you a cab, once you feel better.  I don’t want you walking home if that creep is still out there, or you can go to the police and press charges, we can pull the security footage.”  Ken offered and Rayne shook her head.  “I’ll just go home, as long as you’re paying for my fare.”

Ken and Brandon chuckled, “Yes I’ll pay the fare.”

Thirty minutes later Rayne exited the cab and made her way up to the steps of her apartment. What a fucking night: console Jo who was feeling insecure about her emotions, choose to go out and see a show, have maybe the best whisky she ever tasted, get assaulted by some fucking asshole that spilled said whisky on her, and come face to face with Satan herself who most likely orchestrated the entire thing.  She was absolutely calling out sick to her work tomorrow, it was just too much, Rayne didn’t even know if she’d be able to sleep. Pulling out her keys Rayne unlocked the door to her apartment, it was absolutely silent, Jo must have fell asleep hours ago.  Rayne took her shoes off and quietly made her way to her bedroom.  She turned a light on and went straight for her record player.  There was only one person that could be a soothing balm on her awful night: Bruce Springsteen. Bruce always reminded her of home, and on days or nights like this Rayne turned to his voice and his lyrics. She made sure the volume was turned down low and put the needle to the vinyl sighing when the piano began.

Rayne took off all her jewelry, necklace, bracelet, earrings and just as she was about to lay down on her bed she heard a knock at the door.  No one should be coming here especially this time of night, it was after 1AM and sadly Rayne’s first thought was could that guy have followed me home?  Rayne made her way back out to the front door, she looked through the peephole and was absolutely shocked to see Tommy standing outside. Unlocking the two locks she opened it up whispering to him, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Tommy didn’t even respond, he just walked in wrapping Rayne up in his arms and held on to her tightly.  Rayne quietly shut the front door once again.  “Tommy?  What are you doing here?  And how do you know where I live?”

Keeping his arms tightly around Rayne, Tommy kissed the top of Rayne’s head.  “Kenny called me and told me what happened… and then gave me the address he gave to the cab driver.”

“Motherfucker.”  Rayne would have screamed if Jo wasn’t sleeping down the hall.  “I told them not to call you!”

“Why wouldn’t you want them to call me?”  Tommy asked before Rayne shook her head.

“Let’s talk in my room.”  She locked the front doors once more and led Tommy to her bedroom down the hallway to the right. The two walked in and Rayne once again closed the door behind her.  “Jo had a shit day, I don’t want to wake her up.”

“Why didn’t you want them to call me?”  Tommy asked his question again as he sat down on Rayne’s bed on top of her mint green sheets.

“Because it’s not a big deal.  And what is the deal with all the sudden all eyes being on me since you and I have been spending time together?”

“Not a big deal?  Rayne some guy almost… he almost…" Tommy couldn't bring himself to say it, "and what’s wrong with people keeping an eye on you?”

“That’s not the problem Tommy.  The problem is that after I got into the office with Ken tonight one of the first things they said was ‘we have to call Tommy.’  What the fuck is that about?”  Rayne really wished she could be yelling this at him right now. “I’m an adult Tommy, I don’t need to feel like I’m being spied on whenever you’re not around.  What, you don’t trust me?”

"Of course I trust you.  I don't trust other people.  I know enough people in this city what's wrong with making sure you're looked after?"

"Tommy I'm 23 and I just met you a month and a half ago.  I've gotten this far in life on my own with no one protecting me. I once told you I'm not your mother and would never tell you what to do.  I expect the same from you, do you want to be someone I'm seeing or my father?  I'll wait." Rayne ranted.

"Of course I don't want to be your father." Tommy looked down at the floor.  "But I can still want you to be taken care of when you go out. If it were up to me you'd never have to worry about anything when you went out at night or for the rest of your life for that matter."

“It's not in me to rely on other people Tommy. If this is going to work you have to understand that.  And we’re a long way away from never worrying about anything for the rest of my life.”  Rayne grabbed his hand kneeling in front of him, “And I’m okay, see?  Not a scratch.”

Tommy held her hand but turned it so that her palm was facing up towards him, when he did that Rayne could see the bruise that was beginning to form on her arm.  “No just bruised.”

“Hey, look at me,” Rayne instructed and Tommy looked up at her before repeating. She knew she had to tell Tommy about who she thought was behind it all. “I’m fine okay?”

Tommy nodded his head silently.  It was a strange conversation to have, if anyone should be concerned about what the other was doing when they weren't around Rayne thought it would be her worried about what Tommy got up to without her.

"But there is something I should tell you that you haven't heard about." Rayne look a deep breath.

"What?"

"Well do you remember at the Whiskey I told you after you left that first night some girl called me fat.  And it was someone you had previously been with?"  Rayne started softly, she didn't want this to be a big bomb shell.  Tommy nodded and Rayne continued, "Well I didn't tell you that she told me I was going to pay for whatever it is she thought I did to her that night."  Rayne could see Tommy's fist clinching, instinctively she put a hand over it to try and calm him.  "Well when I was in the bathroom with that creep he said something to me about ruining me and how you wouldn't want me after he was through. Then when I left with Brandon that blonde woman was there with a smile on her face.  When I walked passed her she said 'it looks like someone had fun with you' before she turned and walked away.  I think she was behind everything.”

"I'm gonna fucking kill her."  Tommy seethed, quickly shooting to his feet.

"No you're not."  Rayne warned grabbing hold of his arm and bringing him back down to the bed. "You're not going to do anything of the sort.  Don't put fuel on the fire.  Hopefully she’s content with her actions and thinks she got the desired result.  Maybe we shouldn’t go out as much for a while."

“Fuck that dude!  There’s no way we’re doing that.  You’re my girl. And if anyone has an issue with it, they can fuck off.”  Tommy spoke passionately while Rayne sighed, nodding her head in agreement. He was right, that was a drastic move to not be seen out with each other, and why should they suffer because someone didn’t like that they couldn’t have Tommy?

“It's late. Do you want to stay the night?” Rayne questioned softly, still holding his hand.  She could see him perk up which caused her to laugh, “To sleep Tommy, just sleep.”

Rayne at that moment noticed what we was wearing, the tight jeans and hot pink halter top did not look comfortable.  She tried to contain her laughter but failed.  He looked silly.  “I have some clothes that’ll probably fit you.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be letting you borrow my clothes?”  Tommy questioned as Rayne opened one of her drawers shuffling items around until she found what she was looking for.

“Probably but until you live somewhere that is not infested with roaches I won’t be sleeping over at your apartment.  Sorry.”  Rayne smiled throwing him an oversized Led Zeppelin shirt and a pair of sweatpants.  “You know you better be happy that I have long legs, those should fit you for the most part.”

Tommy looked down at the clothes Rayne threw him with a smile on his face, but soon an awkward silence descended upon them in the room.  In the month that they’d been seeing each other off and on they somehow hadn’t done anything intimate yet.  Tommy was in and out of the studio, playing tons of shows, Rayne was at the office every weekday and occasionally visiting Tommy in the studio or going out.  Sure there was some heavy petting that happened but Tommy would always stop them (being a hopeless romantic and all) saying that he didn’t want it to happen in a studio bathroom, or the hallway of a club.  To say both of them probably had a case of blue balls at this point was an overstatement.  It actually made Rayne a bit nervous, she didn’t want him thinking she was a prude that wouldn’t put out.

“I’ll go change in the bathroom.”  Rayne fiddled with her pajamas.  Tommy quickly stood up, “You don’t have to.  I mean we’re both adults.”

Tommy started by taking his shirt off.  He was a string bean, that was the only way to put it, he was so thin there was an in dented line from his chest leading down to his belly button to the little patch of hair that disappeared into his jeans.  It was almost intimidating how thin he was; he had zero muscle on his body.  Tommy’s eyes softened looking over at Rayne.  Rayne hooked her thumbs on the bottom of her Van Halen t-shirt which was even more ripped than it was when she left and lifted it over her head. Rayne watched as Tommy turned sheepish, “I-uh-I’m not wearing underwear.”

“I mean we’re both adults Tommy.”  Rayne threw his words back at him.  "Or you could always wear a pair of mine."  Rayne said cheekily.  Tommy gave Rayne a small smile as he unbuttoned his jeans, lowering the zipper.  Rayne swallowed as she effortlessly slid the jeans down his legs, she tried to mask her surprise when she saw him naked.  Tommy was big, like really big, like Rayne only had toys that size and had never seen one out in the wild big.  Taking her eyes off his dick Rayne snapped her gaze up to his eyes. “Well I think we can safely say the codpiece could have been bigger.”

To say Tommy had a shit eating grin on his face was the understatement of the year.  He put his hands on his hips, “If you’re done staring, it’s your turn gorgeous.”

“I wish I could say I was half as confident as you.”  Rayne said nervously.

“Well I am letting you keep your bra on.  This time.”  Tommy winked at Rayne across the room.  He was trying to ease her nerves, it wasn’t really working. Standing across from her was the body of a God, a skinny God, but Godlike none the less.  Rayne took a deep breath, hoping it would fill her with courage as she unbuttoned her jeans, sliding the zipper down and eventually slipping them off of her legs.  Luckily Rayne was wearing underwear but to her she might as well have stood stark naked in front of him.  “You’re perfect baby.”

Rayne smiled at the compliment before throwing her shirt over her head and pulling a pair of shorts up her legs.  Tommy followed suit, but she had an aching suspicion he would’ve stayed naked if he could have.  Tommy sat back down on Rayne’s bed, pulling the covers down.  “I do have to wash my face before I go to bed. I’ll be right back.  Um-if you need to use the bathroom at any point it’s down this hall on the left.”

Rayne quickly went to the bathroom turning on the water to warm up.  She opened the cabinet grabbing her toothbrush and toothpaste.  Once her teeth were fresh and clean she reached for the mouthwash to swish around her mouth. Then came the face wash to wipe away the nights makeup.  Skincare was the one thing Rayne treated herself to, she wanted to keep her skin looking as good as possible for as long as she could.  Once her face was washed, toned, and her serums were put on Rayne placed all her skincare products back in the cabinet. The last thing for Rayne do was to take her birth control pill.  Rayne took a deep breath before walking back to her bedroom where Tommy was waiting for her in bed.  

“There’s my beautiful girl.”  Tommy turned his head on the pillow.

“God you have a silver tongue sometimes.”  Rayne laughed before she walked over to the bed sliding in next to Tommy. Rayne sighed, it felt good to finally lay down, and she curled into Tommy.  

“Rayne?”

“Hm?”

“What are you listening to?”  Tommy asked like she was listening to music created on the moon, which only made her laugh.

“Tommy it’s Bruce fucking Springsteen!”  She proudly said.

“Wha?”

“Are you serious right now?  Bruce Springsteen, as in Bruce Springsteen & The E-Street Band.”

“I know who he is babe, but why are you listening to him?”  Tommy asked still utterly confused.

“Because he reminds me of home, this is what you sign up for when you’re hanging out with a Jersey girl.  His music soothes my soul.”  Rayne knew he was far from metal, but the man's music always soothed any feelings of home sickness.  His words expressed emotion beautifully and his passion on stage was undeniable.

“You’re from Jersey?”  Tommy questioned.

“Didn't you notice the accent?  Jo tells me she hears it all the time.”  Rayne looked over at Tommy from her pillow.

“You smell a lot better than I would expect someone from Jersey to smell like, that's all.” She could actually hear the smile in Tommy's voice as he said that.

“Oh fuck you.”  Rayne laughed. “I’ll throw you out of this bed right now.  Is that what you want?”

“That’s the last thing I want.  I love how you smell by the way.”  Tommy complimented.  She always smelled sweet with a hint of smoke, it was intoxicating.

"Do you now?"  Rayne teased him.

"Mmhmm whatever you wash with or wear as perfume is incredible."  

Rayne reached over to Tommy gently caressing his face with her index finger, drifting over his cheekbones, his chin, his forehead.  Having him this close Rayne wanted to commit each bit of him to memory.  Rayne soon closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him as she started to fall asleep. "Just listen to the lyrics and how passionately he sings them.  Then maybe, just maybe you'll understand my love for The Boss."

Crawl into my ambulance, your pulse is getting weak Oh reveal yourself all now to me, girl, while you've got the strength to speak 'Cause they're waiting for you at Bellevue with their oxygen masks But I could give it all to you now, if only you could ask

Rayne felt Tommy’s hand playing with her hair, massaging her scalp gently, moving back down to her back before repeating his motions.  In the silence and darkness of her bedroom the lyrics caressed them like a gentle breeze.

Oh, and don't call for your surgeon, even he says it's too late It's not your lungs this time, it's your heart that holds your fate Don't give me my money, honey, I don't want it back You and your pony face and your Union Jack Well, take your local joker and teach him how to act I swear I was never that way, even when I really cracked Didn't you think I knew that you were born with the power of a locomotive Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? And your Chelsea suicide with no apparent motive You could laugh and cry in a single sound

“Rayne?”  Tommy whispered in the dark.  He was taken aback by how descript the lyrics were and on some level he could relate to them, but he could also see how they spoke to Rayne.  Music was obviously very important to her, and it was to him as well but on a different level.  In the month that he'd spent time with Rayne she had used music to describe how she was feeling multiple times, sometimes even quoting lyrics to Tommy. Music allowed him to see past any walls she put up, she allowed herself to be vulnerable when she expressed herself this way.  Tommy had no problems expressing how he was feeling, all that came from growing up in such a tight knit family.  For him music was an escape and release.  He had so much energy all the time music allowed a place for him to channel that.  It also allowed him a mask, Tommy was a product of high school marching band and always felt like a bit of a dork on the inside, sometimes even quiet and shy. But no one would ever guess that by the music he played and the look he presented while playing it.

It's not the way you're stretched out on the floor 'Cause I've broken all your windows and I've rammed through all your doors And who am I to ask you to lick my sores? And you should know that's true I came for you, for you, I came for you

“Yeah Tommy?”  Rayne asked in a sleep laden voice a single tear falling down her cheek, this particular song very much striking a chord with her tonight.

“I think I get it.”  Which caused Rayne to smile as she fell into a peaceful sleep with her favorite drummers arms wrapped around her.

The next morning Rayne woke up to banging on her bedroom door, her eyes shot open at the sound of her best friends voice,  “Ray, you okay?  You’re usually at work by now.”

Rayne sat up still groggy and noticed that Tommy was still sleeping next to her, but beginning to stir.  “Ugh god who is-“ He started to complain before Rayne slapped her hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“I’m okay Jo, I called out today I’m not feeling good at all.”  Rayne shouted back.  "Are you feeling any better today?"

“I'm feeling better I took a bubble bath after you left then fell asleep. Do you need me to grab you anything before I come back home tonight?”  Jo offered.

“No thanks Jo, you’re sweet.  I’m just gonna rest.  I'm glad you're feeling better.”  Rayne replied looking down at Tommy who had begun kissing Rayne's fingers as she covered his mouth.  “Have a good day.”

“Feel better chick.”  Jo said.  Rayne kept Tommy’s mouth covered while she still heard shuffling around the apartment, only removing it once she finally heard the front door close.  Rayne fell back onto the bed, her red hair spread out all over her pillow.

“That was close.”  Rayne sighed before looking over at Tommy and smiling.  “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”  Tommy smiled sleepily tightening his grip around Rayne.  “Are you ashamed of me?  Hiding me from your best friend.”

“No, but be happy the door was locked, because she would’ve come in here, seen you and she never would have left.  The questioning would have been endless, you would've felt like your mother just caught you in bed with me.”  Rayne replied honestly.  “Sorry she woke you up though.”

“It’s okay.”  Tommy replied leaning in to kiss Rayne softly on the lips.  Rayne sighed in response, burying her hands in his hair.  Tommy pulled away nuzzling Rayne’s nose with his.  “You know, since you’re playing hooky today I could think of one thing we could do.”

“Oh yeah?  What is that?” Rayne smiled over at him. Tommy didn’t respond, well verbally at least.  He leaned back in and kissed Rayne again, placing his hand at the small of her back to arch her against him.  She could feel Tommy was already hard.  Rayne couldn’t help the moans that fell from her mouth as she and Tommy grinded against each other.  Tommy smiled against her lips before he rolled the two of them over so Rayne was underneath him.  Rayne sat up when she felt Tommy’s fingers hook at the bottom of her shirt to allow him to lift it off of her.  Tommy put all his weight on his left arm to support him so he could admire Rayne’s body beneath him.  Rayne watched him closely trying to get a read on any emotion crossing his face other than desire, she couldn’t identify any.

“Sit up baby.”  Tommy spoke in a husky voice and Rayne was all too happy to comply.  She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him in for another heated kiss.  Rayne slipped her tongue into Tommy’s mouth when she felt his hands around the back of her bra.  Tommy quickly popped the clasps open, obviously experienced at the task. The two continued to kiss Tommy slid the black bra straps down her arms.  Rayne pulled away moving to slip Tommy’s shirt up and over his head. Tommy kept his eyes locked with Rayne as he pulled her bra away from her breasts.  Rayne could feel her chest rising and falling from sheer excitement and Tommy finally looked down, his breath hitching as he took in her naked upper half.  Her tits were fantastic, he thought instantly they were big but still perky with pink nipples that were begging for his attention.  

Rayne laid back on her pillows and Tommy followed suit peppering kisses all over her chest.  “Oh fuck.”  Rayne gave a strained cry as Tommy wrapped his lips around one of her nipples and began to gently suck on it, soon after switching to tenderly flattening his tongue against her nipple, giving it long languid strokes to give it some relief from his mouth.

She couldn’t help how she squirmed underneath him, it had been so long since anyone touched her like this.  She was wanton and eager and Rayne didn’t give a shit, his mouth and hands were heaven and she wasn’t about to give that up for anything.  Rayne reached down to try and slide the sweatpants Tommy was wearing off but he quickly stopped her.  “Ut uh, you gotta have patience Cherry.”

“Haven’t I been patient enough?”  Rayne questioned breathily smiling at his nickname for her.  “It’s been a month!”  Tommy leaned in to kiss Rayne in hopes to keep her from protesting, which it did.  He began to kiss all the way down her body, between her luscious breasts, down her stomach until he placed a wet kiss on top of the waistband of Rayne’s pajama pants.  Tommy took a moment to look up to Rayne, her right hand was thrown behind her head and her head turned to the side, lips panting against her tricep.  To say seeing her like that gave him a sense of pride was an understatement, he felt powerful that he could make such a woman lose herself. After he discarded her pajama pants Tommy hooked one of Rayne’s legs over his shoulder.  He brought his hands up to her panties and began to caress her over the silky fabric which caused Rayne to almost shoot off the bed. “Oh my god Tommy!”

“That’s a good girl.  So wet for me.”  Tommy smiled continuing to tease her through her panties.  “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck I want you…” Rayne cried as his fingers grazed over her clit before moving her panties down her legs discarding them to the side.

“My what?”  Tommy teasingly drug his fingers anywhere except the one place that would give her the most relief.

“Your mouth.”  Rayne whimpered begging to be touched.  Tommy didn’t make her wait long until his tongue was pressed flat against her pussy moving in long languid strokes.  Rayne spread her legs as wide as they could go, bringing her hand to her mouth to bite on her finger, “Oh my fucking god.”

“You taste so fucking good baby.”  Tommy grinned before exposing Rayne’s clit sucking on it just like he had her nipples earlier.  The sounds of her pleasure making him hard as a rock.  He continued to lick and suck on her until she buried her fingers in his hair urging him on.

“Tommy don’t stop, please!  I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby.  Let go.”  Tommy said before his mouth went back to working her clit which sent her over the edge.

“Oh my god Tommy!  Fuck!”  Rayne screamed as she felt her orgasm wash over her in waves, it was like a time bomb went off inside of her, her legs were trembling and she was completely out of breath. Tommy gave one last long lick against Rayne to get any little bit of her cum that he could, which only made Rayne shake again before making his way up her body.  Tommy placed his hands on either side of Rayne’s head leaning down kissing her passionately.  Rayne could taste herself on Tommy’s tongue, which only made her feel even more drunk on him.

“Fuck someone is sensitive.”  Tommy grinned down at the red head beauty who was finally able to catch her breath.

“Oh my god Tommy, that was amazing.”  Rayne spoke with her eyes closed, a smile plastered on her face.  She didn't think she'd ever stop smiling after that.

“It was amazing.  You make the sexiest noises when you're about to cum.”  Tommy ran his fingers through Rayne’s silky soft red hair.  Tommy rolled onto Rayne’s side, the position making Rayne utterly aware of Tommy’s hard on. She lazily turned her head to face Tommy, still smiling, “My turn.”

“No baby, you don’t have to.  I just wanted to help you forget about last night and make you feel good.” Tommy replied genuinely.

“Well mission accomplished.”  Rayne grinned before rolling over so she was on top of Tommy repeating, Tommy's hands immediately went to her breasts caressing them in his hands making Rayne moan before snapping out of her own pleasure.  Tommy was certain he could see two devil horns springing out of her head.

Rayne repeated Tommy’s movements, kissing him all down his lean torso.  Now it was her turn to make him squirm.  Rayne effortlessly slid the sweatpants down Tommy’s leg, smiling as his erection happily stood up at attention.  She threw the sweatpants in the discarded pile of clothes on her bedroom floor.  Tommy had propped himself up on his elbows to be able to watch Rayne. Rayne locked eyes with Tommy and softly dragged her nails up and down Tommy’s thighs.  She couldn’t help feeling good as she watched him throw his head back.  The head of Tommy’s cock was already slick, glistening with precum, Rayne couldn’t help herself she leaned her head down and gave one long lick around the head of his cock. “Fuck baby.”

Rayne happily placed her tongue at the base of his dick, slowly working it all the way back up to the tip.  She did so again, this time her tongue starting at his balls and working her way up to his tip.  She was trying to drive him crazy, and it appeared she was doing a good job. Tommy’s hands were clenching the sheets below in attempt to, she assumed, not push her mouth down onto his dick.  “Mmm, yummy.”

“Fuck Rayne I- argh” Tommy’s statement was quickly hushed as Rayne took as much of Tommy’s length as she could into her mouth.  As she had seen last night Tommy was extremely large, larger than anyone Rayne had been with before.  She brought her mouth down as far as it could comfortably go and she slowly dragged back up.  Rayne reached his head and pulled off with an audible pop.  Rayne dove back to the task on hand, this time when she reached her comfort level, she relaxed her throat and slowly inched her head down until she had Tommy all the way inside her mouth.  “That’s right baby take all of it. Take mmph-“ Tommy was once again cut off as Rayne began moaning appreciatively, the vibrations of her throat driving Tommy mad with lust.  When she pulled back she began to bob her head up and down at a slightly faster pace, occasionally slowing down to deep throat him.  While she did that her hands gently massaged Tommy’s balls.  “Fuck Rayne. I’m gonna cum.”

If her mouth wasn’t full she would have smiled, instead she kept working her head up and down sucking and licking as she went.  She appreciated the warning, but she didn’t have any issue with swallowing for Tommy, his cum wasn’t going anywhere but down her throat.  “Oh fuck.”  Tommy said one final time before he fiercely came in Rayne’s mouth. She could feel his hot cum going down her throat as she swallowed any last bit he had to offer.  Soon Tommy was finished and Rayne pulled away from Tommy’s dick.  Tommy was flat on his back, his hands covering his eyes, Rayne laid next to him satisfied with herself she kissed his neck.  “That was the best blow job I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“Oh please, you would say that even if I was shit at it.”  Rayne laughed at him, licking her lips still able to taste him.

“I’m not kidding.  I… I can’t even think straight.  My heart feels like it’s about to explode.”  Tommy said turning his head to look at Rayne.  Tommy brought his thumb up to Rayne’s lips rubbing it along her bottom lip, moaning when Rayne took his thumb into her mouth and began sucking on it.  “I want you.” Rayne whispered against his finger.

“I want you too, but not here.”  Tommy said softly.

“What? What’s wrong with here?” Rayne questioned starting to get scared.

“I want it to be perfect for you baby.  Do you trust me?”  Tommy asked nuzzling his nose against Rayne’s.

“I trust you. But you know I’m not a virgin Tommy, I don’t need a bed of roses.  That ship has long sailed.”  Rayne made sure he was aware.  

“That doesn’t mean it can’t be something to remember forever.”

“Oh you’re such a dork.”  Rayne smiled shaking her head.  “Do you want to hop into the shower with me?  Then afterwards we can make breakfast.”

“Mmmhmm, but hands off.”  Tommy pointed at Rayne.  “I know it’ll be hard for you but I’m gonna have to insist.”

“Yeah right.” Rayne chuckled pushing herself off the bed walking towards the door.  She turned to Tommy when she didn’t hear him behind her.  “You coming or not?”

“I just did.” Tommy grinned continuing before Rayne took back her offer.

“I’ve dreamt about your ass since the first night I watched you leave through the window of the apartment.  This is the first time I’m really seeing, I’m just taking it all in.” Tommy appreciated the view from the bed.  Rayne playfully shook her ass back and forth for him, surprising Tommy when she gave it a loud smack.  “Well how’s the reality?”

“Better than the dream.”  Tommy spoke sincerely before he pushed himself up off of Rayne’s bed and walked hand in hand with her to the bathroom.  He silently prayed that he had the strength to not make love to her until all his plans fell into place which he figured would be very soon.  One thing was certain though, what he said to Nikki the first night he saw Rayne was true.  He was, without a doubt, in love with her.

---

Take Me To The Next Chapter

Well there it is!  Please give me any feedback you have!  Like I said I haven’t written smut in ever!!  So if it was bad or good let me know!  Love you guys!!

[fiddleabout]

it's almost 2019! any chance of another best albums list this year?

per your request, my favorite 18 albums from 2018:

18. Chvrches - Love Is Dead

It’s weird.  It’s so weird.  I suppose they were due for a bit of a dud– by their standards, anyways– but it’s weird as shit to put them at the bottom of a favorites list.  And I was so excited!  I love Greg Kurstin!  But it just…didn’t work, not really.  There are some great songs, sure, because it’s Chvrches, dude, of course there are– Get Out is pure Every Open Eye-era bombast and delight– but if there’s any indication that as a rule the only people involved in a Chvrches album should be Cook, Doherty, and Mayberry, it’s the fact that one of the biggest flops on the whole album is the collaboration with Matt Berninger.  All of the pieces are there, the bones for good songs– as demonstrated by the acoustic EP of a selection of Love Is Dead songs they dropped a few months ago– but none of them fit together.

Favorite track: Graffiti is just barely edged by Get Out

17.  Robyn - Honey

Robyn is back and she pivoted a full 180 from the fembot offerings of the late-aughts into a completely human bodyslam of emotions.  The album starts out with an emotional punch to the face with Missing U and carries on from there, heavier and sadder than anything she’s done since Dancing On My Own.  It’s almost a disservice to her writing and her career over the years to say it’s the most mature she’s ever sounded, but at the very least it’s the most weathered album she’s ever presented.

Favorite track: Ever Again is sad and strong and shiny, everything you need to be when you’re healing.

16. Ariana Grande - Sweetener

It took me a while to get into this, to be honest: I probably hyped it up in my own head too much after no tears left to cry and god is a woman, to the point where I set Grande up to fail.  But after the first few months, the whole thing grew on me.  Ariana Grande is obviously one of the great voices in pop music today, undoubtedly, and she elevated her songwriting for this album.  It’s one of the most effective uses of guest spots I’ve ever seen– I normally cringe at even the concept of a Pharrell spot on an album, but blazed is legit as hell– and strips her vocals down to throw a middle finger at the idea that she’s just a big ballady voice.  This is a weird album that frankly doesn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks– look no further than R.E.M. or get well soon for proof– that’s peppered with pure pop delights like no tears left to cry and breathin.  

Favorite track: goodnight n go.  I’m a snob about my Imogen Heap and generally don’t trust anyone to do justice to her work, but this is as excellent at honoring the source sample as it is to striking its own sound.

15. Cardi B - Invasion of Privacy

We all knew it was going to be good.  Like, there are inevitabilities in life, and the album surrounding Bodak Yellow being good was always one of them.  Invasion of Privacy doesn’t let up for a second, save maybe for the Migos collaboration because there’s not a lot Migos doesn’t drag down; regardless, it’s an end-to-end powerhouse.  Cardi B, questionable Instagram advertisements aside, is here to do work, and she’s doing it better than anyone else in the industry right now.

Favorite track: Get Up 10.  If there’s another song in the world better for propelling your ass out of bed to the gym at six in the morning when it’s raining, I’d like to hear it, because nothing else has ever come close.

14. St. Vincent - Masseducation

I’ve generally limited myself to only including actual albums on this list in the past– else last year probably would’ve been one by Charli XCX’s mixtape Pop 2– but the world it is a a-changin and so too is the music industry, so fuck my own puritanism.  This may be a one-and-done sloppily-recorded cover album of her own work from 2017, but fuck it all if it isn’t excellent.  It slows down every piece of powerhouse from MASSEDUCATION and drags the juxtapositions– the jangley circus-sound of Pills, the power ballad of Young Lover– into the daylight, breaking them down to a piano and a lyric, breaking them down to bare bones and abandoning all of the drum machines and synths the truly horrifyingly sad nature of the original album had been hiding behind.

Favorite track: doesn’t matter how it’s dressed up or dressed down, Sugarboy always wins.

13. Cher - Dancing Queen

Look man.  It’s Cher.  It’s Abba.  Try and @ me and see what happens.

Favorite track: Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!  Don’t argue.  You know I’m right.

12. Soccer Mommy - Clean

I grew up in the nineties and garage rock was a huge part of my adolescence.  It mostly wasn’t good, but it was there.  Soccer Mommy– and a whole growing contingent of Gen Z-er girls with guitars who actually know how to play more than three chords– is making garage rock good.  This isn’t failed attempts at emulating Nirvana that devolve into bad shoegaze, this is precision and clear intent, deliberately smudged and distorted for effect.  

Favorite track: Your Dog.  I’m a cliche, sure, but there isn’t enough time in the universe to cover all the ways in which this is the most glorious musical fuck you I’ve ever heard.

11. Florence and the Machine - High as Hope

Is it her best album?  Not really, nah.  Like Chvrches, is a not-great Florence album still better than most albums?  YEP.  Florence Welch is one of the true rockstars of the 21st century, eschewing any interest in genre or style to create music that fits the song, drifting further away from the outlandish percussive bombast of her first two albums to a more grounded, softer sound.  Not always– Patricia and Hunger aren’t pulling any punches, lyrically or sonically– but enough to temper the rougher edges into a more rounded, more mature sound as ready to apologize as it is to fight.

Favorite track: Grace apologizes for a lifetime of missteps, wary and tired and holding tight to forgiveness on the framework of an echoing piano line and blowing out into a rich, heavy conclusion carried on a powerful percussion line and you are the only thing I’ve ever had any faith in.  

10. Half Waif - Lavender

Lavender is all dark rooms and scary shadows, oscillating wildly between densely packed and suddenly echoing and empty.  There’s no consistency to the sound or the structure, songs shifting and changing within themselves, tied together exclusively over Nadie Rose Plunkett’s voice, high and unaffected over everything else.  It’s a rich, compressed album, cramming enough lyricism and sound into 38 minutes for a full hour without ever feeling cramped or overpacked.

Favorite track: In the Evening is a sharp portrait of a failing relationship, wrapped in a gauzy, dreamy sound that builds and fades in turn, always on the edge of building without ever quite making it.

9. Bat Fangs - Bat Fangs

How much can you do in 25 minutes?  A lot, apparently, if you lean fully into the punk ethos and know how to use an electric guitar.  Bat Fangs has no room to breathe, no open spaces or pauses, no wasted landscape.  This is nineties punk at its finest, clocking in a generation later and at a higher caliber than anything I grew up with.  

Favorite track: Boy of Summer is a brutally intentional 2018 screw-you to the ode to the manic pixie dream girl that we all know and admittedly still love.  

8. Neko Case - Hell-On

There’s been a lot of talk in the last few years across the music industry about how genre lines are fading and music is crossing the existing boundaries of style and type, but Neko Case has been discarding style and type and genre for well over a decade now, ignoring every should of songwriting except for should support That Voice.  She writes without a single care for adhering to some arbitrary concept of how music can or should sound, as likely to write as close to a pop-banger as you’re going to get from someone who cut their teeth in indie and country as she is to drop an epic seven-minute power ballad that’s always toeing right up to the line of exploding but never does.  

Favorite track: Bad Luck almost takes it specifically for that nonstop push and my heart could break for a one-legged seagull but still afford nothing to you, but Halls of Sarah and that ringing, bursting I call but there is only an echo from a recording machine wins out every time.

7. Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour

Literally everything from here on out was, like, a straight up seven-way tie for first place.  I nearly cried at having to make a choice, okay.  This was Very Hard.

Country is changing, and by changing I mean it’s making its way back to pre-2001 machismo and patriotism and gun waving: it’s returning to an I-do-what-I-want-and-fuck-you free for all that’s rightfully defined as a genre more by sound and intent than by a political litmus test standard set by the NRA and the GOP.  Kacey Musgraves is, in many ways, the scion of that return, starting with her queer-friendly and frustrated with small town red state Americana first album and continuing on in this third entry into her catalog: Golden Hour plays with style and genre by dragging country kicking and screaming into the 21st century with tinges of disco and pop, unconcerned with the arbitrary restrictions placed on country in the last twenty years.  Golden Hour is, at its heart and in true country form, a bombastic and widely relatable album that nonetheless was written about family and personal relationships.  Kacey Musgraves is here to save country from itself, and she’s going to do it.

Favorite track: High Horse wins out by just a hair over Slow Burn, even though I’m still not convinced because the latter has one of the greatest and most evocative, informative first lines in musical history (born in a hurry, always late/haven’t been early since ‘88).

6. Boygenius - Boygenius

Look.  Look.  Okay.  There are great songwriters everywhere, but three of the absolute best in the business right now– Lucy Dacus, Phoebe Bridgers, and Julien Baker– are all independently writing extraordinary, brutal, heartwrenching music.  And then they decided to make their own supergroup.  I hate the term supergroup, because it’s generally useless and almost always hypes up something that ends up being mediocre at best, but it exists for this exact situation.  Boygenius and their self-titled debut is an exquisite collection of songs that are ground down to base parts and built around little more than a vocal harmony and an emotion.  All three have truly distinct styles and sounds and songwriting tics, and yet they come together as something that, while not necessarily more than the sum of its parts, is regardless an unparalleled aggregation that’s both wholly distinct and also completely Julien Baker and Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus.

Favorite track: absolutely, unequivocally Me and My Dog.  Ketchum ID is close, but nothing capitalizes on the truly particular and extraordinary way their voices work together as much as the second chorus and bridge in Me and My Dog does: Bridgers holds the lead the whole time but her voice blends in seamlessly with Dacus’s, while Baker’s holds separate and apart in the background right up until they all blend together in the last I dream about it/and I wake up falling.

5. Lucy Dacus - Historian

Music and how it’s consumed are changing, but there’s still a certain level of give-no-shits to opening your album with a six and a half minute breakup story.  Night Shift is a thesis statement for the rest of the album, not so much in content as in concept and the softer edges of Dacus’s voice.  The rest of Historian follows with the same sparse instrumentation that still builds and fills the space in an unexpectedly rich way, with the way her voice always sounds like an extension of the instrumentation more than a voice.  The album is filled with snapshots of moments in time, pieces of life that sometimes slip by unnoticed and sometimes burn themselves into memory forever, a lyrical triumph from start to finish.

Favorite track: Pillar of Truth, because I am weak looking at you/a pillar of truth/turned into dust.

4. Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer

I feel like I’ve been waiting ten years for this album, since Janelle Monae first showed up at the tail end of my undergrad years with March of the Wolfmasters, but even I wasn’t ready for it.  From that first opening high note from Brian Wilson to the sermon wrapping up the end of the album with a no-holds-barred statement of purpose, I don’t think any of us– even after the first singles, from Make Me Feel to Pynk– were prepared for what a Janelle Monae with more money, more clout, and a political fuck-you soapbox to stand on was going to offer.  Dirty Computer is the most overt and clear statement album she’s ever made, moving from the complex sci-fi dystopia of the Cindi Mayweather universe to the more pressing, more immediate, more concrete arena of the current state of affairs in real life.  She covers everything from sixties beach-pop crooning through every decade since, hitting disco and soul and eighties pop along the way until landing on 21st century hip hop and the most impatient, frustrated, enraged entry of Django Jane. Janelle Monae’s always been a chameleon, but she’s never proved it so much as she does here.

Favorite track: Americans.  There’s political commentary all over the music industry right now, but none of it is either as catchy or as brutally, honestly critical.

3. Snail Mail - Lush

Remember that thing I waxed poetic about earlier, about how a bunch of Gen Z girls who actually know how to play more than two chords on a guitar are reinventing nineties garage rock?  No one is doing it better than Lindsey Jordan.  This is what teenage garage rock should sound like: queer and wildly emotional, oscillating between euphoria and heartbreak, and set to a rich, rounded guitar riff and a whole lot of cymbals in the background.  

Favorite track: the way Full Control bursts out into the first chorus after holding and holding and holding just long enough that you thought it would never drop is a masterclass in building and releasing tension.

2. Christine and the Queens - Chris

Despite the fact that it’s only been three years since the first album, it felt like an outright eternity since there had been any new Christine and the Queens music, and then Girlfriend and Doesn’t Matter happened.  Chris is a statement on gender and sexuality set to a slick and unashamedly eighties mall-pop soundtrack.  Héloïse Letissier writes catchy, hooky music with a certain level of disinterest, the hooks an incidental consequence of the intent and the importance of the writing, and Chris picks up sonically where the 2015 self-titled debut left off, building on smooth, restrained synth-heavy instrumentation and growing it into something bolder and sharper.

Favorite track: What’s-her-face is almost what you would call a minute to breathe on an almost relentless album, but it’s a hold-your-breath-before-the-punch pause, heavy with tension that centers entirely on a basic snyth line the whole time, building and building in steps and pieces until it bursts.

1. Mitski - Be the Cowboy

I say that the top seven was basically all a tie, but let’s just be honest here: this was always going to win.  There wasn’t a single album all year that I listened to on straight repeat for days and days at a time except for this.  Mitski Miyawaki wrote an album that’s both pop and straight-up art school weird at the exact same time, balancing the rich and powerful bombast of Geyser with the full-on weird shit– I say with love– she made her name for in A Horse Named Cold Air.  Few people can shift gears the way Mistki can, shifting from something broad and beautiful and haunting like Pink in the Night to something stark and empty like A Horse Named Cold Air and then into jaunty and foot-stomping pop delight like Washing Machine Heart.  That three-song sequence could be surrounded by any amount of garbage and still elevate everything around it, but instead she surrounds it with an album filled to bursting with exquisite, evocative entries: Geyser blows up like its namesake; A Pearl strips itself down to nothing and lulls you into a false sense of restraint until it slaps you in the face with the chorus; Remember My Name stomps from right out of the gate and doesn’t let up the whole time, the whole song orbiting around I need something bigger than the sky in a dizzying rush; Two Slow Dancers echoes like a half-empty high school gym at the end of a ten reunion, hollow and lonely and resigned.  Mitski is unequivocally one of the most extraordinary songwriters in the business, not just currently but historically, and no one even had a chance of coming close to touching this album in 2018.

Favorite track: not even going to try.  I realized when I was writing this that I have the transitions so stuck in my head that I don’t even actually remember how half of the distinct songs start on their own.  It’s not an album to be listened to in pieces: right as the entire concept of the album is fading away, Mitski came and dropped one of the most incredible monuments to the concept of an album in history.

honorable mentions:

years and years, palo santo

natalie prass, the future and the past

hozier, nina cried power

the carters, everything is love

chloe x halle, the kids are alright

leon bridges, good thing

tash sultana, flow state

empress of, us

[moneyintrend]

Making money with Apps - Earn from everywhere

Every week, we already spend hours on our phones. With its weekly screen usage stats, Apple has made us acutely aware of this. Why not make some money with those hours?

There are plenty of money-making applications available for both Apple and Android users these days. Taking surveys, playing games, watching movies, investing, and even buying are all ways to make money.

The 10 Most Profitable Apps

We've tried a lot of applications, so trust us when we say we've tried a lot of them. We weeded out the duds and put up a list of our top-rated money-making applications.

1. InboxDollars: Earn Money by Watching Videos

Most of us are familiar with InboxDollars, but did you realize it pays you to watch videos? There's a lot to watch on the site, including cuisine, entertainment, news, and wellness programs. InboxDollars will credit your account with a little amount of money each time you watch one.(Are you new to InboxDollars? Here's our beginner's guide.)

Pros: You earn cash with InboxDollars, so you don't have to worry about trading points. It also has more opportunities to make money, such as surveys, scratch-off games, and internet searches.

Cons: To pay out, you must earn $30, which is a bit expensive when compared to the other sites on our list. A $3 transaction fee will also be charged.

Payment is made via check, which is mailed to you. Get a $5 incentive just for joining up and watching your first video, according to a pro tip. Available for Android (4.3 stars) and iOS (4.3 stars) (rated 4.4 stars).

2. Lucktastic: Free Scratch-offs to Win Big

If you're sitting on the sofa looking through your phone, download the Lucktastic app to play free scratch-off tickets for a chance to win $1 to $10,000 instantly.

Pros: You may download and use Lucktastic for free. You have nothing to lose if you have some spare time.

Cons: According to user feedback, winning money is an uncommon occurrence. However, we spoke with a single father who had won $5,000.

Earn a minimum of $2 and then cash out for an immediate gift card. If you spend $10 or more, you can request a check in the mail. Keep a charger on hand to keep your phone charged. Available on Android (4.2 stars) and iOS (4.2 stars) (rated 3.2 stars).

3. Get Free Prepaid Visa and MasterCards with Fetch Rewards

Fetch Rewards, a free app, will convert your receipts into gift cards. It works with a variety of companies to reward you with points for each supermarket receipt you post. Then you may swap them for Visa and MasterCard prepaid cards.

To earn prepaid Visa or MasterCards, just download the app and establish an account, then upload photographs of your supermarket receipts.

Pros: There's no need to scan barcodes or look for deals; all you have to do is email Fetch a snapshot of your receipt, and it'll take care of the rest. It may also be used with any grocery receipt.

Cons: Cashing out requires a minimum of 3,000 points, however offers range from 250 to 3,000 points, so hitting the minimum should be simple. We've seen offers for 2,000 points with the purchase of a Suave female hair product and 2,000 points with the purchase of a Blue Moon 12-pack.

When you achieve your minimum, you may cash out for prepaid Visa and MasterCard cards or gift cards to participating shops.

Pro tip: Use Fetch as soon as possible following your shopping trips, as your receipts must be within the previous 14 days. Plus, when you download the app, enter the code PENNY to get 2,000 points instantly when you scan your first receipt – you'll be well on your way to your first gift card in no time. Android (4.2 stars) and iOS (4.3 stars) versions are both available (4.8 stars).

4. Ibotta: Make Money While Shopping

You may get cash back on a variety of transactions using the Ibotta app, including groceries, Uber trips, and Amazon purchases. Simply take a picture of your receipt or use the app to shop.

Pros: Ibotta is a fantastic method to save money on goods you currently buy, both in stores and online. You'll occasionally come across gratis offerings in the mix as well. We spoke with Nancy Frost, who received $432 in cash back over the course of a year.

Cons: Be wary of purchasing goods you don't actually need only to earn money back. It's alluring.

Payment method: Once you've reached $20, you may cash out by PayPal or Venmo, or choose a gift card to a major shop such as Amazon, Best Buy, Target, or Walmart.

Pro tip: Get a $20 sign-up bonus by downloading Ibotta from The Penny Hoarder and redeeming your first 10 offers within 14 days. Available for Android (4.5 stars) and iOS (4.5 stars) (rated 4.7 stars).

5. Nielsen Consumer Panel: Earn Money for What You Keep in Your Fridge

Nielsen is a market research firm that you're undoubtedly acquainted with. It's always kept tabs on TV ratings, but now it wants a look inside your refrigerator. Scanning the barcodes on your shopping goods earns you points in the Nielsen Consumer Panel app.

Pros: Becoming a member of this market research panel is quite straightforward. Scanning the barcodes of things you've purchased is as simple as downloading the app and scanning the barcodes of the items you've purchased. To get points, share your data with Nielsen.

Cons: You won't get paid in cash or gift cards; instead, you'll get rewards.

Method of payment: Earn points that may be redeemed for items such as toys, gadgets, or household equipment.

If you don't want to use the app, you can request a portable scanner instead. Available for Android (with a 3.7-star rating) and iOS (with a 3.5-star rating) (rated 4.4 stars).

6. Acorns: Invest Your Change (and Receive a $5 Bonus)

Investing is a fantastic method to make money over time. If you're just getting started, the Acorns app is a good place to start. It allows you to invest tiny sums of money.

Pros: With Acorns, you can be as hands-on or as hands-off as you want. Its round-up function rounds up each transaction and invests your digital change automatically. In less than two years, the software helped Jeremy Kolodziej amass more than $2,000 in investments.

Cons: Acorns charges $1 per month for accounts with less than $1 million in balance. It's a shame it's not free, but consider this: for the price of one month of Netflix, you can receive a year of investing.

Withdrawals are not subject to any limitations or fees. You may withdraw money as often as you like, but investing is preferable in the long run.

Pro tip: If you join up for Acorns through The Penny Hoarder, you'll receive a $5 bonus, effectively giving you five months of free service. Available on Android (4.4 stars) and iOS (4.4 stars) (rated 4.7 stars).

7. MyPoints: Tell Us What You Think

MyPoints is a website that connects consumers to market research survey opportunities. It has been in existence since 1996.

You may earn gift cards by completing polls and filling out surveys using MyPoints. You'll get a $5 prize after completing your first five surveys.

Pros: You get points even if you don't qualify for a survey. It's also a simple gateway with a variety of methods to gain points, such as participating in polls and viewing movies.

Cons: Because MyPoints links you to surveys on third-party consumer marketing sites, you'll frequently leave the site's portal. Users say they have a hard time qualifying for surveys. (I didn't qualify for any of the five tests I took recently.)

Gift cards to major shops such as Amazon, Old Navy, and Starbucks are accepted as payment. Tip: After qualifying for and completing your first five surveys, you'll receive a $5 bonus. Android version is available (rated 3.5 stars).

8. Rover: Earn Money Playing With Dogs

You may opt to provide a number of services on Rover, such as dog walking, overnight boarding at your or their house, and daycare. According to Rover, sitters may earn up to $450 per month.

Pros: Is there anything more enjoyable than spending time with dogs? However, take it seriously. Rover allows you to establish your own hours and pricing. Choose the services you'd want to offer as well.

Cons: To build a solid reputation on Rover, you may need to decrease your hourly prices at first until you break into your city's market and start receiving favorable reviews.

You establish your own rates as a payment option. (A little percentage is kept by Rover as a service charge.) Payment can be made straight to your bank account. The money may take up to 72 hours to transfer.

Pro tip: Because boarding is the most popular service on the app, offering it might help you land more bookings. Available on Android (4.2 stars) and iOS (4.2 stars) (rated 4.9 stars).

9. Foap: Make Money With Your iPhone Camera

Do you have a smartphone that takes decent photos? Foap is a website where you may sell your photographs. List your photographs in the app's marketplace, and if someone buys the photo's license, you'll get 50% of the sale. If it sells for $10, for example, you'll make $5 every time.

Pros: Today's phones have amazing cameras, making it easy to snap high-quality photographs. The effort is done after you capture the ideal image and post it to Foap. All you have to do now is wait for a sale.

Cons: You can't be sure your photographs will sell. Also, don't expect to make a lot of money; this is simply a fun side project.

Payment method: You'll get 50% of the sale and may pay out using PayPal. Add relevant tags to your photographs as a pro suggestion. It will assist users in finding your photographs, much like it does on Twitter or Instagram. Available for Android (with a 3.8-star rating) and iOS (with a 3.8-star rating) (rated 4.5 stars).

10. Sell Your Old Stuff on Letgo

Why keep old items that you haven't looked at in over a year? Try using an online marketplace like Letgo to sell them to others in your region. It takes a lot of the effort out of selling anything online, and it's completely free to use.

Pros: Letgo allows you to sell almost anything. In less than 30 seconds, you may snap a photo and upload your item using our simple software. Another significant benefit? Letgo doesn't take a cut of the sale, so anything you make is all yours.

Cons: There's no assurance that your products will sell. Your goods may sell like hotcakes in record time...or they may sit in your closet collecting dust for a long. However, many internet markets have this danger, so brace yourself and wait.

Payment method: Letgo is only an online marketplace where you may list your things for sale, not a place where you can complete the transaction. What are its recommendations? Meet in a public area and only transfer money once the buyer has seen the goods.

Take cash or utilize a secure payment option like PayPal as a backup plan. Don't accept a "certified check" - according to Letgo, this is a typical fraud. It's also not a good idea to ship things. Available for Android (4.5 stars) and iOS (4.5 stars) (rated 4.4 stars).

[i-dnt-know-either]

I love Pokemon and One Piece, so I stuck them together! Also I’m going to put an explanation for why I made the teams the way I did under the cut, because it’s going to be a long one!

Luffy: Vigoroth and Machoke are both fighting Pokemon, with Vigoroth specifically having a reputation for being extremely energetic. With Breloom, if you read one of the Pokedex entries it says it “throws punches with its stretchy arms” so, ya know. Also I imagine that the Buizel was given to him by Shanks (whose team I’m going to post in the next batch) to try and keep him safe after he ate his Devil Fruit.

Zoro: Doublade and Gallade are sword-based Pokemon, and Mihawk has a Aegislash with him (again, I’ll post his team next). With Chesnaught, I figured Zoro would need a Pokemon to tank some damage from all the trouble he likes to get in while still doing a lot of damage. With Skarmory and Jangmo-o, if you read their Pokedex entries (or Kommo-o’s in this case) they say that their feathers/scales can be used as swords/weapons once shed.

Nami: Purrloin is a thief that tricks people by acting cute, Sableye is made of/good at finding gems, Klefki likes to steal keys and hold on to them (very useful for a thief), and Castform is tied to the weather.

Usopp: Sentret is a cautious, nervous Pokemon that acts as a lookout for danger and then cries out loudly when it sees anything. Klang is a pair of gears and probably helps Usopp make all his weapons/inventions. Heracross and Carnivine he probably picked up during the two year separation.

Sanji: Hitmontop is known for kicking while spinning on its head. Tropius is known to give its fruit to people, and Sanji probably picked it up after he joined with Zeff (after they got off the rock), so he’d always have a way to feed himself/others if at least for a little while. Rapidash, with how fast it runs, surely kicks just as hard. Gardevoir and Silvally I think he’s had since a kid (as a Ralts and Type: Null). With Type: Null, I imagine it might have been something his father had a hand in creating, and when it was considered a dud, he stuck it with his “dud” son (also, the whole masks thing).

Chopper: Chopper is a bit of a different case. Since he is a reindeer who ate a Devil Fruit to become human, in a Pokemon AU I think he would be a Deerling who ate it. Also, he didn’t “catch” Audino, and instead they work as a team to heal people (also it might be Hiriluk’s maybe?).

Robin: Ambipom is a Pokemon that uses it extra hands on its tails to go about its life. Cradily and Bronzong are both artifacts of the past (one a fossil, the other a bell). Alakazam is incredibly intelligent and has a near perfect memory, which would make him a perfect partner. Unown is a mysterious alphabet-based Pokemon, and in a Pokemon/One Piece mash up would undoubtedly be tied to the poneglyphs.

Franky: Conkeldurr and Excadrill are very strong Pokemon tied to construction. Alolan Golem can fire weapons out of their body with devastating effect, and Steelix has a harder-than-diamond body that has been tempered by heat and pressure. 

Brook: Kricketune is a Pokemon that can create music with its body (which greatly resembles a violin) and its arms resemble thin blades. Jellicent is a ghost/water type known for sinking ships and eating life energy, while Yamask was formed from part of Brook’s own spirit before it was properly reunited with his body. Wailmer, obviously, represents Laboon.

And that’s it for now! The next batch will be Ace, Marco, Whitebeard, Shanks, Mihawk, and Law (and any others I make between now and posting them). If you have someone you want me to make a team for, let me know!

[seedfinance]

Business Ideas That Sound Good on Paper but Are Duds

Visualspace / Getty Images

For many people, starting a company is an exciting idea. Others who may have lost their jobs during the coronavirus pandemic may find it necessary. Before you take the plunge, however, do a thorough research of your options.

Small Business Spotlight 2021: Take a look at our Small Business Stories and the nominated companies in your area Get Started: Small Business Ideas for a Post-Pandemic World

Many business ideas sound great on paper, but reality can be very different. You may be excited about some or all of the 10 business ideas below, but they would all be extremely difficult to implement successfully in the current business environment. Before diving into any of these industries, check with a small business expert to see if you should consider looking elsewhere.

Last updated: April 5, 2021

Process payment.

Pet supplies shop

It is known that pet owners are willing to spend almost anything on their furry friends. In fact, many owners consider their pets legitimate members of the family. So opening a pet shop sounds like a great idea with a guaranteed flow of customers. The problem is competition and pricing. Pet supplies are now readily available in a number of places beyond specialty pet stores, including drug stores, grocery stores, and numerous online outlets. As with any business, when you find a place where the only pet store is within 100 miles you might run into something. However, for everyone else, it might not be the best option.

Discover: 25 Small Businesses Every Neighborhood Needs

Young woman in travel agency buying tickets.

Travel agency

Hardly anything sounds more glamorous than being a travel agency. Between helping clients travel to exciting places around the world and actually visiting those areas, the idea of ​​being a travel agent is a dream come true for many. However, times have changed. About a third of all trips in the US are now booked online, and the number of travel agencies in retail is falling. Even if there will always be a personal sale in travel agencies, the industry is shrinking significantly. One way to counter this would be to run a niche or specialty agency, but you need to do your homework to be successful.

The story goes on

Discover: How to Budget and Plan a Vacation in 2021

The team of chefs supports the work in the modern kitchen, the workflow of the restaurant in the kitchen.

New restaurant

Opening a restaurant has always been a tricky business. Historically, around half of all restaurants fail within the first five years, according to Fundera. However, with the ongoing effects of the coronavirus pandemic, that overall failure rate will undoubtedly increase. Jumping into an industry with a historically high failure rate at a time when restaurants are facing tremendous headwinds seems like a particularly risky move.

More: 18 restaurant chains that have filed for bankruptcy

Vintage toned portrait of a young writer, blogger or freelance designer working on the laptop while having a cup of coffee in her living room in the beautiful bright apartment in the center of Paris in the Montmartre district.

to blog

Blogging is an attractive industry for many because it offers an opportunity for self-expression. In addition, there are hardly any barriers to entry. All in all, blogging seems like an easy way to make some money. But reality falls short. Traditionally, blogs rely on advertising revenue to make money. But there are only a limited number of ads that users can click on. This is where the low barrier to entry actually hurts bloggers. With so many blogs and ads, it is difficult for a single blogger to actually generate income. Unless you already have a huge social media follower, are a well-known celebrity, or have a particularly interesting niche, making real money blogging can be difficult.

Read: 22 Side Gigs That Can Make You Richer Than A Full-Time Job

Young food blogger entrepreneur writing blog posts and working online on laptop from home office.

E-commerce shop

Similar to blogging, there are very few barriers to entry when you want to start an ecommerce store. However, an ecommerce store has many of the same barriers to profitability as a blog, particularly visibility and competition. If you want to make sales from your ecommerce store, you need to make it known that you are online and available. If your website isn’t showing up in search engine rankings, with luck, no matter how good your products are, you might just get a few sales. Even if customers know you exist, you are competing against countless other sites for price and product quality, including big-name retailers like Costco, Target, and Walmart. You can get some sales of a unique product, but when you are trying to make the big bucks, ecommerce is a very difficult road to go.

See: How the Pandemic Changed Online Businesses

Close up of a microwave oven with sticky notes showing broken text.

Electronics or equipment repair

If you’re good at fixing things, you might consider getting into electronics or equipment repair. After all, things keep breaking all the time, right? Unfortunately, there are a number of headwinds when it comes to being an independent repair person. For starters, electronics and home appliances are getting cheaper and cheaper. When a product is out of warranty, many consumers are more willing to simply buy a new product than pay for a repair, especially if the price difference is not too great. In the American consumer culture, many customers upgrade their devices or electronics every few years, even if they are not broken. The bottom line is that it is becoming increasingly difficult to be successful as a repair professional, especially if you are about to open a new workshop.

Find Out: 25 Things You Should Never Buy From A Stranger

Health, safety and pandemic concept – male taxi driver wearing protective medical face mask driving car with passenger.

Transport company

Transportation services always seem to be in demand and therefore offer solid business opportunities. Unfortunately, the landscape for these types of businesses has changed dramatically in the last decade or so. Ridesharing like Uber and Lyft have dramatically curtailed the taxi and limo business, and even the coronavirus pandemic has made public vehicle travel less attractive. Specialty transportation, such as senior citizen rides, can be a viable niche game, but even that would require jumping through government hoops. Overall, the business is difficult for all newcomers, as existing players with established infrastructure dominate the industry.

More: 94 Money Making Skills You Can Learn in Less Than a Year

Wedding photographer photographs bride and groom in nature in summer, art photo.

photography

Good photographers have always been in demand, especially for weddings, family portraits, and other special occasions or occasions. However, it cannot be denied that the proliferation of high quality cameras on smartphones has reduced the need for professional photography services. The Samsung Galaxy S20 Ultra, for example, has a 108 MP camera, 8K video, and 100x digital zoom, specifications that were professional in the not-too-distant past. While photographers will still be in demand for certain special occasions, the general need for photographers is rapidly shrinking.

Read: Familiar Things That Are Soon To Go Away

Young woman shopping for wine.

Liquor store

The liquor store on the corner used to be the easiest and best way to find the drink you wanted. But these days, like many retail stores, you can get almost anything you want from a variety of sources. Big box retailer Costco is actually the largest wine retailer in the country, and online sources and even grocery stores now carry a wide variety of liquor on their shelves. Many of these sources are actually cheaper than freestanding liquor stores, and buying alcohol while on regular shopping trips is convenient enough for most customers. There will always be spontaneous purchases in liquor stores, but the competition in the industry is fierce.

See: 40 purchases in the supermarket that are a waste of money

Bird’s eye view of multiethnic group of laughing young people enjoying nightclub dance party and drinking champagne, focus on the clink of glasses.

Night club

When it comes to dream stores, opening a nightclub is high on the list for many. Who wouldn’t want a hip experience with live entertainment, cocktail specialties and a good atmosphere? But again, the reality of this type of business is generally far from fantasy. Even at the best of times, a nightclub needs a good location, advertising, and some sort of attraction to draw crowds from other entertainment venues. In 2020, the coronavirus closed all nightclubs and many will never open again. Even if the pandemic subsides as expected, customers may be reluctant to crowd into small areas for a long time. In short, starting a nightclub could be a short-lived experience.

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This article originally appeared on GOBankingRates.com: Business ideas that sound good on paper but are duds

source https://seedfinance.net/2021/06/23/business-ideas-that-sound-good-on-paper-but-are-duds/