#i just see NOBODY talk about them aside from posting their music places

[thetooncrew]

every time i think about marasada i go why don't they have more people talking about them every song of theirs is literally the best thing i've ever heard and then i realized that they get literally millions of views on their stuff. so

[shiraishi--kanade]

Point A: Taiga never actually wanted to stop VBS from pursuing Rad Weekend.

Point B: Taiga massively lost the idgaf war with himself with that one.

I promised I would not be LUtF posting but it seems I'll end up LUtF posting anyway. Oh well, here's a short-ish one

Taiga is one fascinating fucker of a character, but I feel what most people get wrong about him is that he never actually went into LUtF with genuine malice.

Most importantly, Taiga is a character who vastly prefers to speak with his actions rather than words; this is somewhat canon and is referenced in On Your Feet!:

With that in mind, you have to consider the things Taiga did for VBS (+ team) prior to LUtF. And it's actually... More than anyone else aside from maybe Ken.

1. Probably the most important one, letting them see COL venue (Legend Still Vivid)

This is both a precious memory for Akito and An and an important experience for Touya and Kohane, who have not been there before. He does this entirely on a whim by Kohane's request, but it's important to see that he is genuinely touched by Kohane's resolve, as well.

(It's heaving implied that literally the only people who would be able to give VBS that opportunity would be Taiga and Ken, but Ken was at that point still massively hitting the brakes on how much he wanted to involve himself into the mess that would later become LUtF - although we can see him starting to crack, as well)

2. Giving actual, genuinely good advice to Kohane that pointed VBS in the direction of "you need to connect with people of the town to be able to surpass RW" (Kick it up a notch)

Taiga and Kohane's mentorship relationship were genuine to some degree; even before that, in Awakening Beat, Taiga also gives Kohane the advice she needed.

Bonus point: he also gave this same advice to Arata, a kid he barely knows (Power of Unity)

This is genuine and valid advice; you can see how it ties into Nagi's story and how RW came to be. Why would Taiga be giving out free tips if he was opposed to anyone trying to surpass RW? Let's mark that down for later.

3. Helping out Akito as well (Fina a Way Out). Whether is intentional or not is up for debate, but it's important that it took Taiga to talk to Akito for him to finally find inner peace.

While he's at it, Taiga gives almost the same, if not more, amount of support to VBS. So why?

Because of VBS' third event, RISE. it's a pivotal moment for their story, and it changed a lot of things... But most notably, it showed Taiga that they are serious.

Keep in mind that Taiga never entertained Nagi's idea to pass their dream on to the next generation in the first place. It was something Nagi wanted, and what Ken wanted to see through, but not Taiga (Light up the Fire, Episode 7)

Taiga: (...Nagi. This isn't for you.)

Shortly after:

Taiga: after everything, no matter what you say to me, my resolve won't change.

Taiga: no matter what, I will make our music the best in the world.

Taiga: this if for nobody's sake - I'm doing this for myself.

Through the event, Taiga is strongly against the idea of giving up on their dream - on his dream. While he doesn't appear to harbor any grudge towards Ken in particular, he is very unhappy - and is downright cynical - about the idea of someone following in their footsteps.

So for the most of his presence in the story, what he does is just entertain the idea of VBS actually getting on that level. He's tentatively curious, but he's not exactly emotionally invested in it. He's taking a "wait and see" approach towards VBS as a team, nudging them on, but without any particular serious intend behind his actions - he doesn't believe they're strong or willful enough.

And hoo boy he waited and saw.

After the absolute hell VBS brought up at Crawl Green and most of the audience seeing Nagi in Kohane (basically confirming his suspicions), Taiga realised that oh shit, those kids are actually doing it... Which meant it was about for him to show them what they're actually getting into.

(please refer to the first picture again. I'm working with limitations here)

This isn't an attempt to kick them down as much to give them a reality check. Remember, for the entirety of their 3-4 rotations, VBS have been pacing in circles trying to figure out why they host an even after an event and basically achieve nothing. Moving forward, yes, but they still don't understand why the RW was the way it was, and Taiga wands to give them the answer, because they would never progress themselves without it.

Which is: a) Nagi's story 2) the skill difference between VBS and Radder. Caucasian Destination aside. Please suspend your disbelief for a moment. This is a shounen anime about rap. Still with me? Okay, moving on.

But why a battle?

Well, aside from him being a calloused old bastard who also likes to scratch his ego, because he knows that the harder VBS lose, the higher they rise.

Don't get me wrong, he's downright cruel to Kotarou and antagonistic towards the rest of them and talks a lot of shit, but all of it is to make VBS hit the ground harder and test their resolve.

Because losing and then getting back on top is how VBS thrive - their frustration from losing is what drives them to work harder. This is part of Vivid Street's battle culture, as well; they kind of weed out the "weak", depending on how the loser react, and good sportsmanship is encouraged - so trying to "get back at ya" after losing is entirely normal and a part of the culture Taiga and VBS both were practically raised in.

He's seen the way Akito behaved after battling Shephard, and he knows An well enough to know she's an extremely sore loser and will always push herself to work even harder. It's not hard for him to deduce the rest of the team will react similarly. He simply sees them losing, and losing in that way, as a necessity for them to realise their limits and find strength to move forward. And they do.

( ^ On your feet. Make no mistake, this is An's "I'm being a little shit right now" face. The "I'm about to rub your fur entirely the wrong way and enjoy it" expression if you will).

The entire 3rd episode was an - callous and assholey, yes - attempt by Taiga to rile VBS up enough so that they want to challenge him again, now with the whe context behind the story and what will it take of them. It was never, at least, not intentionally, attempt to stop them - Taiga is putting his whole trust in VBS as the only ones he respects enough to actually show the them the wall they're claiming to challenge, and he fully believes that when he does, they'll just come back stronger for it.

Which is why, as they call him out and threaten to go beyond his dream, to be even better than he is, he is smiling.

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

I think visual kei is the longest obsession I’ve ever had. It took me 11 years to finally be chill about it. xD I’ve reached a point that I don’t care much about the scene, never seeing them live, missing releases like...this year I’ve managed to slowly detach.

Ever since I was a little girl, my favorite musicians were my life. They gave me a voice, a purpose and a dream. I wasn’t a casual listener, I was the kind of girl who needed to see them as much as possible, listen to music like 6 hours a day, if not more, my walls were always full of pictures of them, I always talked about them...they were my life. And even after getting into visual kei, I didn’t drop any of my previous favorites, I just wasn’t as focused on them as before. With previous artists I felt my enthusiasm was fullfilling and healthy, an energy boost, an inspiration, a place where I felt understood. It was sth I loved, people I loved etc. (and if you are one of those who think you have to know sb very well to love them, get the fuck out of my blog, I know what I felt and if a person can hate sb at first sight, they can love at first sight too. Yes maybe what I loved was 90% illusion, but I believe 10% was actually real cause, no matter how much a person likes to appear perfect and always friendly etc, cracks will always be there). Anyway visual kei felt like more than that to the point I really thought it was destiny to actually work with them (cause I’ve always wanted to work with my favorite artists, I just switched from wanting to go to the USA to Japan after a while being a fan). And you know what, it was fun as long as it lasted. It took me out of the dark, pulled blades away from my wrists, it kept me sane, lead to writing 2 and a half books, it lead to finally getting my hands on photoshop and honestly becoming a better person. But yeah those things aside, I realized that the goal-part was another lie I built to feel I belonged. In reality, it was another lesson in life which, once I got it, it had to go.

I’m closing 30 and I have not much passion for art or music anymore. It was painful forcing myself understand my dreams were silly, but the peace I feel now makes me think I finally made it. I can now look at their photos of the past with nostalgia and not feeling like I failed, cause it was never for me in the first place. I kept seeing people travelling there and being able to see them and, some even got chances to work with them, so I wondered wtf I was doing wrong. It was eating me alive and I desperately wanted sth to work but well...it’s all gone now. ^^

Currently I don’t have any goals but I know some old stuff came back. As a child, besides trying every artform I could get my hands on while listening to music, I also played a lot of games. We had 3 drawers and 1 cupboard full of videogames at home and I feel like I am slowly getting back to that. I limit myself only to genshin now, for sure, but I watch more playthroughs again of games I don’t have and maybe soon I will try getting a console to try more stuff, who knows. I also started watching anime again, which I had stopped for a few years.

Oh well, regardless of what the future holds, I am thankful to all those people who dared chase their dreams and inspired me do the same, my lovely musicians, even if I eventually got nowhere, and I will keep listening to their songs from time to time. And posting their pics cause nostalgia. My only complaint is that I spent the past 10 years of my life being upset that I lived in a house that didn’t allow me have posters on my walls (fucking humidity and mold ye see) and now that I can and my room is healthier, I have nobody I want on my walls. xD I will fill it with Genshin and anime characters xD.

[albumwalloffame]

Let’s talk about The Shaggs

Yep, I’m talking about this album cover again, why? Because some information, that quite frankly I should have looked up before posting this album cover as part of the Album Cover Wall of Infamy 2021 Advent Calendar has recently come to my attention. So, let’s talk about this information and why it makes this cover so much worse.

So, the first question I should answer is, “Who actually were The Shaggs?” and beyond just “The band behind one of the most infamous albums in rock history”. The Shaggs were a rock band formed in New Hampshire, and was composed of three sisters, Dorothy, Betty and Helen Wiggin. Now, one might believe that, it being the sixties and these three being kids, they heard some records and wanted to make their own music, and admittedly I thought that too, because I was, and really still am, an idiot. These girls were literally forced into being a band by their father.

Their father was a man named Austin Wiggin Jr. and when he was young, his mother did some palm reading and predicted three things about Austin’s future, two of which came true, and the third was that his daughters would form a popular band. So, when the first two predictions came true, Austin tried to make the third come true, and how did he go about doing it? Getting his daughters interested in music by buying records? Letting them go to concerts? Nope, he literally pulled them out of school and bought them instruments and made them become a band.

Despite this literally being the worst way to form a band ever, it’s also noted that Austin never let his daughters go to any concerts, or even really have much of a social life. Helen even said that he was “Inappropriately intimate” with her once. So yes, these girls were essentially abused into becoming a band to fulfill a prophecy from a man’s dead mother.

So, my comment about “These girls look like they hoped their parents didn’t see them on a rock album cover”, is almost apt, but I can’t say it isn’t somewhat accurate. They look like they don’t want to be here, probably because the quite literally did not want to be here, it is a very “We’re here because Dad would kill us if we weren’t” vibes, and I do think he would literally kill them, nothing makes a musician legendary like death. Austin seemed like the kind of man who would go that extra mile. However, and I am trying not to say “Thankfully” here, Austin had a heart attack and died at the age of 47. After the family moved out and sold the place, the person they sold it to believed Austin’s ghost haunted the place and donated it to the Fremont Fire Department, who used it for a firefighting exercise.

As an aside, I genuinely did not think you could have a crazier story in music than The Beach Boys, the band that had ties to Charles Manson. However, this surpasses all of that.

So, that is the end of this band right? Their father died and they disbanded? Well guess what, in the early seventies, some guy actually played a few of their songs on a radio show, and that man would somehow go on to have a music career. You probably think, “Oh, he was probably just some nobody lo-fi noise jazz musician”, but no, this man became one of the biggest names in avant-garde and rock fusion, in fact he was actually present during the PMRC hearings alongside John Denver and Dee Snider, yeah, Frank Zappa was a fan of this band, and is probably a major reason for this band’s cult following. You know who else liked this album? Just a little punk kid from Washington you’ve probably never heard of, his name was Kurt Cobain. Yeah, The Shaggs are partially to thank for the big Grunge explosion of the 90s.

So, is this still one of the worst album covers in music history? Yes, again, it has the ickyness of parental abuse on it, they look uncomfortable because they probably are uncomfortable. They didn’t want to be musicians, but because their grandma predicted they’d be a popular band, their father tried to make them into a band. It is kind of funny though, he never did live to see the prediction come true, because they are something of a popular band in some circles.

I guess my comment wasn’t the only ironic thing about this band, eh?

[sleeplessnessthoughts]

So, to begin with, I wanna make it clear that I’m somewhat neutral on this topic, because I’m still a fan of both sides of this. :) I’m also a relatively new person to the fandom, so I cannot speak on anything that took place before late sept. 2022 when I started introducing myself to this community because I’m not well versed on it.

To begin this, I gotta go back all the way to face reveal and twitchcon time frame, the last time Dream and Quackity publicly interacted with each other on their own volition. It was already pretty obvious that after the event and the Drituation, Quackity started drifting away from Dteam, since their interactions literally became nonexistent, and while it is true that you do not have to always interact online to SHOW that you’re friends, it really speaks for itself when you answer everyone else’s tweets and comments except for a Select Group of People. Then after radio silence came the Quackity and Wilbur wine stream, in which George called Quackity and even Dream was mentioned, but even then, when we were all holding onto dtqk crumbs, Quackity literally showed No Interest on wanting to know what Wilbur was saying about Dream’s music video, people used that clip to show that “loudduo was still alive” but you can tell that he’s Not Interested. At All. Then when George called, Quackity was being distant, even as they joked around, went as far as to decline his call when Wilbur hung up on him. Although it Can be argued that the stream was mainly Quackity and Wilbur and they wanted things their way, not taking that away from them, just something to keep in mind.

VOD for the Wine Stream here.

Dream is mentioned at 2:34:30 and George called at 2:50:20

So, Quackity is distancing himself, although Dream didn’t interact with him as much, Sapnap and George did and got ignored, each and every time, and it was so obvious too. That goes on until the time of the Squidcraft Games in which Quackity DID interact with dtqk a lot more, but even then, it was an event with around 200 other streamers, to call that an interaction is kind of weak, especially when Quackity is a reserved person and does not air his personal Situations. Then when QSMP is announced, Dream shows his support privately and reveals that he also had a similar idea in the works, and whether it was the intention or not, it does look like he’s trying to deflect the attention from Quackity’s project, but at the same time, Dream gets demonized for almost everything he does, if he hadn’t cleared the air about that, he would’ve been called a copycat and everything under the sun, so I get why he did it.

Putting all of that aside, I feel like this all started snowballing when Dream posted that the USMP would be the first multilingual smp in the world and then Quackity posted the same thing for the QSMP, and now as more information and proof comes out that Quackity’s server IS the first multilingual SMP in the world (as he now has added Portuguese speakers) since he had been talking about and hinting his ideas as early as 2022 of my knowledge (I’m not taking into account when he told Wilbur he WANTED to do something to unite both communities he grew up in, only when he started asking people if they would be interested in joining his server) it’s more noticeable that absolutely no communication had been going on between these two for a While, and I also don’t think Dream did take the idea away because even when Quackity hinted the QSMP’s launch, nobody thought it would be that but rather, we all thought it’d be either merch or music, and I myself saw that. I don’t think it’s wrong of Dream to want to do a multilingual SMP either after seeing how well received the Squidcraft Games interactions were, but it just turned into a petty war of who was first, which at the end of the day, doesn’t fucking matter.

Then The Mod came out, and I apologize for forgetting the name but it was a shitshow and I’d rather not remember it. First of all, Quackity did not handle that shit correctly, he lacked an apology, empathy, and sincerity in his statement, saying “I’ve been told the mod is quite offensive so it will be getting removed” is not enough when people are being affected by it, because even if it was used before, even if no one had complained about it before, he’s the owner a server that promotes cultural union, and if a part of your community that practices a culture you’ve wrongfully represented says that they’re not comfortable with the depiction of a hostile mob that has been ridiculed by streamers in YOUR server, you LISTEN to them, because at the end of the day, your audience is your EVERYTHING. Period. Dttwt starts getting attacked and called sensitive and snowflakes over it, that’s when the harassment really starts, and let’s be honest, over the past few months, as Quackity got more popular, his stans just got worse and worse, they’re the most parasocial I’ve ever seen a fandom act, and I‘ve been in armytwt and dttwt. So dttwt gets harassed, and no response from Quackity at the racism that a good portion of his fans are implementing, whether at this point him and Dream have beef or not, your fans represent you, even if you don’t like controversies and drama, your fans attacking anyone and everyone they don’t agree with or think are less than them is very VERY harmful, and should be addressed. While it is true you cannot control a big fan base, and NOBODY, EVER, said that he was going to, addressing negative concerns about your fan base is ESSENTIAL, to show that you CARE about the well-being of those being harassed.

Honestly, it’s a blur after that, I’m pretty sure that what happened next was Dream posting snaps with dates that showed how he was also planning the USPM in early March, which was Very Intentional to show mainly drantis that he didn’t just pull it out of his ass, but it backfired more after streamers such as Wilbur, Philza, and others started promoting the “QSMP is the FIRST multilingual server in the world” and let’s be fucking for real, Quackity started it as a bilingual server, at the end of the day, the only two communities he grew up in was an hispanic and an american one, if he started promoting it as a multilingual server after its launch, then it’s completely different. Anyway, Wilbur and Philza knew EXACTLY what they were doing and how it was going to be perceived.

And that leads us to the fucking Tweets. I’m gonna be honest, Dream should’ve NEVER aired this shit out, at least not something so private and personal such as Quackity literally ghosting him and mutual friends. Not only because us as fans do not need to know, but also because something you should never do, especially as someone so big as him and that has been on the internet for a long time, is be vulnerable online. NEVER. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have addressed the doxxing and harassment situations, of course not, what I mean is: he shouldn’t have mentioned Quackity, at all. It was unnecessary and this I will give to some Q stans, it socially pressures Quackity to respond to him, which is very shitty in my personal opinion. He should’ve kept his tweets about the doxxing, about how his family’s been harassed and how the drama surrounding them is a dumb reason to start a fan war. That’s it. I know he meant well, because the tweet is very vulnerable (THATS THE FUCKING PROBLEM), but it just caused the drift between communities to deepen.

And also, Quackity did not address ANYTHING, but instead, streamed as if nothing is going on. I don’t wanna know his opinion on Dream, I don’t give a single FUCK, I wanted him to address the fact that due to the harassment his fans put others through people’s lives were endangered, not only Dream’s and his family’s (although it is not directly Q’s fault, the rampant hatred from his fandom did amplify the issue and caused him to get doxxed again, which is really fucking shitty and disgusting; not only that, I’ve seen people say that Dream BLAMED Quackity for it, which he did not do, and that it’s not a big deal because he’s been doxxed before, WHICH IS ALSO NOT OK) but also other stans from dttwt who were doxxed and even stalked outside of twitter and had to get involved with the authorities. Over Minecraft servers???? It’s fucking insane, and both of them are in the wrong; Quackity for not addressing it and acting as if everything is ok, and even PRAISING his fans, and Dream for airing out personal issues between Quackity and him that did not NEED to be public especially because Quackity IS a reserved person.

I still stan both Quackity and Dream, and I hope with the entirety of my soul for them to either work it out or fucking block each other already, I don’t care anymore. One more thing, majority of Q stans are fucking immature and parasocial as fuck, and a good part of dttwt as well, we’re all in the same fucking shithole anyways so.

This turned into a vent I’m sorry. ):

[arbitraryregistry]

Young Man, Old House

Prompt: Create a sense of that person’s individuality and why they are so fascinating.

This is what I came up with: A creative person, such as an artist or writer, who lives an unusual, somewhat mysterious life

A distinct smell that comes to mind is one of dried acrylic paint. Everything related to him has that quality to it. Somewhat dry-looking, suspiciously old but beautiful. Jordan is like a rose in a field full of sunflowers. You might not notice him, but he is there. An oddity unlike any other. A persona so out of place in the neighborhood, it is almost impossible to believe that aside from shop owners and a handful of teens, nobody knows him.

I was first aware of his presence in the world by pure accident. Amidst the great pile of fabrics, hauling materials that look as heavy as his body weight. It was admirable. I did not think much of it. Instead, I paid attention to my mom, who was choosing heavy-looking fabrics for our new curtains. That is until I saw that same messy cerulean curls on the front yard of a house at the end of my street a few days later.

In contrast to the bright young being standing in front of it, the house was in all shades of old. I stood there for who knows how long, staring at a man dressed in yellow shorts and a matching duckling-patterned apron, mixing paints while flinging his hands to what I assume is music coming from his headphones. After an embarrassingly long time, he looked up and saw me staring. That was my cue to run as fast as I can home, not even bothering to look back or remember my purpose of going out at that time.

It felt like I was intruding on something very private, even though he was out in the open. I have never felt such shyness coming from deep within me, it was intriguing. Over time I would see him around the neighborhood, always by himself. He reminded me of Nymphadora Tonks from The Harry Potter series, it seems like his hair changes color every time I see him.

One day he invited me to paint a shed behind his house. It was out of the blue, I was told to deliver a parcel for the holiday season when he offered me to “play with some paint”. From then on, I began to unravel this mystery of a man in graphic aprons. He was like other adults. He complained about work, traffic, and how all food delivery men seemed to think that his house is haunted and so he always picks up his food at the security post. Truthfully, I am also scared of the house. But we also talked about hobbies, how the school is different now and then, and about the food stalls around our neighborhood. It was nice, splashing bright colored paint onto a freshly painted white shed and talking about the mundane things in life.

I hung the faded purple apron Jordan gave me behind the door to my room. I bring them every time I come over to his front yard to do some kind of craft. He always has something going on, painting chairs and tables, fixing a cupboard, and repurposing all kinds of household items. Some of the neighborhood children would join us, but they would get easily bored and leave to play elsewhere.

There was a time when he berated me, but I did not feel any resentment toward him. It was surreal, for the first time in my life, I was out very late with my friends on a school night. He came out of nowhere and asked us why we are out and about. We were at a loss for words, we just wanted to be cool, hanging out at night. I was convinced, then and there, that he is a good person, he could have ignored us or said that it was okay but he made sure we know why going out at night is a bad idea and took us home.

I would later know that he was on a job to paint a mural that night and left for a while to ensure that all of us got home safely. From then on, I look up to this mysterious man with weird fashion choices.

[alltheselights]

It' SO annoying when Louis is the one who went to Nialls first solo tour to support but Niall doesn't care about that I really hope Louis stops showing any kind of support to Niall and Liam

Yeah, sorry, but I hope Louis never supports any of the boys publicly again. I can’t even be happy about Niall being at Harry’s show because I find it so sad that Louis, who has dealt with the largest obstacles in terms of going solo in the first place and has been consistently pushed aside by the media, by other celebrities, by his own team and label....that none of the boys are willing to publicly support him. (And no, going to TXF six years ago doesn’t count.)

Louis has praised Harry repeatedly. In contrast, Harry has said Louis’ name once since going solo during a joke on SNL. Harry has never said a positive thing or even so much as liked a post complimenting Louis or his music. Harry, who is by far the most famous of the bunch, could do so much for Louis by even just saying something nice about him, but he doesn’t.

Louis attended Niall’s tour. Niall was in London when Louis played in London, yet didn’t bother attending. He could show up to Harry’s show though!

Even Liam, who talks about Louis incessantly in interviews (to the point where Louis told him to stop), almost never says anything positive about his solo music or career. He talks about him overcoming personal problems and talks about how much of a leader he was in the band, but that’s about it.

Zayn, like Harry, won’t even follow Louis back on Instagram.

I love One Direction and I loved all the boys, but man, it is fucking hard to watch the way that Louis is treated and ignored and it is hard not to feel bitter about it. He has a heart of gold and has nothing but nice things to say about all of them and he has overcome SO much with his solo career, so the fact that nobody seems to want to lift a finger to support him in return hurts. It hurts to watch as a fan and as someone who can just see how unequal the treatment is. I’m sorry, but he deserves so much better from the other boys.

And I don’t care how much they support him in private. That’s nice if it’s happening, but when public support would mean so much to Louis and probably shut up some of the hatred for him from the other boys’ fanbases, the fact that they never do it is still unacceptable to me.

[elysianslove]

heaven on your lips; matsukawa smau

synopsis; he finds refuge in that no matter what, you will always come back to him. he finds refuge in that he’s the sole reason for your pleasure and happiness. whether that be from the sidelines, or from within the four walls of your home, in the confines of your bedroom. no matter what, you’re his, and he’s yours, even if neither of you seem to notice it.

pairings; matsukawa issei x fwb!reader

genre; fluff, smut, humor

warnings; cursing and inappropriate language. nsfw and suggestive themes.

note; i am so excited to post this holy crap. if there are grammar or spelling mistakes pls just ignore my brain is fried :( 

masterlist  |  previous , chapter eighteen , next

issei remembers the day the two of you had decided on your arrangement, clearly too. maybe it’s because, looking back now, it’s the first real clue on the consequences.

this had been maybe the third (or had it been fourth) time either of you you had woken up naked in each other’s beds, limbs tangled and muscles sore from their exhaustion. you’d been half asleep in his arms, eyes barely open, cheek pressed to his chest and arm slung across his torso. only minutes ago were you fixated on his phone’s screen, but after the night’s strenuous activities, and the warmth and comfort issei was radiating, so soothing, calming, safe, it was hard not to easily lose focus and fall into a deep slumber.

if he’d noticed, he wouldn’t have nudged you awake. but he hadn’t, so he’d lifted his shoulder, shaking you awake slightly as he locked his phone, tossing it across his bed. 

“why’d you wake me?” you’d sleepily asked, slowly lifting yourself up. a red splotch had appeared on your cheek and jaw, from having pressed against his skin for too long, and, unable to resist, he’d reached out and poked at it cheekily. he remembers you grabbing at his finger, rolling your eyes as you’d threatened to bite him.

as he’d watched you sat up, brushing your hair back and trying to smooth it over, he’d asked you. now, he realizes, it hadn’t been the right question. at the time, of course it was. he liked the way you fit against him so perfectly, the way nobody had ever felt as good as you, how responsive you were to him, the way everything felt so electric. it had been summer, the weather outside obvious on the way your skin glimmers from not just where you’d been beneath him. the summer after graduation, where uncertainty was at its highest. commitment was scary in every way, and so were big decisions. both of you already had the responsibility of your future on your shoulders. his suggestion had been perfect for your situation.

“do you wanna keep doing this?”

if only he’d had the courage to take it further. fate had spelled it out for him, handed it to him on a silver platter. you were his past, his present, and so obviously, his future. and yet, he’d hesitated. he’d faltered, stuttered, wavered, and then he’d had to watch you belong to another man for a night, and for however long it was meant to.

“that’s an— amazing idea,” you’d gasped. “why didn’t we think of that last time?”

he’d laughed lightly, welcoming you easily into his embrace as you’d leaned forward, hovering your lips above his as you had added, “or the time before that?” before kissing him lightly, crawling closer to him. “or the time before that?” you had repeated, kissing him again, sleep having completely worn off. he’d helped you onto his lap, your skin feeling so pretty and perfect against his large hands as he’d kneaded and massaged your waist and hips, pulling you even closer to him.

and now, as he locks his car, walking to your front door, he somehow feels you upon his lips.

the memory is frustrating, and he’s reminded awfully of the things he’d do to kiss you again. even if he hadn’t noticed and recognized it then, it had been nothing short of heaven. 

heels in your hand, a just freshly used lipstick tube in the other, you rush towards the door when the bell rings loud, praying that it’s not an unexpected guest and one of your boys instead

“coming!” you call out loudly, placing the lipstick aside and finally opening the door. at the sight of issei on the other side, you relax, sighing lightly.

“can’t say i haven’t seen you this relieved to see me before,” he teases, smirking familiarly down at you. even after ending it, he still manages to slip in a sex joke or two— you can’t say you blame him.

you roll your eyes, still managing to smile lightly as you step aside, allowing him to enter. his figure now properly illuminating, you’re able to fully take him in. it’s unsurprising that he looks good; issei’s always managed to effortlessly look put together, even in the most casual of clothes. but maybe it’s because he’s not in casual clothes that you feel a yearning for him you haven’t had since he’d been naked in your bed over a month back. he’s dressed in black on black, a button up and slacks. the button up’s sleeves are rolled up to his mid forearms, and on his wrist are two leather bands. but most importantly, on his fingers are a multitude of rings, silver and black, thick and thin, accentuating just how nice his hands really are.

“a blazer would’ve been too much, hm?” he interrupts your staring, cracking his knuckles lightly.

“like you own one,” you joke, smiling tauntingly as you lead the way to your living room.

laughing loudly, he follows you as you make your way to the couch, sitting down and placing your heels by your feet. but just as you’re about to grab at one of the heels, he beats you to it, lifting it up, before tapping at your knee. “let me,” he offers, outstretching a hand expectedly.

raising a brow, you observe him carefully. but because this is issei, it’s issei, you don’t think twice as you lift your leg over his lap, letting his hands brush against your ankle as he fits the heel on. “wow, ‘sei, didn’t think you’re down this bad,” you laugh, lifting your other leg up to let him put your other heel on. he rolls his eyes at your words, smiling softly. as he secures it, you lift a hand to his shoulder, adding, “thank you.”

“no, thank you, for flashing me,” he says, finger reaching out for your dress’s strap, hooking through it and lifting it over your shoulder. you hold back a shiver when his finger brushes against your skin. 

you spare a glance down, scoffing as you reply, “you’ve seen worse.”

“you mean better,” he corrects you, and you stifle a laugh, shaking your head as you fix yourself up, fumbling with your hair and dress and accessories. “what are you stressing so much about? you look gorgeous.”

your hands falter slightly at his words, and you smile softly at him, relaxing. “so you meant what you said?”

“when have i ever not?”

the doorbell rings again.

slowly, but surely, your home starts to fill with people. right after issei had been makki, iwaizumi, and oikawa, but not long after had the karasuno third years — and some past first and second years too, including a certain, lively, ginger boy — arrived. it’s a surprise seeing hinata slightly taller now, and he jokes that it won’t be long before he’s surpassing everyone in the room.

you spend the time between that and when the next people arrive catching up with everyone, learning what they’ve been up to. it’s a lot less awkward than you’d imagined, and you easily fall into comfortable talk, and  soon a lighthearted atmosphere builds.

when semi first sees you, he smiles, softly. he grabs at your hand and twirls you around, telling you that you look so pretty, dove. the nickname as always, makes your heart flutter in your chest, but just like the last time you’d been with him, it also aches. terribly so.

it’s eleven thirty when your home is properly flooded with people, half an hour away from midnight. someone had taken the liberty of dimming the lights slightly, and everyone had long since gotten comfortable. as you glance at the couch occupied by a couple making out — you’re barely able to identify their figures among the other people that crowd around them and the darkness that surrounds the couple — and at the drinks and foods scattered across the room, you realize just how much of a pain this’ll be to clean up.

thankfully, you have four extremely athletic boys as your backbone. it’s the only thing that keeps your mind at ease when you watch someone’s drink spill all over them and on the floor.

you’re pulled out of your thoughts, both literally and figuratively, when a familiar redhead grips at your wrist— a now bald redhead?

“tendō? oh my god, you shaved your hair!” you’re practically yelling over the loud music booming through the house — please, do not let the cops raid this party — eyes wide at the man before you.

he laughs loudly, eyes closing and head thrown back, before he rubs his hand over his hair, or what’s left of it. “ya like it, huh?” he asks loudly, beaming down at you.

you nod excitedly, gripping at his hands tightly. “i actually really do. suits you,” you chuckle.

he laughs again, replying with a heartfelt thank you, holding onto you just as eagerly as he adds, “come on, let’s dance, pretty girl.”

by the time the countdown is nearly about to start, you’d been roped into dancing with tendō and kuroo, whose friend bokuto had jumped in the middle of it all. makki’s easily drawn to vibes like these, so, unexpectedly, you’d found him by your side immediately. bursting with adrenaline and slightly overwhelmed, you’d pulled kiyoko and any other girls you had come across into the small dance circle you and the rest had created. unsurprisingly, kiyoko’s an incredible dancer. it’s freeing and intoxicating, the way you’re able to let loose, to be so carefree, inhibitions mostly lost. 

you’re breathless and sweaty as everyone eventually groups and pairs off aside, hair pulled up and out of your face to air yourself out slightly. the room is buzzing with excitement as the last minutes before midnight pass, drinks in hand and cheers prepared.

issei finds you exactly sixty seconds before midnight.

you’re walking in the opposite direction, but his hand latches onto your wrist, turning you around. when you spot and recognize him before you, you beam, walking closer to him.

“hey,” you greet him, smiling warmly. his expression only slightly mirrors yours, laced more with worry than you, and more than you’d ever seen on him, and when his hand leaves your wrist, it only finds your hand instead. but you don’t pull away at it. you let him test the waters, his hand shakily slipping into yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

near you, someone calls out the thirty second mark.

“i have to tell you something.”

he’s a lot closer now, his grip on your hand tightening, almost as if nervously, your confusion growing.

“right now?” you wonder, watching as he nods.

the twenty second mark is yelled out from someone that sounds an awful lot like oikawa.

“right now,” he replies. “it should have been a long time ago though.”

your brows furrow, and you cock your head slightly, stepping closer to him. “you can tell me anything,” you promise him, reassuring. you squeeze your hand in his, urging another smile on your face as his eyes meet yours. 

“anything?”

you nod encouragingly, almost feeling the time tick by. the room starts to feel smaller. 

“nobody could ever compare,” he starts, just as someone calls out the ten second mark. your eyes search for meaning in his, but you’re clueless. the countdown begins, from ten to nine to eight, and he continues, “nobody.”

“issei—“

“— four, three, two!—“

“i love you.”

“—HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

and then he kisses you.

end note; 🦋🦋🦋 enjoy this while it lasts loves <3 

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i’m sorry if tumblr won’t tag you :( let me know if you’re not getting notifications or i misspelt or missed your @! 

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

The hanged man was never a quiet place, really, largely because it was never empty. Sure, afternoons and evenings were the busiest times, but plenty lingered in their night of drinking until the wee hours of the morning. And once morning came around, folks started trickling in for breakfast and conversation once more. There were always people coming in and out, travelers, locals, all sorts of people who brought noise, conversation, music, it was part of why Varric liked living there.

It was also why Varric could tell something was off that night, because he could no longer hear the din of conversation from the pub below. 

It was late into the evening, usually, the number of patrons would have dwindled a bit by this point, but silence at this time of night, or at any time, was something Varric had never come across. 

Putting down his quill and reading glasses, Varric walked over to his doorway, peering down into the tavern. There were still people, a scant few at the bar, a couple posted up at various tables, but something was off. Even from there, he could feel a strange tension, an unease in the way everyone sat, in the hushed whispers and worried side-eyed glances.

Varric wasn’t certain what exactly drew him down the steps into the tavern.. It could have been anything, morbid curiosity, concern, perhaps simply the anticipation that this could be a story to tell. If it was curiosity, he didn’t have to wait long, as he saw what everyone was avoiding the second his feet touched the tavern floor.

Sitting alone at a table in the corner was a Dalish elf. That in of itself wasn't too uncommon, what was uncommon was everything else. Blue, gold, and silver robes with intricate embroidery, countless gold piercings, a cloak, and a headscarf made from fine brocade. Their vallaslin itself was gold, glittering against their dark brown skin in the torchlight, there was even gold thread even woven into the thick braid of theirs that was so long it pooled on the floor. 

Even that, though, likely wasn’t what put everyone off. What put them off, Varric had to assume, were the bones. Animal bones hanging from their belt, a deer skull on the table next to their leather bag, the bag’s straps beaded with vertebrae. Leaning on the wall next to them, a gnarled wooden staff, wood twisting around more vertebrae, branches with teeth hanging from golden thread, teeth that looked too human. 

What caught Varric’s eye, though, was the silver Grey Warden pendant hanging at their waist.

“You’re scaring people, there, Bones,” Varric chuckled as he approached their table.

He could almost feel a collective sigh of relief from the other patrons as he sat across from them. The elf, on the other hand, hardly reacted aside from slightly raising their eyebrows. 

“What can I say, it’s amusing,” They shrugged.

Varric couldn’t help his surprise at their accent, faintly Orlesian of all things.

“We don’t tend to see many Grey Wardens around here”

They laughed slightly, not even looking up from the papers on the table in front of them.

“I wouldn’t think people saw Grey Wardens much anywhere, now the Blight is over. Much less Kirkwall, the Blight didn’t reach this far north aside from some ghouls.”

“Well, I didn’t think the Blight spread west enough to bother Orlais, either,”

“Grey Wardens don’t care much about borders. I spent the early parts of the Blight in Ostagar as the Ferelden Warden commander’s left hand.”

“I suppose you would know a lot about darkspawn and the warden, then,”

They paused, finally looking over to him after a moment.

“We don’t have to do this,”

“What do you mean?”

“All of this,” They gestured vaguely, “Cut the sweet talk, you’re only talking to me because I’m a Warden and you want something from a Warden,”

“Come now, what makes you think that? I just thought I might talk to some traveler sitting all alone,”

“Nobody talks to me willingly, what gave you away is the fact that you’re speaking to me at all,”

“Well now, it’s not just that you’re a Warden, you’re quite the interesting character, a Dalish elf dressed like a nobility walking into a dingy lowtown tavern? There’s gotta be some story there.”

They were quiet now, seemingly ignoring Varric for a minute before they spoke again.

“Perhaps I’m nothing more than a story.”

With that, they stood in a flourish of fine fabrics. They limped out the door, a glint of metal visible under their skirt, the torches dimming around them as they passed.

Varric looked back at the table, and their mug still sat there, full, untouched, filled with an inky black liquid.

They returned the next night, around the same time, at the same table.

Varric wasn’t one for writing ghost stories, he never really saw the appeal. He preferred mystery, intrigue, drama, crime, a spooky specter floating around didn’t quite cut it.

Perhaps, though, Varric realized, that was because he only thought of ghosts as some apparition, a cheap scare. Maybe they could be more than that.

If Varric were to describe the Orlesian Warden, he would call them a ghost.

They weren’t malevolent, they didn’t torment any poor souls. But they showed up every night, bringing an unsettling aura and leaving silence in their wake. They sat alone at that table, with a drink they never touched. They would leave the tavern at the same time, whether Varric spoke to them or not. When he spoke to them their answers were vague or cryptic, but most of the time they were simply silent. Their voice was flat, face stoic, and impossible to read. 

There was something off about them, something that haunted every other patron in the Hanged Man.

One night, Anders stepped into the Hanged Man while the Warden was there. As soon as he noticed them, he had paled, frozen, like he had seen a ghost. He turned on his heel and left in a hurry.

“They have a lot of names, really,” Anders said, when Varric asked about them.

“So what’s their story?”

Anders was quiet for a while, looking off in the distance, “If you asked them, they would tell you they’re nothing more than a ghost story,”

Varric couldn’t help but find truth in their words.

“Varric, a letter,” The barkeep nodded at the counter.

The letter itself was a deep pine green in color, thick parchment folded neatly, stamped with an ornate white wax seal and dried flowers. Before Varric could reach for it, though, the barkeep spoke again.

“Not for you, though,”

Turning the letter over, Varric read the address. The Elf in the Corner, written ornately in white ink. There was no name, no return address.

“They’re already spooking my patrons,” the barkeep continued, “I don’t want more spooky characters and dealings scaring off any more customers. You tell them that!”

“Right, no more spooky characters and dealings are off, only shady characters and dealings,”

“They’re scaring everyone half to death!”

“No, no, I hear you, I’ll let them know, no problem,” Varric said, waving his hand dismissively as he took the letter and started towards his room, “No more spooky business, I’m sure they’ll listen.”

For the rest of the evening, the letter sat on Varric’s desk. There was no way he could find the Warden himself, he didn’t know their name, Anders wasn’t keen on talking about them. Varric wasn’t even sure where they disappeared to when they weren’t at the Hanged Man. He had asked around a couple times, as to whether anyone had seen a Dalish Warden, an Elven mage dressed in fine robes, an unusual Orlesian character. People would mention the Warden who ran a clinic in Darktown, the friendly Dalish mage in the Alienage, the tattooed elf living in Hightown, but never the person Varric was looking for. 

They might as well be a ghost, an apparition that only appeared briefly in the dead of night.

At a quarter past two in the morning, like clockwork, a silence fell over the tavern below. Putting down his work, he grabbed the letter and descended into the tavern area. 

They were in the corner again, still as a statue, staring off into the distance, mug untouched in front of them. As Varric approached, they didn’t react, didn’t even raise an eyebrow as Varric sat at the table. Pulling out the letter, he was about to speak, but before he did their hand snatched out to grab the letter. Varric was nearly startled, he had never seen them move so quickly, and as he watched them open it, he saw their usually inexpressive face soften, their whole body change. For the first time, they seemed just like a person, eyes warm, a faint smile visible behind their hand as the read the letter.

Learning over slightly, Varric could make out the first line.

My love,

And suddenly the story shifts in Varric’s mind, away from horror, from ghosts, hauntings, and instead to one of love. No longer was the Warden before him a ghostly apparition haunting a tavern, but a traveling, lovesick knight waiting anxiously for letters from their love, desperate to send back tales from their travels and their affection--

“Thank you,”

The Warden had folded the letter closed once again, straightened their posture.

“Oh, no problem, I mean I figured you might happen to be the Elf in the Corner it was addressed to, “ Varric smiled as they scoffed, “Be sure to give them my regards--”

“I won’t.”

Varric paused. 

“The Templars would kill them if I ever went home again,” Their voice was flat, face stony and emotionless, at odds with the words they spoke, “Their letters are the closest I get to being with them. I appreciate you delivering it.”

They began carefully folding the letter, gathering their things.

“So, what are you going to do now? There’s not much Grey Warden business in Kirkwall, and I imagine you could spend your days writing love letters and lurking in shady taverns before Templars take notice.”

“I can’t write, but I am good at keeping out of the Templars' sights. As it stands, though, I do indeed have Grey Warden business here,” They paused for a moment, head tilted slightly as they looked into the distance, “It’s not something I plan on completing, though. Do give Anders my regards,”

They stood with practiced grace, their staff suddenly finding itself in their hand.

“I never got your name,”

The Warden froze, their robes swaying around them gently as if being pushed by a breeze, silk and embroidery glimmering, vallaslin glittering in the low torch light. 

“When is one deserving of a name? Where does story stop and personhood begin, does such a line even exist? Are some things too blurred and ephemeral to have a name? What people know me as is a story, not a person. even in their stories they don’t give me a name. Is it out of reverence? Fear? or is it the careful and deliberate erasure of my personhood, an abstraction that allows room for cruelty? In my lives I’ve been called a great many things, I’ve been given a great many names,” They paused for a moment, “For you, I shall leave you with a name of my choosing: N’Abjidynen Za’arslu,”

As soon as they spoke their name, all the torches flickered, the tavern going dark for a split second. When the lights returned, they were gone as if they had never been there. The only evidence of their existence, the mug left on their table, filled with the same, strange inky black liquid. As Varric watched, something white broke the surface. A single, bleached animal bone.

When Varric thought about it, there wasn’t a difference between a love story and a ghost story.

[myreygn]

random hcs for parker’s ocs

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @knizmokat, i hope you have the most amazing day, ilysm!!

i really hope you like these because trust me when i say random i mean random, but i tried my best for you! <3

(also it’s almost 3am here so if my brain isn’t fully fried it’s your birthday already, I AM POSTING THIS NOW)

.....

SASHA

unable to draw anything aside from stick figures and even those are ugly af

his art teacher insisted that everyone can draw until she saw sasha’s work

when the rest of the class gets a new assignment, she allows him to write an analysis over a painting of his choice instead and sasha is more than fine with that

almost always has his hair in a pony tail but unable to do a bun

asahi tried to teach him for 30 minutes and almost cried because it just kept felling apart for no apparent reason

picks the most terrifying stuff you could think of for movie night

managed to scare suga with one of his horror movie picks and has been banned from choosing anything other than u-rated movies ever since

physically unable to sleep without his kirby plushie

a gymnastically talented little mf, can do cartwheels and splits and walk on his hands like it’s nbd

once made a front flip over his hands during practice, scoring a point for his team by hitting the ball over the net with his feet

the absolute proudest moment of his life and he’s still mad that no one has it on video

RYUZAKI

unfazed by tragic movies but fucking bawled his eyes out over encanto (you know why parker)

has all of his fineliners sorted by color and will never ever let noya borrow them in class after doing it once and almost getting a stroke from the sheer chaos that ensued

a little control freak in general

all of his stuff has a designated place and if it’s not where it’s supposed to be he’ll die

open to all kinds of music but an absolute elitist when it comes to “the big ones”

do not talk to him about the history of rock and metal unless you’ve memorized every dio song in existence

also has zero tolerance for any so called disrespect towards his greatest musical inspirations

blocked tanaka for saying “poison? the rita ora song?” and only unblocked him after daichi scolded him for being an idiot

cannot handle horror at all

can and will sucker punch noya for giving him a scare in a devil mask out of reflex

halloween is the bane of his existence

KOGANEI

an absolute athletic multi talent

there’s no sport in existence this man can’t do

show him how to swing a baseball bat and he says “oh like this?” and scores a homerun

he’s also a theatre kid but only the dancey stuff so newsies is right up his alley

can do the entire choreography for king of new york and also hit the high note in santa fe

sails through all his classes as we’ve already established and once sang the build up from before the breakdown from we are the tigers under his breath, making akaashi cry

“‘cause you’re the score you got on sats...” - “YOU GOT A FUCKING 110 I’M BEGGING YOU TO SHUT THE HELL UP”

can do a perfect impression of kermit the frog and it’s a hit at parties

an adrenaline junkie at amusement parks (same tho he has good taste)

it cannot be high, fast or dangerous enough

“there’s no such thing as too many loopings!”

laughs at dad jokes

KUROSAKI

quotes old movies like it’s nobody’s business

once muttered “see how love flies out the door” at the sight of yamamoto and lev fighting for the last piece of roast beef and got absolutely ecstatic when kuroo turned around and went “did you just make a cabaret reference”

literally don’t ask him if he’s seen any movie made after the 90s. he hasn’t.

knows a shit ton of stuff about astrology

knew everyone’s sun and moon sign by their personalities alone

“wow so you believe in that?!” “nah”

can nap everywhere and it’s a gift until one day he falls asleep during a practice match and gets one of bokuto’s spikes in the face

he’s in the hospital for two days but he claims it was worth it

also a theatre kid but only for the classics

thinks west side story is an unmatched masterpiece and will not listen to anyone who has a different opinion

lactose intolerant but cheese is too good

KEITA

really into scrapbooking

has tons of scrapbooks for all kinds of stuff he likes

made one for each third year about their time on the team together and gives it to them at the end of the year (they all cry)

has the most beautiful handwriting known to man

he once gave goshiki his notes for studying and goshiki thought he had used some super fancy font on microsoft word

will not leave the house without nail polish on and always has a spare bottle with him

would rather die than admit it but he loves ghibli movies

the tale of the princess kaguya is his favorite (BECAUSE HE HAS TASTE) and he has very strong opinions about ponyo

like. way too strong opinions, considering that it’s ponyo.

it makes him cry

refuses to participate in tendou’s whistling contests and claims it’s stupid but actually just can’t whistle and is too ashamed to admit it

snorts when he laughs too hard which absolutely infuriates him

DAISUKE

this man can fucking BAKE

brings a bunch of cupcakes to practice to surprise iwaizumi on his birthday and everyone is floored

they look like pinterest photos fr

creates his own recipes and sometimes posts them online, they all have at least 4.8 stars

people always assume he’s all bark no bite but he’ll try to fuck you up if you’re mean to his friends (only he’s allowed to be!!)

got into a fight over some jackasses making fun of watari and lost because it was five against one so kyoutani saved him and soaked all of them

no regrets

participates in a poetry slam when he loses a bet against matsuhana and reads one of his raps as if it was a simple poem

comes in first place, rubs their noses into it for weeks

oikawa tried to get him into musicals but he only likes hamilton because of the rap in it and oikawa is not amused

scribbles little comics all over his notes and it kills his teachers (which is part of the reason why he does it)

[1d-discourseoftheday]

Thurs 7 Jan ‘21

Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3!!! Firstly Zayn posted a teaser of a red curtain, labeled 'tomorrow', beginning to rise with a snippet of a song-- it's Vibez! Vibez is HERE! NEW ZAYN MUSIC! And hell yeah that's super exciting (and the curtain is reminiscent of the filming at the theater last month I'm hopeful we're about to get that video) but THAT'S not the half of it-- Z3 listings are UP! 'Nobody is Listening' (friend we are ABOUT TO BE and I CANNOT WAIT) is out Jan 15 and has 11 songs (titles unrevealed with the exception of Better, already released, and Vibez). The cover art is a painting of a bright colorful sea of staring faces; everybody looking, nobody listening? Spotify also has Vibez cover art- a cool blocky noir looking painting- and a new photo of Zayn smouldering in a tank top. Happy almost Zayn's birthday to US, and thank you very much!

Liam did a long live today with an also long BEARD (oh shush on his FACE you guys) to talk about Saturday's show, but then he ends up talking to Ben Winston for most of it which is, as you can imagine, a mixed blessing. I mean all that 1D reminiscing is great for dredging up unknown tidbits for us but otoh Ben: the part where Liam puts manager Steve on to say hi to Ben and it's just the two of them is the worst content I've seen in a minute and I mean... Holivia is current..? ANYWAY, before Ben, Liam has his cousin Ross on and tells us Ross will also have cousin Luke playing drums for him at the show Sat, and snippets of all the openers' music are played. They discuss accents, and Liam, as usual, says that he was just on the phone to Louis (relatable I too immediately think of Louis when discussing strong British accents). And then the Ben chat: they talk about the We Are 1D Family fan project at San Siro and how the band didn't know it was going to happen, Liam talks about not wanting to do the Leroy piece for the BSE video (“haha remember I had a meltdown but you made me do it!”:/), and they talk about the two Midnight Memories videos-- we learn that Ben didn't have anything to do with the scrapped first one so he can't release it sorry, and “you guys didn't like it so we had to make a new one in like a week”. Liam: “no I preferred the first one!”, lol. Ben talks shit about not liking You and I (no wonder he did her so dirty), Liam: “WHAT??” and “didn’t Zayn’s high note turn you on a little bit? It had to!” sksksjfa okay calm down there, and then he turns me into the 'had me in the first half' meme when he says his least favorite 1D song is I Would! CAN YOU BELIEVE. He quickly realizes though that no! He means I WANT! Yeah okay that makes more sense but jeez Liam, don't mess with me like that! He also says (not about I Would or I Want), “when I was younger I didn't really understand the songs as much as I understand them now, they mean so much more to me later on in life than they ever have done before, the feeling, the emotions that come through, the lyric as well for some of them.” Oh and Ben mentions the Grammy awards being pushed to March 14 which btw I forgot to say yesterday so there ya go. New date. And last but not least, new LP Act 4 merch! RAINBOW HOODIE! Omg it's so good! The rest is great too but that rainbow hoodie (uh 'hoody' that is hmm why) is soooo nice.

9 am PST came and went without a single Holivia pap pic, but don't worry (darlings) they were just a little late today, though you'll be excused if you didn't realize there were new ones, as they are simply more of the same batch as yesterday's- it was a very exciting parking lot after all, they needed a lot of documentation! Harry grabbing Olivia's arm SO AWKWARDLY is a gem though, I'm starting to have doubts that they're even really friends now that I'm seeing them interact so much tbh. I think the press time excitement was supposed to be the 'candid' pics of them drinking coffee together with Harry in the spa robe (taken... maybe you can guess... YES! it was over the weekend!) but aside from being memed they didn't seem to get much traction. Even so, the press is still all over Holivia ofc and if you only read one article about it PLEASE make it the Harper's Bazaar one that marveled at today's pics “Wilde happened to be wearing the same outfit from last weekend” oh SO CLOSE YOU GUYS, defensively states that Harry was wearing a mask (in response to the many articles out there about people being mad at him for not wearing a mask which yes are very much still up and not being suppressed by HSHQ, btw) but some enterprising layout person placed a picture of him without a mask right under that line, and tells us twice in a row that their relationship is 'very organic'-- definitely 100% truly oBvIOusLy ORGANIC, 'a source' says so. So you can see that clearly it's all very organic. In case you were wondering! STRONG honorable press mention for Vogue though, who declared that Holivia were “already 2021's most stylish pair” with a picture of Harry in his paint splattered merch hoodie and pushed up sweats; but then they also said the other day that larries were people “who ship Harry with Liam Payne”...hey Vogue I really recommend getting an intern if you're struggling, so helpful!

[fa-by]

Hello babies and dear Anons 👋🏼🤗 I'm back with a new ‘Q&A’ post. Sorry, it took me longer than usual. I'll explain to you at the end of the post. For now, enjoy 🙃

I've already talked about it here, dear Anon, https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648194553804881920/%C9%9F (first question) and then here https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648194746313031680/%C9%9F (fifth question).

And who said I think Camila is a lesbian, dear? 😏 Maybe you mistaken me for some other blog? Because, I've never said that, dear. I've never been asked about it 🤷🏻‍♀️

You must be new to my blog if you're asking me this question, dear Anon. Welcome 🤗 and my answer is no, dear. Neither of them has ever cheated on the other. They're both way too loyal for that shit.

No, dear Anon. And always keep in mind that this is just my opinion and that therefore I could be wrong.

Hello to you too, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 First of all, thank you 🥺🥰 Thank you very much for your words, dear, you're super nice and I really appreciated it very much 🤗

As for stuck, we didn't fight or anything like that. I guess we just drifted apart 🤷🏻‍♀‍ even before she entered the Marvel world, but I can't tell you why she never liked and re-blogged my posts, dear 🤷🏻‍♀️

Let's call it my flaw if you want, but I don't like any posts myself (not even my girlfriend's), but that doesn't mean I don't like many posts I see. It's just the way I am 😅 I leave comments every now and then though 😅 And neither does it mean I wouldn't like to interact with you guys if you ever want to contact me or tag me or get me involved in something. It may not seem like it maybe because I don't re-blog and put likes around, but trust me, it's not like that.

Going back to stuck, I really can't tell you why. I mean, I'm not her so I can't answer you. Maybe you should ask her directly, dear. @stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland​

I hope you have a very nice day too, dear Anon. Thank you so much again, and please, be sure to take care of yourself too 😘

Hello to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and don't thank me, dear 🙈 It's really a pleasure for me to interact with you guys and help you in any way I can 😊

So. Yeah, I think what you think, dear. Mila was definitely the one to make the first move, but as far as putting aside pride and the decision to give it another try, it was something they both did because they each had their own reasons. Remember, dear, there are two people in a couple.

Hey dear sneaky little one 👋🏼😄 I'm good. How are you? It's a pleasure, dear, you don't have to thank me for that 😊

I'm not sharing them with you guys yet just because they're personal observations that not everyone can agree on and, as you may have noticed, I like to tell you guys what I think with real facts that I can prove. In this case, it would be like in this picture:

I hope that with this example you understand better what I mean, dear sneaky little one. Come back any time you want and take care of yourself too 🤗😘

Hey dear Anon, why are you so down? 😟 Don't be 🤗 I know it's hard to think positively about them, but think about everything we've endured so far. Think about how strong we are. Whatever's thrown at us, it won't change our minds because we know the truth. Now, come on, dear, smile 😁 Enjoy the small wins instead of having them ruined for you by the possible eventuality of them doing something. And remember, we're in this together 💪🏼

I swear to you that when I saw it, I was like 📢🔊 Your loving takes me higher 🎵 You set my heart on fire🎵 When you touch my body got me singing like Mariah!!!! 🎵🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Hello to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄

1) No, dear, you can't force something on someone who agreed to do things like this in the first place. I'll explain better. PRs are accepted by those directly involved, who then sign a contract. It's a commitment they're bound to respect from the moment they have accepted and signed the contract. If they don't respect it, they then have to pay the consequences (if you’re interested, I wrote a post about how PR relationships work here: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648193061847023616/pr-stunt-relationships-%C9%9F). I'll give you a silly example. Think of it as when one day you didn't want to go to school but you had to go anyway. It's pretty much the same dynamic because even if you didn't want to go that day, or several days, you knew you had to and you did. I hope it went well as an example 😆

2) Yes, but which of the two teams, well, that depends, dear. It depends on who's reaching whom and where. It depends on whether they're traveling together or not. And it depends on the purpose of that particular stunt, like if is some particular event or not.

3) No, dear, absolutely not, don't worry 🤣 Everyone has their own room. The rooms are very likely to be close together though, or at least on the same floor, that's for sure.

4) Yes, when possible, of course. The more people see the couple doing everything together, the more believable they seem.

Don't thank me, dear, it's really a pleasure 😊 Have a good day too ❤️

Not necessarily, dear Anon. Mila started work on her third album during the pandemic in her studio, so no one had to pay for her. Besides, when a contract expires and there's a re-sign, it doesn’t necessarily mean that an announcement will be made about it since the record label is still the same. Announcements are made if there's some kind of important addition, such as for example happened with 5H when they had to re-sign as a quartet for legal reasons with Syco/Epic, and it was only announced because of the addition of a contract with Sony Music as the sponsor for their last album.

Having said that: 1) Since her movie has been postponed again, I would say in 2022. 2) I really hope not because they would be really stupid to do it again. Plus, I don't think the PR will last until the released of her album. 3) I have to admit you made me giggle here, but no, dear 😂 don't worry. Producers, composers, songwriters, etc., work with a lot of different artists who have different styles. Mila’s nothing like Chimp, and she can’t do anything boring. It isn't in her blood. No pun intended at all there 😏🤣

Hi to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 and you got it right, buddy! We think the same way!

They had gotten to a really bad point in their relationship. A point where they were no longer themselves, either in the couple or individually. For me, what happens in the Havana music video is what happened in reality as well. It was obviously told in an artistic and funny way there. Like the scene of Juan literally ‘coming out of the closet for her’ because he thought it was the best thing for their relationship. In that scene, he gets down on his knees to ask her to marry him, but in reality, at least for me, it represents December. It represents the ‘begging’ in a disguised and artistic soap opera way. It represents Lauren's last attempt to make things work between them. Which is related to the “You love me”, “I do love you. But I love me more” scene in which Camila leaves everything behind. And if you think about it, we can also find this connection somewhere else: 🎶 “Nobody talks about walking away when there's still love” 🎶. Always Love by Laur. Luckily, at the end of the video, she really is ‘took back to her Havana’ as it also happened in reality.

It's all connected, dear. There's a connection and an explanation for everything they do artistically. Just pay attention and you'll be able to connect the dots like you did in this case too. Give me a virtual high-five! 🖐🏼 And have a good day too, dear Anon ❤️

Hello to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Thank you very much, dear, and don't worry, I've been never asked that. So. Before answering your questions, let's take a look at the facts, okay? Especially for the baby Camren shippers.

Leilani is Dinah's aunt by marriage. She has always interacted with fans and we saw her in several videos even with Dinah herself, but the first time she showed herself to us as problematic was on July 18, 2016. Leilani tweeted an attack on Taylor Swift and apologized the next day by saying of having been hacked:

Yeah, suuure, because hackers around the world were waiting for nothing but hacking her 🙄 But let's move on. September 8, 2016, was the day Laur cried several times during the concert in Phoenix, Arizona. The next day, on the 9th, before the concert in Irvine, California, Laur tweeted to thank the concerned fans, and Leilani replied to the tweet by exposing L because of the ‘her’:

On December 21st, 2016, she did a live where she talked about Camren after fans asked her about it: https://va.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_qvandqF63c1ykfr3q.mp4  (I also put the sub in the video myself)

On January 8, 2017, she posted two Snapchat stories in which she spoke again about Camren with one of her nieces: https://va.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_qval74yFz61ykfr3q.mp4 

On January 29, 2017, both Camila and Lauren blocked her on social media:

She continued to strike by attacking Camila months later. On July 13, 2017, the same day the 5H interview with Billboard came out, Leilani attacked her by basically calling her a whore. Tweet to which C replied with suspense dots and a Rihanna GIF:

On December 5, 2017, Camila posted the album cover and title by saying that the pre-order would've been possible from the 7th. Because of the album cover picture, Leilani attacked with the first tweet on December 5th, and continued on the 6th:

Then nothing else problematic.

Yes, of course she knew about Camren. All the people close to them know about Camren. Leilani has always been a person who likes attention. She has always liked to show off and be noisy and messy in doing so. It didn't matter how ridiculous she was or that her actions fell upon her niece. The fact that she seemed to be joking and that she was always so evasive and confusing on the subject, is because she herself knew she was going to pay the consequences. She could never have said “yes, they're real” and stick to it. Also because the one who would've paid the most consequences would've been Dinah. You know, being her aunt, it was like her responsibility. And I think D really paid the consequences for something she didn't do. At least, before the sharks took the reins and told her what to do (Leilani through Dinah). It’s happened to a lot of people close to them to get involved over the years. It has been noticed a lot more from 2015 onwards, but especially in 2017 to increase the story of the fake feud between the girls.

So basically, yeah, she was problematic and loud and messy and all of that, but for the most part, she was just following the script.

Hi to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 welcome and thank you very much 🙃 My answer to your question is yes, they've been for a long time by then. You'll find more details on all of that dynamic below in the next ask, dear.

Kinda? 🤣 Okay, let me explain, dear Anon. There was no cheating if this is what you thought with my first answer. But let's go in order. I'll shed some light on the story with Luis once and for all.

Luis Santos' first appearance for us was on January 13, 2013 when Laur posted this picture on IG:

One year later exactly, on January 13, 2014, L posted this picture:

Then we have the one on February 24th (when the girls arrived in Miami because they had three dates in Florida for The Neon Lights Tour) and those of February 25th, 2014 after the concert (posted the day after):

We have the one of April 13, 2014:

The prom ones of May 17, 2014, which were the last pictures with Luis that Laur posted:

And lastly, we have Laur’s birthday one posted by Luis:

The latter lets us understand that their story officially began on January 27, 2014. We don't know when it ended exactly (let's suppose at the beginning of July) because we only had confirmation of it in August thanks to the explanation that Clara gave for that fake scandal:

Now. This is the official story. The one we should’ve bought. But let me show you the behind the scenes. This is Melanie Mueller, Luis's ex:

Luis was in a relationship with Melanie from early August (unfortunately, Luis and Melanie's profiles are all private, but not Melanie's old Twitter) until, according to the narrative, late November 2013:

And this is where the juicy stuff begins. Luis stated that he and Mel were no longer together:

The date coincidentally matches the beginning of his relationship with Lauren on January 27, 2014, right? Right. So how do you explain the fact that Luis and Mel were on a romantic date exactly 13 days after he said they weren't together anymore?

As you can see from the date, it was February, and weren't Lauren and Luis already together since January 27th? 😏 The funny thing is that they kept interacting and taking pictures together:

And then there's the best part. The Camren shippers went wild that year in replacing Luis's face with Camila's twice. The first one with the prom picture 🤣:

And the second one with April picture. Sorry, I really tried but I couldn't find the original manip. But don't worry, I have two better things 😏:

Ohh, I think we know, Mel 😎

And how can we forget one of the many things that remained in the fandom's history and which coincidentally happened just in February a week before the picture of Luis and Melanie's romantic date:

Now that I've given you proofs, it's theory time. We know about the friendship with benefits, the Like Friends Do situation that Camren had, and we know that Lauren was in denial. Luis was a shield. Her shield, especially for the public. It wasn't a PR created by the labels, but by Lauren herself. Laur and Luis were friends, and I mean, they still have been for years. Laur simply asked him for a favor and he accepted. Laur stayed in Miami throughout the Christmas period until the first week of January 2014 before flying to L.A. with the girls. It was then, in that time spent at home that she asked him, and despite knowing the risks, despite knowing he would face fans' hatred, and despite having a girlfriend, Luis agreed to be the fake boyfriend just to help his friend in need. I don't think she told him the real reason behind it right away, but she definitely told him once she and Mila finally got together. Laur came out to her family in early 2015, but it doen't mean she didn't to her friends before. Especially once she and Mila became official in April 2014.

So, dear Anon, yes, in a way, Lauren was with Camila and Luis, but in reality, she was never with Luis.

Hi to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄 Thank you very much, dear, and that's okay. I don't mind helping when and if I can. It's not a problem at all for me 😊

So, as far as Lolo's situation is concerned, I honestly think Columbia has very little to do with her situation. I mean, Columbia is the biggest record label under Sony Music and has always had a lot of successful artists. From the great names that have made history to the most recent but still famous ones: Michael Jackson, Freddie Mercury, Aretha Franklin, Frank Sinatra, David Bowie, Bob Dylan, Celine Dion, Paul McCartney, Mariah Carey, Beyoncé, Jay Z, Adele, Alicia Keys, Ricky Martin, Pharrell Williams, Robbie Williams, Katy Perry, Shakira, Snoop Dogg, 50 Cent, Diplo, OneRepublic (Ryan Tedder), Miley Cyrus, Harry Styles, Zain Malik, Little Mix, Calvin Harris, BTS, Lil Nas X, Meghan Trainor, etc., etc., etc. Believe me, there are really, but really many names that I haven't put in this list.

The purpose of a record label is to make money. To do that, the label finds an artist. The label decides if it's worthwhile for them to sign the artist by investing and advancing the money on them, and if the label believes they can make money with their music, then they don't think twice before signing them. So they invest in the artist, develop them, promote them through the artist's team, and distributes their music in exchange for a percentage of the revenues. If things go smoothly and well, there's a gain, but if things go wrong, the label loses money. [If you want to know more about how the music world works and what the girls had to go through, I wrote a post about it here: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/648192055443619840/how-the-music-world-works]

Now, what did I mean by that? As I said before, Columbia is the number one, the biggest and most important umbrella music label under Sony Music Entertainment. So why on earth would a label as big as Columbia Records have signed Lauren and invested in her, but then thwart her and lose a lot of the money they invested themselves? It wouldn't make any sense because it would be like self sabotaging themselves! And what did I say is the purpose of a record label? To make money. Don't be fooled by anyone about it, dear.

I could have understood if this had been an isolated case; if Laur had been the only one among the girls (LAND) who hadn't released an album. But it's not like that. Something, and I'm 100% convinced it's something from their old contracts, has held all four of them up until now. We'll see, dear Anon. Sooner or later, the truth will come out because it always does. Even if it takes years.

Don't apologize, dear, really 😊 Hope things are great with you too and please, take care of yourself too 🤗

Hey to you, dear Anon 👋🏼😄

Nada is a song that is part of Tainy's EP called Neon16 Tape: The Kids That Grew Up on Reggaeton, and it's about how two people in an unofficial relationship want completely different things. The guy doesn't want anything serious unlike the girl.

Now. I understand why you're confused, dear. After reading the lyrics and thinking about Camren, you've surely wondered “Where the fuck is Camila in all of this? But does it have something to do with her, or not?”. Well the answer is no. You see, dear, we're used to hearing a lot more Mila's songs than Laur's. When Mila writes, she writes for herself. She writes from her point of view and according to her experiences. Same thing Laur does. But Mila, unlike Laur, can't write a song for other people. She can't detach herself from them when she's writing them. Take as examples all those songs she gave away after finishing them, like Anyone or Ain't Easy. When you listen to them, you can clearly hear Camila all over it even if the song is being sung by someone else, like in these two examples, Justin Bieber and Elijah Woods. But with Laur? Nah, because Lauren can completely detach herself from them.

Take More Than That as an example. Laur didn't write More Than That for herself; she just ‘decided’ to keep it (because it was okay for the narrative she had going on at the time). If she had really given it to someone else and then you had listened to it and knew she was the one who had written it, you would've thought “Really?” with a wtf expression as the first thing. Right? Because you recognize Laur in the song only because you know she's behind it. Am I wrong? And don't get me wrong, dear, this is not by all means a bad thing at all. I'm not saying this as an insult or anything. Quite the opposite actually. I think it's absolutely amazing. Think about it. It's basically the work of songwriters and ghostwriters who only work behind the scenes for other artists. Gosh, they're both so fucking talented 😍

Anyway. What was I getting at with this? To the fact that the same thing happened here with Nada. Nada was written by four songwriters and we have two different points of view to represent the couple in the story. The one of the girls, Laur and Cris Chil (she also worked and wrote with her for Lento), and the one of the boys, C. Tangana and Tainy (like Cris, he wrote with her and produced Lento). Now. I can't tell you who the real protagonist behind the story of the song is because none of them said it, but it's definitely not Lauren. Laur just went with the flow.

Before starting, I would like to also publicly thank my girl @romanticentropy​ for helping me with the translation (her first language is Spanish), so thank you again, my love 🥰 And I'm not talking about the literal translation. I'm talking about the real meaning behind it since the meaning of many sentences or words can change even based on a simple comma. Therefore, here below you'll find the real translation along with notes placed in parentheses with various explanations. I don't know if you speak Spanish, dear Anon, but we did this for all those people here who don't speak it so that everyone can understand the true meaning of the song.

That said, let's get started.

Verse 1:

“Como te arrimes sí te voy a dar

If you dare come close, I’ll give you [implied: my dick]

Me he puesto guapo pa' verte pasar (Yeah)

I got myself all dressed up to watch you go by (Yeah)

No me pregunte', no quiero pensar

Don't ask me, I don't want to think

No tengo tiempo, no me pue'o casar

I don't have time, I can't get married

Pero, puedo quererte de nuevo

But, I can love you again

Dejar todo el resto pa' luego

[implied because the two sentences go together: And] leave everything else for later

Quedarme pa' ti, que más quieres de mí

To stay for you, what else do you want from me

No odies al jugador odia al juego

Don't hate the player, hate the game

Yo no me he inventado na' (Qué va)

I didn't make anything up (Not at all / Of course not) [‘Qué va’ is an expression, particularly from Spain, that means something like ‘How could you have thought that? Of course not’ said in a casual tone. So, ‘not at all’ is a possible interpretation because he's reassuring he really didn't make anything up]

Sobrevivo en la ciudad (¿Qué?)

I survive in the city (What?)

Me la busco pa' ganar, cien monedas pa' gastar

I'm looking to earn, a hundred dollars to spend [In this sentence, the comma is very important because in ‘me la busco pa' ganar’ read alone, it means that he's finding his ways to earn a living or a better life. When you add ‘cien monedas pa' gastar’, it extends to ‘he's finding his way to earn $100 to spend’, but the comma is important because it keeps alive the idea that he's not only working for the 100 dollars, but also for a better life (possibly a rich kind of life, but that's not necessarily implied)]

Una cama pa' dormir, y un yate pa' vacilar

A bed to sleep in, and a yacht to show off on”

What do we understand from this? That he's actually the one who doesn't want to have a serious relationship because his goal for the moment is to earn and live a good life, not to settle down and get married.

Pre-Chorus:

“Tú ya sabías to' lo que había

You already knew what to expect / You already knew what the situation was

No me hagas cambiar, vida mía

Don't make me change, my darling [He sings ‘vida mía’, which means ‘my life’. Calling someone ‘my life’ is not used in English because it makes no sense in the definition of the language itself. So, in this case, it's translated and used as a loving nickname. As you could call someone ‘my love’, ‘my heart’, ‘my baby’, or ‘my darling’]

Yo te doy hasta que se haga de día

I'll give you until it's daylight

Yo te doy hasta que se haga de día

I'll give you until it's daylight [‘Darle a alguien’, ‘to give to someone’ in Spanish has a sexual connotation. It means you're going to have sex with that person. It’s especially used from a male point of view; particularly this last line, he means he'd have sex with her all night until it's day again]”

He basically tells her: “You knew I'm an asshole. Don't try to change me because it's useless. The only thing I can give you is whole nights of sex”.

Chorus:

Sigue' dándome na', dándome nada

You keep giving me nothing, giving me nothing

Can't keep up with your vibe

'Cause you're up and you're down, 'round and you're 'round, babe

I can not read your mind

Conté lo' día' pa' volverte a ver

I counted the days to see you again

Y tú ni sabe' qué quiere' hacer

And you don't even know what you want to do

Cuando me vaya no voy a volver

When I leave I won’t come back

Sigue' dándome na', dándome nada

You keep giving me nothing, giving me nothing”

This is an ultimatum. “If you keep giving me nothing for much longer, I'll leave you without looking back”.

Verse 2:

“Yo no estoy para regalarte

I'm not here to please you [The literal translation of that is ‘I'm not here to give you’. The incomplete sentence opens an ambiguity where you don't know if she’s saying ‘I'm not here to give you anything’, or ‘I'm not here to give you things’, or ‘I'm not here to fulfill your wishes’, or ‘I'm not here to please you’, or things like that that make you understand that if he's not ready to pay attention to her right now and give her the love she needs, and he's clearly not because he's ‘giving her nothing’, she's not just going to wait there by begging for some love or collecting the crumbs that he leaves behind. She's saying “give me the love and the attention I need or I'll go away on my own”. So overall, ‘I'm not here to please you’ is a decent interpretation]

Ni tampoco para esperarte

Nor to wait for you

Ese dinero no te va a cuidar

That money won’t take care of you

No te pido matrimonio, yo sólo tu arte

I'm not asking you to marry me, just your love [That's the real meaning behind the sentence despite the literal translation being this: I'm not asking you to marry me, just your art]

Cuando no estoy ahí

When I'm not there

Sé que preguntas por mí

I know you ask about me

Sé por qué eres así

I know why you're like this

I know you're afraid of falling in too deep

We can pretend like we’ve only done this for the fun of it

Pero no te sorprendas si te enteras que así como tú hay mil

But don't be surprised to find out there are a thousand just like you around”

Basically: “I'm not asking you to marry me, just to have a real relationship. An exclusive relationship. We can continue to pretend that we just had fun, but I know there's something deeper. I know you're afraid of falling in love with me, but if you keep wanting this kind of relationship, then I'm gonna go find someone who wants the same things as me; also because there are a lot of guys out there and I'm starting to get tired of waiting”.

And that's all, dear Anon. Now that you know the real translation *thanks once again, mi amor 💖* , can you see anything that has to do with Mila? Because I don't. In fact, if I really have to find an association with Camren, the only thing that comes to my mind is that Lauren could have written some parts of her verse from Camila's point of view when they were still just fuckbuddies. You know? Since it was Laur who was initially in denial and was afraid, and not Camila. She was the one who was afraid of the idea of even liking Mila, let alone falling in too deep. But it's not like that. There's nothing of Camila here. There's no Camren here. For me, this song is the story of one of the three (Cris Chil, or C. Tangana, or Tainy) and Laur only contributed to it with her talent.

Of course I can, dear Anon 😉

So. Camila created In the Dark the day after going to the Grammys' after-party (February 12, 2017) with which she went with Ashlee as her date of hers. Mila said she got the idea for the song because of the encounter she had at that party with this unnamed famous guy. Yeah, sure, Jan. We know very well that this is not the case. Just as we know very well that that was the same night in which Tyren had their first public appearance as a fake couple. If you're interested, I've already explained all this also with proofs in my previous post: https://fa-by.tumblr.com/post/653296412485894144/romanticentropy-fa-by-hiiii-babies-and-dear (last question in my All These Years' interpretation).

If you don't mind, dear Anon, I'll start with the verses because they're the only parts of the song where Mila isn't addressing Lauren directly. In the verses, Camila just observes her by describing their surroundings.

Verse 1:

“Blank stares, faithless

Vampires at the same places

Shadows, traces”

Okay, let's talk about those types of parties for a moment. I bet that when you think about it, you picture a lot of celebrities having fun and dancing, glam, alcohol, drugs, music, and all those kinds of things, right? Well, that's just as true as it isn't. You see, there aren't just celebrities at those parties. There are one or more of they team members, there are A&R representatives of various labels, CEOs, publicists, producers, marketing representatives, radio and television presenters, reporters, designers, advertisers, etc., etc., etc. Those parties are the epicenter of business-talk. Very often, this is where ideas for collaborations, for PRs, for endorsements and sponsorships, for movie and TV appearances, etc., etc., happen. For those celebrities who have to be there for business reasons and not for actually having fun, those parties are pretty boring.

With those sentences, Mila describes all the people around her during that party. Those people who aren't having fun because they're surrounded by what she calls vampires. Before they marketed them by making them sparkle in the sun because of the crystals on their skin, or before they made them wear a gemstone in daylight rings, bracelets, and amulets to make them walk in the sun, you know? Before they become basically trendy, vampires were always the villains. But don't get me wrong with that. I saw the Twilight saga and I love love love The Vampire Diaries, but the fact remains that before all of that franchise, vampires have always been used in horror and scary genres because they're evil. Also because if you think about it, what do vampires do? They suck blood by basically feeding on the life force of creatures by draining them to survive and not decompose since they're undead. They need to take a life to keep living theirs, so yeah, they are the bad guys.

So Mila here describes both the bored people, the ones with blank stares who in those cases are the shadows of their true selves because they're pretending to be who they aren't, and those people of power as bloodsuckers, life-suckers: vampires. And I don't blame her at all because that's what they do. Vampires, or puppet masters, or parasites, or as you guys know I like to call them: sharks.

“I know that you feel me”

Now. Now, now, now, now, now, now. What does this sentence make us understand? Picture you're in a place full of people. Picture pretending that you're having fun because you can't show how much you actually want to be somewhere else. Picture smiling and forcibly laughing at the bullshit someone's saying. It's all about image. Now picture seeing someone you know amidst that sea of people. You and this person are far from each other, and at the moment, you both are busy talking to other people. Even though you turned around to keep having this oh so great conversation with those people, you can feel the person you know. You can feel their presence despite being on opposite sides. You can totally feel that they're still looking at you, and you have confirmation of that the moment you turn towards them again.

Apply all of this on Camren now. We know how they've always attracted each other. We know how they've always searched and checked each other when they were on opposite sides of a room. We know how they've always felt each other. So it's not that hard for me to picture how it went in this case. I understand what Mila means when she says she knows Laur could feel her despite the place and all the people around them. Because it's always been that way between them, and we've actually seen them do it many times.

Verse 2:

“Plus one, guest list

But you don't even know what her name is

Secrets, endless

I know that you feel me”

This is a repetition similar to the first verse. Mila here continues to describe the people around her and those around Laur. People who are there because they're on a list thanks to someone they don't even really know. People who in those events become totally fake because they all have secrets to hide, including the two of them. People who pretend to be friends with each other just for a matter of image without even knowing their real names, their real selves. People who are so used to wearing a mask that they've by now become that mask. And among all the sea of these people, Mila knows that Laur can feel her. Evidently as much as she can feel Laur.

Refrain:

“You’re runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin' (oh)

Making the rounds with all your fake friends”

As I said before, many celebrities wear a mask, this facade for protection. They do it to show themselves as unproblematic and to show themselves almost as perfect in the eyes of others. If you think about it, it's the same thing we see in many celebrities and even in Camren when they have to promote something. Neither of the two of them has problems showing themselves to us in a vulnerable, authentic way, without make-up ‘al natural’. But as soon as they have to promote something, bam! Dresses, nails done, make-up, and hair. It's quite normal on the one hand. I understand that. But the problem, as Mila herself said, is when this fake persona takes over your authentic self.

In this part, Mila explains how she was observing Lauren's behavior. This facade that she was wearing because they were in that kind of environment with those kinds of people and those fake friends (yes, including Tabloid). This mirage that allowed her to run and hide her true self from everyone, even from Camila herself.

“Runnin', runnin' away from it (away)”

Especially in this part, and despite having seen her fake act many times before, Mila lets us understand how Lauren was 'running' and suppressing/hiding her authentic self in front of everyone. [I remember that period. Lauren didn't act like Lauren for a while]

You can strip down without showing skin, now”

Okay, this? This sentence right here, it's magic. It's pure art. “It's okay to show the realistic side of yourself without exposing yourself and also having to show your secrets or what you want to keep to yourself. There's no need to act like a completely different person from who you are”. Camila leaves me more and more speechless with her way of writing and expressing such true and profound concepts.

Pre-Chorus:

“I can see you're scared of your emotions

I can see you're hoping, you're not hopeless

So why can't you show me?

Why can't you show me?

I can see you're looking for distractions

I can see you're tired of the acting

So why can't you show me?”

The pre-chorus explains itself quite well. Mila's saying “I know you. I see what you're doing. I see your fear. I see the way you want a way out. I see how tired you are of this farce. So why are you faking it? Why are you faking it in front of me? Why are you faking it with me? Show me the real Lauren. Not this industry puppet. Show me the Lauren I know”.

Chorus:

“Who are you in the dark? (I, I)

Show me the scary parts (I, I)

Who are you when it's 3AM and you're all alone

And L.A. doesn't feel like home? (I, I, I)

Who are you in the dark?”

Who are you in the dark? = Who are you when no one's watching. Who are you when no one can judge you. Who are you when you're alone and you can really lower that protective barrier you create around you. Show me that. Show me all of you.

Camila mentions 3AM because, as we well know thanks to their other songs, it was the nighttime hours when they were able to spend more time together freely. She also mentions L.A. to make a comparison with Miami since Los Angeles is the second city they spend the most time in due to their careers.

If in the pre-chorus Mila really asks her to show her her true self, here in the chorus she instead asks her a rhetorical question accompanied by the explanations themselves like the specific examples 3AM and L.A. to make/show her point even more. Basically the same explanation as the pre-chorus: “Who are you, because I know, I know you, so why don't you show me?”. And I really love this connection between pre-chorus and chorus.

Bridge:

“Darling, come on and let me in

Darling, all of the strangers are gone, they're gone

I said, darling, come on and let me see”

The difference between the pre-chorus & chorus and this, is the more affectionate way she addresses her. She's asking her in a cute way also thanks to the use of that classic old-school pet name, to open up and show herself. She's telling her that it's okay now that they're alone. And most importantly, she's reassuring her with this:

“Darling, I promise that I won't run”

After hurting each other, after the omissions and the secrets, after the fights, after the non-communication, after that toxicity, in short, after everything they'd been through in those years and the way things had ended between them almost two months prior, this is really serious. She's promising her that she'll stay. That's the first step, or at least what we know was the first step thanks to this song, towards a healthy relationship and towards a real positive change in their relationship.

And by the way, wooohh, this whole transition is amazing!

Outro:

“Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah

Who are you in the dark?

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah

Who are you in the dark?

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah

Who are you in the dark?

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah

Who are you in the dark?”

And that's all, dear Anon. I hope you liked my interpretation 🙃

P.S. When Sinu said “Number nine is my shit!” during that live, I felt that. Mama Sinu was right. Even after all this time, this song is still the shit 😎

🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍🤸🏻‍♀‍

Aaand I'm done 👩🏻‍💻 I hope I was helpful in this case too 😄 Thank you all for your asks and as usual, know that I'm available for those who have questions, so feel free to ask 😊

Before I go, I wanted to apologize for this huge delay. In addition to my job, it was due to the fact that I'm in the middle of a relocation. For about two months for 21 years, I always go to a place by the sea for the summer. I'll be there from today and I'll be back in September. Unfortunately there isn't much connection there, but there's a single wi-fi. I don't know if I'll continue to answer the asks all together with a post or individually. I'll see how to organize myself once I'm there. I apologize in advance if I'll take longer than usual to reply, but at least you know that it's because there's not much connection there (and you have to keep in mind that I’ll continue working normally because I’m not on holiday yet). Everything will be back to normal in September.

That being said, always remember to be kind, to others and to yourselves. Be a good example. Be patient. Be safe and take care of yourselves. Don't let our ship sink. Keep shipping them, but please respectfully 🙏🏼 Sending you virtual love and hugs 🤗🤗🤗 I love you, babies. Always with love, F ❤️

[zosonils-art]

Do you have a robot master OC (of the eight plus Drum) that you’d say is your favorite? If you haven’t done an infodump for them yet then you should do that one next

i couldn't choose a favourite if i tried, i love them all, but since you mentioned drum i thought i'd give her some new art and a proper dedicated post too! infodrump [ayyy] under the cut

drum, serial number SWN-002, is my take on the popular [????? i'm still a bit of a mega man fandom newbie i don't know hjdfn] 'wily equivalent to roll' oc template! she keeps things running at the various castles and fortresses and hideouts and whatever else her dad holes up in, whether that's by doing housework, planning schemes, or dodging taxes. whenever wily is trying to take over the world, drum acts as his second-in-command, ensuring that everything goes according to plan and ordering around the latest group of robot masters

she's every bit the edgy mid-00s teenager she looks: sarcastic, apathetic, and always talking back to her dad. she's more obedient than bass is, but she doesn't care for her job at all and will resort to any flimsy excuse or act of malicious compliance she can come up with to slack off. due to her purpose as an organiser and commander, she's a bossy control freak who's quick to anger when things don't go exactly her way, although when she's off work the worst of these traits recede in favour of more conventional teenage apathy. she sees herself as above the time and effort it takes to go out of her way to be mean to people like wily and bass tend to do, but she's equally uninterested in being nice on purpose and her default attitude is squarely on the nastier side

when she doesn't have work to focus on - and sometimes when she does anyway - drum is the lead vocalist and guitarist in a garage band, of which she is [currently - a friend's ocs get involved later, but that's a whole different post] the only member. i'm not good with music terms but she's into whatever genre stuff like wake me up inside and crawling in my skin is [i know those aren't the names hdfjf it's just the words i know people will recognise]. the sort with the crunchy guitar and the very loud lyrics about being sad and/or angry. playing or blasting music helps her to calm down when she's in a bad mood, which is pretty much all the time. the first warning sign of a new wily plot is a spike in search popularity for my chemical romance

i haven't gotten around to designing it, but drum has a non-armoured form like most of the other more explicitly kid-like robots, which she mostly uses for loitering around malls when she has an excuse to not be at home. she rarely buys anything, just hangs out and radiates an aura that makes suburban white women hurry their three kids into the next shop. drum often ends up hanging out with like-minded teens in the same vague area of the goth/punk/emo venn diagram she occupies, and makes a bit of a game out of seeing how honest she can be about her life without revealing that she's one of the world's most wanted robots. she tells herself that it's just something she does out of boredom and curiosity towards humans, but it mostly stems from loneliness and the desire to have literally any friends that aren't her brother's dog

as a sort of contrast to the healthy and positive relationship between their lightbot counterparts, drum and bass absolutely DESPISE each other and make no secret of it. each of them thinks of the other as an insufferable prick and they'll get into petty arguments over just about anything, from whose turn it is on the xbox to who treble loves more. [for the record, it's drum. she lets him hang out in the kitchen while she's cooking and sneaks him food scraps when bass isn't looking. he's the only family member she has an even remotely positive relationship with.] pretty much the only thing that can get them to stop fighting is mutual hatred of a bigger prick, and so far the only person to consistently get them to put their differences aside like this is wily himself - as much as the wily kids hate each other, they hate their dad just a little more, and have a history of teaming up just to mess with him. sometimes mega man can spark that spiteful cooperation, but drum's total apathy towards the light-wily family rivalry means she usually sees him as not worth her time and just finds bass' obsession with beating him even more annoying

drum wasn't made for combat, and as such she doesn't have a signature weapon or any fancy tricks like the copy chip. usually she just orders other robots to do the fighting for her. however, she is equipped with a standard arm-mounted buster, and can hold her own in battle with a 'fight smarter, not harder' approach if she has to. she's also outfitted with the same treble adapter that bass has, so if she's backed into a corner she can call on him for a power boost. treble is capable of supporting both adapters simultaneously, so as an absolute last resort they can all combine into treble-boosted drum & bass, who theoretically has all the combat power of bass plus the strategic thinking from drum and the boost in power from treble. in practice, though, drum and bass are so at odds with each other that they can barely hold together in the same body without either fighting for control or outright splitting apart to argue harder. again, it takes a lot of spite to get them to work together, but if something draws their combined ire and convinces them to cooperate they're an utterly terrifying force to be reckoned with

the game idea i vaguely have in my mind would feature drum as the final-not-final boss before wily reveals he was the mastermind behind it all and surprises absolutely nobody. she was put in charge of the latest world domination attempt, probably as the result of a 'why don't YOU take over the world if you're so smart' conversation, and in true drum fashion she follows a standard wily plot outline to the letter - including the blatant flaws, like all eight of her chosen robot masters forming a rock-paper-scissors wheel just begging to be exploited by the copy chip, and making a clear path from just outside the death fortress to her base of operations. after she's defeated in combat, she sarcasically wonders aloud how mega man could have possibly bested her plan and then helpfully points rock directly to wily's castle. she didn't wanna do the stupid scheme in the first place

again, i love all my ocs too much to possibly choose a favourite, but i'd say drum was the most fun to come up with if only because i had the help of some mates in a discord server. someone was like 'hey if there's bass is there a roll equivalent called drum or something lol' and i SPRINTED to microsoft paint to rough out a character design and the next entire day was just a constant stream of all of us bouncing ideas off each other and creating the meanest girl in the universe. her design changed a little bit from the initial sketch, most notably she used to have the half-shaved hairstyle that every gay person tries at some point before that changed to a midpoint between phoenix wright and sonic the hedgehog, but overall everything about her as a character flowed really well from the start. while she's fallen mostly into my hands since the initial brainstorm, she absolutely wouldn't exist without those friends' input and i feel that that's important to mention!

i'm very tired and i've been working on this on and off for the past day so i'm gonna call the infodrump finished here - thanks for giving me the excuse to talk about her! unfiltered and transparent versions of the art below as always

[mascwhump]

Chapter 1: Hillside

Well, here it is! First piece of work with these guys that I’m publishing. It’s not great but I’m confident enough to post it. Let me know what you think!

TW: blood, guns, general military stuff

Tag list: @whumpasaurus101

-

Charlie sat on the basement floor, humming along to the music he was playing from his phone. He meticulously loaded bullets into the magazines, completely immersed in the repetitive motions. He finished just in time for Crow to call him up for dinner.

“Pasta again?” Adrian complained.

“Maybe if you had gone into town like I asked, we would have something else to eat,” Crow snapped back.

Charlie took his seat at the table. He filled his plate with the butter covered spaghetti. Ethan slid into the room on his socks, crashing into the back of a chair. Nobody made a comment, as this was normal behavior.

“Where are you at with our gear?” Adrian asked Charlie with mouthful of food. Crow shot him a glare from across the table.

“All set. Just finished loading the mags,” Charlie answered.

After dinner, Charlie helped Ethan wash the dishes. They finished in record time, as getting to bed as soon as possible was a priority. They were leaving at 2 A.M. to meet Deke at the helipad.

The plan consisted of Charlie posted up on a hill, overseeing the ZETA compound with his sniper rifle. Adrian and Crow were to head into the building, download some files from a computer, and get the hell out of there. Ethan was to stay on the helicopter with Deke at the exfil point.

The alarm buzzing at 12:30 made Charlie’s eyes shoot open. He slapped his hand around the nightstand before finding the clock and switching it off. Soon, he was dressed and in the kitchen, cooking eggs from Adrian’s chickens. The others emerged from the basement with their gear, tossing it aside in the hallway when they realized food was on the table.

After eating, Charlie strapped on his vest and mentally went through the checklist to make sure he had all of his gear. After shoving a knife in his boot and a pistol by his hip, he reached for the face paint and slathered it on. Finally, they loaded the gear into the Jeep and headed toward the helipad.

The safe house was deep in the woods, miles from the city. It sat not too far from a lake, where the team would spend R&R time when on standby. The helipad was also secluded, located in a clearing about 3 miles from the safe house. The road they took was hardly maintained; it was incredibly rare to see anyone else on it, especially at the hours they traveled.

Once they arrived, Deke was leaning against his bird, smoking a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” Adrian said.

“Want one?” Deke offered.

“Fuck yeah I do,” Adrian replied.

The team loaded themselves, along with their gear, into the helicopter. The blades whirled to life and they put on the headphones that allowed them to communicate with each other. Adrian flicked the cigarette out as they lifted off.

“That’s how forest fires start,” Ethan said flatly.

Adrian shrugged in response.

“Alright, we’ve got about two hours. Let’s go over the plan again,” Crow spoke.

Charlie was awoken by a kick to his boot.

“Five minutes out,” Adrian spoke.

Charlie grabbed his rifle, checking it one last time to make sure it looked good. He went through the checklist once more in his head to be positive that he had everything.

Deke brought the bird down in a clearing two miles from the compound. Charlie, Adrian, and Crow jumped out, switching on their comms.

“We’ll be here,” Deke said.

The team made their way into the forest, heading South. Crow and Adrian swept the area with their rifles, and Charlie followed behind. They weren’t expecting anyone this far from the compound, but you could never be too safe. Finally, they reached the top of the hill, where Charlie was to remain.

“Good luck,” he wished them, patting them both on the back before they went off.

Charlie laid his rifle down in the grass, standing it up on its bipod. He got settled in a prone position before looking through the scope to find Crow and Adrian. Soon, they appeared at the bottom of the hill, carefully making their way toward the building.

“Got you in my scope,” Charlie spoke.

“10-4,” Crow replied.

Two guards stood outside the door they planned to go in. Charlie watched as they took them down silently and dragged their bodies behind a truck. They changed into the uniforms of the enemy before heading back to the building. The door was unlocked.

As Charlie could no longer track his team, he scanned the surrounding area, checking for any guards. The perimeter was clear.

“Found a computer. Downloading data now. This’ll take about 5 minutes,” Adrian relayed in a hushed tone.

“10-4. Building perimeter is clear,” Charlie replied.

A minute passed. Then two. Then three.

Then the alarm sounded.

“Talk to me, Lefty,” Charlie spoke, “what’s going on?”

“They must’ve detected the download. We’re leaving. Is our exit clear?” Crow replied.

“Exit’s clear,” Charlie answered.

He scanned the area around the exit, ready to pick off anybody who would be in the way.

“Fuck, we’re compromised! Go!” Crow yelled.

Suddenly, multiple men appeared outside, pouring out of every door. Charlie began picking them off one by one. The soldiers looked around frantically, trying to find the origin of the shots.

“Flame, get out!” Adrian screamed over the comms, gunfire crackling through the speaker.

“They haven’t seen me yet, keep heading toward the exit!” Charlie replied as he continued to fire.

He was able to pick off a few more before a sharp pain blew through his right shoulder. He dropped the rifle, his hand flying to his shoulder. Pushing himself along the ground, he abandoned his rifle in favor of cover behind a large rock. When he pulled his hand away from his shoulder, he observed the blood soaking his glove.

“I’ve been hit,” he grunted into the comms.

“I told you to go! Right, right! Go right!” Crow yelled in response.

Charlie leaned up against the rock and retrieved the pistol from his holster. He thought about using a tourniquet, but the wound was too far up. Instead, he used his left hand to keep pressure on it, and held the gun in his right. It was incredibly painful to hold up his arm to aim, but he had no choice. He listened carefully to his surroundings.

“Give me a sitrep,” he breathed.

“Trying to find another exit,” Adrian replied, “it’s- ah shite,“

“Scotch? What’s going on?” Charlie yelled, “Scotch? Lefty? Talk to me!”

The radio went quiet. Charlie ears strained; it wasn’t a matter of if he would be found, it was a matter of when. He pressed deeply on the wound, doing anything he could to control the bleeding. The sudden crunching of leaves made him jerk toward the noise. He pointed his gun to the trees, waiting. The sound became closer and more hurried. His finger rested above the trigger, ready to fire.

“Charlie!” Ethan gasped, stumbling out of the trees.

Charlie set down his pistol, relieved to see his friend. Ethan ran over to him and immediately inspected the wound.

“Shit, there’s no exit wound,” he sighed as he took over the job of applying pressure.

“Have you heard from them? My comms are dead,” Charlie asked.

Ethan shook his head. “They went silent. We have to get you back to the helicopter,” he answered.

“No. We can’t go without them,” Charlie protested.

“You’re losing too much blood,” Ethan argued back.

Then, a bullet whizzed past their heads, missing them by just inches.

“Hold your fire!”

A group of about six men approached, guns raised and ready to fire. Charlie rested his hand on his pistol, watching them.

“He wants them alive.”

The color drained from Ethan’s face as the men continued toward them, standing just feet away. Without hesitation, Charlie picked up the gun and fired in their direction, hitting one of the men in the chest. Another soldier lunged forward, pushing Ethan out of the way before wrestling the pistol from Charlie’s hand.

“Please, he’s hurt,” Ethan begged, placing his hands back on the wound.

“We’ll take care good care of your friend,” a solider said, stepping forward.

In one movement, the shoulder of his rifle met the side of Ethan’s head, instantly rendering him unconscious. Charlie sprang to his feet while ripping the knife from his boot. The sharp pain in his shoulder hindered his attack. He jumped at the solider, missing his chance to sink the knife in. He was forced to the ground, and the last thing he saw was a boot coming toward his face.

[crystalkleure]

Haha hey remember that post I made awhile back, speculating on what a bad idea it might be to fuse dead things in the godless Frankenstein fossil machine

Meet White. He is a reanimated corpse. Two of them, actually. Or more like 1.5. [And I whipped up this half-assed partial reference sheet in one night instead of sleeping, so don’t look too hard at the chickenscratch lineart and visible guidelines, and kindly ignore the total lack of shading as well as any other messy jankiness.]

White is a product of me wondering not only about what happens if you NecroFuse a human with a Pokemon, but also what happens if you make it even worse and specifically fuse that human with a Pokemon capable of mega evolution. Because canon seems to imply that mega evolving is at best deeply uncomfortable -- and at worst outright agonizing -- for whatever creature is going through it.

Character Lore under the cut. Lots of text:

White is one of actually multiple undead guys who got mashed together with bits of dead Pokemon. They’re science experiments, so they've got the dex numbers of the Pokemon they're spliced with tattooed on the backs of their necks, and those numbers were treated as their names In The Evil Science Lab.

In his Original Life, White [and some of his buddies] got gored to death by some escaped Horrible Fucking Monsters that were accidentally [...and then not-so-accidentally] created via Two Pokemon At Once In A Fossil Resurrection Machine, because hey, it is SUPER easy to think you got Just One Thing's Bones from an excavation dig but then later you realize that Some Of Those Bones were from something TOTALLY different that just died in the same place. It happens. So, some Fossil Scientist People accidentally resurrected an Abomination, realized they fucked up pretty fast...and then started wondering if they REALLY fucked up or if this is Cool, Actually. And then the team of Science People split into two Morality Factions, with one half being like “This is unethical as shit, we need to make sure this doesn't happen again because it's not natural so who knows how this poor fucked up creature is suffering” and the other, cooler half being like “WE NEED TO DO THIS AGAIN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE SCIENCE. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES HOLY SHIT.”

Cooler group splits off from the Horrified Group With Morals, and they promptly use their Science Knowledge to Construct More Machines and Make More Monsters. Doesn't take too long for them to realize, however, that Abomination Pokemon are stupidly hard to control, because not only are they suffering, their masters obviously don't care for their wellbeing, so Revolt Inevitably Occurs and they escape to wreak havoc upon the nearest congregation of townspeople. They promptly maul some people to death at a nearby local rock concert, scientists chase after them to clean up the mess, realize “Oh Shit, Manslaughter Charges Impending”, and then realize...

Science Guy 1: “...Hey, what happens if you put a dead person in the fossil machine?”

Science Guy 2: “Hey, people probably listen better than Pokemon. We can, like, TALK to people.”

Science Guy 3: “Lads, I got a stellar idea just now. And we got plenty of Dead Guys to start with right here! Great way to hide the bodies too, probably.”

This goes approximately as well as you would expect, and precisely as ethically. A smashing success!

However, because they Fucking Died, the reanimated Newly-Monsterized dudes do not remember shit about who they were pre-resurrection. They're not technically even the same people, they’re more like clones. They've been remade. So, all they know now is Science Lab Life, and they have no initial attachment to eachother aside from "that other guy is also a Science Experiment Person just like me, so Same Hat @ Labrat Neighbour ig", in spite of several having been friends or even family prior to death. They also just...don’t know/remember things in general. They are fresh blank slates. And to a morally-bankrupt team of scientists, that’s perfect! They can train these guys to behave however they please!

...However, people might be People Instead Of Animals, meaning they can be Reasoned With And Manipulated And Coerced far better than animals due to their far better communication abilities with the Science People, but...there is Still A Problem in the sense that Holy Shit, A Person Can Only Take So Much. You can only treat someone as "Experiment [number]" for so long, blatantly putting no value on their life outside of The Value Of Scientific Research, in spite of literally basically needing to raise them like a normal child due to the Lack Of Memories issue. Eventually they're not gonna be able to take that anymore and they are gonna Fucking Leave, too. And they’re gonna be much harder to track down than the rampaging Pokemon were. Impossible, actually, once they’ve ripped out their tracking chips.

So then there's just these monster dudes, who don't actually know what they are because they weren't ever told anything more than necessary to get them to cooperate with Tests And Experiments, just Escaped Into Civilization and having NO idea how Anything works. Fun! Especially considering how, at first glance, these just look like Normal Dudes. Their monster bits either aren't apparent or just look like funky body modifications.

They've also got Science Things in them and they Don't Know What The Fuck Those Things Even Are. They've just got these little Devices in/on their chests, and they were never informed of the exact functions of them because there's no reason to explain to the experiment What Is Happening, just that the experiment needs to Hold Still and Cooperate and Now Do This, Now Do This, Now Do That, Good Job That's Enough For Today, etc.

Those devices contain both key stones and mega stones.

If you were a Mad Pokemon Scientist, you would most certainly be interested in the mega evolution phenomenon. What would YOU do if some of your Undead Fusion Experiments happened to be spliced with bits of Pokemon known to be capable of mega evolving? You’d kill two birds with one enigmatic set of stones, that’s what you’d do. Your Frankenstein Experiments can even TALK to you and tell you exactly what they are experiencing when you run tests on them! It’s perfect!

So, if a rock-bearing monster’s heart rate goes too high, part of the little device, which is a barrier between one type of rock and the other, opens up and Exposes One Rock To The Other Rock. Which exposes the monster to the Rock Energy Reaction. The greater the stress, the higher the dose. And I’m sure you can see the snowball effect that’s gonna create, at least the first time or two.

They were INTENDED to eventually be made to Physically Fight With Eachother to gauge the effects of The Rocks™️ when the Guys With The Rocks are under Stress and need to Do Some Self-Defense. The Science Squad was basically trying to suss out the Actual Purpose of mega evolution. Because mega evolution is weird -- it puts ENORMOUS stress on the body of whatever is undergoing it, so the hypothesis was that its true power is probably drawn out best via a perceived life-threatening situation, like it’s a type of hysterical strength, because what else would cause a need for that kind of ability. And aren’t ethics a bit overrated?

So, there’s our premise. White is just wandering around without any particular purpose outside of never ever going back to Science Hell, and he has no clue what the funny little doohickey buried in his chest does until it activates one day and absolutely fucks him up [...as well as everyone around him. Mega Absol radiate an Aura Of Sheer Terror that can literally scare people with weak hearts to death if they’re not careful.]

And now, some Miscellaneous Character Info:

The bit about Lots Of Death happening at a rock concert specifically was important. White was actually the vocalist of the band that was playing. He doesn’t remember that now, but he still loves music and has the same strong vocal cords. And THAT is important because White is partially an Absol now and Absol naturally learns Perish Song. These Fusion Monsters are absolutely capable of using Pokemon moves, though whether they’re aware of this is a different matter entirely. Imagine what happens when they end up tapping into those abilities accidentally.

That band was a relatively-unknown little local band. White was by no means anywhere near famous. Very few people even realized he was gone, and most of the ones who would have noticed also ended up Equally Unalive.

That black stuff between the belts on White’s arms is mesh. Like, stocking mesh. It gets Ripped The Fuck Apart when he goes Mega Mode and his arm fur gets Extra Spiky. Hence one stocking being a bit tattered in that reference pic. He frequently has to replace those things, they are fragile.

“How did White get his name if he doesn’t remember his original name and didn’t have a real name in the lab” I am glad you asked! Post-escape, he eventually encountered a situation where someone asked him what his name was, he bluntly told them “I don’t have one. I am #359.”, they said “Well That Is Not A Name, I need something proper to call you”, and he was just...Super Apathetic. So, the other person picked out the name “White” just based on the fact that White’s hair is white, and he just shrugged and rolled with it.

As you can see in my Incredibly Quick And Rough Sketches, the backs of White’s shirts are open to accommodate that huge amount of fur that bristles out into false wings when he goes Mega Mode. Because his Actual Normal Hair is relatively long and overlaps with that fur, it blends in with his Actual Normal Hair and doesn’t look too odd [when it’s down]. Probably mostly because nobody’s expecting it to be anything OTHER than Perfectly Normal Hair That Just Happens To Be Very Long.

White does not particularly like violence. White does not want to beat you up. He will, though, without a bit of hesitation, if there’s some logical reason he feels like it’s the most practical course of action. Being essentially raised by Cold, Emotionally-Sterile Scientists With No Care For The Wellbeing Other Living Beings uh, tends to affect a guy a little bit. White has a bit of an internal dilemma regarding “It would be efficient for me to just Harm This Other Person to defuse the current situation, because attempting nonviolence will be overall more risky somehow” vs. “Holy shit it feels bad when I hurt people. Why does it feel bad when I hurt people. Is it...SUPPOSED to feel bad when I hurt people?? No one ever felt bad for hurting me.” He Figures Out How Empathy Works Eventually. He is a good guy at heart. He is a Monotone Snarker, but not actually Cold or Malicious at all.

If an Absol can do it, White can probably do it. He has incredibly keen senses and a STRONG ability to Detect Impending Doom. He has exactly the amount of Supernatural Absol Powers you would expect. He is also stupidly physically strong, way more so than he appears to be.

White can’t punch people. Look at the fist he’s making in the pic, he’s doing it wrong. If you punch someone like that, you WILL break your own thumb. That’s not a Revving Up To Sock Someone pose, he’s just tense. He’s using his thumb as a buffer between his long-ass Sharp As Fuck claws and the flesh of his palm. If White tries to punch anybody, or just makes a proper fist at all, he will impale his own hand on his nails. Like, all the way through. He CAN slash straight through things like metal and bone with those claws, though.

White...is unsettling. Completely accidentally, and unknowingly. He just radiates an Aura Of Intimidation [...or Pressure], even when not in Mega Mode, that scales depending on his mood. Just being near him tends to put people and Pokemon on edge. Thus, he’s generally avoided.

The latter point is especially unfortunate, because White’s preferred method of Socializing and Bonding is to just kind of quietly hang out in the same room as whoever he is trying to Socialize and Bond with. He just wants to, like...chill out Near A Buddy and watch a movie and share a bag of chips or something. His social skills are predictably not good.

[sparkkeyper]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

Word Count: 3,797

Warnings: None    

Summary: Old habits die hard. Crowley and Aziraphale’s habits are very, very old. Building their own side is difficult when 6000 years of instincts won’t shut up. 

(Originally very loosely-based on the song "Baby, It's Cold Outside" but then it kind of did its own thing, haha. I was originally going to post this for Advent  Omens but uhhh you can see that didn’t quite happen. Written as ace but you can read it however you want, really. Guess what fools, it’s Soft Boi hours again!)

(Now on AO3!)

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The snow had started early in the day. When Aziraphale arrived at the Mayfair flat it was just a dusting. But the flurry had become a proper snowfall, and then quickly decided 'go big or go home' and transitioned into a flat-out storm.

This didn't phase the two immortals in the slightest, of course. If anything, the swirling flakes outside made it feel even cozier inside. Crowley's sleek, minimalist flat had grown a fireplace for the occasion, and a very surprised new chimney on the roof of the building found itself venting smoke that somehow managed to bypass three floors.

They sat together on the plush sofa (obtained at Aziraphale's insistence several months prior, on the grounds that he wasn't going to continue coming over if there was nowhere comfortable to sit, and Crowley couldn't have that) and drank wine and talked and laughed and reveled in the feeling of being cozy and warm on a cold, blustery day.

Time had traveled on in the usual manner since Armageddon failed to happen. The two of them were unwinding slowly. Thousands of years of looking over shoulders did not evaporate in an evening, benevolent Antichrist or no, and 'our side' was a concept they were still carefully exploring. But what a glorious exploration it was.

There was no limit to the amount of time they could spend together. It was a dizzying concept that they were both adjusting to, but one that carried a thrill through it all the same. Crowley had been sorely tempted to buy tickets to every concert, play, and musical revue London had to offer and do nothing but attend shows for the foreseeable future, the two of them together. In public. He very well might have done too, if Aziraphale hadn't talked him down amid giddy chuckles. "We have time," Aziraphale had reminded him, and Crowley was ecstatic to realize that it was true.

He had relented to two a week.

It was elating. They stood closer together, they sat beside each other on public transportation rather than one behind the other, they gave each other teasing nudges with elbows.

And sometimes - when they were both at least a bottle in - one of them might even bump their hand against the other's, and fingers might intertwine, and an electric tingle would flood Crowley like a live thing, and most importantly neither would pull away for at least two solid minutes and oh wasn't that alone worth saving the world for?

Crowley spent a previously-unheard-of amount of time at the bookshop and Aziraphale's face always lit up like the sun whenever he walked in. He arrived early, stayed late, sometimes didn't bother going home at all, often showed up with wine or snacks, and they were together and it was wonderful. He had fallen asleep on the bookshop couch in the past, but these months he got the impression that Aziraphale had zoned the piece of furniture as specifically his. There was a permanent place set aside for him in Aziraphale's home, in Aziraphale's life. It made a warmth pool in his stomach to think about it despite the creeping winter chill.

Aziraphale had begun to visit Crowley's flat in return. The angel had never once set foot in the place until the night after the airfield - Crowley had never given him the address, to be fair - but now that permission had been granted Aziraphale was here increasingly often. It was so like the easy evenings at the bookshop, just with more austere surroundings. Music, alcohol, debates and memories and slightly drunken speculation. The occasional temporary twining of fingers. It was good.

It was overwhelming sometimes, this new 'good'.

Aziraphale always left the flat at the end of the evening, usually around ten. He had no reservations whatsoever about chatting until dawn in the bookshop but the flat was a new environment, Crowley supposed. Possibly something to do with propriety.

Possibly something to do with thousands of years of distance that they were both still figuring out how to cross.

But that was Aziraphale, all right: as slow and steady as a glacier when it came to his set, comfortable ways. So much had changed in the past few months and the angel had had to adapt quickly. Crowley didn't begrudge him taking a few things slow. Old habits were hard to break and their habits were very, very old.

Crowley understood well how shadows could linger even in the bright daylight. It was all well and good to say he was off Hell's payroll. It was another thing entirely when instinct crept up on him screaming that he needed to watch his back, to sit a row behind Aziraphale on the bus, to have forty excuses ready for when Dagon came auditing. It took considerable effort to override those instincts and remind himself that 'together' was okay. It was allowed. And still he'd so far only managed to turn the volume down on them, not silence them completely. He didn't know if he ever would. Crowley didn't doubt Aziraphale had similar instincts of his own. If the angel felt better setting himself a curfew, Crowley certainly wasn't going to judge.

But tonight they were here, and warm, and sheltered from the blizzard. As 'retro' had begun to slide back into style, Crowley had picked up a sleek addition to his stereo system that was at once a record turntable, radio, tape deck, and CD player, with added Bluetooth capability for good measure. Strains of Vivaldi swam through the room from a vinyl, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the clinking of wine glasses. Aziraphale was settled deeply into the sofa, his posture several steps short of perfect which was how Crowley knew he was truly relaxed. Crowley, as per usual, was draped over the couch like he'd never seen one before in his life, as though he had too many limbs and didn't know what to do with them all. It was good.

Life was good.

It was a little after ten when Aziraphale spoke up. "It's getting late." His voice was a bit distant as he looked out the window, snow glinting in the reflected light as it fell. "I suppose I ought to be going."

There was a note of regret to his voice, a lack of conviction in his eyes, that Crowley had learned to read over the long years of the Arrangement. A smile pulled at the corner of the demon's mouth, covered up easily by another sip of wine. It was a very old game they played, treading carefully along the outside edges of things that could not or should not be said aloud. Expectations, angelic ones in particular, built a lot of barriers. Aziraphale wanted something that wasn't allowed him - or wasn't supposed to be allowed him - and couldn't bring himself to reach out and grasp it. It was Crowley's job to find ways for him to justify the forbidden something to himself.

In the subtle language they shared, the angel was asking Crowley to tempt him, and how could Crowley pass up a request like that?

"Awfully cold out there," the demon drawled, gesturing languidly toward the window with his wine glass. "Snowing like nobody's business. Wind and ice and subzero chill. Terrible night to be out in."

"I'm sure it's not so bad."

"Not so bad? It's been raging for hours! Look at it! It's knee-high! You expect me to try and drive my poor car out in that mess?"

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the demon. "Ah yes. Imagine if humans invented other forms of transportation aside from your horrid car."

The demon's argument was all bluff and they both knew it. The Bentley could slice through the snowdrifts like a hot knife through butter if Crowley wanted it to. It wasn't the strength of the argument that mattered - it was whether or not Aziraphale could twist it to bypass the metaphorical roadblocks. Crowley rose to the challenge by sprawling back on the sofa with a smirk. "Other forms of transportation? You mean a bus, in weather like that? And good luck finding a cab out there, angel. City's practically shut down."

Aziraphale stood, giving his back a tentative stretch. "I could walk, of course. I've done it loads of times. It doesn't take much more than twenty minutes, not counting the care that has to be taken for ice."

"Walk, he says!" Crowley tossed back the remainder of his wine like a shot glass. "Think of it - the first angel in history to catch pneumonia! Bad job I'm not working for Hell anymore; they'd give me an award!"

"If doing those temptations in Qashliq for you didn't give me pneumonia, I'm quite sure nothing will."

"Are you ever going to let that go? It was over four hundred years ago!"

"It was February in Siberia, no I will not."

"Suppose you did stay a bit longer," Crowley ventured, changing tactics. It was a risk, coming at the problem from such a direct angle when they were both so used to ghosting along edges. "Bookshop wouldn't go anywhere, would it?"

Aziraphale blinked at the abrupt transition. "Well no, I shouldn't think so. It's just...I mean if I don't return home someone might notice of course and well...people will talk."

Crowley leaned forward over his knees, seriously. "Angel. When, in two hundred years in that bookshop, have you ever given a single fuck what your human neighbours think?"

Aziraphale drew himself up with a huff, and Crowley was delighted to see familiar indignation winning out over nerves. "I am an upstanding member of the community, I'll have you know. And it's not just my neighbours, of course - it's yours as well. That little old lady who lives on the floor below, for example. She always gives me that look when I pass her in the lift."

"What look?"

"You know! That look! Like she thinks she knows what's going on between the two of us."

The demon grinned like a Cheshire cat and gave a suggestive wiggle of his shoulders just for the expression it painted across the angel's face. "You're worried that my neighbours are going to think you and I took a tumble in the sheets?"

"They already suspect! Or at least she suspects." Aziraphale was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but mirth glinted behind his eyes. "Do you know what she said to me as she was getting out of the lift the other day? 'Don't forget to use protection; you don't know where he's been!'"

Crowley howled, leaning so far back in his laughter that he fell off the couch.

"I don't know what's more outlandish, the idea that we're in here having a lurid physical affair or the idea that I don't know exactly where you've been."

Crowley wiped his eyes dry and held out a hand so the angel could help pull him up from the floor. "Remind me to miracle her fridge so that all her milk keeps past its date. 'Don't know where he's been' indeed."

Aziraphale fought to get his own smile under control, for the sake of his argument if nothing else. "Yes, but it just goes to show, Crowley, people do notice. And they will talk, I'm sure of it."

"Let them," he waved it off. "I've seen tissue paper with more durability than human gossip. It'll all get forgotten in a day or two." Crowley leaned over and refilled both glasses.

"Right. I suppose it will." The angel took a tentative sip and sat back into the sofa again. "Silly thing to get worked up about, really."

On a regular night that might have been the end of it. They'd had their verbal tennis, they'd had a laugh, and Aziraphale had accepted another drink. But try as he might, the angel couldn't seem to settle. There was a stiffness, a tension to his spine that would not unwind. He fidgeted with the stemware, shooting furtive glances at the window, the fireplace, the clock. 

The ceiling.

The final notes of Vivaldi faded out, leaving the room in silence, and Crowley rose to swap the record. The discomfort radiating off the angel was almost palpable and it made his own spine crawl. "Aziraphale--"

"Only, the wind really looks dreadful," Aziraphale blurted out, jolting to his feet and crossing to the window. "I really ought to go before it gets worse."

"Can't get much worse than it is, I think," Crowley countered carefully. "Best stay where it's warm."

"I don't..." Aziraphale stared out at the London skyline, nearly invisible in the storm. Pale fingers worried absently at the hem of his waistcoat. His mouth was down to a thin line and there was quite a lot behind his eyes. He looked pained. "I shouldn't impose."

"You're not imposing if I'm offering."

"It isn't...it isn't right for me to stay!"

The demon set down the vinyl he was holding, something dangerous layering his words. "Says who?"

"I've been ignoring protocol too much as it is--"

Crowley gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his throat. "There is no protocol on our side!"

"I know!" Aziraphale snapped. There was a beat of silence and the anger in the angel's face melted as suddenly as it had come, leaving his expression frustrated and upset. He scrubbed a hand across his eyes, almost apologetically. "I...I really can't...surely you understand why I can't just..." He ran a hand through his hair helplessly, eyes darting to the ceiling.

The demon set his glass down and moved over to the window.

It was a very old game they played. Crowley was good at his job and Aziraphale was good at the mental gymnastics required to fit through some of the more dubious loopholes. But every now and then they still lost.

He positioned himself in front of the principality, forcing Aziraphale to look at him.

"Angel," he said quietly, as though someone might overhear. "If you want to head home, I'll take you. You know I will. I'd just rather it be because you want to rather than because they would want you to."

Aziraphale looked truly miserable. "Crowley, you've been a marvelous host, you really have, but...I'm so sorry, I..."

Crowley stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. For just a moment the demon's face was soft, genuine. A bit sad but still impossibly fond. "Don't be." He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's late. Get your coat, angel, it's cold out there." He doused the fireplace with a wave and stretched his back out. "Give me a moment to sober up and I'll start the car."

Aziraphale sighed, clearly frustrated at a great many things, but headed for the coat rack while the demon forced the alcohol from his system. "It ought to be fine," he muttered as the wine bottles in the corner finished refilling. "It ought to be fine. I can't explain it, I..."

"It's like someone's standing too close inside your personal space," Crowley finished for him quietly, pulling a coat of his own from the ether. "Like you're driving on the motorway and you end up in the blind spot of a lorry. There's no great outward change but all of a sudden the hairs are up on the back of your neck and your skin is crawling. And you just have this overwhelming sense of this is not a good place to be, get out."

"Yes," Aziraphale murmured unsteadily. "Yes, that's it exactly." His eyes found Crowley's, apologetic, searching.

"It is what it is, angel," he assured him softly. "We have time."

A weight seemed to lift from Aziraphale's shoulders. "I...thank you. Truly." There were things unspoken that Crowley could hear beneath that simple phrase. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being patient with me.

Don't say that, hesitated on the tip of Crowley's tongue. Instinct was, of course, very old and very strong. He swallowed down the words and searched for new ones to replace them.

"You're welcome," he said quietly. The syllables tasted foreign in his mouth.

There was silence in the flat as he buttoned up his coat. Despite the passing months they truly had only moved the barest steps away from where they had been.

They had so very far to go yet.

But it was true. They had time.

"Right." He tried to break the mood as casually as he could, slipping dark glasses on and turning his voice into something light and easy. "Shall we be off then? After you, angel."

The lift ride down was silent, subdued. Something complicated was warring behind the blue eyes and Crowley wasn't going to even begin to touch on it until they were in the car. Aziraphale's steps faltered as he reached the glass doors of the lobby, and Crowley was halfway down the outside stairs before he realized he wasn't following.

"Oi, you coming?"

Aziraphale stared down at the space beyond the door with a peculiar expression: uncertainty and determination and anger and hurt. "I - I don't..." There was a moment of indecision, of frantic debate on his face, then he backed quickly over to the lobby bench and sat down hard.

Crowley pulled his coat tighter about himself as the wind bit through his clothes and ducked back into the building.

Aziraphale held very still, eyes closed and fingers gripping the edge of the bench.

"Angel?"

"Give me a moment. Please."

Crowley paced a cautious half-circle around him, instinctively scanning the principality for damage and the storm beyond the glass wall for threats. Another old habit - nearly useless now but one he wasn't going to be able to drop any time soon. He sat down beside the angel and the lobby was quiet for a very, very long time.

"I think," murmured Aziraphale at last, "if it's all right with you, I'd like to stay."

Crowley studied him closely. "Are you sure?"

"No." Aziraphale met his gaze. "I haven't been sure of much of anything, recently. Not since Tadfield. But I do not want to be forced back to the bookshop tonight."

"Shouldn't force yourself to stay if you're only going to be miserable."

"It's not so bad down here, that's the silly thing. But for some reason the idea of going back upstairs is just..." He laughed wryly. "What a mess I've made of the evening."

"It was a fine evening," Crowley told him earnestly.

"I thought so too, at least until the end there." He straightened, and looked a bit more like himself to Crowley's eyes. "And it's my most sincere hope that, with some more wine and another record, it might be again. Give me a few minutes. I think I can work up to it."

The demon took his glasses off and studied him closely. The determination in those eyes, the set of that jaw, were so familiar they hurt. There was a nervousness there, but there was a stubbornness as well. Like the glacier: slow, steady, but deep down so, so strong.

Crowley reached behind himself and retrieved a pair of full wine glasses that suddenly and thoughtfully decided to exist. "You know, I reckon..." he said quietly, handing one to Aziraphale, "that these will taste just as good right here as they would upstairs."

Aziraphale blinked. Glanced from his glass to the demon to the lift and back again. And his expression softened considerably.

"And if music and wine is what it takes to hang onto your company for a little longer, I s'pose that's the sacrifice I'll have to make, won't I?" He sat his phone down beside him and with a few taps Mozart began to play from its speakers.

Aziraphale stared deep into his wine glass, a smile spreading across his face that he didn't seem quite ready to share with the world yet. "A little unorthodox, isn't it?"

"And?" Crowley shrugged. "Last I checked, there's no protocol on our side."

"So there isn't. Do you know, I think I like that about it."

The demon lowered his voice. "Say the word any time, you know. We'll go, no questions asked."

"I know." Aziraphale let out a long breath and settled back onto cushions that were suddenly far more plush than anything the lobby bench had seen before. "But at the moment I'd rather be here."

The storm howled beyond the glass wall but the central heating vent behind them kept any stray chills at bay. They sat in gentle silence for a long time.

Piano Sonata No. 14 wound through the room, mingling with the warmth and the wine to kindle a sense of calm: a concoction of human magic that miracles, for all their power, could never replicate. Clever things, those humans.

Crowley traced a finger around the rim of his glass. "Can I ask what changed your mind?" he asked softly.

Aziraphale gazed off into the distance for a moment before looking back to his companion. "It was the 'you're welcome', funnily enough. You've always objected so vehemently to being thanked before."

"Yeah, well..." Crowley took another sip of his drink so as not to meet Aziraphale's eyes. "Like being in the blind spot of a lorry."

Aziraphale nodded. "It's..." He trailed off. Took a swig of wine and swallowed it down hard, as though for courage. "It's a comfort," he admitted so quietly that Crowley had to strain to hear him. "To know that it's not just me."

Crowley pursed his lips. "Not by a long shot, no" he confessed, equally quiet.

"I know accepting gratitude doesn't come easy to you. But you managed, tonight."

"It isn't a footrace, angel. I'm not asking you to keep pace with me."

"I know that. And I'm grateful. It's just... seeing you be brave makes me feel like...like I can be as well."

That smile was tugging at the edge of Crowley's mouth again. He reached out and clinked the edge of his glass with Aziraphale's. "Course you can be. Always have been."

The angel smiled back at him, warm and glowing and grateful, just the faintest hint of pink darkening his cheeks. With a daring Crowley had only seen behind the safety of closed doors and wine bottles, he placed a hand on the bench between them, palm up. 

Crowley took it.

Meeting him in the middle, as always.

"Careful, angel," the demon murmured in his ear. "Remember, you don't know where I've been."

Aziraphale gave an undignified snort into his wine glass and their laughter echoed throughout the lobby.

The storm raged cold outside, but here, in their own little in-between place, they were warm.