#( ii. HIC )

[tex-now]

Mephone4 was actually relaxed.... For once... at the finale of season 3... And then he. Lost everything.

[drakyns]

@loptdyr ; plotted starter for toothless. ♡

ㅤ“all right, big guy, on three—now, hold on!” and just as they were about to start their race, hiccup stopped in his tracks, watching as the o-so-feared night fury stumbled forward, almost falling off the hill. he raised his hands in a guiding stance, almost like a teacher would do. if teachers were generally reluctant about getting their bodies crushed by the weight of men’s nightmares, also known as his draconic companion that ate a bit too much fish compared to others, that was. håkan raised his index as if both of them were making a promise of their competition to odin himself: “remember the rules, okay? no fire-spitting allowed, i still can’t figure out how to make fireproof vests.” quickly, he bolted up another finger: “and no biting!” a grumble—if from hiccup or toothless was unclear.

ㅤlooking down on the hill, the soon-to-be chieftain analysed his possible escape routes, trying to make mental drawings of his options. gods, why did he come up with this idea? from his throat, a raspy voice grouched a chuckle: “this is just to see how well i can do on a surface chase. juuust in case, haha. hah…” yeah, being an overplanner and overthinker was a curse. the twinkling excitement in those big reptile eyes was almost encouraging, though. he took a deep breath.

ㅤ“all right,” he smiled once more, setting himself in a position to run. “ready? one… two… three… go!”

[consultingsister]

Holmes International Consultants (HIC)

Founded in 1919 by Cecelia’s great-grandfather, Holmes International Consultants (HIC) began as a small, family-run advisory firm in the wake of the First World War. Officially registered as Holmes Consultancy, it marked the Holmes family’s transition from discreet advisors to European royalty and political elites into a formidable global enterprise. The aim was clear: to turn influence into industry, converting generations of whispered counsel into a lucrative network of powerbrokers. Over the decades, HIC evolved into an intricate web of both legal and covert operations. Its public-facing persona projects an image of a high-level consultancy firm specialising in strategic partnerships, conflict mediation, and international relations. Behind closed doors, however, HIC operates as a shadow organisation, a global nexus where governments, corporations, and clandestine networks negotiate deals that shape the world. Whether brokering arms agreements, influencing elections, or managing sensitive intelligence exchanges, HIC thrives in the spaces where law meets expedience.

Historical Growth and Evolution

HIC’s success was built on its reliance on backchannels, a tradition of favours, personal connections, and discreet agreements. This ethos of influence and discretion catapulted the company to new heights during the mid-20th century. By the 1940s, HIC began diversifying its operations, leveraging its network to establish footholds in emerging industries. This expansion laid the groundwork for the creation of the Holmes Group in 1981, a conglomerate that spun off to handle the family’s more overt business interests. While the Holmes Group manages global ventures in sectors ranging from telecommunications and defence to luxury goods and technology, HIC remains firmly under the family’s control, operating with a distinct separation. Its independence ensures the freedom to handle matters that transcend legality, morality, and jurisdiction—where influence can dictate outcomes more effectively than law.

Structure and Operations

As of 2023, HIC is valued at an estimated $133 billion, with an unparalleled reach into the political, corporate, and criminal underworlds. The organisation’s operations are intentionally opaque, making it impossible to discern its full influence or the true scope of its activities. Officially, HIC employs a global network of legal consultants, political strategists, and intelligence experts. Unofficially, it is known to have ties to espionage networks, arms dealers, and organised crime syndicates. The company operates through a decentralised model, with regional hubs in London, New York, Dubai, and Hong Kong. These hubs are staffed with individuals capable of navigating high-stakes negotiations, discreetly resolving conflicts, and manipulating markets. While its inner workings remain largely secret, HIC is known to use shell corporations, offshore accounts, and an extensive network of intermediaries to mask its less savoury activities.

Leadership

HIC has always been a family enterprise, with its leadership firmly in the hands of the Holmes lineage. Until 2022, the company was helmed by Morland Holmes, whose tenure saw both consolidation and expansion of HIC’s influence. In 2023, Cecelia Holmes assumed the role of CEO, marking a new chapter in the company’s history. Known for her charisma and cunning, Cecelia has already begun to reshape HIC’s strategies, modernising its operations while maintaining the core principles of discretion and power that define its legacy.

Influence and Power

Holmes International Consultants exists in a grey space—neither wholly legitimate nor entirely illicit. It functions as both puppet master and fixer, resolving disputes between rival governments, facilitating clandestine arms deals, and ensuring the survival of fragile regimes. Its reach is bolstered by its close ties to the Holmes Group, a publicly listed conglomerate with a combined market capitalisation of $212 billion across 22 companies as of March 2022. While the Holmes Group and HIC are officially separate, the former’s resources often serve as a front or cover for the latter’s operations, creating a seamless flow between legitimate industry and covert activity. This duality ensures that the Holmes family remains untouchable, their power rooted not just in wealth but in their ability to pull the strings of the world’s most influential players.

Reputation

To the outside world, Holmes International Consultants is a prestigious consultancy firm, sought after by governments and multinational corporations alike. To those in the know, it is a dangerous force—an organisation that operates beyond borders, beyond morality, and beyond reproach. HIC doesn’t merely react to global events; it orchestrates them.

[cohues]

can you guys please tell me it's okay i didnt get the hiyori 5star and she'll be there in the memorial coin shop eventually

[elirluna]

kim benimle gelir

[drakyns]

ㅤcute was one way to put it—adorably hilarious was another. the way the big, fearsome night fury strutted around, trying to keep his protege balanced between his floppy ears was a sight hiccup wished he could draw on the book of dragons. he chuckles then, whispering in the princess’ ear so his dragon doesn’t hear his teasing: “do you think pascal believes toothless is his dad or something?” or maybe a big brother? could be. maybe pascal was a dragon in another life—the thought was so amusing. toothless seemed to have other plans, though, as he adjusted himself with his new hat-friend on a makeshift sleeping spot.

@drakyns s.c

"Heyyy   -   ....Hiccup,   look!"   Rapunzel   exclaimed,   giving   the   Viking   a   playful   nudge   pon   his   shoulder. 

 Once   she   had   his   full   attention,   a   single   digit   pointed   with   delight   towards   Pascal,   who   was   happily   perched   on   Toothless's   head.   "I   think   they're   becoming   BEST   friends!   Isn't   that   just   the   cutest?"   she   squealed.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

feixiao. M16A1. Need drunk women who love rambling on about their S/O

(H:SR/GFL) Feixiao and M16A1 drunk rambling on about their S/O

Feixiao is very open with her love about S/O.

Very VERY open as a matter of fact. And that volume only increases when she's drinking.

Whatever S/O wants her to do, they have zero say because Feixiao is not home right now.

And unfortunately(??? Idk I think it's probably safe to assume we'll be into it) for them, PDA conduct goes out the window.

Not that there was much there to begin with it, but now Feixiao is now actively peppering S/O with kisses.

(Feixiao) "You're...so pretty! Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"

(S/O) "C-CAN'T BREATHE!"

If there was someone in the room with them, she'd essentially drag them over and point at them.

(Feixiao) "S-SEE THIS PERSON?! THIS PERSON IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!"

And who exactly is going to have the balls to tell the General this is the 30th time they've shown S/O to them?

Well, plenty of people actually, but there's the question of whether or not she's sober enough to hear or cares enough.

The answer to both is no.

Absolutely no one is going to pry her off of them if she has an arm around S/O. Moze, Jiaoqiu, The Trailblazer, and more are powerless before the General.

Thankfully in her drunken state, she doesn't get TOO handsy in public. At least nothing that'd require them to get a room.

That would be when S/O gets her home.

The moment Feixiao sees the main focus of her affection snuggle into bed with her, seeing them smile and laugh because of her?

(M16A1) "S/OOOOOO!~"

(S/O) "Oh good god..."

M16A1 has once again drank herself to near system shutdown with Jack Daniels, and is somehow coherent enough to see S/O.

If they don't respond to her, she'll stumble over to them, both arms wrapped around them before she nuzzles her head into their neck.

(M16A1) "Hmmmmm...warm! You humans are really cozy to get close to!"

(S/O) "Sixteen, please lower your volume a li-"

(M16A1) "Mwah!~"

M16A1 plants a firm kiss on their neck making S/O shudder before almost collapsing on top of them, shouting loudly enough for everyone in the bar to hear, much to S/O's horror.

(M16A1) "IF ANYONE TOUCHES MY S/O! I'LL...I'LL...Uh..."

(M4 SOPMOD II's Voice) "KICK THEIR BUTT!"

(M4A1's Voice) "SOPMOD, don't encourage her!-"

(M16A1) "YEAH! KICK YOUR ASS!"

It's up to S/O to carry M16A1 out of the bar and back to their dorm, due to the noise complaints she gets.

Though at this point, the bartender is well aware of M16A1, and that's not even because of S/O. It's just everything else about her in general.

And in the hallways, she's still going on.

(M16A1) "And the way you frown is- hic! ...S-Super hot!"

S/O can only blush in retaliation, as no words will actually reach her.

M4A1 is with S/O and her sister, helping pry M16A1 off them.

(S/O) "Thanks."

(M16A1) "Nooooo!~ Bring them back to me!"

(M4A1) "Hush, you. I thought I told you not to drink so much tonight!"

(S/O) sigh "...M4, can you help me carry her to my room? I'm sorry to ask you-"

(M16A1) "YEAAAAH!-"

M16A1 nearly falls on her face before her sister catches her.

(M4A1) "Hah, I guess I'd be struggling to wrangle her otherwise..."

(M16A1) "Only thing I'm wrangling around is-"

(S/O & M4A1) "SIXTEEN!"

[llamaqueenprompt]

Red Flags and Blushes . Part III

Characters: Max Verstappen, Reader

Not Requested

Word Count: 1.0k

Part I Part II Part III - Complete

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Y/n was doing everything she could to avoid him.

After that night - the storage closet, the reckless kisses, the way she’d let herself feel too much - she had made a decision.

A stupid, painful, necessary decision.

She couldn’t do this.

Couldn’t risk it.

Couldn’t risk him.

So she kept her head down, pretended to be busy, ducked out of rooms when she heard his voice. If she absolutely had to speak to him, she kept it clipped and professional, like he was just another driver.

Max wasn’t stupid.

And he wasn’t patient.

By the end of the third day, Y/n could feel the storm brewing behind her every time she turned her back on him.

She was reviewing race data in one of the smaller conference rooms when it finally happened.

The door slammed shut behind her, hard enough to make her jump.

She whipped around, and there he was.

Max.

Tight jaw. Blazing eyes. Still in his race suit, the collar unzipped, hair messy from the helmet. He looked like he’d just stepped oof the track, adrenaline still crackling under his skin.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

The tension was suffocating.

Y/n’s heart hammered painfully in her chest. She gripped the edge of the table, forcing herself to stay still.

Max took a slow step toward her. “You gonna keep pretending I don’t exist?” he asked, voice low and dangerous.

Y/n swallowed hard. “I’m working.”

“Bullshit.”

Another step closer. The air around them grew heavy, electric.

Y/n forced herself to look at the laptop screen, her fingers trembling slightly. “This was a mistake,” she said quietly. “We said…”

“I don’t care what you said,” Max cut in, sharper now. “You don’t get to pretend like that night didn’t happen.”

“It was nothing,” she lied, the words scraping against her throat.

Max laughed, bitter and disbelieving. “Nothing?”

He was standing right in front of her now, close enough that she could smell the faint traces of fuel and leather… and his skin, warm and infuriatingly familiar.

“Funny,” he murmured, tilting his head, “because when you were moaning my name against that door, it sure didn’t sound like nothing.”

Y/n flinched. “Don’t.”

Max’s face softened… barely. He reached out, brushing hic knuckles down her arm so gently it hurt.

“You’re scared,” he said, voice dropping low.

“I’m being smart,” she whispered, hating the way her throat tightened.

Max shook his head. “You’re running.”

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look at the way he meant it when he said things like that.

“Max…” she breathed, her voice breaking.

“You think pushing me away is gonna make this easier?” he asked, voice raw now. “Because it’s not. For either of us.”

He leaned in even closer, so close that she could feel his breath against her skin. She shivered involuntarily.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Max said roughly. “You show up in my head at the worst fucking times. Before a race. After. In the middle of the night when I’m trying to sleep.”

Y/n bit her lip hard enough to taste blood.

“You’re in my head too much,” he whispered, almost angrily. “And you’re just gonna act like it didn’t happen?”

She blinked rapidly, fighting the tears burning her eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to get complicated,” she admitted, voice barely there.

Max’s hand cupped her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His touch was firm but heartbreakingly gentle.

“It’s already complicated, liefje,” he said. “You can either run from it, or you can fucking stay and deal with it.”

Y/n made a soft, wounded noise in her throat. She hated that he was right. Hated that her body ached for him even while her brain screamed at her to run.

“You deserve better than this,” she whispered. “You deserve someone who isn’t scared.”

“I don’t want someone else,” Max snapped. “I want you.”

Y/n’s cheat cracked open at the rawness in his voice.

No games. No pretending. Just brutal, terrifying honesty.

And she realized. She wasn’t scared of him.

She was scared of how much she wanted this.

Wanted him.

Max’s thumb brushed across her cheekbone, catching a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. His eyes softened immediatly.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice breaking. “Don’t cry.”

Y/n let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Max smiled, a real smile this time, soft and a little self-deprecating. “Means you care.”

“I do,” she said before she could stop herself. “That’s the problem.”

“No,” Max said quietly, leaning in until foreheads touched. “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve heard all week.”

Y/n laughed wetly, a small, broken sound. She let herself sag against him, and Max wrapped his arms around her instantly, anchoring her.

“I’m gonna crew this up,” she mumbled into his chest.

Max kissed the top od her head. “We both will.”

He tilted her chin up with two fingers, his eyes searching hers.

“But I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, voice fierce.

Y/n closed the last inch between them, finally, finally pressing her lips to his.

It was messy, all teeth and desperation at first, but then it softened into something slow, reverent. Max kissed her like she was aomething precious, something he didn’t know he was allowed to have but was damn well going to fight for anyway.

When they pulled apart, Emma was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed, her heart slamming against her ribs.

Max grinned at her, forehead resting against hers again.

“You’re blushing,” he teased softly.

Emma groaned and buried her face in his chest. “Shut up.”

Max just laughed, the sound low and delighted, and held her tighter.

Neither of them said anything for a long time.

[cinematic-literature]

Gladiator II (2024) by Ridley Scott

Hanno recites some verses upon Caracalla's request of commenting the fight he's just won.

The original verses are from Book VI (126-129) of Aeneid: they're part of a prophecy Aeneas receives from the Cumaean Sybil, priestess presiding over the Apollonian oracle at Cumae, near Naples

Facilis descensus Averno;

Noctes atque dies patet atri ianua Ditis;

Sed revocare

Gradum superasque evadere ad auras,

Hoc opus, hic labor est

The English translation is

Easy is the descent to Avernus;

Night and day the door of gloomy Dis stands open;

But to recall

One's steps and pass out to the upper air,

This is the task, this is the toil

Dante Alighieri took the concept of Dis (originally Pluto, the god presiding Avernus, the pagan afterlife) and used it as a synonym for Lucifer; as a matter of fact, the lowest part of hell in the Divina Commedia is called "città di Dite" (city of Dis), in opposition to "città di Dio", that is Heaven.

[admiral-mason]

Reader trolling Acolytes in various ways

I apologize for my inactiveness (studying and stuff) so here's a quick little post I came up with.

Oh and I also finished this thing on Canva:

Benjamin my favorite apocalypse-ending machine indeed

Next machine will be even bigger

Also, me next post might involve requests from you lot, so watch for that!

And I also might write something on Forest Island x SAGAU because @floofeh-purpi showed it to me

And got me addicted to another idle game

But until then enjoy some random thoughts I have based on characters' preferences (according to the wiki)

Reader is Gender Neutral

Warning: Characters may or may not be out of character since I'm writing for characters I don't usually write

No banner this time because I don't know what's good banner material for this post so have this instead:

So, Yelan likes spicy foods (go to the "Favorite Food" and "Receiving a Gift: II" voicelines):

So reader dares her to eat something that may leave even the truest of spice-lovers crying.

[Name]: Hey Yelan.

Yelan: Hmm? Yes, your grace?

[Name]: Eat these.

Yelan: Hm, these look like Jueyun Chilis, but... almost agitated? In a way.

[Name]: They're called Carolina Reapers, one of the spiciest peppers from my world.

(A/N: For those who need a run-down read this Wikipedia article)

(A/N 2: Yes I know it's Wikipedia but you can do a google search if you don't trust it.)

Yelan: How hot?

[Name]: Very. :)

Yelan: Hmm, lemme try... *eats one*

Yelan: ...Almost fruity! Not bad-

10 seconds later

Yelan: OH MY ARCHON THIS IS *COUGH* HORRIBLE!

*Cue you and Yelan running around trying to find anything cold she can gobble down*

[Name]: *sees Chongyun about to eat a popsicle* Gimme that!

Chongyun: Your grace-?! *notices Yelan but her face is red, sweating, and visibly in distress*

Yelan: *gobbles the popsicle like a madwoman* I NEED MORE!!!

[Name]: ...This was a terrible idea.

1 hour later

[Name]: Man I'm sorry Yelan, how can I make it up to you?

Yelan: ... *smirks evilly*

Yelan: *holds up the rest of the Carolina Reapers* Eat them.

[Name]: Well shit.

(Don't question where I get these images from)

Warning: reader is assumed to be of legal age to order alcohol (idfk how drinking ages work since it's 21 in America but it's 16 in Germany, at least for some beer and wine)

Venti: *drunk as frick as usual* Another drink, please~! *hic*

Diluc: You're drunk enough as is. Also your previous tabs...

Venti: I can play another *hic* song...

[Name]: Hi Diluc, can I get some Dandelion Wine, please?

Diluc: *is surprised by [Name] usually ordering something non-alcoholic but doesn't question them* Sure, your grace. *Preps the drink and hands it to [Name]*

[Name]: *Takes the drink once Diluc's done* Thanks. *Looks at Venti before sliding the drink to them* Here you go, Venti.

Venti: *looks at the drink, before looking at [Name], then back at the drink, then back at [Name], and then smirks*

Diluc: ...

If anyone else has any other ideas [Name]/Reader can troll people in Teyvat lemme know in the comments below! (that rhymes lmao)

[lisupandowntown]

The Break, Part II

A/N: special thanks to @writing-whump for listening to me babble instead of going up to bed earlier. Hope you enjoy this when you wake up later. Also, you convinced me to write a short ficlet with Rory's POV before I get to my plan for Adam to catch the bug next and be a little bitch because - Avery.

“What do you mean, you left Rory?”  Gabe stared at his sister in confusion.  “Where’d you leave him?”  It was 7 pm on a Monday night and normally Gabe wouldn’t even be home from work yet.  But Logan had texted him earlier that she was tired and going home and on a whim Gabe had decided to leave with her and finish working from his apartment.  Now Logan was curled up under a big blanket on his sofa drowsily watching reruns of Modern Family and Gabe was making them gluten free grilled cheese in his new panini press.  Or, he had been making gluten free grilled cheese until Noa texted that she was in the lobby and needed to come up.

Now she was standing in the doorway, her announcement lingering in the air along with the smell of his neighbor’s Italian takeout. The elevator dinged and Noa jumped, her eyes dragging back the direction she’d come.  A woman talking on a cellphone got off and walked briskly down the hall in the opposite direction.  Noa sagged but made no other effort to move. 

“Well come in, then.”  Gabe grabbed his sister’s arm and pulled her inside his apartment.  Now that he could see Noa properly he thought she looked terrible.  Not only terrible, though - shell shocked. And as soon as she started telling them what had happened, Gabe understood why.  

The part about Rory not wanting her to work with a group of drug addicts wasn’t surprising.  He hadn’t been exactly quiet about wanting to keep Noa the hell away from Damian Smith.  Her working with an entire group of Smiths? There was no way Rory would be voluntarily okay with that. 

And of course Noa wanted - even insisted-  that she was going to treat that group.  They needed a lot of help and his sister was going to give it.  Gabe privately wondered if it was Noa’s way of proving she was okay, by helping the kind of people who’d hurt her.  

So none of that was a surprise.  But Rory putting his foot down and Noa walking out?  Gabe had no words for how he felt about that.  And apparently neither did Noa. Sure, words spilled out of her mouth in a singsong stream, but it was clear she had no idea what she meant to say.

“I shouldn’t have left; I shouldn’t have left; I shouldn’t have.  I should have just . . . what? What should I have . . . What? Done? Should’ve talked more?” She stuttered and paced and looked pleadingly at him and Logan.

“What did you . . “ Gabe began, and then stopped, unsure of what he wanted to tell her.  Noa kept babbling as if he’d not spoken.

“But I don’t know what I could have said that would change his . . . I mean, he wanted me to be the one to . . .and I couldn��t.  I just couldn’t.  Not just because it’s my job, but this group . . .”  She finally stopped walking and looked back and forth between Gabe and Logan.  “I really want to work with them.”

Gabe locked eyes with his girlfriend.  So far he’d only understood about half of what his sister was saying and he hoped Logan would have a better question to ask.  Preferably one that didn’t imply that Noa had made some monumental mistake by walking out.  Rory too, for that matter, for letting her go.  What the hell had he been thinking?

“Did he . . .hic . . . ‘scuse me,” Logan began.  She rubbed roughly at her chest and worked up a soft burp.  

Gabe’s phone dinged and Noa froze.  “Is that . . .” 

“Rory, yeah.”  The message - is she there - said he already knew the answer.  “What should I tell him?”  

“Tell him . . .”  Noa grabbed at her face for a second.  “What should I tell him?”  She looked at Logan for an answer.  “I mean, he should know where I am at least, right?  So he doesn’t worry?” 

Logan nodded slowly.  “At least that,” she agreed. “And then . . .umm . . .” Her stomach gurgled suddenly and she palmed her side.  Gabe jumped up.

“You’re hungry.  Hold on and I'll finish the grilled cheese.”  It was something to do while he tried to get his head around the fact that his sister was standing here in his living room and she’d just walked out on Rory when Gabe barely knew how to think of them other than as a single unit.  

“It’s okay, go ahead and . . . ahem . . . text Rory back first.”  Logan cleared her throat with a harsh cough.  

“What do I say?”  Gabe didn’t know if he was asking his girlfriend or his sister.  He felt supremely out of his element.  Noa was pacing again and seemed to be waiting for one of them to make a decision.  So he turned to the sofa.

“Lo?  What should I say?” He figured she’d know; she was an expert at figuring out relationship stuff with him, after all.  But instead of telling him what to do, Logan just shrugged.  

“Maybe, umm . . . hiccurrRP!”  Logan’s body jumped with a deep hiccup that turned into a kind of a burp at the end.  She blew out a breath.  “Tell him she’s here,” I guess.”  Her eyes darted around the room.  “D’you know where my sparkling water is?” 

Gabe went to his refrigerator to get Logan a new can of LaCroix just as his phone dinged a second time.  “He texted again,” he told his sister. 

“Tell him I’m here, and I’m okay.”  Noa wrung her hands together.  “Or not that I’m okay . . . maybe just that I’m staying here tonight; is that all right?”

Gabe automatically looked at his girlfriend.  It was his apartment, sure, but she’d left work early because she was tired and he knew she’d been looking forward to a quiet night. Which this clearly wasn’t going to be.  His phone started ringing.  

“Fuck.”  Noa stared at the screen, where Rory’s name and photo were now flashing.  “What should you . . ?”

“Don’t answer but text . . . hrrup . . . text him back,” Logan ordered through another hiccup.  Gabe looked at his sister for confirmation.  After a second she gave a small nod.

“Tell him I can’t talk right now,” she said quietly.  

Feeling like an absolute ass, Gabe disconnected the call and sent Rory the text.  Almost immediately his screen began lighting up with words, the ding ding ding of incoming messages sounding too loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

“I’m surprised he’s not texting you too,” he told his sister. Her lips tightened.  

“I turned off my phone on my way here,” she admitted.  “I . . . I didn’t want to see.”  Her eyes darted to Gabe’s phone and then just as quickly away.  “What’s he . . .no.” She shook her head. “D-don’t tell me.”  

And then, right there, Noa began to crumble.  “Oh god, I shouldn’t have left.”   She whirled around and looked back and forth between Gabe and Logan.  “It was a mistake, wasn’t it? I should have stayed, and should have made him . . .what? Talk?  We could have talked more, right?” she pleaded.   But instead I just . . .”  

Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, disappearing into the collar of her sweatshirt.  Her words came out in choking gasps as she got more worked up.  “I . . .I. . . panicked.  I just . . . and he was . . . and fuck, he wasn’t even feeling well.”  She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and stared at both of them, horrified.  “He had an upset stomach - indigestion - and I . . . I walked out on him.  I fucking walked out on him while he was sick!”  Noa collapsed in a chair and buried her head in her hands, beginning to cry in earnest.  

Gabe looked helplessly at Logan.  To be honest, he’d expected his girlfriend to be more invested in the situation. There was an odd frown on her face, as if she’d smelled something bad and was trying to figure out where it was coming from.  And he still hadn’t gotten her dinner.  

“Let me get your grilled cheese; then we can figure this out.”  Noa was still crying and Gabe’s phone was still dinging with texts and right now feeding his girlfriend felt like the only thing he knew how to do. So he ran off to the kitchen to escape the feeling that the world was tilting.

After putting the sandwiches back in the panini press to warm, he finally dared to look at a few of Rory’s messages.  There were 23 of them and from Gabe’s first look it sounded like Rory was in a very similar state as his girlfriend.  I shouldn’t have let her leave . . . I just can’t believe . . . but I don’t know what to tell her; I hate the thought of her . . . was puking so I couldn’t even go after her.

Gabe was certainly not going to tell his sister that Rory had actually gotten sick over her leaving. He was about to text him back - something simple that would hopefully not escalate things any further - when he got a text from Avery.  

AMorrison: I’m going to Rory; you’re good with Noa?  Not sure if I’m going to smack him or let him cry on my shoulder.

Gabe let out a shaky exhale and responded.  About the same here. I don’t know what to think. He started to type more but then stopped.  Morrison was a really good guy, but still, Gabe didn’t know him that well.  Definitely not well enough to pour out his own worry and frustration about his best friend and his sister.  So instead he added a keep me posted and then quickly sent two other texts. 

Back in the living room, Noa had mostly stopped crying.  She was sniffling and grasping her phone so that Gabe knew she was trying to decide whether to turn it back on.  Logan was still curled up on the sofa and when Gabe put a plate with the grilled cheese on the coffee table in front of her, she gave a small grimace.

“I’m actually feeling a little . . . queasy,” she confessed quietly. Her body jolted with a soft hiccup.  “Don’t really want to eat anything.”  

“Oh no, sweetheart.”  Now that Gabe looked closer, he realized Logan was pale and clammy looking.  It was a little more than a week since he’d had the stomach flu, but Drew and Rory had been sick since then too.  He rested his hand on Logan’s cheek.  “Do you want to go lie down?  There wasn’t much to do besides ride out the illness but maybe she could sleep through some of it.

Logan delicately shook her head.  “I’d better . . . stay,” she gulped, glancing at Noa.  “But can you get rid of . . . this?” She gestured weakly at the plate Gabe had just put down.

“Shit, yeah, hold on.” He picked up the grilled cheese.  “Do you want another LaCroix?”  

“No; I’m already too full.”  Logan wrapped the blanket more tightly around her.  “Gonna try to help your sister; maybe it’ll distract me.”  As if to prove her point, Logan carefully slid down to the other end of the sofa next to where Noa was on the loveseat - blanket and all.  

“How are you doing?” she asked the other girl carefully.  Gabe could hear the nausea in his girlfriend’s voice. He wished he could take her to bed but to be honest, he wasn’t sure how to deal with his sister by himself at the moment.  Part of him wanted to grab Noa and drag her back to Rory.  Force the two of them to figure it out while he came back here to take care of his sick girlfriend.  Rory and Noa never fought; it couldn’t be that hard for them to continue to not fight right now.

Logically, Gabe knew it didn’t work like that.  But it didn’t stop him from wishing it would.

He was dumping his and Logan’s sandwiches in the trash when the buzzer rang at his door. Thank fucking god. 

Adam barely acknowledged Gabe.  “She in the living room?” he asked briskly before striding into the apartment and right up to Noa as if he was her personal life manager and relationship god.  And for all Gabe knew, that might be one of his areas of expertise.  Adam’s ego was huge, but the guy actually did know a lot about a lot.  Maybe he would know how to put Noa and Rory back together.

But instead of insisting that Noa suck it up and go back home to talk things out with her boyfriend, Adam dumped his coat on a chair and sunk down onto the loveseat next to her. “You did the right thing; Rory was overreacting.” Adam grabbed both of her hands.  

Gabe had no idea how his brother already knew what was going on; the text he’d sent had had the barest details.  But he seemed all caught up. Noa sniffled.

“He’s just worried,” Noa protested weakly.  “I . . . I shouldn’t have just dumped it on him like that.  I should have realized he’d . . .”

“Hey now, no blaming yourself.”  Adam took Noa’s cheeks in his hands and forced her to look at him.  “Rory’s a big boy and a fucking FBI agent, right? He’s more than capable of understanding that you’re not in danger.  Whether chooses to recognize that or not is his own problem, not yours.” 

“It’s . . . it’s our problem,” Noa sniffed. “I knew he was still upset about everything with Damian Smith.  I should have guessed how he’d react.  I could have handled it so differently.” Her face twisted.  “We could have talked more, instead of my walking out.  What the fuck was I thinking?”  Her voice broke and she began crying fresh tears. 

Personally, Gabe agreed with her, but Adam rolled his eyes in Gabe’s direction.  It was a look the two of them had shared probably hundreds of times when they were younger, whenever Rory and Noa were being just too . . . Rory and Noa for them to deal with.  But Gabe couldn’t remember any time it had been because the couple was in a fight.  Usually Rory would be ridiculous and overprotective and Noa would lean into it and let him, and everyone else would give them shit.  

Noa made a sudden, convulsive gesture.  “Give it back, Adam,” she growled, and Gabe saw that he’d taken her phone and was holding it out of reach.  

Adam shook his head.  “Not if you’re going to read all his whiny, pleading texts and want to go running back there.  Here, catch.”  He tossed the phone in Gabe’s direction.  

Gabe jerked to the side and barely caught it before it landed on the coffee table.  “A little warning next time,” he groused.  At some point Noa had turned it back on and it vibrated in his hand.  Before he could help it, he read the words that popped up on her lock screen. Please Noe, please just talk to me - I can’t stand this.  

Noa caught him looking. “What’s it say? He’s all alone; please let me respond to him.” Noa raised herself halfway off the sofa and Adam pulled her back down with a chiding don’t even try it.

“Avery’s there,” Gabe answered distractedly.  There had been a sudden quiet burp from the sofa and he was more focused on that and the way the pile of blankets wrapped around his girlfriend jumped. 

“Of fucking course he’s there.”  Adam’s voice was bitter but Gabe ignored his siblings and sat down next to Logan..  “How are you feeling?” he asked softly, wrapping his arms around her.  This close, he could hear her gulp down before she answered.  “Nauseous,” she muttered.  “But hanging in there.”  Her eyes flicked to Adam and Noa.  “Don’t give her the . . . urhp . . . phone yet.” 

“Why can’t I have my phone?” Noa turned her attention away from Adam.  “C’mon Logan, I figured you’d be on my side.”

“I . . . hic . . . I am.  I am on your side.”  Logan exhaled a shaky breath.  “If you go running back to Rory tonight what’ll happen?”  She hiccuped again and rubbed her chest.  

Noa sighed, apparently too caught up in her own misery to notice Logan’s.  “I’d probably give in,” she agreed.  “But maybe that’s . . . “

“Stop right there,” Adam commanded.  “You were about to say that maybe that’s for the best and if you do, I’m going to have to smack you.” 

“Who’s smacking who now?”  Gabe hadn’t even heard Jeremiah come in but suddenly there he was in the living room.  The man caught his eye and gave a tiny shake of his head.  Rory was in bad shape. Gabe grimaced to himself, relieved Avery was over there at least. He didn’t want to think about what his best friend was going through right now, although he had a fairly good idea.  Gabe was going to support his sister, of course, but unlike Adam, he didn’t believe that meant leaving Rory high and dry.  They’d been best friends for over twenty years,  and no matter what he’d said to Noa, Gabe refused to believe that Rory had meant it.

Noa got up from her seat and threw herself into Jeremiah’s arms. “Did I make a mistake?” she asked him, sounding miserable  “He told me he didn’t want me to go to work tomorrow and I just . . . lost it..”  She pulled on Jeremiah’s sweater.  “I knew he was upset about Smith but never thought that meant he’d . . .Did you have any idea?” 

Jeremiah shook his head.  His eyes had flicked to Logan while Noa was speaking and then over to Gabe.  Gabe mouthed I got her, and gestured him to answer his sister.  

“I’m not entirely surprised at Rory’s reaction, but mostly because I’ve been watching you for the past weeks, sweetheart.”  Jeremiah walked Noa back to the sofa and then sat down on the coffee table so he was facing both her and Logan. “You haven’t liked how worried he’s been - unreasonably worried - and it’s made you . . . well at the courthouse it made you sick.”  

“Noa got sick?” Gabe was startled.  “When?”  Did Rory know?”

“Of course he didn’t know,” Noa answered impatiently.  “He was already wound so tightly; do you think I was going to tell him it was making me nauseous?”  She shook her head.  “I didn’t like feeling like Smith was going to be constantly looking over my shoulder; like I had to be scared and cautious all the time.”  Her voice grew softer.  “And . . . Rory . . . he made me feel like I did.”  

The confession had obviously been a lot.  Noa dropped her head in her hands and started to cry again.

“He shouldn’t,” Adam said roughly.  He scooted over to put his arm around his sister.  “He shouldn’t have made you feel like that.” 

“I don’t know if he realized,” responded Jeremiah mildly, and Gabe was relieved he’d said so.  The doctor’s eyes flickered back to Logan and rested there for a longer moment.  She’d started burping softly under her breath and Gabe wasn’t sure if they were involuntary or she was forcing them up on purpose.  

“Not feeling so hot, sweetheart?” he asked, reaching forward to cup Logan’s cheeks. “Have you vomited?”  

Noa looked startled.  “You’re sick?” She turned and for the first time seemed to really see Logan clearly.  “Shit, you’re white as a sheet; why didn’t you say something?” 

Logan gave a small shrug.  “You . . .uhhlp . . . had a lot going on,” she finished weakly, fingers against her lips.  She gagged slightly and then looked around the room.

Gabe knew what she needed.  “Here.”  He shoved the cup of water he’d been drinking from into her hand.  “Spit in this and then I’m taking you to the bathroom.”  

“Good idea,” agreed Jeremiah.  “And while I’m confident in your ability to comfort your girlfriend while she throws up, I’d be a terrible excuse for a doctor if I didn’t come with you.”  He stood up and held out his hand to Logan  “We’ll take it slow.”

Noa stood up too.  “And I’m already a terrible excuse for a friend because I didn’t even notice.”  Her voice sounded more determined than it had since she’d arrived.  “I’m coming too.” 

“You don’t . . . UrrRHRUP . . . have to,” panted Logan through a thick, wet burp.  “Oh god,” she moaned.  “I hate the stomach flu.”  

Jeremiah chuckled  “Drew said the same thing when he had it.  C’mon now.”  Gabe got on Logan’s other side and helped her slowly shuffle down the hall.

“Well hell, if everyone else is going to camp out in the bathroom I guess I will too.”  Adam stood up and followed the group.  

In his arms, Logan gave a queasy chuckle.  “I’ve never had such a big . . . hic . . . audience for puking.”  

“As long as you don’t mind,” Gabe told her.  Logan shook her head.  “I think it’s good for . . . urrp . . . Noa.”  After she finished with the burp she glanced back where the other woman was following them.  Noa nodded.

“I’m not going home tonight,” she announced grimly.  “I may as well be useful here.”  

Gabe wasn’t sure what had changed his sister’s attitude but she seemed to have come to some sort of decision and didn’t look quite so weepy now.  His own stomach clenched and the question - you’re not breaking up, right? - hovered on his lips.  He shook the thought away.  Of course they weren’t, he told himself.  Don’t be ridiculous, Gabriel. 

But he had no more time to think about that.  Logan had put on pajamas earlier when they’d first gotten home but now she tugged at the waistband of her pants, pushing it down over the swell of her tummy.  “Fuck I’m bloated,” she groaned, lowering herself to the floor of the bathroom. “Any chance I can puke once and then go to sleep?”  

“R-Rory threw up all night when he had it.”  Some of the determination had leached back out of Noa’s tone again.  Her mouth twisted.  “He was pretty miserable; I’m sorry.”  She looked like she wanted to say something else and Gabe saw her eyes darting around.  Probably looking for her phone.  He’d left it on the coffee table and made a mental note to get it again as soon as Logan was feeling a little better.

Because for now she clearly wasn’t.  Jeremiah had knelt down behind her and now he helped her up to her knees so she could retch over the bowl.  Gabe dropped down on her other side and began rubbing her back.  “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed.  “I’ve got you.”  

There was a sudden, harsh cry behind him but Gabe wasn’t in a position to deal with his sister right then because Logan took that moment to begin throwing up.  Vaguely through the sounds of her sickness he could hear Adam’s voice.  Hopefully comforting Noa and not winding her up.  

Logan was shaking and Gabe took the wet washcloth Jeremiah handed him and began wiping her face in between heaves.  

“Why’m I still so nauseous?” she groaned, spitting inelegantly into the bowl and then reaching up a shaky hand to flush.  

“That’s the virus,” explained Jeremiah. “Here, rinse your mouth but don’t swallow; you’re not ready yet.”

“No shit,” grumbled Logan.  A gross, wet burp came up and she hauled herself back over the toilet to gag.  

“Sorry if any of you get this,” apologized Gabe.  “What is she, number four?” 

“I’ve been exposed so many times already I’m probably immune,” chuckled Adam.  “And no, Noa, I’m not giving you your phone back.”

Gabe twisted around.  “When did you. . .?” he began, then stopped.  “Actually, I don’t care.”  Logan was whimpering in between empty gags and sounding completely miserable.  Gabe knew exactly how she felt.  “Are you almost ready to lie down?” he asked.  

Logan spit again.  “Yes please.”  She slumped into his side.  “S-s-sorry I couldn’t help more, Noa,” she rasped.  “But yeah.  Stay here.  Sorry if you end up puking.”  

Noa gave a watery chuckle.  “Wouldn’t be the worst thing that happened to me today. Not by a mile.”

[stylesclarified]

A complete deconstruction: Louis Tomlinson is a terrible songwriter. Part III

So, we arrived at the last part.

Part I was a deconstruction of this idea that Louis wrote "most 1D songs" and "all the bangers." In part II we talked about how little involvement he had in terms of instrumentation, vocal engineering, melodies, etc, of his own albums. How he got given several songs that were already written, and of the other ones, they mostly came together from a melody someone else wrote.

So what's left in terms of songwriting? The one thing he pats himself on the back for, the one thing Liam gave him (partial) credit for, and the one thing he and hic co-writers agree he actually does participate in (participate is a key word): LYRICS.

[Two of his songs get special treatment you can find that post here]

To be fair, we did a little detour so I could analyze Harry's lyrics first and show you what I value and what I'm critical of in terms of songwriting. Keep in mind, opinion about art is meant to be subjective. This is my taste and my opinions, and you can absolutely disagree.

Initially, I intended to do the same breakdown I did for Harry but for Louis. I also intended to do four songs, and do the different points for each of them.

I had to give up halfway through. I analyzed Kill My Mind and We Made It (and I might post that elsewhere so you can see it). I also intended to do Bigger Than Me and Saturdays, but frankly, I'm simply not going to.

Why? It's just BORING. I'm sorry but it's boring as fuck. I do these posts because they entertain me. I LOVE talking about art more than anything. I love poetry, I love this shit. But Louis' lyrics suck the fun out of it. And no, I'm not being dramatic.

I found myself wanting to compare him with better artists who tackled the topics he did in a more interesting, more compelling way, just so I could stop reading his and analyze interesting art instead. I had to stop myself from inserting Adele, Olivia Rodrigo, The Weeknd, Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd, just to name a few.

I found myself irritated, rolling my eyes at my screen.

I had to take so many long breaks, to do literally anything else because the idea of having to analyze his lyrics for two more seconds pained me.

Here's the problem, and I'll break it down for you:

HE'S LAZY.

We're talking about an artist who:

Wears the same outfits and/or the same style of clothes over and over.

Doesn't seem to even brush his hair or do the most minimal effort to look better.

Takes zero care of himself, of his skin, of his hair, of his food intake and diet, of his health.

Doesn't even know his own lyrics.

Has had fourteen years to learn an instrument and to this day hasn't played one live for more than 15 seconds, despite calling himself a musician

Has regressed in terms of vocal capabilities. He could sing better at the beginning of his career with 1D than at the end. And he could sing better at the end of 1D than now.

Doesn't come up with his own melodies, or sometimes, even his own lyrics or concepts.

His idea of an image to project has been "Northern lad from Donny who smokes and curses and gives you the finger and Noel Gallagher and Arctic Monkeys and indie bands" for 8 years with literally zero nuance since then.

Even his photoshoots are lazy. All he does is smolder at the camera wearing some sort of sweatshirt and athletic pants.

His staging is ridiculous, three TVs showing his own zoomed in face in black and white.

He puts zero effort in his career, in his own person, in his own image. I'm 100% sure that I spent more time thinking about his lyrics in the past week than he ever did, and you can absolutely tell.

I tried looking at his rhyming schemes. I compared one song to another, I listened to them (it was painful) trying to find little assonances, and counting syllables to see if he mirrored anything, if he told any stories within them. ANYTHING.

I don't want to cherry pick the worst bits and present them here as a "see, he's bad!" I want my analysis to be fair.

But I simply can't put myself through that. Why?

I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to show you (a concept Louis has never heard of).

RHYMING SCHEMES, CADENCE

[Most times they're either A A B B or A B A B or some slight variation of that. I haven't found a single song where the cadence is thoughtful. To be fair, I'm taking the first verse of the first five songs off each album.]

Album 1, song 1, verse 1:

You're a nightmare on the dance floor And you hate me, and I want more You're a total distraction While I'm waiting for your reaction, why?

A A B B

Album 1, song 2, verse 1

On our way to Twenty Seven Got a place on the other side of London Doing better, doing better And I know you left a part of you In New York under your bed in a box But you're doing better, doing better

???

Album 1, song 4, verse 1 (skipping song 3 because he didn't write it)

Oh my, I remember those nights Meet you at your uni', cheap drinks, drink ’em all night Staying out 'til sunrise Share a single bed and tell each other what we dream about Things we'd never say to someone else out loud We were only kids, just tryna work it out Wonder what they'd think if they could see us now, yeah

A A A B B B B

Album 1, song 5, verse 1

I've been looking back a lot lately Me and you is all I've ever known It’s hard to think you could ever hate me But everything's feeling different now

A B A B

Album 1, song 6, verse 1

Nothing wakes you up like wakin' up alone And all that's left of us is a cupboard full of clothes The day you walked away and took the higher ground Was the day that I became the man that I am now

A A B B

Album 2, song 1, verse 1

Tell you I'm on my way Nothing could make me late Said I had a plan for us Time, it came and changed it all We had to disappear ’Cause nothing gets through here Through that circle 'round my heart Where the best of me should start

A A B C D D E E

This is just a variation of A A B B C C, it's just that two sentences don't rhyme, for seemingly no artistic reason.

Album 2, song 2, verse 1

When you don't want coffee in the morning I know I'm in a hole It's hard enough to get you sober Got no chance if I'm hungover I ain't even woken up yet Not nearly vertical All I know is I'm in trouble 'Cause the atmosphere's so cold, so

A B C C D E E E

Basically, just A A B B B, with some sentences not rhyming.

I will commend the last syllable of "vertical" rhyming with "cold" and the first sentence of "trouble" as well. But the fact that the only reason he added "vertical" was to make that rhyme, because it adds nothing to the song "I ain't even woken up yet" already conveyed the same thought, kinda ruins it for me. IDK

Album 2, song 3, verse 1

I didn't read the signs Walkin' different lines I know I took a left Tryna make it right

A A B A

I'll give him that "left" could be done for artistic reasons, like, the only sentence that doesn't rhyme and it's him talking about making a mistake. I don't know that he's capable of being this thoughtful, or that he could even come up with it. But let's pretend. This is also poorly executed and I'll expand later.

Album 2, song 4, verse 1

You give and give until it's gone away Just tell yourself you've got another day You've lived that life, you just don't see it yet I see how hard you've worked to be yourself

A A B B

Album 2, song 5, verse 1

Good and bad and right and wrong Are stories made up when we're young to scare us Love and hate are in-between Depends on your reality to see them

A A B B

---

EFFECTIVITY AND COMFORTABILITY OF THE RHYMES + NONSENSICAL AND NARRATIVE ELEMENTS

[I combined all of it together because I started doing just the rhymes and then I just got distracted by his nonsense. So have it all together. Also, I'm doing nearly every song and the ones I skip, I explain why.]

Kill My Mind

You're a nightmare on the dance floor

Cliché

And you hate me, and I want more

'Nother cliché.

You're a total distraction While I'm waiting for your reaction, why?

Distraction from what? Reaction to what? You just wanted to rhyme these words didn't you? Cause they look similar? Cause this makes no sense in context.

The devil in my brain

CLICHEEEEE

Whispering my name

Why is he whispering your name if he's already inside your brain? Wouldn't he be whispering something more interesting? Like, idk "do crime"? Or, given the theme of this song "do drugs"?

I can hear it sayin', "Ah, ah, ah"

The fuck does "Ah, ah, ah" mean? It doesn't make sense in the context of the song either.

Kept me living From the last time From a prison of a past life On a mission just to feel like When you kissed me for the last time, why?

I put the whole verse in just to be 100% fair. The last two sentences make sense by themselves, but the first three are nonsensical. He clearly just wanted to rhyme prison and mission, which don't even form a perfect rhyme (different consonants).

And ya won't let go of your hold on me And I don't know what I'd do without you now

Not criticism, but commentary, and I'm being completely serious. This is quite worrisome to write in a song that's seemingly about substance abuse. Just saying.

[I'm skipping DLIBYH because it's getting special treatment. He didn't write Two Of Us.]

We Made It

'Cause we made it Underestimated And always underrated

Underestimated and underrated mean the same fucking thing. This isn't an essay — you don't need to hit a specific word count. What's the fucking need to just pad these songs?

Now we’re saying goodbye Waving to the hard times Yeah, it's gonna be alright

Just unnecessarily splitting a single thought into two "We're waving the hard times goodbye."

If any of this was actually poetic instead of at the level of eighth grade lit class, when Ms. Smith tries to get her students into poetry and asks them to submit their own attempts, I wouldn't say anything.

It's just bad, juvenile. It's beginner levels. This man has been "writing" songs for over a decade, and he gets paid handsomely to do so.

I measure things by average pop song. He's significantly worse than that.

Like the first time Met you at your doorstep Remember how it tasted Looking into your eyes Baby, you were still high Never coming down with your hand in mine

And how did the doorstep taste, Louis?

Too Young

I've been looking back a lot lately Me and you is all I've ever known It’s hard to think you could ever hate me But everything's feeling different now

Verb tenses are kicking his fucking ass. It WAS hard to believe she'd ever hate you. In the past. It's not hard to believe now. Because she hates you now. And you are writing the song now.

["Me and you is all I've ever known" is a rampant cliché, but I'll overlook it]

Also how awkward is the wording "everything's feeling different now"? Everything feels different now?

Let me give it a whirl...

I've been looking back a lot lately Me and you is all I've ever known Would've never believed you could hate me But all the love you had for me seems to be gone

It's certainly not a masterpiece. I'm working with the constrictions of his metrics, melodies, rhymes, corny ass themes, and... I'm not a professional songwriter. Also, I'm not getting paid to do this. But at least this not only rhymes and fits the metric, but also... MAKES GRAMMATICAL SENSE.

Walls

Nothing wakes you up like wakin' up alone

Nothing makes you hurt like hurtin' who you love

Nothing makes you run, like running out of time

See? I can do it too.

It's giving, I'm 14 and this is deep.

Sorry, I know I'm verging on bitch eating crackers territory, but godddd this is so cornyyy

But these high walls, they came up short Now I stand taller than them all These high walls never broke my soul And I, I watched them all come fallin' down I watched them all come fallin' down for you, for you

The whole song is corny, which, whatever, it's a pop song. Pop songs are often corny. It's fine. Now, can I ask a question?

Why would walls break one's soul?

I would leave it as a funny quip, and be done with it, but I'll explain the problem with his simile/metaphor.

First of all, where did the walls come from? This is the first verse:

Nothing wakes you up like wakin' up alone And all that's left of us is a cupboard full of clothes The day you walked away and took the higher ground Was the day that I became the man that I am now

The chorus about the walls comes right after. Did she erect (hehe) Walls around herself when she left? Cause there's no other explanation as to where the walls came from. If the song was about him overcoming those walls and getting back with her, that'd be something that makes sense. Slightly overdone, but it'd make sense.

Well, it's not. The bridge seals it (we'll get that in a second). He's saying that because he overcame those walls, he became a better person. So did she erect (hehe) walls around... him?

Huh, little bit kidnappy. But let's roll with it. So he's using the metaphor of her, I guess building a wall around him, for some fuckass reason. A physical wall that he physically overpowers because he becomes taller and it's too short for him.

So how can a physical wall break your soul? The metaphor here would be switching from physical to spiritual. A metaphor that already doesn't make a ton of sense, now makes even less so.

The bridge, though....

So this one is a thank you for what you did to me

What did she do to you? You haven't said. All you mention is her leaving after you hurt her. Doesn't seem like she did much of anything TO you. It seems like YOU did this. Or are you actually claiming that she trapped you inside short-ish walls? If this song is attempting to be sincere and not sarcastic (I think it's sincere?) then wouldn't it be better to say "for what you did FOR me"?

Why is it that "thank you"s are so often bittersweet?

Are they? Since when?? Says who??

I just hope I see you one day, and you say to me, "Oh, oh"

You want her to say "oh, oh"? The fuck does that mean? After this comes the chorus, so he's the one talking about overcoming walls again. She doesn't say anything other than "oh, oh". Whatever the fuck that means.

[I just have to laugh because the rhymes, cadence, and rhyming scheme of this are piss poor, the melody is interpolated from three different Oasis songs (Acquiesce, Stop Crying Your Heart Out, and Cast No Shadow,) and the music video is directly lifted from a fourth, different Oasis music video for the song Live Forever. Add to that that the lyrics are completely nonsensical and you have the "Louis is a great songwriter and artist" bingo.

NO HE'S NOT.]

Habit

You're the shiver that I can't shake

You give me the time and the space I was out of control And I'm sorry I let you down I guess that I know what I already knew I was better with you And I miss you now

Not going to criticize this because it's just your run of the mill pop song, but I can't help it, this whole song is giving

Always You

I went to so many places Looking for you in their faces

He's INCAPABLE of show don't tell, isn't he?

By show don't tell I mean:

Woke up the girl who looked just like you I almost said your name

Show me that you see her face in someone else. Don't tell me.

Arctic Monkeys has a whole song about this:

I thought I saw you in the Battleship But it was only a look-a-like She was nothing but a vision trick Under the warning light She was close, close enough to be your ghost But my chances turned to toast When I asked her if I could call her your name

I'm not specifically talking about this lyric in particular when I say "show don't tell", btw. It's just that that's his vibe so much of the time and it irritates me. I'm not saying he never "shows". I'm obviously being hyperbolic, and I'm not saying you ALWAYS have to show instead of tell, either. I just think he misses a ton of opportunities to be a little more poetic that would very much elevate his lyrics.

Seeing your ex's face on someone else is a commonly used trope, which can become corny and cliché or poetic depending on how you communicate it. He chose corny and cliché.

Fearless

This is a lyrically sound song. No notes. I don't necessarily agree with his view of things — I think he has a very narrow view of what succeeding in life can be, but it's a well-written song. Lyrically, sonically it's BORINNNNG.

Perfect Now

If you are a fan of his and you're reading this... first of all, wow, that should count as masochism. Second of all, I hope you remember when I was very nice just now. Because I'm about to be a bitch.

You say to me your jeans don't fit

You don't feel pretty and it's hard to miss

'Cause everybody's lookin' at you now, my, oh my

I guess some queens don't need a crown

Listen, I'm no stranger to men writing weird ass lyrics about women. Harry did write "Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short" after all (at least he tried to redeem himself with "but I think that's what I like about it"). But JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

Not only is the jeans bit a weird ass fucking thing for a man to write that about a woman in the 2020s (to be frank, it was weird when Ed Sheeran wrote it in Little Things in 2012, so imagine now), but also, how cringe was it for him to still be doing that at almost 30?

Don't even get me started with the "Some queens don't need a crown" shit. That would've been corny and overdone if Elvis had sung it in the 50s.

Also

You never stop given half the chance

Cliché

Even when your tears are fallin' down Still, somehow, you're perfect now

Keep your head up, love, keep your head up

Cliché

You make me feel like being someone good to you

....? What? So it's up to her to... make you... feel... like being good to her? Is that not your default setting?

Every insecurity, like a neon sign, as bright as day If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

No, yeah, I'm sure all her deep rooted problems with insecurity, which likely stem from patriarchy and the impossible standard women have to fulfill, would magically be solved if she understood that you like, REALLY fancy her. You're the center of the fucking universe, after all!

Throw this entire song in the trash. Burn it. Then bury the ashes. Jesus fuck, he's such a fucking asshole.

Defenceless

I come runnin' to you like a moth into a flame

This is the first sentence, y'all..

We're sleepin' on our problems like we'll solve them in our dreams We wake up early morning and they're still under the sheets

He probably thought this was so deep. Hell, his fans probably think this is deep too.

Obviously, the point is that you're not going to solve your problems if you sleep on them (double meaning because "sleeping on" something means ignoring it). My point is that it's the type of analogy your Uber driver makes at 3 AM when he picks you up after a night out with friends, and that's the only context in which this analogy sounds thoughtful in any way.

The main problem I have with this brand of lyric of his is that he takes it seriously and so do his fans. Nobody thinks "You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky" is Nietzsche or treats it at such. Perhaps it touches you personally and that's valid, but it's just a cool song, at the end of the day.

Never been so defenceless (Oh) Never been so defenceless (Ooh) You just keep on buildin' up your fences (Oh) But I've never been so defenceless (Ooh)

Tell me he didn't just rhyme "defenceless" with "fences"...

I've been holding my tongue but it's so fucking obvious that his first instinct is to rhyme words that visually look like they might rhyme. That's the level we're working with.

[He didn't write Only The Brave so we're skipping it too.]

The Greatest

Time, it came and changed it all

[Noun] [comma] it [did thing]

Abolish that sentence structure unless you're willing to make it interesting.

Also this is a cliché.

’Cause nothing gets through here Through that circle 'round my heart Where the best of me should start

The fuck does this mean?

It's you and me until the еnd

Cliché

Your face reminded me Of a love you cannot hide

It SHOWED you, not reminded you.

Writing a song "for your fans" is corny as fuck.

[Written All Over Your Face will get special treatment, so we're skipping it.]

Bigger Than Me

When somebody told me I would change

Who told you you would change? People in general? If it's people in general why not just say that? If it was a specific person why are you being vague?

I used to hide behind a smile When somebody told me I would change I was afraid, I don't know why

Something about the "I don't know why" rhyme is so fucking juvenile, but I can't put my finger on why.

'Cause so does the world outside, I've realised

Sorry, not a commentary on how good or bad the lyrics are, but is he saying "I was afraid of changing but I don't know why since the world changes too"?

His emotional intelligence is sub-zero isn't it?

I know I took a left Tryna make it right

Even hen he's trying to do wordplay he just smacks you in the face with it.

I'm not exactly a fan of Taylor Swift's, but Louis' fans often compare him to her, and...

The woman has many, many flaws as an artist (to be fair, all artists do), but when she wants to, she can write a mean lyric, and Louis CANNOT.

Everybody moved on, I stayed there. Dust collected on my pinned-up hair. They expected me to find somewhere, some perspective, but I sat and stared right where you left me. You left me no, oh. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

THAT is wordplay.

Right and left but not meaning right and left in the directional sense

"I'm where you left me" meaning, in the physical place you dropped something

"You left me" meaning, you abandoned something, ended a relationship

"You left me no choice", meaning, I had no other option

Even a poppy Sabrina Carpenter song has more thought put into it:

We were goin' right, then you took a left Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess

She starts it off as lazy as Louis but she actually adds it a little something something.

When I say his music is worse than the average pop song...

I've woken up from my sleep

Cliché

[Blanket statements about me pointing out clichés. They're not necessarily bad. To some degree, they're unavoidable, especially with a large body of work. Unless I really go in on it, I'm just pointing out when he uses them to keep track of it. Like I said, having clichés, commonplaces, common tropes, etc, is normal. What's not normal is how often he does it]

All of these voices, all of these choices I don't hear them anymore

You don't hear the choices?

[Blanket statement about me pointing out small nonsensical elements. Pop songs tend to say some shit here and there. The problem is the frequency of his nonsense, and sometimes the levels of it. The lack of better elements is also a problem.]

'Cause, yeah, I mighta changed But everybody does

Do they? Oh wow.

Now I realise that the world outside Is bigger than me

Is it? Oh wow.

He made an entire song about realizing that the world is bigger than him.

This is what the song is supposed to be about:

As the lead single from Louis Tomlinson’s sophomore studio album, Faith in the Future, “Bigger Than Me” finds itself as an anthemic pop/rock song, on which Tomlinson sings about letting go of self-doubt, personal growth and shutting down the negative voices.

Lucky Again

If you believe that guy is Superman They're selling tickets at the cinema

Is he trying to say, like, "I have a bridge to sell you"? Cause nobody says it this way. I checked.

I'm so confused.

Whatever gets you through the darkest night

Cllché

Just find the light out in the madness, hold tight

Cllché

'Cause I'm a hard man to lose

Does this mean that it's bad to lose him? Or that he's hard to lose as in, he's got an airtag on him? A third thing I can't think of?

The rest of the verse doesn't help with context:

But I figured it out, then made my way back To a life I would choose We werе lucky once, I could be lucky again

Beforе the world, it got so serious

[Noun] [comma] it [did thing]

Before the time, it got away from us

This combination is lethal.

[Noun] [comma] it [did thing] + an incredibly overused idiom

Face The Music

Good and bad and right and wrong Are stories made up when we're young to scare us

No they're not???

Love and hate are in-between Depends on your reality to see them

Is this purposefully idiotic or am I just not getting it? Love and hate are not in-between. He's just saying things atp.

I just wanna stay in the moment the rest of my life

Cliché. A good excuse as any to listen to this awesome song:

I don't wanna face the music, but I still wanna dance with you

This is a cliché ("face the music") but the lyric is cute (and I'm not being facetious).

Close your eyes and count to ten If you're standin' on the edge of fallin' Open up and looking down Everything that matters is forgotten

Huh?

Chicago

They say bitter ends turn sweet in time

Who says that? This is the first time I ever hear these words put together this way.

You always made me feel much bеtter And I'll always be grateful for that

So many of his lyrics sound like he's texting (derogatory)

All This Time

I'm tryna find the words to say for ages

Cliché

It's not how you spend the time, it's if you waste it

Coooooorny ass cliché

And I keep on building mountains hoping that they'll turn to gold

Well that's fucking stupid. Why would mountains turn to gold? Where did you even get that they'd do that?

Also how are you BUILDING mountains? Who the fuck BUILDS mountains? Do you know what mountains are? And what "building" means?

It's the way we see ourselves through walls of trees

You guys, what the hell is he banging on about? What does this MEAN?

I keep looking up the things he writes just to see if I'm missing some context or some popular British saying. I'm not British! British people are weird! But no. It's just that he's writing nonsense.

Writing nonsense is FINE if that's your stylistic choice. I LOOOOVE Oasis and they write some of the most nonsensical garbage you could ever imagine, but

1- The music fucking slaps

2- It's not meant to be read as diaristic or biographical. It's also not meant to be read as a straightforward story or whatever. It's meant to be flowery and a little esoteric.

Louis went on and on about honest lyrics, and how little he liked metaphors, and how he didn't like exactly the type of lyric Oasis tends to write (all while claiming that Oasis wrote the type of lyrics he does like, because he's fucking stupid — I made a whole post about that).

It doesn't even feel like he's trying to be metaphorical and weird or flowery here anyway? It just feels like he's stupid and says stupid shit that doesn't make sense, all the while actively trying to make sense.

Also, Oasis' nonsense is more poetic, but it has it's own worldbuilding and logic. It's not outright dumb like "building mountains," so there's that.

Out Of My System

Take anything you can carry And leave everythin' else behind

Cliché

I am only half of what I think I can be

Are ya? Then why don't you try to better yourself? Cause that's my main issue with your entire existence. I personally think you're way too much for how little talent and hard work you put into things.

Gotta get it off of my chest

Cliché

I've lived a lot of my life already But I gotta get through the rest

Am I being too bitch eating crackers? Yes, Louis, you have to get through the rest. That is how life works.

Demons, I'm takin' all of my demons Putting them where I won't see them 'Cause I just wanna feel alive

This is such a confusing metaphor. What do you mean by taking? Taking them off? Taking them with you? What do you mean "putting them where I won't see them?" Like, what does it mean in the context of this metaphor? What do your demons have to do with feeling alive?

Having demons is a commonplace about struggling with stuff (it can be mental health, family issues, personality issues, a number of different things). It doesn't typically have anything to do with "feeling alive" or not.

I'm not saying these lyrics are necessarily invalid? I just think he could've taken a little longer to develop this metaphor more and make it click better and easier. I'm having trouble interpreting what he's trying to say here, and I don't think it's lack of trying or being pedantic. I think I'm being pretty fair, and in all.

[He didn't write Headline so I'm skipping it.]

Saturdays

I'm not supposed to be Feelin' dirty cheap on Silver Street At quarter to three

Why not? I mean, the feeling dirty cheap I get. Yeah, you're not supposed to feel that way. That's sad. I'm sorry that happened, bro.

But why aren't you supposed to be on Silver Street at a quarter-to-three? For the record, Silver Street is a street in Doncaster that's lined with a bunch of clubs. If you're ver gonna be on Silver Street, it's likely to be at a quarter-to-three. And I see nothing wrong with going clubbing once in a while.

Is he trying to say that he's not supposed to feel dirty cheap on Silver Street because he's out clubbing? But then why add the time? Would it be okay to feel dirty cheap when out clubbing if it was a little earlier?

I am being pedantic now, btw. Why? Because there are ways to write this that make it clear that the problem is with how he feels while being out with friends. Incredible songwriters, such as what Louis and his fans claim he is, would do that. Not just use the first combination of words that rhymes and fits the metric.

Hidden across my face In the crowd, I'm countin' up the days

What's hidden across his face? He never clarifies. Something is hidden. A feeling? A scar? A mole? A crowd can't hide across your face, and these sentences come right after the ones I just quoted, and are followed by:

In a haze I'm gazin' at the floor Somebody's got your trainers on The ones that you wore When you walked out the door

Still on the last two sentences: maybe he's trying to convey that him feeling dirty cheap is hidden across his face? If he's trying to do that, he failed.

The new bits I added now are alright. "In a haze I'm gazing at the floor, somebody's got your trainers on" is pretty good, actually. I personally would've said "the ones you had on when you walked out the door," instead of "the ones that you wore when you walked out the door." It just feels more sentence like. Because of the melody of this song, he tends to pause between sentences, so the way he wrote it feels like he's saying "somebody's got your trainers on, the ones that you wore." Which would be very redundant. What he's saying is that someone's wearing the exact shoes she wore when she left him.

Like I said, he suffers from chronic Not Taking The Time To Edit And Perfect His Lyrics. That's what I'm trying to point out here.

The feeling he's trying to convey is actually interesting and relatable, and the lyrics aren't necessarily BAD. They just aren't that good and can lend to confusion, especially given the cadence of the song. It wouldn't take a lot of work to make these lyrics be excellent and elevate the song, but alas...

Nobody stays the same No matter how much you want it Some things change

Cliché. And annoying at that.

Through my cigarette A shadow of you sticks me to the carpet Try to ignore it

??

Somethin' about the way The light catches the mirror in my brain It gives me shade

What?

Silver Tongues

Gettin' high on the amber wave

This is presumably about beer. You get drunk on beer, not high, Louis. If he's trying to wordplay like he's high (as in, physically) on the "wave" then he needs to find a way to close the metaphor. He could've said "getting under the amber wave." When you're drunk, you're under the influence.

Going deep for the ones who do the same

He could've continued the metaphor with this if he had used "under" instead of "high." You're under, and you get deeper. If you're high, you're not deep, because high means up. Yes, I am being bitchy. Thank you for noticing. I'm fed up.

Not to mention this sentence is confusing. What does "going deep" even mean in this context?

Air Maxes and silver tongues Settle in for another heavy one

Another heavy one what...? It's not clear in context.

You said love was a pretty lie And I choked when your smoke got in my eye Bad logic and empty cans

I can't decide if he's being clever or dumb. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt that he's saying "bad logic" because you can't choke from getting smoke in your eye, but he's said so much dumb nonsensical shit in his lyrics that I don't know.

Let's give him this one. This, that one sentence from Face The Music, and Fearless are the only lyrics of his that I find good so far.

I know nobody understands Me like you do

Cliché (tolerable)

You know, when I'm with you, I'm so much happier

Cliché (also tolerable)

You smile at me and say, "It's time to go" But I don't feel like goin' home

Cliché (tolerable)

You and me until the end

Cliché (alright cut it out)

Wakin' up to start again

Cliché (....)

There's nowhere else that I would rather be

Cliché, verging on intolerable with how many there are in a row.

Also excuse to put another huge and much better song

She Is Beauty We Are Word Class

Conversation is currency

Okay, interesting! Where is this going?

Shapes become a language

Uh... letters are technically shapes, and letters form words in multiple languages?

Square eyes and sunglasses

Is this a Keep Driving type of song? I can get behind those, but I'm not following right now.

Finding faces in the trees Fabricated fairytales Bring a new world to life Sit down, sit down in the space and time

I'm so confused.

She is beauty And we are world-class (Oh) Forever We let the feeling last

That's the chorus. Small tangent.

In Keep Driving, the first verse lists things that seem random until you hit the chorus.

A small concern with how the engine sounds. We held darkness in withheld clouds. I would ask "Should we just keep driving?"

Essentially, the engine sounds like it's about to break, and the darkness in the clouds show that there's a storm coming, but he stubbornly asks if they should keep going regardless. The part about darkness and clouds seems to indicate "a storm coming" isn't just literally coming in the real world, but also in the relationship.

The analogy is, driving in a car that's about to break, but not doing anything about it, and finding yourself stuck in the middle of a storm because you didn't act when you should've, and comparing that to a relationship.

Anyway, it seems that whoever he's talking to is as stubborn as he is, because he continues to list things in the second verse, particularly "pancakes for two" and "I will always love you."

The singing (the way he sings) gets a little more intense in the bridge. And the things he lists get more unhinged. It starts off listing things that makes it sound like a road trip ("passports in footwells"), which makes the parallel meaning of the song take even more form and makes the other things he listed in the verses make more sense (sunglasses, cameras, breakfast items, etc).

Continuing with the bridge, there are little things that allude to the summer of 2020, "tea with cyborgs" is most likely a reference to doing zoom calls with your loved ones during quarantine, and "Riot America" to the Black Lives Matter movement, which hit its peak in May-June 2020. "Life hacks going viral in the bathroom" is a literal thing that happened during quarantine, particularly on TikTok.

There's allusions to sex ("choke her with a sea view" and "side boob") and to substances ("puff pass" "edibles" "cocaine" "wine glass").

Then "tootache", "bad move", "just act normal" show us that something is going wrong. Following the theme of the song, he ends the bridge with "it's all good, hey you" and then the outro just says "should we just keep driving", signaling that, despite the fact that there's clearly issues, they'll continue to ignore them, and closing the metaphor fully.

I think Keep Driving is a brilliant song, perfectly executed. And if Louis were writing something like that, I'd commend him. Music and poetry within it gives you so many possibilities. Not everything has to be narrative-driven.

The problem that I have is that I just cannot make sense of this song at all.

This is the second verse:

Escape the inevitable Fade into light Soak up the empathy 'Cause I’m with you tonight

I'm sorry, but what is he talking about? There doesn't seem to be a thread that connects any of this.

Are we one or are we two? Are we me or are we you? Have we been all this before? Do you see what I see?

Is it a stream of consciousness type of thing? Cause I can get behind those too, but typically, the songs are, you know, better.

Like, I'm not gonna analyze this song super closely if that's what it's meant to be doing because I respect a stream of consciousness 100%, but I will judge the fact that the song is ass. If you're gonna do stream of consciousness you have to write a banger song.

This is one of my favorite songs by Oasis:

For those who might be reading this long ass essay out of curiosity and aren't familiar with Louis' song, well, I don't recommend it, but you can find it here.

Common People

I came from a good home A house full of terrace dreams That was enough for me You know, you had to see it to believe

"Gotta see it to believe" implies something unbelievable, weird. What is so unbelievable about a good home?

All the late nights, good times

Cliché

No deep pockets, but big hearts

Cliché

This song is pointless and boring.

Angels Fly

Nothin' really matters Nothin' really hurts We can talk about it It'll only make it worse

Jesus Christ, who pissed in your cereal? Not commentary on the quality of the lyrics, but my god.

If every star is an eye in the sky You'll see angels fy

Put the pain behind you now You don't need it anymore

BOOOOOO. Cliché

Holding On To Heartache

You said I wear it like a crown

Cliché

You should be starin' at the sky The birds just passin' by, love

This song is apparently about how much he misses being in 1D, which...

These two sentences I'm quoting do absolutely nothing to further the narrative and I'm not sure what the point of including them was other than not actually having to think and make an effor to come up with something relevant.

I can still hear a clock that's tickin'

Cliché

You know the party's over When you're standin' in an empty space alone

Not commentary on the quality of the lyrics, but yes, he's literally this meme (derogatory):

And time can always heal you If you let it make its way into your bones

Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated? Time can always heal you if you let it. End of. Why does time have to get into your bones? What kind of weird ass, unnecessary metaphor even is this? Just not wanting to think of a better, more compelling way to word things and sticking with the first sentence that fits the metric.

Nothing's ever easy

Plenty of things are easy. This adds nothing to the song or its meaning. You're just saying things.

[Writing this song three years after his admitted BFF said that he would've died if he had stayed in the band feels pretty fucking selfish. He's allowed to feel however he feels, but there was no need to externalize it constantly, especially knowing how much Liam was struggling...]

That's The Way Love Goes

Cool, simple song lyrically speaking. Nothing amazing and there are a couple of clichéd sayings, but it's fine! Lyrically one of his best alongside Fearless. It's a little boring musically speaking (better than Fearless, though), nothing to write home about, it could be better if he wasn't the one singing it. His voice really does ruin everything.

Change

This song is cliché o'clock:

Time of our lives

it's easy to see

We were just gettin' by

If you need, you can call on me

I'll be the friend you need

'Cause everything's changed outside, but I feel the same inside

The kids are alright

When we gonna realise we don't get another life?

I know it'll be alright

We've still got the rest of our lives

'Cause we're all the same inside

If he was trying to do a song full of idioms that'd be so cool. Like Better Than Words in 1D. But he's not trying to do that. There are a bunch of sentences here that aren't idioms. He's just fucking lazy.

The theme of the song is so boring too. Nothing's changed, I mean, some things changed, which I hate, but also I miss it, and I'm from Doncaster did you know?

----

Okay, I was gonna do High In California, but it's just a song about smoking weed, and I refuse to analyze that lyrically. I was also gonna do Miss You, Back To You, Just Like You, and Copy of a Copy of a Copy... I'm not going to. I'm bored and annoyed and I wanna be done with this.

You can find the analysis I mentioned of Written All Over Your Face and Don't Let It Break Your Heart IN THIS LINK.

---

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I think I have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Louis is a lazy songwriter who doesn't put too much thought into his lyrics, which are the only part where he has any actual participation (going from what he and his collaborators have said about the process so far and the liner notes in his albums).

You can feel like the lyrics touch you or you feel represented by them or whatever, that's absolutely fine. I'm not judging that. What I'm judging is how apt of a songwriter he is technically speaking. I can't judge vibes. Vibes are personal.

Technically speaking, he's terrible. Like, downright one of the worst I've ever had the displeasure of listening to.

With that, I bid you goodbye.

PS I have not proofread this monster of a post. I might do it in the future. I've had this written for a few days, and decided to post it on New Year's as a gift for those of you (all five of you! haha) who enjoy my content. Thank you

[postsofbabel]

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[armatofu]

"TIRAR LA TOALLA"

Casi todo el mundo conoce esta expresión, que significa rendirse, o abandonar una lucha o un propósito. Normalmente se asocia la expresión al mundo del boxeo, a un gesto con el que el entrenador de uno de los púgiles puede forzar el abandono de su pupilo. Pocos saben en cambio que la frase tiene un origen más antiguo y menos agresivo, relacionado curiosamente con el mundo de las termas romanas.

En la antigua Roma las termas no eran sólo un sitio donde poder bañarse, sino también un lugar de encuentro y de reunión, donde poder urdir las conjuras políticas más oscuras o encontrar el amor de los efebos más bellos de la ciudad. Parece ser que ya en el siglo I d.C. se instauró una especie de ritual precisamente entre los jóvenes que acudían asiduamene a las termas en busca de fama y riquezas y los hombres de media edad que buscaban sus favores.

Después de que uno de estos jóvenes había recibido una propuesta concreta, directamente o a través de amigos, se situaba frente a su pretendiente y realizaba una de estas dos acciones: o se hacía un segundo nudo en la toalla en la que iba envuelto haciendo entender que no la aceptaba o la dejaba caer ante el aplauso general de los presentes, que festejaban el nacimiento de una relación.

Ya en una fecha temprana como el siglo II d.C. tenemos las primeras pruebas escritas de la expresión “linteum iactare“, “tirar la toalla”.

En unas termas en la actual Turquía se ha descubierto recientemente una placa donde se lee: “Hic Antinous Hadriano linteum suum iactavit“, es decir, “Aquí fue donde Antinoo tiró su toalla a Adriano“, una placa que probablemente señala el inicio de la famosa relación entre el emperador Adriano y el joven Antínoo.

De esta forma, este dejar caer o tirar la toalla comenzó a verse poco a poco como un gesto de sumisión, de rendición al conquistador, por lo que terminó adaptándose también al mundo del boxeo, a través del cual ha llegado hasta nuestro día

[stampy-offical]

More of hells little darling!

Alyx is of course the one who first comes to come to grips with their feelings.

She finds this out through a talk with rosie.

It went like 'hey..Rosie?' "Yes sugar?" 'I was talking to friends about what kind of men or women we like...' "yes?" 'Well I was thinking a tall string caraing man..maybe even one who's good with kids and is a big softie..like he's a large teddy bear." 'Stampy.' "W-what?" 'You just told me you fell in love with stampy.' "...oh my lucifer." 'Don't worry honey. Girls get time to understand who they like before they become women. I wish you the best of luck!'

Stampy meanwhile Was oblivious and both him and husk were just laughing.

Husk:so...Alyx?

Stampy:huh?

Husk:come on you get a doopy smile chuckle a lot and you even get all stary eyed watching her fight.

Stampy:aye! She's just a very good and elegant dame. I like her cause she's smart hard working and a gentler soul. Simple. You however like angel.

Husk:huh? No I don't. I pity him.

Stampy:you make him special drinks save him from loan sharks shoot at any Vee employee who looks at him funny and baby his pet pig.

Husk:...he's good company and I like Nuggets..

Stampy:sure....

*five hours of drinks later.*

Stampy:*drubk as shit*..she doseny like me like that....I'm an old sun of a bitch...I'm a geezerr...she's a young strong lady...

Husk:*also drubk* im just...*hic* just sayikg..vall..Val dosent deserve angel I..I do I treat him roght.. I make him happy and all kinds of glad...I make him feel lovesd...

*both then pass out after another hour of drinks and pretentious finds them and while talking to them.*

Pretentious:I felt that way with Cherry bomb. Just be honest and hope for the best..

Husk:*Strugling to stand* i-ii I can do that..

Stampy:*grumbling about Later with his face on the counter.*

It took MONTHS of alastor and Dawn trying to get them together before they asked Nifty for help.

Nifty cracked her neck and grabbed Al's mic and yelled into it. "JUST KISS" "AND YOU GAYS NEED TO CONFESS! GET GOING!"

Charile then found out and started doing everything in her power to help while Vaggie and Rosie set up date ideas.

Rosie got stampy and alyx on a romantic walk in the most flowery part of cannibal town.

Vaggie meanwhile shoved Husk and angel into a restaurant the hotel denizens frequent.

After the dates they got congratulations and gifts from friends.

Lucifer of course got them ducks.

Alastor gave Stampy the talk. Alo stampy did was laugh and say if anyone's killing him it'd be Alyx or Dove. Not Him.

Husk meanwhile sent a pic of a sleeping angel dust with a note 'He's mine forever. FUCK YOU! The casino master PS your staff are banned from my business'

The Vees still keep hearing the bitch fests Valentino has about it.

Vellette tried to harass Stampy about his engagement in a overlord meeting only for stampy to snap back.

Vel:come on you geezer isn't she a little young for you?

Stampy:isn't this position of power too much responsibility for you?

Vel:listen here you old fossil!

Stampy:and last I checked your love life wasn't better. Why are you here again? Oh right! Murdering your Ex! Which one was he? 1st? 2nd?

Vel:*ashamed* 4th...

Stampy:1st ex left her for her mother. 2nd left you for the neighbor. 3rd ran away with your dad. And then there's the men who used you to get to your cousins. Or your friends.

Vel:*turning red* SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Stampy:what was that old phrase? Always a bridesmaid never a bride? Well yours is worse. Always the matchmaker never the partner. I might have never dated in my living life. But at least I'm doing better then you.

Alastor:*who saw everything with the other overlords* This is a productive meeting!

Zesteail:*Laughing at Vellette*

That little dig resulted in 5 non stop weeks of vee attacks. All the while husk and stampy have the time of their lives mocking them.

Alastor meanwhile is with dove just enjoying the good married life and spending time watching their daughter enjoy her afterlife.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

416, UMP46, M16 and Sopmod reacting to other dolls flirting with their S/O

(GFL) HK416, UMP45, M16A1, and M4 SOPMOD II reacting to their S/O being flirted with

DEATH

416 promptly stomps towards S/O, crossing her arms.

(HK416) "Enjoying yourself? Well, too bad. S/O is mine."

Her voice grows deeper as the venom is practically dripping from the words. It looked like she was about to start a fight in seconds.

S/O deserved nothing less than the perfect T-Doll, and she was going to be damn sure it stayed that way.

She drags them away, not even that concerned about the other T-Dolls who were staring.

(HK416) "I don't mind people speaking to you, but you better not even THINK of trading me for an inferior Doll. I'm all you'll ever need from now on, anyway."

HK SUPERIOR, GRIFFIN, INFERIOR.

45's smile is still on her face as she wraps an arm around S/O's waist, saying hello to the T-Doll speaking to S/O.

(UMP45) "Enjoying yourselves?"

S/O knows that the smile on her right now is fake. Not only that, her eyes look like she was attempting to kill them with just her glare.

(UMP45) "Being friendly with S/O is one thing, but I'd ask you not to flirt with them. For both our sakes.~"

Once the T-Doll gets the message, she just shrugs and goes back to relaxing.

(UMP45) "Good good, no need for things to get violent today. Not worth the reduction in pay anyway."

With one giant gulp of her drink, M16 rushes over to S/O, her arm almost strangling S/O as she lifts them off the chair, though that part wasn't intentional, or noticed by her.

(M16A1) "HEY! WHAT'RE YOU DOING WITH MY- HIC!- BABE, YOU...YOU...GIRL!"

M16 causes a very obnoxious scene, but it gets the other T-Doll to take the hint, which she shakes her fist and mumbles something about "decency" or their mother.

S/O honestly couldn't tell with her slurred speech.

(M16A1) "Aaaall right! No one's gonna...gonna take me from you...!"

She collapses her head onto their lap and begins snoring away, having an iron grip on their waist, with a satisfied smile.

SOPMOD practically leaps onto S/O, yelling at the other T-Doll as she picks them up and faces S/O away.

(SOPMOD) "HEY! Hands off my boy/girl-friend! MINE!"

SOPMOD normally doesn't have a problem with other T-Dolls, but she sure as hell has one if anyone thinks they can take her away from them.

Especially when these types of relationships are very well known throughout the base, given the rarity of the situations.

With a tongue sticking out at the T-Doll in anger, she leaves the area with S/O still in tow.

(SOPMOD) "Hmph, the nerve of these people! We belong to each other, everyone needs to know that!...Put you down?...Hm, okay, but after one more hug!"